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SUMMER
Iam awakened by soft and beautiful humming. It is a low, melancholic melody that I remember hearing in my sleep, followed by a loud, solitary cry. I open my eyes to darkness and, for a moment, panic sets in. The cry seemed so real, so distinct, and markedly feminine.
I lie still, my eyes wide open, waiting for it to happen again, wondering if it was just a part of my dream. All I hear are the occasional cracks in the walls, like whispers from the deceased. The noise from the party outside must have faded away by now. Dani is probably upset that I never responded to her texts.
But I heard something, or someone—
The draft…there is a draft. Which means there is fresh air coming from somewhere.
Lincoln is curled around me in a deep sleep. So many sounds are coming out of the walls, it’s a wonder how I ever fell asleep. Creaks and moans, the furnace kicking on and off, and a cool breeze hits me. Light footsteps pattering on the floors above us, lingering from whatever was going on upstairs while we were down here, getting lost in each other.
Lincoln adjusts himself, but keeps his arm wrapped around me, holding me tightly in the same position we fell asleep in.
Even the supernatural, god of all things, master of minds, still needs sleep like us mere mortals.
I can’t help but smile. The bulge pressing against my lower back is mortal too, so is his heartbeat and the orgasms I gave him last night, leaving me wet and sticky. Everything about him seemed real and human as he held his body close to mine after he finished.
I’m still overwhelmed by what he said to me. That he was created solely to protect me, that his entire existence revolves around me.
He is my protector.
I clung to him, refusing to let go until I succumbed to darkness. No mind control needed. I’d have given him anything he wanted in that moment—dead or alive.
After we finished, I passed out in a peaceful drug-infused bliss. And now I’m wide awake and cold, even with his hot breath tickling my ear. I turn toward him, wiping his soft hair across his brow, appreciating how vulnerable he is at this moment. I could kill him right now if I wished.
Real. Lincoln Kennedy is real.
He shifts momentarily, and I lay my head in the crook of his arm and his breath softens. Then I hear it again…a soft cry, a soft sob in the air, deep in the walls and I shoot up.
We’re not alone down here.
I shiver. Another breeze touches my bare skin and Lincoln doesn’t hear it. He keeps his breath steady.
Goosebumps pebble my flesh as I rise like a ghost and tiptoe across the room. My eyes can distinguish the furniture, while my hands trace the pillars, guiding me to the darker corner, toward the only other door in the basement.
I pause, turning my head toward the bed. It’s warmer there than creeping around naked. The sheets are soft against my bare skin. He’s soft too, especially when he’s asleep.
I hear it again. Soft sobbing coming from somewhere in this basement. What’s left of my shattered conscience pushes me forward. That or jealousy, I’m not sure which one at this point.
If Lincoln has another girl down here, I will be the one doing the slaughtering. And it won’t be her…I’ll mutilate him.
Tiptoeing silently on bare feet, I cautiously open the door. I step inside and close the door behind me. My breath is heavy, my stomach in a tight knot. The air is fresher and cleaner, as if it’s coming directly from outside.
I stumble forward in the dark and listen. “Hello,” I whisper.
Silence.
I frown. “Hello? Is someone here?” I whisper again.
A pause…
“Help me, please.” A muffled cry comes from inside the walls.
I turn and press my hands up toward the wall from where I heard her.
“Cali?”
Another pause. “Please, get me out of here, he has me.”
