simmering soup that mercifully tumbled to the floor away from him with a terrible clatter, but, by sheer luck, it didn’t burn anyone. “Let me go!”
Cody stared at him. “Eric! What the hell? You could have-”
“I have to go find her,” Eric said, shaking his head and stomping out of the room.
“Eric!” Cody was calling after him, but Eric ignored all that.
He had to find Michelle and make things right, and no one could be allowed to get in the way.
He was halfway up the stairs when he heard Lydia’s voice in his head.
Eric…
Eric, my love…
He couldn’t breathe. Nothing made sense at all. Memories he’d somehow forgotten in the space of a few hours, broke through the haze in his mind.
Lydia…
His mind warred with itself. Eric stood on the stairs, clutching the banister as sweat beaded on his forehead. This couldn’t be right. A person wasn’t supposed to exert this much effort to think clearly, but the very notion of reality was swimming around him. Guests passed him on the stairway and looked at him funny, probably because he was paused, frozen as if he had perhaps forgotten how to climb stairs.
Eric forced himself to climb the rest of the stairs to the landing. He had just come from this wing. He had woken up from his nap close to Michelle’s suite. But why had he left?
FIND MICHELLE, that aggressive voice demanded once again.
It drowned every other thought. Memories attempted to surface. He had been walking with Lydia in the woods. It didn’t seem to make sense. Where had she come from? He had not so much as seen her in years, had he? Everything was turned around, distorted, and surreal.
Halfway down the corridor, he let his eyes slip shut. But instead of remembering Lydia holding his hand as they walked, it was Michelle walking next to him in the woods. That made much more sense. He must have been confused before. The voice agreed and his head stopped throbbing.
It was Michelle. It had always been Michelle. Something was direly wrong with him to have pushed her away. He took a deep breath, feeling calmer, and walked with purpose in the direction of her suite, all doubts melting with the calm - if surreal sense - of knowing this was what the voice wanted.
I can smell her…
Lydia’s scent wafted in the air. But that didn’t make sense. She was gone...or was she…?
Ignore that, the demanding voice said. Go to Michelle and this will all make sense.
Eric knocked on the door and it was like watching someone else knock. It felt as if his hand was disconnected from his body.
“Eric,” Michelle answered, looking as beautiful as ever, if a bit harried. Her normally perfect glossy, blonde hair was all askew and her eyes seemed darker than usual. Her mouth was tight and she stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come in, darling. Are you alright?”
“Yeah…” He scratched his head. His chest felt tight. “Yeah…”
“Shit, it worked?” A lanky man with long, dark hair stood in the kitchenette, a highball glass in his hand. He looked familiar to Eric. He must have seen him around the lodge. He was Michelle’s business partner. That was it. That made sense…
“Michelle…” Eric squinted at her, trying to focus.
“You’re fine, Eric,” Michelle said calmly. “Just do what the voice says. Okay?”
“Yeah, I um…” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m not feeling very well. We had a fight. Didn’t we? I apologize, I don’t know why… Why would I leave you ever? I love you…”
His voice, like his hand, seemed disconnected somehow. The inside of his mind screamed, some small part of him watching his actions from a dark little hole where he was trapped, unable to break free.
“Why does he look like that?” the dark-haired man asked. “He looks freaked out.”
“I told you,” Michelle said slowly. “Mind control spells are delicate. He’s at war with himself. But I have a hold on him. I can feel it.”
“What...what are you talking about?” Eric said. Nothing she said made sense.
“Nothing, darling,” Michelle said quickly. She swept up to him and took his hand. Her skin felt icy cold and wrong somehow. It was like touching a snake when you were expecting human skin. But he watched himself lean into her, letting her lead him into the room.
He shouldn’t resist, he thought. If he resisted, he’d feel sick.
“Come here,” Michelle was saying. “Sit down and have a drink. Just stay here with me, my love. We’ll sort it all out.”
“Um,