Andre was just fine. She was the one who needed to control her thoughts. She took another deep, calming breath and lifted her hands. She sang the notes softly this time, putting more power behind them, more resolve. As each string slid back into place, she tied a knot by adding a note on. Still, she was ready, standing this time at the end of the song. Just as she sang the last note and the string untangled, she pushed through the barrier into the light of day.
The sun hit her hard, nearly blinding her. Her eyes burned. She had to close them and rummage blindly for her sunglasses. It had to be the altitude. Her eyes were never particularly sensitive to the sun, but not only did her skin feel like it was burning, her eyes hurt—so badly tears leaked down her face.
She pulled on her windbreaker to shield her bare arms from the rays of the sun as she took a careful look around. The mountains were truly beautiful and wild. This range was one of the last preserves for wildlife in Europe. If her eyes hadn’t been swimming with tears, she would have enjoyed the view. She squeezed her eyes closed and took off her glasses so she could wipe the tears away.
Unfortunately, her mind kept returning to Andre. Asleep—or dead. Unprotected—or dead. Alone—and dead. She definitely wasn’t enjoying the view. Andre Boroi had been living just fine without her.
Existing. Not living.
She blinked. Her breath caught in her throat. She was a distance from him. He was definitely sleeping. Now was she hearing things as well as hallucinating?
Come back to me, Teagan.
Yep. There it was. The sexy, but bossy tone that grated on her nerves. She was not going to give into her strange compulsions or obey a stranger just because he was the sexiest man alive with his looks and his accent and his sweetness. Who knew sweet could be bossy? And most likely, along with all her other hallucinations, his voice in her mind was just that.
“I really am going crazy. At least my illusion is a very hot man with a sexy accent, and not some vampire who wants to suck my blood and make me into a crazed, bloodsucking monster, and have me sleep in dirt or a coffin filled with dirt,” she whispered aloud.
She needed to get back on track and find the stone that would not only cure her grandmother, but cure her as well. She had crossed the path once, thought it was in the cave, but she knew she’d taken a wrong turn.
It was entirely possible that there was something in the cave that caused hallucinations. That seemed a likely explanation, although she was out of the cave, but with every step she took away from it, she felt a terrible weight pressing down on her. Sorrow built. Andre was dead. She knew it. She had to go back. She couldn’t go on. Not without him.
Teagan found her face wet, and this time it had nothing to do with the sun. She touched her face and looked at the smear of tears on her finger. Definitely time for another illusion, like his voice. Of course it didn’t come. Illusions didn’t work that way.
She pushed herself to keep walking back to the point where she’d first felt the tuning in her body toward the stone or gem she needed. She was cautious. She did her best to stay low to keep some cover around her. She continuously scanned the mountain below her for any movement. She didn’t want a surprise visit from Armend’s friends or the wolves that had killed him.
That brought her up short. If Andre was an illusion born of something in the cave, did that mean Armend was still alive and hunting her? The thought made her shiver and she nearly turned back, but if she went back, she’d be inside the cave where the origins of the trickeries began. Was it possible that the shield had been designed to keep people out of the cave so they wouldn’t get caught in the delusions?
Worse, what if Andre wasn’t an illusion, but real, and he’d been caught in the cave and couldn’t get out? She bit hard on her lip. She just couldn’t stop thinking about him, no matter how hard she tried. The harder she pushed him away, the stronger the compulsion became to see him.
“I have to think of something else entirely or I really will lose my mind,” she muttered. She was nearly to the spot where she’d found the trail of the stone. Now, she wasn’t certain she should try to find it. The sun was beginning to dip in the sky, and she had to occupy her mind to keep it away from thoughts of Andre. Clearly, thinking about Andre was insanity.
She looked up rather than down the narrow path. The mountain range wasn’t particularly suited to bouldering and she was far from any well-known climbing crags. There was no mention of this area in the climbing circles, but the sides of the cliff jutted out in places and a few larger boulders butted up to the mountain, or were a part of it.
Once she focused on a climbing problem, the rest of the world dropped away and that was the only thing in her mind. Climbing was a form of escape to her, a place she could go and no one else could follow. Of course, she did climb with friends and they shared beta—information—with one another and encouraged one another, but for her, once she focused on a new problem, that pushed everything else out of her brain and her mind became still.
She needed her mind to be still. Right now, even with spotting a potential climb, her mind kept reaching out to Andre—trying to tune itself to his—but she found only emptiness. A void. Silence.
She tried calling to him mind to mind. Andre. I’m going a little crazy here. I’d appreciate an answer. Something. Anything from you.
It was crazy to reach out, to expect an answer, but she needed him. She needed to know he was real. The connection was so strong. That didn’t make any more sense than her grief, especially when she no longer was certain whether or not Andre was real. If he wasn’t, and she’d been hallucinating, then that meant Armend was still alive and was looking for her. If Armend was looking for her, she was nuts to be out in the open, bouldering. If he was dead, she had to tell the authorities.