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Her head shook violently from side to side, sending long strands of dark auburn hair flying in all directions. “No, no, no!” Her long arms wrapped around her waist and she hugged herself tightly.
Cane’s panic welled within him. “Bev…please.” He tried to gently coax her to unravel herself and look at him. She refused.
“Oh damn it,” she moaned. In pain.
Alarm replaced his panic. “Bev, for god’s sake. Tell me what the hell is happening!”
When a scream of sheer agony tore from her lips, it tore him apart.
“Bevelyn!”
“I can’t…stop it.” Terror and pain were wrapped around each word. “No!” she cried out as one hand finally released her side and slapped against the hardwood floor, only to cause her to scream again from the obvious sting.
He was frantic now. It was like some unforeseeable evil had been unleashed within her body and was taking over.
Hurting her.
Killing her!
Cane’s hands gripped her shoulders as she began to shake. Her sobs, her grief, her agony were nearly the death of him. He felt helpless…couldn’t help her because he had no fucking idea what the hell was happening to her!
“Bev, please,” he begged, his voice as tight as his coiled nerves. “Tell me where it hurts.”
“Everywhere!”
But how? She was immortal!
He knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt. So what was happening to her?
“Not…supposed…to…know…” She sounded as though a million daggers were spearing her at once. “It’s gone!”
What the fuck?
“Damn it!” he roared. “I don’t know what you’re saying! I don’t know what’s happening to you. I don’t know how to help you, Bev!”
And that made him half out of his mind with worry and fear and the kind of pain he’d never experienced before. Sharp, acute. Full of hopelessness and dread and despair.
Holy hell! It wasn’t like he could call 9-1-1. She was immortal—no doctor could save her!
Finally, her hand shot out and gripped his wrist. Weakly. Lacking all the strength she’d possessed before.
Her head lifted, her eyes watery and full of grief. Tears streamed down her face. Nothing short of pure torture twisted her once-breathtaking face into something agonizing to look at.
Rage ripped through him at this unknown evil that was eating her alive, causing her so much pain.
“Bev.” His voice was but a whisper. He wanted to tear apart whatever it was that possessed her. With his bare hands, his teeth.
He wanted to shred it, torture it, make it pay for every ounce of torment he caused her.
And then suddenly, she collapsed against him. As though the demon had left her body. Drained her completely, leaving her limp and nearly lifeless in his arms.
“Bevelyn,” he said in a soft, albeit tortured, tone. “Sweetheart… Say something.”
“It’s gone.” Her voice was hoarse and there was a note of defeat that perplexed him.
If she truly had been possessed and that demon had been exorcized, why the hell was she now just a shell of her former self?
“I’m dying,” she said. Answering his unspoken question.
