Read Online Dreams of Shreds and Tatters by Amanda Downum - Free Book Online Page B

peaks and valleys, but the hum and whine of machinery set her teeth on edge. His skin was grey as paste, crawling with bluegreen veins.
    There had to be something she could do, no matter what Alex said. Anything. Why the dreams, if she couldn’t use them?
    “I won’t sit here and watch you waste away.” A childish promise— what choice did she have? If she’d come sooner, would it have made a difference? She forced her thoughts away from that thorny path.
    Liz scrubbed her clammy palms on her jeans; the ring slid loose on her right thumb. She brushed a strand of oily hair out of Blake’s face. His earrings were gone, a row of empty indentations along the curve of his ear. It made her think of all the strangers who must touch him here, how much he’d hate it if he knew.
    Where was the spirit while the flesh lay still? His eyes twitched softly beneath closed lids—did he dream? The thought didn’t comfort her much.
    “I’d kiss you awake, but I’m not qualified. Where’s a handsome prince when we need one? Or a strapping highlander.”
    Drowned.
    She closed her eyes against the heat of tears, lowering her head to edge of his pillow. Beneath starchy soap and unwashed hair and the sour tang of poor health she smelled his familiar autumn-leaf musk.
    Where are you? The ring pinched her finger as she squeezed his hand. If he was dreaming, she could find him. She just had to dream the same dream.
    The light dimmed through her closed eyes, like a cloud passing over the sun. The room tilted, vanished, and she was falling—
    Into black and icy water. Blake’s hand slipped from hers as liquid flooded her mouth and nose, bitter and rank. Salt burned her eyes. Darkness above and darkness below, with no hope of light or air.
    For a moment they floated side by side. Then Blake began to sink. Beneath him, at the heart of the abyss, something waited. Something vast and dark and hungry.
    Liz stretched and kicked. The ring glowed incandescent through the murk as she reached for him. Her lungs burned and pressure closed around her, pushing at her eyes, constricting her ribs. No matter how she fought, she couldn’t close the distance, and the black thing in the depths grew closer and closer.
    This is no place for you, dreamer , a familiar voice whispered inside her head. Go.
    She ignored it, kicking harder. For an instant she touched Blake’s outstretched fingers. His eyes were open, staring sightlessly.
    He is beyond your grasp. Go now!
    With an awful wrench she was back in the hospital room, clutching Blake’s hand hard enough to bruise. The book slid off her lap and thumped to the floor as she recoiled. Her head throbbed; her lungs ached; the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.
    Her hand burned—she slipped the ring off her thumb and stared at the red mark it left on her skin. Liquid rolled down her lip, splattered thick and crimson against her sweater. She leaned back with a shudder, pinching her nose shut.
    Bile seared the back of her throat and she choked, swallowing sour spit. The ceiling swam in and out of focus and her heart pounded against her ribs. It was going to eat him. Whatever it was.
    The doorknob turned and Liz startled again, scraping the chair back as she turned.
    “Oh.” Antja froze in the doorway and Liz thought she might bolt. “I didn’t think anyone was here. I just wanted to see—”
    “There—” Liz swallowed the taste of salt and metal, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “There’s no change.”
    “Oh.” Antja lingered on the threshold, hands shoved in the pockets of her black leather coat.
    “Come in,” Liz said, stepping back from the bed. She slipped the ring—cool again now—into her pocket.
    Antja eased the door shut behind her, mauve lips pursing. “Your nose...” She pulled a tissue out of her purse and handed it to Liz. Her accent was thicker than Rainer’s.
    They both looked down at Blake; Antja broke first. “It’s terrible, seeing him like that. Almost worse