Curse And Craving

51

Power surged in my chest and into the air around me, making the hair on my arms and legs stand on end. My long dark curls around my face flutter in an unnatural breeze. I embraced the magical charge, wrapped its tendrils around me, and beckoned it to grow. My eyes still fixed on my reflection in the fractured mirror, I reached up again to the necklace clasp, continuing the chant. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and heat bloomed around my neck until it was almost unbearable. Just as the pain became too much and I considered giving up, the clasp gave, and the necklace slipped from my hands into my lap. I did it. Holy s**t, I did it! With trembling fingers, I lifted the necklace and examined the object that had derailed my life. It looked so innocuous. So ordinary. A hysterical laugh bubbled up from deep in my belly, and tears of relief filled my eyes. It was done. I was free. But what now? Did I jump on a plane back home? No, I needed to make sure danger didn’t follow me, and I needed to get rid of the damn necklace. I surged to my feet before crippling pain shot through my head. My hands clamped down over my temples, and I bent at the waist as a wave of devastating nausea caused me to dry heave without warning. Stumbling to the bathroom, I curled up around the toilet and vomited repeatedly. Black dots floated in my vision. Was this a result of removing the necklace? I couldn’t imagine what else would have caused such a violent reaction. I’d been so confident I could return to being human, but what if I couldn’t? I’d failed to even consider that removing the chain might have a deadly effect. Even if it did, you’re still better off. I wasn’t sure I agreed with that particularly dismal thought. Eventually, my stomach calmed enough that I was able to sit back against the bathroom wall. The necklace was still clutched in my hand. I lifted it, staring at it again for long seconds before getting on my knees and removing the lid on the back of the toilet. I tied the necklace to the flushing mechanism, then replaced the lid. The object was too powerful to risk it falling into the wrong hands. Until I could figure out what to do with it, the toilet was its new home. Sinking back against the wall, I rolled my head to the side. The Brownie man stood not far away with one of my kitchen cups half-full of water and his eyes fixed on me unwaveringly. He tipped his head in my direction, then toward the cup of water, before stepping back from the glass. Slowly, so as not to scare him, I reached for the glass and brought it to my lips. A part of me worried that perhaps drinking the contents wouldn't be wise, but a larger part was thirsty and exhausted and tired of questioning things. The water was heaven going down my ravaged throat. When I placed the empty glass on the floor, I was alone again. I dragged myself to my feet, and using the wall as support, I fumbled my way to the comfort of my bed. Shock settled over me like a dense fog, dulling my emotions and leaving me incapable of holding a thought. The dream images, the raging emotions, the suffocating magic, removing the necklace, the headache and sickness—it was all more than my body and mind could take. I let the fog wrap me in its cocoon and drifted to a place where there was no time or space. OceanofPDF.com Chapter Twenty-Two MY ALARM GOING OFF THE FOLLOWING MORNING FELT LIKE A DRILL burrowing a hole into my skull. After turning it off, I lay on my back staring at the ceiling and contemplated calling in sick. A girl could only take so much. However, my heavily engrained work ethic was already gearing up for a guilt trip about calling in sick when I hadn't even worked at the museum for three weeks. Until I was certain I would quit and move back home, I needed to refrain from getting fired. Besides, the headache made me miserable either way. Might as well be miserable at work. I rolled myself out of bed and into the shower. After fifteen minutes of scalding water, I was starting to feel alive again. I dressed in a scoop-neck sweater blouse with slacks and realized that my years of unwavering commitment to the necklace meant I didn't have a single replacement piece. I wasn't all that particular about fashion, so instead, I put on some large dangly earrings and called it an outfit. After breakfast, I gathered my things and noticed Lochlan's phone in my purse. Scrolling to the contacts, Lochlan and Michael were the only two listed. Lochlan hated texting, but I wasn't up for phone calls. He’d have to manage. I clicked on his contact and typed out a message informing him that the necklace had originated from Merlin. Lochlan needed to know about the necklace because the most logical course of action was for me to entrust him with the magical object. I wasn’t making any hasty decisions, but that was my number one plan at the moment. Not waiting for a reply, I threw the phone in my purse, put on a coat, and left for work. It was a gorgeous morning—crisp but not bitingly cold, and no wind or mist for a change. I walked with a new energy in my step. Not even a pulsing headache could slow me down when I’d achieved such a victory as gaining my freedom. I was almost to the museum when I noticed Ronan on the sidewalk ahead of me. His eyes were trained on me, giving me the impression that it was no coincidence I was bumping into him. He wasn’t my favorite person at the moment, but I was feeling generous. I flashed a small smile and slowed when I approached.