Waking Darkness: A Supernatural Academy Paranormal Romance (Academy of the Underworld Book 1) by Laney Powell

Author:Laney Powell [Powell, Laney]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-06T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Mikhail’s kiss did not last more than one night. I tossed and turned, hearing the angry voice, at times taunting, and other times, roaring in anger. I remembered what Mikhail said—that it was a demon. What did a demon want with me? Since I had no idea about my siren side, and Sagara hadn’t been able to find anything out about my mother, nor had I heard from Margiana, I didn’t have the first clue as to why a demon would be angry with me, or wanting to make me crazy. Which was what was going to happen if I didn’t figure out how to get rid of the nightmares.

The morning after my big romantic confession to my friends, I got up, feeling the makings of a migraine the size of a pickup truck. I made it to the bathroom, and then barely managed to make it back to bed before my head exploded. I closed my eyes and held a wet washcloth over my face. Migraines were different for everyone, and this was one of the little things that would sometimes help me.

A little later, I heard something, but I couldn’t move. Whatever it was would have to eat me, or kill me, or whatever. At least the migraine would end.

“You’re not going to die,” a cool voice said softly.

I felt like I should recognize it, but to move, to even speak, was too much.

“Madame Perpetua sent you something,” the cool voice continued. “Can you open your mouth?”

If I wasn’t ready to just let the demon in my nightmares take me to stop the migraines, I would have said something smart-assed, but I couldn’t muster the energy to even move.

“I’ll help you,” the cool—male—voice said. A pause, and then a hand slid under my head, lifting it slightly. My headache screamed at the motion, but since I was moving now, I opened my mouth, and a trickle of mint-tasting water was poured into my mouth. I swallowed, trying not to move too much, and then once the person giving me whatever it was—hopefully a fast-acting poison—eased my head back onto the pillow.

“Hang on,” he said. “It will help quickly.”

“Please,” my mouth formed the words, even as no sound came out.

“You’re not going to die on me,” he said in a whisper.

I didn’t know if I was supposed to hear him. Just as I felt myself falling into a sleep, or dying, I could hear the door to the room open.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” another male voice, one I should recognize, ground out angrily.

That much noise should have made my head burst into flames, but I was sliding into a peaceful darkness, and I let myself go. They could fight it out over the corpse.

When I opened my eyes again, there was still a damp cloth over my eyes and forehead, which I appreciated. It gave me time to assess the noise I was hearing in my room. I must have made it through the

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