Perfect Specimen: Brietta by Kate Donovan Page B

father’s project. “Did he know about the cave? You should have told me this right away.”
    She was staring at him, clearly horrified, and he realized how he must have sounded. So he asked belatedly, “Did he hurt you, Brie?”
    She rubbed her eyes, then explained softly, “He wasn’t real. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He was like the snakes. All in my head.”
    “How can you be sure?”
    “I’m sure. I wish I wasn’t.” Her tone cooled. “But at least your precious cave is safe, right?”
    Frustrated, he reached for her, but she backed away, assuring him, “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it. I’m just tired.”
    He nodded. “Believe it or not, I want to be here for you. So just keep talking. Don’t shut down.”
    She hesitated, then said simply, “It’s some kind of tumor, I think.”
    “What?”
    “I might need to go home.” She clamped her hand over her mouth, but not before he saw her bottom lip start to quiver. Then she held up her free hand, as though warding him off. “I have to get some sleep, Tagg. I’m so tired I can’t think straight.”
    Ignoring the warning, he pulled her into a bear hug. “Give the new antibiotic a chance. You’re messed up, and yeah, it’s weird that you’re seeing things. But you have a history of sinus infections, right? This one just got way out of control. Maybe it even formed some sort of abscess or something, which is scary. But not tumor scary.”
    She clung to him for a few moments, then insisted, “I hope you’re right.”
    “We’ll both go to bed. Together—”
    “No, not tonight. I need to be alone. I need—I need—”
    When she raised her eyes to his, the misery in them was palpable, and he nodded quickly. “Go ahead, then. I’ll be right here if you need me. And, Brie?”
    “Yes?”
    “It’s gonna be fine. More than fine. I promise you that.”
    To his surprise, the well-intentioned words seemed to be the last straw for her, and while she didn’t actually burst into tears, she ran out of the tent so fast he knew she was sobbing inside.
    As much as he wanted to rush after her, he knew she needed something different from his usual bulldozing.
    “Give her some space. And time for the antibiotic to do its job,” he told himself with shaky determination. “In the morning if she’s still this bad . . . ”
    He didn’t want to finish that thought, not that it mattered. She had called it herself, hadn’t she?
    Brietta Ryerson needed to go home.
     
    * * * *
     
    Stumbling to her tent, Brietta cursed herself for falling apart in front of him the way she had. It wasn’t fair to the poor guy, who was clearly trying to help.
    Except he can’t get past his obsession with the cave , she reminded herself, still hurt by how he had reacted to news of the strange guy outside the cave.
    “How was he supposed to react?” she demanded aloud. “Just stay away from him. This is crazy, and he doesn’t handle crazy well. Who does, for crap’s sake?”
    All she wanted was some sleep, but she knew it would never happen. For one thing, her eye sockets were literally pulsating, and even when she stretched out on her cot with a blanket over her face, she couldn’t shut out the pain.
    The pain or the images. Vipers, whips, the lizardy man—
    “You bastard,” she whispered, half hoping he could hear her. “You threaten my clan ? What the hell does that mean? Taggert, sure. But what have Melody and Vince ever done to you? Or Hannan, for that matter?”
    She knew she was delirious again, but didn’t care. She needed to work through this, because in her gut she knew she was missing something. Some pivotal fact. It was staring her in the face—she was sure of it—but her face was too battered to recognize it.
    If only Taggert could be objective. She could lay it all out for him—that first staggering headache; the spine-wrenching pain when her shovel had hit that rock; the vipers; the threats; the silent witnesses.
    And the