by Vicki Leigh
Kayla sat on her bed, reading, and at 8:58 p.m., the nurse provided Kayla her medicine. By 9:05 p.m., she was asleep, and Hendrik went to work. I closed my eyes and waited for the Nightmares to arrive.
Within thirty minutes the hairs on my arms rose, and I opened my eyes when sulfur filled my nose. Six Nightmares came from all directions. Before I had a chance to react, the Nightmare nearest me ran for the bed. I sprinted and caught the monster inches from the footboard, knocking it to the ground. The Nightmare thrashed in my arms, its elbow catching my nose. I swore as black lingered on the sides of my vision then punched the beast in the jaw. Its head bounced off the floor.
But the Nightmare was stronger than usual. It reacted quickly and kicked me off. The middle of my back hit the corner of Kayla’s bed. I gasped for air, the wind knocked out of me. A blade flew over my head, hitting the Nightmare between the eyes. I jumped to my feet and spun around. Samantha had just saved my life.
“Not today, Daniel,” she said before mule-kicking the Nightmare behind her.
After rolling my eyes, I flicked them around the room until I found Seth. He was battling two Nightmares simultaneously—and losing. Plucking Samantha’s dagger out of my Nightmare’s head and tucking it into my belt, I ran across the room to help my friend, a dagger in each hand.
Wrapping my arms around one of the Nightmares’ necks from behind, I yanked the beast away from Seth. Its claws dug into my arm, trying to squirm away. I groaned in pain, but when I pulled the creature back far enough that it couldn’t reach Seth, I let the Nightmare go and in the same motion sliced my dagger across its throat. The monster fell forward, slashing at whatever it could before collapsing on the ground. The Nightmare’s scream was like a foghorn in my ear. I winced and turned away.
And that was when I saw the Nightmare on Kayla’s bed dig his claws deep into Hendrik’s chest and stomach. He screamed and the dream above Kayla’s bed flickered to nothingness. I ran as hard as I could, leapt onto the bed and stabbed my dagger into the Nightmare’s back. It screeched and dropped Hendrik. Hendrik fell off the bed, dead, into a ball on the floor. In one swift movement, the Nightmare turned around and backhanded me so hard I flew into the window. The back of my head smacked the glass and I fell to the ground. Blackness took over.
Kayla’s screams woke me minutes later. Samantha and Seth stood back to back, fighting two of the remaining three Nightmares. The third, the large one that tossed me into the window like a stuffed animal, poised over Kayla’s body. From where I laid on the ground, I saw for the first time how truly massive the beast was, like someone had pumped it full of steroids. I’d never seen one so large. No wonder my blade didn’t kill it.
I pushed myself up, my body aching everywhere. Throwing a dagger was out, given the monster’s proximity to Kayla, but I could charge it. Running and jumping on the bed, I threw my entire body weight into the Nightmare. The creature budged but didn’t fall. I did the only thing I could and heaved backward, pulling the oversized beast with me to the floor.
The Nightmare landed on top of me, sending ripples of pain down my back and legs. I jammed my dagger into the side of its neck as hard as I could. Black blood squirted out of the wound, coating both the floor and me, but I hit my mark. The monster squealed then went silent.
“No! Please no! Help! Somebody help me!” Kayla thrashed around in the bed, fighting whatever she was seeing in her nightmare.
My eyes snapped toward the bed, and I shoved the dead Nightmare off me, groaning at the pain in my lower spine. I should go straight to Bartholomew, but I hadn’t been able to protect her. Again. There was no way I was leaving her in this state.
Forcing myself up from the floor, I stumbled to the bed while Seth and Samantha disposed of the bodies. Kayla was still screaming when I sat down, and I put my hands on her shoulders. I didn’t know what my words would do, considering she couldn’t hear them, but I had to try. “Kayla, calm down. You’re safe now.” When I touched her cheek, her screaming quieted. “That’s it. You’re okay.”
“Um, Daniel—”
“Not now, Sam.”
Kayla’s eyes opened. And stared right at me. Again, the screams started.
“Help!” She smacked my hand off her cheek and forced me away, scooting back on the bed. “Somebody help me!”
Oh, shit. I jumped off the bed and raised my hands in the air. “I’m sorry. I’m not here to hurt you, I swear.”
“Get away from me!” Kayla threw her pillow at me, smacking me in the face.
Samantha grabbed my arm and evaporated us to Rome.
e landed in Samantha’s room.
“What the hell was that?” she screamed at me. “You went corporeal! And you touched her!”
“I know.”
“You broke the first law of Dreamcatching!”
“I know!” Breathing deep, I tried to calm my voice. “Sam, please. Don’t say anything to Giovanni.”
She sighed. “You know I wouldn’t. But tell me—what were you thinking?”
I ran my left hand through my hair. “I don’t know. I screwed up, again, and she paid for it. I didn’t want her to be afraid anymore.”
“Yeah, and you showing up out of nowhere worked like a charm.”
“I didn’t know I’d gone corporeal.”
Samantha crossed the room and grabbed a towel out of her bathroom. “Yeah, no shit. I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen. You’re covered in blood, by the way. I don’t want you staining my stuff.” She threw the towel at me.
I caught the cloth and groaned. The sudden movement of my arms sent a shockwave of pain down my back.
“You really should let someone see that.”
“Yeah, I know.” After wiping my face and hands, I threw the towel in Samantha’s rubbish, opened her door and went to find Bartholomew.
“This is going to hurt, but don’t move,” Bartholomew said. I held my breath when his hands rested on my spine. Then he pushed, and I gripped the end of the hospital bed as sharp pain blackened my vision. When Bartholomew drove the long needle into my spine, I swore, pressing my forehead into the mattress. Did he have to make this as painful as possible?
“There. That should help speed up the healing process. But I want you off your feet as much as possible. After a few days you should be able to move around without injuring yourself any further. Take the pain pills as needed and wear the back brace, including when you sleep. Understood?”
I nodded into the sheets and breathed slowly through clenched teeth. The stabbing in my lower back had only intensified with Bartholomew’s adjustment, and the serum burned through my body.
“You’re lucky you only twisted it. Now, go give Giovanni a full report and then go home and lie down. Swing your legs off the bed to stand up. Don’t bend your back.”
I followed his instructions, and when I was standing upright, he wrapped the brace around my waist. This was going to be so uncomfortable. Slipping on my T-shirt, I left the hospital room. Samantha waited for me outside the door.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Just great.” Every step made me want to punch something. How soon until the damn shot started to work?
“Here—lean on me.”
I held up my hand. “I’m good.” When she frowned, I added, “Thanks, though.”
By the time we reached Giovanni’s office, I sweated through my shirt. The pain was unbearable, but I couldn’t appear weak right now. Samantha opened the door, and we entered.
Giovanni sat at his desk, his forehead in his hands. Seth stood to the side, still wearing the same clothes he’d fought in. His dark eyes told me we were going to have a serious talk later. Great. He was as bad as Samantha.
I walked up to the desk and sat in one of the chairs. My sudden appearance startled Giovanni.
“Daniel. How’s your back?” he asked.
“Just twisted, sir.”
“That’s good. Seth told me about the attack tonight. Six this time?”
“Yes, sir.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand.” Standing from his chair, he continued, “I expected you to have to fight every night. It’s why I picked you. But six? Has she shown any signs of violence?”
“No, sir.” Well, not on purpose.
Giovanni stared out the window. People were starting to pile into the streets. Somehow, people-watching had become a way for Giovanni to sort out his thoughts.
“Then I think we need to dig deeper. There must be something about this girl that has their attention. Bartholomew found nothing yet, but with Hendrik’s death…” He paused to collect himself.
I must have underestimated how close he and Hendrik were.
He continued, “I feel it more important than ever to determine their cause for such interest. Continue to report to me daily. I want to know everything about this girl. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” I stood from my chair and left his office, unable to tell him I couldn’t do this anymore. Samantha and Seth followed me out the door.
Seth wasted no time bombarding me as soon as we got back to our apartment.
“Are you tryin’ to get killed?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Tossing the pain meds on the counter, I plopped down on the couch, covering my eyes with my arm.
“Well, that’s too bad because I’m fed up with your brooding shit. You gotta wake up and face the facts, man. You can’t stay away from her, but she needs you. You’re the best Giovanni’s got. If you died or asked to be benched or whatever, Giovanni will pull her protection, and she’ll be a Nightmare feast.”
My chest tightened. Twice now I’d seen her thrashing about as Nightmares fed off her deepest fears. I couldn’t leave her to that fate. Damn it. Why after all these years had I developed feelings for her?
Seth continued, “I also think you deserve a chance at happiness.”
I dropped my arm. “What?”
“Kayla. Screw the first Law. You broke it anyway.”
“You want me to pursue her? You’re insane. Giovanni would have me ‘terminated.’” Which was a nice way of saying he’d end my afterlife.
“I’m your best friend, and I’m looking out for you because I know you’ll wish you were dead if you have to spend the next forty or fifty years watching her with some other dude. So, do you wanna take a chance at somethin’ real?”
Something real? It’d never be real. Eventually she’d want something more—someone to grow old with, to start a family with. But Seth had a point. I wouldn’t be able to stay away forever. Tonight had made that painfully obvious.
“Did I ever tell you how I died?” Seth asked.
“No. You said you were from Alabama. That’s all.”
“Yeah. I was at the bank. My girl worked there as a teller, and I was visiting before work. The bank got held up and the bastard put a gun at my girl’s head. She starts crying, filling the bags with money and starin’ at me like she wished I wasn’t there to see this. But there I stood, watching her, knowing I couldn’t stand by and see her be treated like that. I jumped him. Took a bullet to the chest, but damn it, I took him down. I wasn’t letting him hurt the one girl I cared about most in the world.”
To be a Catcher, one must have sacrificed his life for the sake of others. Seth’s story made my chest tighten. He died to save the woman he loved. There was no sacrifice greater.
“Look, I know you ain’t ‘in love’ yet or whatever, but you could be. And then all this”—he opened his dark arms wide—“would have meaning again.”
For seconds I stared at him, lost for words. I doubted Kayla would do anything but scream her head off when she saw me again. Was she worth dying for?
I sighed. “What’s the plan?”
This was a stupid plan.
Dressed in dark jeans and a blue dress shirt, I evaporated into Kayla’s room. She lay on her bed, a book propped against her knees. After taking a deep breath, I walked through the wall to stand outside her room. Then I snuck down the hall, corporeal, and grabbed a “visitor” badge off the nurses’ station when they weren’t looking. I clipped the I.D. to the pocket of my shirt and returned to Kayla’s doorway, letting out a deep sigh.
“I should never have let Seth talk me into this.” I knocked once like the nurses did and opened the door.
Kayla jumped off her bed with a yelp, holding her pencil out toward me like a sword. “You! I thought I imagined you!”
I held my hands up. “My name’s Daniel Graham. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Get out of my room right now before I call the nurses and have you arrested!” She moved toward the button on her bed.
“Kayla—”
She pressed the button. “Please, I think I’m seeing things. I need—”
Grabbing her wrist, I pulled her hand off the button before she could continue. “Hey, look at me. You’re not seeing things.” I put her hand on my cheek. “See? I’m real.”
She snatched her hand away as the door opened. I forced myself to stay visible, not wanting Kayla to continue thinking she was imagining me. Maybe she’d believe I was real once the nurse verified my existence.
The nurse gasped. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Kayla’s eyes widened. Good.
I held up my hands. “I’m a friend from high school. Just visiting. We pressed the button by accident. Sorry.”
The nurse, seeing my visitor badge, calmed. She frowned at Kayla. “Well don’t push it again unless you really need something.” The nurse left the room with a scowl on her face.
Kayla stepped away from me. “But last night… last night you were here. I swear you were here.” Her eyes glistened.
I pursed my lips together before speaking. “I was. But it’s not what you’re thinking.”
She stepped away from me, her face pale. “So you were watching me while I slept? What kind of sick monster are you?”
My stomach tightened. This was going so badly. “No, nothing like that. I’m—” Damn it. I might as well say it. “I’m your Dreamcatcher. Everybody has one.”
“My what?” She reached for the call button again.
“Dreamcatcher. Each of us is assigned to someone to watch over them while they sleep and protect them from Nightmares.”
She gaped. “This is insane.” Kayla sat on her bed with a whimper and closed her eyes. “Oh god, you’re still there,” she said when she opened them again.
“I promise I’m real. Even your nurse saw me.”
A tear rolled down her face. I paused, racking my brain for a way I could get her to believe me. No matter what lie I could come up with today, eventually the complete truth would make itself known, and then I’d be in worse shape than I was now. Getting it all out on the table now was important, and either she’d believe me or she wouldn’t.
“Okay, I’ll show you. Does this building have Wi-Fi?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
“Good. Don’t move.” I evaporated back to my flat, grabbed my laptop off my desk, and then evaporated again to her room. Kayla jumped when I re-appeared and clutched her stomach.
Okay, maybe disappearing and reappearing wasn’t such a good idea.
“Here.” I handed her the computer. She stared at the laptop like it was a bomb ready to explode. Sighing, I nodded toward the bed. “May I sit?”
When Kayla didn’t say anything, I sat anyway. She stiffened but didn’t move. That’s one step in the right direction, I suppose. I typed in the address to my favorite ancestry site—a site I knew housed England’s records—and pulled up my family’s.
The page displayed both certificates of birth and certificates of death. And underneath was a family portrait, scanned in by whoever owned the painting now. When I turned the screen so she could see, Kayla’s eyes scanned the picture until she found what I wanted her to see. Me.
She pointed at the portrait. “Wait, you’re not… this isn’t… is this you?”
I nodded. “That’s me in 181
2. It’s the last family portrait we had painted before my brothers and I left for the war.”
She pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. “Okay. So, now you’re telling me not only are you real, but you’re dead? And you were born in”—she looked at the screen—”1797?”
“Yes.”
Kayla shot up and paced, her hands shaking at her sides. “Oh god. Ghosts are real.”
“We’re not ghosts. They’re different. They don’t still have their bodies.”
She whimpered again. “That doesn’t make me feel any better. Wait, does this mean there are other supernatural creatures out there?”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Just about every story about a supernatural creature was grounded in something real, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.
She gripped her stomach. “So, you stand guard over me while I sleep and protect me from nightmares. Like, you invade my mind and stop them from happening?”
“No. They’re actual creatures. Contrary to scientific belief, a Nightmare isn’t developed in the human brain. They’re the result of demonic creatures that grab hold of you while you sleep and force the images into your head.”
Kayla stared at me, her eyes wide and her face pale. Then, to my surprise, she covered her mouth and laughed. “Oh my god. This is insane.” She paced the room again. “I’m crazy. I have to be crazy.”
“You’re not crazy.”
“Only crazy people have randomly appearing people telling them they’re not crazy. I am definitely crazy.”
“Stop saying that word.”
Her eyes squinted, as if she was sizing me up. Then she grabbed a pastel off her rocking chair and chucked the crayon at me. I caught it, and her eyes widened again.
She held up her pointer finger, opening then closing her mouth. My eyebrow raised.
“First,” she said, “you have freakishly good reflexes. Second, if I was imagining you, that would’ve gone through to the wall, right?”
“Yes.” I set the pastel on the bed.
Slowly, she walked across the room and poked me, hard, in the chest. I rolled my eyes when hers widened. What would it take for her to believe me?