James wasn’t certain how to respond. Should he tell all or keep it to himself? “There were three more in the old mill when I got Emma out of there, and one who was under control but not turned. He was used as a sentinel. He was the man who had grabbed Emma, the lifeguard named Miller,” James said after a long moment, deciding to tell.
“Yes, I remember him,” Doc said thoughtfully. “Did you kill them all?” Doc asked.
James couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. Despite his past, he’d never before talked about his work with anyone who wasn’t another hunter. And Doc talked about it as casually as if they were talking about the weather. “Yes, before I burned the mill to make sure they were destroyed.”
“Good.” He looked hard at James. “You came here that night, too. I had never seen you on the island before then.”
“I knew it was here.”
“It?”
“The evil—the vampire,” he explained. “I came to hunt it and kill it. I’m sorry I came too late,” James admitted.
Doc swallowed hard. “And did you succeed?”
“No,” James said through a dry mouth. “It slipped away while I saved Emma and destroyed the others at the mill.”
“You think it’s back, don’t you?” Doc asked, his voice no more than a whisper.
“I don’t know,” James was forced to admit. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. We don’t even know how these women died. I only know what I feel, and I feel that something horrific is here, something possibly worse than a vampire.” He paused. “Doc, vampires have many different abilities. They can do much more than drink blood and turn mortals into vampires.”
Doc swallowed hard. James saw his Adam’s apple move.
“Can they do this?” Doc asked.
“I think perhaps a powerful one can,” James replied.
Doc met his gaze. “I see,” he said slowly. “Perhaps after I have a look at Glenda, we’ll know something more.” Then Doc looked at him thoughtfully. “But you think it’s back?” he asked again. “Do you think it’s the same one as before?”
“I think, perhaps, yes.”
“So do I. Don’t ask me how I know. I just know that when I looked at Jillian McComb, I thought of Mary. I thought of the terror of that night. I thought of Emma and how she couldn’t sleep for weeks unless I sedated her, and how she’s terrified of the dark. Only that kind of terror could put such an expression on the faces of these young women,” Doc said. “And James?”
“What?”
“What if he never left?”
That thought was so disturbing James didn’t even want to consider it. Wouldn’t he have seen signs? Wouldn’t he have felt the fear, as he so readily did? It was, after all, how he’d managed to hunt bad vampires for centuries, almost as long as he’d been a vampire himself. He would have sensed something. “I certainly hope that hasn’t been the case. If it is, he’s managed to hide himself very well, and that would make him extremely powerful. Can I take you home?” James asked. He didn’t want to talk anymore. He wanted to go home and spend the next few hours lying next to Emma. The clinic was too quiet, eerie and full of shadows. Yet, James didn’t want to leave Doc here alone.
“No, thank you. I think I’ll just curl up on the sofa in my office and take a nap. I’m tired, but I don’t think I’ll sleep anyway. And there’s not much use in going home, only to come right back after a few hours.”
“You’re sure?”
The old man nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ll lock the door when you leave. I’ve got a CD player in my office. I’ll just put on some nice music, and if I can’t sleep, I’ll get some paperwork finished. There’s always an abundance of that.”
Despite his better judgment, James walked toward the clinic’s entrance, Doc accompanying him.
As Doc stood in the eye of the automatic door, not allowing it to close when James stepped away, Doc said, “Emma loves pancakes for breakfast, and hot chocolate.”
James couldn’t help grinning. “Thanks for the tip.”
Doc moved to the side and allowed the door to slide closed. As James watched, the old man then used his key to lock it.
Minutes later, James was on his way back home where Emma waited. Hopefully, she never awoke and found him gone. He didn’t, however, look forward to breaking the news of another death to her. The wind had picked up, and the night was cold. And just before he reached his driveway, misty rain began to land on his windshield.
James heard Emma’s moans as he entered the house through the laundry room off the garage. With the same unimaginable speed he’d used to answer the phone before, he raced to the living room.
Emma was still on the floor, but the soft, cotton throw he’d left draped over her was tossed aside as she rolled about and let out moan after terrified moan. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see she was trapped in the middle of a nightmare.
“Emma?” he said softly, contemplating the idea of waking her, thinking that could make things worse for her in the long run. He should never have allowed her to talk so much earlier, He hated himself for letting her drudge up so many tucked-away memories that could trigger her nightmares. But he’d had no choice. He’d needed answers.
“No . . . No . . .” Emma let out.
James knelt beside her, deciding not to wake her. He thought perhaps it was time to take a look inside her nightmares. Maybe he could help her fight off whatever demons she had to fight in them. If she managed to fight them off and kill them within the dream, it might end them once and for all.
Gently, he placed the fingertips of his hands to each of her temples. When she tried to toss and turn her head away, he held her still and closed his eyes. Sending his energy into her as if he were pouring it through a funnel, he entered her thoughts, needing to go deep to reach the subconscious level of her dream. Technically, this would have been easier to do with an awake person because the conscious level was easier to touch. But with James’s experience, maturity and control, this wasn’t hard.
He took a few deep breaths, and within a matter of seconds he reached her dream state. He wasn’t surprised to find she dreamed in vivid color, despite the darkness of the room and the various shades of gray. Even though he knew this was nothing more than a dream, the room was filled with the musty odor of disuse. Yet, with his uncanny perception, he was able to see everything clearly. He recognized the room. It was the one in the old mill where he’d rescued her.
In her dream, Emma was in the same condition as he’d found her five years before, bound to a small bed, the mattress nothing but jagged tatters of cloth. She fought and struggled against the binds on her wrists and ankles. What was different about the dream was that she fought to escape the dark form on the bed with her. When James had found her five years ago, the monster who had hurt her was already gone, and she was alone but still screaming.
James moved in a flash to grab the monster that held her, that hurt her. He wanted to slay it as a knight slays a dragon. That way, Emma could see the creature killed, and it could no longer haunt her. Yet, when he reached for it, his hands slipped right through it as though the form had no substance. In the dream, Emma began to scream, taking James back to that night five years before when her screams had pierced his heart.
Because the form was a figment of her imagination, it was nothing to him. He couldn’t fight it, couldn’t touch it. Couldn’t destroy it.
Her screams echoed through the dank room. James looked down at her and saw her eyes tightly closed. The truth touched him like cold fingers in the hot room. That was how she’d avoided becoming like the others, with pointed little teeth thirsting for blood. She had refused to allow the creature to look into the window of her soul. It was also why the creature was unreal in her dream. Because she hadn’t looked upon it, she didn’t know what kind of monster to put into her nightmare.
For that reason, James couldn’t help her. Just as he hadn’t been able to help her in reality five years before.
Frustrated, he tried a new tactic. He had to get her out of that room. The creature of her nightmare lived there. James might not be able to kill it, but if he could help her escape, he could keep her safe from it.
He moved to the small bed, ignoring her screams, and untied her. She was real; he could touch her. Yet, just as he couldn’t grasp the creature, it couldn’t touch him. He leaned down, close to her ear. “Emma, I’m here with you. It’s me, James. Take my hand,” he said.
“It won’t let me go,” she screamed as she turned her face toward him, still keeping her eyes tightly closed.
“Just take my hand. Do you trust me?”
She opened her eyes and looked up at him, never looking at the monster. “Yes.”
The creature growled in protest. James ignored it.
“Listen to my voice. You’re untied, just take my hand.” He could take them both out of this room, but she had to make the choice to leave. She had to reach out to him.
She grasped his hand with a strength that might have broken his fingers in reality. But now, as they held hands, Emma was real. He was real. With the power of his mind, he could take both of them anywhere. He wanted to take her somewhere safe. He thought of her bedroom or her pool. They were both safe places for her, but he didn’t want to invade her havens. Still within the dream, he brought her back to his own living room where she had felt safe enough to share her thoughts and then fall asleep in the warmth of his fire.
A fire burned brightly in the fireplace. The room held the same scent as the candles James knew Emma burned around her pool when she swam. In the dream James created, the two of them lay on a soft down comforter and several pillows before the fire. It was James’s goal to take away all her fear, to show her the other side of the spectrum she’d already experienced. Doc may not think anything had happened to her, but James knew that something horrifying had. And it was time for James to help her let it go.
“Emma?” the dream James said to the dream Emma. “Look at me.”
Emma opened her eyes and looked up at him. Then she looked around the room. “We aren’t in that room anymore.”
“No.”
Her eyes widened in fear. “Is he here?” She looked around again.
“No,” James said again. “He can’t come here. This is a safe place.”
She sat up and melted into his embrace. As she pressed against him, he felt the tension, the fear in her. She was rigid with terror. Gently, he laid her back. “Just relax,” he said.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You trusted me enough to take my hand and let me bring you here. Do you trust me now, Emma?” He knew she did. She wouldn’t be here with him if she didn’t. Still, he had to continue to hear her say the word, just as he knew she had to keep saying it.
“Yes. Why?”
“I want to show you something, and I don’t want you to be afraid. I don’t ever want you to fear me.”
“All right,” she replied hesitantly.
He was so close to her, he felt her heart beating fast in her chest. He closed his eyes and dreamed his clothes gone. In an instant, he lay beside her clothed only by firelight.
She tried to move away. With one hand gently on her chest, he held her in place. “How did you do that?” she asked, her voice barely more than a gasped whisper. She even averted her eyes and looked away from him.
He moved the hand that rested on her chest to her face and turned her head back, making her look at him. “This is now our dream. We can do whatever we want, make whatever we want happen. Don’t be afraid to look at me, Emma. Don’t be afraid to touch me,” he said softly. “I won’t hurt you. Look at me, all of me. Touch me, feel me, everywhere.”
She lay still beneath him, hardly more than a statue, her soft, blond hair fanning out about her. Her breathing sounded loud in the room.
“Trust me,” he said. Then he leaned down and gently placed his lips on hers.
At first, she merely lay beneath him, her lips still and lifeless. Then, as he remained there, warming her, just touching her, allowing her to take her time and adjust to him, she molded to him and kissed him back. James felt her need flow into him like hot fire, as if she’d suddenly let loose of all the passion she’d held inside her for the past five years.
She wore the sundress she’d worn five years before. It was dirty and ragged from her time on the old bed in that dusty room, just as it had been when James had carried her to Doc. It was time he got rid of that rag once and for all. She’d worn it in too many nightmares since. “I’m going to remove your dress,” he said softly. “And I don’t want you to ever wear it again.”
“All right,” she whispered.
When he waved his hand over her, her dress disappeared, leaving her in nothing but a silky pair of pink panties. James thought they were the sexiest garment he’d ever seen. “You are beautiful,” he told her. Her body was as he’d dreamed it would be, lithe from all her workouts, her breasts small and perfect, and her legs long, strong and shapely.
The smile she offered him was small and hesitant.
He took that as an invitation to touch her, but he warned her first. “I’m going to touch you,” he said softly. And before she could change her mind or refuse or change the dream, he slowly moved his hand up the length of her, relishing in the softness and warmth of her skin. Once he reached her breast, he filled his hand with it. Then he tasted it, drawing a gasp from her. He loved the way she arched against him. He loved the way the firelight reflected off her light skin and gave her a glowing appearance. He loved the way she looked up at him with passion and desire and need and, most of all, trust in her eyes.
He didn’t make those panties dreamily disappear. He slowly peeled them down her long legs, touching her with the backs of his fingers and staring deeply into her eyes. Emma was like warm putty in his hands. The room was hot, almost too hot with Emma warm beneath his hands, but he didn’t bother changing the dream to calm the fire or cool the room. He concentrated on the woman beneath him.
“I want you to know how good this can be,” he said.
“I want that, too,” she whispered. “With you, James, only you. I’ve never wanted this with anyone else. Your hands feel wonderful. I want you to keep touching me.”
That was all he needed to hear. He grinned at her. Then he leaned down and brought his lips to hers again. She tasted sweet. When she moaned into his mouth, it was music to his ears. This might only be a dream, but it wasn’t a nightmare, and she was open to him.
With his fingers, his palms, he touched every inch of her—her arms, her ribs, and her flat belly. Never taking his hands from her, he moved his kiss down her body. At her throat where her pulse raced and beat against his lips, he paused. Then he moved farther, taking first one nipple then the other into his mouth, bringing them both to hard peaks as he brought another moan from her lips.
She giggled when he reached her belly button, and he felt the shiver that passed through her. Gently, he moved her legs apart as he kissed the most sensitive spot on her body. She gasped and attempted to pull away. He held her legs and raised up to look into her eyes again.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
He saw her swallow hard. “Yes,” she let out, her single word no more than a whisper of breath.
“Then relax, you’ll like this.”
She did like it. And the sounds she made because of his touch were delightful.
“James?”
Her voice was rough, husky, and it heightened the excitement that surged through him. “Yes?”
“I feel—”
He understood what she was feeling. And he wanted to be right there, feeling it with her. Slowly, never taking his gaze from hers, he moved to settle over her.
“Passion,” he whispered. “You’re feeling the pleasure of passion. Do you understand now that it doesn’t have to hurt, and that I would never hurt you?”
“Yes,” she let out. She moved her warm fingertips over him, across his back, down
his arms, and over his chest.
“Keep touching me,” he told her.
She laughed. Her laughter was deep and throaty and nearly sent his desire over the edge. “I’d love to.”
He kissed her lips again, slow and longing, before he slipped inside her and made her a part of himself.
Her gasp now was a gasp of pleasure. She opened her eyes wide and stared up at him. “That feels . . .”
“Exquisite?” he finished for her.
“Yes.”
“Perfect?” He had dreamed she would fit him perfectly. He felt the graze of her nails on his back.
“Yes.”
“Wonderful?”
“Yes.”
“And we’ve hardly begun.”
He kissed her one last time, fully, passionately, drinking in her exotic taste. “You are meant to be mine,” he said softly. She smiled up at him.
Knowing that the dream would continue for Emma, James drew out of the fantasy he’d created for them. He left, having no doubt that the dream James would well satisfy the dream Emma since that was what the awake James would do if given the chance. Again, he found himself on the floor near her. He took his fingertips from her face. The living room was dark and cold. As before, they were both fully dressed.
Emma slept peacefully. The soft sigh she let out now was no longer filled with fear, and James couldn’t mistake the small smile that remained on her lips. Yes, the dream James was probably having the time of his life. The awake James sighed and wished to hell he wasn’t so gallant.
He lay down beside her and carefully took her in his arms without waking her. He told himself he should be glad the dream was finished. He wanted the full experience, the real thing, not a dream. And his want was even stronger than when he’d first held her in his arms. He worked to control his breathing. Leaving her at that point was probably one of the hardest things he’d ever done. But he knew it was the right thing.
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