by Tom DeLonge
He ran his fingers down the length of her arm, and Samantha winced as if anticipating pain when he paused at her injured wrist. Jonas lifted her hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissed it gently. The taste of her skin, the soft sound she made when he touched her…
Jonas kissed the inside of her elbow. Her shoulder. He felt her heaving in breaths, and then Samantha turned and looked up at him, her lips parted.
Oh, fuck, Jonas thought. She’s gorgeous.
Samantha licked her lower lip and then she got on her tiptoes and kissed him. She was hot against him, and Jonas got lost in the smoothness of her skin, the smell of her hair, and the taste of her lips. His senses spun, and he kissed Samantha harder, his fingers sliding into her hair. They were both frenzied, as if they’d been waiting forever for this. Samantha stumbled back a step, and they fell into the rack of clothes, breaking their kiss. They stared at each other for a second, and then laughed before crashing back together in another frantic tangle. Jonas put the toe of his sneaker on his heel, kicking off his shoes so he could pull off his jeans.
Samantha was smiling through the kiss, laughing as she worked at Jonas’s belt. “This will be so much better than a dream,” she murmured, unlooping the buckle.
“I’ll never forget this,” Jonas said, looking over her body and wondering where would be the best place to start.
There was the double beep of an alarm in the hallway, and Samantha gasped, and pulled back. She lowered her eyes as she listened. A second later, there was the sound of the front door opening.
“Shit,” she said, reaching out to grab a random sweater off the hanger. She quickly pulled it over her head, and swiped out her long hair from the collar. Jonas was still standing, no shoes, his belt undone. Sam smiled at him, and draped her arms over his shoulders and kissed him sweetly on the lips. “You’d better make yourself more presentable,” she whispered, before pecking him again and walking toward her vanity.
Jonas stared after her, watching as she attended to her appearance in the mirror. His thoughts were still in the closet. “Why, exactly?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Because,” she responded, gliding on soft pink lip gloss. She turned to him and smiled. “You’re about to meet my parents.”
Jonas sat at the dining room table, his hands folded in his lap. Alexander Birnam-Wood stared at him with no concern about politeness. He was tall with thin blond hair, dark brown eyes. Molly had told him that Samantha’s dad used to be a Dream Walker and a Poet killer, but right now, he just looked like an uptight businessman with serious control issues.
The dining room itself was grand. It was nothing like the quaint, small home Jonas had grown up in. Hell, his house didn’t even have a dining room. The block wood table with carved legs, the white walls, and gold finishing. Even the centerpiece on the table was elaborate and gaudy. But Sam and her family ate as if not noticing it.
Jonas looked over at Sam, and she smiled, taking a bite of the Thai take-out her father and stepmother had brought home. Samantha’s stepmother, Felicia, seemed like a nice lady—soft spoken and gentle, and far younger than her husband.
Jonas shifted his gaze to his food but found he couldn’t taste under the pressure of Alexander’s stare.
“So, Jonas,” Alexander said. “You’ve told me you work as my doorman, and that your brother is in a persistent vegetative state…”
Jonas looked up fiercely and saw that Alexander was purposely trying to agitate him. “Alan’s in a coma,” Jonas repeated. “And the doctors are hopeful.”
“Of course they are,” he said dismissively, taking a bite of food from his chopsticks. “So how did you and Samantha meet?” he asked.
“English class,” Sam said for Jonas. “He needed to borrow a pen.” They looked at each other and Sam smiled.
Alexander nodded as if this was interesting. He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “And that black eye,” he said to Jonas. “How exactly did you get that?”
“I got in a fight,” Jonas said, daring Alexander to continue with his questions.
“It was Dan,” Samantha spoke up. “All Jonas did was talk to me and Dan knocked him out.”
Jonas shot her a look, letting her know she didn’t need to emphasize his clear loss in the fight. Across the table, Alexander smiled.
“That’s because Daniel Morgan is a Neanderthal,” he said. His wife snorted a laugh and took a sip of her red wine. “He belongs in a zoo, not at my dinner table.”
Samantha’s mouth fell open, and she looked between her parents. “I thought you liked him,” she said, accusingly. “You always told me I should go out with him!”
“No, honey,” her stepmother said. “We tolerated him because the other students at your public school are—” She glanced uncomfortably at Jonas and then leaned in, as if he wouldn’t be able to hear her. “Well, they’re beneath you. Daniel’s parents at least own a successful company.”
Samantha stared at her, contempt in her expression. She had told Jonas that he wouldn’t fit within her world, and considering her stepmother’s words, he saw that she was probably right. He took a bite of his Pad Thai.
“Where have you been, Jonas?” Alexander asked, startling him. Jonas tightened his jaw and turned to him. They locked eyes, and in his expression, he read that Alexander knew that Jonas had spoken to Molly. He knew that Alexander Birnam-Wood was a Dream Walker and that he shouldn’t be trusted.
“We were moving here from Portland,” Jonas said, purposefully vague. Sam and her stepmother continued eating, oblivious to the tension building between the two men. Alexander took a sip of wine, not breaking eye-contact.
“And before that?” he asked. “You’ve moved around a lot.” When his daughter looked at him questioningly, he clarified. “I’m assuming,” he said with a tepid smile.
“We have,” Jonas said, a fire growing in his gut. “After my parents died, Alan had to find work, so we’ve been all over.”
“Your parents?” Felicia said, covering her mouth. “Oh, you poor thing.”
Jonas nodded a thanks for her condolences, but then returned to Alexander. “My parents used to work for you, actually,” he said. “My mother was a maid at your hotel.” Alexander stiffened, obviously surprised that Jonas would open up that part of the conversation.
“Must have been years ago,” he said, going back to his food. Jonas noted the loss of color in his cheeks, the sharp angle of his jaw as if he was chewing too hard. “I don’t remember her.”
“I didn’t know your parents worked at the Eden Hotel,” Samantha told Jonas. She turned to her father. “Dad, you know everyone,” she said. “You have to have known them.”
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “But I don’t know any Andersons.” He tossed his napkin beside his plate and laid his chopsticks over his food. He looked around and saw most of them were finished eating, so he asked his wife to clear the plates. She gave him a questioning glance, and reluctantly agreed. Jonas figured she wasn’t normally charged with cleaning up after people.
The fact that Alexander denied knowing his mother hurt. Not only did she work for him, but they were Dream Walkers together. He’d been there the day she died. How dare he pretend that never happened?
“I think it’s time for Jonas to go home,” Alexander said to his daughter. “Although I’m glad you helped him after Daniel’s attack, you may want to do some damage control with your friends.”
Samantha scoffed. “What do I care what my friends think?” she asked. “You know it’s too late anyway.”
Her father stood, and Jonas was reminded of his formidable height. Samantha’s resolve visibly wavered. “What’s the alternative?” he asked. “You become a social outcast and your grades fall, your admission papers look less and less appealing. You stay in Seattle forever. Is that what you want? Or should I just pull you now so you can attend Saint Catherine’s and—”
“Yeah, I got it,” she snapped. “But you know they’re horrible people, too.”
“Horrible people often go on to be important people, Samantha,” he said. “You have no idea how essential it is to know those important people later in life.”
Sam didn’t look convinced, but she pushed back in her chair angrily. “Let’s go, Jonas,” she said. “I’ll drop you off.”
“No, you won’t,” Alexander said. “I’ll take him back to the hotel. I have to stop in anyway.”
Jonas swallowed hard and stared down at his plate. As if dinner wasn’t stressful enough, he was sure he’d get an earful in the car. Samantha groaned and grabbed Jonas’s sleeve pulling him from the chair.
“Fine,” she said. “But I’m walking him out.”
Jonas followed, looking back to thank Felicia for dinner, though she’d had no hand in making it. Felicia waved, smiling warmly, and then continued to go about her task. Alexander, on the other hand, was boring a hole into Jonas’s face with his death stare.
Jonas and Sam went out into the driveway, and paused beside Alexander’s Mercedes, Sam reached to put her palm gently on Jonas’s cheek. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, and then leaned in to kiss his bruise, a soft flutter of a touch under his eye. Jonas took her by the waist and pulled her into him, resting his forehead against hers, wishing they’d had more time together.
“Listen,” he said quietly, eyes closed. “I have to tell you something about your dad.”
“That he’s an asshole?” she whispered. “Too late. I already know.”
Jonas smiled. “He’s a Dream Walker, Sam.” He straightened and looked down at her. Sam’s eyes widened. “At least he used to be,” Jonas continued. “And he knew my mother. He was with her when she died.”
Sam shook her head, and turned back to the house. The front door opened, and Alexander exited with keys in his hand. His wife ran out after him, holding his coat. Jonas turned Sam back to him.
“I need your help,” he told her. “I need everything you can find on Night Terrors. How to defeat them.”
Sam laughed. “And where am I researching this? The official Dream Walker archives?”
“Possibly. You could check your father’s computer, his office. I don’t know. Any place you think he might keep records.” Jonas had a twinge of guilt at suggesting Sam spy on her dad, but then again, Jonas knew he was a liar. And liars kept secrets.
“If he knows how to defeat Night Terrors, I’m sure he would have told the others,” Sam said.
Jonas checked the porch and saw Alexander kiss his wife goodbye. “Not necessarily,” he told Sam quickly. “Dream Walkers think of it as some kind of code. Everyone has to figure it out for themselves. Find their own way.”
“So you want to cheat?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.
“Is it cheating or is it finding my own way?”
Sam smiled, stepping closer. “God you’re so fucking sexy,” she whispered.
“That’s my way, too,” Jonas replied.
The car locks beeped, and Jonas turned to see Alexander approaching, his expression stern. This wouldn’t be a great time to kiss his daughter goodbye. Jonas held up his hand to Sam for a high five, making her laugh. She slapped it and said goodbye before he got in the passenger seat.
The interior of the car was tan leather, and cold through Jonas’s clothes. Sam walked back to the house, ignoring her father when he told her goodbye. The interior lights clicked on as Alexander got in the car, and Jonas watched him, his urge to tell him off nearly too much to bear.
Both men sat quietly for a moment. Alexander backed out of the driveway, flipping on his lights when they started down the street. The heat clicked on, brushing Jonas’s hair back from his face, stinging his sore cheek. Alexander was driving fast, and after nearly ten minutes of silence, he glanced over at Jonas for the first time.
“How did you find her?” he asked in a low voice.
“Excuse me?”
“My daughter,” Alexander said, louder. “How did you find Samantha?”
Jonas furrowed his brow. “She told you,” he said. “We have the same English—”
“Not here,” he snapped. “Not in the Waking World. How did you find her in Genesis?”
Jonas’s lips rounded, surprised to hear about the Dream World even though he knew Alexander had been a Dream Walker. “Well,” Jonas said. “I can’t really remember my dreams all that well. But Sam told me she was on the street and I ran up to talk to her. I must have recognized her from school. Turns out she likes me.”
“Yes, I noticed,” Alexander said contemptuously. “My trouble with that scenario, Poet, is that she shouldn’t have been in that world at all.”
Goosebumps rose on Jonas’s skin at the mention of Poet. His tone making Jonas feel uncomfortable. Even threatened. “Maybe that’s why we met. I helped her back into a safer dream.”
“That should have been it, then,” Alexander said. “You were a Poet helping a lost dreamer. You relocated her. Now you disappear from her life. So why were you at my dinner table?”
Because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Jonas thought. He didn’t know what being a Poet meant. And more than anything, he didn’t know how to disappear from Sam’s life. Not now.
“You were traveling with your brother,” Alexander said. “Popping in and out of the dreamscape at random, always in his dreams. Impossible to track. You should have continued on your course, just like your mother had wanted. Instead, Alan is in a coma and you’re bringing my daughter into your nightmares.”
Guilt assaulted him, and Jonas shifted in the seat to face Alexander. “I didn’t bring Sam to Genesis,” he said. “You can’t blame me for that. You’re a Dream Walker—did you ever consider that your daughter could be a Lucid Dreamer? Maybe she got herself into the Dream World.”
Alexander hardened his jaw, staring ahead at the road. “She’s not,” he said. “I would have known. It’s you. You’re tunneling her and bringing her in.”
Jonas shook his head. “Or maybe you just don’t know your daughter all that well.”
“I know more than you think, boy,” Alexander said in a low warning voice. He turned the corner and eased his Mercedes to the curb in front of the Eden Hotel. Alexander held up his hand to Hillenbrand to let him know he wasn’t ready to be interrupted yet. The doorman tipped his hat and folded his hands in front of him, shooting Jonas a concerned look.
Alexander turned to Jonas, his dark eyes searching him. He smiled politely. “You can keep the doorman job, Jonas. I’m the one who arranged for you and Alan to come to town. I knew you’d be safe at the hotel. You’d fulfill your purpose.”
Jonas looked at the floor of the car, his mind swirling with this revelation. The hotel had contacted Alan, handed him the best job offer he’d seen. He and his brother should have been more skeptical. They should have been more careful.
“You will not see my daughter again,” Alexander said. “You are not only a danger to her heart, but to her soul, as well. We both know there are…creatures looking for you. Threats. I brought you and Alan back to this city for a reason. Your brother has already disappointed me. But if you do the same, I’ll kill you both.”
Jonas’s entire face was hot with anger, his fingers curling at his side.
“Now get out of my car,” Alexander said casually, and turned ahead to face the street like Jonas didn’t exist anymore.
Chapter Twenty
Hillenbrand rushed forward when Jonas got of the car. The Mercedes pulled away, squealing its tires. Hillenbrand gave Jonas a “you barely survived, huh?” look, and went back to his post as Jonas headed inside.
Marshall glanced up from where he stood at the front desk, pen in his hand. When he saw Jonas, he set the pen purposefully aside and crossed his arms over his chest. He seemed wholly unimpressed with Jonas’s
black eye. “I’m sure you’re aware,” Marshall told him calmly, “that your shift starts in fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” Jonas said. “I was just about to get dressed and head up.”
Marshall pursed his lips. “Perhaps track down Molly first. She can help you cover that up.” He tapped the space below his eye. Jonas felt a wave of embarrassment, his run-in with the resident school douchebag was completely trivial in the grand scheme of his problems.
“I’ll expect you on time, Mr. Anderson,” Marshall said, picking up his pen again as he shifted some papers in front of him.
“Absolutely,” Jonas said. “In fact,” he said. “I’ll be there a minute early.” He smiled, trying to look earnest, but Marshall grumbled something under his breath and began scrolling through his documents.
Jonas walked to the elevator, and found he was still pretty pissed about his conversation with Alexander. There was a thought brewing in the back of his mind—something he’d forgotten from a dream, he suspected. He couldn’t grasp it, though, and he got to his room and quickly dressed in his uniform. With his bowler hat perched on his head, he went upstairs—two minutes late.
Jonas had his apologetic smile ready for Marshall as he stepped off the elevator, and was surprised when he saw Samantha walking in the front doors. Marshall jumped to attention and headed out to meet her at the same time Jonas did. The three of them stopped, awkwardly looking at each other. Jonas realized with disgust that he had forgotten his place. He was just the doorman.
“Miss Birnam-Wood,” Marshall said, his eyes flicking immediately to Jonas. “What are you doing here?”
Sam didn’t miss a beat. “My father asked me to stop by to give these to Jonas.” She held up a manila folder, and Jonas straightened. There was no way she found information from her dad that easily. That quickly.
Marshall reached for the folder, but Sam pulled it back. “Sorry,” she said, “but these are personal files. He was hoping I could go over them with Jonas privately.”