“You were speaking in your sleep.” “What?” That jerked my traitorous eyes back to his. Casteel nodded. “You were saying something that reminded me of a…disturbing nursery rhyme, to be honest. Something about a pretty flower.” The moment those words left his mouth, the nightmare came back in a rush of startling clarity. “What a pretty poppy. Pick it and watch it bleed,” I murmured. “Not so pretty any longer.” “Yes. That.” An eyebrow rose. “And it’s as disturbing as it was the first time around.”
