Dying Dreams (Book 1 of Dying Dreams Trilogy) (18 page)

“Tell me,” Reynolds said. “I need to know how accurate your dreams are.”

Liza nodded. She understood, but it didn’t make the telling any easier. “He put sharp things under her toenails and her fingernails. When that didn’t work, he put his hands on her neck and he squeezed until she was right to the point of blacking out, then he let her go and asked again. The last time…The last time, he held on too long and she passed out. When she slipped into the darkness, she was relieved that she hadn’t given anyone up. Her last thought was of her friend, the one she’d had dinner with, and how much she loved him. I never did get his name, she didn’t use his name when she talked to him or in her thoughts.”

“Silas.”

“What?”

“His name is Silas.”

“Oh, well, that explains it. If my true love was named Silas, I wouldn’t use his name either.” Liza was trying to lighten the mood, mostly her own since Reynolds seemed unaffected, but it only made her feel worse. “Poor Silas,” she said. “Can you tell him? Can you tell him that her last thoughts were of him?”

Reynolds raised her eyebrows. “And how would I explain I knew that?”

Liza bit down on her lip so hard she tasted the iron tang of blood. She wanted to argue with Reynolds, because Silas deserved to know how much Alexa had loved him, but she knew Reynolds was right. Her entire body and heart rebelled as her logical brain tried to convince it that this was her life now. She wouldn’t be comforting anyone, she could only try to help find and stop the killer.

“Was she able to see anything? Anything at all?”

“No,” Liza said, just as a detail she’d forgotten flashed in her mind. “Yes. Yes, she could see his shoes. They were brightly colored running shoes, neon blue and pink.”

“Anything else? Smells? Sounds?”

“It smelled like disinfectant. The man’s voice was oddly regular, with no accent or even slang.” Liza thought for a moment. “He was calm the whole time. Even when she kept refusing to tell him anything, even when she… she screamed he spoke to her in a calm voice, like he was talking about the weather. I doubt that will help.”

Reynolds’ expression softened for just a moment, so quickly that Liza wasn’t sure she’d really seen it. “On the contrary, his lack of emotion is indicative of his mental state and his personality. His actions and his line of questioning is new information to us, and indicates he has a specific goal in his killings. That and his lack of emotion suggest he’s either a mercenary or he’s working alone. He’s not someone who was coerced into killing or who has any qualms about the hurt he’s causing. Prior to your information, we’d been certain the killings were motivated by passion, the fae status of the women merely coincidence. We now know the women were targeted because of their status, and that the killings are emotionless and carefully planned and acted out. All of this helps us better understand the sort of killer we’re looking for and I appreciate what you’ve added to this case.”

“Oh, well, good. I’m glad I could help.” And she was glad. Alexa’s killer needed to be caught and he needed to pay for killing her.

“Now, I had hoped you would stay today and take a few tests to determine whether or not you might be able to be an agent here. It seems that you’ve had a rough night, though, and need to find somewhere to live, so I will understand if you’d rather take the rest of the day off.”

She shook her head. “Just a couple of hours, I hope. I’ll be back by one.”

Reynolds nodded. “Report here to my office at one, and I’ll take you to HR.”

Liza took Beauty and Beast over to Marcy’s. Marcy had offered to let her sleep on the couch for a couple of days until she found a more permanent place to live. Unfortunately, Marcy was the only one of Liza’s friends who lived alone and her apartment was a one-bedroom. Liza’s other friends already had at least one roommate and most of them had two with the third already taking up the couch. Rent was high, apartments were scarce, and couch surfing was a common habit. Liza and Ellison had lucked out to find a two-bedroom place so cheap and, even if Marcy moved in with Ellison, Liza couldn’t afford to take over her rent.

Except, Liza realized, she’d just made seven grand for dreaming. If she kept making money like that, she’d be able to cover Marcy’s rent. Of course that meant she’d have to keep dreaming people’s deaths and she’d probably be a basket case, but at least she wouldn’t be homeless. After she’d taken Beauty for a walk and gotten him settled in his doggy bed in Marcy’s kitchen, and filled Beast’s food and water dish and set up his litter box, she headed back to her place, now Ellison’s place, to pack up her stuff.

Outside the door to Ellison’s apartment was a hand-blown glass vase filled with flowers. Her heart skipped a beat and tears pricked her eyes. She really wasn’t such a girly girl, but she’d had a shit morning and the fact that Sloane had thought of her… She picked up the flowers, just to make sure they were from him. The note said, “I’m out of town for a couple days. I’ll see you when I get back. Sloane.” On the romance scale, that note left a whole hell of a lot to be desired She let herself into the apartment, her face in the flowers, and appreciated that for someone like Sloane, flowers the morning after was a huge deal, even if his note sucked.

She closed the door behind her and almost dropped to her knees as an ache hit her. She missed him so bad it hurt and she had to sit down in the first chair she found and just hug the flowers. What the hell was wrong with her? She’d been crazy about a guy before, but she’d never felt like this. She’d never
wanted
to feel like this. She’d grown up with a mother so in love with her husband that she followed him blindly into whatever trouble he came up with and barely noticed her daughters. Liza had always promised herself she’d never be that deeply in love with or that dependent on anyone and she wouldn’t.

She spent one night with the man and she forgot all about her pets and lost her apartment. He was clearly only adding to her problems. She couldn’t need him that badly, and she couldn’t miss him already. She would gain some perspective or she would find someone else to partner with, preferably a woman.

Ignoring the ache in her chest, she stood and put the flowers on the kitchen table. She threw the note in the trash and went back to her room to pack. There was no point packing up all of her books and knick-knacks, Ellison would let her leave them there until she found a place. She just packed enough clothes for a few days and headed back to Marcy’s.

After showering and dressing in business casual attire, Liza headed to the nearest DMV to get a new phone. She couldn’t afford a modern-made cell-phone, but, because they were so expensive, the government issued basic model phones to all who needed them. Land lines had ceased use thirty years ago and the government felt every citizen ought to be able to dial 911 or surf the internet for the nearest hospital. Liza’s phone didn’t do much more than that and it had a shit battery, but she didn’t have any other option. Because so few people drove cars, the DMV now handled all government cell phone issues, and Liza stood in line, sweating in the un-air-conditioned building for forty-five minutes before being handed a phone that looked like it had been run over, twice.

Liza met Marcy at Stacia’s for lunch. The restaurant sat on a high hill with a view of the ocean five blocks away. It was trendier and smaller than the seafood joint where Liza worked. Liza found Marcy on the patio and she sat down at the table with a forced smile. Her first instinct, when she’d gotten the phone, had been to call Sloane and give him her number, but she resisted the urge. He was working and had no need or reason to call her, and she didn’t need to hear his voice or make sure he was all right. Ignoring her body and her heart’s insistence that she contact him was making her stomach churn, but she swallowed hard and smiled through the discomfort. She was a strong, independent woman and she would have a nice lunch with her friend.

“Thanks again for letting me crash on your couch,” Liza said.

Marcy fiddled with her silverware. She looked casual and comfortable in cream slacks and a turquoise blouse, her shoulder-length blonde hair ruffled gently by the wind. “Of course. It’s no problem. Ellison figures this is the perfect opportunity for me to move in with him.”

“He would,” Liza said. She and Ellison had moved in together two weeks after they’d met. They’d always had fun together and she’d liked him immediately, but she’d never felt about him the way she felt about Sloane. Ellison had never consumed her thoughts or her life. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want to lose him, but I’m not ready to live with him.”

“Then don’t. He’s not going to break up with you just because you’re not as impulsive as he is.”

“Or as you are.”

“Just remind him how well that ended,” Liza said.

Marcy gave a small smile and then shook her head. “I’ve just never felt this way about anyone, and I want it to work out so badly.”

“I can understand that,” Liza said. “But I don’t think you need to worry about losing Ellison.” Then she looked up as an idea occurred to her. Maybe what she was feeling about Sloane was just normal, getting to know you, crazy about you sort of stuff. Maybe it would wear off. “How do you feel exactly, Marc? Like your chest hurts if you don’t see him when you thought you would. Like you might throw up if you don’t hear his voice? Like your knees get wobbly when you realize he’s out of town and you’re pretty sure you’re going to have a heart attack and become a jelly-like amoeba if you don’t see him soon.”

Marcy’s eyes had widened as Liza talked, and Liza’s heart sank. “Um, no. I mean I miss him and I want to be around him all the time, but nothing like that,” Marcy said. “What’s going on with you?”

Liza sighed and slumped in her seat. “I’m just like my mother.”

“Nope. I’ve met your mother. You are nothing like her. That woman is a heartless harpy.”

“Banshee, actually,” Liza muttered.

Marcy raised her eyebrows, but Liza just shook her head. She couldn’t tell Marcy about the fae, no matter how much she wanted to. “O-o-o-kay, then,” Marcy said. “What is this about? You feeling screwed up about some man?”

“Yes. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think it’s got more to do with being evicted, and having to leave school, and the new job.”

Marcy gasped and Liza was relieved to have thrown her off course. “You’re really leaving school?”

She and Ellison had already worked out what she’d tell people, since they’d have to know she’d changed career paths. “I got a job offer that I couldn’t walk away from and, since I don’t need to complete my degree–”

“Hmmm, fascinating,” Marcy said. “Unless this job involves you on a boat for eight months of the year, I’m not buying it.”

Damn Liza for sharing her hopes and dreams with Marcy on more than one drunken night out. “I’ve already started and I’ve been on a boat. I won’t be on a boat as much as I might like, but I just really couldn’t–”

“Walk away. Got that part,” Marcy said, her eyes narrowed. “I heard the same story from Ellison and I didn’t buy it when he told me, either. So are you going to tell me what’s really going on?”

Liza took a long drink and a bite of her roast-beef sandwich before she answered. “I already did.”

Marcy’s smile didn’t falter, but Liza could see the pain in her eyes and she felt terrible. It didn’t matter how bad she felt, though, she couldn’t tell Marcy the truth. Marcy didn’t need to be tangled up in her mess and she wasn’t going to break the rules before she’d even started her new job. She didn’t want to be a guinea pig in West Virginia. “Okay, fine. Tell me about the man to make it up to me.”

“When are you going to move in with Ellison?” Liza knew it was a low blow, but she really didn’t want to talk about Sloane.

“He hasn’t officially asked, yet. He just made a vague suggestion.”

“Ah, so you’ve been avoiding his calls.”

“If I hadn’t talked to him, I wouldn’t have known you’d been evicted.”

“Then you’ve been changing the subject before he can ask. Why?”

“Who’s this guy who’s got you so crazy?”

“I’m not crazy. You’re afraid of the commitment of moving in with him, aren’t you?”

Marcy’s eyes widened and Liza knew she’d made a direct hit. “You just want to take over my apartment.”

She took another bite of sandwich and glowered like she was offended. Marcy didn’t even flinch. She wondered why she and Marcy didn’t hang out more often, she liked her. A lot. “Of course I want your apartment. It’s gorgeous. I’d be crazy not to want it. But if you aren’t ready to move in with Ellison, I’ll be fine. I’ll find somewhere else to live. I’m sure there’s room in that squat on Sixth Street.”

“Wow, does that shit work on other people? Because all you’re doing is pissing me off. Would you really push me into something I’m not ready for, just so you can get my apartment?”

“Aha!” Liza pointed a French fry at her. “So, you’re not ready!”

“Of course not. I’ve only been going out with him for a little over a week and even that’s been weird with his sexual repression.” Her eyes got a bit misty. “Though also very fun.” She snapped herself out of it. “But it still hasn’t been long enough for us to move in together. I’m not like you and Ellison. I don’t fall in love at first sight, I don’t jump into bed at first lust, and I don’t move in with a guy just because he tells me he loves me.”

Liza’s heart sputtered and tears pricked her eyes. “Oh. My. God. He told you he loves you.”

Marcy threw up her hands. “What’s the big deal? He says that to every girl he meets, doesn’t he.”

Liza shook her head and dabbed her eyes with the cloth napkin on her lap. “He never, never, ever says it, Marc. Like seriously, never. He doesn’t even tell me he loves me as a friend. I’ve never even heard him tell his mother he loves her.”

Marcy’s eyes got a little wet, but she stuck her chin out. “So he has issues about that, too. We have to work those issues out before I can make a commitment like moving in with him.”

Liza stared at her plate and thought about it for several minutes. “Just be careful, Marcy. Ellison… He doesn’t seem like it, but he’s fragile. I get why you want to proceed cautiously, but he’s put himself out there by saying he loves you and you should make it clear to him you aren’t going anywhere. When he finds something good, he likes to hold on tight.”