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A Fever In The Blood by A Fever In The Blood


A Fever In The Blood by A Fever In The Blood

Author:A Fever In The Blood [Blood, A Fever In The]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER EIGHT

CASS was dreaming, and in the dream she was swim ming through layers of glittering

blue water. She felt insubstantial, weightless, at one with the sea creatures who were

swimming about her. The sunlight, streaming through the water above her, illuminated

a magical world of waving fronds and rainbow-coloured fish, none of whom seemed to

care that she was swimming beside them. They ignored her, carrying on about their

business, with a total lack of curiosity. For her part, she could feel a distinct restriction

in her nose, and her eyes felt vaguely sore. Her throat, too, felt most uncomfortable, and

she guessed it was due to the choking lump of rubber she was holding between her

teeth.

And then she realised what was happening. She was snorkelling. It was the mask she

was wearing that was restricting her nose, and the rubber mouthpiece of the breathing

tube was drying her throat. With a sudden twist of her body, she used the black flippers

on her feet to propel herself towards the surface. But, as she strug gled to break free from

some constriction that was hold ing her down, the cool morning air, drifting in through

her windows, brought a feathering of goose-flesh to her body. And, when she opened

her eyes to the awareness that she was not snorkelling at all, but dreaming the whole

thing, she discovered she had kicked off the single sheet, which had been all that was

covering her.

It was a strangely disappointing discovery. For a few minutes, she had been totally

convinced she was snor kelling, and although it hadn't always been an enjoyable

experience it had been exciting. But she hadn't done any snorkelling since she was

eighteen years old. Ben had taught her how to snorkel, and because of that, and the

associations it provoked, she had always refused to par ticipate whenever anyone else

had invited her to try it. It had reminded her too strongly of that day at Calvado, and,

although if she had tried it again it might have helped her to expunge the memories, she

had never put it to the test.

She sighed now and, reaching for her watch, she looked at the time. It was barely

six-thirty, far too early to get up, and yet she instinctively knew she would not go back to

sleep again. The vividness of her dream had destroyed any hopes she might have had of

drifting off again. Instead, all the haunting memories of that summer came flooding

over her, and for once she didn't try to stem their flow…

At eighteen, Cass was tall and reasonably slim, and she wore her long pale hair in a

single chunky braid. She was still a little shy, except with people she knew well, and

although she attracted male eyes she had so far shown little interest in the opposite sex.

She had been introduced to several eligible young men—Roger Fielding among

them—whom her father considered suit able escorts, but her interest in them was

negligible. She much preferred books and music to personal relation ships, and, if her

parents were disappointed at her lack of enthusiasm, they had only themselves to

blame. For years, except when



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