Jeff stood up. “Lead on.”
I looked at Jen and Muriel. “I say we go find out what Victoria’s Secret is.” I arched a brow.
Jen giggled and grabbed her things. Muriel jumped out of her chair so fast it fell over.
I started to stand when Chay put his hand on my arm and leaned in to me. His lips were against my ear, moving over them in a fiery caress. “We need to leave,” he murmured.
“Why?” I wasn’t ready for the day to be over. I was having fun, even with him there. Amazing.
“Because I think you’re gonna have a vision.”
“How do you…?” My stomach clenched so hard that I doubled over. He grabbed my elbow to steady me. Of course he knew. With his ability to know when a team member was in trouble, he saw the vision coming before I did.
He told the others to stay put in case the cause of the vision was in the mall. “We’ll keep in touch with our cells.”
Chay helped me outside. My head had started to pound, and the blood pulsed behind my ears so loud that I struggled to hear him.
“I’m gonna be sick,” I whispered. He steered to me a wastebasket, and I heaved the nachos I’d just eaten.
Well, that’s attractive.
We made it to his car, and I fell onto the passenger’s seat. I sat sideways, my legs outside the door. Chay handed me a napkin, and I was wiping my mouth and hands off when the vision knocked into me. I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes and tried to relax.
Lily. Red faces. Fat bodies. Hobgoblins.
I dropped my hands from my face. “It’s Lily,” I whispered. I was sure she needed our help. We needed to get to her. Protect her. My hands started to tremble, and I willed the vision to give me more. I needed more information so we’d know how to help Lily.
“What do you see?”
“I just see her with the hobgoblins.” I closed my eyes and concentrated.
Laughing. The hobgoblins are cackling. Lily is… laughing. That’s wrong. Her shoulders are shaking and the skin is crinkled at the sides of her eyes, but her mouth is covered. Crying. She must be crying. No tears. She’s not crying. Laughing, then.
“She’s… laughing.” I opened my eyes and looked into Chay’s. “What’s going on?”
He opened his mouth to answer and then clamped it shut again. His lips pressed into a thin line.
A searing pain burned through my head, and I screamed and clutched it in my hands. It pounded and pounded, over and over, like someone was hammering out a rhythm on a drum. There was no time between beats, and soon the individual pounding turned into a constant pain so intense that my jaw ached from clenching my teeth against it.
She’s shaking hands. A pale, white hand inside a large, gray one.
My right hand started to burn. Jerking it away from my head, I looked at it. I expected to see burn marks, but there was nothing.
I looked at Chay again. He seemed resigned. His lips were pressed together and his hands were laced behind his neck. “I knew it was coming. I hoped I was wrong, but I knew it was coming.” He shook his head, a scowl marring his features. “Damn it!”
“What’s going on?” He turned his face from me, not answering. I reached out and pulled his chin toward me. “What’s going on?” My teeth clenched against the pain from my twisting stomach and throbbing head.
His eyes turned dark, like storm clouds moving across the sun; the blue and green swirled together. Reaching up, he pulled my hand from his face, looking at it for a long minute before turning it over and pressing his lips to my palm. It was incredibly sensual and took me totally by surprise. My body was singing inside. I could feel every breath, every heartbeat, every nerve ending. I had no idea what to say or do in response, so I slowly pulled my hand from his and fisted it in my lap so he couldn’t see it shake.
“Chay, tell me what’s going on. Shouldn’t we be going to Lily? She’s alone. She’ll need the rest of us for strength,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“She doesn’t need us. She’s made her decision.”
“What are you talking about?”
He ran a fingertip across my forehead and to my temple, moving it over my skin in slow, soft circles. “Is the vision gone?”
I tried to concentrate on the vision and not the feelings his one finger was pulling from me. “Yes.” I watched him, confused. “Why didn’t we have to step in? Oh no—are we too late?” I grabbed his arm.
He studied where my hand touched him, a strange expression on his face. I couldn’t decipher his looks. He had so many. I let go and slid my hand between my thigh and the car’s seat.
“Yes, we’re too late, but not in the way you think.”