Part 41 (2/2)

Annja s.h.i.+fted again. Her stomach gurgled a bit and she wondered if she'd maybe had too much to eat. Annja didn't normally stuff herself, preferring to equate food with gasoline. You don't overfill the tank, but keep enough in there to keep the car running in top condition.

Still...

It wasn't the food. Annja found herself sinking in toward her subconscious. Wave after wave of drowsiness washed over her and she briefly worried that the food might have been drugged.

But no. Annja had been drugged before and this felt nothing like it. This was her body telling her that it needed to relax.

No sense fighting it, she supposed. She took a deep breath and exhaled, willing herself to let go of her hold on staying awake, to give in to the temptation to drift off to sleep.

And then she felt herself jerked back up toward her waking self.

Little sounds dripped and dribbled down to her subconscious, slipping into places where her logical mind could process them.

The result disturbed her.

Someone was coming into her room.

Annja felt herself moving toward being fully awake. Part of her resisted. She was so tired. And yet the adrenaline that had started coursing through her system fought off that sluggishness and forced her awareness back to peak.

Whoever was coming in would have needed a key. Jenny didn't have a key. And that pretty much meant that this person would have to be considered a threat,

She could hear it now.

Coming closer.

Annja steeled herself. In a second, she'd toss the covers and confront the person. Get them to talk.

But then she heard a familiar voice.

”Annja?”

Annja opened her eyes.

Sheila stared back at her.

”We need to talk.”

Chapter 22.

Annja sat up in bed with the covers wrapped around her. ”Why couldn't you just tell me downstairs when we were eating?”

Sheila glanced around. ”I never know who's listening. And it's better up here, anyway. No one can see me talking to you.”

Annja frowned. Beams of sunlight cut through the drapes in front of the window, giving the room a much brighter look than Sheila's demeanor. ”You're talking like someone doesn't want us to know what's going on here.”

”Someone doesn't,” Sheila said. ”You're absolutely right.”

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