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“I thought you were going to wait for us downstairs.” Kane steered Steven out of the bedroom.
“I wanted to check if you need anything. I don’t have much at the moment. I can offer you water or a protein bar.”
“We’re good, thanks.” I sat on the edge of Ashley’s bed and examined the items on the bedside table. There was a blank journal, presumably purchased for the pretty floral cover, as well as a stuffed grey cat. My gaze lingered on the cat. This wasn’t my usual method, so I wasn’t sure which personal item might allow me to access Ashley’s nightmares.
“Give me a shout if you…” Kane closed the door before Steven could finish his statement.
I reached across the bed and hefted the sparkly pink pillow in the shape of the letter ‘A.’ “I’m going to use this.” I wiggled my fingers. “Move along now. There’s no need to stay in the room. It’s distracting.”
“What? No spooning? How disappointing. I even wore my softest shirt.”
I pointed to the door. “Out.”
The demon left but not before flashing one last mischievous smile. I still didn’t understand his willingness to help. He categorized a lot of things as ‘bad for business’ that seemed to have no connection to the Devil’s Playground. Ashley had disappeared from Monk’s in a different section of town, and nobody was pointing the finger at demons.
Although maybe they should be. As I set the decorative pillow on my lap, I pondered whether Kane’s ulterior motive could be to mask his own involvement. What better way to cover his tracks than to ‘assist’ me in my investigation? Although I’d watched him at Anya’s crime scene and everything had seemed genuinely new to him, that didn’t mean he was innocent in connection to Ashley. Anya’s death could be unrelated.
Or maybe he simply wanted to know more about my hidden powers and thought that staying close to me would yield the answers. That I understood. I’d been thinking of returning to the club for the same purpose.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on the fluffy pillow. I pictured Ashley hugging the pillow to her chest, the soft material absorbing her tears. She’d endured a fair amount of heartbreak in her short years. I felt like I understood her; maybe that was the real reason I’d agreed to help Steven. The computer had been an excuse to justify my involvement to myself.
Eventually, the pillow dissipated, and I was touching—nothing. A void.
I threw the pillow across the room in frustration.
I fell back against the regular pillow and tried to get comfortable. If I could tap into the right nightmare, I might find Ashley. I closed my eyes, focusing on the emotions associated with Ashley’s disappearance. Steven’s sense of responsibility following the death of their parents. Nana Pratt’s concern.
There was no easy way to prepare for entry into the land of nightmares. I’d be used to them by now if I were more willing to use my abilities.
My mind flashed through a series of unsettling images. A few were more humorous than scary, like one that featured a talking hat, although it was unlikely funny to the person experiencing the dream. My heart rate increased as the horrors intensified. I stopped the mental page from turning when my mind’s eye snagged on a familiar place.
Monk’s.
Someone had experienced a nightmare about the dive bar. To be fair, some dive bars were a living nightmare, but Monk’s wasn’t one of them.
The counter and stools were splashed with blood. Patrons were sprawled across the floor. A young woman rose from the heap of bodies. Despite the cuts and bruises, I recognized her face.
Ashley Pratt.
Her T-shirt and shorts were torn. Thorny vines broke through the wooden floor on either side of her; they twisted around her body like serpents, holding her in place. Worms pushed through her eye sockets.
She opened her mouth and screamed.
I bolted upright in response to the earsplitting sound. I heard the sound of ragged breathing and realized it was my own. Fading beams of sunlight streamed into my bedroom.
My bedroom? How did I get here?
I untangled the damp and twisted sheets that were wrapped around my legs.
“Welcome back, sunshine,” a smooth voice said.
I leapt from the bed. Kane sat in the oversized chair in the corner of my bedroom.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” I demanded.
He held up a book—my well-worn copy ofPride & Prejudice. “Reading, until I was rudely interrupted by your scream. I’m desperate to know what happens to Lydia.”
I steadied my breathing. “What are you doing in my room?” I ground out.
