Page 6 of His Retribution

The man with the soulless eyes.

He grips my throat, squeezes.

I fight for breath, struggle to take air into my lungs.

“Ty si mal byt' môj.” His voice is distorted, dripping with rage. “Vždy si mal byt' môj.”

His grip tightens and I can feel his nails, feel them grow and pierce my flesh. My eyes go skyward, the blackest night sliced with fire, creatures with wings dotting the sky. I struggle, try to break free, try to pry his fingers from around my neck and just when I feel his nails dig deeper my vision changes.

I see a man, the man with long black hair and red eyes. He's dressed like a soldier, shield in his hand, sword in the other. He's fighting, running, barking commands to his army. His brothers—three of them— and his father flank him. Fierce warriors. Battle hardened.

Another shift and he's in a coffee shop. He sees a woman, sees Posey, and I'm flooded with so many feelings but most prominently, love. Love and possession. I see a lifetime pass in a matter of seconds; his life and their life together. And just as the pain in my head grows, becomes almost unbearable, I see him talking to a man, his brother. He's speaking quickly, speaking in the same language as the man with the soulless eyes, words I don't understand but hold so much urgency.

“Musíme mu to povedat', musí to vediet.”

Then the pain explodes into my skull, cripples me, and my body goes limp, everything goes black.

"Shit." A warm hand gently pats my cheek. "Gypsy, honey are you ok?"

I moan in pain. Everything fucking hurts.

Then my instincts kick in and I shoot upright only to find I'm on the floor of an unfamiliar room. My heart races as I scoot back, toward the door. The door I crash into with a thud.

"Hey..." Posey crouches into my line of sight. "Hey, it's ok. You're ok, hon, no one is going to hurt you."

I clutch the gears around my neck, my chest heaving, lungs struggling to fill. My eyes are wide but unfocused; all I can see is Posey, and when she places a tentative hand on my shin, I flinch but slowly start to regulate.

Sucking in a deep breath, I realize I'm trembling, shaking so hard I can hear my earrings jingle but when her grip on my leg tightens even that subsides.

"There she is." Posey smiles. "It's ok, honey. You're safe, no one's going to hurt you."

I blink away the fog—the visions and nightmares—then look around to find that it's only me and Posey.

"Wh-where did... where d-did everyone go?"

"They gave us a little space. Kai, my husband, is right outside the door. Casey had to get back out on the floor and Milos is at the bar." She gives me another sweet smile. "You ok?"

No.

I amsonot ok.

If my nightmares are going to start happening while I'm awake, which they seem to be doing more and more often, then I am so not fucking ok. And when she said those names? Kai and Milos? God, just thinking them has needles stabbing into my brain threatening to knock me out again.

But I don't tell her that.

"I'm… I'm fine. I-I just, I'm prone to migraines and I refuse to take anything for them."

"Rather try the holistic route?"

Yeah. That and I don't want to put poison in my body; I don't want to put in any toxins that will compromise my ability to react or put me in a sleep deep enough that I can't get out.

But I don't tell her that either.

I nod. "But sometimes they come out of nowhere and hit hard."

"I saw that."

"I'm sorry." I bring my knees to my chest, take another cleansing breath, and try to get my legs to stop shaking long enough to stand. "I'm sure that doesn't exactly work in my favor, having some flaky hippy come in here with the potential for crippling headaches at any given moment. Can't really be good for business if your bartender drops like a narcoleptic on a regular basis."