A Lovely Nightmare: A Paranormal Romance Novel

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A Lovely Nightmare: A Paranormal Romance Novel Page 19

by Wendy Cole


  “Red.”

  She smiled sheepishly. “Alright. I’m sorry. Carry on.”

  I took a deep breath in through my nose. “Brady texted me.”

  “Was it nudes?”

  “No.”

  “Damn! Alright. What did it say?”

  “He said he’s coming here, and I didn’t tell Owen about it. I don’t know why. Part of me wants everything he said to be real, but from what Doogal said, that’s probably his magic still affecting my judgement.” My voice grew soft, the emotions once again bubbling up to the surface. “Why does it hurt so much?”

  Red grew more serious at the pain in my voice. She scooted closer, throwing her arm over my shoulder. “Are you sure Owen is telling the truth?” she asked softly. “How do you know?”

  “I contacted him. He’s been helping me. He’d left to go get his friend. No matter how much I want to, I know he’s telling the truth. He has no reason not to.”

  “Then it hurts because your heart is broken.” Red’s voice took on a new quality. Something I’d never thought I’d associate with her. In that moment, Red sounded wise beyond her years. “People suck. All they do is hurt each other.”

  I leaned back to look at her face. I noticed the moisture building in her eyes, but no sooner did it appear, she blinked it away. “But, that’s why you have to wait and find the right one.”

  I nodded, then lay my head back down against her shoulder. “I’m really happy I met you, Red.”

  She patted my hair like a puppy. “You too. I never thought I’d meet anyone weirder than me. It’s a huge confidence boost. Plus, you’re like a bug zapper for hot men.”

  I smiled, despite the tinge of regret her words brought me.

  ***

  After what felt like hours of talking, Red and I finally decided to venture out of the bedroom and find out more about what I was dealing with.

  We found Owen and Doogal sitting together in the living room, talking seriously in hushed tones. The moment they caught a view of us coming down the stairs, they’re conversation stopped.

  “Hi,” Owen greeted with a soft smile. “I’m glad you girls came down. Are you hungry?”

  “We’d like extra strong drinks,” Red proclaimed like royalty.

  “None for—”

  Red elbowed me. “Don’t listen to her. She needs the strongest of them all. My girl is dealing with some thangs right now.”

  Owen grinned at Red, then over to me. “I’ll see what we have.”

  Doogal sat solemnly studying us, his expression is as serious as ever. He motioned a hand towards the open chairs and nodded in invitation.

  Red ignored the empty seats and took the space right beside him on the couch, while I chose one of the tall leather back seats in front of them.

  I watched her lean close to him, undeterred by his still deadpan expression, then held my breath as she shot me a wink. “So, Doogal,” she began, dragging out the name and smiling at my warning look. “What do you do?”

  His eyes cut over to her, and the ghost of a smile twitched his lips. “I do lots of things.” He looked back over at me, then in a flurry of motion, his hands moved through the air and produced a long-stemmed rose.

  Red’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened wide. “Do it again!”

  This time he did smile, and the expression helped to soften the intimidating presence he usually put off. He did it again, producing another, then in a move like a true gentleman, he handed one to each of us.

  “I love you,” Red said, practically swooning.

  I offered a soft smile of my own, then a larger one as I watched Red.

  Owen walked back into the room, holding a tray with a glass bottle full of amber liquid and four rock glasses. “I found some scotch I’d been saving.” He placed it onto the coffee table and took the open chair to my right.

  I thought about refusing as he leaned forward to pour the glasses, but given my current situation, decided not to. It couldn’t hurt. Nothing could hurt as bad as the feelings warring within me. Maybe it would help.

  He handed me mine, his eyes level, and a small smile on his lips. “May your life now be as it was always meant to.”

  I swallowed hard, uncertain how to take his toast. While it was a nice sentiment, my life had never been anything less than chaotic. Still, I lifted the glass and drank when everyone else did.

  It burned, far worse than anything I’d ever tried, but the more I swallowed, the easier it became. In a way, the burn was nice. I could feel it even when it hit my stomach, and the warming sensation brought comfort.

  Red didn’t get any less crazy when combined with alcohol. The more she consumed, the more loose she became. “Do more magic! Please!” she insisted, practically on top of Doogal as she gripped his shoulders and shook him.

  He didn’t seem to mind. Owen joined in, and between the two of them, it was actually pretty impressive. I found myself focused enough on the private show, that I didn’t even think about the other stuff, about Brady. The pain eased as the bottle emptied.

  It went on for hours, and the clock above the fireplace read three in the morning. A yawn escaped me, my mind fuzzy and light. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

  Red pouted, but didn’t argue. “Alright.” She looked at the two men. “It’s okay if I crash here, right?”

  “Of course,” Owen answered easily. “You can stay as long as you like.”

  She shot him a wink, then bumped her shoulder into Doogal. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  He grinned over at her. “Not at all.”

  Red bit her lip, then stopped as she looked back at me. “Right. Bed. I’m coming too.”

  Standing let me know just how much I’d drunk, and Red didn’t seem any steadier. The pair of us wobbled up the stairs, using each other as well as the rail for support.

  The moment we hit the bed, Red was out. I, on the other hand, stayed awake. My phone lay face down on the nightstand, and temptation filtered through me like wisps of fog as I stared at it.

  Had he texted me again?

  Could I text him back?

  I grabbed the device, but no new alerts lit my screen. The message he’d sent before might as well have been a tether, connecting me to thoughts of him no matter how hard I fought to avoid them. Like a glutton for punishment, I opened it up and read it again, my fingers poised over the keys.

  I was just about to give in, to do what my heart wanted and text him. Part of me longed for him to tell me it was all lies. That same part wanted to believe him when he ultimately denied the claims. My drunken mind left alone to its own devices didn’t want to be responsible. I had no desire for logic. Logic was painful. Logic was less than what I’d felt with him.

  Then the closet door creaked and pulled my attention away from the screen.

  The artificial light from my phone in the otherwise dark room made it impossible to see. My heart stuttered as another creak echoed through the room, too loud in the otherwise deathly quiet. I turned the phone around, shining the light in the direction, and a scream ripped from my lungs. Red eyes filled the opening.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  I threw a hand over my mouth, muffling the scream and plunging myself back into silence. My chest rose and fell heavily, quickly, almost rivaling the pace of my pounding heart. I stared at the glowing red orbs, and just like when I was a child, I forced myself to hold the fear in.

  When I was finally able to remove my hand, I whispered, “Brady?”

  The darkness spread, too thick to see through, but the moment I uttered the word, an outline slowly formed. First a head, then shoulders, then legs, but no details, just a flat, black shape, a sinister shadow. A smile split across its face, straight white teeth across an otherwise devoid darkness, and it shook its head left to right. An answer.

  No.

  My mouth slammed shut at its response, and my shaking hand moved to the girl behind me. Red slept heavily, her deep, even breaths easily heard through the otherwise deafenin
g silence. I nudged her once, then again, but she wouldn’t respond.

  The black outline stepped forward, and its eyes seemed to flash. “Do you want to play?” Its raspy voice slithered across the room. A whimper slipped past my defenses. I’d heard the question a hundred times, heard that voice, that raspy breathing.

  It moved forward another inch, bringing the darkness with it.

  Fuck this.

  “Red!” I turned around and shook her hard.

  Red jumped up and tried to get her bearings. Her eyes darted across the room, then landed on me. “What is it?!” They drifted over my shoulder, and I saw the moment she noticed it, the monster. My monster.

  Red could see it too.

  “What the fuck is that!” she shouted, jumping to her knees on the mattress then dragging me backward across it. We plummeted to the floor, like two war heroes in battle. Red shoved me down, then peeked back over the top. “Fucking fuck! What the fuck is that thing!”

  I couldn’t speak. The familiar fear I’d grown to know so well enveloped me, like the darkness that continued to edge closer, wrapping me tight, entering my mouth and stealing my breath.

  “Amelia!” Red shouted, taking in my frozen state. “Dammit.” She chewed her lip, then her face set into determined lines. “It’s always the redhead that has to be the badass. That’s why people call us angry. We’re not angry; we just don’t want to die.” She stood back up, forming a cross with a finger from each hand. “Get back non-sexy demon! Only sexy demons allowed!”

  A raspy laugh flowed like water through the room. It echoed all around us, taunting, terrifying.

  I felt its power. It’s anger. It’s joy. Not a moment later, Red flew backward, hitting the wall hard before landing on the floor in a heap.

  It was enough to snap me out of my fear. “Red!”

  She didn’t respond. Her body was completely limp and entirely too still.

  “You belong to me,” the same raspy voice hissed, much closer, too close.

  I looked up, and there it was. Glowing red eyes stared down, and darkness loomed above. I didn’t think. My only focus in that moment was saving my friend. I whipped around, putting my back in front of her, making myself a human shield. “Fuck off!”

  Another laugh. That gleaming white smile. “I’m never going to leave,” it hissed. “You belong to me.”

  It crept forward, almost gliding. I threw my hands out on either side of me and squeezed my eyes shut tight. The room once again became wrapped in terrifying silence, but it didn’t last long. Deep raspy breaths edged closer, painfully slow. My heart stopped beating. My lungs shriveled.

  An icy hand ran across my cheek, and I couldn’t stop another scream from ripping out of me. Eyes still shut tight, I swung my fist out, desperate to defend myself in any way I could.

  But instead of making contact, I found myself falling.

  My eyes opened just as I hit the floor.

  I wasn’t in the bedroom.

  Red wasn’t behind me.

  It wasn’t dark, but instead, morning sun spilled into the living space.

  I looked over and realized I’d fallen from the same chair I’d been sitting in the night before.

  Owen rushed into the room. “Are you okay?” His eyes held concern. “I heard you scream. Here, let me help you.”

  I eyed his outstretched hand before reluctantly accepting it. “Thank you. I had a nightmare.” I looked around the room. “Where’s Red?” My voice shook, and I fought to vanquish the lingering remnants of the dream from my mind. It had been so real. Just how I’d remembered it.

  “She left early this morning. Said she had class.”

  I nodded my head, then retook the seat I’d fallen from.

  “What was your nightmare about?” Owen asked, taking the chair next to me.

  I sucked in a breath. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  He nodded softly. “Alright. But if you need to talk, let me know. I suffered from night terrors myself, so I’ll be more than happy to help in whatever way I can.”

  “Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say. It was nice. Owen was nice. But I doubted sitting around crying would do anything to help my situation. I awkwardly looked around, avoiding the still concerned gaze fixed on me. “Is there anything I can do to speed things along,” I asked as I met his eyes again. “I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but the sooner I can return to my normal life, the better.”

  Owen leaned back in his chair and let his eyes linger on the couch across from us. He didn’t speak for a full minute, seemingly lost in thought. When he finally straightened back up, he said, “I’ve got an idea.” He stood without waiting for a response and walked out of the room, stopping only briefly to motion for me to follow.

  yard, and Red hadn’t been lying about it feeling like a compound. The area stretched out, on and on before it was cut off by a thick line of trees. Doogal was performing some sort of training. It reminded me of the morning I’d seen Brady stood in the ocean. Each motion was reminiscent of martial arts. His arms moved and swirled, while his legs did the same, like a dance, completely in harmony. The only difference was, when Doogal moved, light followed—bright indigo and vivid.

  “What is he doing?” I asked past the lump in my throat. How did he have light? “How can he do that?”

  Owen laid a hand on my shoulder. “He’s performing magic—real magic, not the parlor tricks we showed you and your friend.” He motioned towards Doogal. “Let him teach you.”

  My eyes widened. “Teach me that?” I looked down to the man in question, to the bright swirls appearing from thin air.

  Owen laughed softly. “Maybe not quite that, but he can teach you how to protect yourself. He taught me.”

  I took in the tattooed head, stiff stance, and all-around intimidating presence of Doogal. “I don’t know.” I chewed my lip. “Doogal’s kind of scary.”

  “Is he?” Owen grinned. “Am I?”

  “Not really.” I shrugged. “You’re easier to talk to. Doogal is a little more,” I paused, searching for a word, “dark.”

  Owen laughed, big, loud, and more than I thought warranted given what I’d said. The sound caught the other man’s attention, and I watched Doogal stop his motions and turn around to study us.

  “Amelia thinks you’re scary!” Owen called.

  My mouth fell open. “I didn’t mean tell him!”

  Doogal rolled his eyes.

  Owen smiled. “I was just suggesting you teach her some magic.” His smile widened. “I think it’s a great idea.”

  Doogal’s flat look didn’t exactly scream agreement, but he motioned me over. I paused for a moment, but the look the two men gave me convinced me to comply. It couldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do while I was locked up inside this cult fortress.

  The moment I made it to where Doogal stood, he waved a hand at Owen. “You can go away.”

  I caught Owen’s playful look before he retreated back into the house.

  Doogal eyed me up, from my feet to my head, not looking impressed. “Don’t get your hopes up,” he said in that same deep even tone. “Just because I show you, doesn’t mean that you can do it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  “It’s not working!” I snapped as I allowed my arms to flop down to my sides. It was a sweet relief. The muscles along my biceps and forearms had been crying for an hour, unused to the abuse Doogal was inflicting.

  Doogal grabbed my wrist and lifted them back up into their previous position. “You just have to concentrate.”

  I let out a growl. “I’ve been concentrating for hours! It doesn’t work. I’m not magical!”

  “Try again.”

  Anger consumed me, and with a sound that couldn’t be human, I looked to the little white circle he’d made in the grass and imagined it bursting into flames.

  It sparked.

  “Holy shit!” I let my arms fall. “Did you see that?” I’d done it. I’d made it do that. That spa
rk of bright reddish orange had been because of me.

  “Very impressive,” Doogal said. “It only took you six hours to achieve it, and it lasted less than a second.”

  I glared at him, but my smile wouldn’t dull. “I don’t care what you say. I’m proud of my little spark.”

  Doogal’s lip twitched. “You should be.” He moved closer and took my hand, holding it palm up. “You aren’t meant to do magic. No human is.” He pulled my hand up, his hold on my wrist, then softly high fived it as his eyes stayed glued to mine. “Good job.”

  My lips curved even more. “Thanks, Doogal.”

  He nodded once. “Now. Defensive magic. You need to be able to defend.” Two of his fingers came up to rest upon his temple. “You just need to use your mind. It’s all here. Humans have the capacity to do anything a jinni can; they’re just incapable of utilizing the majority of their brain power.”

  “And you can?” I lifted a brow at him.

  Doogal’s lips twitched again. “As a matter of fact, I can.”

  “Bullshit.”

  He shrugged. “Think what you want. I’m just explaining how it works.”

  He didn’t even blink as he met my gaze head on. He seemed relaxed, as if it couldn’t matter less to him whether I learned the magic or not.

  “So how do you do defensive magic? There are runes, right? Like Owen gave me.”

  The ghost of something crossed his face, but I couldn’t read the expression. “Runes are like Tupperware. I take some of my magic, and the rune holds it. The more magic I put, the more powerful the rune.” He motioned behind him to the house. “The stones that make up this house are full of magic, and the property line is surrounded with them, buried just beneath the dirt. It’s the only thing keeping your friend out of here.”

  “So, he can’t come in at all?” My eyes roamed the house, then the expansive amount of land surrounding it.

  “Not yet.” Doogal’s mouth set into a grim line. “But the King of the Jinn is very powerful.”

  My heart stuttered. “What did you call him?”

  His mouth set into a grim line. “That’s what he’s known as, but it’s just a name. Jinn don’t have a king. They have elders, the most powerful among them. They bind themselves to the etheric plane and lead the people. You just happened to stumble upon one of the most powerful, and without having taken the oath to be an elder, he has no tie. He’s virtually uncontrollable.”

 

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