Страница:
34 из 205
“I think she is being sarcastic,” Jean-Claude said. He sounded relieved. “She can't be hurt too badly if she is making jokes.”
I wasn't sure about the hurt too badly part. Nausea flowed in waves, from head to stomach, instead of the other way around. I was betting I had a concussion. The question was, how bad?
“Can you move, Anita?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Let me rephrase. If I help you, can you sit up?”
I swallowed, trying to breathe through the pain and nausea. “Maybe.”
Hands curved under my shoulders. The bones in my head started sliding forward as he lifted. I gasped and swallowed. “I'm going to be sick.”
I rolled over on all fours. The movement was too rapid. The pan was a whirl of light and darkness. My stomach heaved. Vomit burned up my throat. My head was exploding.
Jean-Claude held me around the waist, one cool hand on my forehead, holding the bones of my head in place. His voice held me, a soothing sheet against my skin. He was speaking French, very softly. I didn't understand a word of it, and didn't need to. His voice held me, rocked me, took some of the pain.
He cradled me against his chest, and I was too weak to protest. The pain had been screaming through my head; now it was distant, a throbbing ache. It still felt obscene to turn my head, as if my head were sliding apart, but the pain was different, bearable.
He wiped my face and mouth with a damp cloth. “Do you feel better now?” he asked.
“Yes.” I didn't understand where the pain had gone.
Theresa said, “Jean-Claude, what have you done?”
“Nikolaos wishes her to be aware and well for this visit. You saw her. She needs a hospital, not more tormenting.”
“So you helped her.” The vampire's voice sounded amused. “Nikolaos will not be pleased.”
I felt him shrug. “I did what was necessary.”
I could open my eyes without squinting or increasing the pain. We were in a dungeon; there was no other word for it. Thick stone walls enclosed a square room, perhaps twenty by twenty feet. Steps led up to a barred, wooden door. There were even chains set in the walls. Torches guttered along the walls. The only thing missing was a rack and a black-hooded torturer, one with big, beefy arms, and a tattoo that said “I love Mom.” Yeah, that would have made it perfect.
I was feeling better, much better. I shouldn't have been recovering this quickly. I had been hurt before, badly. It didn't just fade, not like this.
“Can you sit unaided?” Jean-Claude asked.
Surprisingly, the answer was yes.
|< Пред. 32 33 34 35 36 След. >|