by Gwen Hayes
Praise for
Falling Under
“Falling Under is a lush, romantic, and captivating novel. It took my breath away.” —Sarah Beth Durst, author of Ice
“Falling Under is absolutely irresistible. A lush, dark fairy tale full of magic, intrigue, and love. Genuinely scary and swooningly romantic in all the best ways, once I fell into this book, I couldn’t stop reading. Theia and Haden’s story utterly enthralled me, and I can’t wait to read more about Serendipity Falls.” —Rosemary Clement-Moore, author of The Splendor Falls
“Hayes’s first YA novel seasons its Romeo and Juliet theme of separated lovers with horror and languid eroticism . . . a satisfying story that hints at more promising dreams to come.” —Publishers Weekly
“In an eerie, intriguing YA debut that is sure to have some crossover appeal for Twilight fans of all ages, Hayes has spun a magical, sometimes terrifying tale of teens caught at the intersection of the human and demon worlds and their struggle to save their souls and escape the evil threat that could destroy them both.” —Library Journal
“Twilight fans will be tripping over themselves to read Hayes’s new series. This powerful love story will take your breath away as you are transported to the world of Serendipity Falls.” —RT Book Reviews
“A plot that leaves you guessing until the final page, a mysterious boy who could give Edward Cullen a run for his money, and writing that brings the characters to life in front of you as you read.” —Chapter Chicks
“Loved it . . . I totally got wrapped up in this one.” —Forever Young (Adult)
“A new, sexy take on demons and the battling of lust versus love.” —Scarrlet Reader
“Fascinating.” —Genre Go Round Reviews
“Beautiful, lyrical writing.” —Fiction State of Mind
“Falling Under has some similarities to books like Twilight, but it whomps all over them . . . lush, evocative, and incredibly creative.” —Errant Dreams Reviews
“A gripping tale of demons and the Underworld . . . Falling Under just about ticked all the right boxes.” —Nice Girls Read Books
BOOKS BY GWEN HAYES
Falling Under
Dreaming Awake
DREAMING AWAKE
GWEN HAYES
NEW AMERICAN LIBRARY
NEW AMERICAN LIBRARY
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi - 110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, January 2012
Copyright © Gwen Hayes, 2012
All rights reserved
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:
Hayes, Gwen.
Dreaming awake/Gwen Hayes.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-1-101-55942-0
[1. Demonology—Fiction. 2. Supernatural—Fiction. 3. Love—Fiction. 4. High schools—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.H31458Dr 2012
[Fic]—dc23 2011032112
Designed by Alissa Amell
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
For Harrison John—already a hero in so many ways
Contents
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
HOMECOMING
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Up Is Still Down
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Down Is Up Again
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The care and feeding of a writer is a complex endeavor that necessitates a special kind of patience and, most important, a good sense of humor. Without the support of my friends, family, and colleagues, there would be no book—just a strange woman in the corner talking to the voices in her head.
I’d like to thank my editor, Anne Sowards, for never letting me settle until I’ve written my best, even when I whine and complain about how hard it is. Also for letting me borrow Kat Sherbo from time to time because she is super smart. I’d also like to thank Jan McInroy for wrangling all the commas, and Erin Galloway and Kayleigh Clark for keeping publicity fun. There are a lot of other people at NAL/Penguin who work behind the scenes on my book that I’d like to thank also. I really appreciate all they do even though I don’t get to work with them directly.
Thank you, Jessica Sinsheimer, who is the most professional, savvy, witty, classy, and fiercely fun woman I know. She’s also my agent and represents everything I love about publishing and being female. She is a positive force in not just my career, but my life.
This book would not be if it weren’t for: my readers, my Twitter friends, the YA book bloggers who keep me excited about not just my book but all the books, Michael Graham for letting me borrow his duck, Bob and Janet Hayes for my name, and the Zone 91.3 (special shout-out to Jeremy, Pol, and Jon because I told you I would). Thanks to my inner circle of writer friends who send me encouragement, critiques, advice, and sometimes NSFW pictures.
And, as always, my deepest gratitude to my family for always believing in me. And for being understanding when I spend too much time on the computer.
And to
my husband, Travis, thank you times one million still doesn’t cover it. You are my world.
HOMECOMING
Danger doesn’t always greet with bared fangs. Sometimes it seduces with a willowy caress, a sigh of pleasure, and then turns carnivorous with whipcrack intensity.
Falling in love is the same.
Love had seduced my heart and soul, changed me forever, and then, in one promise made under duress, jeopardized my very humanity. And yet I couldn’t regret it.
These were my thoughts as I cartwheeled back through the supernatural veil that separated two worlds—the one I was supposed to live in and the one from which I was escaping. The place called Under.
Existing on the other side of dreams, Under wasn’t a place a person could journey to and from freely. On this night, my course had been set by a demon-summoning spell.
And it summoned me. Because now I had the blood of a demon running in my veins.
Brilliant streaks of light flashed around me. I was neither here nor there. I was everything and nothing at the same time. Like a comet, I brushed past the whole world, painting it with light.
The crash of my body onto a hard wooden floor jolted the part of me that still swam in the alterverse. Then came a sharp tug on the metaphysical line that tethered my spirit to my flesh and bones. I slammed into myself and drew in a harsh breath of oxygen.
And just like that I was home.
CHAPTER ONE
One week later
Sometimes it seemed that nothing had changed since the night I saw the burning man fall from the sky.
I stared out of my window into the cold, dark night. Behind me, my pink and ivory bedroom was reflected in the glass. A picture of a world that felt like a cage and a haven all at once. I tried to remember that everything was different now, that I was different now, but it felt like I’d stepped into a time warp. One that brought me once again to peer into the night and long for some unnamed freedom from being Theia Alderson—the perfect daughter, the perfect teen girl, the perfect ingénue from every gothic romance ever written. A doll in a box.
But I wasn’t that girl anymore. Even if I was the only one who recognized it.
I didn’t dare dwell on those thoughts for too long. There were shadows in my own heart and soul that I didn’t want to get to look at too closely. Best to keep them at bay since a small part of me was curious about the new darkness inside me. Too curious.
I pushed away from the window and roamed my bedroom, brushing my fingers against the furnishings of my old life as if they were touchstones for keeping me earthbound. Tomorrow would be my first day back at school since my “return.” All of Serendipity Falls thought I had run away, including my father. I could hardly have told him I’d been held prisoner in Under, the realm where nightmares were born. He’d have had me sedated and carted off to the nearest mental ward if I’d explained that demons exist and that not only was I dating one, but his mother had turned me into some kind of a monster as well.
So my father didn’t look deeper and accepted the fact that I had run away because of his overbearing rules and because I couldn’t handle learning the truth about my mother.
He never recovered from losing her; neither of us had, really.
My father was wrong about my running away, of course. When he was finally truthful with me about the circumstances of my mother’s death, a little of the ice around his heart began to thaw and I felt hope that we might be able to build a better relationship. He’d seemed to be realizing that he had tried so hard to keep me safe that the life of structure he had built around me often made me feel like a princess trapped in her castle turret.
But then I was taken to Under, and now our relationship was strained in a completely different way.
I closed my eyes and replayed the memory of returning home a few days ago. I hadn’t known what to expect. The counterfeit cheerfulness of the hulking Victorian house where I lived had never seemed so false as when I stood on the street in front of it working up the courage to go inside. It had never been a home to me, not the kind you remember with sentimentality. The way it rose too proudly from the well-manicured lawn and loomed over everything it saw reminded me too much of the way I’d felt about my father most of my life.
I’d knocked cautiously on my own front door. My breath had come in shallow puffs meant to imitate breathing but falling short. The door opened in slow motion, as if it was cracking an entryway into my fears.
“Oh, thank Jesus!” Muriel, our housekeeper, had cried as she pulled me into the house and into her arms. She’d been baking and smelled like apples and brown sugar. “Mr. Alderson, she’s home! Theia is home!”
Muriel patted me here and there, inspecting me for damage. She’d kept her red hair short and still wore appalling mom jeans and an embroidered sweatshirt. I loved every unfashionable stitch.
She’d cooed and murmured comments about my being too skinny and too pale, but her eyes were filled with happy tears. I was glad she answered the door first, and not my father. She was a respite for me. She always had been.
I’d felt it in my bones when my father saw me. The chill in the room became arctic.
He’d aged ten years in the time I’d been gone. Deep lines framed his eyes and mouth and his hair seemed thinner and lighter. If I’d lost weight in Under, he’d lost more here. His normally impeccable clothes hung loosely on his frame, the fabric gathered in pleats where it should have been flat.
His stern face was all the more frightening paired with his sunken eyes.
I took a step towards him but stopped when he flinched.
My lower lip trembled and tears formed and stung, but didn’t fall. “Daddy?” I’d whispered. I’d rarely called him that, even as a young girl. “Daddy, I’m sorry,” I cried. “I’m so, so sorry.”
He didn’t hug me that day or since. In fact, we’d barely spoken. He didn’t ask where I’d been, if I was all right. He didn’t welcome me with open arms. “We’ll talk tomorrow” was all he said.
Only tomorrow hadn’t come yet, despite the passing of many days. The nonreaction cut deeper into my heart than harsh words would have. His coldness covered my heart like freezer burn. I would have preferred a stern lecture or an angry tirade; instead, he’d sealed himself off from me once again.
He hadn’t even talked to me himself about going back to school. His assistant called me after she made the necessary arrangements to reenroll me in my classes.
School. I shook my head in disgust. My friends had convinced me that trying to get back into the routine of normal life was the best thing I could do, but I was not looking forward to returning to high school.
Serendipity Falls is a small California town very different from my childhood home in England. Fitting in had been a problem even before I’d been cursed with demon blood. My British accent, overly strict father, and extreme introverted tendencies put a bull’s-eye on my back when Father moved us stateside and I enrolled at the small, cliquish school. Luckily, I made two friends that year who cared very little about fitting in and still cared very much about me. Donny and Amelia were my family. And now I had Haden too.
I smiled to myself even as the fire-hot blush stroked my cheeks as it always did when I thought of Haden. He wasn’t the sort of boy a girl could easily bring home to meet the parents—even if she had normal parents and not an imposing, authoritarian father like mine. Haden, despite being half-human, had been raised in Under. He was unpredictable and wickedly handsome. He had the manners of a hero from a Jane Austen novel, but was equally at home in the high school cafeteria.
As if he knew I was thinking of him, my phone buzzed and lit up with his name on the caller ID.
“What are you wearing?” he asked as soon as I answered.
I smiled into the phone and looked down at my nightgown. “A clown suit with big red shoes.”
Haden chuckled low, his voice tickling something deep inside me. “Liar. You hate clowns. Are you ready for your first day of school?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I slid into my sheets and turned off the light, my restlessness abated by the sound of Haden’s voice.
“I just called to tell you good night. Get some sleep, Theia. Tomorrow is a big day.”
“I would sleep much better if you were here.” As soon as the words spilled out of my mouth, I wanted to die of embarrassment. Haden and I were close, but we hadn’t gotten that close yet. “I mean . . . it’s just that when you’re near I’m not as agitated. Not that I want to sleep with you.” I needed to stop talking—I was making it worse.
“You don’t?” He was teasing now. “Now you’ve hurt my male pride.”
“You know what I mean. Stop trying to fluster me.” We weren’t really ready for that yet—but I did think about what it would be like. I just didn’t want him to know I thought about it.
“My greatest joy comes from flustering you. Your cheeks pinken so sweetly. I bet they’re warm right this very minute.”
I brought my fingertips to my face. Scorching. “Not at all.”
“Good night, Theia. Sweet dreams.”
“Good night, Haden.”
I never thought I’d fall asleep. As I approached the edge of it, despite knowing better, I let it welcome me back.
* * *
It had been a long time since I’d awoken while dreaming.
One moment, I’d been lying in bed drifting into slumber; the next, I was standing outside. Stars danced across the navy blue sky and the moon provided an ambient light. A blanket of red and black rose petals carpeted the ground beneath my bare feet, soft and delicate. Not far from where I stood, a small gazebo glowing with white lights that twinkled like stars on a string drew my gaze. It was breathtaking. In the center a small table was set for two.
I looked down at my white cotton nightgown, chagrined to once again find myself in Under barely dressed. I should have been used to it. I also should have been afraid, but I wasn’t.
