She felt Dimitri's spirit brush up against hers and then he thrust her away. The momentum pushed her from his body, back onto that ice-cold psychic path. The path itself was so broken and torn she felt very confused. She looked around her somewhat helplessly, not understanding what was happening to her.
I swear if you don't come back, Sky, I'm going to throttle you.
Josef sounded desperate. She felt lost and alone there in that cold stream. She reached for his familiar voice, using it as a guide.
She found herself back in her own body, so cold she couldn't stop shaking. Josef bent over her, hissing his anger, pressing his wrist to her mouth, glaring at her. His skin was paler than ever, almost stark white. If she could have lifted her hand to his face she would have been able to trace each line of fear stamped into it. She tried to turn her head away from his wrist, but he clamped it over her mouth and stroked her throat, forcing her to swallow.
Paul brushed back her hair with gentle fingers. Her hair was damp, as if she'd just stepped out of the shower. She couldn't stop shaking, although Paul's coat lay over her. The Carpathian blood Josef pushed into her system was hot inside her, beginning to thaw out her body after that terrible cold. Josef closed the laceration on his wrist and flopped down beside her there in the grass. He slipped his arms around her, trying to heat her with his body.
Paul lay down beside her as well, using his body to help warm her. "Look at me, Skyler," Paul instructed. There was fear in his voice as well. "Are you back with us?"
"He's somewhere in Russia," she managed. Her voice was hoarse and sounded far away. "In the forest. It's worse than I ever imagined."
Skyler woke in a panic, gasping for breath, her heart pounding, the echo of her nightmare filling her with dread. How could she have ever dreamt up such a brutal, ugly way to kill another being? What was wrong with her that she had such a vivid, disgusting imagination?
It took tremendous effort to sit up. Her head exploded with pain and she felt dizzy, so faint she was afraid she might collapse again. Drawing in a deep breath, she looked around her. She was in an unfamiliar room. It was very neat; traditional quilts lay across the bed, piled on her. Paul lay on the floor a few feet away, sleeping soundly. He looked exhausted.
She felt thin and stretched out, so utterly tired. She wanted to curl up in the fetal position under the warm covers and go back to sleep. But that nightmare . . . Dimitri. Silver threading through his body . . .
She couldn't breathe. All the air was gone from the room. Dimitri. She hadn't dreamt it. The Lycans were killing him slowly with silver. The hooks tearing through his body were bad enough, but the silver snaking its way through him was pure agony. She hadn't stopped it. She'd failed him. Completely failed him. She covered her face with her hands, weeping.
"Skyler." Paul leapt up instantly.
He wrapped his arm around her while she rocked back and forth, her face buried against his shoulder. "I didn't stop it," she sobbed. "I didn't have enough time."
Paul didn't say a word, just held her, letting her cry while he rocked her, patted her back and stroked her hair.
Exhaustion more than anything else stopped the tears. She reached a point where she couldn't cry anymore. She couldn't do anything but cling to Paul.