by Ally Blue
“And remember,” Bo continued. “Never investigate alone. That’s especially important now.”
“Here’s a thought,” Amy said. “Tomorrow, let’s try a different approach. One psychic and one non-psychic on each team—”
“Pretty much like we’ve been doing, right?” David broke in, grinning.
“Yes, David,” Amy answered with exaggerated patience. “But this time, the psychic on the team can try to sense whatever’s in the house while the other team member records the area with a video camera and EMF detector. We could use the same procedures we used today, only this time we’d be able to see if any of the weird things Cecile, Sam and Andre have felt correlate with any concrete instrument readings. Sound good?”
Everyone agreed that it did. Bo grinned. “Okay, that’s settled. Same teams work for everybody?”
Nods all around. Sam glanced at Amy and saw her shake her head very slightly. She was looking at Bo with a sort of resigned sadness. It made Sam feel as if he’d wronged her somehow by his attraction to Bo, even though he knew that was ridiculous.
David got to his feet, took Cecile’s hand and pulled her up with him. “If it’s all the same to y’all, I’m off to bed. I’m whupped.”
“Me too,” Cecile added, a bit too quickly. “‘Night, all.”
They left the room hand-in-hand amidst a chorus of good nights. Andre chuckled. “Who actually thinks they’re going to sleep right now?”
Sam smiled. “They’re pretty obvious.”
“Some people just can’t hide it, I guess.”
Amy’s voice was cool, but her eyes cut like lasers. Sam felt the blood rise in his cheeks. He hated it. He stood and started toward the door.
“I’m off to bed too.” It was far too early for bed, but Sam didn’t care. He needed to be alone, no matter what anyone else thought of it. “See y’all in the morning.”
Amy, Bo and Andre all called good night. Out in the foyer, Sam turned and caught Bo’s eye. They stared at each other, and Sam found himself unable to look away. He didn’t see the teasing smile from earlier that day on Bo’s face anymore, or the barely concealed lust he’d almost grown used to. What he saw in Bo’s eyes was a longing for closeness. For someone to share his life with. Someone to understand and accept all that he was.
It was a yearning Sam understood, even though it was new to him. He turned away, feeling lonelier than he ever had.
Chapter Eleven
The dream returned three times that night. Every time Sam closed his eyes and let himself drift, the scene played out once again in his mind. Sex, blood and death, pleasure and horror intermingling until he could no longer tell which one was making his heart thud so painfully. After waking for the third time in a cold sweat, Sam switched on the light and sat huddled against the headboard of the bed, trying to shake the vision of his dream man’s shredded insides strewn across the sheets, the rivulets of blood running down the strangely indistinct walls.
The hours passed slowly while Sam sat there, wide awake and trembling with tension, arms locked around his bent knees. When the first dawn light leaked through the curtains, he carefully unwound himself, got dressed and headed downstairs.
He wasn’t surprised to find Andre slumped half-asleep across the dining-room table, two fingers loosely looped through the handle of a steaming coffee mug. “Hey, Andre,” Sam said on his way across the room. “Dreams again?”
Andre gave him a bleary look. “Fucking things kept me up ‘bout all night. I finally came on down here an hour or so ago. Figured I may as well, since I sure as hell wasn’t getting any sleep.”
“Yeah, same here.”
Sam shuffled into the kitchen, took a large mug with cartoon cows on it from the cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee. Yawning, he dragged himself back into the dining room and sat across the table from Andre.
“So what’d you dream?” Sam asked, sipping the strong, bitter brew.
“Same thing as before. Everybody dead, body parts all over the place.” Andre let out a frustrated growl. “Sucks, man. I never had bad dreams before. These things are fucking killing me.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, I woke up so often I finally just gave up and sat there awake until it started getting light.”
Andre stared thoughtfully at him. “What are your dreams like, Sam?”
Sam wanted to tell someone, and he figured Andre would sympathize in a general way. Certain details, though, he intended to keep to himself. “It started out with a sex dream,” Sam said, staring at the chip in the rim of his mug so he wouldn’t have to look Andre in the eye. “The first night, I dreamed I was…you know, having sex. With someone I couldn’t see. The next night I dreamed I went to touch h—um, the person, and my hand was scaly and had these huge long claws.”
“Wow,” Andre said, eyes wide. “Nasty.”
Sam smiled grimly. “Wait, it gets better. The last two nights, I’ve dreamed that after the sex, I killed the person I was with. Just ripped ‘em right open with those fucking awful claws while I was still inside.”
A visible shudder ran through Andre’s body. “Jesus, Sam.”
“Yeah.” Sam yawned again, so hard it made his jaw ache. “Christ, how the hell are we supposed to function like this?”
“Fuck if I know.” Andre drained his cup and shoved his chair back from the table. “I’m going for more caffeine, you need a refill?”
“Not just yet, thanks,” Sam mumbled. “I’ll get some in a minute.”
Andre nodded and slouched into the kitchen. Sam sat blinking at the bovines romping across his coffee mug and wondered how on earth he was going to survive another three days.
Eventually the rest of the group showed up as well. Bo evidently hadn’t gone running that morning; he came into the kitchen just behind Amy, looking almost as tired as Sam felt. He blushed and turned away when Sam caught his eye. Sam hid his humorless smile behind his mug. Maybe I’m not the only one having sex dreams. The thought didn’t comfort him.
“Damn,” David said, perusing the rather subdued bunch gathered around the table. “Didn’t anybody sleep? Y’all look about three-quarters dead.”
“Thank you, Mister America,” Andre groused.
David smirked into his scrambled eggs. “Not my fault that this house doesn’t get under my skin like it does yours, big guy.”
Andre threw a piece of toast at him. David laughed.
“Hey, Cecile.” Sam leaned toward her. “Have you been having any weird dreams since you’ve been here?”
Cecile nodded. “Yes. Bad ones, mostly. But that’s not really unusual for me, so I haven’t paid it that much attention.” She tilted her head and gave him a curious look. “Why do you ask?”
Sam shot a glance at Andre, who shrugged and nodded. “Andre and I have both been having bad dreams.”
“Fucking horrible nightmares is more like it,” Andre added.
“Exactly,” Sam said. “Violent, bloody ones. And they’re getting worse every night.”
Cecile’s eyes widened. “Oh. Me too. Good God, I never stopped to think that they might have anything to do with this house.”
Bo leaned his elbows on the table. “I’d like for all three of you to tell us as much as you can remember about your dreams. It might be useful.”
David screwed his face up in distaste. “Hey, can we wait ‘til after breakfast for that? I don’t wanna hear about blood and guts while I’m eating.”
“Wuss,” Amy teased. She was smiling, but Sam could tell her heart wasn’t in it. The crease between her eyes and the worried looks she kept giving Andre announced her concern to anyone who cared to see.
“Okay, we’ll wait. No big rush.” Bo stood. “Whenever you’re done eating, everybody meet in the library. We’ll hear about these dreams, then we’ll split up and start doing the sweep the way we talked about last night.”
Bo headed into the library, his coffee mug in his hand. Sam managed not to stare at him as he went. The way the man walked was pure sex an
d would surely get Sam into trouble if he wasn’t careful. He waited until Amy and Andre had both gone, then got himself another cup of coffee and followed them. David and Cecile appeared a few minutes later.
“All right,” Bo said as soon as everyone was settled. “Let’s hear it. Cecile?”
Cecile sat in one of the chairs at the round table, twisting her rings around her fingers. “The dreams take place here, in Oleander House. I’m either outside or on the sun porch, and I can feel that there’s something wrong inside. So I go in. There’s blood all over the walls and the floor, and I can’t find anyone. I keep calling your names, but nobody answers. There’s not even any bodies or anything. Just the blood. I try to leave, but I can’t find the way out. And that’s when I wake up.”
Andre stared at her. “That’s almost exactly what I’ve been dreaming. Except in my dream there’s body parts all over the place too. And I’ve never dreamed that I can’t leave.”
“Have you tried?” Cecile asked very quietly.
Andre rubbed his chin. “No, I haven’t. But I don’t know it’s a dream when I’m in it, and it doesn’t occur to me to try. Do you?”
Cecile nodded. “I’ve been practicing lucid dreaming for years. That’s why I’ve tried to leave the house in my dreams. And it’s very strange, actually, that I can’t get out. I’ve never had that happen before, come to think of it.”
“What about your dreams, Sam?” Bo turned his sharp, curious gaze to Sam. “Tell us about them.”
Sam sighed inwardly. He’d been half-hoping Bo would forget about him in the excitement of Cecile and Andre’s nearly identical dreams.
“The first night,” Sam began, avoiding Bo’s gaze, “I dreamed I was having sex with someone whose face I couldn’t see. It’s started out that same way every night, but each time it’s gone further. First I had scales and claws instead of a hand, and the last couple of nights I’ve dreamed that I killed the person with my claws while I was having sex with them.”
“Fuck, Sam,” David interjected in the stunned silence that followed Sam’s terse speech. “That’s seriously twisted.”
“Tell me about it,” Sam said with a twinge of bitterness.
Amy pursed her lips. “So your dreams have escalated every night.”
“Pretty much, yeah.” Sam darted a glance at Bo. Bo was watching him, as if wondering the same thing Sam had wondered every single time he woke gasping and shaking in the night. I don’t want it to be him, Sam thought with a touch of panic. Not like this.
Bo cleared his throat and looked away. “Well. This is an interesting development.”
“No shit.” David took Cecile’s hand. “But what the hell does it mean?”
No one had an answer for that. “I could do some research,” Cecile offered. “See if I can find out anything about the significance of these kind of dreams.”
“Good idea,” Bo said. “You can start on that after we finish up with this morning’s investigations.”
“Speaking of which,” Andre added, getting to his feet, “we should get started. Are we still keeping the same teams as yesterday?”
Amy shot a suspicious glance at Bo. “Maybe we should switch.”
“You trying to get rid of me, babe?” Andre grinned and smacked her on the butt. “You’re gonna hurt my feelings.”
Amy laughed in spite of the worry in her eyes. “Come on, you know better than that. I’m just saying, maybe the investigation would benefit from a change in teams.”
“I have to disagree.” Frowning, Bo tugged on the end of his braid. “I think that it’s best to keep our two couples teamed up. I’m thinking that Cecile and Andre would be more relaxed if they’re around the people they feel most comfortable with.”
Bo held Amy’s gaze boldly, eyes bright with challenge. Amy stared back, cheeks pink. She clearly knew what Bo was doing, and why. Sam watched, fascinated, as the two fought silently for dominance of the situation. He couldn’t help feeling a warm glow in his belly at Bo’s transparent desire to spend time with him.
“He’s right, Amy,” Andre said, unknowingly sealing Bo’s victory. “I like Bo and David just fine, but I’m most comfortable with you. If I have to be a pro psychic here, I’d rather you were there with me.”
The corner of Bo’s mouth lifted in a barely there smile. Amy’s eyes flashed a warning at Bo before she turned to smile at Andre. “All right, hon. If you need me, I want to be with you.”
Andre pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you.”
“All right,” Bo said. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get started. Amy and David, you and I can take the video cameras and EMF detectors. Cecile, Andre and Sam, carry notebooks and pens so you can write down what you sense. Don’t worry about anything else. Let your partner worry about taking readings and getting video. And remember, check in on the radio every ten minutes.”
There followed a few minutes of chaos as equipment was claimed and the teams were assigned areas to investigate. Then Sam trailed Bo out the library door and up the stairs, and the morning’s work began.
In spite of his fight to remain paired with Sam, Bo barely acknowledged Sam’s existence. Sam ignored Bo’s seeming indifference with an ease that surprised him, concentrating instead on finding the strange dark thread of alien presence he’d sensed before. It frustrated him beyond belief that he couldn’t pick it out even though he knew it was there somewhere.
“I’m not getting it, Bo,” he burst out finally, standing in the middle of his bedroom with his eyes squeezed shut. It was the last room on their list. He’d thought for sure if he were to feel anything it would be here, where he’d experienced the most erotic and terrifying dreams of his life.
“Don’t worry too much about it,” Bo said. “There was no guarantee that you would. It was worth a shot, though.”
“I know it’s here,” Sam muttered, mostly to himself. He opened his eyes and looked at Bo. “It’s here in this house, somewhere. I know it is.”
Bo stared back at him. Something in his eyes made Sam’s pulse race. Bo took a step toward him, then another, the camera hanging neglected at his side. Sam stood stock-still, watching Bo warily. Bo laid a hand on Sam’s arm, his gaze flicking down to Sam’s parted lips. And suddenly the thing was there, right there in Sam’s mind, burning cold and utterly inhuman.
Panic clutched at Sam’s throat. He gasped and fell to his knees, clawing at his chest, the notebook and pen clattering to the floor. “Bo,” he choked out, the sound barely audible. “It’s in…in me…inside…fuck…”
Bo dropped down beside him. “What are you talking about? Sam, what’s wrong?”
“The…the thing…from before…” Sam managed before his breath gave out. His head swam. He felt himself falling. Bo caught him and shifted him so that he lay across Bo’s lap with Bo’s arm under his head. He stared up into Bo’s eyes, trying desperately to convey without words what he was feeling.
It was a horrible sensation, as if his body had become a conduit of some sort. As if whatever intelligence stalked the hidden corners of the house was using him for its own sinister purpose. His vision narrowed to a hazy tunnel. The room seemed to be shrouded by a thick gray miasma.
Bo’s fingers pressed to the side of Sam’s throat, searching for the pulse. His voice sounded faint and muffled. “Come on, Sam, stay with me, okay? Just hang on.”
Yanking the radio off his belt, Bo thumbed it on. “Someone come in, we have an emergency!”
Silence. Bo called again, with the same result. Through the ringing in his ears, Sam heard Bo curse and drop the radio on the floor before sound faded altogether.
Sam felt the quick heave of Bo’s chest as he drew a deep breath and started shouting for help, but he couldn’t hear a thing. Everything had faded to static. The temperature in the room plummeted. Sam could see his breath in the suddenly frigid air.
Something cold and malevolent slithered around and through him, the impossibly deep sound of it vibrating in his bones
. He fought it with all his strength, thrashing in its icy grip. Bo curled protectively around him, Sam felt the frantic thud of Bo’s heart against his cheek and the terrible presence vanished as abruptly as it had appeared. The cold dissipated along with it.
Sam collapsed in Bo’s arms, gulping air as fast as he could. He closed his eyes and let Bo hold him, too drained by his struggle to do otherwise. With the danger gone and his lungs working again, Sam couldn’t help noticing how good it felt to be cradled against Bo’s body.
“Sam? Fuck, are you all right?” Bo’s voice still sounded muted, but the fear came through loud and clear.
Sam nodded and gave Bo a weak smile. “Yeah. It’s gone now.”
Bo let out relieved breath. “Christ, you scared me half to death.”
“Sorry,” Sam whispered.
“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
The silence that fell between them was pregnant with all the things they couldn’t say. Bo leaned down, his braid slipping over his shoulder to brush Sam’s cheek. The soft touch set off tiny earthquakes in Sam’s body. Without thinking about what he was doing or if it was right, Sam reached up and stroked his fingers along the line of Bo’s jaw. Bo’s eyelids fluttered. He leaned into the caress, lips parting with a soft sigh.
For one dizzying second, Sam thought Bo was going to kiss him. Then voices sounded in the hall, shouting for Bo and Sam as footsteps pounded toward the room, and the moment passed. Bo straightened up, shaking off Sam’s touch. “In here!” he called.
David and Cecile burst into the room. “What’s wrong?” David panted. “We heard you holler for help. Why didn’t you call us on the radio?”
“I tried,” Bo said. “It didn’t work.”
Cecile was already moving toward Sam. “Oh my God, Sam’s hurt!” she cried.
“No, I’m okay,” Sam assured her, though his voice still sounded weak enough to make her frown at him.
“Something happened, obviously,” David said, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Bo. “So what was it?”
