The warmth of Drake's lips against mine sent butterflies spiraling through my stomach. His strong arms tightened around me just enough to make me feel safe without stealing all the air from my lungs. I rested my cheek against his chest and breathed in his unique scent—part campfire, part wind. Everything about that moment in our bed felt right... until the butterflies in my stomach turned into angry bees bent on killing me.
My legs itched as if unseen bugs crawled through them; I couldn't keep them still. Hot and cold, my body fluctuated between extremes as I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat refused to comply.
"Drake!" My mind called to him even as my body pushed away from his.
He held onto me and refused to let me crawl into my own misery. "Sam, what's wrong?"
I tried to speak out loud, but couldn't. "I don't know. Something is happening to me. Something isn't... right."
Drops of sweat trickled down my forehead and stung my eyes. I shivered and clutched at Drake. My hands wrapped around his taut muscles as if trying to absorb their strength.
His hand dropped to my swollen belly, and he switched to our mind link. 'Is it our baby?'
My mental whimper made me cringe, but I couldn't help it. My body had been invaded by aliens. I wanted to tear my skin off and crawl out of myself. A ball of anxiety grew in my chest, smothering any of the peace I had felt just moments before. "It's not my stomach, it's everywhere. Like a poison or... Ahhhh!"
The pain that ripped through me swallowed up all thoughts of words. If I hadn't already been lying in bed with Drake, I would have crashed to the floor. A vague need clawed at me—some unnamable craving that made no sense to my mind, but which captured the needs of my body.
Some thing was missing, and its absence sent my nervous system into chaos.
Drake covered me with a blanket, and pressed his cool hand against my head as he brushed long, sweaty strands of dark hair from my eyes. "I'm really freaking out here, Sam. You're pale, clammy, and you can't stop shaking. I don't know what to do. I think I should take you to the hospital." The skin around his blue eyes tightened in worry.
I spoke through chattering teeth. "You can't. Baby. Experiments. They might take me away."
I couldn't summon enough clarity to tell him why this was such a bad idea. I'd spent my whole life in a lie. The people who'd raised me as a paranormal spy, for hire to the rich and powerful, had given me everything any girl would ever need to live comfortably. Then they burned my artwork, killed my mentor, impregnated me against my will and held me prisoner.
If it hadn't been for Drake, I'd have never gotten out. As it was, two people died trying to help me escape.
Drake and I met telepathically, after they kidnapped and imprisoned him at my school. We fell in love before ever meeting in person. Through him, I had learned not only to read minds, but to control them—a gift I often wished I could give back. But it had saved us.
We were free, but hunted.
We couldn't go to a hospital, where we might be reported or discovered. It was too risky.
I didn't realize he'd gone until he came back with a cool washcloth and pressed it against my forehead. "If you aren't feeling better soon, we’re going to the doctor’s. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and get you out of there, if it comes to that." He towered over me, his spiky blond hair disheveled from our recent make-out session that now seemed so long ago.
My body shuddered, and not just because of my symptoms. Whatever it takes could mean a lot of things to Drake, including—but not limited to—physical violence and total mind control. The darkness of his paranormal talents scared me and seduced me in equal measure.
***
Time held no meaning as my mind darted in and out of memories. Past and present collided to create a full-sensory collage out of my life: playing hide-n-seek with my best friends Luke—who always cheated by walking through walls when he was about to be caught—and Lucy; Mr. Caldrin critiquing my sketches and offering ideas to make them more realistic; targets changing faces, blending into the same person, their thoughts rippling through my mind like waves. Through it all, a demon stalked me from the shadows of my memories, never quite showing its face, but crouching, waiting.
And then I dreamed....
***
The needle plunges into me, tearing through skin in one small, sharp poke. Yellow fluid drains from the vial and into my veins.
I float outside my body, above a younger version of myself sitting on the hospital bed. My brown hair is longer, a child's cut with blunted bangs and pigtails. My blue eyes look brighter, more innocent. "Why do I have to get this all the time? What does it do?"