Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 166 Lisa: Fevers and Dreams

LISA

How long has it been?

A few days?

Weeks?

The sun should keep me oriented, but a fever gets me the first night I'm there.

The girl, Marisol, comes by every so often. Always with food. A few times with bowls filled with some noxious liquid that has my nostrils trying to close, avoiding the smell coming from within.

She's expressionless as she shoves it down my throat, and I'm too weak to fight her off.

It's medicine, I think.

I think that because I slowly get better after the third bowl.

In between moments of lucidity, I dream.

Normal life. Home. Mom and Dad.

Working with Ava at Beaniverse.

Flirting with that cute guy who accidentally wandered into our professor's Eng Lit class instead of some sort of philosophy class two doors down.

Cozy, happy dreams, of a place far from here.

An escape from the reality that chains me.

At some point the dreams turn from happy comfort to something uneasy and dark.

and I relax at our favorite café, sipping lattes and

then the shadows

my vision, dark tendrils snaking across the ground. I try to warn Ava, but my voice won't work.

as she kicks and struggles. I

plane, Ava beside me. She's gripping the armrests, making a joke about the turbulence. I reach for her hand to comfort her, but the plane lurches, throwing us forward. Oxygen

I'm screaming. The world outside the windows is a blur of sky

Impact.

rends. Flames erupt. Pain sears. Ava's hand slips from

a sea of blood. Ava, burning alive. Ava, torn

thrash against my chains, but I can't escape. I can't wake up. The horrors play out

mercifully, I do wake

drenched in sweat. My throat feels raw, my limbs heavy and weak. Marisol kneels beside me, holding a bowl of that

commands, tipping the

hits my tongue, but I force myself to swallow. Anything to chase away the

intensity. "How often has the Master fed from you?" she asks,

surprised by the question. "Just once," I rasp out,

once?" She shakes her head. "The withdrawal shouldn't be

an undercurrent of

she mutters, "He must favor you greatly,

to respond to that. The idea that this monster might favor

her lips moving but no words coming

behavior. My body aches, my mind feels

me again, her hands prodding at my skin with a clinical detachment that makes me

what she's doing. Her fingers press against my neck, my wrists, my ankles. It's only when she peers down at my shoulder that I realize what she's looking

out, my voice rough

a strange intensity. "Only once," she repeats, as if tasting the words. "But the

the agonizing pain, and

trying to push

girl settles back on her heels, crossing her arms and resting her cheek on them as she stares at me. There's something wistful

her eyes never leaving mine. "When did you realize you were in