Chapter 10 - Kiema

I was stuck. My body was full of cement, and I was stuck at the bottom of a well. Opening my eyes, I could see a wavery slice of light, but it was so far away.

My mind reeled as I tried to make sense of what was happening to me. I remembered the ritual. That was normal.

Wait. Something about the ritual had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.

A zing of electricity flashed through my tired and aching body.

Tasting the coppery flavor of fear, my mind cleared in an instant.

I'd touched him.

Without precaution.

Without ritual.

Without safeguards in place.

And the biggest issue of all: the fucker had magic of his own.

I was so screwed. So freaking screwed.

Damn it! I'd known this was going to be a big, fat failure. From the changed duration of the ritual, to him not playing by the rules. Hell, he hadn't even known what was going to happen. How the fuck did Mother and Father think this was going to be okay?

They might have broken their golden goose. A harsh bark of laughter sounded in my brain at the very idea. That was something I knew they would never allow to happen.

I pulled at the weight suffusing my body. Pushing and shoving, using everything I could think of to get my leaden body to move, shift, twitch. Anything!

There.

I could have sworn my toes moved.

Forcing my attention to the lowest part of my body, I focused on my toes which were painted my customary dark purple. I brought the images of my toes into my mind. I mentally shaped each nail, touched each freckle, traced the length of each digit.

Sweat beaded on my forehead as I concentrated. Panting, exhausted, I was about to give up. To lay here and let death take me.

My big toe curled.

Fuck yeah. I wasn't some pansy-assed sissy. I was Kiema Freaking Feuer. Suck it, douchewads.

Wiggling my big toe around in circles, side to side, up and down, anything to keep the motion going. Soon my other toes joined in on the fun.

Wanting to get the rest of my body in on the groove-fest, I popped my favorite dance song into my mental player and cranked the volume up as high as it would go.

In my mind's eye, I watched as my booty bumped and dipped, I swung and sashayed across the room. My feet stomped and my legs twirled. My arms swayed and my fists pumped.

Boom, boom, shake and twirl.

Boom, boom, drop it and lock it.

There we go, girl. Damn, I look good.

Slapping the song on repeat in my head, I danced myself around the invisible room like I'd done millions of times before. This time I didn't even need to disable the ever-watching cameras that tracked me like I was an experiment.

I was free.

Well, in theory. I was still trapped in my own body.

My right leg and my left arm escaped the weight holding me captive. I shook and waved the limbs that were free. They didn't move very much, but damn if I didn't care. I could move them.

I giggled at the idea of the sight I must make to Ransom. With the next thought, I also didn't give two flying fucks what he was thinking.

Another round of the song, another body part came loose.

I blinked, the familiar room filling my vision. No longer watery and wavery, it was crisp and clear, like looking through brand new eyes.

From my place on the couch, I could see the pits and etches in the stone fireplace. See the pores of the grout. See individual fibers in the wood on the grate.

An awful smell assaulted my nose as I took in the rest of the room with new eyes. Like a bloody battle had been waged and lost, it smelled like the bodies had been left to rot in the sun. It was so thick in the room it coated my tongue, thickened in my throat.

Gagging on the smell, I pushed my face into the cushion.

Bad idea.

It smelled like what I assumed sweaty man-ass, stale sex, and dirty feet smelled like.

Lifting my face, trying to find some clean, fresh air, I toppled off the couch with a thud. Legs and arms weak, I crawled to the windows on the left side of the fireplace.

Even my skin was sensitive. I swear I could feel the grain of the individual hardwood fibers, ground down into softness, pressing against my hands and knees.

Holding my breath against the fetid stench invading my senses, I managed to crawl to the door. Blindly lifting a hand, I managed to hit the handle and fling my hurting body out into sunshine and clean air.

I almost wept as the fresh air cleansed my body, inside and out. I lay on the deck like an acolyte before a goddess, outstretched and prostrate. Letting nature warm and defrost my frozen heavy body, I fell asleep with the sun as my blanket.