Crazy in the Blood (Latter-Day Olympians) Read Online Free PDF

shaking.”
    “I’m cold,” I lied.
    “It’s got to be ninety degrees out here.”
    I shrugged. “Maybe I’m coming down with something.”
    He studied me like a crime scene photo.
    “You gonna give me a visual diagnosis?” I asked.  
    His lips twitched into one of his rare grins and my heart did a somersault. “Well, I’d be glad to play doctor, if you think it would help.”
    I looked around us. “Where?”
    He did the same. “You’re right. Maybe we’d better clean out this unit first.”
    “Whatever the doctor orders.”
    I waved a hand, indicating that he should precede me into the cluttered unit. Truthfully, I wasn’t feeling too well, and I didn’t want him to see my moment of weakness, where I closed my eyes and struggled to summon up the strength to go on. When the idea of playing doctor with Armani put me in mind of a cold compress and a nice nap rather than a steamy roll in the hay, I knew I was in trouble—and not the kind I usually chased.
     
    Two hours, many boxes and a sneezing fit later, I came upon a box of old statements. I had enough energy left to pull them down off a stack that consisted of a dining room table, overturned chairs, a table lamp and an old computer monitor before I collapsed to the ground, taking them with me. Armani quickly tossed the tackle box he’d been examining back onto some industrial shelving and rushed to my side. “Tori!”
    It seemed too much effort to tell him I was okay, and anyway, I didn’t think he’d believe me. Something poked my thigh. Something else jabbed into my back, but it didn’t stop me from wanting to lie down and sleep. Or die, as pain blossomed in my stomach—a small thing at first, just a bud, but then it bloomed into a whole freakin’ mushroom cloud. I knew I’d blown my analogy. I didn’t care.
    I must have made a noise or curled in on myself, because Armani’s hands were suddenly everywhere, searing and painfully hot.
    “Sweetheart, you all right? When was the last time you ate?”
    “Dunno,” I mumbled. I think I did anyway. I know I thought it.
    Then the world tilted on its axis and my stomach nearly heaved up whatever it had left. It took me a long moment to realize Armani had picked me up and was carrying me away. I closed my eyes to blot out the sensation of movement, but it didn’t fool my gut. At least I finally had someplace to lay my head—right on Armani’s extremely nice chest. It seemed like only a second before I was getting dumped. The world went suddenly purple-gray and when my vision cleared, I was sitting in the passenger seat of my car. Armani was nowhere to be seen. A second later he reappeared—having gone to close the storage unit? I didn’t know, didn’t care.
    All I wanted was—
    — ambrosia —
    Oblivion.
    Another burst of pain rippled through my abdomen. I wasn’t going to survive this.
    Nick got behind the wheel. “Hospital?” he asked.
    “Home,” I managed.
    He stared at me, assessing. I could tell even with my eyes squinched against the pain.
    “Food poisoning,” I bit out, knowing he’d need something more than that.
    I’d had food poisoning before. Wanted to die then too. It gave me hope for the future. Plus, I knew from experience there was nothing to be done but let it pass. Armani would know that too.
    Nick, dammit.  
    Not important now.
    A blink and we were elsewhere. Stopped. Parked. I wished I were up to taking advantage. Nick pulled me out of the car and tight to his body, which felt like a raging inferno. My skin crackled and peeled away. I could feel it. My brains were liquefying. I worried how Armani would explain brain matter all over his clothes. I hoped IA didn’t notice.
    On some level I knew I was incoherent. On another it all made a sick sense.
    Armani had my keys. Somewhere along the line he must have frisked me and I’d been too far gone to notice. He let my legs down to have a hand free for the door, but held the rest of me tightly to him as I would have