Beyond Reason (Beyond Love Series #3)

by Bolton, Karice

  Thank you also to:

  Cover artist: Phatpuppy

  Typography: BB Designs

  Female model: Anya Kod

  Male model: Steve Alario

  Makeup/Hair artist: Nadya Rutman

  Photography: Teresa Yeh

  Contact the Author

  To contact the author, please visit her online at http://www.karicebolton.com or via

  Twitter/Facebook/Pinterest @KariceBolton.

  If you’d like to be included on her mailing list to find out about

  new releases, click here or go to Karice Bolton’s website

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Mom!” I hollered more for my benefit than hers.

  I wasn’t in earshot yet, but I loved the way my voice carried into the wind off the sea. The constant sloshing of the waves guided me to the rocky beach where my mom was collecting her thoughts and anything else that might catch her fancy. It was a pleasant night with only the moon’s warm glow lighting my way on the very uneven path that weaved through the overgrown blackberries and tall beach grass. Doing my best to dodge the prick of the thorns, I carefully managed to stay on the trail. I didn’t need to be all scarred up for my upcoming celebrations.

  This little stretch of beach was hard to get to and rarely frequented by anyone, which was why we loved it. The beach wasn’t what most people pictured when they thought of a beach. The beaches along Washington’s coast, more often than not, had tiny rocks and pebbles in place of sand and many boulders and downed logs that made for awfully fine seating, not places to spread out on a beach towel and soak up the rays.

  The makeshift trail finally ended, allowing me to spot my mom’s pile of things. I hoped she was ready to leave. It was getting a little chilly, and I hadn’t prepared to be here long. We had a crockpot full of chili waiting for us both, but she wanted me to meet her here at our special spot, so she could tell me something. I had no idea what it was that she wanted to tell me, but since so much was going on in my life right now it could be about anything. I just graduated from high school. My eighteenth birthday was almost here. Our huge summer solstice celebration, Litha was fast approaching, along with the big event, my acceptance into the Witch Avenue Coven on the same day.

  “Mom?” I yelled, as I trudged my way over to her bag, looking around the empty beach.

  Only the crashing of waves answered.

  I didn’t see her anywhere.

  “Mom?” I tried again, batting down the worry that wanted to make its way into my consciousness.

  Realizing my voice was no match for the roar of the waves, I started walking toward one of the larger boulders, in case she was sitting where I just couldn’t see her. The pebbles were loose, creating an extra treacherous journey since I was only in flip-flops. Poor planning on my part, but I didn’t think that I’d have to hunt her down. She could be sidetracked so easily.

  Finally making it to the mammoth piece of black rock, I became annoyed when I saw she wasn’t there. I wasn’t in any way prepared to be marching up and down the beach looking for her. I grabbed my cellphone out of my pocket and dialed her number as I went back toward her pile of things to sit. Maybe I should stay put, and she’d return soon enough. As the phone rang on my end, I got closer to my mom’s pile and heard her bag ringing. Darn! She didn’t take it with her—odd. That was always a rule of hers when hiking or at the beach. We carried our phones with us at all times.

  I squatted down to see what she brought with her, hoping an item might lead me in the right direction to find her. If she were gathering plants, then I’d know better where to go. I opened up her bag and panic set in immediately. The shirt she was wearing when she left our house was stuffed in her bag, wrapped around the shoes she was wearing. This made no sense. Her wallet and jewelry were in this bag. She wouldn’t just leave all this stuff for a stranger to steal. Something was wrong. Jumping up, the insides of the bag dispersed onto the beach, but I didn’t care.

  “Mom!” I screamed, kicking off my flip-flops so that I could run up the hill closest to me.

  Reaching the top of the hill, I scanned the grassy area quickly seeing nothing. Spinning around, I looked back toward the rocky beach. From this vantage point, I was able to see everything and nothing. My heart started pounding as I began dialing 9-1-1.

  “911, what is your emergency?” The operator answered.

  “My mom. She’s missing,” I cried into the phone, dread spreading everywhere.

  “Calm down, ma’am. Where are you located?”

  Calm down? I’m not hyper, just scared!

  “I’m at the beach just off of Snoqualmie Avenue, down the trail,” I replied

  “Is your mother in the water? How long has she been missing?”

  “I don’t know!” I screamed into the phone. “Please just send help.”

  Okay, now I’m panicking! I can’t calm down. My mom isn’t where she’s supposed to be.

  “Ma’am, help is on the way. What is your name?”

  “Triss,” I replied, as I ran back down the hill to search the beach or the water, or anywhere but where I was.

  Could my mom be in the water? I didn’t even think of that. She wouldn’t be in the water, would she?

  “And what is your mother’s name?” the operator asked blandly.

  “Veronica Spires,” my voice panted with the exertion.

  “Where are they? When will they get here? She needs help!”

  I reached the edge of the water. The waves were lapping against my bare feet. Looking out toward the sea, I saw nothing but water and rocks illuminated by the moon’s light. There was no way she would be out there. She never went into the water without someone with her. Oh, my God, where could she be?

  The police sirens, off in the distance, were becoming louder by the second. Help was on the way but not nearly soon enough.

  “Veronica! Mom! Veronica!” I kept hollering. “Where are you?”

  “Ma’am, help has arrived. They’re making their way down the trail. I’m going to stay on the phone until they reach you.”

  My body crumpled. Falling on my knees, the tears began pouring down my face. This couldn’t be happening. I turned off my phone. The police were almost to the beach, and I didn’t need the operator to hear my cries. The police chatter of CB radios began rolling through the air mixed with the barks of the K-9 units.

  This was a nightmare. There was no way this could be happening. My eyes darted back to the hilltop that I had just left. A man was standing on the hill, watching me, with the darkness working in his favor.

  “Hey,” I yelled, looking at him, trying to see any sort of distinguishing features. He froze in place.

  I jumped back to my feet, with my jeans soaked from where I had been sitting. I started running up to the hill, and the stranger took off.

  “Miss!” a policeman yelled.

  “Someone was watching me!” I cried, not stopping my run. “They might have my mom!”

  I reached the top of the hill in a flash, and there was no one to be seen.

  A policeman came up right behind me.

  “Are you, Triss?” His voice was gentle, probably used to dealing with lunatics, not sure which way they were headed in any given situation. “I’m Officer White.”

  “Yes, my mom. She’s not here.” The tears started again. “I was supposed to meet her and all that’s here are her things. I can’t find her. Clothes, wallet, jewelry are all that’s here.” I took a deep breath. “Then there was a guy, I think staring at me.”

  “Where at?” he asked immediately.

  “Right here,” I replied. “He was standing right here. I think it was a guy. That’s why I came this way. It’s so dark it’s hard to tell. I was sitting on the beach right before you got here and noticed the person.”

  “Where are your mother’s things, Triss?” he asked, scanning the area and coming up with the same thing as me, nothing. There was no one here.

  I pointed over to the beach, completely defeated. />
  He nodded and looked briefly at the ground for any sign of tracks besides mine; he then turned to the officers at the base of the hill and signaled for them to wait.

  We walked back down the hill, and Officer White explained to the others the situation. I had no idea how he got so much from my few sentences. He pointed at the two officers who were in control of the German shepherds, and he motioned for me to come with them to where my mom’s belongings had been dumped by my carelessness.

  “Triss, we are going to allow our K-9 members, Sunny and Brandy, to smell some of your mother’s items, okay?” Officer White asked, looking intensely into my eyes. He had to be well over six feet tall and commanded the attention of anyone who looked in his direction.

  All I could do was nod. It felt like if I even opened my mouth to breathe, I would break down again.

  One of the female officers, who had her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, came over to me and touched my shoulder softly. She quieted her chattering CB on her belt.

  “Is there someone we can call for you?” she asked.

  “My aunt,” I muttered, staring off over the darkened sound again, my eyes filling with tears.

  One of the other female officers gave commands to Sunny and Brandy and off they went in the direction of the hill. The very same hill I had just come from with Officer White. They were racing off into the distance with the humans following right behind. My mom had been in that area. The dogs caught her scent.

  It seemed like hours, but Aunt Vieta finally arrived. Her eyes wide with horror from the scene she witnessed in the parking lot. I couldn’t even begin to count how many police and search and rescue arrived. There were divers already out in the ocean, and everywhere I turned, there was activity.

  I had shutdown. I was merely operating on autopilot. Aunt Vieta started running toward me and scooped me into her arms.

  “We’ll find her, Triss. We’ll find her,” she kept mumbling into my ear, but it did little to comfort me.

  “I know we will,” I nodded in agreement.

  She released me and stood back looking at me.

  “Here, I thought you might be freezing.” She shoved a coat into my arms that she had tied around her waist.

  “Officer White’s over there,” I said, pointing toward his direction. He was busy getting updates from the teams that had spread in various directions. “He’d be the best person to fill you in. I don’t think I could.”

  I appreciated my aunt’s presence, but I would rather just sit on the beach listening to everyone’s updates, hoping I would find something out that would bring my mom back immediately. Instead, I was bombarded with statistics about the longer the victim was missing how exponentially the odds of finding them decreased. I doubt that was for me to hear, but I did. And those words would forever haunt me.

  “The waters are getting a little rough. We’ll start again in the morning,” were the first of many sentences that etched a place in my mind, creating a level of despair I didn’t think possible.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The screams shattered my sleep. My heart was pounding seventy miles an hour. I felt for my fleece blanket to throw off, since I seemed to be stuck to my sheets with gallons of sweat. I looked around my blackened room, with only the red glow of the alarm clock displaying 2:00 am to comfort me. My heart sank as I lost the battle for another night’s sleep. I heard the gentle snore of my bulldog, Matilda, rattling through the air. She was used to my screams by now. I promised myself with a little whisper that I was safe. It was only a nightmare — another nightmare. That was all it was. It couldn’t possibly be real, that kind of terror. The dreams were coming closer together now, and worse yet they seemed to lead to nowhere but sleep deprivation.

  I commanded myself to take deep, steady breaths to stay calm. Still shaky from the last images that had blasted into my brain, I tried to rid myself of the awful scene replaying over and over in my mind — my death. The mere thought of the attacks made me want to hide from the world in my closet. The black, swirling creatures were coming at me and through me from every direction. Their mouths open, displaying several sets of teeth with blood dripping from their lips, waiting for me to make a mistake. This was not a world I recognized. How could my mind even create such deadly monsters? The elements of realism spooked me beyond belief. I grabbed a tissue from my nightstand and wiped the dampness from my forehead, unsure of how much longer I could keep this up. Every night and every dream seemed different. They all had similar storylines, to a degree. Sometimes the unfamiliar characters reappeared to haunt me over and over again. It just depended on the night. Part of me felt as if I should know these people or at least the events that kept taking place. Why else would they keep reappearing? However, the events were so fantastical, the thought that I should recognize them made me feel even crazier for thinking it.

  Fully awake now and completely disappointed in the prospect of another long and drawn out day without sleep, I trudged to the window and opened my heavy, red velvet curtains to expose the serenity of a dark outside world. The snow was slowly floating down leaving a beautiful pattern on the sidewalk, illuminated only by the streetlight. The sight brought a shiver to my bones. Even though a minute ago I’d had to wipe the wet heat of fear from my body. I couldn’t keep chasing and being chased like this. I couldn’t go on thinking my life was in danger every time I closed my eyes. I needed rest. I needed sleep. Lack of sleep was making things worse. I was sure of it.

  “What is all of this telling me? I don’t even know the people in my dreams!” I whined to Matilda.

  She responded with her usual snorts and snores, sprawling out even more on my mattress now that I had left a larger area for her enjoyment. I flipped on my nightstand light, which cast its familiar glow, as I attempted to move back into bed without displacing Matilda. A sigh escaped as I grabbed my latest book, which was ready and waiting for another night like all the others.

  I opened the book to the third chapter as my mind attempted to identify the people in my dream. Seeing crumpled remnants of humans discarded all over was never something that I could get used to regardless of whether it was a nightmare or not. I was getting used to seeing the swirls appear to attack me, but I was also intrigued by the thought of trying to figure out the identity of the random strangers who appeared time and time again. Sometimes they were the same people. Other times, a completely new set would make an entrance. I always avoided looking into their eyes because, during one of my very first nightmares, all I saw was the dull glow of death staring right back at me. I couldn’t stomach it twice, and somehow my subconscious self knew to never look them in the eyes, whoever they were.

  Thankfully, the latest batch of characters had seemed kind — as if I knew them from somewhere although that wasn’t possible. I’m sure they must have made an appearance in other dreams. I just don’t remember them. One stood out in particular. He was trying to save me, but it was too late. The black, soulless swirls got me. My nightmares had never gotten to that point before. Never did I know the conclusion to these nightmarish adventures before tonight.

  This time, I saw how it ended. I didn’t make it. It wasn’t a painful process. I didn’t feel tortured. It seemed like I should have felt the attack. I didn’t. What I was left with were horrible feelings of despair and loneliness wrapping their way through every aspect of my life. My soul felt like an empty cavern as I saw myself being blown away into the wind. I remembered looking back at the strangers on the ground. They were looking up towards the sky at me as I left to wherever bodiless souls go. The one guy who was so memorable was staring back at me, tears streaming down his face. He was the one who tried to save me. He’d risked his own life against the monsters for me. He was only a minute too late. My heart now longed for him, this figment of my imagination. I didn’t know why.

  I couldn’t shake the images this time. They were too haunting, too real. And now I was going crazy believing that these things had some sort of significance. Lack of sleep
was finally catching up with my fragile state of mind.