Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale #3) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,25
The other eye rolled around its cracked porcelain face framed with matted brown hair. Its white dressing gown had gone yellow with age.
Evil. It was all I knew and understood.
“Yes, you have that extra muchness too. Maybe even more so because you keep it hidden away. Protected. But I can taste it. Want it. The other one tricked me. Got away. You will not.” Her horror, movie-ready appearance floated closer to me, a gang of rough-looking toys behind her, their energy vibrating with hate, fury, revenge, and death.
“Get her!” The doll pointed her finger, the rush of toys behind her coming for me.
Holy roasting nuts! Panic tapped the back of my neck. Leaping back on my feet, I took off, my legs pumping. I heard their shouts and hollers right behind me, instinct pushing me on.
Time didn’t exist. The concept of why or how didn’t enter my head. I ran until the air shifted, chilling my skin, another strange heaviness bearing down on me.
Everything was quiet.
Their cries for me dissolved, and I twisted to see them. They were all lined up several feet back behind barricade I could not see—one they were not venturing past.
“Dinah,” a voice called to me, returning my attention forward, my feet moving to the caller. Lights blinked around me like a thousand fireflies, various emotions causing a tear to slip down my cheek. I could feel it all. Every varying degree of grief, guilt, heartache, love, hate, jealousy, and concern.
“Come to me, Dinah,” the voice called again, leading me down the path, the flutter of lights blinking in frantic repetition, almost as if they were trying to warn me. It felt as if they were trying to block my way, but nothing entered my head except to follow the voice.
My jingle-belled shoes stopped at a tree. A black box tied with thick rope sat there like a present; the roots of the tree were starting to wrap around it, knotting around the box.
“It’s for you, my dear. Open it.” The strong feminine voice coiled in my ear. “You are so special, Dinah. You will restore all that’s been lost. Change the past, present, and future.”
Lowering, I reached for the box, but the roots sensed me and tightened around it. The lights soaring around me flashed brighter, a frenzied warning, telling me to stop.
“Ignore them. They are fools. Weak. It’s you who has the power. You work so hard. Just take me with you and you will have all you desire.”
My finger brushed the black package, and the roots recoiled at my touch, a strong pulse zapping up my arm.
Danger. Powerful. Evil.
“Dinah,” a man’s deep voice shouted in the distance, turning my head. I recognized the voice, the name he called tugging on a thread in my brain. “Dinah, wake up.” His voice felt like it was coming from everywhere. Above and around. Standing up, I needed to follow it. Whatever it was, I had to be near it. In that moment, it was my only anchor.
“No!” A woman’s voice hissed in my ear. “Don’t listen to anyone but me, Dinah. Open the box. Let me free. You singularly have the gift, Dinah. Your destiny led you here. To fight by my side.”
“Dinah?” Dinah, yes! That was my name, wasn’t it? He called again, his voice stronger, letting me latch on to it, twine around the cords he dropped down from the sky, pulling me back up. “Open your eyes. Wake up.”
I nodded, wanting to do nothing more. The atmosphere blurred around me, growing hazy, and I followed the voice.
“Nooooo!” Blistering anger seized me like a snapping crocodile, but I shut my eyes and let my body float up, the voice yanking me through the darkness to light.
Chapter 9
“She’s burning up,” a deep voice rumbled. Something both warm and cool touched my face, causing a gurgling noise to rise from my throat. It felt heavenly, stripping away the fire still smoldering under my skin. “What the fuck did you give her?” His voice continued to bring me up from my grave. My lids felt so heavy, my body limp and hot. I wanted to sink back down and lose myself in the forgotten.
“Nothing! She had a cranberry colada.” Another man spoke, light and warm. “Two, actually. Sucked those down like Mrs. Cratchit does with my dic—”
“Stop. Right now.” The voice was angry. Violent. Dangerous. My body reacted to his baritone, like thunder on the horizon. Terrifying, but it also made me feel awake and alive.