Poet Anderson ...Of Nightmares (19 page)

“No, you won't,” Alexander said. “I'll take him back to the hotel. I have to stop in anyway.”

Jonas swallowed hard and stared down at his plate. As if dinner wasn't stressful enough, he was sure he'd get an earful in the car. Samantha groaned and grabbed Jonas's sleeve pulling him from the chair.

“Fine,” she said. “But I'm walking him out.”

Jonas followed, looking back to thank Felicia for dinner, though she'd had no hand in making it. Felicia waved, smiling warmly, and then continued to go about her task. Alexander, on the other hand, was boring a hole into Jonas's face with his death stare.

Jonas and Sam went out into the driveway, and paused beside Alexander's Mercedes, Sam reached to put her palm gently on Jonas's cheek. “I'm so sorry,” she murmured, and then leaned in to kiss his bruise, a soft flutter of a touch under his eye. Jonas took her by the waist and pulled her into him, resting his forehead against hers, wishing they'd had more time together.

“Listen,” he said quietly, eyes closed. “I have to tell you something about your dad.”

“That he's an asshole?” she whispered. “Too late. I already know.”

Jonas smiled. “He's a Dream Walker, Sam.” He straightened and looked down at her. Sam's eyes widened. “At least he used to be,” Jonas continued. “And he knew my mother. He was with her when she died.”

Sam shook her head, and turned back to the house. The front door opened, and Alexander exited with keys in his hand. His wife ran out after him, holding his coat. Jonas turned Sam back to him.

“I need your help,” he told her. “I need everything you can find on Night Terrors. How to defeat them.”

Sam laughed. “And where am I researching this? The official Dream Walker archives?”

“Possibly. You could check your father's computer, his office. I don't know. Any place you think he might keep records.” Jonas had a twinge of guilt at suggesting Sam spy on her dad, but then again, Jonas knew he was a liar. And liars kept secrets.

“If he knows how to defeat Night Terrors, I'm sure he would have told the others,” Sam said.

Jonas checked the porch and saw Alexander kiss his wife goodbye. “Not necessarily,” he told Sam quickly. “Dream Walkers think of it as some kind of code. Everyone has to figure it out for themselves. Find their own way.”

“So you want to cheat?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“Is it cheating or is it finding my own way?”

Sam smiled, stepping closer. “God you're so fucking sexy,” she whispered.

“That's my way, too,” Jonas replied.

The car locks beeped, and Jonas turned to see Alexander approaching, his expression stern. This wouldn't be a great time to kiss his daughter goodbye. Jonas held up his hand to Sam for a high five, making her laugh. She slapped it and said goodbye before he got in the passenger seat.

The interior of the car was tan leather, and cold through Jonas's clothes. Sam walked back to the house, ignoring her father when he told her goodbye. The interior lights clicked on as Alexander got in the car, and Jonas watched him, his urge to tell him off nearly too much to bear.

Both men sat quietly for a moment. Alexander backed out of the driveway, flipping on his lights when they started down the street. The heat clicked on, brushing Jonas's hair back from his face, stinging his sore cheek. Alexander was driving fast, and after nearly ten minutes of silence, he glanced over at Jonas for the first time.

“How did you find her?” he asked in a low voice.

“Excuse me?”

“My daughter,” Alexander said, louder. “How did you find Samantha?”

Jonas furrowed his brow. “She told you,” he said. “We have the same English—”

“Not here,” he snapped. “Not in the Waking World. How did you find her in Genesis?”

Jonas's lips rounded, surprised to hear about the Dream World even though he knew Alexander had been a Dream Walker. “Well,” Jonas said. “I can't really remember my dreams all that well. But Sam told me she was on the street and I ran up to talk to her. I must have recognized her from school. Turns out she likes me.”

“Yes, I noticed,” Alexander said contemptuously. “My trouble with that scenario, Poet, is that she shouldn't have been in that world at all.”

Goosebumps rose on Jonas's skin at the mention of Poet. His tone making Jonas feel uncomfortable. Even threatened. “Maybe that's why we met. I helped her back into a safer dream.”

“That should have been it, then,” Alexander said. “You were a Poet helping a lost dreamer. You relocated her. Now you disappear from her life. So why were you at my dinner table?”

Because I don't know what the hell I'm doing, Jonas thought. He didn't know what being a Poet meant. And more than anything, he didn't know how to disappear from Sam's life. Not now.

“You were traveling with your brother,” Alexander said. “Popping in and out of the dreamscape at random, always in his dreams. Impossible to track. You should have continued on your course, just like your mother had wanted. Instead, Alan is in a coma and you're bringing my daughter into your nightmares.”

Guilt assaulted him, and Jonas shifted in the seat to face Alexander. “I didn't bring Sam to Genesis,” he said. “You can't blame me for that. You're a Dream Walker—did you ever consider that your daughter could be a Lucid Dreamer? Maybe she got herself into the Dream World.”

Alexander hardened his jaw, staring ahead at the road. “She's not,” he said. “I would have known. It's you. You're tunneling her and bringing her in.”

Jonas shook his head. “Or maybe you just don't know your daughter all that well.”

“I know more than you think, boy,” Alexander said in a low warning voice. He turned the corner and eased his Mercedes to the curb in front of the Eden Hotel. Alexander held up his hand to Hillenbrand to let him know he wasn't ready to be interrupted yet. The doorman tipped his hat and folded his hands in front of him, shooting Jonas a concerned look.

Alexander turned to Jonas, his dark eyes searching him. He smiled politely. “You can keep the doorman job, Jonas. I'm the one who arranged for you and Alan to come to town. I knew you'd be safe at the hotel. You'd fulfill your purpose.”

Jonas looked at the floor of the car, his mind swirling with this revelation. The hotel had contacted Alan, handed him the best job offer he'd seen. He and his brother should have been more skeptical. They should have been more careful.

“You will not see my daughter again,” Alexander said. “You are not only a danger to her heart, but to her soul, as well. We both know there are…creatures looking for you. Threats. I brought you and Alan back to this city for a reason. Your brother has already disappointed me. But if you do the same, I'll kill you both.”

Jonas's entire face was hot with anger, his fingers curling at his side.

“Now get out of my car,” Alexander said casually, and turned ahead to face the street like Jonas didn't exist anymore.

Chapter Twenty

H
illenbrand rushed forward when
Jonas
got of the car. The Mercedes pulled away, squealing its tires. Hillenbrand gave Jonas a “you barely survived, huh?” look, and went back to his post as Jonas headed inside.

Marshall glanced up from where he stood at the front desk, pen in his hand. When he saw Jonas, he set the pen purposefully aside and crossed his arms over his chest. He seemed wholly unimpressed with Jonas's black eye. “I'm sure you're aware,” Marshall told him calmly, “that your shift starts in fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” Jonas said. “I was just about to get dressed and head up.”

Marshall pursed his lips. “Perhaps track down Molly first. She can help you cover that up.” He tapped the space below his eye. Jonas felt a wave of embarrassment, his run-in with the resident school douchebag was completely trivial in the grand scheme of his problems.

“I'll expect you on time, Mr. Anderson,” Marshall said, picking up his pen again as he shifted some papers in front of him.

“Absolutely,” Jonas said. “In fact,” he said. “I'll be there a minute early.” He smiled, trying to look earnest, but Marshall grumbled something under his breath and began scrolling through his documents.

Jonas walked to the elevator, and found he was still pretty pissed about his conversation with Alexander. There was a thought brewing in the back of his mind—something he'd forgotten from a dream, he suspected. He couldn't grasp it, though, and he got to his room and quickly dressed in his uniform. With his bowler hat perched on his head, he went upstairs—two minutes late.

Jonas had his apologetic smile ready for Marshall as he stepped off the elevator, and was surprised when he saw Samantha walking in the front doors. Marshall jumped to attention and headed out to meet her at the same time Jonas did. The three of them stopped, awkwardly looking at each other. Jonas realized with disgust that he had forgotten his place. He was just the doorman.

“Miss Birnam-Wood,” Marshall said, his eyes flicking immediately to Jonas. “What are you doing here?”

Sam didn't miss a beat. “My father asked me to stop by to give these to Jonas.” She held up a manila folder, and Jonas straightened. There was no way she found information from her dad that easily. That quickly.

Marshall reached for the folder, but Sam pulled it back. “Sorry,” she said, “but these are personal files. He was hoping I could go over them with Jonas privately.”

“Of course,” Marshall said, obviously suspicious. “But if this is about his position here at the Eden, I assure you, I'm more than capable of—”

“It's not about the Eden,” Samantha told him, smiling politely. “It's personal.”

“I see.” Marshall slipped his hands into his suit pockets. “Mr. Anderson will already be docked the first fifteen minutes of his shift for being late, so you can use that time to…go over your papers. I expect you in,” he checked his watch and looked at Jonas, “eleven minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” Jonas said, nodding. He turned to Samantha, fighting his urge to smile at her. He motioned to the right of the elevator where there was a back hallway leading to a staff room.

Sam started in that direction, and as Jonas followed her, he could feel Marshall glaring at his back. Jonas and Sam walked swiftly down the hallway, trying to be inconspicuous. Samantha kept her head down and at the entry into the back hallway, Jonas held open the metal door. Samantha looked up as she passed him, her body grazing his. Jonas hitched in a breath and then laughed to himself, still crazy from their earlier moment in the closet. He stepped inside the dimly-lit hallway. The minute the door shut, Samantha grabbed his arm and pulled him close, kissing him. Her lips were on his, her fingers threading under his hat into his hair. Jonas kissed her hard as she backed him into the wall, banging his elbow painfully on the corner.

He drew back, breathing her in. He kissed her again, on the verge of forgetting about his job, about his dreams, about everything but her. He pulled away; desire left him spinning.

Sam ran her hand through her hair and swung to rest on the wall next to him, disheveled in the absolute sexiest way possible. They watched each other a moment, the tension thick between them.

Sam laughed, breaking the spell. “I actually did come here to talk to you,” she said.

Jonas smiled. “You're an amazing conversationalist.”

They waited a moment until the playfulness faded away. Sam's gaze softened. “I have to show you this,” she said, holding up the folder. “We should head to the office.” She pointed toward the door at the end of the hall and Jonas felt his heart sink. He didn't want to face his problems. He wished they would all just go away.

But he knew that wasn't an option, so he turned and followed Sam as she led him down the hall.

They walked inside the cramped office with vending machines in the corner filled with assorted snacks and beverages, and two circular tables with chairs that took up most of the space. If not for the posters of the Eden Hotel throughout history, the room would have been indistinguishable from the back room of a Home Depot. Sam took a seat at one of the tables across from Jonas.

“You're not going to believe this,” Sam said, tossing the folder on one of the tables. “I went into my father's office after the two of you left. He has a file cabinet, with the key in his desk. It's the same place we keep my birth certificate, his marriage license, everything else. It's not hidden, Jonas.”

Sam pulled the folder in front of her and opened it. “I found this file there. Now most of these go back to before I was born,” she said. “Drawings and interviews with other people.” Jonas glanced to where Sam was sorting papers and saw sketches of Night Terrors. He recognized them immediately.

“That's it,” Jonas said, rounding the table to lean down over Sam's shoulder. He grabbed one of the papers and examined the creature—its beady red eyes, the rows of sharp teeth and jagged scales. “Holy shit, that's it,” Jonas whispered.

Sam pulled out several other pictures that were similar, but with variations in color and size. They were definitely Night Terrors, though. “My father has nearly a dozen documented drawings, including the one you're holding.” She turned and her hair brushed over the paper. “That was my father's Night Terror,” she said.

Jonas swallowed hard, and laid the paper back on the table. “Where did he get the other pictures?” he asked. “Documented from where?”

Sam turned back and searched for a paper, the light above them flickered, buzzing softly. She picked up an official-looking paper that Jonas thought looked like a contract. Sam's face was serious. “Well,” she said, handing him the paper. “Turns out my father owns the Center for Sleep Science. He commissioned a doctor to direct a sleep study to find out more. She's studying dreams.”

Jonas felt Alexander's words come back to him: I know more than you think. “He hired Doctor Moss,” Jonas murmured.

Samantha furrowed her brow, and checked a paper before looking at him. “Uh, yeah,” she said. “How did you know that?”

Jonas met her eyes. “Because that's where my brother is. She's his doctor. Doctor Moss is treating him free of charge.” Jonas ran his hand through his hair as he sorted his thoughts. “So does that mean…is your father experimenting on my brother?”

“No,” Sam said immediately, but then paused. “I mean, I doubt it. He might just be trying to help him.”

Jonas wasn't buying it. He reached over and started rifling through the papers, intent on uncovering every detail. “What else is here?” he asked. “Is there anything in here about Alan?”

Sam pushed back in the chair, giving Jonas room as she watched him. “No, not that I saw,” she said. She leaned in and picked up a paper. “But I did find this.” Jonas didn't react at first, and Sam waved the paper in the air. “This was how my father beat his Night Terror. He gave Doctor Moss an account. There are a few others, too. Want the basic gist?”

Jonas leaned against the table, speechless. She'd found it. Sam had found the information for him and he was scared of what would come next. What he'd have to do to be free of his nightmares. He nodded.

“My father told Doctor Moss that the Night Terror is triggered by a tragic event. A highly emotional moment.”

“The accident,” Jonas said, sitting on the edge of the table as he listened. The refrigerator began to hum in the corner of the room. “I bet that's when it started. Alan and I must have found a way to avoid it after our parents' death, keeping each other from the grief. But then, after the accident, Alan was gone. The Night Terror showed up in the subway.” Sam looked at him questioningly. “The subway in my dreams,” Jonas explained.

“My father's Night Terror first found him when he was nine,” Sam said, glancing down at the paper. “He had a twin sister named Maren.” Sam pressed her lips together sympathetically. “He never talks about her,” she added. “She drowned at their lake house. After that, my father's Night Terror chased him for nearly ten years.”

“How did he finally beat it?” Jonas asked.

Sam pointed to a section on the paper. “Here,” she said. “But it's not good news.” She put her finger on a sentence and started reading aloud. “To beat the Night Terror,” she read, “one must face their fear. The monster is part of you, from you, of you. To defeat it, you must embrace the darkest part of yourself and absorb it. It's the only way the creature will stop chasing you.” She paused. “It says the pain is so intense that Dream Walkers have to remove their souls.” She looked up at Jonas, concerned. “It doesn't say anything about Poets, though.”

“Your father doesn't have a high regard for Poets,” Jonas said. He was about to tell her about what happened to the last Poet, according to Molly, but the office door swung open, startling them both.

Hillenbrand poked in his head, his hat in his hands. “Oh,” he said, catching sight of Sam and Jonas alone in the room together. “Uh, sorry,” he said with a knowing smile, as if he just put together why Alexander Birnam-Wood looked so pissed earlier.

Jonas quickly gathered up the papers and shoved them back in the file. “We need to talk to Doctor Moss and check on Alan,” he leaned in to tell Sam. He handed her the file and quickly rounded the table to approach Hillenbrand.

“Hey,” Jonas said in an apologetic voice. “Is there any way…I really need your help. I have to go see my brother. It's important. Can you cover for me?”

Hillenbrand opened the door the rest of the way, but the doubt in his eyes was easy to read. “I don't know,” he stated. “I've already covered for you once this week. And I really need this job.”

“Marshall won't fire you,” Sam said, coming to stand next to Jonas. “I'll make sure.” Jonas glanced over at her, slightly annoyed that she had to depend on her dad's clout, but more relieved that it might actually work.

“I'll give you my entire check,” Jonas said. Hillenbrand seemed to waver, and Jonas grabbed his arm. “For the month,” he clarified.

Hillenbrand smiled. “Okay,” he agreed. “But Miss Birnam-Wood's car is with the valet. Take the back door and go around. You can't let Marshall see you leave. I'll tell him the doctor called you with an emergency and I offered to take your shift.”

Jonas sighed appreciatively. “You're the best,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” Hillenbrand said, but he looked good-
natured enough so Jonas took Sam's hand and the two escaped into the hallway.

They jogged down the corridor toward a metal door with an EXIT sign perched above it. Jonas pushed open the door and was immediately whipped in the face with rain, and wind that blew his hat to the ground. The door slammed shut behind him, and Sam started running for the protection of the awning. Jonas picked up his hat, brushed mud from the brim, and slipped it on his head.