True Connection (The Soul Mate Series)

by Walter, Rachel

  The coffee pot stops gurgling so I walk to the counter and reach for a cup.

  Barry sighs. “They’re still impor…”

  “Go to bed Barry. I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I cut him off and add cream to my coffee.

  Something outside thumps on the deck, right outside the sliding glass door. Faster than I thought possible, Barry’s hand clamps over my mouth before I can let out a scream.

  “It’s just my dad. You’re okay, I promise,” he whispers in my ear as the door slides open.

  A large man steps into my kitchen. He’s maybe an inch or two taller than Barry but he’s thicker and wider, that alone is intimidating. He really reminds me of one those humungous wrestlers you see on TV, you know, all hopped up on steroids.

  Something tells me this is far from steroids.

  Looking at the man’s features closer, he and Barry look so similar, it’s almost creepy. Barry’s hair is a bit longer, and his dad’s has a touch of gray to it, but otherwise the same. The biggest difference is the man’s eyes. He has kind eyes.

  “I’m Fane, Barry’s father,” he says, and motions for us to sit at the table.

  “It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I whisper and grab my coffee and head over to sit across from Fane.

  Fane’s chair protests. It wouldn’t surprise me if the thing collapses, but it doesn’t. Fane looks at Barry for a moment, then turns his gaze to me. He smiles gently and with his smile, I find myself relaxing for the first time in hours.

  “Did Barry tell you he called me?” Fane asks.

  I nod. “Yes. I still don’t see why,” I say and glare at Barry.

  “I was trying to tell you, if you’d just listen,” Barry grumbles.

  “I know this isn’t going to be easy, but I need you tell me a few things,” I look to Fane in confusion. “I need you to tell me every detail of these nightmares you’ve been having and when they started.”

  I sit up a little straighter and feel the tension move back into my muscles. I don’t want to. “What’s the point? They’re just dreams,” I whisper.

  “It will determine how to better protect you,” Fane says, without missing a beat.

  Confusion weighs over me in a heavy blanket. Judging by the look on Fane and Barry’s faces, I’m not going to get out of this.

  With a heavy sigh, I start at the beginning. “Well, the first one was two nights ago. And…” Fane interrupts me, his features scream surprise.

  “They only started the other night?” he repeats and looks from me to Barry, like Barry would freaking know. I just nod. “Go on,” he says, and I do. I tell him and Barry every single detail of the dreams.

  Fane stills in his seat and the look on his face turns to something resembling fury, when I describe the shadow and the suffocation inflicted.

  Barry winces when I describe the wolves in my dreams. They were huge, and frightening. The look of pride on Fane’s face, and the “I told you so,” look Barry gives me when he realizes, they were the only things saving me in each dream, was clear.

  They both go pale with my description on how Seth was killed in the dream. I have no clue how to connect their reactions to something tangible.

  Once everything is all on the table, so to speak, I’m in tears. Retelling those dreams was almost like reliving them. I felt like I was suffocating, the fear and relief the wolves provided, and saw Henry, Alex, Skeeter, Seth, Mom, and Leland, in the most recent dream, die all over again. Barry moves into the chair next to me and rubs circles on my back.

  Fane pulls out his phone and tells someone to come to my deck, before returning the phone to his pocket again. He then refreshes my coffee, and gets some for himself. By the time he comes back, there are thumps and footsteps on my deck. From where I’m sitting, I can see who’s arrived.

  As soon as he’s through the door, I jump up and launch myself into his open arms. I fling my arms and legs around him, and squeeze him, as I continue to feel the effects of his murder in that damn nightmare.

  He chuckles as he unwinds my legs from his waist and cradles me like you would a small child. He sits in the seat I vacated next to Barry, as Luke and Athan find seats as well.

  “It’s okay, I’m here with you now,” he says with a kiss to the top of my head.

  I listen to Seth’s breathing, while I work on calming my tears. Seth breathes in, I hiccup as tears stream down my face. Seth breathes out, and I try timing my breathing with his.

  I feel so stupid for crying over a few dreams. I chide myself for showing weakness to my own subconscious. Stupid dreams, stupid tears that show no sign of stopping, stupid nightmares for depriving me of sleep that I clearly need.

  Fane fills them in on every detail of my nightmares. He speaks without leaving anything out and with emotion seeping into his voice. It’s so strong that it causes me to shiver.

  It’s not like reliving them. It’s like watching them on a movie reel in a theater for all to see.

  ***

  Fane, Athan, Luke, and Barry dissect and digest as much information about my nightmares as they can, and what happened to my body during the nightmares was brought up by Barry.

  I ignored them and mentally went to a happy place. I picture myself at the beach, soaking up the rays, and I can practically smell the saltwater. With tingles surrounding my body, it’s easy to imagine Seth beside me in my happy place.

  Seth pats my arm, bringing me back to reality.

  “This demon is certainly determined, but now that we know what’s going on, we can stall or prevent certain things from happening.” Athan drums his fingers on the table for a short time. “The dreams you’re having, aren’t dreams. A devux is attacking you.” I gasp and sit straighter. “They’re like nightmares to an extent, but if he were to mark your skin, or break your bones during these attacks, you’d wake up with those injuries.” I squeeze Seth’s fingers. “If he were to succeed in killing you, you regrettably, would not awaken.”

  I stop breathing and war, internally, with the urge to hug Barry and thank him for waking me, and protecting me. I’d probably do that, and wake my brother, and uncle for the same thing, if I could move and breathe.

  “These are three very real attacks. There are a few ways to stop these attacks. One is to kill the attacker. You wouldn’t be able to do that in the nightmares, even if you knew who the attacker was. That’s how they are designed. But there are two options available to you that are the most convenient,” Athan says.

  That statement thaws me out. I’m so grateful for those words, I could kiss the man! “Anything! Tell me, please. I love sleep and I love coffee. I’m afraid if I give up on sleep and drink coffee all the time, I’ll end up hating it.” Under different circumstances, I’m sure the room would’ve been bursting with laughter from my desperate outburst.

  “You must sleep in the same bed with someone who has pure intentions. Someone who wants to protect you, keep you from harm. Anyone in this house would be a perfect candidate for that job,” he responds.

  Sleeping with me is a job, what a lovely way of putting it. “I can’t always sleep with Henry. He’d begin to ask questions. There is no way I’ll allow Barry in my bed,” I turn to him and mouth “no offense,” he shrugs. “And I’ll be grounded for life, if Seth is caught in my bed.”

  “There is another way for you to have a decent night’s sleep.” Athan shifts a little and looks me square in the eyes and says exactly what I don’t want to hear. “It involves a shifter while in their other form.”

  I’m still not ready to see that, not after those nightmares, er, attacks. After seeing that, I’d end up with nightmares just as bad as the attacks, with my imagination. Seth gently squeezes my hand and smiles at me, reassuringly.

  ***

  I close the door behind us and pause before turning around. I can’t believe Luke, Seth’s father, encouraged me to allow his son to sleep in my bed. I don’t see how any parent would willingly allow this behavior. My uncle will blow a gasket if he finds ou
t. I’m not even going to think about what Henry would say or do should he find out this bit of information.

  I’m not prepared for this. I can’t do this. I can’t share a bed with my boyfriend. That has bad news written all over it, like an invite to be the next teen mom.

  What am I talking about? We’re just sleeping. He wouldn’t take advantage of me.

  A tingling and warm caress in my mind tells me that Seth agrees, he wouldn’t take advantage of me, ever.

  I take a deep breath and turn around, only to see him sitting on my bed with his shoes kicked off.

  I gulp.

  “Come ‘ere.” He opens his arms. I go to him and sit on his lap. He gives me a few pecks and then pulls back. “Hey, we’re just taking a nap. Okay? Just some cuddling and some sleep.”

  I nod and breathe a sigh of relief.

  He lifts me like I weigh nothing and shifts on my bed, so his head is on my pillows and my head is on his chest, tucking me tightly in his arms.

  I feel like I’m in a bubble, a protective bubble to be exact, and it smells like heaven. He runs his fingers through my hair, and sleep finds me quickly.

  ***

  Seth wakes me up forty-five minutes before I usually get up. He captures my lips with his before I can even wipe away the sleep dust from my eyes.

  “Good morning,” he whispers.

  He looks so awake, so perfectly refreshed. I really hope he doesn’t wake up looking that perfect and rested, that doesn’t seem fair. I probably resemble a twisted blonde version of Cousin It crossed with The Mad Hatter.

  “Drink plenty of coffee so you don’t doze off before school. I’ll bring some Red Bull for you,” he promises.

  I smile. How he knows me so well, while not actually knowing me, is beyond me. I just nod at him.

  He gives me another kiss and then walks over to my window. He looks back, winks and holds his finger to his mouth, indicating I should be quiet, and leaps out my window. I gasp and race over to the window, and see him running through my yard.

  He’s insane!

  ***

  I’m starting on my fourth cup of coffee already, and I’m so ready for the day to actually begin, that I’m dancing around the kitchen like a fool with my ear buds blaring in my ears. I twirl around and shimmy to beat, and freeze, when I feel eyes on my back. Someone is watching me. I slowly turn to find Leland standing in the doorway with Alex on his hip.

  I smile. “Morning, guys!” I say and pull out one of my earbuds so I can hear.

  “How much coffee have you had?” he asks slowly, and it’s easy to hear just how tired he is.

  I messed up his sleep. No, those attacks messed up his sleep, but still, it’s my fault, indirectly. Guilt hits me like a ton of bricks. I push away my guilt for the time being, I can’t explain it to him anyway. “About half a pot last night. Er, earlier this morning. I had a two-hour nap, a blissful two hours of nightmare-free sleep! And right now, I’m working on cup number four,” I beam a large smile at him.

  I resume my goofy dancing and dance towards the pantry to get Cheerios for Alex.

  “You’ve either had coffee and plenty of it, or you scored concert tickets.” I hear Henry laugh from behind me.

  “Yes to the first and I wish to the second.”

  I dance around to the other side of the room to get a bowl and dance my way back over to Alex. I sing to Alex, and he giggles in between bites of his cereal.

  “Breakfast and a show? I think I’ll stay here permanently,” Barry says around a yawn.

  “You could really use some of the secret magic I discovered,” I grin.

  “Um, Pretty Boy isn’t my type,” he spits out.

  I ignore him and pull down a coffee cup from the cabinet, and proceed to pour him some coffee. “I made it extra strong this morning. Have some. You’ll be chipper in no time.” The next song interrupts my thoughts and I continue being a goofball, loving the giggles Alex sings out.

  “If this makes me do that, will one of you please hit me over the head with a frying pan?” Barry says to Leland and Henry.

  “I promise to take a video before anyone takes you out. Personally, I don’t think a frying pan’ll work. We’ll just pull out the couch and give you a shove,” I say, and laugh so hard I begin to snort. Henry and Leland join me with their laughter.

  “Did you show Leland the picture you took?” Henry asks me.

  Leland then proceeds to pull out his phone and show us all his background. Barry jumps up from his chair and charges towards me. I squeal but find myself cornered near the coffee pot.

  “Who else got that photo?!” he shouts.

  “Only Leland,” I giggle harder. “I swear!” Because I’m still laughing he doesn’t believe me. He crouches and begins to stalk me, like a panther that just found his next meal.

  Crap, my only options are attempting to hop the bar or run straight into his arms.

  “Where ya gonna go, Princess?” he taunts.

  I stop laughing and turn away from him. I take a sip of my coffee and put my iPod on the counter, pretending I’m not playing anymore. It works out in my advantage. He straightens and crosses his arms over his chest, leaving his feet about shoulder width apart.

  If I time it just right, I can slip right under him. I set my cup down, lean my hip on the counter and mimic his expression while waiting for the right moment to make my move.

  He opens his mouth, probably to say something stupid, and I dart right for him. His eyes widen in surprise. He readies himself, waiting for me to go left or right. Just outside of the reach of his arms, I drop into a baseball slide and slide right between his legs. Then hop up into a run and dart into the bathroom.

  “We’ll finish this after school, Princess…” Barry yells through the door.

  Since he lives here now, I don’t get a break from him at all. Protector or not, Barry is still Barry, and I don’t see him letting this go.

  Chapter 11

  The Demon Is Outted

  In art, Skeeter and I giggle about Barry and the couch while we work on our paintings. She gave me a list of options to get Seth back for him making me choke on my chicken. The list consists of four options to exact my revenge. One will not be used, ever, one involves a bathing suit, one involves a dirty diaper, and one involves a glass of water.

  Derik slides his chair over when Skeeter goes to the back for different paints. “You seem better today, but you still look like shit,” he laughs. “How ya sleepin’ these days?”

  “Thanks for the compliment, you’re so incredibly sweet. Maybe I will sit with you at lunch after all,” I say, dripping with sarcasm. I give him a fake, sickly sweet smile and bat my eyelashes. I really wish he would just ignore me. My days go fabulously when he does.

  “Sure you will,” he snorts. “Sweet dreams tonight,” he sneers as he shoves the chair back.

  I look at him, really look at him. He looks exhausted, like he hasn’t slept in weeks. He’s got deep purple bags under his eyes, his skin is almost an ashy gray color, and his hair looks oily and flat. He looks like he’s lost some weight in some places, and gained it in others.

  And he thinks I look like crap?

  I wonder if he’s okay, health-wise. He’s never been my favorite person, but I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

  On a whim, I quickly ask him about it. “Derik, are you okay? Is something wrong?”

  He half smiles and I can see a hint of surprise in his eyes. It’s gone as quickly as it came. He has now reverted back to jerk face.

  “I’m fine,” he says with a sneer. He walks away mumbling and goes over to some guys in the corner.

  Luckily, he takes an empty seat with his friends and starts working on the assignment Mr. Becker has given us.

  “Alrighty then, sorry I asked,” I mumble to myself.

  “Don’t worry about him. He’s been snippy with everyone for a few days now,” Skeeter says, sitting in her seat again.

  Well, whatever’s bothering him, I hope
he figures it out soon. I won’t let Derik ruin my day. I swallow my odd worry for him and look to Skeeter and smile.

  “Revenge Option Three,” I say, and she starts laughing.

  “Yes!” She gives me a fist bump. “I so cannot wait for lunch now!”

  As we work on our paintings, I hear some snickering from behind us. I glance over my shoulder, and see that Derik has fallen asleep, face down on his canvas and one of his friends is painting something on his face. I shake my head.

  When the bell rings, I find Barry just outside the door, like usual. Maybe he knows what’s going on with Derik. There has to be a reason. Maybe he has a terrible home life.

  I yank on Barry’s shirtsleeve to get him to lean down to me.

  “Look at Derik. Is he having problems at home or something? Do you think he’s sick?” I ask him.

  He twists his head around to find Derik, and does a double take. His biceps flex and the veins on the side of his neck bulge. He grabs my arm and yanks me through the halls, until we arrive at the locker room.

  I assumed he would let go and tell me what’s gotten into him.

  Leland always says never to assume anything. You tend to make an ass out of yourself.

  In this case? I think the ass is Barry.

  He throws open the door to the locker room and drags me in with him.

  Here we stand, in the girl’s locker room, with him gripping my arm like I’m an escaped convict.

  I glance around, and see a few girls stare at Barry and me, with surprise written all over their faces.

  I huff. “Barry! Get…”

  “You will wait here for Flynn,” he cuts me off. “You will not leave alone, and whatever you do, don’t be alone at all, period.”

  I’m confused. I only asked him what was wrong with Derik. What, is he contagious?

  I open my mouth and he glares at me. So I swallow my questions and just nod. He turns for the door and gives me one last look before leaving.