Horizon (39 page)

My whole body sighs once she is over the threshold. This girl might just have what it takes to break my curse. She is determined enough, bright enough, lovely enough, so why am I still afraid?

Like an unpracticed youth, I am not sure how to start the conversation. After a while she grunts, so I dive in. “You are of the blood.”

Her face pales, and I’m lost in her confused eyes. “Blood?” she asks then gulps.

Maybe not the best thing to start with. I smile at her, but she flinches. Am I that frightening? I drop my gaze and pace the room attempting to make myself less obtrusive. “Long ago…”

She chuckles before she speaks and the sound startles me. “In a galaxy far, far away,” she says, still laughing.

I like her smile. It brightens my mood as well as a full moon on a cloudless night. That aside, I still don’t know what she means. “To what are you referencing?”

Dark brows furrow, and I want to smooth the lines on her forehead. She looks as if she is going to tell me something important before her eyes harden. “Nothing. Go on.”

“Have you ever heard of the Oneiroi?”

She tries out the word. “O-near-ee?” I nod. She considers this for a moment before she says, “Um, no.”

This will be difficult. If there was one thing I used to be able to count on, it was the passing on of legend within a community. What has happened to the world? I take a deep breath and hold it, trying to solidify a plan. Best to start with something she will understand. “Where do you think dreams come from?”

She sits on the couch, her movements waiflike. Confusion narrows her eyes as she takes in her surroundings. “Hey, how did you get another sofa so…” She makes another brief sweep of the room as if to make sure, and her gaze settles on Baltek. Her hand covers her mouth then she points at him. Her voice cracks when she speaks. “Oh my gosh, that dog looks just like the one you fried earlier.”

It takes all my will not to laugh. “I’ll get to that, but please, answer my question.”

Her head bobs in a decisive nod. “Subconscious, right?”

I smirk at her surety. “Not quite.”

She gives me a belligerent stare and cocks her head. “Next you’re gonna tell me they come from you.”

She
is
smart. “Actually, they do.”

She scoffs and stands up. “Right. So you think you’re the darkness
and
that you control dreams.”

“Yes.”

“Whose dreams?”

Not the response I expected. I am encouraged. “Very good question. I have limited access these days, and I need your help.”

Her raucous laughter startles me. “Good one. You want me to control people’s dreams?”

“No.”

“No? But I thought you just said—”

This is the trouble with the young, they do not listen. “What I said was I need your help.”

More scoffs before she says, “You have a funny way of asking for help, buddy.”

She’s right. I may have gone overboard with the drama, but I get out so little. “Are you willing to listen?”

Her eyes remain guarded. “Listen, sure, but I’m not committing to anything just yet.”

“Very well,” I relent, “I will try to give you the shortest version I am able. I only ask that you not interrupt me. Agreed?”

She fidgets in her seat, flicking out a dainty hand as if she is swatting a gnat away. “Yeah, sure, get on with it already.”

Her impatience astounds me, but I continue as if it does not. “You come from a bloodline of clairvoyants. Your mind is capable of reaching into the minds of others around you.” I get a raise of the brows, yet she stays silent. I am further encouraged. “I should clarify one very important point for you. The Oneiroi do not control dreams, we send them.” Her eyes focus on me, and I take my usual chair, opposite her, hoping to keep her interest. “There are legends about us, but legends have faded in your world. We used to be called upon for assistance; however, in recent years humans hardly pay attention to their dreams.”

In the cutest gesture I have ever seen, she holds up her hand as if I am her teacher. I guess in a way, I am.

“Yes?” I say.

“I think I’m following you here, but why does it matter if people don’t remember their dreams?”

For someone so young, she pays attention more than I’ve given her credit for. “In the beginning of time the Oneiroi were charged with filling the minds of royalty. This is one form of divine guidance. At first, we only gifted good dreams, but as time went on it was clear warnings were also needed. You see. If left to their own conscience, most mortals will choose the easiest path. It takes a brave soul to stand up to tyranny or bigotry, yet it takes an equally brave soul to become a tyrant or a bigot.”

She raises her hand again. I am really beginning to like her. “But what does this have to do with me?”

The most important question of all. “I’m going to make this simple; however, if you have further questions, you may ask.” She nods. “There used to be many of us, now there are only four…including myself that have not converted to the Erobos, or those that call themselves the dark ones.” She is right to shudder, but to my surprise, she does not interrupt me. “Basically, my brothers and I are allowed to recruit one mortal for aid every so often, and I have chosen you.”

She tucks her legs under her and leans further into the cushions. “Why?”

If she knew all my reasons she would hate me. Nothing can change what I’ve done. Not even her. I lift my shoulders in a casual shrug that I do not feel. “You are gifted with the sight, you are of the blood, and you have no complications to distract you.”

Her brow creases as she studies me. “What if I don’t want to help? Do I get to leave?”

Unbelievably, she still thinks there is an escape. Let her retain her hope, for now. “If you can find the way out, you may leave at any time.”

She cocks her jaw to the side, riffling her fingers through her dark hair. “Cryptic your middle name?”

Despite my efforts, a chuckle escapes me. “I haven’t a middle name.”

She smiles. “Ha. All right, do you have a first name?”

Such an insistent one. I’ve expected her to resist me, yet she is still gathering information. “You may call me Seth.”

Her smoky eyes lock onto mine. “You have a weird way of answering questions, Seth. What if I take the job and don’t like it?”

My fingers curve along velvet armrests of my chair. Her skin is softer.

My pulse quickens with the thought of touching her. I swallow, and make my body relax. “My offer stands. If at any time you can find the way out, you may leave.”

I barely have finished speaking when she blurts, “What about time off?”

“You will not require time off.”

She gives me a once over. “Everyone needs time off.”

I stand and she startles. Instead of moving toward her as I had planned I take a step back. “Are you agreeing?”

She shrugs and joins me on the carpet as she says, “It’s not like I have anything better to do. Who knows? It might be fun.”

This guy is certifiable, but he’s entertaining too. He should be a movie producer, or screenwriter, or something like that. His ideas floor me.

It’s taken everything in me to agree to help him. What I should be doing is crying in the corner, or clawing through the walls to escape. It might come to that, but not yet. I’m intrigued by him as much as I am afraid of him. It’s stupid to feel this way, yet I can’t seem to make myself feel anything else.

For a moment I wonder how long I’ve been here. I guess it doesn’t really matter because I no longer have a home to go back to. Once the landlord figures out I’m not coming to get my things, he’ll probably cart my stuff off to charity or, more likely, his third floor unit. Slimy weasel. Even my last night there when he came to make sure I knew my time was up, I didn’t miss his eyes clamping onto my mp3 player.

I push my greedy ex-landlord out of my mind because Seth’s voice still echoes in my thoughts.
You are of the blood.

I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous. Next, he’s gonna tell me he’s a vampire and my blood called him to me. Yeesh. It’s bad enough he thinks he controls dreams. I’d hate to see what would happen if he thought he was the lord of the undead instead of the
netherworld,
or whatever he said this place was. Truth is I stopped really listening after he told me things about myself he shouldn’t know or even be able to guess.

Still, he’s right about a few things. I have no clue where blood is concerned, but I’ve been able to feel people out pretty well all my life. It’s what’s kept me out of real trouble, but clairvoyant? I don’t think so. I’d be raking in the dough if I could read people’s minds. I’m not one of those ninnies that would use my power for the greater good or anything like that. I figure, if you got something to lift you up in this world, best use it.

He turns toward the far wall where the pendulum swings and then faces me again. “Please, excuse my manners. You must be hungry.”

“I could eat,” I tell him, but the truth is I haven’t eaten in two days, unless you count that ketchup packet I found in the back of my fridge. My stomach jumps at the mere thought of food, making me forget the questions I have about this room. Like where all that fire came from, and why there is a giant pendulum suspended out of what looks like nowhere from here as it rocks back and forth. The sound is strangely hypnotic, but I make myself focus on more important matters.

He laughs. I like the sound even though I know I shouldn’t. I’m getting myself into all kinds of trouble by acting like everything’s hunky-dory, but until he does something stupid, I’m willing to pretend with him. Poor guy.

My inner voice yells at me.
He’s not normal, how can you treat him like he is?
This place isn’t normal, either. I’m trying to convince myself that it’s an elaborate illusion, but even if I discount the pendulum and fire pit, I still can’t figure out the weird hallway to nowhere.

He turns toward the wall closest to us again and a panel rolls away. A small gasp escapes me and his smirk irritates me. Where in the world did that come from? On the other side is another room. I file in behind him, hoping he’s not leading me to his torture chamber. Trying to be subtle about it, I hover at the threshold, unwilling to go in all the way until I make sure it’s relatively safe.

As if he’s read my mind, he says, his voice deep and strong, “I will not harm you, Amelia.”

My skin prickles when he says my name, and, suddenly, my head goes woozy. Using the wall to steady myself, I try to shrug off how weak I am. I’ve been going on adrenaline, but my body seems to have run out.

Sky blue eyes show nothing but concern as he approaches me. It doesn’t take a brainiak to know what he’s gonna do. For some reason, though, I just can’t handle the thought of his hands touching me, so I rush past him, stumbling into the room before he can grab my arm.

Doesn’t work. He’s at my side and guiding me toward a small table in the corner. As if he’s being careful with me, his body curls around mine, but I won’t let myself feel safe around him.

An awkward moment passes between us as he guides me onto a chair. Moments later, he sets a plate of delicious smelling, steaming hot food in front of me. Where he got it is anyone’s guess. It wasn’t there a second ago, or maybe I’m just too weak to notice things right now.

I make myself wait for him to sit even though I could down this meal in two minutes flat. He sets his own plate down then settles into his chair. “Go ahead,” he says.

My fingers shake as I reach for the knife and fork. When I look at him, he gives me an encouraging smile then looks back at my utensils. Doesn’t he know I could use these against him? He’s either stupid, or he knows I’ve got no chance in fighting him. Either way, all I want right now is the hunk of meat wafting savory goodness toward my eager nose. I fumble with the silverware, but manage to carve a chunk off the gigantic steak and shove it into my mouth. After two bites, I’m swallowing, ready for the next.

His hand flashes out and covers mine. My heart explodes at his touch and my skin erupts in those strange tingles again. I go still as a cornered rabbit. Taking a deep breath, I raise my eyes to his. I don’t have to say a word for him to release my hand.

“Forgive me,” he says. “I merely thought you might need some help.”

“I’m not a child,” I say in a cutting tone that makes me flinch.

“Trust me, I am aware.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask even though any brainless bimbo could have caught his innuendo. I’m no bimbo and I’m not brainless. What I am is so mad right now I might plunge this knife right into his sculpted chest.

A muscle in his jaw jumps and so do I. “Only that I know who you are. I know how old you are. And I know you are starving. Let me help you.”

I smack my lips and take the closest goblet. My head’s rushing with warning bells and my body has tensed again, but I sit back and let him cut my food.

I take a sniff of the drink in my hands. “What is this?”

He sighs before he answers me. “Apple juice. Only apple juice.”

My favorite. It’s creepy how much he knows about me, but I can’t keep my hands from bringing the drink to my lips. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so good.

He makes one last cut and hands me my utensils. I try to smile at him, but it feels wrong, forced.
Of course it’s forced, you idiot. He kidnapped you for heaven’s sake.

His smile is relaxed, easy. With a tilt of his head, he eyes my food. The starving part of me shakes her fists at him, so I set to work piling the meal away. My stomach does a happy dance, greedily asking for more, but I know if I don’t stop soon, I’m gonna make myself sick.

“Amelia?”

I swallow hard. I hate when he uses my name. My body stiffens every time he does it. “Seth?” I say more casual than I feel.

“You needn’t rush. There is more food if you desire it.”

I nod, but suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore. I raise my eyes to his. “Why do you really have me here?”

Amelia’s question reminds me of just how much work I have still to do. I can imagine us sitting at this table, enjoying the evening meal so easily…too easily.