A Night Without Stars by Jillian Eaton

Author:Jillian Eaton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: vampires
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Decision Time

Dying really pissed me off.

It wasn’t the whole being dead thing that annoyed me – even I knew you couldn’t get thrown through a windshield and survive – but I had really expected a little bit more than this. A bright twinkling light would have been nice. Maybe some angels with harps or at the very least fluffy white kittens. Was that too much to ask after everything I’d been through? It must have been, because all I got was darkness.

It was impenetrable, as though I’d fallen into a deep, dark void of nothingness. I could feel I was lying down, but when I tried to sit up my body wouldn’t cooperate. My limbs felt heavy. My head weighed a thousand pounds. The only body part I could move were my lips and when I smacked them together I tasted metal.

The voices came then, so indistinct and fuzzy I thought I was imagining them at first. But like a bad radio slowly being tuned in they became sharper and clearer until I was able to make out every third or fourth word.

“…out of nowhere. Couldn’t…time.”

“Is…dead? Oh God, all…blood.”

“…move her? Is it okay if we move her?”

“I…know. I DON’T KNOW!”

“Stop yelling.” The words came out sluggishly, like I was trying to speak around a mouthful of cotton balls. I heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by a muffled sob. “Travis?” My eyebrows pulled together.

Another sob, this one louder than the last.

Definitely Travis.

“Lola, you’re a-alive!” he blubbered.

I was? That couldn’t be right. For the second time I tried to sit up, but nothing was working like it should have been. There was a prickling at the base of my skull and under my hands, like someone was poking me with tiny needles. “No, I’m pretty sure I’m dead. You probably are too,” I said kindly, wanting to break the news as gently as possible. “You just don’t realize it yet.”

“No one is dead, honey.”

“Dad?” I tried to turn my head in the direction of his voice, and this time my muscles cooperated. Someone squeezed my hand and excitement shot through me when I was able to move my fingers, followed closely by fear. I had to be dead. If I wasn’t… If I wasn’t, then why couldn’t I see? Why couldn’t I move more than a few inches? Was I paralyzed? Oh, God. I was. I was paralyzed.

“I’m right here,” Dad said. “I’m right next to you.”

“I can’t… I can’t see you.” Panic pitched my voice up an octave. “Am I blind?”

Travis snorted. I jerked my head to the side. The movement was a little easier this time, but it still didn’t feel right. It was jerky instead of smooth. Hard instead of effortless.

If you want to know what it felt like to lay on the ground not knowing if I was irreparably damaged or not, move your left pinky finger. It’s easy, right? You barely have to think and it twitches. But what if you’re giving the command

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