Chapter Sixty-Four

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"Okay, that's not creepy at all." I groaned and covered my head with my pillow. After two hours of uninterrupted sleep, I woke to find Calin watching me. It was unnerving yet pleasant, my body tingling in betrayal of my head.

"You talk in your sleep." He smiled and hopped up onto the bed. "Just when you're close to waking up, you start talking. Who's Zach?"

I pulled the blankets up over the pillow and mumbled, "Hesmymothersmentorwhodiedwithher."

"What?" He pulled the pillow and blanket off the bed. "Who's Zach?"

"Why?"

"You were talking about him, and from what I heard, I'm guessing that you don't like the guy."

"He was my mother's mentor." I shrugged, fingering the threads of the sheet. "He was with her when she died. They, uh, both died. And my mom's dog. Zach and I never got along."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I lifted the corner of my mouth and looked at him from below lowered lashes. "If I heard you talking about a guy named Zach in your sleep, I'd probably ask the same thing."

"I don't dream about other men."

"You think you're a man?" I dodged his arm as he tried to swat at me.

"Feeling better?"

I nodded. The medicine and a good sleep had cured me of the impulse to hurl. According to the package, though, I'd have to continue to take the pills at regular intervals if I wanted to continue to feel alright.

"Are you hungry?"

I thought for a moment and shook my head. "I'm not that cured yet, but why don't you go grab something for yourself? I'm not going anywhere."

"You're sure? Would you like a drink or something at least?"

"Tea?" I perked up. "If they have it."

He left with the promise to return soon. I looked around the room and smiled to myself. Aside from being comfortable, yachts were not designed to deprive a person of the delights in life and supplied the finer things in the extreme—expensive, shiny, and unnecessary. A single chair could outspend my room—and its contents—in Briarville. Not so much the Manor, but then that would never be my home, and its furniture rivaled if not surpassed the ridiculous yachts show-boating appearance. It was disgusting to see how much people were willing to blow money on nothing at all.

I stood and wandered over to the bathroom, my stomach rolling with the motion. Damned boat. Ugh, where were those pills? All the open surfaces in the room were stark, devoid of what my body craved. Too long preoccupied in my search, I found myself lurching into the bathroom, sweaty and hot, and one motion away from throwing up.

Staying on my feet to dig through the medicine cabinet was a struggle. I had no time to look any more in the bedroom. When Calin returned, he'd know where the medicine had gone, but I needed something now. Since boats made people sick, it must be stocked in every bathroom as a courtesy to its guests. Eventually, and right before I was forced to abandon my task, my hand curled around an identical package to what Calin had given me earlier.

Unable to summon the energy to run the tap for water, I slid to the floor, box in hand. I'd solved my first problem only to be challenged with another. I couldn't take them without water, I knew. I never could. When I was a kid, my mom had to crush my medicine up so that I wouldn't know that I was taking it. It had gotten better as I'd gotten older, but my gag reflex was still firmly intact when it came to anything but food. Even then, texture was an issue.

I crawled on all fours until the cool porcelain of the toilet was within reach of my burning skin.

Calin would be back soon and I'd be able to take the medicine.

Ten minutes later, he still hadn't returned, and I'd given into my nausea—twice. I lay down with my cheek against the floor and moaned. I couldn't close my eyes without feeling the rhythm of the rocking boat. The room spun. I still felt like puking, but nothing was left. Each attempt to relieve myself of the tension sent my body into painful spasms without relief, my eyes spilling over with tears of exertion.

If I couldn't make it to the water, I'd have to bring the water to me.

It was a last resort. I didn't even know if it would work, but I needed to feel better and couldn't swallow the pills without something to help them down.

With my eyes closed, I breathed through the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm me until I could think clearly again.

It was manageable so long as I didn't move. Or breathe.

Remembering to mask my efforts, I visualized a cape blanketing a cool river of water as vibrant as the stream near my clearing in Briarville. It was as though the cloak was cradling it within its folds, the water held in its nonexistent hands, an invisible bowl for me to sip at leisure. It filled me with the vitality of its purity. The fresh-sounding release of running water as it tumbled over the rocks polished by the seasons brought a whimsical feeling to my heart.

When I opened my eyes, I realized it had all been in my head. I hadn't done anything to help my situation. The tap wasn't running, and nothing had slid down my burning throat. I groaned. Why the hell wasn't Calin back? The least he could have done was send someone—Maible, for instance—to check on me.

He thinks that I am feeling better.

I slumped back to the floor, defeated, and then noticed something out of the corner of my eye. It was small, barely recognizable, but it was there. Right beside me, and level with my line of vision, was a flickering twinkle of air catching a spark of light. I turned my head fully in its direction and smiled in disbelief. I'd done it. I'd used what my mom had taught me and successfully done what I wanted—on the first try! Not for fun or to show off, but because I needed it. I'd cleared my head and ignored extenuating circumstances to visualize something tangible.

I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the water, afraid of doing something to make it disappear. The edges were clear, appearing as though it were floating, yet solid beneath my fingers. Just like I'd imagined.

Quickly, before the illusion dissolved, I popped the medication into my mouth and gulped the water, smacking my lips with satisfaction after the last drop had dissipated upon my tongue. My throat, raw from heaving, was cooled to a tender throb as the water soothed its burn. I lay down, closed my eyes, and waited for it to take effect.

It shouldn't be long, I thought. Someone once told me that you can safely double-dose anything, and right now, I needed to feel better. Fast. Besides, hadn't Mr. Corbin said the medication was harmless? No. Duvessa had said that. Whatever. If it allowed me to stop puking and get back into bed, I didn't care.

The medication worked fast, and I passed out, falling into a numbing void of bliss. I don't know how long I slept for, but the moment I opened my eyes again, I took another dose of the medication, just in case. I didn't want to be attached to the toilet any longer.

I started crawling out of the bathroom, though going forwards or backwards caused my stomach to lurch, and I was forced to crawl sideways. Where the hell was Calin? He and Duvessa may have broken up, but he'd forgotten to return the insincerity she'd loaned to him.

He'd left me here. I'd been willing to let go of my first impressions based on his relationship with her because they were broken up. I ignored the condoms, though I'd thought it vulgar and without tact. But if this was how he wanted to begin to get to know each other, it wasn't worth it.

Unbound (Unbound, Book 1) ~Formerly Casting Power~Where stories live. Discover now