The Nightmare Game (59 page)

We ran through the door, slamming it shut behind
us, into the tunnel. No sooner had the door shut than a dark cloud of fog
enveloped us, surrounding us on all sides. Even though Ben had been holding my
arm, his hand once again disappeared completely. Slowly now, blindly, I walked
with my arms outstretched, not as sure as I had been the last time when we were
separated at the tomb. I called out to the others, but there was no answer.
Alone now, I felt my way around as I stepped forward with caution, touching the
ground to make sure that it was there before putting my weight down. I had no
idea where I was going, if I was going in the right direction or if there even
there was a right direction. But the knowledge that I’d start to panic if I
didn’t keep moving kept me going. For awhile, the ground was even with no
surprises but suddenly, after walking for awhile, I stopped, afraid to take one
more step. I stayed put, not knowing if any ground existed except for the patch
upon which I was standing. Then it, too, disappeared. The thought had just
enough time to sink in when gravity took over and I began to fall.

The surface upon which I landed was thankfully
soft, but no sooner had I stopped falling than I became enveloped by the now
ubiquitous fog, which rapidly developed into a thick blanket that constricted
my every movement like a mushy cage. The fog then turned gummy, a substance
against which the more I fought, the more tightly I was trapped. I could not
break free of this force that now engulfed me to the point of paralysis.

I tried to scream, but my screams were muffled, as
if I were screaming underwater. After struggling for some time, I broke free of
my bonds and my screams became piercing. As soon as I was able to become calm
again, I opened my eyes, only to find that I was in a darkened room, lying in
bed in my own nightgown, drenched with sweat.

Sitting up in bed, I realized that I was back at
the apartment in New Orleans. I felt disoriented. With a start, I realized that
I was not alone, for I heard people whispering in the other room. My first
instinct was to call out for Ben and Illea, but thought the better of it, for I
didn’t know who would answer. I was pretty sure that it wasn’t the creatures,
at least, because the whispering seemed to involve a conversation more complex
than “help me”.

I had to wonder, though, who were these whispering
people and what were they doing here? If I wasn’t going to draw undue attention
to myself, I needed to get out of bed and see for myself. However, before I
could even throw off the covers, an older woman appeared in the doorway.
Rochere. It was Rochere, in the guise in which she had appeared when I first
met her. I did not get up.

“Why, hello, honey,” she said sweetly from the
doorway. “I’m so glad that you’re finally awake.”

Rochere then turned her attention to the other
room.

“It’s okay, sugar. She’s awake,” she said to the
mysterious other person. “She seems fine now. No need to call 911.”

To me, she said from the doorway, “You had us
quite worried there for a while, Miss Adams. We were on the verge of calling an
ambulance, but apparently, your fever finally broke.”

When I had no response, she continued, so cool that
butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, “Miss Adams, do you remember me? I’m Miss
Rochere, the landlady of this apartment. We met when you came into town. You
got the keys from me.”

“I remember you,” I said bluntly.

“Good. That’s a very good sign indeed,” she said
sweetly, but I wasn’t buying it. “We were so worried about you, my dear. The
maid came in to clean and she found you in bed, sweating bullets and running a
high fever. She said you seemed to be delirious. Why, we were just about to
call the ambulance to take you to the hospital when your fever broke.

“You know, I had a feeling that something was
wrong with you when you were in my office. It’s why I didn’t want to let you go
too soon. If only I’d have known that you were as sick as you were, I’d have kept
you there a little longer and then we could have gotten you straight to the
hospital.”

“I’m fine now,” I answered, even more bluntly.
What kind of con game was Rochere trying to pull this time?

“Oh, Ashley,” she said. “I hope you’re up to
meeting my nephew. I absolutely must get back to the office now. He can keep an
eye on you to see if you’ll feel good enough to be left alone.”

“Your nephew?” I asked.

“Why yes, dear. You saw him at my office
yesterday. You were going out while he was coming in. You don’t remember him?
I’m sure that’s just because you were feeling so unwell. He’s here now because
he was at my office when the maid came by to tell us how ill you were.”

“The maid,” I said. “You mean Brenda?”

“Why no, dearie,” Rochere smiled. “Her name’s Judy.
Where on earth did you get Brenda?”

“She told me herself that her name was Brenda,” I
said, losing my patience with this new charade. “Do you think she lied about
her name? I sure don’t.”

“Why, hon, we don’t even have a Brenda working for
us. Never have had, either. My goodness, you must have had a ‘fever dream’
while you were out. Goodness only knows that your temperature was high enough
to make you hallucinate. Anyway, my nephew is right outside in the other room.
He’s been very worried about you. Are you up to meeting him so that I can get
back to the office? I mean, do you feel decent enough for him to stick his head
in the door and say ‘hi’?”

“Sure,” I said, recognizing that none of this was
real. “I’ll just pull my covers up to cover my nightgown.” I’d play along and
humor her. I wondered whom she’d cough up to pose as her “nephew” anyway.

“Sweetie,” she said to the person in the other
room. “It’s okay for you to come in now. Ashley’s staying under the covers
cause she’s in her nightie, but you can stick you head in the door and say ‘hi’
and introduce yourself anyway. I know I can leave you two alone together and
that you’ll be a good boy once I’m gone. Sorry I can’t stay, but I’ve got to
get back to the office now and tend to some important business.”

A moment later, a head popped in the doorway and
my mouth popped open. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was Edmond.

“Hi!” he said shyly, waving. “Nice to meet you.
Listen, you’re not dressed yet, so I’ll just wait outside here.”

“B-be there in a minute,” I said, rattled,
stumbling over my words. “I’ll get dressed.”

What the hell was Edmond doing here with, of all
people, Rochere? I jumped out of bed, closed the bedroom door and pulled some
clothing out of my open suitcase. Surprisingly, the jeans and shirt I pulled
out were the right size, fitting as if I’d just bought them today. I ran a
brush through my hair, threw on my socks and shoes and ran out into the living
area. On the way there, I checked for the necklace, which was still sitting comfortably
at my neck.

“Well, Sweetie,” Rochere said to Edmond, as she
stood by the front door. “Since Ashley’s up and dressed now, I guess I can
leave the two of you alone now.”

“Honestly, hon,” she said to me, “If business
wasn’t so urgent back at the office, I’d be able to stay a little bit longer,
but I trust my Edmond here to take good care of you. Now, if you need anything,
like some medicine from the drug store or something to eat, don’t you hesitate
to send him out for it.”

She then kissed him on the cheek, and said
goodbye, leaving us alone together in the apartment.

“Edmond,” I demanded of him as soon as I heard the
outer gate close. “What the hell is going on here?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You know what I mean. What’re you doing with
Rochere?”

“She’s my aunt. I know she told you that because I
heard her. Listen, are you sure you’re feeling all right? Maybe you should go
back to bed and finish recuperating.”

As I stood there, looking at Edmond, the man of my
dreams, I was speechless. Why on earth was he consorting with Rochere?
Something was definitely wrong here.

“I’m feeling just fine,” I answered.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he said. “Do you
mind if I stick around here for a little while, just to make sure that you’re
really okay? I mean, you sure were awfully sick there.”

“No, I don’t mind. Stick around,” I acquiesced,
realizing that I needed to go along with him for a little while longer to find
out the point of this particular scenario. “It’s fine by me.”

I realized, of course, that this was just another
of Rochere’s well-oiled illusions. However, I had to admit that, so far, it was
much, much more pleasant than the previous three had been. I’d let this Edmond
wannabe stick around a tad longer, for I could definitely do with picking up a little
rest at the moment. The other ordeals had been terribly rough and I needed some
time to regroup.

“When my aunt and I first walked in,” he
explained, “you were burning up. I’m so glad your fever broke. And now, here
you are, up and about. I can’t believe how fast you’re recovering now that
you’re no longer feverish,” he continued.

“Guess I’m a quick healer,” I said, choosing that
response over the “it helps that none of this is real” reply.

Despite my suspicion of the situation, I found
myself unavoidably drawn to this Edmond, for just looking at him made my heart
flutter. I could tell that his reaction to me was just as strong when he broke
my stare in favor of looking down at his hands. When my eyes followed his, I
saw that he was trembling visibly.

“My aunt said you looked a little green around the
gills in her office yesterday,” he said, his voice trembling now almost as much
as his hands. “I guess that maybe you caught a bug on the airplane, huh.”

“I suppose.”

“You know, Ashley,” he continued looking at his
hands as he said this, “I’m more than a little embarrassed to admit this, but
I’ve been dreaming about you lately, even before I ever saw you. It was a bit
of a shock to find out that you were real.”

Oh, nice touch, Rochere, I thought. There’s nothing
like keeping it close to the truth, is there?

“In fact,” he continued, “I haven’t been able to
stop thinking about you ever since I saw you in my aunt’s office yesterday. You
made quite an impression on me.”

I could think of a few retorts to throw his way,
but no matter how much my mind saw through this charade, my body refused to
listen. After what I’d been through after entering that last door, I had to
admit that Edmond, or at least this version of him, was very easy on the eyes.
Damn, why did he have to he look so good? Expensively dressed in a white linen
suit, his long curls pulled back into a low ponytail, he was all I had ever
imagined. As real as my dreams had seemed, this added an extra dimension to the
experience, this felt even more real. My body betrayed me as my pulse began to
race and my breath began to quicken. My mind tried to resist, but even though I
tried hard to ignore it, I couldn’t help but notice how his musculature
revealed itself even under the white suit or how his perfect white teeth
contrasted against his tanned skin when he smiled. When he spoke, his voice was
like silk, a dark, rich chocolate silk that wrapped itself around me,
simultaneously soothing and arousing me against my will. If anything, he was
even more gorgeous than he was when I’d seen him in my dreams. Despite myself,
lovely, steamy images began to flow into my head. It was my turn now to find it
hard to make eye contact, lest my eyes betray the desire I felt for him. In
truth, I would have found him completely intimidating had I at all thought he
was real. Of all of Rochere’s torments, I’d have to say this was the one that I
found the least objectionable.

“Oh, really?” was all I offered. “That’s
interesting.”

“Have you been dreaming of me, too?” he asked, a
little too eager. “Something tells me that you have been.”

He then stepped forward until he was standing far
too close to me. Furtively, I looked up, studying his face, the aquiline nose,
the bold cheekbones and the full lips with which I’d become of late so familiar.
Then my eyes met his beautiful, rich, gold and brown ones and while there was
so much feeling within them, they still betrayed him. I did not recognize them.

I tried to step away, but this Edmond reached out,
wrapped his arms around me and leaned in to kiss me. Too eager was his kiss,
too urgent, too longing, too lacking practice. I found myself repulsed by it. I
tried to pull away, but he would not let me. I turned my head away from the
kiss and was finally able to push myself free of this Edmond, disentangling
myself from his arms.

“What is it?” he asked, sounding quite hurt.
“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” I lied. “Nothing at all. This is
just going a little too fast for me.”

If ever I was sure that this wasn’t really Edmond,
that kiss had just confirmed it. Sheepishly, turned my face up to him while
trying to avoid eye contact without being too obvious.

“Was it that bad?” he asked, obviously hurt.

“Oh, no, it wasn’t that at all,” I said. It wasn’t
really a lie because the real reason the kiss was so wrong was simply because
he was an imposter and not my Edmond. “I wasn’t expecting it,” I continued,
which was partially true. “It was just too sudden.”

Pain and disappointment registered in Edmond’s
eyes, along with something I was not expecting – fear.

“I can do better,” he begged. “Please give me
another chance. I won’t disappoint you the next time.”

Still trying to avoid contact with his pleading
eyes, I said, “That’s okay, Edmond. Like I said, it was just a case of too
much, too soon. Besides, I still feel a little ill.”

“So do I have a chance at another shot with you?”
he asked, with a surprising hint of panic.

“Maybe,” I answered, trying to put him off with
some politeness.

The atmosphere suddenly became as awkward as the
morning after a one-night stand. Everything felt wrong. When I looked at him
now, he seemed far less handsome and much more like a flavor-of-the-month
motivational speaker than he did my Edmond.

“Edmond,” I said to break the tension. “Like I
said, I think that I’m just not feeling up to this just yet. After all, I’ve
just gotten over a fever and I think I’m starting to feel a little woozy again.
I think I need to go for a walk and get some fresh air.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to rush you
with that kiss, but I don’t think that going out alone is such a good idea
right now. Here, let me go with you.”

“I’ll be alright by myself,” I told him. “I just
really need some fresh air and I think that being alone will help me to clear
my head.”

“Fine,” he answered, his tone changing in an
instant. “But I must insist that you leave the necklace behind.”

“Excuse me?” I responded.

“You heard me. That necklace you’re wearing. It
isn’t yours.”

“The hell it’s not.” Rather than threatened or
afraid, I was now insulted by this latest lame attempt to retrieve the amulet
necklace.