On the drive to the beach, Isabel felt herself getting feverish.
She thought it was probably a cold caused by the thin dress, closing her eyes and reclining in the passenger seat. But the fever escalated rapidly. One moment she was enjoying the cool air of the car, the next she felt as if she were in an oven.
Sweat formed on her pale forehead, trickling down her soft cheeks. Chris noticed her discomfort and quickly pulled over, taking out a handkerchief to wipe her sweat.
"Isabel?"
The familiar scent of cedar reached her nose, but it did little to alleviate her condition. She felt her consciousness drifting to a strange place, dark and warm, like the deep sea before dawn.
"Wake up, Isabel!"
That sounded like Chris. Where was she? Wasn't she in his car?
Just then, a custom black Paga
