When Lightning Strikes

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She breathed deeply, trying to keep calm. She could handle pain. Hell, she'd been through childbirth. She could handle anything.

Time sort of slipped away from her for a second. She looked up suddenly, blinking hard. It felt as if she'd fallen asleep, but she didn't think she had. She stared out at the desert's blurry wash of sand and stone. Overhead the sky was so blue, it hurt her eyes. She shielded her gaze with a shaking hand an

d glanced back at the cabin.

How long had he been gone? Five minutes, ten? An hour? Suddenly she had no idea. She swallowed hard, fighting to keep her fear at bay.

The pain in her ankle had dwindled. She tried to draw her leg out of the water to examine the sting mark, but she couldn't move. Her leg felt numb, as heavy as stone.

Paralyzed. The word smashed through her, set off a terror so deep and dark and primal, she couldn't breathe. Her heart seemed to explode within her chest, setting off a pounding rush of blood through her veins.

"C-Calm down," she told herself firmly. "It's just the c-cold water."

She grabbed her ankle and dragged it onto the dirt. Two angry red marks spotted the tender skin in the hollow beneath her anklebone, but there was almost no inflammation or swelling.

That was probably a good sign, she thought. Probably a really good sign.

Paralyzed.

She shoved the horrifying thought aside with a shudder. But it wouldn't stay gone, it kept coming back, seeping through her thoughts and filling her with a formless terror. Suddenly she couldn't stay here any-

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more, couldn't sit here like a lump of clay; she had to move, had to force herself to walk.

She scooted back from the shore and staggered to her feet. Her leg was numb, but not paralyzed. If she really concentrated, she could make herself walk. The realization calmed her somewhat. Thank God.

Clutching the blanket around her throat, she limped back toward the cabin, dragging her hurt foot like some Victorian Quasimodo. "Killian!" She tried to scream his name, but couldn't manage it. Her tongue felt heavy now, as useless and numb as her leg.

God, what's happening to me?

Shivering violently, she limped forward. Just as she reached the cabin, the door banged open again and two men appeared in the doorway.

She frowned, wondering who the second man was.

"Layyynee?" The word?was it her name??seemed to come at her from an endless darkness, drawn out and lingering like the last echoing strains of music. The voice was familiar.

The two watery men merged back into one, a tall, silver-haired man wearing jeans and nothing else. It took her a second to recognize him. Her mind felt strangely disconnected. Killian.

She tried to smile, but didn't know if her face had moved or not. "Help me" slipped from her mouth, though it hadn't been what she'd intended to say. She didn't know what she'd meant to say.

He spoke. She heard the rich, gravelly rumble of his voice, but the words were meaningless. She blinked, tried to make sense of what was happening, what she was feeling. Her heart was racing so hard, she couldn't hear anything else. She had a sudden, ridiculous image of it exploding out of her chest like the thing in Alien.

She couldn't breathe. It felt as if invisible hands were

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coiling viciously around her throat. She gasped and tried to gulp air, but all she could draw were shallow, panicked breaths.

He moved toward her; the movement seemed lightning fast. She wanted to meet him, find comfort in his arms, but she was rooted to the spot, helpless and paralyzed.

He touched her arm, and the pain was so intense, so unexpected, that she screamed. He drew back immediately. "Follow me," he said in a long, drawn-out voice that seemed to take forever.

He led her to the bed, where two bedrolls lay side by side. She dragged herself to the bed and collapsed on top of it, letting her legs dangle over the side.

Very gently he lifted her legs onto the bed, but even that simple touch was excruciating. Her skin felt as if it were on fire, burning slowly, inch by inch, up her legs. Every whisper of his breath on her flesh hurt, every movement of the air was agony.