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"I'm sorry. It was just. . . I wanted to make a new life. "
"And I was part of the old one. We already had this talk. I get it. "
I put a hand on her arm. "I was wrong. You were the best friend I ever had. The best friend I'll ever have. "
"Yes, I am. "
I laughed. "So, we're best friends again?"
"No. " Grace opened the door and stepped outside as my heart took a dive toward my feet. "We were always best friends, Claire. That never changed, even when you did. "
I waited until she started the squad car, then backed down the drive and onto the road before I went to bed.
I didn't think I'd sleep. Having my nightmare show up on the doorstep should have been. . . well, my worst nightmare. But it had turned out okay. In fact, I felt like I'd faced my demon and survived.
Sure I'd frozen when the going got tough, but with a little help from Malachi I'd managed to keep from retreating into a corner and talking to myself. I'd taken steps to end Josh's days of
freedom. I'd make certain he hurt no one else, and I'd prevent him from assuming a position of trust and power in my home state. All in all, a good night's work.
I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow, or at least I thought I did. Because, what happened after the mist drifted in my window again felt very real.
I lay on the bed as the fog spilled over the sill, crept across the floor, across me. The cool, gentle trail was a touch upon my naked body, making me writhe and thrash and beg for more. I floated above myself, a voyeur, yet I could feel every stroke.
My nipples pebbled; my breasts swelled; my legs fell open so the mist could swirl across the damp, red curls. I felt the lap of a tongue just once, and I arched off the bed, my body bowing, straining for a release that was so close I heard it humming just out of reach.
The mist retreated as if it were being sucked out the window by a whirlwind.
"No," I said, and the sound of my own voice woke me up.
I'd kicked off all the covers, but I wasn't naked as I'd been in the dream. However, my body was perched on the edge of orgasm, skin tingling, chest heaving, mind whirling as wildly as the mist had.
Something shifted at the foot of the bed. A set of yellow eyes seemed to hover a few inches above the mattress, and I gasped. Oprah jumped to the floor and stalked away, disgusted with me.
I didn't blame her. These erotic dreams were becoming as bad as the nightmares.
The wind blew in the window, fluttering the curtains. Wait a second. . .
The window had been open in my dream, but I thought it had been closed when I went to bed.
Slowly I turned my head in that direction.
Chapter 21
"Dinna be afraid. "
I started up, grasping at the covers, yanking them to my chin, even as I recognized the voice, as well as the man thrown into midnight silhouette by the light of the moon through my open window.
"What are you doing here?" My fear had turned to fury. "How did you get in?"
"The window was open. "
I frowned, trying to remember. Had it been? Maybe. But -
"This is the second floor. "
"Did you think someone could not get in if they were of a mind to?"
I'd thought exactly that. The house was big in the way of old houses, the ceilings high, which put the second story much farther off the ground than most second stories. There was no convenient drainpipe near my window, and only slick, painted wood surrounded it.
