Grayson's eyes cracked open to unfamiliar ceiling patterns dancing in the morning light. His mind felt wrapped in cotton, thoughts sluggish and disjointed as he tried to piece together when he had gone to bed.
The last clear memory he had was... what?
The edges blurred no matter how hard he concentrated.
He lifted his arm, and the holographic display from his light brain flickered to life above his wrist. The date glowed in crisp blue numbers that made his stomach drop.
Seven days.
It's been seven days?
Grayson sat up slowly, running a hand through his disheveled black hair. His body didn't ache. No headache throbbed behind his temples. If anything, he felt oddly refreshed, like he had been sleeping for weeks.
What the hell happened?
A chime echoed through his penthouse, the security system announcing a visitor downstairs.
