Hunted (34 page)

I
opened my mouth, but Brad interjected a dose of humor into the
conversation. "You know, I'm starting to feel like a poor
substitute for Tristan. If you keep talking like that, I'll tell him
to just date you and I'll go find someone else to date who's happy to
settle for me instead of shooting for the proverbial moon."

Sally
hit Brad in the arm, harder than before, but still probably not hard
enough to leave bruises or anything.

"You
know I'd rather be with you than Tristan. He's rich and gorgeous, but
you're pretty hot yourself and you're way more fun than he is because
you don't take yourself so seriously all of the time."

The
rest of the drive went by quickly. Sally and Brad still carried the
conversation, but things weren't as strained as they'd been before.
I'd started out the trip just hoping that I'd make it home without
anything bad happening along the way. I hadn't expected to find out
that Tristan was an even better guy than I'd realized.

It
didn't really change the big picture at all. Alec still completed me
in ways that Tristan never could, and I didn't want to destroy
Cindi's hopes by dating someone she had her heart set on, but now I
felt a lot worse about some of the things I'd said to Tristan along
the way.

By
the time that Brad and Sally dropped me off I was starting to wonder
if Tristan had used some kind of code during the brief phone call
when he'd asked Brad to take me home. I'd been listening to the
entire conversation, Tristan's half at least, and I knew he hadn't
said anything outright about me being scared, but Brad was awfully
willing to stay with me until Tristan got back in town.

All
I could figure was that Brad was just more perceptive than most guys,
but luckily he still bought my assurances that I'd be fine. Even so,
he and Sally waited until I'd grabbed the spare key and let myself
inside the house before they backed out of the driveway and drove
away.

I
watched them go as I locked the front door and then I walked around
the house double-checking that every single door and window was
closed and secured. It only took a couple of minutes to confirm that
I was as safe as I was going to get, at which point I started to calm
down a little.

I
was home, the doors were locked, I had my phone so I could always
call 911 if I needed to and then just hope that the police made it to
my house before Jackson kidnapped me or killed me, or whatever it was
he was planning on doing.

Apparently
I'd been running on pure adrenaline because as soon as I sat down a
crushing, bone-deep exhaustion swept through me. I couldn't ever
remember being so tired at any other point in my life, but something
pulled at me, refusing to let me go to sleep. I realized what was
missing just before the last of my strength poured out of me.

I
needed to warn Cindi. If Jackson was really the old man, then he'd
know that I'd turn myself in to save Cindi. I had to keep her safe if
I was going to be safe myself.

Cindi
still didn't have a phone, but it was a good bet that she and Missy
had gotten together by now. Calling Missy's phone number was the last
thing I really wanted to do—even if Cindi was with her I was
going to get an earful before I'd possibly be able to get my message
out—but I had to at least try.

Missy's
number was still in my call history. I dialed it and waited as it
rang twice, at which point I was sent to voicemail.

"This
is Missy, but then you already know that, don't you? You know the
drill."

I
waited for the beep and then let the words just tumble out of my
mouth in an effort to get them all out before I lost my battle with
sleep.

"Missy,
if you have any way to get ahold of Cindi please tell her to be
careful and to stay away from Jackson. I'll explain later. Look, I
know you hate me right now, but I didn't start all of this. Please
just tell Cindi if you can."

A
huge yawn forced its way past my lips as I struggled to get the last
word or two out. I blindly stabbed the disconnect button. I didn't
remember lying down, but I was already on the couch in the living
room. I had a moment to be grateful that I'd gone ahead and cleaned
it up earlier that morning, and then sleep claimed me.

I
realized my mistake as soon as I saw my new surroundings. I'd fallen
asleep and let myself start dream walking. I immediately tried to
shift so that I was transparent similar to what the Native American had done
the last time I'd seen him, but my skin simply turned gray for a
heartbeat or two before lapsing back to its normal color.

If
I'd been in my own dream I'd have been able to accomplish the
transformation and even more, but even here I should have been able
to at least change my own appearance. Changing myself was always the
easiest thing to accomplish. The fact that I couldn't manage even the
slightest change right now couldn't be good. It had to either be
because I was too tired still after my dream walk with Alec, or
because I was inside the dream of someone whose mind was even more
disciplined than the old man's had been.

I
needed to get out, get back to my own dream, but I already knew from
past experience that I was hit-and-miss when it came to that. I
looked around at my surroundings, trying to find somewhere to hide,
and my heart sank.

I
was standing in the middle of a huge plain of uneven black glass. It
looked like the glass had been there for a long time, because it was
cracked in some places and I could see where the cracks had ground
against each other like miniature fault lines in the Earth's crust.

I
took a tentative step forward and shards of glass crunched underneath
my feet. Thankfully I'd come into the dream wearing sneakers, but
that was the only thing about my appearance that was helpful. I was
dressed back in my cheerleading uniform, the dark blue one that Cindi
and Missy had destroyed, and I was uncomfortably close to being just
as skinny here in the dream as I actually was right now in real life.

I
touched my cheeks with my fingers and they felt exactly like they did
each night when I washed my face. I was out of time and I knew it. I
finally saw a bigger crack in the ground a hundred yards or so away
and took a step towards it, thinking it would provide at least a
little concealment while I tried to rip myself free of this
nightmare.

Ribbons
of agony lit up in my foot. I looked down and saw that my sneakers
had disappeared, leaving the bottom of my foot to be savaged by the
razor-edged shards of glass I'd just stepped on. My lunch started to
come back up at the thought of walking across that distance without
shoes, but I couldn't think of any other option.

I
took another step and was watching this time as my shoe disappeared.
Knowing it was coming just made the pain worse, but I gritted my
teeth and forced myself to take yet another step. I looked down again
and the sight of the bright-red, bloody footprints I was leaving
behind nearly pushed me over the edge. I had to close my eyes for a
second and focus just on my breathing and even then I still almost
threw up.

With
my eyes closed it was easier to ignore what was happening to my feet.
The pain was just signals traveling along damaged nerves, it didn't
mean anything, wouldn't mean anything once I was awake again. I'd
completely ruined my nails in that one dream and just had to deal
with a little bit of phantom pain the next day. As long as I didn't
die here I'd be okay, and I was pretty sure it would take a while to
bleed to death from the lacerations on my feet.

Keeping
my eyes closed helped me endure the pain, but a few steps later I
tripped and fell. I tried to catch myself with my hands, but
remembered at the last second what that would do to them and jerked
them back out of the way. I landed on my right side with enough force
to knock the wind out of me and then rolled over onto my back.

More
blood soaked through my uniform from the new cuts on my shoulder and
side and I suddenly realized that the pain was going to make it even
harder than normal to leave this dream and get back to reality.

I
tried to roll back to my feet, only I couldn't because someone had
put their foot on my throat. It was the wax lady. There was no way
that she should have been able to follow me like that without me
realizing she'd been there, but somehow she'd done it. She'd watched
while I tried to make it to safety, possibly she'd even been the
reason my shoes had disappeared, and she'd obviously enjoyed it based
on the cruel smile that was the only part of her face that wasn't
melted into a featureless blob.

"I
almost couldn't believe it when he called to tell me that it was you
all along, Adri Paige. You have no idea how much effort I've expended
over the last few weeks trying to find you. He practically worked
himself into a frenzy tonight after realizing the way that you'd
fooled him for so long. They both did, and they hardly ever see eye
to eye anymore."

Acting
with no more feeling than a normal person would squish a bug, the wax
lady stomped down on my stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of
me.

"My
name is Pamela, but you will address me as Master."

My
diaphragm had unclenched enough for me to breathe again and I even
managed to talk. "How do you know that I'm really Adri? I can
change my shape inside the dream, you know."

She
kicked me in the kidney, but there still wasn't any rancor in it yet,
it was like she was disciplining a dog. "Oh, I'm quite positive
that it's you, Adri. I'm sitting outside your house hidden in some
bushes and I'm only partly dreaming. A portion of my mind is here
with you, but the other half is watching this little scene unfold
from inside of your mind. Nothing you do can surprise me at this
point and the fear coursing through your system over the last few
minutes has amply proved that you're the prey I've been hunting."

She
looked at me once again, surveying my bloody clothes and damaged feet
before nodding to herself.

"I
believe it's time to conduct the rest of this interview face to
face."

A
chill ran up my back and came to rest somewhere at the base of my
neck. She was talking about breaking into my house and if she really
was right outside like she'd said, then there was no way that anyone
could get there to save me before she made it inside.

It
was crazy, I wasn't at any less of a disadvantage here than I was
fighting against her in the real world, but as she closed her eyes to
concentrate I kicked her in the stomach. There wasn't much power
behind it, but the blow caught her completely by surprise and I was
profoundly grateful for how much more flexible I was after a few
weeks of cheerleading.

Normally
I would have said it would be impossible for me to kick someone while
lying on the ground like that, but adrenaline gave me the extra push
I needed and I doubled her up enough that she collapsed to the
ground, taking gashes of her own against the unforgiving glass in the
process.

I
half turned to run away in the hope that doing so would allow me to
escape back to the real world, but before I'd even taken my first
step I realized that was the wrong thing to be doing. I needed to
keep her here in the dream for as long as possible. It was unlikely
it would make any difference in the end, but there was a very slight
chance that if I could keep her busy for long enough Tristan would
arrive at my house before she could come get me.

It
put Tristan in all kinds of danger, but I had to at least try. Maybe
she wasn't as scary as some of the other supernatural creatures out
there, maybe her abilities didn't include the kind of increased speed
and strength that the Native American had demonstrated.

I
turned back towards her and as I stepped forward I kicked her as hard
as I could in the stomach. This time it wasn't a cheerleader kick
that was thrown primarily from the hip, this time I kicked her like I
would have kicked a soccer ball and the force of the impact knocked
her over onto her left side.

I'd
obviously knocked the wind out of her, but as I hauled back for
another kick, this one to her face, her hands blurred forward so that
they were between us. She caught my kick, still moving faster than
I'd ever seen anyone else move before, and dumped me on the ground.

I
was completely unprepared, so I hit hard enough that I saw stars, but
I tried to get back to my feet as quickly as possible. Being trapped
on the ground was the worst possible place to be when it came to a
fight like this, but even before I'd stopped sliding across the glass
she jumped on top of me, trapping me against the ground with her
weight.

"You've
got more fight in you than I expected. That's good. It means that the
next few months and years are going to be a lot more unpleasant for
you than they otherwise would have been, but I've found that people
with spirit tend to make the best slaves once I've finally managed to
break their will."

We
were both incredibly bloody by now and she had a stream of blood
dripping down into one eye, but it didn't seem to bother her, at
least not much. She blew at it, kind of like you'd do to clear a
stray hair that was tickling the side of your nose, but she didn't
release my hands to wipe it away like I would have been tempted to
do.

"I
owe you a slight debt of gratitude. Just now I was ready to come get
you in the flesh, but that would have been a mistake, a lost
opportunity if you will. I'll be punishing you quite a lot for the
next little while and those kinds of things will take a lot out of
your poor human body. Here I can punish you over and over again and I
suspect that you'll be just fine tomorrow morning. It's a rare
advantage that I hadn't fully appreciated up until now."