Chapter Three
Why, oh why, wouldn’t the pounding in my head cease? The inside of my mouth felt like sandpaper, and my eyes weren’t doing much better—I’d been trying to pry them open unsuccessfully for several minutes. When they did finally crack open, I blinked in surprise. I was in a plain but clean room that held a wardrobe, a washstand, a dresser, and a full-length mirror. A single chair and bedside table were near my small bed, and I was covered with a lovely, handmade blue-and-white granny-square quilt.
I found myself dressed in a clean, white-cotton nightgown, and my neck and arm were bandaged. My lip felt busted, and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to see how I looked. I groaned out loud as the memories of my attack came back to me. Closing my eyes tightly, I tried to staunch the flow of events that came rushing back like an unwelcome storm. Had I really been cursed, traveled through time, and been attacked by a vampire? If my injuries were any indication, then yes, it was all very real.
I blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. I couldn’t have a breakdown just yet—I didn’t even know where I was.
What am I going to do? Can I ever get back to my own time? Is it even possible?
The door creaked open, and I hastily wiped my eyes. A young woman in a crisp white shirt and long blue skirt came in carrying a tray. Her shoes squeaked on the well-polished, wooden floor, and the contents of the tray she carried rattled precariously.
“Ah, you're finally awake.” She settled a hand over her heart. “You had us just about worried to death, showing up here all bloodied and then sleeping close to two days straight,” she said as she set the tray on the bedside table.
“Two full days?” I gasped. “It’s been that long?”
“It has. And poor Travis has been worrying himself sick, wondering if you’d be all right.” She wrinkled her nose—which was set on a lovely face sprinkled lightly with freckles—as if she’d smelled something rotten. Her hair was light brown and piled high on her head in a loose bun. She may have seemed a little mousy at first glance, but her intelligent gray eyes made her very lovely indeed.
“Travis? Who’s Travis, and exactly where am I?”
The woman poured a cup of tea as she answered me. “Travis is an instructor at the home, and he’s the one who carried you all the way here after you were attacked. As to the where we are; well, you are now an unofficial resident of Howell Home.” She smiled brightly in my direction like it was the best news she had shared with anyone in long while.
Okay, so Travis was the green-eyed mystery man. Oh God, I hope I didn’t call him beautiful out loud when I was semi-conscious. And what the heck was Howell Home?
“Sugar or milk in your tea?” my new companion asked.
“Just sugar, please.”
Although, I’d have preferred a nice, strong latté right about then. Screw that, a bottle of Jack.
“And you are?” I asked her.
“Oh. My name’s Phoebe.” She smiled shyly and held the cup of tea out to me.
“Nice to meet you. My name’s Sage. Sage Hannigan,” I told her as I took the delicate teacup.
“Very pleased to meet you, Miss Hannigan. I’m going to go and fetch you something to eat and let Mrs. Howell know you’re finally awake. I’m sure she has a good many questions for you."
I’m sure she does, I thought. My stomach knotted in apprehension.