Read Online Corinne (Book One of The Red Diamond Saga) by Jennifer Janne - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Janne
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arms were bound behind her back. She tried to stand, but found that her feet were also bound. It was in that moment that she realized that it was not the women from his past he was laughing at; it was the woman right in front of him. He was laughing with joyful anticipation of how he intended to harm Corinne. As her eyes widened in horror, the scene before her become fuzzy and distorted. She found it difficult to understand where she was, or how she had gotten there.
As Sam drew closer to her, his wicked eyes glimmering with desire, Corinne closed her eyes. The instant that she did, she felt a surge of power flood through her, from the tips of her toes to her scalp. She felt as if she could change the world with a thought or a gesture.
The intensity of the power she felt made her strain against the ropes that bound her. They snapped with ease, and as she was set free, Sam's expression shifted from one of dominance to one of desperation.
Corinne stood quickly and lunged toward Sam. The closer she came to him, the further he seemed to drift away, as if the space between them were stretching somehow of its own volition.
As Sam cried out in fear, his voice mingling with the screams of his past victims, Corinne opened her eyes.
The ceiling above her was coated with moonlight that drifted through the gauzy curtains of the bedroom window. For the first time in a few nights she was at home in her apartment. As her gaze wandered across the ceiling in search of Sam's horrified face, she came to the slow realization that it had all been a dream.
Rather than interpreting she decided to let her mind drift as far as it could from it. She started to sit up thinking that perhaps a glass of water or wine would assist in her avoidance of the dream. The moment her head lifted from the pillow, the room spun in swift wobbly circles. Her stomach lurched, and she was certain that she would not make it to the bathroom in time. She stumbled through the bathroom door and collapsed beside the toilet, just before her stomach erupted.
Her mind was still spinning when she fell against the bathroom floor, her body too weak to sit up or even dream of standing up. The cool tile floor beneath the nightgown she wore was the only respite she received as her entire body burned with heat. It was an odd heat, not like any fever she had ever experienced. It came from deep within her, and it created a sheen of sweat on her skin. Her wrists ached, as did her ankles, as if her body could not contain the heat, which seemed to throb out to the tips of her fingers and toes.
As her stomach twisted again with the anticipation of another eruption, a groan welled within her. When it poured forth from between her lips its sound was so morose and hopeless that it brought tears to her eyes. As her eyes fell shut against the rise of moisture, she whimpered.
Logically she tried to tell herself she had a stomach virus, but the emotions that were overwhelming her, the heat that felt as if it was boiling her from the inside out, convinced her otherwise. It felt to her, as if her body had decided to torture her, as if it had rebelled and separated from the rest of her, and declared war.
For the rest of the night she lay on the bathroom floor, only sitting up every hour or so to vomit again. By the time the morning came, she had little recollection of what life had been like before the onset of this illness.
She did not hear her phone ringing, or have any sense of the time that was passing. She only knew the pain that emanated through her. When someone began pounding on the door, she mistook it for the pounding of her head. She was dehydrated from vomiting, and her breathing was shallow, though she was not aware enough to even realize it.
Whoever was pounding on the door was shouting her name as well, but this did not sink into her mind which was glazed over with the edge of unconsciousness. She was slipping away into a dark and quiet place where the pain could not find
As Sam drew closer to her, his wicked eyes glimmering with desire, Corinne closed her eyes. The instant that she did, she felt a surge of power flood through her, from the tips of her toes to her scalp. She felt as if she could change the world with a thought or a gesture.
The intensity of the power she felt made her strain against the ropes that bound her. They snapped with ease, and as she was set free, Sam's expression shifted from one of dominance to one of desperation.
Corinne stood quickly and lunged toward Sam. The closer she came to him, the further he seemed to drift away, as if the space between them were stretching somehow of its own volition.
As Sam cried out in fear, his voice mingling with the screams of his past victims, Corinne opened her eyes.
The ceiling above her was coated with moonlight that drifted through the gauzy curtains of the bedroom window. For the first time in a few nights she was at home in her apartment. As her gaze wandered across the ceiling in search of Sam's horrified face, she came to the slow realization that it had all been a dream.
Rather than interpreting she decided to let her mind drift as far as it could from it. She started to sit up thinking that perhaps a glass of water or wine would assist in her avoidance of the dream. The moment her head lifted from the pillow, the room spun in swift wobbly circles. Her stomach lurched, and she was certain that she would not make it to the bathroom in time. She stumbled through the bathroom door and collapsed beside the toilet, just before her stomach erupted.
Her mind was still spinning when she fell against the bathroom floor, her body too weak to sit up or even dream of standing up. The cool tile floor beneath the nightgown she wore was the only respite she received as her entire body burned with heat. It was an odd heat, not like any fever she had ever experienced. It came from deep within her, and it created a sheen of sweat on her skin. Her wrists ached, as did her ankles, as if her body could not contain the heat, which seemed to throb out to the tips of her fingers and toes.
As her stomach twisted again with the anticipation of another eruption, a groan welled within her. When it poured forth from between her lips its sound was so morose and hopeless that it brought tears to her eyes. As her eyes fell shut against the rise of moisture, she whimpered.
Logically she tried to tell herself she had a stomach virus, but the emotions that were overwhelming her, the heat that felt as if it was boiling her from the inside out, convinced her otherwise. It felt to her, as if her body had decided to torture her, as if it had rebelled and separated from the rest of her, and declared war.
For the rest of the night she lay on the bathroom floor, only sitting up every hour or so to vomit again. By the time the morning came, she had little recollection of what life had been like before the onset of this illness.
She did not hear her phone ringing, or have any sense of the time that was passing. She only knew the pain that emanated through her. When someone began pounding on the door, she mistook it for the pounding of her head. She was dehydrated from vomiting, and her breathing was shallow, though she was not aware enough to even realize it.
Whoever was pounding on the door was shouting her name as well, but this did not sink into her mind which was glazed over with the edge of unconsciousness. She was slipping away into a dark and quiet place where the pain could not find
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