by Ally Blue
Afterward, he wiped his hand on his pant leg, got up and went back inside. He eventually fell asleep on the bed, still fully dressed and barely aware of the wet trails on his cheeks.
Sweat poured down Sam’s back and face as he pounded into his lover’s body with all his strength. The man screamed when he came, his legs shaking around Sam’s neck. Sam pulled out just as his orgasm washed over him, and he came on his faceless partner’s stomach.
Something dripped on his neck, something warm and thick, trickling like molasses between his shoulder blades. He looked up. A drop of blood hung trembling from one empty eye socket of Amy’s severed head. Sam looked down again. Bo’s sightless eyes stared back at him from a ruined mask of glistening red. Then he saw the raw, bloody hole in Bo’s stomach, the strips of flesh hanging from his own gory claws, and he screamed.
Sam sat straight up in bed, eyes wide and mouth open. His throat felt raw, and the air trembled with the echo of his scream.
His gaze darted frantically around the room, trying to anchor himself in the real world. Sunlight made the pale yellow walls glow, and Sam realized it was morning.
Another dream. The worst one yet. Sam buried his face in his hands. “I didn’t want it to be him,” he groaned. “Fuck, fuck…”
Without warning, the door flew open. Sam jumped backward, drawing his knees up against his chest and pressing his back to the solid wooden headboard of the bed. His heart pounded like a jackhammer, so fast it made him feel dizzy and weak.
Bo stood in the doorway, panting like he’d just sprinted a mile. “Sam? Christ, are you okay?”
Sam nodded. “Fine. Just…just a dream. A bad dream.”
“It must’ve been more than just bad. You were screaming.” Bo edged cautiously forward, watching Sam closely. He sat on the bed and touched Sam’s knee with a tentative hand. “Andre and Cecile both had nightmares too. Much worse than before, they said.”
“So was this one.” Sam drew a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Even now, wide awake in the bright summer morning with the dream behind him, he felt jumpy and on edge. As if he were waiting for something to happen, he realized.
“Cecile’s sure it means something that she and Andre both had dreams that were so much more horrible than before,” Bo said.
Sam gave him a curious look, trying to ignore Bo’s hand still resting on his leg. “What do the rest of you think?”
“David and Andre don’t think it means a thing. Amy, surprisingly, agrees with Cecile.” Bo shook his head, pursing his lips in thought. “I don’t know what to think. As a scientist, I’m inclined to dismiss it as coincidence. But I can’t entirely ignore the fact that Andre’s and Cecile’s dreams have been and still are nearly identical. The thing I can’t figure out is where your dreams fit into the picture.”
Sam slid off the bed and stood, needing to shake Bo’s touch. “I know. Mine are similar, but different. I don’t understand it either.”
Bo fixed Sam with a penetrating stare. “I can’t shake the feeling that you’re the key to this whole thing, Sam.”
Sam licked his dry lips. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” Bo’s voice was soft and slow, his expression thoughtful. “It’s not scientific in the least. It’s just a feeling. But I know—I know—that if we can find the link between what you’ve experienced here and what’s happened in the past, we can solve the mystery of this place.”
Sam wasn’t sure what to say. It fit, it felt like the truth, and he hated that. He didn’t want to be the key. Right then, he wished he could slip back into the cloak of anonymity he’d kept tight around himself his whole life, until Oleander House and Bo had turned everything inside out.
“So where’s everyone?” Sam asked. “Have they already gone to Gautier?”
Bo gave him a sharp look, but didn’t fight the change of subject. “Not yet, no. Amy and I are going in a little bit. Right now everybody’s downstairs going over evidence from yesterday. I came up to get my wallet, or I guess I wouldn’t have heard you.”
Sam glanced out the window, noticing for the first time that it didn’t seem to be as early as he’d first thought. “What time is it?”
“About nine-thirty.” Bo smiled. “Don’t worry, everybody but me slept late today.”
Sam returned Bo’s smile, feeling a little better. “Yeah, you’re the only one that doesn’t have either nightmares or a bed partner with nightmares.”
Bo blushed and looked away, and Sam abruptly realized the implications of what he’d just said. He cleared his throat. “So… Um. Just you and Amy are going to Gautier, then?”
“Yeah,” Bo said, studiously avoiding Sam’s gaze. “There’s several hours of tapes and stuff from yesterday, and we got a late start today, so we figured two of us could go get some research done and the rest could stay here and review evidence.”
Sam didn’t ask why they hadn’t included him in the decisions. He thought he knew. He nodded, gaze fixed on the floor. “Sounds good.”
“We didn’t leave you out on purpose,” Bo said softly.
Sam’s head snapped up. Bo was looking at him again, eyes lit with something Sam was afraid to put a name to. “I-I mean,” Bo stammered, clearly shaken by Sam’s silence, “we, um, we thought about coming to wake you up, you know, but Andre and Cecile both said we should let you sleep. They figured if you were getting as little rest as they were, that you needed every minute you could get and it wasn’t fair to wake you.”
Sam shifted his feet uncomfortably. He felt naked and vulnerable, and he wished Bo would just go away and leave him alone. Give him time to pull himself together and get his armor in place before he had to face anyone else.
“Sam?” Bo let out a nervous laugh and pulled on his braid. “Say something.”
Sam kept his voice calm with a tremendous effort. “I guess I did need to sleep.”
Bo’s gaze was far too perceptive for comfort. Sam gritted his teeth and forced a placid expression onto his face.
“Okay,” Bo said. “Well. Amy and I will be back in time for dinner. If you want to join David, Andre and Cecile in the library, feel free, but don’t worry about it if you don’t feel up to it. They’ll understand.”
“How can they possibly understand?” Sam spat before he could stop himself. “Have they just had everyone overhear them making idiots of themselves over someone who doesn’t want them? Not to mention being outed? I don’t think so.”
Bo gaped at him, obviously taken aback. Sam turned away and stared out the window. Go away, he thought venomously. I can’t look at you right now. I can’t look at anyone.
He stiffened when he felt Bo’s hand on his shoulder. Bo’s nearness tingled up his spine, hot and cold and more than he could stand.
“Give us a chance, Sam,” Bo said softly. “We’re glad you’re here, and no one cares that you’re gay.”
Sam didn’t trust himself to speak, so he kept quiet. Eventually Bo dropped his hand and walked away. Sam waited until he heard the door click shut before he let the tension run out of his body. He sank shaking to the floor, leaned his head against the cool wall and closed his eyes.
It took him the better part of an hour to work up the courage to go downstairs. Huddled alone on the braided rug in front of the French doors in his room, the turmoil of his nightmare and Bo’s subsequent visit started to fade and he began to see his situation more clearly.
He no longer had a home or a job in Marietta, not that he missed them. He had a new job he loved, with people whose company he enjoyed. Bo was right; they deserved a chance. Maybe in time, he could even get past what he felt for Bo.
Part of him knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. But if there was one thing Sam was good at, it was hiding his feelings. All he had to do was keep the blandly indifferent mask he’d worn most of his life—the one he’d begun to believe he might not need anymore—and he could work with Bo like nothing had ever transpired between them.
He refused to listen to the part of h
im that didn’t believe that either.
Sam showered and changed clothes before heading downstairs. His co-workers might not mind that he’d kept his sexual orientation from them, but he figured they wouldn’t want to see him rumpled, red-eyed and unshaven, with semen stains on his pants.
When Sam got to the library, Andre and Cecile were each planted in front of a portable TV, watching different videos. David sat slouched in a chair with his feet on the table, listening to one of the audio recorders through headphones. He glanced up when Sam walked in and paused the tape.
“Hey, Sam. Grab an audio, there’s one more. We saved it for you.”
Sam gave David a cautious smile, assessing his mood. His grin was just as wide as it always was, dark blue eyes warm as ever.
“Sure thing,” Sam said, relaxing a little. “Headphones?”
David gestured toward the canvas equipment bag on the sofa. Plucking a pair of headphones from the bag, Sam plugged them into the audio recorder and settled himself into a chair. Andre glanced at him, smiled and nodded before going back to his own tape. Cecile waved at him without looking away from hers.
A wide smile spread over Sam’s face as he switched on the recorder. It was just like Bo said it would be. They all knew not only about his being gay, but about his feelings for Bo, and it hadn’t made any difference at all. He’d never felt such profound relief in his life.
As it turned out, Sam had the audio he and Amy had recorded the day before. He dutifully listened to Amy’s questions and the scuff of their feet on the dirt for the next hour. He heard nothing else. When it ended, he turned off the recorder, leaned back in his chair and stretched lazily.
“Tired?” David asked.
“Mm-hm.” Sam yawned. “Damn. I had absolutely the most God-awful dream ever just before I woke up this morning.”
“Yeah?” Andre pulled his headphones off and popped the tape out of the VCR. “Cecile and I had dreams again too.”
“They made the others look tame.” Cecile added her tape to the pile of reviewed material and curled her bare feet under her in the chair. “I don’t know how much longer I can handle this. These dreams are really getting to me.”
“You’re not the only one,” Andre said darkly. He tilted his head and gave Sam a curious look. “What was yours like this morning, Sam? Was it more or less a continuation of your other ones?”
“More or less, yeah,” Sam hedged. “What about yours and Cecile’s?”
Andre and Cecile glanced at each other. “Yes, they were,” Cecile answered. “The main difference was that this time, we witnessed members of our group here being torn apart, and we couldn’t help them.”
“Couldn’t escape either,” Andre added. “I’ve been trying to do the lucid dreaming thing ever since Cecile mentioned it. Last night’s the first time I’ve been able to realize I was dreaming and try to get out. And sure enough, I couldn’t.”
Sam frowned. “About that, do you mean that the doors were locked, or something was stopping you?”
“Neither,” Cecile said quietly. “We just…couldn’t find our way.”
“It’s like the hallways were warped somehow,” Andre clarified. “Everything seemed dark and sort of blurry, and I couldn’t see any doors anywhere. It’s almost like something was hiding them.”
Sam absorbed this information with a sense of dread. “In all of my dreams, the room I’m in has been sort of hard to focus on. I never can look right at the walls. The angles are all wrong, or something.” Sam blinked as a sudden realization struck him. “And there’s no windows or doors in my dream.”
They all stared at each other with wide eyes. The back of Sam’s neck prickled. He rubbed at it, fighting a strong urge to jump up and run away while he still could.
“I really just want to leave right now,” David declared. “This place is not healthy.”
“I have to agree.” Cecile twirled a strand of hair around her finger, gaze fixed on David’s face. “But we can’t just leave. Not now.”
“She’s right,” Sam agreed. “I want to get away from here too. I’ve barely slept all week and I’m constantly on edge. But I don’t think I could go if I tried.”
“It’s like a compulsion.” Andre scratched his chin. “Our good sense is telling us to go, that’s it’s dangerous to stay here. But there’s something inside us that’s making us stay.”
“You’re all nuts,” David said mildly. He stood and tossed his headphones in the general direction of the equipment bag. “Let’s go out on the porch for a while, huh? I’m getting creeped out sitting in here listening to y’all talk about blurry halls and compulsions and shit. I need some fresh air and a fucking beer.”
Andre chuckled. “I’d give you hell, David, but I’m with you this time. I could use some liquid relaxation myself.”
Cecile unwound herself, hopped to her feet and slipped an arm around David’s waist. “Let’s go. We can discuss it further outside. Maybe being outdoors will inspire us to solve the mystery of Oleander House.”
Sam got up and filed into the kitchen with the rest of them. They grabbed the last four bottles of beer and headed out to the front porch. Andre dropped back to walk beside Sam.
“So. You’re queer, huh?”
Sam’s face flamed, but he met Andre’s gaze without shrinking. Andre didn’t seem upset or ready to judge, just mildly curious.
“Yeah,” Sam answered. “Sorry I didn’t tell you before. It just didn’t seem important.”
“It’s not.” Andre clapped him on the back. “Whatever floats your boat, man.”
“Just don’t stare at my ass.” David grinned over his shoulder. “I get as much of that as I can stand from Andre.”
“You wish,” Andre said, and swatted David’s rear.
David yelped and danced out of reach when Andre lifted his arm for another swing. “See?” he exclaimed. “The guy’s totally gay for me. He can’t get enough of my manly sexiness.”
David wiggled his butt invitingly. Andre calmly flipped him off while Cecile giggled. Sam laughed, feeling the last of his unease drain away. In his experience, anyone who could joke so casually about it had no problem with it. He was profoundly grateful no one had mentioned his confession to Bo the evening before. He wasn’t ready for that conversation just yet.
Chapter Sixteen
The front porch was shady and relatively cool. The four of them sat sipping cold beer and talking while the morning shadows shrank against the house, climbed the roof and stretched into evening on the other side. By unspoken agreement, they avoided the subject of the investigation. Sam knew they’d have to discuss it eventually, but not right now. They all needed a break from it, a chance to let the bits and pieces of the enigma simmer in the backs of their brains. Maybe, Sam thought, it would all come together for him if he kept it at a distance for a while.
Sam kicked his shoes off and rested his feet on the railing, watching the sunset through half-closed eyelids. He felt lazy and content, something he’d not experienced very often in his life. Right then, he felt strong enough to face anything.
The dark blue SUV with “BCPI” stenciled on the doors pulled into the driveway just as the sun sank behind the pines. Bo jumped out and strode into the house without a word, slamming the door so hard the frame rattled. Amy trailed behind him, chewing her thumbnail and looking extremely frustrated.
David gaped at the still-trembling front door, then turned to Amy with a puzzled expression. “What the fuck was that all about?”
Amy sighed and shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”
She shot Sam a sidelong glance that spoke volumes. He pressed his fingertips to his temples, trying to will away the headache building behind his eyes. Whatever had brought on Bo’s foul mood, he knew it must have something to do with him. Bo had given Sam his answer. Sam was doing his best to move past it, to keep it from interfering with work. Bo wouldn’t have broached the subject, so Amy must have.
Why the fuck can’t you leave i
t alone? he thought irritably, giving Amy a dark look from underneath his lashes.
She didn’t seem to notice. “Well, I’m gonna go inside and get a quick shower,” she said.
“Is Bo cooking?” Cecile asked. “I could help.”
Amy smiled at her. “I’m sure he is, but trust me, you don’t want to go help him right now.”
“That’s true,” David agreed as Amy opened the door and went inside. “When Bo’s pissed off about something, it’s best to stay the hell out of his way and let him work it out himself.”
Cecile smiled, took David’s hand and kissed it. “Okay. I’ll defer to your superior knowledge of Bo’s habits.”
“That’s what I like about this woman,” David declared, grinning. “She talks so darn pretty, with those fifteen-dollar words.”
Cecile rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. When David grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a kiss, Sam looked away. It was sweet and lovely, and made him long to have that kind of playful, easy closeness for himself.
He deliberately ignored the little voice in his head that reminded him who he wanted that relationship with.
Twilight rose like a mist from the grass and tall pines, along with a creeping quiet. No crickets any longer, no bullfrogs, no whippoorwills. The silence hung thick and pulsing. Andre laughed, the sound loud and brash in the absence of the normal noises of a summer evening. Sam hunched in his chair, glancing furtively around the shadow-shrouded porch. Darkness swirled like a living presence in the corners. Sam half-expected a horror from his childhood nightmares to form in front of his eyes. The fear of it was like an itch between his shoulder blades.
“It’s so quiet,” Cecile said, staring out at the yard with wide eyes. “Let’s go back in now.”
“Okay.” David stood and pulled Cecile to her feet. “Dinner’s probably about ready anyhow.”
Andre chuckled as they all got up and trooped inside. “David always knows when there’s food.”