Page 37 of Thrall
“Not much,” Lucy said. “I know I must have walked into the bathroom, but from my perspective, one minute I was falling asleep and the next minute Mila was holding me down. She even said Ispoketo her, but…”
The spot between Lucy’s brows throbbed. She ground a thumb against it. “I think I’m being terrible bait.”
Athena’s solemnity broke a little. Her lips twitched as she sat opposite Lucy, forgoing one of the cushions in favor of the cool floor. “I don’t know that ‘good bait’ is something you should aspire to.”
“Manageable bait, at least,” Lucy said. “How is Mila supposed to kill this thing if I’m trying to give her the slip?”
“Let’s not jump to despair just yet,” Athena said. “Last night happened, whether we wanted it to or not. Why don’t we see if we can get some information from it?”
Lucy sat up a little straighter on her cushion. “How so?”
Athena leaned back against the wall. “After my attack,” she said, “the university referred me to a counselor. It was inevitable. Even the ones who believed I was telling the truth thought I was jumping at shadows. The counselor diagnosed me with PTSD, which—is not really accurate if the traumatic event is still happening. And therapy can only help so much if you have to keep lying about what happened to you.
“But sometimes it was helpful,” she continued. “My therapist understood that I’m pragmatic, and that I like data. She taught me how to make an honest assessment of my safety in a given situation, though I’m sure her goal there was to prove to me that Iwassafe. And when there was more fear than I could manage, she taught me how to slow down and sort through it. I’d like to try that with you right now, if that’s okay.”
Lucy perked up. “Try what?”
“Nothing groundbreaking,” Athena said. “Just a bit of guided meditation. I was thinking…our friend is trying to take control away from you. He wants to disconnect you from your own instincts, your own body. Maybe we can try to reconnect you.”
Athena had begun to look uncertain, as if hearing the idea out loud made it less plausible to her. Anything was worth trying. And if nothing else, she didn’t want to be discouraging. Lucy was the first living victim of a vampire that Athena had ever met. There must have been things, all these years, that even Mila couldn’t understand.
Lucy understood the feeling. Though she didn’t quite share it. Athena knew so much more than she did in so many ways. But the only people who understood exactly what Lucy was going through were probably already dead.
“Let’s do it,” Lucy said.
Athena gathered up a few cushions to pile around Lucy: one behind her back, one under her legs, and one for her head. She motioned for Lucy to lie back, and when Lucy did, she had to admit that it was somewhat comfortable. She would have been able to fall asleep right there without much trouble—though after last night, she was still inclined to stay awake as long as she could manage.
“I should warn you,” Lucy said, closing her eyes. “My classmate hypnotized me once and nothing happened. I just pretended to be under so that she wouldn’t feel bad.”
“I’m not exactly hypnotizing you here.” She could hear Athena’s smile. “I’m just going to take you through some exercises. Don’t pressure yourself to relax. Nothing less relaxing than that.”
“Which is fucked up, by the way,” Lucy mumbled, but otherwise settled in. Jillian had taken her to yoga with her grief support group once, which had been nice enough. But this had been Lucy’s least favorite part: the end bit, savasana, when they were all lying on the floor in silence. When she stopped moving, there was nothing to do but think.
But Athena’s voice was louder and clearer than her own thoughts. She focused on that instead.
“I want you to start by counting your breaths,” Athena said. “You don’t need to count them out loud. Breathe in for seven seconds, hold your breath for two, breathe out for eleven. Try not to think. But if you have to think anything, tell yourself,This body is mine.”
It was hard to think of anythingbutthe counting at first. But after the first round, she relied on the counting much less. She had the rhythm of it, and she had to admit, that rhythm was making a difference. Every exhale felt like a ladle gently passing through the tension in her, bailing it out of her abdomen bit by bit.
Okay, she thought.This body is mine, I guess. And then, deciding to commit:This body is mine.
“Now,” Athena said. “One by one, tense up each of your muscles for about five seconds, then release them. Start with your toes and work your way up to your scalp. Take your time. Let me know when you’re done.”
Lucy did as she was told. She started with her toes, worked her way up her legs, her core, her shoulders and chest. Some of her muscles clenched and released easily. Some of them couldn’t manage much more than a confused twitch, unused to much conscious movement on Lucy’s part. They still responded to her, though, even if she couldn’t hold them for very long.
This body is mine.
This body is mine.
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, tensing her scalp, and then let everything sink a little more deeply into the cushions. It wasn’t until Athena called her name, some time later, that Lucy realized she’d been lying in silence for a while.
Right. She was supposed to let Athena know when she was done. Though she had the faint sense that if she formed words right now, the fragile thread of calm she’d managed might fray. She hummed, and hoped that was enough.
“You can let your mind wander, if you want,” said Athena’s voice, softer now. “You probably haven’t let your mind wander much lately. People aren’t built to be in fight-or-flight all the time, Lucy. This room is safe. I’ve made sure of that. When you’re here, you can let go.”
Lucy exhaled again, and tried to trust that they really were alone. She only felt two sets of eyes on her here: Athena’s, and Natalie’s. But the more she relaxed, the more that the constant awareness that had been with her since the bite started to blur.
There were no windows here, but she could feel humidity’s late-summer curtain fall over her, stronger than the air-conditioning vents. It didn’t feel as if she was inside, there in that hazy in-between. It felt as if she were sprawled across roots and hard-packed dirt.
