Lux (The Nocte Trilogy 3)

Finn’s face swirls in front of mine.

“Calla, breathe,” he instructs, his hand on mine, his blue eyes filled with worry. “Breathe.”

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

“Finn,” I whisper. But that’s all I can do, all I can say, all I can plead.

Something is wrong here.

Something.

Something.

Something.

Everything.

I can feel it.

Then I feel nothing because everything fades away.

When I wake, I’m in my room alone. It’s dark outside, early morning. I’ve been sleeping all day and all night, probably a product of Sabine’s herbs. I stir, rub my bleary eyes and finally sit.

I’m alone.

Dare.

Dare.

My memories of this morning erupt like a volcano in my head and I lurch for the phone. I call the operator and ask to be connected to the hospital because I obviously don’t know the number.

When someone answers, I stumble with my words.

“Yes, can you connect me to Dare DuBray’s room, please?”

“Just a moment.” The woman’s voice is perfunctory, but I feel relieved. Just a moment. I’ll hear his voice in a moment. Thank God. They can’t keep me from him. No one can.

I wait.

And wait.

And then the perfunctory woman is back.

“What was the name again, miss?”

“Adair DuBray,” I tell her tightly.

There is a pause and clicking on a computer.

“We don’t have a patient by that name,” she tells me.

“Was he discharged?” I ask hopefully. “He was there yesterday for an infection. He got a tattoo and…”

“Miss, we haven’t had a patient by that name. Not yesterday, not ever. He’s not in our system. He wasn’t here.”

“That’s a mistake,” I whisper, but she’s resolute.

“There’s no mistake, miss.”