Falling Darkness: The second book in the Falling Awake Series
Page 8
“Why won’t you ever let me do what I want?” I hissed. “You do what you want.”
“There’s a big difference between me and you.”
“This is my dream and you’re controlling even in that.”
The cocky grin that spread over his lips sent anger shooting down into the pit of my stomach. And something else. Something a lot like desire. “What can I say? It’s in my nature.”
“You’re an asshole-”
My insult was muffled as Caleb pushed his lips onto mine, crushing them. He prized my mouth open with his tongue and being the weak fool that I am, I let him. His mouth was warm and hungry on mine and I had missed it. I had missed the feel of him. I missed every part of his body, every inch of skin, every muscle. I tried to wriggle my wrists free to touch him but he held them in an iron grip. When he finally broke away, I was breathless. I lay there panting as he stared down at me with a smile creeping out from behind his eyes. He released the hold on me and slid his hand up under my top, over the bare skin of my back and pulled me up as he pushed himself back onto his knees. He kept his arm around me as I sat up in front of him. “What do you want?” I asked him.
“You.”
“Yep, I’m definitely dreaming.”
“You don’t think I want you?”
“Not in real life.”
“It’s too hard in real life.”
“You don’t think I’m worth it?”
“I never said that.”
My attention shifted over to what was behind Caleb’s shoulder. A thick grey mist was rolling in from the ocean, blotting out the clear blue sky on its way.
“What is it?” he asked.
“The darkness. It’s coming.”
“It’s already found you,” Caleb said. He looked over his shoulder briefly and then stood up, his grip loosening around my waist. I put my hand to the ground and pushed myself up.
“What’s happening, Caleb?” I was afraid. The cloud of mist was getting closer, creeping up on us like a slithering snake in the thick grass. The exact same misty shadow I had seen at the dance and at the cemetery. It was following me. The temperature in the air dropped as the darkness got nearer and a chill rolled through my body. I held my blowing hair away from my face. The moisture from the change in the atmosphere left a damp dewy texture on my cold skin.
“Push it away,” Caleb said.
“How?”
“Just do it,” he demanded. “Right now.”
The mist got thicker and faster and just as it was about to descend over us, I pushed out my arm with all of my energy behind it and turned my face away, pushing against the mist as if it was a living creature. I shifted my head slightly as the foggy blanket hissed and recoiled in on itself, before slithering back into the distance.
“Is this really just a dream, Caleb?” I asked. I was freaked out. “That was too real.”
“It’s just a dream,” he said. He grabbed my hand and walked over with me to edge of the rock face. “And I’m sorry, but it’s time to wake up.” My eyes widened in horror and disbelief as he shoved me in the chest and I fell backwards, tumbling over the edge, seconds from hitting the rocky water below.
Where there’s answers…
The next morning, I couldn’t get my dream out of my head. I showered and got dressed into my ripped, skinny jeans and a short sleeved black tank. Ressler sat on my bed watching me while I tipped my head upside down and blasted my hair with the hairdryer. It was Sunday and Drake and Mellissa had left early that morning. I flipped my head upright and fluffed my hair with my fingers.
My eyes landed on Ressler who was just sitting there on my bed, watching me. “What are you looking at?”
He shook his head absently. “Nothing. Just wondering how you manage to look so good with such little effort. I haven’t really seen that before.”
“Shut up,” I said. He was making me feel uncomfortable. But I smiled, regardless.
Downstairs, I heated up the skillet and set about making us pancakes. I mixed up a batter and ladled a heap full into the hot pan. Three scoops later, I put two golden pancakes onto each of our plates and put down the bottle of syrup between us at the kitchen island. I Pulled out a high backed stool and stuck my fork into the fluffy pancake. “Do you even need to eat?” I asked Ressler through a mouthful of deliciousness.
“Nope,” he said through a huge mouthful of his own. “But food tastes good, so I do. It won’t hurt me. Won’t benefit me either.”
“Can you do anything? I Mean, I know you’re strong and everything and you can’t die, but is that it?” I had already went over this with Caleb but there was always a chance that he had missed out any major traits of a fallen angel.
Ressler shrugged and chewed through his pancakes that were now drenched in syrup. He took a last bite and threw his fork down. “They were good.”
“Thanks.” I looked up at him, waiting for him to answer my question.
“You’re not impressed with the strength and immortality?”
“Your strength and immortality is very impressive,” I joked. “I was just wondering if there was anything else…” I chewed my pancakes slowly, never taking my eyes off him. Surely there was more to once being an angel.
“I could invade your dreams if I wanted to. If you’re willing, that is. I couldn’t just force my way in there.”
I didn’t feel my hand opening but the fork I was holding with the next bite of pancake on it, fell from my hand, hitting the counter and then clattering noisily onto the floor. I practically swallowed the piece of food in my mouth whole.
The cough that forced its way from my throat from the blockage of pancake was so painful, my eyes started to water. “What?” The sound came out Gravelly and strained.
“We can get into people’s head’s when they’re asleep. As long as they want us there.” Lines appeared between Ressler’s eyebrows. “Don’t worry, I’ve never done it to you if that’s why you’ve gone so white and all of a sudden, and can’t chew your food properly.”
I filled a glass with water from the Fawcett and gulped it down, until the chunk of pancake was swishing around in my stomach. “I don’t understand,” I said sitting back down in my seat.
“What’s not to understand? You sleep, maybe think about me and I slip in and take over. You pick the place, I just appear.”
Oh my god. I couldn’t believe my ears.
“Is that so?” I said. I wasn’t one hundred percent certain but I had a pretty good idea that Caleb had made a trip into my mind the last few nights. There was no other way to explain how the dreams felt so life like. As real as me sitting here with Ressler right now. I thought about my dream last night. Caleb had turned up, yes. But I had picked the place, according to Ressler. Why would I want to go to Cape Flattery? I never wanted to step foot in those waters or that area again. The dream with Caleb in my room, I could understand. As much as I hated admitting it to myself, it was what I wanted more than anything in the world.
“What are you thinking?” Ressler’s voice cut through my thoughts.
“Sshh,” I said, holding up my hand.
What was left at Cape Flattery? And then there was the mist. It knew I was there. I wasn’t even sure what that was yet, but it scared me. From past dreams, I knew better than to let this slide as a coincidence. There was only really one person who might know why I would need to go back there and I held no hope what so ever that I would even get any answers from that person, but I had to try. There was no way in hell I couldn’t see where this might lead.
“We’re going to Caleb’s. I’m driving,” I said to Ressler.
“We are?” He stood up, right behind me as I left the house. It was cold but I wasn’t bothering with a jacket. I was heated with pure adrenaline.
I got behind the wheel of my fiat and put on my seatbelt. There was hardly no traffic and I got to Sully’s in record time. Ressler hadn’t said anything to me the whole ride here, but I could see him from the corner of my eye every time h
e threw me an unsure glance. The bar was as good as empty and Sully was nowhere in sight. I lifted the end of the bar and went into the back room and down the cold stairway to the supply closet.
I pushed open Caleb’ door with only one place in mind. I pounded through the living room and passed the kitchen area. Leah was standing in the kitchen, smoking. I only knew that because I could smell it.
“Excuse me…” she began, but I walked straight past her and into the room my dad was being kept in. There was a lock on the door and I turned it behind me, making sure no one would intrude. I had no idea if this would actually work but I had no other options. I needed to know if the reasons I was being drawn back to Cape Flattery were what I thought they were.
I sat on the edge of my dad’s bed and brushed my fingers over his face. I didn’t know how much of his memory had returned, but I hoped he could tell me what I needed to know. I just needed one small memory.
I wasn’t exactly sure of the things I was capable of, but the urge was so strong in me now that I would be genuinely surprised if this didn’t work.
I lay the palms of my hands flat on either side of my dad’s head and closed my eyes. I needed to see what he knew. I kept my eyes closed but as the minutes passed by, nothing happened. I saw nothing.
“Come on dad,” I whispered. I concentrated hard on what I wanted to see and slowly but surely, blurry images scurried through my mind. I snatched my hands away and broke the connection and I rubbed my fingers to my temples, wincing in pain. That hurt. Badly. I didn’t think I was strong enough to see this through. I sat for a few more minutes with my eyes closed until the pain near enough subsided and when I dared go at it again, I lifted my hands back up to my dad’s head.
I braced myself for the impact of pure, pulsing strain to ripple through me, and when the blur of color filtered into my mind, I was ready for the stabbing sensation that came with it. I gritted my teeth and with heavy pressure, I pressed my palms harder into my dad’s skin. I didn’t mean to, but if I didn’t keep them held there, tightly- I would let go. I tried to decipher one image from the next but it was draining me.
“Please dad,” I bit out through clenched teeth. I squeezed my eyes tighter together, trying to pull something, anything, from the mass of mixed projection. I sharpened my concentration and the images did nothing more than come together as a smeared oil painting. All the different colors blending into one big mess. This wasn’t working like I had hoped it would. I pulled my hands away and sat by my dad’s side until the throbbing in my head eased a little, before I pulled myself up and unlocked the door, stepping out and walking straight into Caleb.
“What just happened in there?” he asked me. I could smell him, he was so close. He smelled good. Like mint and soap. He looked good, too.
“You don’t want anything to do with it, remember?”
“This is my house.”
“And that’s my dad.”
He laughed but there was no humor in it. “Oh, it’s your dad now?”
“Oh shut up.” I barged past him and went through into the living room. “I got what I came for. I’m going now. Come on Ressler.”
“He’s not your puppy,” Caleb said, leaning against the brick archway, leading into the hallway. He looked at Ressler, daring him to do as I asked. I could see it in his eyes. There was a silent warning in there somewhere.
“No he’s not,” I shot back. “He’s my friend. He’s been there when you weren’t, so you don’t get any say on our relationship. Just get back to your little girlfriend.”
Caleb snorted and shook his head. “Whatever,” he said with a smirk, and turned around, disappearing into one of the rooms.
“I hate him sometimes.” I Turned to Ressler, who was perched against the pinball machine with his arms crossed over his chest, looking entirely unconvinced. “Sure you do.”
“I’ll hate you too if you don’t stop looking at me like that,” I threatened.
“Are we done here then?”
“Yeah. I don’t want to hang around any longer than necessary.”
Ressler pushed himself off the pinball machine. “He won’t bring her around here you know. If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Who won’t bring who around?” I asked. I had no clue what Ressler was talking about.
“Caleb. He would never bring Tamara here.”
I shrugged and put on my most convincing, ‘I couldn’t care less’ face. It obviously wasn’t very convincing because when Ressler grunted with laughter it was met with the amused high pitch of Leah’s laughter. So no one believed me.
“Okay. I’m just letting you know that you don’t have to get yourself in a panic every time you step foot in here.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I smoothed my hands down over my arms. I was feeling fidgety. This topic of conversation was hot ground for me. I needed to avoid it.
Ressler was right. Every time I came here, my heart rate excelled, my palms became sweaty, and I fretted. That was the only word for it. I had no idea though, that all of that was visible on the outside. I thought that was a secret I shared with only myself. I needed to work on being less obvious.
Ressler had once described me as being an open book, and I was beginning to see now, that he was right. My emotions were out there for everyone to see and I hated the knowledge.
I pushed the whole thought to the back of my mind and stuck a lid on it. There were worse things to be dealt with here. “I need to go home. I think what I need to know is there.” I made for the door to leave, knowing that Ressler would follow me.
“And are you ever going to tell me what that is?”
I unlocked my car and got in. “I think that my dreams are trying to tell me something.” I started the engine and drove out of the parking lot. “No, I know they’re trying to tell me something.” I turned sideways expecting to see some form of a peculiar look on Ressler’s face but his expression was impassive.
“Aren’t you going to say that’s ridiculous?”
“No.”
When I parked the car and Ressler and I were back in the house, I hoisted myself up onto the kitchen island and kicked off my shoes, crossing my legs under me.
“So you don’t think I’m just being crazy?”
Ressler sat down on the stool in front of me. “Why would I? Everything about our world is crazy. If you never dreamt of Cape Flattery a few months back, we wouldn’t have been able to find your dad. You think that dream was a coincidence? It wasn’t. Nothing’s coincidence anymore. You think your dreams now are trying to tell you something? They are. You should listen to them.”
I had to tell Ressler everything. Well everything apart from thinking Caleb might be hijacking my mind. “I’m dreaming of Cape Flattery again. It has to mean something.”
“Like what?”
“Like that’s where my real dad might be.”
Ressler rubbed his hands over his eyes and groaned.
“I can prove it,” I interjected before Ressler started on why the dream probably meant anything but that.
“How?”
“Upstairs, there are boxes of my mom’s things. Pictures, clothes, ornaments, everything. If I can find a picture or something…”
“Did you go and see your dad today to try and see something?” Ressler asked me.
“Maybe.” I felt guilty and I had no idea why. My powers, my dad. Why was I always having to explain myself?
“Did you see anything?”
“No. I couldn’t make any of it out. Either I’m not strong enough or he doesn’t remember anything.” I found myself hoping I just didn’t have the strength. It had been five months and if my dad hadn’t remembered anything by now, surely that couldn’t be a good thing.
“You’ll get stronger.”
“Not without practice.”
“Not this again.” Ressler’s voice was stern, and the look on his face said louder than any words could that we were not having this conversation again.<
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“You promised.” I was whining but he wasn’t going back on a promise. I wouldn’t let him.
“There’s nothing wrong with your memory. If I help you, will you lay off this dad stuff for a while? You’re gonna need all your energy put into this.”
“Sure.” I smiled at him like I wasn’t lying through my teeth. “I’m just gonna use the bathroom real quick.”
“Fine.” Ressler got up. “I’ll wait for you out front, in my car. We can’t practice here.”
Even better. He was leaving the house. “I’ll be right out,” I said.
I hurried up the stairs. I heard Ressler leave and his car door close behind him.
My heart was thudding in my chest when I climbed into my dad’s wardrobe and climbed the stairs to the attic. I pulled my IPhone out of my pocket and used the light from the screen to pick out the boxes stacked at the side of the pitch black room.
I had never been up here since I first found it months ago, led by a voice that belonged only in my head. My dad had promised to get everything out and have my mom’s things where we could see them, but he had never done it. I didn’t think he really wanted to. I don’t think he ever had any intention of getting this stuff out.
I kneeled down in front of the boxes and dug my hand into the first one, pulling out a handful of pictures. That would have to do. With any luck, one of them would be what I needed. I quickly go up and left the attic.
I shoved the pictures under my pillow, in my bedroom. I wouldn’t get a chance to do this later. I never got a minute alone anymore, and if Ressler wanted to believe that I was willing to forget about this for a while, then that was up to him. I wouldn’t let him think any different.
I had no idea where we would be going so I grabbed my navy blue parka with a wool lining and a thick, white, furry hood. I did not want to get stuck freezing outside. I would need to concentrate, and not on how cold my fingers were, or how I couldn’t feel my feet. I put on a pair of tan boots that cut off at the knee, and my tan gloves with wool cuffs. I completed my winter ensemble with a cream, cable knit scarf and hat, complete with pom-pom. I was ready for anything and I would be toasty while doing it.