Tamera Alexander - [Timber Ridge Reflections 01] by From a Distance

Author:From a Distance
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Elizabeth floated on a wave, away from the shrill hum that had all but quieted inside her now. She gave herself over to the tranquil dream, floating there—cocooned in darkness—not wishing to awaken. Because if she did, the pain would return.

Never had air felt so intense against her skin. Never so smooth and slick, so warm . . . liquid. It washed over her in waves.

Was this what it felt like to be dead? Like her mother . . .

Distant voices, indistinguishable, hovered closer. The high-pitched humming began again inside her—a slow, steady thrum.

She shook her head, not wanting to leave this place, wherever this was.

A sharp prick, like the tip of a saber, sent a tingling sensation shooting up her left arm. It sped through her torso to her other limbs and returned to explode in her chest.

Her lungs screamed. Frantic, she fought for air.

She arched her back until she was certain her spine would snap, and blinked to clear the fog before her eyes, but to no avail. Every sound echoed back tenfold. She had to get out of here. But where was here? And was it real, or her imagination?

Hands were on her body. Touching, restraining. Those were real.

She struggled to break free in the chest-deep water, and the stench of sulfur lay thick in the close space. It tasted bitter on her tongue. Through a heavy mist, she made out the blurred outline of a man moving toward her.

Pale light atop the warm water shone a path to the outside world and she lunged for it, nearly going under. She brushed the slick bottom of the cavern with her foot before strong arms penned her back from behind.

The outline of the man to her left loomed close. He took hold of her chin. She tried to scream but lacked the breath.

“I need to get her mouth open!” The unfamiliar voice ricocheted off the walls of the cave.

Elizabeth firmed her lips and turned away. But the arms encircling her from behind forbade her efforts and forced her head back. She clawed at the restraint, digging her nails deep into skin. Her jaw was forced open and in poured liquid fire.

Gagging, coughing, she choked on the liquid now scorching a path through her chest. She spit out the remains and, for a second time, went for the arms restraining her—

“Elizabeth!”

At hearing her name, she stilled—winded, wheezing, heart pounding in her ears.

“The doctor’s trying to help you, and so am I.” Arms held her immovable. “If you still have it in that stubborn mind of yours to go hunting, you’d better hold still and do what he says. You hear me?”

More obedient to the drawl in his voice than the gruffness of his command, she nodded—gasping, coughing—and pushed a mass of sopping curls from her face. Daniel Ranslett’s grip loosened a fraction, and she felt the sharp rise and fall of his chest against her back, matching her own. It gave comfort.

The man in front of her, the doctor as Ranslett had referred to him, stepped closer again.

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