Find Me If You Dare (Dreamcatcher Book 2) (21 page)

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I hated myself, my irresponsibility. Kayla never should’ve gotten hurt. My jaw clenched until it hurt, and I stepped out of the way, gently removing the gauze from Kayla’s wound.

Taking Kayla’s hand in mine, I stood to the side as Trishna placed her palms on Kayla’s stomach. With the stone in her hand, she spoke the healing spell I’d heard so many times. Kayla let out loud whimpers between her clenched teeth and squeezed my fingers as her injury closed. Sweat rolled down her neck. I kissed her fingertips and shut my eyes, nauseated. Kayla’s whimpers turned to loud groans, but then she quieted. I opened my eyes slowly.

Trishna wiped her forehead with the back of her bloodied hand. “Your turn, Daniel.”

“What?”

“Your arm.”

As if her words had powers, the ache in my tricep returned. The Nightmare had caught me while I’d saved the huddled Magus. A hot throb ran from my wound to my wrist. I grimaced as I rolled up my sleeve, exposing the gash. Trishna healed me, and I held my breath as my cells regenerated. I let out a puff of air when Trishna’s cold hand left my arm.

“You two really need to stop getting hurt,” she said, her tone half-joking. After wiping her hands on a paper towel, she left us alone to tend to whatever task she had next.

Kayla’s eyes could barely stay open. Before we’d left to answer Chad’s distress call, she’d been exhausted. Now, after exerting her powers to break the lock on Margaret’s cage and losing so much blood, her energy level was at empty.

Again, I lifted her into my arms. “Come on, love. Let’s go home.”

“But, Margaret…” The words were slow and slurred.

“Will still be here when we wake.”

“Love… you,” Kayla said as we left the hospital. A second later, she was asleep.

In our home, I laid her on the bed and gently removed her stained shirt and trousers. Any other moment, I would be flushed at the sight of her mostly-naked body. But I was still coming down from my adrenaline high, brought on by fear for her life. With a warm washrag, I wiped the dried blood from her stomach, then tucked her in and joined her in slumber.

was up before Kayla and flicked on the TV in the living room. The clock on the wall to my left showed the time as six a.m. I flipped through channels until I found a local news station. Turning down the volume to avoid waking my housemates, I listened to the latest report on last week’s attacks.

“People are sick everywhere,” one of the anchors said. “Hospitals are overflowing, and the body count is steadily rising. And it’s not just affecting the US anymore. We’re seeing people falling ill in the UK, India, China, Russia… The CDC is baffled.”

“Yes, I don’t think we’ve ever seen a disease like this,” the other anchor replied. “Well, in case you haven’t seen the video yet—I don’t know how you couldn’t have; it’s been running all night—we finally have a confirmation that last week’s country-wide attack was led by a terrorist cell led by someone named Tamesis.”

I shot to my feet and turned up the volume, my heart pounding in my stomach. He’d claimed responsibility? For hundreds of years, he’d stayed hidden. Any Magus not already on his, or Trishna’s, side probably hadn’t even known he was back. What changed to make him reveal himself?

The anchor continued. “We’re going to air the video again, but be warned: this will be unnerving for some.”

The newscasters disappeared as the recording ran. The movie was shot in an office, at a desk near a lit fireplace. Tall bookcases sat against the wood-paneled wall, shelves filled from top to bottom. Hair rose on the back of my neck. This place looked oddly familiar. The camera panned in to a man sitting in a navy blue, high-backed chair, smoking a cigar. Dark hair, slicked back—like Dracula. I caught myself on the arm of the sofa when my knees weakened.

Giovanni.

Not possible.

“
Ciao
,” he said. “On behalf of Tamesis, I first want to thank everyone for being so oblivious to the world around you. You made our first attack so easy. Now, to those of you who are… different, who have abilities or are afraid to let the world know your kind exists: your time has come. Our attack on US soil was just the beginning. Soon, this will be
our
world.” Giovanni grinned that maniacal smile that still had the power to turn my blood cold. “To the rest of you, sleep with one eye open because, soon, you’ll all be begging for death.”

I fell the rest of the way onto the sofa, turning the television off. My body was ice. My breathing stalled. This couldn’t be happening. He wasn’t real. I’d killed him. I’d felt his flesh tear when my blades entered him. I’d watched the life drain from his eyes. Giovanni was dead.

Which meant that video must’ve been taped months ago, before Giovanni betrayed the Protectors and let Rome crumble. We’d known Richard had been planning this for a long time, far before the Mansion’s collapse, but with this video calling all supernaturals to arms…

Everything must be going according to plan.

I needed to talk this out with someone, strategize. Put Richard’s moves into an order, like plays on a chessboard. I needed to figure out what his next one would be.

The front door opened. Samantha—her blonde hair a frizzy mess and her brown eyes framed with purple circles—entered, shuffling her feet. “Oh, great. I was hoping you’d be in bed,” she said.

“No.” I stood. “Couldn’t sleep any longer. How are you feeling?” She looked like death, but she was past the worst part. A drumming filled my chest. One less friend to worry about. For now.

“If anybody asks me that question one more time, I will punch them in the face.” Samantha moseyed past me, entering her bedroom. Minutes later, the shower ran.

I smiled softly and shook my head. She was definitely going to be all right.

Again, I sat on the sofa, leaning back with my eyes closed. I pinched the bridge of my nose.
Think, Daniel. Piece it together.

The battle in Columbus. Five weeks of silence from Richard. His message at the New Mexico mental hospital. Eric’s return with the letter. My capture in D.C. The attacks. The video—the video the same night we found Margaret. There had to be a connection.

I pounded my fist on my forehead.
Come on, you bloody idiot.
It was right there.

A traitor. Hadn’t we been concerned about a mole in Caelum? How else would Richard have known about Albuquerque, the asylum, that I’d taken the arrow, and that I’d be in D.C.? Eric was dead. The rest of my team I trusted, and no one else knew I’d picked that Walmart in New Mexico.

My eyes snapped open. Chad. It had to be. He’d been present for every meeting. He knew the route my team was taking. He’s the one who called me to come save them… which was where we found Margaret.

Trishna, have you seen Chad?
My heartbeat pounded in my ears.

No. Why?

Blast. He’d never returned to the hidden city. Bringing Margaret here was a mistake. This is what Richard wanted. That’s why Nightmares had been protecting her, not Magus or Protectors who could lead us to him.

Margaret was a trap.

I leaped off the sofa and wrenched open the front door, sprinting as fast as I could through the stone tunnels of Caelum toward the corridor designated as a jail, where I was sure Trishna and Margaret would be. Margaret had put on a good show, crying in the cage, shaking with terror when we evaporated to Caelum. Trishna would consider her one of Richard’s victims. She’d try to save her, but not until she was one hundred percent sure Margaret was on our side.

I reached the holding cells in record time, adrenaline pumping through my veins like water gushing down a waterfall. Iron bars sectioned off each chamber, and in the third one, Margaret sat on a bed next to Trishna. Crossing the room in a few, quick strides, I grabbed Margaret’s arm and yanked her out of her seat, not caring about being gentle.

“Ow!” she shouted and tried to wrestle out of my grasp. When I didn’t let go, she squealed.

Trishna jumped up. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Are you here to betray us?” I asked Margaret. When she didn’t reply, I squeezed her arms harder. “Answer me now!”

Again, she shrieked, then, with tears in her eyes, she lifted the hem of her shirt. On her dark skin was a pink brand. I shot my head toward Trishna.

“You didn’t think to check her, did you?” I said.

Trishna, eyeing the symbol for the first time, pressed her fingers to her lips. “That’s a locator mark. It’s like a supernatural GPS.”

“Did you know about this?” I asked Margaret.

She nodded, tears falling from her eyes. “I’m sorry. He said I had to. He tortures me. The Nightmares… they’re coming.”

My legs weakened. “How many?”

Margaret trembled and moaned.

I shook her and yelled, “How many?”

She shuddered, sniffling between her sobs. “I don’t know.”

I pushed her onto the mattress. She curled in a ball and cried.

“It’s a trap. All of it,” I told Trishna. “Your mole—it’s Chad. We were supposed to find Margaret. I wouldn’t be shocked if he’s been playing us since Columbus. Bartholomew already called everyone back from the field, but screw not evaporating into Caelum. We need everyone here
now
. Pray we’re not attacked before then.”

Trishna nodded, her jaw trembling. I raced from the room. There was no moment to spare. Kayla, Tabbi, Nolan, and Samantha needed to be awoken; they had to know what was coming. So many of my teammates—Seth, Ivan, Lian—were still unconscious due to the poison. Who knew how many were left from the other teams?

Images of the attack in Rome flooded my head: Nightmares shredding through Protectors, bodies of my colleagues lining the twelve stories of steps, the gothic mosaic of red and black blood on the white tile in the foyer.

Breath caught in my throat. My eyes burned as I sprinted down the main road. If Margaret was right, and a horde of Nightmares were coming after us tonight, the stone beneath our feet would be slick with blood.

I burst through the front door of my home. Kayla and Tabbi were already awake and seated on the sofa, chatting. They both shot to their feet when they glimpsed my face.

“Daniel, what’s wrong?” Kayla asked.

I flinched at the sound of her voice, slammed with thoughts of my nightmare in Richard’s dungeon—her screams, her body ripped to shreds before my eyes. The walls of our little home never felt so confining. I braced myself against the wall when my knees weakened. She couldn’t be here. I wouldn’t watch her die.

I sucked in a breath, then tried to speak as calmly as I could. “Bringing Margaret here was a mistake. She’s a trap. Tabbi, I need you to take Kayla somewhere safe.”

“No!” Kayla shouted. “I’m not leaving.”

“Kayla, please.” My voice shook. “I need you to trust me.”

She crossed the room in a few quick strides. She put a hand on my chest. “I do. You know I do. But if something’s happening, I’m not going anywhere.”

“He’s right, Kayla,” Tabbi added. “I’ve known him for two hundred years, and I’ve never seen him so scared. Something big’s about to happen.”

“And that’s exactly why we can’t leave. I’m not going to run every time the big, bad wolf comes blowing on our front door. What would happen if all of Caelum scattered because they were afraid? Daniel, you can’t ask me to leave. Please don’t make me do it.”