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She strained to gaze beyond her mother’s face, but the mist had thickened, making it impossible to see. She reached out, snagging her mom’s hand in hers. “I won’t let you leave me.”
Her mother’s hand slipped like water in her grasp, but understanding shone from her warm brown eyes, and her voice was steady and clear in Lillian’s ear, while the vision faded into the gray mist.
“Don’t be afraid, my darling.”
Tristan tapped his foot and waited for Tanya—the healer who’d been held at Oak Haven and Brian’s men had tracked down—to tell him what to do next. What was taking her so long? Shouldn’t they be getting started by now?
It had been a week since he’d located the healer, who had been in police custody, and pulled strings to have her come to Cleveland and attempt to cure Lillian. A week fraught with panic and frustration and anxiety, while he wondered if Lillian would live or die. She had slipped into a coma while Tristan held her hands, helpless to save her.
Now Tanya was finally settled into a chair next to Lillian’s bed and her eyes were shut. That had been more than thirty minutes ago. Tristan swore she hadn’t moved an inch since then.
He passed his gaze again over her slim figure dressed in jeans and a plain, white sweatshirt. She didn’t look like she had extrasensory ability. She looked more like a small mouse than the heroine who could save the day. She wore her brown hair braided, her eyes were too close together and narrow, and her skin held a grayish cast, like she hadn’t seen the sun in a good long while.
Tanya gasped, and his heartbeat sped up. He held his breath, but she didn’t utter another sound or open her eyes. What if she were playacting, only pretending to have healing ability for the money? He’d paid her a tremendous sum to cure Lillian.
He let his breath out and tried to slow his beating heart. Really, if he’d been left to pick Tanya out as a healer among a room full of people, she’d be the last person he would have selected.
He hunched over his clasped hands and tried not to gaze at Lillian, who lay motionless. Every time his eyes rested on her slight figure, a rope of despair twisted his stomach into knots.
Tanya coughed, and he looked up, his gaze settling on Lillian’s still figure in the hospital bed again.A mistake.A long, blue tube snaked oxygen into her lungs, and a spiderweb of cords crisscrossed her chest, feeding the drugs keeping her alive into her veins.
He bowed his head, his gaze fixing again on his hands, gripping them to counteract the vision of a lifeless Lillian he couldn’t erase from his brain. She should have died. Only the fast action of the emergency room doctor shocking her heart into beating had kept her alive. Now she was on life support.
He breathed deep, the harsh smell of antiseptics and lemon mingling with the fresh scent of roses he had placed in the vase on the nightstand by her bed. Was he crazy to think a healing even possible? That Tanya—a twenty-two-year-old kid from Russia whom Kinetica had kidnapped, and until a week ago, had forced to conduct atrocious experiments—that Tanya could somehow awaken Lillian from a coma?
“It will work,” Hannah said, as if she’d read his thoughts.
Lillian’s sister had been a rock-steady shoulder to lean on, displaying an incredible resourcefulness and strength. Her presence was so soothing, he’d almost forgotten she was in the room sitting next to him.
He nodded, gripping his hands together and counting to ten—anything to counteract the despair overwhelming his hard-fought control. During the time he had been away from Lillian, he’d leaked the full story of what happened at Oak Haven to the news media, exposing Kinetica and forcing the government to shut down their operations.
Hannah touched his arm, somehow restoring a measure of his equilibrium. It had been Hannah who had urged him to find the healer. Hannah who had convinced Tanya to use his energy to try and save Lillian’s life. He only prayed Hannah was right and their efforts today produced a miracle.
“You are sure you want to go through with this, da? That you understand the consequences?” Tanya asked him now in a thick accent.
That the healing may not work? That he could die in the process? Yes, he was well aware, and none of it mattered. “Just tell me what I need to do.”
“Hold hands, keep calm.” Tanya grabbed one of Lillian’s pale hands and offered the other to Tristan.
“Got it.” He pressed his lips together and slowed his breathing—a trick he’d learned to keep himself from panicking during his many ER visits with his mom—before taking Tanya’s hand in his.
A warm, fuzzy feeling took hold. And then it seemed like all the oxygen in the room was swallowed up at once, and he was left thrashing around, like a fish out of water. Tanya had warned him the healing would be dangerous, but he had no idea he’d not be able to breathe.
White spots formed behind his eyelids. Someone gasped.Hannah?The room spun wild and free, forcing him to close his eyes so he wouldn’t faint.
The last thing he recalled was the sound of a woman weeping.
Lillian blinked and opened her eyes. The fog had disappeared, giving way to glorious sunshine.
“She’s awake,” Hannah said, tossing her knitting aside and jabbing the button on the remote attached to the bed.
“Hannah?” Was she dreaming? Lillian closed her eyes and opened them again, but Hannah still sat next to her bed, knitting.
“Oh my God.” Hannah leaned over Lillian wide-eyed, scanning her from head to toe. “How do you feel? They told me you would wake up soon, but I wasn’t sure it would happen.”
“I feel fine.”
A nurse entered the room, coming immediately to her bedside and checking her vitals. “Can you tell me your name?”
