Still, there had to be a reason for the strange symbols she’d found scratched into the kitchen cupboard and the master bedroom closet…not to mention the huge, glowing one that had appeared to her briefly as she stood there and stared at it in astonishment.
And although she didn’t have any idea where she was, at the very least, she could try to communicate that she was still alive, although trapped someplace very strange. Caleb had always made it sound as if he didn’t know as much about the supernatural and the world of demons as he probably should, considering his heritage, but still, he might very well have a better idea of what this strange void was than she did.
Also, she had to believe he must have come in search of her. She’d agreed to regularly check in, and although she had no idea how much time had passed since she was abducted from the parking lot at Heritage Park, she still knew Caleb wouldn’t have waited too long before he set out to discover what had happened to her.
What she needed to do now was visualize him and send all her thoughts to the person she saw in her mind. While she’d never been very good at meditating, she knew she excelled at creating pictures in her head, something that came in very handy when walking into a space in a house and seeing how it might be updated or renovated.
So…Caleb Lockwood. Dark blond hair that was always a little bit messy and overgrown, although she guessed he paid a lot for cuts that would allow it to look like that. Dark, strong brows and equally dark eyes, with lashes to match. Those cola-brown eyes were usually dancing with mischief, just as his mouth was almost always curved in one corner, as though a smile was just waiting to break out.
Well, maybe she shouldn’t be thinking about his mouth. She needed to focus now, and not be distracted by what it might feel like to have those lips pressed against hers.
Now, though, she had a clear image in her mind, and she held it there as best she could, even as she focused every ounce of purpose and need and strength into a single thought.
Caleb, I need you to hear me.
He was just in the middle of trying on a pair of Levi’s — more for form’s sake than anything else, since he’d worn the same size of 501s for years — when he heard Delia’s voice.
Caleb.
Bewildered, he paused with one leg in the 501s as he looked all around him.
Crazy, right? Like Delia Dunne would be hanging out in the men’s dressing room of a Kohl’s in Bullhead City.
That voice had been so clear, however, that he couldn’t quite shake the feeling she was somewhere close.
“Delia?” he ventured.
“Did you say something?” came Ty’s voice from a couple of dressing room stalls down.
“No,” Caleb said quickly.
Maybe Ty believed him, and maybe he didn’t. The important thing was that he didn’t say anything else, and apparently returned to trying on his own set of clothes.
Time to go at this in a different way.
Delia? he thought. Doing so felt foolish, even though he knew she was psychic and that reaching out mentally was just as valid a way of communicating with her as any other.
Also, he so very badly needed to believe she was okay.
I’m here.
That mental voice sounded exactly like her, the pitch just a little low, smooth and friendly, the sort of voice he could see some early morning radio shock jock having as his female sidekick.
Where is “here”?
I don’t know. It’s dark. I’m sitting on something that feels like a bed, but I can’t see anything, and I can’t move.
Can’t move? he thought back, his mental voice sharpening. Are you tied up?
No, no. Just that I can’t leave this bed or chaise or whatever it is. And I’m not hungry or thirsty, even though I should be.
He had to admit that sounded weird. However, at least she wasn’t bound, although her description of her current prison didn’t exactly reassure him.
Do you know what happened?
Although he couldn’t see her, he got the impression that she shook her head.
I can’t remember anything, Caleb. One moment I was in the park, and the next I was here.
