The Nightmare Affair (23 page)

Paul tilted his head. “Well, my uncle
is
a magistrate, and I have easy access to his house.”

“So?”

“So … I also happen to be pretty good at snooping, too,
and
at hacking into personal computer files. Maybe I can find something useful.”

I stopped walking. “Hack Magistrate Kirkwood’s computer?”

Paul turned toward me. He let go of my hand only to take hold of my shoulders. He began to rub my arms up and down. “Sure, why not?”

It was hard to stay focused with him touching me like that. “Uh, maybe because he’d be really pissed if he found out?”

Paul grinned, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “Just so happens that pissing him off is one of my favorite pastimes.”

“Oh, yeah, how come?”

“Because he hates me.” He said it in the same joking voice, but I detected that bitterness again.

I put my hand on his chest. “Why do you think that?”

“It’s true. I’m a mule, you see, an utter disgrace to the family name. Honestly, I’m surprised they even let me use it.”

I didn’t laugh at his feeble attempt at humor this time. I was thinking about the fall he’d taken down the stairs that put him in the hospital. But the idea that Paul’s uncle hated him enough to give him a little accidental push was absurd. “Well, in that case, what do you think you can find out?”

“Hmmm, well, I’d like to say the identity of the third Keeper, but I doubt it. The separate kinds make a habit of hiding that sort of stuff from one another. I imagine the only people who know are the person himself and maybe a few of the darkkind senators. I’d bet even Consul Vanholt doesn’t know.”

I sighed. It would’ve been useful information. “Okay, so what else then?”

“I might be able to find out the details of the Keeper spell, the mechanics of how it works.”

“Sweet. I mean, I guess that’s a good enough reason to include you in the investigation.”

He pulled me into a hug. “I’m sure you won’t regret it.” Then he pushed me away from him just enough so that he could look down at my face. “But is there anything else I should look for?”

I chewed on my bottom lip for a minute, mulling it over. There
was
something else, but I didn’t know if I was ready to go down that path.

Paul’s fingers tightened around my shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head.

“Come on, Dusty. You can tell me. I won’t judge.” He dipped his head toward mine and kissed me again. I closed my eyes, feeling the same rush of physical sensation, making my mind fuzzy. When he broke the kiss this time, I kept my eyes closed for a moment, light-headed.

I looked at him. “Think you can figure out what my mother is doing for the senate? I want to know why she was at the dance and why they’re giving her Mr. Ankil’s job.”

“No problem. But why do you sound so suspicious?”

I took a deep breath. “Because when I went into the tunnels that night I thought
she
was the person I was following. And since she’s a Nightmare beyond the control of The Will…”

“… you think she’s involved.”

I nodded.

Paul frowned and pulled me against his chest, his arms a comforting pressure around me. “What exactly do you want
me
to do?”

“Prove she’s not the killer.”

18

Secret Identities

“You invited your boyfriend to help us investigate?” Eli sat up from his slouched position on the chair in his dorm room.

“What’s the big deal?” I said, trying not to squirm. Then I remembered I had no reason to be intimidated by Eli Booker. We were friends now. Sort of. “Paul is Magistrate Kirkwood’s nephew. He can give us insider information on what the senate is doing.”

Eli drummed his fingers against the arms of the chair. “I don’t know, Dusty. I just don’t really like the guy much.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why? Did
Lance
say something bad about him?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s not why. Not entirely.”

“Oh, puh-leeze. You don’t even know Paul. All you know is what Lance told you. And Lance doesn’t like him for the plain and simple fact that Paul’s a halfkind. Or a
mule,
as I’m sure Lance put it.”

Eli shook his head. “I don’t care about that. There’s just something about him that rubs me the wrong way.”

I huffed. “Geez, Eli, I figured you’d be more sympathetic considering you two have the I-can’t-do-magic problem in common.” Oops, I’d done it again. Let my mouth run away with me.

He bristled. “I don’t give a crap about doing magic. That’s beside the point.”

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. I opened my eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I like Paul a lot, and I don’t appreciate you insulting him.”

“You mean like you insult Katarina?”

“That’s different.”

His infuriating eyebrow rose up. “Yeah? How so?”

Paul’s not an evil, manipulating, stuck-up twit.
Fortunately I kept that one to myself. “Can we not fight about this? I’ve already told him what we’re doing so it’s too late anyway.”

Eli looked mutinous for a moment, then exhaled. “All right, no fighting. But don’t be surprised if I bring Kat to our next meeting.”

“You
wouldn’t
.”

Eli crossed his arms, muscles bulging, then grinned. “Okay, you’re right. I wouldn’t. But only because she’s too much of a distraction.”

Oh
there
is a good reason.
An unpleasant knot tightened in my stomach.

“Although Katarina
could
actually be useful,” said Eli, scratching his cheek.

“How do you figure?”

“She’s pretty smart. She’s got a good idea of why Mr. Ankil was a Minotaur in the dream.”

I didn’t say anything, trying to ignore the inappropriate sense of betrayal I felt knowing he’d shared the details of our dream-sessions with his girlfriend. They were
his
dreams, after all. Besides, it wasn’t as if I didn’t tell Paul. We were even, really.

“Kat thinks it’s because he was a Taurus. You know, his sign, the head of a bull.”

I nodded, supposing it made sense. “How does she know Ankil was a Taurus?”

Eli ran a hand through his black hair, looking embarrassed. “She’s
really
into astrology.”

“Totally not surprised. But whatever.” I plopped down on the sofa, tired of standing with my butt leaning against the desk. “So did you find anything useful in Fritz’s office?”

Eli stood and walked over to me. “Unfortunately, no.”

“There was nothing?” I said, gazing up at him and trying not to squirm from sudden nervousness at his close proximity.

He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on his jeans and nodded. “And I was pretty thorough about it, too. If he’s got the rings, he’s not keeping them there.”

I grimaced, looking away from him. I hadn’t really figured we would strike a home run the first at bat, but it was a little disheartening to know I’d assaulted a teacher, exposed the nature of my Nightmare abilities, and earned a heinous detention all for nothing.

“Thanks by the way,” Eli said. He reached out and stroked the top of my head. “You really saved my neck.”

Well, maybe not
completely
for nothing. I glanced up at him, warmth climbing my neck. Patting my head wasn’t exactly intimate, but it felt that way. “Don’t mention it.”

He smiled, dazzling me. I smiled weakly back at him, trying to hide my embarrassment at the tremble that went through my body. I’d hoped now that I had a boyfriend—one I certainly enjoyed kissing and hugging and looking at—that my attraction to Eli would somehow vanish. But apparently not.
Stupid teenage hormones.

“Hurry up and go to sleep already,” I said. “I wanna get this freak show on the road.”

Eli yawned and sat next to me. Then he lay down and swung his legs over my lap, pinning me.

“Hey.” I shoved his legs off and stood up.

Chuckling, Eli said, “Don’t forget that we’ve got to focus my dreams on the investigation.”

I scowled at him, flustered rather than angry. “I won’t. Trust me, I’m sick of ice fishing and football.” I leaned over and poked him in the chest. “You have no imagination.”

He seized my hand and squeezed it. “That’s what I’ve got you for,” he said, grinning. Then his face grew slack and his grip loosened as he fell asleep.

*   *   *

We were in the tunnels again. Me and Eli. I heard the scream, smelled the smoke and that bitter, nauseating stench of something on fire that shouldn’t be. Something that was never meant to burn.

Not this. Not again
. It was bad enough I couldn’t escape what happened with Ankil in my own dreams and nightmares. I refused to experience it again in someone else’s. Closing my eyes, I thought about warm sun, soft sand, and sparkling water. The Hawaii of my imagination.

A warm breeze caressed my face, and I opened my eyes. Eli and I were standing on a deserted beach. He marched over to me, looking furious.

“Whoa, Nelly,” I said, backing up.

“Why did you do that?” Eli stopped a safe distance away and gestured at the tropical landscape. For some reason he was shirtless, his scorpion tattoo exactly how I remembered it, and I forced my eyes away from his chest. “We were right where we wanted to be already.”

“I couldn’t … I mean … I can’t … it’s too soon. I’m sorry.”

Eli’s expression softened. “I don’t want to see it again, either. But, Dusty, we can’t just sit around here.” He waved again.

“I know. It was just an automatic reaction. Give me a minute to fix it, okay?”

“Sure.”

I closed my eyes and concentrated. Going back to the tunnels was out of the question. I wasn’t ready for that. But I thought I could handle the scene with Rosemary. Her death had been less violent and scary. Far less recent.

I pictured the scene as I remembered it from Eli’s dream, the cops in uniform, the cemetery at night. I envisioned Rosemary lying beside the headstone, not as she’d been in the dream, but as I’d seen her in real life that brief moment after her mother broke the shield.

“Wow,” Eli said. “It’s just like I remember.”

I opened my eyes and saw he was only partially right. Somehow I’d managed to combine his dream with the real thing, overlaying them like two pieces of stained glass.

Eli approached Rosemary’s body with the caution of a true cop. He knelt beside her, taking a good, long look. I left him to it while I scavenged for clues. I examined the face of each police officer, hoping for recognition, maybe an indicator of who was behind all this.

After a while Eli stood and came over to me, shaking his head. “I’ve got nothing.”

“Me too.”

“This is so frustrating.” He looked around. “I mean, here we are, right here. Just two hours too late. If we could only hit the rewind button or something.”

I thought about it a moment. “What if we
can
?”

He swung back to me. “Huh?”

“What if
I
can?”

“You think it’s possible?”

Here we’re like gods,
I remembered my mother saying. If so, then I could control not just the where, but the
when
. “I don’t know, but I’ll give it a try.”

“All right.”

“Don’t get excited or anything. Probably won’t work.”

He grinned. “You know what your problem is, Dusty? You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

I ignored the comment and the warm fluttering in my stomach. I closed my eyes again and concentrated harder than I ever had before in my life. I had no idea what to do besides follow my instinct. Surely I had to have some.

For a while, nothing happened, and I was close to giving up when I remembered Lady Elaine telling me that all dreams are symbolic.
Symbolic … symbols. What kind of symbol represents time?

A clock.

No sooner had I thought it than I pictured it, a huge grandfather clock with a serene face covered in big roman numerals. The hands were pointed at the two, around the time when the werewolf cops had brought me to Coleville. I imagined the second hand moving
backward
. I expected it to obey the command easily, but instead I felt resistance almost at once, a sort of foot planting in my imagination as the hand refused to move. It pushed back against me, wanting to go forward.

No
.
Go back
. I pushed and pushed, straining against it, willing it to obey. There was a loud, piercing crack like lightning striking a rooftop. My eyes flashed open as Eli let out a gasp.

“What’s going on?”

Around us the world of the dream had gone from something substantial to a swirl of color and blurred images like I usually saw when first entering a dream. For a moment I thought I was being pushed out, only it couldn’t be that with Eli seeing it, too.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” he said, shutting his eyes. But the swirling soon began to slow and the images to grow clearer.

“Eli,” I whispered. “It
worked
.”

We were still in the cemetery, but the police were nowhere in sight. A living, upright Rosemary stood only a few paces in front of us.

She wasn’t alone.

I held my breath, my gaze focused on the person with her. He was nothing more than a dark blur in the shape of a man. A shadow man.
F
. It had to be.

Beside me, Eli stepped forward.

“Don’t,” I said. This wasn’t like a normal dream, not even one of the prophetic ones. The world here felt tenuous, as flimsy as a spider’s web. One wrong move and the whole thing would unravel.

Eli held still, and we both watched and listened.

“I can’t tell you that,” Rosemary was saying to the shadow man. “Not unless you tell me why you need to know.”

The shadow man stepped closer to her, first taking her by the shoulders then raising his hands to cup her face. “Because,” he said in a voice made of silk. “I love you, Rose. I
need
this from you. You love me, too. You
want
to give it to me. Give it to me
now
.”

I watched Rosemary’s expression slowly go from alert to dazed, like someone slipping into a trance. There was some kind of magic going on here. I was sure of it.