Dreamscape (6 page)

I do not hover, even though I would love to see her
reaction when she opens the door. Instead, I leave a tidbit of information I’m
hoping she will want to bite. “I shall see you when I return.” I move to leave,
but she blocks my way before I can take a step.

Her eyes laser into mine. “I thought you said there wasn’t
a way out of here. You’re not leaving me alone in this place.”

I give her a regretful smile. “I am afraid I must. My team
will be missing me.”

“What team? You said you couldn’t leave! What else have you
been lying to me about?”

I bypass her easily and make it halfway through my room
before she even crosses the threshold. She sprints to catch me, and I let her
curl her fingers around my bicep, savoring every second of skin to skin contact
I am allowed. I have failed to realize the advantages of wearing short sleeves
until this moment.

Her velvet touch is enthralling, but I command my blood to
slow, my heart to remain calm. With measured movements, I stare at her hand
then look directly into her eyes. Her pupils dilate and her lips part in an
invitation I know she does not intend to offer.

Her pulse is a siren song, but I cannot get caught up in
the sound; I cannot allow myself to get distracted by her sultry scent, either.
My feet refuse my command to step back, so I smile instead.

That’s all it takes for her to drop her hand to her side
and move away from me.

“Amelia,” I say. My voice reflects the softness I feel for
her. “I know you are scared, and I am sorry for causing your fear. You will see
in time, you needn’t fear me, yet I have no more time at the moment to give
you. Please step away from me.”

“You’re not ditching me!” she hisses.

I close my eyes and shut my heart against the panic in her
voice. “You are not ready to follow me, sweet one. Please, do as I say.” When
she doesn’t move, I pick her up.

She pounds my chest, my shoulders, and my back. “Let me
down!”

I desperately wish I had time to resolve this conflict. Not
able to help myself, when I reach her room, I slide her body along mine. My
lips brush her earlobe, and she stiffens, but her heartbeat tells me a
different story.

I keep her in my embrace because if I see that mouth of
hers, I will not be able to go. I speak calmly into her ear, “I will return in
a few hours. Make yourself at home. If you need anything at all, merely speak
your request and, apart from leaving, it will be granted.”

Her ragged breath beats against my neck and her body
stiffens. I let her go and glide through the door, locking it the moment it
shuts. Her fists pound the barrier between us. “Seth, you can’t do this to me!
Seth! Please! Let me out.”

I grit my teeth and focus, calling the flames. With Amelia
screaming at me, I step into the Dreamscape.

I scream until my voice runs out. I pound the door, kick it
until my foot aches. When that fails to budge it, I scan the room for something
to smash through the tick barrier.

He left. Seth left me here. Alone.

I’m alone.

Nothing’s changed, really, but in this moment I’m lonelier
than I could have ever imagined. He’s using mind games on me; they aren’t going
to work.

That little stunt he pulled before he locked me in here
won’t work, either. What kind of idiot does he take me for? I’m not going to
fall for him just because he ran his hot tongue along my earlobe.

I ignore the shiver that snakes down my body and open the
door he materialized out of a frigging wall. The cool brass handle gives under
my twist. With the slightest pressure, the door slides open and a bright light
blasts on, illuminating the most amazing bathroom that could ever exist.

A gigantic tub rests in the center of the room. It’s made
of copper with dents concaving the outside like the scales of a fish. Mahogany
cabinets line the soft green walls, and all I can think of doing is searching
through them to see what’s inside. I’ve never been to a spa, but I doubt any of
them could compete with this.

I find some bubble bath that smells like plums along with a
sponge and shampoo. Smiling, I rush to the other room and grab some clothes to
change into. Without hesitating, I turn and lock the door. He’s probably got a
key. I might be stepping into his trap to get me naked, but at this moment, I
need a bath so bad my skin aches for it.

I’ve only had one real bath in my life and that’s when
Justine splurged for a fancy hotel on my sixteenth birthday. Unlike those
shallow things that pose as tubs in the apartments we had, this one was deep. I
took my time soaking. We were in between towns so it wasn’t like I had a crew
to hang with anyway. She was so sweet to me that day. Took me to see a movie
and got me some new clothes at the mall.

I’d tried to get her to take me to the discount stores, but
she wouldn’t hear of it—said I needed something special for my big day.

I still have those jeans she paid a hundred bucks for. At
least, I do. How did Seth get my stuff? Does he have my other things? Hope
sprouts in my chest. Maybe he got Justine’s picture?

My head can’t seem to keep from shaking. I miss her so much
it hurts my heart every day of my life, but maybe I won’t have to worry about
that anymore. It’s not like I have a life now. If she could see me, what would
my grandma think of me now?

Suddenly, I’m not so eager to take a bath. I’m not so
willing to give in. Maybe I should let myself simmer in my sweat for a while,
see how much Seth likes me then.

After I relieve my bladder, I bypass the tub and go back
into the bedroom. He said all I had to do was ask for things and this room
would magically give them to me, so I begin with something simple. “I want real
light in here,” I say into the nothingness.

The room explodes with light from a source I can’t seem to
find. I smile.

“I want a door out of this place,” I say, going right for
the good stuff. Nothing happens. I sigh. Should have known he was telling the
truth. I try again out of spite. “I want a million dollars.”

A whole bunch of neatly stacked bills appear on the bed. No
freaking way!

I rush over to the money and take a crisp hundred between
my fingers. Feels real enough. For a moment I get caught up in the rush. I
gather as much of it into my arms as I can and sniff. My nose crinkles.

Somehow, I thought money would smell better. I shrug then
throw myself onto the pile; pretty soon I’m covered in money. The fascination
dies pretty quickly, though, so I try my request again. “Show me the front
door.”

Nothing.

“Show me the back door.”

Nothing.

Damn.

I think for a minute then demand some chocolate from my
friendly neighborhood genie room. It’s cool and all, but all I can think about
is getting out of here. A basket filled with Belgian chocolate appears on my
bed. I toss the money on the floor and rip through the plastic.

The first bite throws me for a spin. It’s soooo good.
Better than any old yogurt could ever be, no matter what they tell people on
TV.

Having no idea just how long I’ve wasted, I tell the room I
want a clock with the real time on it. A cordless number appears on my
nightstand, big glowing numbers and all that read six-forty-one AM.

After debating for an hour, I break down and take a bath. I
even try not to enjoy it. When I walk into the bedroom, nothing’s different.
Two hours have passed by without one peep from Seth or his dog.

Sure. Fido gets to go out for a stroll, but I’m locked up
like the newest inmate.

My teeth grind together, creating this awful noise that
makes me want to grind my teeth more. Why do I keep having to remind myself I’m
Seth’s prisoner? It’s like a part of me would be more than happy to be buddies
with him or something. So not cool of me.

After a while, I lie down and try to sleep. It doesn’t
work, yet I’m so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open. Hoping it will help, I
tell the lights to turn off and they do, then after only a few minutes I think
of something. They blaze back on at my command, and I’m at Seth’s door faster
than I should be able to move.

Weird. I shrug then try the knob. Still locked. “I want
this door to open.”

It does.

The heat registers before the scene solidifies. His wall of
fire is at full blaze, but it hasn’t scorched his room. In an odd way it looks
like an upside down waterfall, or a really weird, psychedelic, supersized movie
screen.

When I’m pretty sure it’s not going to rush at me like it
did last time, I step into his room. Any other time I would have thought that
what I was seeing was amazing, but right now all I can think about is where
he’s gone. I check the hallway just to make sure, but I’ve spent too much time
there already to be tempted by it again.

I take a step closer to the fire and an image flickers in
the flames. It looks like a park, but the scene is dark and hard to make out.
My feet move closer, even though I know I’m stupid for doing so.

As I step nearer, I’m able to make out other things. A
picnic table takes shape, as does a streetlight down the way. The heat from the
flames calls to me, beckoning me into its embrace. It’s like a drumbeat in my
head.
Come to me, come to me, come to me
.

Part of my brain screams at me to turn around and jet back
to my room, but that part is overshadowed by my curiosity, this strange
compulsion I feel to take that first step through the flames. For some reason
I’m no longer afraid of the fire, and I should be. What the heck’s wrong with me?

My muscles bunch as I anticipate moving through the
flickering wall. Maybe that’s my way out of here? Maybe it’s like that science
fiction show on TV where the characters move from world to world through gates
made of water. I scrunch up my nose and bring my fingers closer to the flames.
Just before the heat becomes too much, the flames part around my hand as if
they will obey me. The heat clings to my skin, but it doesn’t burn exactly.

My body vibrates with excitement. Could it be this simple?
Could I really leave? I glance over my shoulder, considering the money on the
bed. It would take me a long time to blow through that much cash.

This is my chance. If I don’t take it, I might not ever be
left alone again.

Not allowing myself to think about it further, I rush back
into the room and grab as much money as I can fit into my jeans. I even stuff
some into my bra.

When I’m done, I rush back into Seth’s room. The wall of
flames dances and pops as I approach. I’m so stupid for trying this, but it’s
my only shot.

The park scene is still visible, somehow familiar. It kind
of looks like a park two blocks from Justine’s place. My gut clenches while my
heartbeat pounds in my throat and roars in my ears.

Not sure what to expect, I thrust my fist through the
barrier. Dizziness clamps onto my brain as my body hurtles through the barrier.
I land on my hands and knees, skidding forward on the fresh-cut grass moist
with morning dew.

A smile overtakes me.

I’m alive. I’m through.

Dawn is just around the corner. The breeze brings the
earthy scent of bread baking. My throat tightens when I see Fred’s corner
bakery. Oddly, I’m not hungry.

Not a soul lingers in the park or on the street I’ve walked
every day for over a year.

Seth’s a liar. Justine’s place is two blocks from here.

When I glance behind me, his room flickers in and out of
view. My mind can’t quite comprehend what I’m seeing, but it doesn’t matter. I
need to hurry. He said he’d be gone a few hours. It’s been at least that long.

I can’t go back to Justine’s, so I head for the market. I
need to find out what day it is. If he hasn’t had me too long, I might still be
able to score a pad near the college.

Keeping to the shadows, I edge toward Forest Street,
putting my back to the chaos of the past few days, or however long I’ve been
with Seth.

My stomach tumbles to my toes at the mere thought of his
reaction when he figures out I’m gone. He’ll try to find me again, but I plan
to be on a bus or train.

I think I’ll head to Texas. I’ve always wanted to live near
water warm enough to enjoy. Man, I hope it’s not Sunday. Nothing happens in
Provo on Sunday.

Voices cut through my thoughts, making me stop short. I
plaster myself against the nearest tree and strain to hear the rest of the
conversation.

The bus stop is ahead of me, and I really don’t want to
take a detour. If they are really into their conversation, they may not notice
me when I walk by. Just in case, I stay in the tree line.

I inch nearer to the group, keeping as low as I can.

One deep voice in particular raises my hackles. Panic
rushes through me. I can’t let him see me. He’ll drag me back.

Something is wrong here. Richard’s world has come alive in
my absence.

The sounds, colors, and smells resonate a reality I have
not experienced in decades. I’ve been working with Richard; however, he has not
yet mastered enough control to be a permanent part of my team.