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This is the kind of exhaustion that comes before a nightmare. It’s like sleep tries to drag me in. Make it impossible to escape. I’m fighting a losing battle, and I know that.
I fight anyway.
“What are you painting?” It feels like a minute later, but I’m also losing my hold on time.
“A dream.”
“I have to say, Daisy, that doesn’t look like a dream.”
The canvas abruptly comes into focus in front of me. I haven’t been paying much attention while I paint. I never do. The paintingshappen, same as the nightmares.
It’s jagged. Spiky. Thousands of small, sharp brushstrokes, like a legion of claws tearing the canvas apart. Just like fifteen other ones I have stored in built-in shelves on the side of the studio. This is all that comes out no matter what I will my hand to do.
I hate it.
My head swims.
I have to get out of here.
I drop the brush and go. Hercules is on his feet, too, but I don’t look back for him. Too tired. I’ll lose my balance. What I need is to go outside.
“Daisy.”
I have a lovely beachfront property. I wasn’t so off about the time, after all. It’s midafternoon. Opening the back door lets in blinding light. I’m between painkillers. Perfect timing. Jesus.Jesus,that hurts.
The sun is the lesser of two evils, so I walk out into it like I belong there. Out across the strip of grass. Out to warm sand, and stop.
Look up.
My eyes water, but I force them open. It won’t take long. It justfeelslike forever. It won’t take long, and then—
A hand covers my eyes, and it’s blessedly, wretchedly dark. A strong arm goes solidly around my waist, holding me close to an equally solid body.That’swhat his muscles feel like. It’s Hercules. I feel like I’ve always known his hands.
“Daisy.” His voice vibrates through his body and mine. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Uncover my eyes.”
“You could notpayme to uncover your eyes right now. Answer me. What the fuck are you doing?”
“Listen, it’s just—it’s not a big deal. Uncover my eyes.”
“What happens if I do that?”
“I swear, it won’t be a big deal.”
A pit of despair opens up underneath me. It feels huge, like all the sand from the beach and from the ocean could fall into it. My eyes are closed underneath Hercules’s palm. Everything has a staticky, blurry feeling anyway. It feels so bad. It feelsso badto wait.
“Are you…” The note of horror in his voice walks a little shiver down my spine. “Are youtryingto have a seizure right now?”
“Well…yeah.”
He turns me around by the shoulders, his hand lifting only long enough for him to wrap both hands over my eye sockets and lean close. Gold spirals around his pupils, bleeding into honey brown. Lucky guy. My eyes don’t do pretty colors anymore.Freak.He studies my eyes like there’s anything new to see.
“Why?” Hercules is calm now. Steady. Maybethisis why he has so many medals. He’s calm under pressure.
“It’s lesser. It’s the lesser.”
“The lesser ofwhat?”
