I shot Adam an innocent look. “Who, me?”
“Sabina, I know you care about him, but you can’t get in the middle.”
I crossed my arms and glared at the floor.
“He’s a grown-assed demon, Red.” He patted my leg and stood. “Anyway, I’m sure nothing will come of it.”
I prayed he was right, but I’d seen the doubt in Giguhl’s eyes when he said he didn’t want to rekindle things with Valva.
I dreamed again that night. Only this time no gods or nightmare versions of my relatives appeared. In fact, I didn’t remember anything about it. But one second I was asleep and the next I opened my eyes as the dream dissipated like vapor.
I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t. I tried to open my eyes but found it impossible.
Paralyzed.
A heavy weight slammed into my chest. The weight crushed my lungs. Panic rose in my throat like bile. I tried to scream, but my mouth wouldn’t work. I willed my hands to move, to hit Adam so he’d wake and help me. But my arms lay frozen and heavy on the mattress.
Breath on my face. Crushing pressure on my chest. Soft laughter. “Don’t f**k me over, Mixed-Blood.”
Through the haze of panic, I recognized Asclepius’s voice.
I tried in vain to fight him off, to dislodge his weight. Hands closed around my throat, icy cold. I choked and screams lodged in my throat like shards of glass. “Because if you do, the vengeance I will unleash on you will make Cain look like a choir boy.”
The hands tightened, cutting off my air. Veins throbbed, desperately searching for oxygen. With every last ounce of strength in my body, I sucked in air and pushed it back out in a mighty whoosh. “Adam!”
The weight lifted, disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared. Air flooded my lungs. Feeling returned to my limbs and brought with it a thousand pinpricks of needles. I reared up, gasping and sweating.
“Sabina?” Adam said, reaching for me in the dark.
I scrubbed a hand over my face and tried to calm down. Swallowing was easier than it should have been given I had just been choked. “I… I’m okay.”
I ran my hands over my throat, my arms, my chest. I really was okay. No pain, no swelling, no bruises. Only the shadowed echo of terror lingered.
“Bad dream?” he asked. Adam was used to my nightmares now. Ever since Maisie died, I had them almost nightly.
I nodded. “I think so.” Now that I’d gotten my breath under control, my brain was starting to function again. Obviously, Asclepius hadn’t appeared in my bed to choke me. It had been some sort of lucid dream.
“Tell me?” Adam asked, yawning.
“I thought Asclepius was choking me. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t yell for help. His weight was like an anvil on my chest.”
Adam sat up then, rubbing my back. “I’ve had dreams like that before. Rhea calls them the Hag.”
I turned to look at him, rested my chin on my upraised knee. “The Hag?”
“The old legends tell of a night hag who sits on her victim’s chest while they sleep and sucks their life force away. But Rhea said that there’s a more scientific reason. When we dream, our bodies go into this state of paralysis. The Hag dream happens when we wake up too soon and our brain hasn’t switched out of dream mode fully. It’s freaky.”
I sighed. “To say the least. I was terrified.”
“Given your experiences in the dream world, I’m sure it was. Besides, it’s not out of the realm of possibility that Asclepius forced it to happen. What did he say?”
I briefly described the choking sensation and Asclepius’s final threat.
Adam leaned back toward the pillows and pulled me with him. Soon I was snuggled up against his side. He kissed the top of my head. “You’ve had some major shocks lately. Not surprising they’d manifest in your dreams.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But the Asclepius stuff wasn’t just a dream.”
“True. But what can you do? Once we tell Tristan about the deadline, everything will sort itself out. In the meantime, you’ve got to get your head straight for the test tonight.”
“Bael’s balls, you guys! I’m trying to get my beauty rest here.”
I sat up and peered over the side of the bed to where Giguhl slept on the ground. He’d appeared at our door just after dawn. Apparently, his interaction with Valva had freaked him out so bad he couldn’t stand to be alone. We refused to let him get in bed with us but had agreed to let him crash on the floor.
Adam groaned and threw a pillow at the demon. “You could pull a Rip van Winkle and it wouldn’t do any good.”
“Don’t be bitter, mancy,” Giguhl shot back. “It’s not my fault you aren’t getting any action.”
“Yes, actually, yes, it is.”
I laughed and got out of bed. “All right, boys. The sun’s almost down and we need to start getting ready.”
Two male groans followed me to the bathroom. I didn’t bother looking in the mirror. I knew what I’d see. A stressed out chick with pale skin and carry-on luggage under her eyes. What I needed was a long shower, a gallon of coffee, and a major dose of confidence before I faced my father’s next test.
I got two out of the three, but beggars can’t be choosers. Even if the beggar in question might be the Chosen.
Chapter 26
That evening, we all stood in the middle of the small graveyard on the western edge of the property. A crumbling stone wall surrounded the plot, and time hadn’t been much kinder to the grave markers. By the entrance, green moss covered a statue of the Virgin Mary like a shroud. The instant I entered the place, the death energy tugged at my diaphragm with a heaviness that felt like dread.
“You’ve proven you’re strong and an adequate fighter,” Tristan was saying. He still hadn’t looked directly at me, which I assumed was an unfortunate result of seeing him naked the night before.
Speaking of awkward, across the way, Horus crossed his hands protectively over his crotch. He’d healed completely thanks to his vampiric blood, but I had a feeling he’d be giving me a wide berth for a while yet.
I narrowed my eyes at Tristan’s characterization of my skills. Adequate? I’d show him f**king adequate.
“However,” my father continued, “in Irkalla, you will not be facing corporeal beings who you can punch or shoot. You will be facing spirits. Including, I am sure, many who you put there yourself.”
I nodded. He was probably right. I’d killed hundreds of beings from several of the dark races over the last fifty-odd years. Chances were pretty good I’d run into a few of them once I reached Irkalla.