Falling Under

by Gwen Hayes

  Finally I was able to break the spell and look away. I glanced once more, met his eyes, and pushed off the rail and back through the swarm of bodies. He’d hollowed me completely. All I could think of was getting out of there. I needed fresh air and silence.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The girl in his arms writhed against him becomingly. Pity that she couldn’t satisfy the dark need inside him. The ache that grew and licked at him like flames. There was only one who could fill that void. And Theia would want nothing to do with him now; he’d made sure of that.

  It was better this way. Better for her that she hated him. Safer for them both.

  He’d barely begun the familiar argument with himself when he found himself following her to the door. He knew all the reasons he should leave her be—he knew it would end badly. If he touched her . . . God help them all if he touched her.

  There wasn’t enough room in my heart for all the feelings Haden was trying to put into it. The longing warred with the anger in a violent battle for supremacy. How much easier it would have been if I could have just hated him.

  I burst through the doors and the cold shock of air spurred a crop of goose bumps across my bare skin instantly. Curse Donny and her makeover that left me in a dark parking lot looking like a hooker while she seduced the only nice boy I’d ever spent any time with. Curse Gabe for not being the one who interested me. Curse Haden for being the one who did.

  “This is a new look for you.”

  I whipped around, a mistake on ridiculous heels. Attempting to regain my balance and dignity, I dropped my purse.

  Haden strolled towards me, stooping to retrieve the purse. Straightening, he offered the strap, dangling it from his finger while his eyes roamed my body dangerously. I wondered which Haden I was dealing with—the one from my dreams or the one from school. His gaze suggested sinful things wherever it landed on my skin and I wondered if maybe there was a third Haden after all.

  I snatched the purse and shrugged, trying to remember I was angry with him. “Don’t get used to it. I turn back into a mouse at midnight.”

  “You’re no mouse, Theia.” He paused. “I also didn’t say I liked your new look. I don’t care for it much at all.”

  I shrugged once again. How kind of him to grind me into the ground before he scraped me off his shoe.

  “What are you doing out here alone?” he asked. “It’s really not safe.”

  Unable to come up with a coherent answer to that, I stared at him like he was out of his mind. Why on earth did he even pretend to care?

  “There is a lot of drug activity here,” he explained, as if the scariest thing in my world was drug dealers.

  “I don’t feel especially safe anywhere lately. Not even my own bed,” I taunted. I wasn’t trying to be sexual, though I’m sure it sounded that way. I was hoping he’d say something to prove he was aware of the dreams.

  He didn’t take the bait, but did arch a brow. “Perhaps you need a better security system.”

  “Shouldn’t you be getting back to your date?”

  “I didn’t bring a date.” That didn’t mean he wasn’t leaving with one.

  The wind picked up and I shivered. I was going to have to go back into the club and I really, really didn’t want to. Haden was right, though, I wasn’t safe alone in the parking lot, even if there weren’t roaming drug dealers and other “purveyors of dark” around. I’d let my frustration push me into irrational behavior.

  “I should go.” I made an effort to step around him on his right, but he moved the same way and blocked me. Thinking it was a mistake, I went the other way and he blocked me again.

  “Sorry,” he said, with no trace of regret.

  “Are you going to pull my pigtails next?”

  He laughed, the good kind. “Probably. I don’t know what it is about you, Theia. It seems to bring out the bad boy in me.”

  “Is there another kind of boy in you, Haden?”

  He stared into my eyes while he shook his head no. The scrutiny made me self-conscious. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was so dry. Without thinking, I licked my lower lip.

  It was as if the action pushed a button and opened a gate. He took a heavy step towards me, wild and unbound. I shivered with equal parts fear and excitement. And then he stopped short of putting his hands on me.

  Someone had started a car, and the headlights shone on us like a spotlight. I saw the same battle in his eyes that I fought within myself. He didn’t want to want me—but he did. Without thinking, I reached for a lock of his jet-black hair. I thought only to brush it away from his eyes, but he backed away quickly. “Don’t touch me,” he growled. “Never touch me.”

  My hand was still suspended in a futile pose where his face had been a moment before. I snatched it back, and the familiar burning near my heart signaled that another crushing blow to my esteem had been delivered. I willed the stinging tears to wait. Just wait. Not now, not in front of him.

  “Why do you hate me so much?” I couldn’t keep the words in, though I wished I could. All I was doing was providing him more ammunition.

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “I just don’t understand why you find it so amusing to be nice to me one minute and mock me the next. The way you stared at me from the balcony . . . Why were you so angry? What could I possibly have done to you to make you so mad?”

  Haden’s hands pressed against his temples like he was trying to hold back a headache. “Truthfully, I didn’t like the way you were flaunting yourself in front of everyone. Your dress . . . the way you look tonight—it’s shameless.”

  I exhaled a very unladylike snort that would have forced my father’s temple to throb with displeasure. But that was fine. For once, my own displeasure was more important to me. “What I wear is none of your business, Haden.”

  “No, I don’t suppose it is.”

  “I was dressed no differently than any other girl in that club,” I argued, even though he’d just agreed with me.

  “But you are different from all those other girls.” His pupils enlarged, darkening his eyes eerily.

  “Yes, I know. You don’t need to keep reminding me.” I crossed my arms instinctively. “If you’ll excuse me, I can remove my distasteful person from your sight.”

  “Distasteful?” he scoffed. “You still don’t get it.” He took a step away from me. “Is that what you think? That I’m not tempted? That I don’t find you more delectable than the sweetest fruit?”

  “Is that what the blonde was on the dance floor? The sweetest fruit? What kind of teenager talks like that, Haden? What are you?”

  He didn’t answer. Of course.

  “Does she know you touched her for my benefit?”

  Haden looked away. “No. I don’t think she does.”

  I was inhaling in gasps too big to consume. “You’re a user. You play games with people for fun. Me, the girl in the club, Brittany, Noelle—all of us are like pawns to you. I don’t know who you really are, Haden, or where you really come from, but I think you’re the devil.”

  “You’re absolutely right.” I hadn’t imagined it—his eyes were changing. There was very little white left in them at all. “I’ve tried to stay away from you, Theia. I don’t think I can, but God knows I’ve tried.”

  His expression, wild and unrestrained, put a cold terror in my heart. I stepped back. He began to move towards me and then stopped himself. He drew in a ragged breath and it sounded like the word “no” escaped his lips before the windows of every vehicle in the parking lot shattered.

  The sound of the blast made me lose my footing on the stupid stiletto heels and I fell to the ground. Glass sprayed, raining glittery shards on us—me on my knees and Haden lording over me with the look of the devil in his eyes.

  I didn’t understand what was happening. There were more explosions as the bulbs in streetlights and neon signs burst from their casings.

  “Haden?” I cried. Lightning gashed open the sky and the wind whipped the dust and gl
ass around me. I covered my face with one hand and tried to reach for him with the other. “Haden, help me up, please.”

  I looked up through my fingers, but he’d gone. I covered my head with my arms as the sky rumbled as loudly as if Earth had collided with another planet. Hail the size of peas poured out of the sky.

  He’d left me on my knees while begging him for help. Alone.

  Donny and Gabe found me a few minutes later, curled into a ball and shivering. Gabe coaxed his coat onto me. I should have said thank you, but I don’t think I did.

  They took me home before the authorities arrived, cleaned me up, and made me tea without asking me to talk or answer a single question. One of my shoulders had taken a fair amount of glass, but the cuts were superficial. I caught their worried glances at each other, but pretended not to notice and let numbness shape itself over me like a second skin.

  I stared at the violent storm outside the window, drinking my tea and pushing their murmured voices from my mind until I realized Donny was telling Gabe to go, that she’d stay with me through the night.

  “No,” I interrupted. “I’m fine. You should both go.”

  “Theia, I’m not leaving you like this. Something happened to you out there—”

  I shrugged farther into the soft blanket she’d put around my shoulders. “Yes, the weather happened to me out there. It was a frightening storm to be caught in. But I’m fine now.” I needed to be alone. My mind couldn’t process anything while they hovered over me.

  “Thei—” she began.

  “I need to sleep, Donny. Please, I’ll be fine.”

  A few more minutes of arguing convinced her, though she was still reluctant to go. Gabe checked all the doors and windows while Donny and I walked to the door.

  “How did I end up with Sir Fucking Galahad, Thei?” She hadn’t lost her panache for language, but already Donny’s face seemed softer to me.

  “He seems like a really nice bloke.” Usually her club pickups convinced her to leave her friends behind. Gabe had insisted on seeing me home and checking locks.

  She rolled her eyes. “You know, he told me he wouldn’t sleep with me? While we were dancing, for God’s sake. He just announced that there would be no sex until he was satisfied that I wasn’t using him for his body.”

  The first smile of the night swept my face. “But you are using him for his body, aren’t you?” I played along.

  “Of course. Now it’s just going to take me longer.” Donny grabbed my shoulders gently and looked soulfully into my eyes, searching for cracks in my facade, I was sure. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can stay. The sky is still pissing rain and I don’t think we’ll get the end of the thunder anytime soon. It’s a bad night to be alone in this huge house.” She didn’t mention all the broken windshields at the club. Hers only had a long, jagged crack. Gabe’s car wasn’t as lucky. I already knew the newspaper would blame the storm.

  “I’ll sleep through it. Go on, will you? Maybe you can at least get to second base tonight still.”

  “Honey, we got to second base on the dance floor.”

  My turn to roll my eyes at her, and then good-byes were said. I locked the door behind them, then slid down it slowly as exhaustion, physical and emotional, rolled over me in waves. As tired as I was, I knew I wouldn’t sleep.

  The wind howled, vicious and malevolent. Shrubs scratched and rattled against the windows. Odd bumps and creaks rumbled and scraped across the roof. The power flickered twice, then cut out, leaving me in the dark until lightning strobed the room and flashed strange, long shadows on the wall.

  Though our Victorian wasn’t old, only built to look that way, it still felt haunted, filled with something . . . other. I felt my way across the room, stumbling and grazing the wall. The house should have been familiar, but the ominous darkness changed even my perception of my home. As I reached into the drawer for the flashlight, the kitchen storm door slammed on its hinges. Bang! Bang! Bang! I whimpered and then chastised my foolishness.

  I had two choices: secure the door or listen to it crash into the frame at random all night. I turned on the flashlight and slowly crept across my own kitchen like a burglar. My hand hesitated on the doorknob, and I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. It’s just a slamming door in the wind. But still, I said a little prayer, one from my childhood, the only one I could remember at the moment.

  I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

  I flung the door open and reached for the screen door handle. The wind moaned in agony, but I grasped the handle, heaved it closed, and turned the lock. Working quickly, I did the same with the kitchen door and then sobbed with relief when I had accomplished my goal.

  Bolstered by my victory, and the beam from the flashlight, I crossed the kitchen normally and my heart slowed to a standard rhythm. Until I got to the living room and the hair on my nape rose like it had been rubbed the wrong way.

  I froze, letting the rest of my senses figure out what was wrong. It’s all in your head, Thei. Sure it was. Like everything that had happened all week. I tightened my grip on the flashlight, knowing full well that it would be of little use as a weapon. I suspected that whatever I needed to battle wouldn’t respond to any kind of force I could provide.

  I swallowed the fear and resumed moving. I kept going, up the stairs and then, on a whim, past my room to the end of the hall and the staircase that led to the next floor. Varnie had said I would need a talisman. I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. I assumed it was some kind of amulet, something personal to me, and instinct lured me to the third floor.

  I eyed the staircase, pausing for a moment of trepidation before I climbed the short flight. The attic wasn’t scary like some. It wasn’t dark—well, except now, with no electricity. There were no cobwebs or strange windows. It was just an ordinary bonus room with the same carpeting as my own room. And yet it had always felt soulless and cold to me, perhaps because it was never used, never lived in. If houses had feelings, all of our neglect was stored in this room. The room that held my dead mother’s things.

  The howling wind seemed worse on the third floor. The storm, the dark, and my own fears combined like a haunted force field I was pushing myself to go through. Unfortunately, Varnie’s words of something attaching to me and wanting me very badly weren’t going to soothe me. The sensible thing would have been to curl up downstairs and try to sleep through the storm. My sensible gene was on a business trip, though, so instead I chose to brave the attic in the dark to find something I shouldn’t need.

  Shaking from too much adrenaline and not enough clothing, I hurried across the room without shining the light into the corners. If something was lurking there, I decided, I’d rather not know about it. I found the box I was after quickly—nobody ever moved anything in the attic—so I sat in front of it and loosened the lid.

  From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a shadow darting across the wall and my heart slammed against my rib cage. I sat very still, unmoving and reluctant to breathe. There—it happened again. Too fast to track, the shadow skittered blithely, though nothing in the room was moving and there was no light by which to create a shadow, much less see one.

  My blood chilled with dread, yet my shaky hands finished removing the box lid and I searched for the jewelry box, clutching it to my breast when I found it. I ran across the room to the door. I had to bite my lip not to squeal, because as I closed the door, fingers of cold tried to pull me back in.

  I flew down the stairs and into my room, taking great gulps of air. I dropped to the floor and dumped out the contents of the wooden box. I don’t know why I was in such a hurry and so careless with my mother’s jewelry; I just knew I needed to find the pendant I was looking for. It was a simple black stone set in silver on a chain. My fingers shook with the clasp, but I managed to get it closed around my neck finally.

  I wondered when she’d worn it last. I didn’t even know what kind of stone it was or if it meant anything special to her. Maybe it was just a cheap necklace she’d g
otten at a street fair. It hardly looked like anything my father would have purchased for her. I’d seen her wearing it in a few pictures, but it never appeared to be a favorite.

  The weight of the stone on my chest reassured me. For better or worse, I’d found my talisman.

  Surrounded by heat, I opened my eyes and was blinded by the bright, hot sun. I squinted and let my eyes adjust to the radiant light.

  Beneath my feet, hot sand burned my skin and it became apparent that I was alone in a vast, desolate desert. Not knowing what else to do, I sat.

  As the sun baked my body like a roast in an oven, I wondered where Haden was. There was nowhere for me to go—the flat sand stretched for miles on all sides. Nothing broke the view and no prints in the sand hinted at any other life nearby.

  Vacant, hot, barren. Damn it, Haden.

  He appeared as if he had always been there, charming in his coattails and top hat. As if we were to take tea in the oppressive heat. The flash of his white teeth, all the better to bite me with, unnerved me.

  Not content to let him hover over me while I remained on the ground again, I rolled my knees under me to stand.

  “You’re still dressed like a trollop,” he remarked. “And you’re pouting.”

  I was certainly not pouting. Why hadn’t I changed clothes? I guess I’d assumed I wouldn’t fall asleep. I remember sitting in the rocking chair in my bedroom to rest a minute before I got ready for bed. And then I woke up in the desert.

  I looked at Haden, remembering coolly how he’d left me in the storm after he’d worked me into a jealous fit. And now, to add insult, he called me a trollop. “How old are you, Haden?”