Keep Me Close

by Elizabeth Cole

  “I don’t know. Hours, probably. He does this when he’s on edge. He says he needs to relax.”

  Vinny squinted at Jonas. He didn’t look relaxed. He looked nearly braindead. Was the paranormal activity getting to him that badly? She tried to ask him, but he only blinked when she spoke. His hand waved languidly, the moment looking like it was happening underwater.

  Dom strode in, banking when he saw Jonas on the couch. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Nothing. He’s high.”

  “On what?” From Dom’s reaction, he wasn’t used to seeing people in Jonas’s state, a fact that comforted Vinny a tiny bit—for all of Dom’s strange experiences, he did not know everything.

  “Does it matter?” she asked. “He’s out. You could light a firecracker in his face and he’d barely blink.”

  “That’s…convenient,” said Dom, now frowning at Jonas.

  “Convenient for who?” Emma asked.

  “Um. Never mind.” Dom faced the two women. “I wanted to find you. You should leave,” Dom said. “We talked about it yesterday, but I mean it this time.”

  “Why?” Vinny asked.

  “This house is less safe than I thought. You and Emma should both leave for a while.”

  “Why not Jonas?”

  Dom’s gaze slid to the bombed-out Jonas for a moment, assessing the other man. Whatever Dom was thinking of, it made him huff out an annoyed breath. “He’s not the target.”

  “The target of what?”

  Dom shook his head. “Can we talk about it later? If you girls can just go—”

  “We’re girls now?” Vinny asked. “What, are we too weak to hear what you think is going on?”

  Emma pressed her hands to her temples, her eyes shut. “Oh, God.”

  Vinny turned to her. “What?”

  “Migraine coming on. Ugh, this one’s gonna be bad.” Emma opened her eyes to glare at Jonas. “Like I don’t have enough on my brain already, with his behavior, and now an actual headache.”

  “You should lie down,” Vinny said, concerned. Emma had struggled off and on with migraines her whole life, and Vinny knew how debilitating they could get. No wonder she was getting one now, considering the stress and bad feeling building up in the house.

  “No, you should both leave the house,” Dom said, more urgently.

  “If Emma gets in a car while she’s got a migraine, she’ll be ten times worse. Nothing can be so bad we need to leave before you tell us what’s wrong.”

  Dom grimaced. “I don’t want to get into it.”

  “Well, I do. You say what’s happened, or you shut up.” Vinny put an arm around Emma’s shoulders, intending to walk her to the bedroom.

  Emma didn’t budge. “No, I want to hear this. What did you find out?”

  Dom looked very uncomfortable. “The details can wait.”

  “Why?” Vinny noticed how he kept looking over to the barely-conscious Jonas. “Does it have to do with Jonas?”

  “Um. Sort of. Yes.”

  “So tell us,” Emma insisted.

  “I’d prefer to do that when he’s…”

  “Not high? Me too,” Emma snapped. “But guess what. He is, because he doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself!” She clutched at her head again, moaning. “Christ. Fuck this. I’m going to my room. Vin, please get an answer from this fucking con man.”

  “Count on it,” Vinny told her.

  Emma stumbled off through the far door. When she was gone, Vinny turned to face Dom, who seemed unmoved by the con man remark.

  “Well? What’s the big secret?” she asked, curious. “What’s so dangerous that we have to run away?”

  “I found some compelling evidence that there is something from the otherworlds in this house. Now, at this moment. Can’t you get Emma in a car and out of here?”

  Vinny shook her head. “No way. Not when she’s already suffering. And I don’t get it. Why is this dangerous for us, but not Jonas?”

  “That’s a different thing.”

  “How?” Vinny’s patience, which had been low ever since she got here, evaporated.

  Dom said. “Please. I need you to trust me.”

  “I want to trust you,” she said, “but you’ve got to do something besides say trust me. You have to show me something.”

  “I can’t. It’s not a visible thing.”

  “Then how do you know it is a thing?”

  He said, “It’s the absence of a thing—blips on the video footage.”

  “What video footage?”

  “Shit.” He looked away, and she knew he said something he hadn’t meant to. “There’s some footage from the security cameras.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “In a room. It’s not important.”

  “Sure it is.” The news that the security cameras actually had footage to be viewed could be helpful for Vinny’s personal quest to get dirt on Jonas. “Show me.”

  Clearly unhappy about it, Dom led her downstairs to a small room at the end of the hall. It was windowless and filled with electronics. Some were related to the recording studio, but some were obviously connected to running the house. And a utilitarian desktop monitor showed images that had to be from the security cameras.

  Vinny sat down in the chair before Dom could, and began to scan through the apps and files listed.

  It didn’t take long for her to see what she was never meant to see. She guessed something bad was here. She read it in Dom’s too-stiff posture, his repeated, restrained movements toward the computer. But he didn’t say anything, so it was still confusing to open a file and see a picture of herself.

  She blinked in noncomprehension at first. The grainy, green-tinged image didn’t help. But then she saw it. Saw her. Lying on the bed she slept in last night. Naked, except for the sheet. Because why would she cover herself when no one could see her?

  Except someone could see her. There had been a camera. In her room. Her room.

  She felt sick to her stomach. Vinny had never felt so betrayed since she was a child, and this time, it came with a rush of fury because the assault on her had a sexual edge. It didn’t matter that her body hadn’t been touched. The video proved that something had been taken from her, without her knowledge and definitely without her permission.

  “You weren’t going to tell me about this.” Her voice came out surprisingly calm. Vinny knew it wouldn’t stay that way.

  He didn’t look at her. “I thought it should wait.”

  “Wait for what? This is my life. It’s me in that clip. Pictures of my body. Is this some guy code thing? Not rat each other out when you catch each other being pervy?”

  “No.” Dom’s eyes flashed once, and she knew she’d made him angry. Too bad.

  “Then why didn’t you want to tell me?” she pressed.

  “I knew you’d get mad, like you are right now.”

  “Damn right I’m mad! Forget not telling me, why didn’t you delete it?”

  “If I deleted it, how could I prove it happened?”

  “You weren’t going to tell me it happened!” Her throat tightened up, and her eyes went hot, sure signs she was about to lose her temper. Why, why, why had she trusted Dom? She’d been so good for so long, keeping herself out of emotional bullshit. Then one guy came along and acted like slightly less of a dick than most guys, and she was willing to fold, just because he was hot. Stupid.

  Well, he’d win one thing. Vinny was leaving this house. Right now.

  “I’m out of here.” She turned on her heel and stalked out of the grey room, slamming the door shut with Dom still inside.

  As Vinny pounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time, she struggled not to cry. She swallowed compulsively, her throat dry from yelling.

  “Getting out,” she muttered. “Not staying here one more minute.”

  She reached the front door and stopped short. What was she doing? She couldn’t just run out. Her wallet and her backpack and her everything were all upstairs in her room. S
he had to get them.

  She moved to the staircase, going up at a slower pace than before. Was she nuts? Maybe. Then she remembered the grainy shot of her own body, lying there helpless on the bed. Nope. She couldn’t stay in a house where that happened.

  Entering her bedroom, Vinny instinctively sought out the place where the camera had to be. She saw a little gleam from the lens and smiled, flipping her middle finger to the camera. “Save the shot of this moment, asshat,” she said, though she knew there was no sound.

  She started to pull her things together, stuffing them into her ratty backpack. She took a break only to grab some water from the bathroom. Man, anger made her parched.

  Once all her clothes were packed, Vin took another drink of water. Why did her throat feel so tight and itchy all of a sudden? And it wasn’t just her throat, it was the skin of her neck too.

  She yanked at her necklaces. She’d worn them for years with no problem and yet now they were causing some reaction. That was just her luck. She pulled off a few of the longest ones, thinking that maybe the base metals in the chains finally triggered an allergy.

  It didn’t help. She pulled off a few more, and then a few more. She picked up her backpack, but doubled over, coughing. The discomfort only worsened, and she started to get scared.

  One by one, each necklace came off, until only the gold one was left. The irritation didn’t stop, though. She fumbled with the clasp of the gold necklace, but her fingers wouldn’t work. It felt like it was coated in oil, and she couldn’t get a grip on it. In a fit of anger, she curled her hand around the chain and yanked hard, determined to snap the thing off.

  Nothing.

  She yanked again, harder.

  The chain actually seemed to grow tighter. Vinny took a breath, but barely got any air. Was this what drowning felt like? The room started spinning.

  She blinked several times. Was she on the floor?

  “He—help,” she said. Or tried to say. Even she could barely hear the word.

  Dom. Pie. Emma. Anyone. Help.

  No help.

  “That’s what you get when you do it all yourself, morsel.”

  Did she just hear something hiss?

  Vinny opened her eyes wider, but couldn’t see anything else in the room, and certainly not something that would have spoken those words.

  She pulled at the chain again, wincing at the effort it took to do so. The idea of getting up from the floor seemed like so much work.

  She closed her eyes for a second, and when she opened them again, the light had changed. The clock on the bedside table indicated an hour went by. An hour. And she was still on the floor. Vinny tried to get up, and failed.

  She couldn’t move, but then something made a sound. A…skittering.

  Nothing good ever skittered.

  What’s wrong with me? she thought, on the edge of panic. She could barely breathe, and she felt too warm, even hot.

  She heard the skittering again, and no matter how much she blinked, everything went slowly black.

  Did I get in an accident? she wondered. Am I in a coma? She tried to speak, but heard nothing. The panic edged closer. What if she was paralyzed, she thought suddenly. Was that why she couldn’t move?

  Just then, she did hear something. A voice, familiar but not one she quite understood. She strained to hear what it said, but was distracted by a flicker. My sight’s coming back, she thought. Good.

  Or not so good. Vinny saw something moving toward her. A dark, low something, sprawling on the ground, its limbs long and twisted.

  Recognition nudged her. This was the same shadowy something she’d sensed when she’d accidentally walked into what Dom called the otherworlds. The thing that sent her running in a panic.

  It was back. Closer. The pungent smells of burning tar and smoke fumes surrounded her.

  Then it tipped a head up to her, and she saw its face for the first time.

  Huge teeth gleamed at her from a mouth too wide to be real. Like a lizard, but way too big. A nightmare.

  That’s it. I’m dreaming, she told herself frantically. This is a nightmare and I’ll wake up and it will all be over soon.

  “Hello, morsel,” the lizard mouth said. Huge, yellow-red bloodshot eyes filled her vision. “You’re not asleep.”

  Vinny tried to scream one last time, but not a sound came out.

  Chapter 21

  After Vinny stormed out, Dom just sat there for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. He messed up. Was there a right way to tell someone they were being stalked? Maybe not. But there was a wrong way, because that’s the way he just did it. Sure, he was just the messenger. But with a message like that, it didn’t really matter that he wasn’t actually responsible for the videos. Just letting Vinny know they existed was enough to spark her fury.

  Dom fiddled at the keyboard for a little bit, then abruptly leaned forward. He deleted all the files from the time Vinny arrived here. Jonas would have to get his kicks some other way. Maybe once he finished whatever trip he was on, Vinny could yell at him properly and Dom could stop feeling like an asshole for just knowing about the videos.

  He should look for more of the discrepancies in the live feed so he could track…whatever was in the house. But he was too disgusted with the whole surveillance system just then, so he turned the computer off and got the hell out of the grey room.

  Heading directly outside, Dom took several deep breaths as he looked at the perfectly still water of the pool. Lord, that house had some bad energy, and it had built up fast over the past day or so. Part of the problem was the sheer strength of personality among everyone inside. Jonas was a drug-addled, fame-addicted celebrity. Emma was boiling over with thwarted ambition, obviously unhappy with her life path but unsure how to change it without breaking everything she knew. And then there was Vinny, whose personality might as well have gravitational pull.

  He should go see how she was doing.

  Then he remembered her I’m out of here. Did she mean that literally? He’d told her to leave the house, but he didn’t want her to rush off while she was furious.

  Dom headed back inside. The house was eerily silent. No sound from the living room, where Jonas had been last. No hint of Emma. And nothing from upstairs. Maybe Vinny had just left the house without another word. She was definitely capable of a solid Irish goodbye.

  Wait. There was something. A scratching.

  He climbed the stairs and turned toward Vinny’s room.

  Pie was in front of it, stretched to her full length, clawing uselessly at the door.

  Open it! the cat demanded.

  “Vin? It’s Dom. Can I come in?” Dom tried the handle. It was locked. “Vin, I’m serious. We need to talk. Open up.”

  The sullen silence continued, though he heard something thump, like Vinny dropped—or threw—something. She was in there.

  Fed up, Dom threw his shoulder into the door. It wasn’t very tough, and he barreled inside, anticipating more resistance.

  “Vinny, we have to talk—”

  He stopped in shock. Vinny lay on the floor by the far wall. Her body was twisted as if she’d been writhing in pain.

  Silver threads lay all around her, and it took him a second to understand that they were all her many silver necklaces, the ones she wore like an elegant Mr. T. She’d ripped them off as if she were desperate to get rid of them. Only one necklace remained, a thin gold chain with a little gold pendant. Dom didn’t remember seeing it before.

  Kneeling beside Vinny, Dom tilted her face to his. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her breath was choked. Her throat worked as if she was trying to speak, but nothing came out. Vinny’s fingers twitched.

  “I’m here, Vin,” he said, trying to reassure her as he checked her over. The gold necklace was tight around her neck, rubbing the skin red, even cutting trails into her flesh. He could barely work a few fingers between the metal and her skin. He tried to snap the chain without hurting Vinny, but it held fast.

  He stared at the
pendant, an unfamiliar symbol of a circle overlaid by a triangle. Though he didn’t recognize it, he recognized the dread rolling over him. Nothing he tried could remove it. Even cutting at it with his silver knife—which normally sliced through bones like butter—did nothing to the seemingly delicate gold chain.

  This was bad magic. How had this happened without him knowing about it?

  “Vin, I’ll get this thing off you, but I need to be outside to do it. Can you walk?” He grabbed her hand, but she only gave a tiny shake of her head, that one movement costing her serious energy.

  She was in a state. Not paralyzed, not catatonic. But definitely cursed and unable to help herself at all.

  Piewicket was still in full-on attack mode. Take her and go. Find running water to work your spell. I will remain here and guard against whatever may come.

  “Okay, Vin. Good thing you’re skinny,” he said. He picked her up in a move that landed her body over his shoulder. The classic get your buddy out of the war zone carry, not the cradling the damsel in distress carry. He couldn’t care less if it was unromantic. Vinny would run out of breath soon.

  He got to the giant garage and started to head for his bike. Then he glanced at the red Porsche. The keys were handy, on a hook on the wall. He didn’t think twice. Putting Vinny on the passenger seat, he drove away from the mansion, the gates opening just in time for him to get through.

  Dom pushed the car as much as he dared. The twisting roads forced him to drive way slower than he wanted, not to mention he couldn’t risk getting pulled over. Piewicket had said to find running water. He had to find it within the next few minutes. Out of the way of people, and with enough natural energy to work a fast spell.

  The car zipped across the bridge they’d taken to get there. A river ran furiously in a gorge far below.

  “Running water,” Dom muttered. “Perfect.”

  He nearly missed the dirt turn off just past the bridge. The tires squealed as he turned onto it, and then went quiet when they left the pavement and hit the dirt. He followed the path, turning two hairpins to get to the bottom of the river gorge.

  He looked over. Vinny had stopped breathing.

  His own breath caught, and he almost swerved off the road. Instead, Dom hit the brakes and slammed the car into park.