Chapter 30: French Accent Yumminess

"Danielle," a deep, masculine French voice tickles the back of my mind. "Come to me, Daniella."

My mouth is dry and tastes like dried paste. I ache all over. My body shivering.

"Mon Dieu! Hurry, Daniella, there isn't much time." The voice comes again.

Confusion fogs my brain, I try to answer that I'm not this Daniella or know who this guy is talking to, when teeth crunch down on my wrist.

"Summon me, Daniella, call me to you!"

But I can't speak. I can't think. I can't do anything except gather myself into a ball as the agonizing pain rips through me.

I roll away from the gnashing teeth. Trying to find safety. Trying to find an escape.

It's pitch black except for a grey light that's pulsing a few feet away.

If I can make it to the leyline. I'll be safe. It'll all be over.