Dark Heirloom (An Ema Marx Novel Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

coloring my cheeks. “Could you please tell me where I am?”
    From under my eyelashes, I watched him wet his lips and furrow his brow. His concern stirred my nerves. “I think we should begin with what happened.”
    I glanced up. “Is it bad?”
    He hesitated. “You have been unconscious for two days.”
    “I what?” Two days? Holy cow. That meant it was already Monday . I pressed a hand to my temples. “How could this have happened?”
    “You do not remember?”
    I glanced at him. He had taken a step closer. I shook my head while trying to think. I remembered Mom, our argument, the train ride home. “I was walking home from the train station. I… I didn’t make it, did I?”
    His gaze flickered to the side. “Do you remember your name?”
    I nodded. “Yeah. My name’s Ema Marx.” Something snapped in my mind. The utterance of my name unlocked a floodgate of vivid memories haunted by the man who had tried to kill me. “Oh my God. I was attacked.”
    “You lost a lot of blood.”
    “My leg!” I flung the covers off. A white cotton nightgown dressed my body. My legs were bare; no cast, no bandages, no stitches, not even a bruise. I wiggled my toes in disbelief. My legs looked pale, but other than that, they were perfectly fine. “I… could have sworn my leg was broken.”
    The bluish man cleared his throat. “It was.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “It was broken.”
    I gave him a sidelong glance. “It healed in two days?”
    A grin teased the left corner of his mouth. “Not exactly. It healed within the first day.”
    I narrowed my eyes. Was that supposed to be a joke? I noticed how closely he resembled my attacker. Anger heated my blood. My jaw clenched, and I spoke through my teeth. “This isn’t a hospital, is it?”
    He glanced at the floor and licked his lips. He inhaled and parted his mouth as if to speak, but then he faced the door. I was about to demand an answer when the air in the room thickened. A peculiar scent, like nitrogen after a lightning storm, assaulted my nasal cavity. The door began to smoke, as if it were on fire. The smoke gathered into a thick cloud, and a woman in a knit tunic top and floor-length, gathered skirt materialized before my eyes.
    I snatched the blanket and pulled it over me, lifting the hem to my nose like a child hiding from a nightmare.
    “What the heck just happened?” I blurted out as my instincts flared. A tiny voice in the back of my head told me to stop cowering and stand ready for battle.
    I’ve clearly lost my mind.
    The man spoke hushed, foreign words to the woman in a tone that sounded like a sigh. She dismissed him with a wave of her pale hand and approached me. Thin creases wrinkled the corners of her eyes and lips as she smiled.
    “Forgive me if I’ve frightened you, darling, I didn’t think you’d wake just yet. How are you feeling, are you in any pain?”
    Unlike the man’s smooth voice, a Greek accent thickened the woman’s speech. Pointed teeth showed when she grinned. I hesitated, afraid of answering someone who could be my attacker’s mother. The only difference between them was her eyes. Black like dark pits, they lured me in, prompting a response. I slowly shook my head in reply. I wasn’t in pain. I didn’t feel much of anything, physically. Maybe they gave me a sedative. Morphine would explain some of this.
    “What’s your name?” I asked hesitantly.
    The woman’s smile broadened, exposing more of her sharp teeth. She bent her knees in a slight dip. “Maria, at your service.”
    I tilted my chin in the direction of the pale-blue man. “And yours?”
    He licked his lips before returning my gaze. “I am called Jesu.” He pronounced the soft J as a Y -sound; Yes-oo.
    “Nice to meet you.”
    “It is nicer to meet you,” he whispered.
    “You look well,” Maria interjected, beaming. “Why don’t you stand up?”
    She held out a pale hand to help steady me. Cautiously, I took it and slid off the edge of the bed, being careful