by Jaci Burton
Dinner was a raucous event, filled with lively conversation, everyone talking over one another and lots of laughter. Isabelle settled in as an observer, happy to stay silent and watch the interplay between the families. The children were well behaved, but allowed to intermingle in the conversations. The parents weren’t overly indulgent, but not too strict, either. They all engaged Isabelle and Dalton in their conversations, but didn’t pry into anything too personal. The children seemed fascinated by Isabelle’s career as an archaeologist, and of course wanted to know if she’d ever dug up dinosaurs. When she said she had, the kids were excited and filled with questions, which she was delighted to answer.
When the meal was finished, everyone helped clean up, so the chore was done in a hurry. Anabelle and Laticia scooted off with the kids, and the guys headed out the back door, leaving Georgie alone with Isabelle and Dalton.
“Now,” Georgie said, wiping her hands with a towel before sitting down at the table. “You two getting settled over at the cabin?”
Dalton nodded. “We’re fine. Took a nice hike today to get Isabelle familiar with the area.”
“Good.” She looked over to Isabelle. “But that’s not why you’re here, is it?”
Isabelle’s glance shot over to Dalton.
“I’d like Georgie to weigh in on what’s been happening to you, see if she can offer some insight,” he said.
Great. Isabelle shifted uncomfortably. How many people needed to know who and what she was?
“She knows, Isabelle. Georgie is gifted with incredible insights as well as magic. And she knows about the Realm of Light and Sons of Darkness. There are no secrets here.”
Wow. That was a pretty big secret. “Okay,” she said.
“I’ll be happy to help in any way I can,” Georgie said.
“Isabelle’s having some problems.”
Georgie turned dark eyes to her. Isabelle resisted the urge to scoot away from the woman’s mesmerizing gaze.
“What kind of problems?”
Dalton slanted his gaze to her. “Go ahead, Isabelle.”
She supposed saying “I don’t wanna” would be a bit childish. She turned to Georgie. “I have these memory gaps. And during these gaps, I do things.”
Georgie’s expression didn’t change. She simply nodded and said, “Go on.”
“I have nightmares. Every time I sleep, demons come for me.”
“Is it like you’re awake? You can feel their presence, feel them touching you?”
Isabelle nodded. “Yes. It’s exactly like that. It’s almost like as soon as I fall asleep, they get some kind of signal to come for me.”
“Do they take you somewhere, or come to where you are?”
“I don’t remember. That’s the problem. As soon as I wake up, everything is foggy. I know the demons have been with me, because I sense them descending as soon as I fall asleep, but I can’t recall exactly how or where.”
“That’s all right,” Georgie said. “What else?”
Isabelle shifted her gaze to Dalton, who nodded. “It’s okay. You can tell her.”
This part was going to be tough. It was personal. Humiliating. Confusing. She looked at Georgie. “It’s about Dalton. There’s something about him that … draws me.”
Georgie looked at Dalton, then back at Isabelle, her lips lifting in a knowing smile. “Yes, I can see that it would. Is that a problem?”
“It’s a problem when I can’t remember what I’m doing.”
Georgie frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I was taking a bath. I remember glancing out the window and seeing Dalton. I was … uh … admiring him, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes. I understand,” Georgie said, smiling at her as if she knew exactly what Isabelle meant.
“Next thing I knew, I woke up and was in the backyard with him. Naked. Practically draped around him. I must have left the bath and walked right outside.”
“And you don’t remember how you got there?”
She shook her head. “And apparently I offered up some rather provocative invitations.”
Georgie didn’t even blink, just nodded. “Has it happened before that incident?”
“Sort of. Though not as flagrant.”
“And you can’t recall what happened during these periods?”
“No. Only that there seemed to be a period where I was almost asleep, or I suffered some kind of memory loss, because I don’t remember how I got from point A to point B.”
Georgie came over and sat on the bench next to Isabelle, smoothing her fingers over Isabelle’s hands. Georgie’s hands were warm. Isabelle’s felt like ice.
“You’re blocking them,” she finally said.
“Excuse me?”
“They’re trying to find you, and you’re fighting them. I feel them near you.”
“Them being the demons?” Dalton asked.
“Yes,” Georgie said without taking her eyes off Isabelle’s face. “This is hard for you. It’s causing you stress, pain, emotional upheaval. You’re very strong. So are they. This battle of wills is taking its toll on your psyche.”
Isabelle wasn’t even aware of a battle taking place. “I’m not doing anything. I’m just trying to exist.”
“Trust me. It’s happening. You’re fighting them, but that just makes them try harder to get to you.”
“Okay. I can accept that I don’t want them to take me again. It makes sense that I would subconsciously block them. But that doesn’t really explain my behavior,” Isabelle said. “With Dalton.”
“Actually it explains more than you think. Dalton is the reason you still live. He is-at least in your mind-your one and only ally against them. Also, you are drawn to him, and he to you. But you fight that attraction.” Georgie turned her gaze to Dalton. “So does he. It creates much conflict within you both.”
“Which means?” Isabelle hated to be dense, but she still didn’t understand.
“You’re at war within yourself, Isabelle. You’re fighting an internal battle with demons who want to know where you are. You seem to be trying to focus your attention there. Your full attention. At the same time, you’re also battling your attraction to Dalton. Part of you refuses to give in, very much wants to remain distant. The other part of you wants to join with him, needs to join with him in the most basic of ways.”
She exhaled. So much of what Georgie said made sense.
“Also, I’m not sure it’s the human part of you that seeks him.”
That was not good. Isabelle tensed again.
“Oh, great,” Dalton said. “So what you’re saying is the human side of Isabelle can resist me just fine. It’s the demon side of her that wants to jump my bones.”
Georgie smiled. “In a way, yes.”
“So when I went out in the yard-the part I couldn’t remember-that was the demon part of me …”
“Coming out to play” Georgie finished for her. “Yes, I believe so.”
Isabelle laid her head in her hands to combat the dizziness. “I don’t understand this. It’s all so confusing. You’re talking about parts of me that don’t seem real to me.” She lifted her head, looked at Dalton, then at Georgie. “I don’t feel like I’m battling anything. I feel human. All of me.”
“For now,” Georgie said. “Soon enough, that will change. The demon side of you will grow stronger, will fight for dominance.”
“How can I avoid that?”
Georgie laid her hand over Isabelle’s. “You can’t. You’re going to have to face it. It wants to take you over. They want that part of you to take over. If you want to win, you have to be ready to do battle.” Georgie’s face changed then, her expression fierce, like that of a warrior as she looked at both Dalton and Isabelle.
“You’re both going to have to fight.”
“Tell me what I have to do,” Isabelle said, determination filling her. “I don’t want them to take me again. I won’t let them take me again.” She looked to Dalton, communicating her desires wi
thout words. He would understand what she meant.
She’d rather die than let the Sons of Darkness have her.
“You have to break through these losses in time. Work with Dalton on your memories. Allow him to get closer. You’re going to need him in this battle.”
How much closer? If the demon part of her wanted Dalton, shouldn’t she keep him as far away as possible?
“I know the question you’re not asking,” Georgie said. She stood and moved toward the sink, put a few dishes away, then turned and crossed her arms, staring down at both of them. “The answer is no. Don’t keep Dalton away from you. Draw him near. He is all that is good within you. You are all that is good within him. But you have to sift through the darkness together to find the light within each other. Search, until you discover it.”
CHAPTER SIX
Isabelle was floating, sinking into a blissful, dark silence. She felt weightless, as if she were sailing on a cloud in the moonless sky, no destination in mind. Nothing in front of her, nothing behind her. She reached out, sensed only misty, cool air surrounding her. She’d never felt more at peace.
Until she landed with a hard thud, jerking her out of her sense of well-being. She moved, but was restricted by walls on each side of her. She tried to find her bearings, but it was so dark she couldn’t see. Where was she?
She couldn’t move. Not an inch on any side.
She was trapped. She raised her arms above her head, but felt nothing. No handhold. The coolness around her evaporated, her sense of air cut off. Something fell on top of her. She inhaled, breathing in dust, dirt as it rained on top of her in a fine, unending mist. It coated her skin, her lungs, as it continued to pour in on her. Despite covering her mouth and nose, she couldn’t hold it back as the downpour of dirt continued, filling up the tiny hole she was trapped in, burying her to her ankles, her knees, her hips, wedging her in this grave.
“Help me!”
No one answered.
“Dalton, help me!”
Dalton didn’t answer. He wasn’t there. She was alone. Panic hammered at her and she began to shake. She clawed at the sides of the hole. More dirt fell in, trapping her arms at her sides. Now she couldn’t cover her mouth and she breathed in dirt. It filled her nostrils, poured into her lungs, choking her. She couldn’t breathe.
Oh, help me. Someone, please.
She was dying, smothering, unable to suck in life-giving oxygen. They were burying her alive and no one would ever find her. She opened her mouth to scream, but the scream was empty, silent, filled with dirt. As consciousness faded, she heard their laughter, their voices. Dark, evil, twisted.
You’re ours, Isabelle. We control you. Your air, your breath. When you die, you will still be ours. You cannot run. You cannot hide. You cannot put us off forever. Your soul belongs to us.
Isabelle shot up in bed, her mouth open, nothing coming out but a panicked rush of air as she fought for breath, fought for the scream that wanted to erupt but couldn’t.
In the half darkness she saw a shape to the side of the bed. Panic rushed at her, her body filling with heat. She pushed away, ready to run.
“Isabelle.”
Dalton’s voice was low, soothing, as he reached for her hand. “Isabelle, it’s me. You’re here, in your bed. You’re all right.”
She couldn’t catch her breath. Sweat drenched her body, her clothes, the sheets around her. She couldn’t speak, fought to control the overwhelming nausea. Dizziness made the room tilt. The dream was still so real, she was caught between it and the darkened bedroom.
“Breathe, honey. Slow and easy. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
Dalton’s voice helped. She did as he instructed and the dizziness began to fade. But this time, she kept the dream in the forefront of her mind, refusing to let it disappear. She wanted to remember, even though the thought of it made her throat constrict.
She shivered. “I’m all wet,” she managed, her voice still hoarse. She could still taste dirt in her throat, shuddered at how real it all was.
He smoothed his hand over her hair. “You were sweating. I heard you moaning, came in to check on you. You were thrashing around on the bed. I debated whether to wake you …”
“I’m glad you did. I need to take a shower.” And brush her teeth. And gargle. She had to get the taste of dry earth out of her mouth.
“Do you want me to come in with you?”
Yes. No. She didn’t want to be alone, but knew she had to do this by herself. She refused to become dependent on Dalton. “I’ll be fine.”
He nodded. “I’ll wait right here for you.”
“I’ll only be a few minutes.” On shaky legs, she slid off the bed, grabbed some clothes and slipped into the bathroom. She turned on the water and while it warmed up, scoured her teeth and used mouth rinse. Feeling immensely better after that, she hurried through her shower, washing off the sweat coating her body. True to his word, Dalton was still in her room when she came out. In fact, he was making her bed.
“I changed the sheets. They were drenched.”
“Thank you. For that, and for hearing me, for waking me.” She turned her head as a low rumble sounded off in the distance, followed by a flash of lightning.
“Storm’s coming,” Dalton said in reply.
She nodded, shivering as goose bumps prickled her skin.
“Let’s go sit in the living room for a while.”
“What time is it?”
“About four A.M.”
She tossed her damp hair over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dalton. I don’t sleep much these days.”
“Don’t worry about it. Neither do I. Come on.”
He went into the living room and sat on the sofa. Isabelle hesitated. For some reason she needed the contact of Dalton’s body but felt uncertain asking for it.
Dalton patted the cushion beside him. “Sit with me.”
Relieved, Isabelle curled up next to him and pulled her legs behind her.
“Do you remember the dream?” he asked.
“Yes. This time I forced myself to stay in the here and now, to remember. At first I was floating, like on a cloud or in space. It was wonderful, very freeing. But then I fell, plummeted into a hole or a grave, and dirt came raining down on top of me. I couldn’t crawl out, and more dirt came in, choking me. I couldn’t breathe. I was being buried alive.”
Dalton put his arm around her and drew her closer to him. She didn’t mind that at all, still chilled despite the warmth in the room.
“When it felt like I was dying, I heard their voices.”
“Whose voices?”
“The Sons of Darkness. Tase, the one who was their leader.”
“What did he say?”
“Something about how I belonged to them, and they control everything about me. That even in death, I would be theirs, including my soul. And that’s when you woke me.”
Dalton arched a brow. “That’s pretty intense.”
“Yeah.”
“No wonder you were in bad shape.”
He smoothed his hand down her arm and back up, settling at her nape to massage the tension nestled there. She shivered, but this time it wasn’t from being chilled.
“It’s better now. Thank you for sitting with me.”
He looked down at her. “Are you ready to go back to sleep?”
“No. I’m pretty much done with sleeping for the night.” The thought of closing her eyes again brought about vivid images of being closed in, of dirt pouring on her, of being unable to breathe. She couldn’t sleep anymore. She might not be able to again for a long while. “You can go back to bed if you want to. I’ll be fine out here.”
“So will I.” He shifted so she could slide into the crook of his arm. She felt sheltered there, and he wrapped his arm more securely around her. She drew her knees up to her chest, settled, and finally relaxed. She could almost fall asleep this way, except Dalton kept moving his hand up and down her arm and shoulder, and slid his fingers into her
hair to massage her head. The sensations he evoked had her wide awake and wired, her emotions and physical reactions tuned into him completely.
“Are you deliberately trying to provoke a response from me?” she finally asked.
“Huh?” His voice sounded lazy and tired. He even yawned.
“Never mind.”
“What are you talking about?”
She sighed, staring at the darkness through the front window. Normally after a dream like the one she’d just had, the dark would scare her, but sitting in the pitch-black room with Dalton didn’t bother her at all for some reason.
“You’re touching me.”
He didn’t stop, his fingertips gliding over her arm. “Does it bother you?”
“Yes and no. I’m just trying to figure out your intent.”
“I’m relaxing you.”
“I’m fine.”
“True enough. You haven’t gone all demon on me.”
She snorted. “So do I get a cookie?”
“You’re a bit of a smart-ass, Isabelle.”
“So I’ve been told. And you didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?”
Men. Always talking in circles to avoid answering. “Are you trying to provoke the demon?”
“Maybe. The demon is part of who you are. You can’t avoid it forever.”
She shifted, facing him. She could see his face despite the darkened room. There was enough gray light sifting in from the moonlight that she could read his expression. But she couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or he was dead serious. “Won’t waking up the demon part of me alert the Sons of Darkness to our whereabouts?”
“I don’t think so. Because as Georgie said, there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to mix it up with the Sons of Darkness again. You’re doing a fine job of fighting their attempts to find you. I don’t think bringing out your demon side is going to alert them.”
Easy for him to say. He wasn’t having the kinds of nightmares she had, the feeling that the demons came for her every night, took her somewhere, had power over her. She started to pull away, not liking the direction this conversation-or his intent-was heading.
