Chapter One
I fall into bed, grateful when the soft mattress cradles my body. With one hand I fumble for the sheets and just manage to pull a corner over me before giving up and rolling onto my back. The ceiling is spinning drunkenly, and I close my eyes, kicking out my feet fretfully. Alcohol sloshes through my veins, and I can hear a croaking noise. I realise it’s me singing just as the bathroom door opens and Adrian appears. He’s naked, and quite oddly, there appears to be three of him.
“Someone’s eager,” he says.
I peer at him, squinting as the room dips around me. “Which one of you is the real Adrian?” I slur, pointing at where I think his face is. I have a feeling that I’m pointing at thin air, so I let my hand drop. It falls to the sheets as if weighted down. I blink a few times.
“Cary, wake up.” Adrian sounds very pissed off, and I try to open my eyes, but the blinks gets longer and longer until the dark claims me.
The stone steps beneath my bare feet are wet and slimy, and brambles stretch their branches overhead, blocking out my view of the sky so I’m encased in a green darkness. There’s a strange roaring sound ahead of me, and the air smells dank and salty.
The roaring noise abruptly stops, making my ears ring in the sudden silence, and then I stiffen as the soft pad of footsteps sounds behind me. I stop in my tracks, and the footsteps stop too. I hold my breath, trying to listen, and a shiver runs down my spine. Someone’s breathing in the darkness.
“Who’s there?” I demand, the thread of fear in my voice unmistakable.
No one answers, and still the soft breathing continues. I try to look back, but I can’t. Something won’t let me. Instead, I’m forced to stare forward, my eyes straining in the murky light.
Then there comes a low chuckle. It’s a cold sound full of dark amusement, and it abruptly breaks my stasis. I take another step down and then another, moving fast now as the footsteps start up again behind me. My feet slip on the slimy, damp steps, and I throw out my hands, grabbing onto the stair rail to stop my fall. It’s covered in a wet moss, and I cry out in disgust as the moss suddenly moves, its soft tendrils trailing over my skin in a cold caress. It’salive.
“Shit,” I choke out and snatch my hand away. I pick up my speed, but still the footsteps draw closer. It sounds like whoever is following me is only a few feet away now, and I leap down the steps, some primal urge telling me to move faster.
The last step takes me by surprise, and I stumble as I land on sand, pain shooting through my legs. This time I succeed when I try to look back. Behind me, a set of stone steps rises upwards and curves out of sight. I blink. They’re quiet and still. There’s no sign of my invisible pursuer and no bramble bushes over the stairs. Instead, above me is a sky so full of stars it’s like someone took handfuls of glitter and threw it everywhere. A giant full moon hangs so low it almost looks like I could touch it, and it infuses everything with an otherworldly glow.
I wait a few seconds, but when no one appears, I turn to see where I am.
I’m standing in a small cove, and it’s the prettiest place I’ve ever seen. The sand is as soft as sugar, and the sea sparkles as if it’s trapped moonbeams amongst its waves. Huge waves roll in, breaking on the beach and rocks with a deep, percussive boom and sending up spumes of water that glitter in the moonlight. Clumps of seaweed lie everywhere as if they’ve been flung from the sea, and they send up their sharp, briny scent as I move forward. I pick up my pace, suddenly desperate to be near the water.
A soft voice speaks from behind me. “There’s a sea mist moving in. You should take care.”
I jump, my heart lurching in my chest, but when I try to look back and answer the stranger, my body betrays me again, and I continue to move forward like a puppet on a string.
“Sorry,” I call back. “Thank you for the warning.”
“You must see what’s in front of you,” the voice insists, but its owner doesn’t seem to follow me.
I move onwards, drawn to the moonlit water. The wind is fresh and clean, blowing my hair back and waking up my senses. A bewildering wave of happiness washes over me. As if my whole life has been leading to this place, and now I’m finally here.
A string of seaweed catches my foot, and I crouch to release myself. When I look up, I blink at the sight before me. A mist is rolling in from the sea, glowing in the moonlight and moving with a startling speed like a tidal wave approaching the shore. It billows out when it reaches the sand, and everything around me goes dark as the fog blocks the night sky. Yet even in the darkness, the mist sparkles as if it’s caught the starlight and is holding it safe in its folds.
I can’t even hear the sea anymore—just a cold silence. The mist brushes against my skin with ice-cold fingers, leaving my skin damp and pebbled with goosebumps. The air is filled with a salty, cold smell. I am completely alone in the fog.
“Hello?” I call, unable to bear the isolation for another second. My hoarse voice sounds strange to me. “Hello?”
The mist coils around me. “Come to me,” someone beckons in a deep voice. There’s a husky catch to it and a trace of an intriguing accent.
“S-Sorry.” I stammer. “Who’s there?”
The mist suddenly quivers and parts around me, and I catch a scent in the air. It’s delicious, like amber and sandalwood—warm and so addictive that I want to inhale deep gusts of it.
“Come to me,elskling.”
I sit bolt upright in bed, gasping and looking around. The beach is gone, and I’m back in my hotel bedroom. My coat is slung over the chair where I threw it last night, and Adrian’s shoes are set neatly under the dressing table.
“It was a dream,” I whisper and lie back against the pillows, taking in deep gulps of air. “Just a dream.”
I hear a flash of that deep, husky voice and wonder at the suddenly sharp feeling of loss. Too many Baileys last night, I decide.
I grab my phone and typeelsklinginto the search engine. It’s Norwegian for sweetheart. Where the hell did I conjurethatfrom? I don’t even speak Norwegian. Then I remember the Scandinavian crime series I was addicted to a few months ago. I probably heard a character use the endearment right before murdering the object of their affection in a disgusting manner that invariably involved a sauna or the snow.
