Thirteen (Otherworld 13)

"I don't recognize--" he began.

She spoke again, the words coming out so fast they could have been English for all I knew, until--

"Latin!" I said. "And . . . Greek, I think. I don't know them, really, just in spells, but there were a couple of words . . . Damn it, we should--" I stopped and tugged my new cell phone from my pocket. "I can record it."

Hope started again, her voice rising, the words coming ever faster, nearly shouted, like a revival speaker on speed. I fumbled with the damned phone and finally got it recording. Her eyes were starting to water, her voice going hoarse. She heaved for breath, talking too fast to catch it.

"Hope! Wake up!" Karl shook her as hard as he dared, his own voice spiked with panic. "Please, you need to--" He turned on me. "Go get--"

I was already going, my phone on the floor. I threw the door open. A few helpful staff members were clustered around it.

"Move!" I said.

They started to, then were nearly bowled over by Jeremy, who was coming at a run, Troy behind him.

"She's--" I began.

"I hear her," he said, his tone grim.

He ran to Hope's side. She was still shouting, red-faced, coughing now as she struggled to breathe.

"Get the doctor," Jeremy said to me. "She needs to be sedated."

"If it's a message, presumably she'll stop once it's imparted," Benicio said as he stepped in. "We should let--"

"Get the damned doctor," Jeremy said in a rare snarl.

Troy and I were already running for him--and found him stepping off the elevator. He had the sedative in his bag. By the time we got back to the room, Hope was hyperventilating and her skin was turning blue, and Benicio had stopped arguing that we should let the message play out.

It kept coming even after the needle went in. Her voice dropped as the sedative took effect, then slowed to a mumble, then finally stopped, and she drifted off into silent sleep.

I left as soon as Hope was okay. The room was crowded enough--Paige had arrived, and was helping Jeremy and Karl cool Hope with damp cloths. I was just in the way. So I gave Benicio my phone and told him that I'd managed to record Hope's outburst. He said he'd get a linguist to analyze the recording.

THIRTY

The job of a bodyguard, apparently, is to look after his charge's body in every way. Well, most ways. Keeping me fed was a priority, it seemed. After the harrowing experience with Hope, Troy decided I needed a proper breakfast. So as we walked, he gave me options. I picked something. Couldn't remember what it was a minute after agreeing. He must have stopped to flag down someone to go get it and I must have kept walking. The next thing I knew, I didn't have a hulking bodyguard at my side.

Hands caught me around the waist. My fists flew up.

Adam caught them. "Please don't hit me. I've barely recovered from the last beating. Though I am glad to see you leading with your fists instead of your spells."

"If you don't want to get hit, don't sneak up behind me," I said as he bustled me into an empty office. "And you'd better be careful. Troy is going to come looking for me at any second."

"No, he won't." Adam kicked the door shut. "I just texted him and asked for a minute alone."

He caught me up in a kiss. I barely had time to start enjoying it before I remembered that he'd said we needed to talk and little alarm bells started going off. The moment I started worrying, I stopped reciprocating. He pulled back.

"Savannah?"

As I wriggled from his grasp, he looked alarmed. "What's wrong? Did you talk to Paige? Did she say something?" He exhaled. "I know she's not going to be happy about this. The age gap is--"

"I didn't tell Paige. But when we talked about telling them . . ." I rolled my shoulders. Eased onto the desktop and tried to get comfortable. "Damn it. I'm no good at this. I'd rather just stick to the kissing part."

A chuckle. "We could do that."

"I wish," I muttered. "Okay, I'm going to sound like a total nervous girlfriend here but . . . you said we needed to talk. It sounded ominous."

"It did?"