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Struggling to steady her trembling fingers, Isla took the bottle. She raised it in a toast. “To freedom,” she said before drinking it down.

She didn’t really know what to expect. Ivana took the bottle from her hand and stared at her pensively, as though at any moment an ear-piercing shriek would burst from her lips and she would fall to the floor in a fit.

“You should lie down,” Ivana said, the furrow between her brows deepening. “It can come upon you quickly, catch you unawares.”

Trusting the lady’s judgement, Isla climbed onto the four-poster bed. She lay in the middle, her arms by her sides and stared up at a sky of plush burgundy material. “I feel a little foolish just lying here.”

“You must prepare yourself.” Ivana came to stand at her side, bent forward to brush the hair from her brow. “Do you feel any different?”

The mind often conjured imaginary symptoms when one expected to be ill. Of course, her stomach was gurgling, and her hands were shaking, but that could easily be attributed to fear.

“I have a strange taste in my mouth.” Isla ran her tongue over her teeth. “And my stomach feels bloated as though all the fluid from my body is being drawn to one place.”

Ivana reached down and took her hand, clasped it tight. “Hold onto me. Squeeze as hard as you can when you’re struggling to cope with the pain.”

Isla stared up at her. She had known kindness in her life; she knew when a person’s heart was pure and genuine. Ivana was right. When they parted, they would do so as friends. “Let me thank you now, for your caring words and thoughtful—”

A sharp stabbing pain caused her to tug on Ivana’s hand. She tried to roll onto her side to suppress it, but no matter which way she twisted or turned her body it did not subside.

Ivana touched her head. “You feel hot.” Her voice held a hint of panic.

The pain grew in intensity, like a thousand pins being prodded into her body over and over again. Her face became so hot she knew if she licked her finger and dabbed at her cheek she would hear a sizzle.

“H-help me.” The words burst from her lips as she clutched her throat.

She was burning, cooking from the inside out. The Devil had come to claim her. This is what it felt like deep in the fiery pits of Hell.

Somewhere in the distance, she thought she heard Lachlan’s voice.

“She has taken the cure already? Why the hell didn’t she wait?” He sounded hurt not angry.

“It doesn’t matter now. Help me to take off her dress,?

?? Ivana snapped.

Isla could feel them tugging and pulling, the motions going some way to distract her mind. She wanted to speak but seemed to have lost the ability to form a word. She wanted to tell him not to worry.

I love you, Lachlan.

A solitary tear trickled down her cheek: an acceptance that this might be her last moment with him. Finding the strength to raise her hand, she felt an instant peace when his palm settled against hers.

But then another wave of pain swept through her, a blistering inferno sucking her down into a black abyss.

Chapter 13

Lachlan loomed over the bed, watching helplessly as Isla squirmed and writhed in agony. “Can we not give her something to help with the pain? A dose of laudanum or one of Malmuirie’s herbal concoctions.”

“We cannot do anything that might interfere with the elixir,” Ivana replied. “In an attempt to help her, we could cause her more harm. It may render the cure ineffective, prolong the healing process.”

Lachlan sighed. Every cry and shriek hurt him like a cleaver to his heart. “I cannot stand here and do nothing.”

“Then mop her brow, talk to her, hold her hand.”

Needing to do something to distract his mind, he rushed over to the washstand, wrung out the cloth that had been soaking in cold water and came back to the bed. With gentle strokes, he wiped her brow, her flushed face and the bright red apples of her cheeks.

“You will wake soon,” he whispered as he continued with his ministrations. “You will wake and all will be well.”

“We must hope that she is fortunate. The pain will be too much to bear. Losing consciousness would be a blessing. Leo’s body refused to surrender. He fought against it for long, torturous hours.” Ivana swallowed visibly, shook her head and dabbed at the corner of her eye. “The memory of that night is far from pleasant.”


Tags: Adele Clee The Brotherhood Paranormal