She struggled to push herself out of the recliner, clinging to the arm for balance, her heart pounding against her ribs. The lingering effects of the pain medication made her head swim.
"Well?"
The furious tone reverberated through her bones, raising goosebumps along her arms and sending a shiver down her spine. Her heart skipped several beats before racing to catch up, hammering against her ribs as though trying to escape her chest. The voice carried an unearthly quality, masculine and compelling, unlike anything she'd ever heard in her sixty-seven years.
She scanned her small living room, finding no intruder, yet she could somehow sense the brooding, oppressive masculine presence.
"W-who's there?" A hoarse whisper was all she could manage. Her writer's imagination supplied a hundred scenarios,each more fantastical than the last, but none quite matched the reality of an invisible man's voice demanding answers in her living room.
"I asked you a question, woman." The voice held centuries of command, expecting immediate compliance. "What are you doing with my pendant?"
Mandy's throat constricted. Her eyes flew open - when had she closed them? - at the harsh male voice.
Her chin tilted upward. She might be old, she might be disabled, but she wasn't going to let anyone push her around. Even if it was some kind of ghost. "I'm not in the habit of letting disembodied voices intimidate me in my own home, no matter how impressive they might sound. So if you want me to answer, you can damned well show yourself."
A tall figure materialized from the shadows near her bookshelf across the room. Mandy blinked hard, certain the pain meds were causing hallucinations. He stood well over six feet, a tall, imposing figure in flowing robes of midnight blue embroidered with silver threads that caught the lamplight.
But it was his hair that caught her attention - pure white, flowing past his shoulders, contrasting sharply with black eyebrows above pale blue eyes that gleamed like frozen ice in the low light.
A chill ran down her spine, and she glanced at her front door. How had he gotten in? She'd locked the door, she was certain of it. And why was he wearing what looked like something out of Arabian Nights?
"Who are you?" Her voice came out embarrassingly squeaky. "How did you get in my apartment?"
The man radiated power, filling her small living room with an almost electrical charge that made the hair on her arms stand up. His glacial gaze locked onto her with the focus of a hunter stalking prey.
Mandy took a shaky step backward, her mind racing. Her heel caught on something solid - the low ottoman she kept beside her recliner for grooming the cats. She lost her balance, and a sharp cry escaped her lips as she fell. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for impact with the hardwood floor.
Pain exploded through Mandy's hip and back as she landed, her vision bursting into a cascade of bright stars. A strangled cry tore from her throat as white-hot agony radiated through her spine. She instinctively tried to curl away from the pain, but every movement only intensified the burning sensation.
Through the haze of pain, she heard a deep voice muttering what sounded like foreign words - possibly curses from his tone. The earlier hostility had vanished, replaced by genuine concern.
Strong hands gently turned her onto her side, positioning her carefully. The voice spoke again, closer now, its ethereal quality softened with worry. "Where does it hurt? Tell me where the pain is worst."
Mandy struggled to focus on his words through the sharp agony stabbing through her hip and back. His hands were impossibly warm where they touched her shoulders, radiating a heat that seemed to seep into her muscles.
"M-my hip," she managed to gasp out. "Down low."
"Don't move," the voice commanded, though gently now. "Let me help you."
His hands shifted, one on her hip, while the other pressed carefully against her lower back. That strange warmth intensified, spreading outward from his touch like ripples in a pond.
Heat continued to radiate from the stranger's hands, seeping deep into Mandy's muscles. The burning agony in her lower back began to fade, replaced by a tingling warmth that spread through her spine. Her rigid muscles relaxed as the pain ebbed away, leaving behind a profound sense of relief.
The sensation reminded her a little of Jacinth's presence in the ER - how the woman's gentle voice and warm smile had somehow made the pain more bearable. But this was different, more intense. Whereas Jacinth's presence had merely dulled the edges of her discomfort, this man's touch actively chased the pain away.
"Better?" His voice had lost its earlier anger, though it still held that deep resonance that made her skin prickle.
"Yes." Mandy drew a careful breath, amazed to find she could do so without sparking fresh waves of agony. She shifted slightly - a movement that would normally have sent lightning bolts of pain through her spine - and found only blessed relief. "How did you...?"
The warmth from his hands pulsed once more, chasing away the last lingering traces of discomfort. She hadn't felt this free of pain in years. Even the shot they'd given her in the ER hadn't provided such complete relief.
Through her amazement at being pain-free, Mandy barely registered being lifted. Strong arms scooped her up as though she weighed nothing, despite her plus-size frame. Her breath caught - no one had been able to lift her since, well, a very long time. Yet this stranger cradled her against his chest with apparent ease, the fabric of his robes impossibly soft against her cheek.
In two smooth strides, he reached her recliner, and deposited her gently in it. The familiar cushions embraced her, but nothing felt familiar about this situation. She stared up at him, taking in the stern set of his jaw, the gleam in those icy eyes, the way his white hair seemed to float slightly as though stirred by an unfelt breeze.
Reality crashed in, and she began to shake. The events of the night - the endless hours of pain in the ER, the mysteriousJacinth, and now this impossible man materializing in her living room - overwhelmed her.
The room tilted sideways as Mandy's breath came in short, sharp gasps. Her heart hammered against her ribs, its frantic rhythm echoing in her ears. Cold sweat broke out across her forehead and the back of her neck. Her hands trembled violently as she gripped the arms of her recliner, her knuckles white with tension. The edges of her vision grew fuzzy, dark spots dancing before her eyes.
