Hunter started to pace. “I haven’t a clue, but we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“It’s not a dream,” I said. “It’s real. I’m certain of it. It’s like they put us in a comatose state or something and then manipulate us.”
“Great,” Hunter said, his blue eyes blazing. “So we came to this fancy schmancy castle for school, and now these artsy ghosts are playing puppet master with us.”
“It’s crazy,” I said. “We need answers. People, we have one big paranormal mystery on our hands here. If we did open a portal somehow, we’ve gotta shut it somehow, then figure out what the dreams or possessions mean.”
Shantal looked at me. “We also have to figure out why you have a necklace Isabella was wearing in the paintings and why you look so much like her.”
“Most importantly,” Hunter cut in, “how is Zoey able to stop time?”
We all stared at each other, completely stumped, and I couldn’t stifle yet another yawn.
“Not much sleep for you either, huh?” Shantal asked.
“Nope. I was just telling Hunter I dreamt I was playing the piano all night.”
“Last night?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Whoa.”
“What?”
“Well, I walked down to the kitchen at around three a.m. for a glass of water, and I heard Beethoven coming from the music room. I figured I was just imagining it, and I was sort of too tired to care enough to check it out.”
I froze. “Really? I was playing Beethoven in my dream.”
“I heard it, Zoey!” she said. “It was beautiful. Do you think you’re just sleepwalking?”
“Even if I was, I don’t know how to play piano.”
Hunter cut in, “And it’s not just her. It’s us too. Like I told you, I’ve been painting, and you said you’ve been writing something. Are we all sleepwalking, dreaming, being possessed, or what? And if so, why?”
Chapter 22
Hunter and I sat on the concrete steps in front of the castle. I slid into his lap, and he took me in his arms.
“I’m so crazy about you,” he said. “It’s insane.”
I smiled.
He continued, “You mean everything to me, Zoey. It’s almost like I was brought here to meet you. I feel like we just…belong together.”
My heart almost leapt out of my mouth. I touched his face as tears welled in my eyes. Emotion choked my words, so all I could do was hug him and look at him lovingly. I felt so safe in his arms. His hugs were special, and I needed them and him far more than he knew.
“You’re so quiet. Did I say something wrong?” he asked. “Too much too soon?”
My hands began to tremble. “No,” I whispered, barely managing to get the word out. “IT was…beautiful. It touched my heart.”
He hugged me tighter. “I know you’re going through a lot right now, but I want you to know I’m always here for you.”
“Thank you, Hunter.”
No more words were spoken; we just held each other. It felt so good to be in his strong arms, and I never wanted him to let go.
When I finally composed myself, we chatted about everything, from the weather to food.
“I’m a great cook,” I said.
“Your mama taught you well then.”
I cleared my throat. “Um, no. My nanny.”
Hunter gazed at me. “Well, in any case, I’d love to taste anything you make.”
“I’d love to cook for you. My specialties are gumbo, red beans and rice, crispy fried crab cakes, and giant pots of crawfish. I learned last year and perfected my nanny’s recipe.”
He grinned. “You’re pulling my leg, right? Aren’t crayfish supposed to be left alone so they can swim in creeks?”
I laughed. “They’re like little lobsters, only much sweeter and not as chewy as shrimp.”
“Little lobsters, huh?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of sucking the head and pinching the tail?”
“Uh…can’t say I have.”
“After you peel the tail and eat it, you suck the head and—”
His eyes widened. “The brains? Gross!”
“It’s all fat, and it’s not gross at all. You just taste all the juices, flavor, and seasoning. There are also potatoes, ears of corn, smoked sausage, mushrooms, and cabbage in the crayfish stew, and it’s absolutely delicious.”
He shrugged. “Well, I’ll try anything once, especially if you cook it for me.”
I beamed. “Gotta love Southern traditions. Louisiana cooking is scrumptious.”
He nodded, then tapped his chin and looked at me in a most devilish way.
“What?” I asked.
He smiled widely.
“What?” I repeated.
“If I try your crayfish, will you try a Florida tradition?” he asked.
“In a heartbeat,” I said, certain he was talking about shrimp or blue crab.
He laughed. “You have no idea what you just signed up for.”
“Huh?”
He smirked, then met my gaze straight on. “Gator tail.”
“Are you for real?” I asked, certain he was teasing me.
“Oh yeah. Gator meat is delicious,” he said, wearing the most serious look. “I love it Cajun style.”
Now, it was my turn to scrunch up my face. “I’ve never pictured myself eating an alligator!”
“Well, I’ve never pictured myself eating those poor little crawdads outta the creek.”
I playfully nudged him. “I’d settle for some fresh-squeezed orange juice from the Sunshine State.”
He grinned. “It’s great, but it’s not half as sweet as you.”
I smiled back at him, at a loss for words.
“Wow. We’re really learning a lot about each other. This is fantastic. Tomorrow for breakfast, I’ll make you a glass of orange juice…with a huge plate of gator tails.”
I stared at him intently for a moment, wondering if he could actually pull it off with all the connections he had; after all, Hunter had the staff wrapped around his little finger.
He stared right back at me, serious for a moment, but then we both burst out in laughter. “I’ll eat it on one condition,” I finally said.
“What?”
“If you cook it.”
Hunter held up a hand. “Whoa! I never claimed to be a cook.”
We stared at each other, his face close to mine. I wanted to tell him how incredible he was, how much he meant to me, but I was sure he saw it in my eyes. He slowly leaned in, and our lips gently met in a soft kiss. He held the kiss for one long, magical moment, and it sent shockwaves sizzling through me, tickling every nerve in my body. Being so close to him was the most exciting thing I’d ever felt in my life.
Before, my life had been black and white, but Hunter had brought color into it. I was truly, deeply, madly in love with him, so much so that I felt lightheaded just being around him. My heart raced, and I couldn’t eat or concentrate. The butterflies wouldn’t go away. I’d never experienced feelings so intense before, and I never would have thought any guy could have such an effect on me. It was as if Cupid had sneaked up and shot me with some love potion-tipped arrow. My best friend back home had once told me that true love was something that I couldn’t look for, something that would just come naturally, and the girl couldn’t have been more right. Hunter was my accidental prince, and because of him, I had no regrets about being in a haunted castle. He wasn’t perfect, but I could easily overlook his faults, and he was worth any risk. I ran my hands through his tangle of messy hair as his lips gently touched my neck, sending a ripple of goosebumps cascading down my body. Definitely worth the risk, I thought, deciding I’d let my heart take the chance.
I jumped back as the castle doors opened, and a group of students filtered out.
“Hunter,” Brad said, “you’re not gonna believe it.” He then turned to me and said, “Hey, you don’t mind if we borrow him for a minute, do ya?”
I glanced up at hi
m and plastered on a fake smile. “He’s all yours,” I reluctantly said, furious at myself for not taking him to someplace more private. I completely understood why Hunter was so popular, but sometimes I got tired of not having him to myself.
“Zoey, are you sure?” Hunter said.
I shot him a grin. “It’s fine. We’ll catch up later.”
Brad pulled him out of earshot, and the two of them talked for a moment, then began laughing. My gaze traveled down Hunter’s profile, taking in every detail, from his shoulder-length hair, blowing in the wind, to his muscular frame, to that sexy leather jacket and those tight pants. I couldn’t help but grin slightly as I watched Hunter with his friends. He was so friendly, outgoing, and social, the complete opposite of me. He flashed that famous smile to the others as he listened intently, then burst out in laughter, followed by a fist-bump. I loved his deep laugh.
Part of me wanted to give up on my typical shyness and walk right over there and push my way into the conversation, but they had walked away for a reason. I admired how much people loved Hunter. He had a natural charm that made everyone adore him, but I often felt as if I simply didn’t measure up. Hunter didn’t even notice as I walked past the group and onto the cobblestone path.
***
A brisk wind blew through my hair, and I put my hands in my pocket. I loved breathing in the fresh air as the sun glistened on my face. From behind the bushes in the distance, I heard the distinctive he-onk of peacocks.
Ever since Hurricane Katrina, I had felt isolated, separated from the world. At times, I embraced my loneliness and fell prey to its icy grip, and those were the darkest times of all. I’d been laughing only a minute ago, but I’d suddenly fallen into a depression once again. I didn’t know where the feelings came from, but I knew they were connected to the life I was trying to run away from. I had survived that storm, but living through it had changed me. My life was always normal before, but the deadliest, most destructive Atlantic storm had tried to wash it all away.
I was visiting friends when Katrina struck. Glancing out the window, I stared at the levee as it broke. We tried to get out, but the wind was so strong we couldn’t get the door open; we had no strength to push against 100-MPH winds. The water flooded the house in seconds. Someone busted a window so we could get out, but a gush of water hit us square in the face. I was caught in the undertow, and I blacked out. When I awoke, I was gasping for breath, being carried away with all the other debris. I managed to grab a tree branch, and some people threw a strand of Christmas lights out into the water and pulled me to safety on the roof of a building, where I spent almost a week. I later learned that everyone else in the building had died. I had no idea why or how I’d lived to tell the tale, but I carried a great deal of guilt for being the sole survivor.
That thought ate at me every day, and I even shut out all my family and friends back home. I had come to the castle hoping to escape all that, hoping I would find relief in a place where no one knew me or anything about my past. I didn’t want anyone to pity me anymore, to look at me as the poor girl who had almost died with twenty others. On that fateful day, I had earned a nickname, “the miracle child,” which the local newspaper mentioned often. I hated that, and I wanted to be in a place where no one saw me as anything other than a normal girl.
I sucked in a deep breath and refused to let the grim feelings conquer me yet again. I knew I was stronger than that silly depression, and I was prepared to squash it when it reared its ugly head. I needed to think about something beautiful and uplifting, and Hunter burst into my mind like a rainbow after a downpour. That made me smile and instantly put me in the best of moods.
I strolled around for a while and ended up in Pam’s room. “Are you okay?” I asked my friend, noticing that she was uncharacteristically disheveled, walking around in a long white t-shirt and looking like a hot mess.
She bit her lip and looked at me. “Why?” she asked, her voice shaky.
“Well, for starters, it isn’t like you to have that whole bride of Frankenstein hairdo going on. No offense, but it looks like you haven’t run a brush through it in a week.”
“Something’s wrong,” she said.
“What?”
She opened her palm to reveal several small blisters on her hands.
“What happened?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“How can you not know? What have you been doing with your hands?”
She blew out a breath. “Well, in my dreams, I’ve been sculpting, creating masterpieces.”
“You mentioned that before. Why are we dreaming this weird stuff? Shantal said she heard somebody playing Beethoven when she went down for a drink of water, and that was exactly what I was playing in my dream.”
“Why didn’t she go investigate?”
“She thought she was imagining it or that it was just one of the teachers,” I said. “In her dreams, she writes things, and she doesn’t even know what she’s writing. Hunter’s been dreaming too. He paints.”
We stared at each other, completely stumped. We weren’t sure if we were just dreaming or if we were all involved in some sort of shared hallucination.
“It’s the spirits,” she said. “Plain and simple, they’re possessing us.”
“I’m not so sure. I mean, it seems silly to possess us just to play piano, sculpt, write, and paint. If the castle spirits want our help, why would they keep pissing us off and depriving us of sleep?”
She started brushing her long hair, tortuously moving the brush through huge rats and wincing in pain. “Maybe bad spirits have come through the portal, like I said before.”
“Even if there are demons or malevolent spirits, I don’t think the dreams are them. Why would they waste their time making us write poetry or play piano?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure they wrote that scary message on the bathroom mirror.”
“I have no doubt about that,” I agreed.
She threw her hair into a long ponytail. “Can you imagine the battle going on between the portal spirits and the castle spirits?”
“I bet it’s epic.”
Pam stared at me, then looked away.
“What is it?”
“I’m still freaked out about the time-stopping thing.”
“I’m not good at this paranormal stuff either.”
“Zoey, I’ve been thinking. You can deny it all you want, but you have some kind of paranormal gift, just like your mom. Only you could activate that magic rock.”
“It’s just an ancient gemstone, Pam, a sapphire.”
“Is it? Then how did you freeze time with it?”
“All I did was touch it.”
“Exactly. That was all it took.”
“Oh my gosh. What’s going on around here? Magic rocks, ghosts, and stopping time? It’s like some kind of mixed-up episode of Dr. Who Meets Indiana Jones,” I said, contemplating her words.
“Yeah, but the trouble is…it’s all too real.”
Chapter 23
Excited to have a few minutes alone with Hunter, I walked past the stunning display of weapons in the corridor and entered the room where he’d asked me to meet him.
My gaze drifted around the room. I glanced up at the gothic, wrought-iron chandelier, an eye-catching piece that really made a statement. The castle was full of Scottish cultural history, from its antique furnishings and family portraits to beautiful landscape paintings and expensive treasures. I was blown away every time I entered a new room, and I couldn’t believe they just let us walk around among all those precious and irreplaceable artifacts. I knew I was privileged to be living in a castle, especially since I was dating my very own prince.
I sat down on a vintage loveseat with a distressed antique gold wood frame and cream-colored upholstery. As I sat there, I pondered about my prince. Hunter invaded my thoughts constantly. Yep, I’m a goner, I realized. I’d fallen for him completely, yet I was also a bit scared about the whole thing. So much in my life had fallen apart
before, and I’d suffered many losses. I couldn’t help being terrified that our relationship might crash and burn. That scared me more than anything, because I was sure I’d never survive that kind of heartbreak. Nevertheless, I had to try, to put myself out there, because Hunter was worth the risk. I had met a man who blew my mind, and I couldn’t possibly let go. He was so different from anyone I’d ever met, and while it felt somewhat uncomfortably out of control to be falling so hard for him, I also felt incredibly alive. Falling in love was such a crazy experience. My man was on my mind all the time, and I couldn’t seem to shift my thoughts to much of anything else. I was a teenager, and my hormones were all over the place. I hated when my other was right, but she was certainly right about that.
Nothing was just about me anymore. I had Hunter to think about, and I wanted to be there for him if he needed me. I would do anything to see him happy, because his smile meant the world to me. That was a whole new feeling for me, because I’d always been somewhat of a loner. In the castle, though, I’d made some really great friends, and that was one of the reasons I did not want to leave. For some reason, I had connected with Hunter and the others on a deeper level than I’d ever connected with anyone else, and even though some scary things were going on, I wasn’t ready to walk away from my friends. I was mesmerized by the place, an experience that the average seventeen-year-old would not get to have, and I didn’t want to leave my friends and run back home in defeat.
My blue-eyed guy walked in and instantly brightened my day. His shaggy hair was damp, and he smelled good, like pine and musk. He looked great in his blue jeans and a white shirt beneath his black leather jacket that gave him a bad boy vibe. Hunter was always put together, and he was the cutest guy I’d ever laid eyes on. He was dangerously sexy and irresistible, and the best part as that he was all mine.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.”
I jumped up, and he pulled me close and brushed his lips against mine. My heart raced at his glorious touch.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” I parroted, lost in his eyes. It felt like a beautiful dream, but I knew it was real—so real that I literally blushed in his arms.
Enchanted Dreams - Book 3 (The Enchanted Castle Series) Page 12