Face of Fury (Zoe Prime #5) - Blake Pierce Page 0,3

and around herself in wonder. The stars and planets had burst into light overhead, swirling around until they settled into their places for the beginning of the presentation. She had seen it a hundred times, had even taken part in checking the accuracy of the new astral maps a few years ago when it was updated, but it was something new to be standing right in the middle of it like this. Feeling that you could almost reach out and touch the stars…

But who had turned the projector on? All of her colleagues had gone home, and it wasn’t supposed to be on at this time of night. Orchestral music was beginning to blare, so loud it drowned out everything else. Elara frowned and began to turn, thinking that she would investigate the projection room—

But she was on her knees, staring at the floor. How had she gotten here? Just a minute ago, she had been—but there was a pain in the back of her head—a clattering impact she remembered, louder even than the music—and she found that her legs wouldn’t lift her, and neither would her arms, and everything was throbbing—

There was something else now, something at the back of her neck—another pain—a hand, gripping her tightly, with no thought for the delicate skin. Elara dimly tried to struggle free, wanting the pain to stop, but the hand gripped her more tightly, the ache coming to her from some distant place far away. Like another planet, maybe, shrouded by distance and the light from other stars. She was moving—being moved, by the back of her neck—being taken somewhere, her legs dragging helplessly on the ground.

Elara fought to get her feet under her, to stop them from skidding and bouncing on the smooth floor, but nothing seemed to be working properly, and the music was so loud and the lights were so bright, and something hot was falling down her forehead and getting in her eye. She found herself looking down into something round, metal, the light bouncing and reflecting off something glinting and moving inside—off water—and then—

The cold water was a shock to her system, making her gasp out loud, the one action she had managed to fulfill with clarity since the projector turned on. It was unfortunate that it was also the one action that, in this case, was inappropriate: she inhaled only water, not air, feeling it rush into her mouth and down her throat with a panic that overcame the confusion and pain in her head. She only knew that she had to get out, to get away, to haul herself back to the surface and the air again.

Elara struggled, latching her hands onto the sides of the metal bucket, feeling it move under her in a sickening lurch, but somehow she went with it. There was something over her shoulders, pressing down on her, stopping her from raising her head up out of the water. She felt her vision darkening, black spots appearing in front of her eyes, dancing along with the flecks of light that reached down into the water, playing off the bubbles all around her as she thrashed desperately to raise her head.

Elara tried with one last effort to simply fall backward, to tip the bucket and the water away, but her throat was convulsing and her vision failing, and she knew she had nothing left. A painful contraction in her chest forced her to try to suck in one last breath, but she found none, and then there was a blackness so absolute that there was nothing—not even the glimmers of stars millions of light years away, dying in another galaxy, perhaps already dead.

CHAPTER THREE

Zoe had to pause twice as she crossed the kitchen to hold her head in her hands and groan. Rehydration was what was required. But turning toward the front of the room, and the windows, she immediately regretted it. She had never closed any of her curtains last night, and now the late morning sun was streaming in through the glass, dousing her room with a bright glare that sent pain ricocheting through her skull.

The hangover was just insult to injury. She had consumed around fifty-six grams of alcohol last night, which meant that her body should have been able to break down the alcohol within seven hours. The only thing was that she had gone to bed late last night, still wearing her shoes, and there was a definite possibility that she had drunk more units