8
Iopen my mouth to question her, but no words come out. She stands, bringing her hand up to my forehead. She touches me right between the eyes, and everything goes black. I wake with a start again, gasping loud enough to wake Jac.
Only, he’s not next to me.
I throw the covers back and get out of bed. Everything is hazy, and it feels like I’m moving underwater.They don’t have much time. She means the guys, I’m sure of it. But why don’t they have much time? And me too? I missed her message and have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Jac?” I call, and get no answer. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to get my hazy vision to clear. It doesn’t, and the bad feeling comes on strong. The last thing I want is to be alone right now. I’m so fucking cold, and the room wasn’t this chilly when I went to bed only an hour ago.
“Jac?”
I go to the door, having a hard time gripping the knob. Something is wrong. Very wrong. The door opens without a sound and I step into the hall. The house is silent and dark.
The TV isn’t on.
The guys aren’t in the living room talking.
The lights are off in the kitchen.
“Thomas? Gilbert?” My voice reverberates off the walls of the empty house. “Hasan?”
No one answers, and I move down the hall, feeling like I’m dragging my legs through wet sand. Maybe they’re outside. Throwing out my hand, I feel along the wall for the railing and grip it tight as I make my way down the grand staircase. My vision still isn’t clear, and my heart is racing faster and faster with each step I take.
I flick on the light in the foyer and stop. “Guys?”
No one answers, so I make my way through the rest of the house. The living room is picked up as if no one was in it. Fuck, I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.
I put on my shoes and go outside, able to see a little better once I’m on the back porch. The air is deathly still and no crickets chirp. A chill runs down my spine, and all I want to do is go back inside and hide under my covers, which is so unlike me I know I’m picking up on someone else’s emotions. I have to be. I’m a fighter. I don’t run. And I certainly don’t hide.
“Guys?” I call again, stepping off the porch and taking a few steps away from the house. Walking backward, I look up, trying to spot their dark shadows up on the roof. They’re not there, and the fact that I’m scared shitless and no one is coming to see what’s up is a big red flag.
Did something happen to my guys?
“Hello?” I inhale, hating how shaky I am, and go out toward the barn. I slow, pulse pounding, and hear something that sounds like voices. Putting one hand over my mouth, I creep around and see candlelight flickering, illuminating the outlines of three people. They’re wearing hooded robes and are chanting in what I think is Latin. It’s a language I don’t know, but it doesn’t have to be translated for me to know this is bad.
They’re performing some sort of dark ritual.
My heart is in my throat, and I inch forward, going against every fiber of my being that’s telling me to hightail it back into the house. One of the men in robes picks up the lantern and walks away, heading toward the woods behind the barn. The others follow and I wait a beat, giving them enough of a head start that they won’t hear me, but not enough that I’ll lose them. I move from the barn to the chicken coop, staying out of sight.
Swallowing my fear, I start to feel dizzy and my vision gets fuzzy again. I just feel weird…almost as if this isn’t real at all. I push off the side of the chicken coop and force myself to take slow, steady steps, not stopping until the guys go into the woods. They’re a few yards in, and one of them takes the candle from the lantern, using the flame to ignite a bigger fire under a cauldron.
I’m in danger and I know it. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to die. My chest tightens and it’s hard to breathe. I squeeze my eyes shut, mentally yelling at myself to get it the fuck together. When I open my eyes, one of the hooded figures is standing only feet from me. I open my mouth to scream but no sound comes out.
Slowly, he reaches up and pulls his hood back. His eyes are black, and he’s wearing a leather mask that’s made out of different kinds of flesh. We stand there in a silent stand-off, and then he rushes forward.
I can’t fight the feeling to flee any longer, and I turn and run as fast as I can through the dark grass. My feet should be getting wet with dew, but they’re not. This isn’t real…it can’t be.
I’m dreaming, and as soon as I get to the house I’m going to wake up. Gritting my teeth, I push harder and make it to the house before the masked man can catch me. I jump onto the porch and burst through the door.
But I don’t wake up.
Instead, I trip over chunks of broken cement, falling hard onto the kitchen floor. I scramble up, turning around to make sure the guy hadn’t followed me. The door is closed, and I know I’d left it open. I am dreaming, and I need to wake up.
Gripping the counter, I feel along the wall for the light switch. I flick it on, blinking from the harsh light, and look at the floor, letting out a scream. This time I do have a voice. I didn’t trip over broken cement. I tripped over the smashed remains of my gargoyles.
“Ace!” A heavy hand lands on my shoulder. I jerk awake—for real this time. I think. I’m panting, still lying down in bed, and Jacques is hovering over me, brows pinched together with worry. “Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
“Jac,” I say feebly, eyes brimming with tears. I’m freaked out, and the sight of him and the others smashed to pieces, regardless of it being a dream, is really fucking upsetting.
