Aven's Dream (45 page)

School? It was close enough.

The woods?

My fingernails bit into my palms as I tried to decide which way to run. Then I saw the image from my dream. Opening my eyes, I looked down at my dress—and I knew where to go. Will’s house. Not the one on the coast, but the house here in town that I had only seen from the street, the one he had built a lifetime ago before Vladimir Fidatov had nearly burned the town of Winters to the ground.

I was in the historic district, so all I had to do was …
die
. Looking around desperately, I tried to get my bearings. The bakery was to the left, which meant that Kincaid Lane was to my right. Grabbing the skirt of my dress, I started running again. Toward what, I didn’t know.

My breath came in jagged bursts. Jogging a few miles at a time hadn’t prepared me for running full out for blocks and blocks. If it was cold, I couldn’t feel it. My lungs were on fire. My legs felt like lead weights.

Did anyone in the passing cars think it was strange to see a girl running through the night like she was being chased by a pack of wolves? No one stopped, and for that I was grateful. What I was even more afraid of was that Gen or James would stop me. But Fidatov had said he had given me
an ample head start
. I shuddered thinking of what that could mean.

Kincaid Lane was up ahead. Looking both ways, I darted out into the street and crossed toward the older residential section of Winters. The street was dark and deserted as I climbed the hill toward the last house. When I finally reached the gate, I reached up and grabbed the metal bar. Yelping in pain, I pulled back and saw a dark liquid covering my palms. I bent closer and saw roses—complete with thorny stems—woven all through the fence. Picking up the skirt of my dress, I reached forward and pushed on the metal again. It swung inward, and I stepped onto the property.

Suddenly I felt a blast of emotion so strong it nearly knocked me backward. The force of it was so intense that I could feel the word behind the emotion like it had been spoken in my ear.

No
.

I pressed against the feeling like it was a physical wall as I made my way up the hill toward the house. Surrounded by sprawling grounds, the stone structure had at least three levels and red-tiled roofing. As I made my way closer, I saw that the windows on the ground level had been covered over. The front entrance—with gargoyles guarding the stone steps—was lit by a torch, giving everything a medieval quality.

Hearing the sound of an engine, I turned and looked down the hill. From where I was standing, I saw a motorcycle turning onto Kincaid.
James
.

My pulse jumped. Whatever head start Fidatov had given me was over. Running up the steps, I pressed down on the door handle and pushed against the wood with both hands, leaving behind two bloodied handprints as the wood gave way. The second I burst into the room, the door swung back. Then I heard a bolt slide into place. The room was instantly and completely dark and silent.

“Will?” I whispered as I slid my hands along the wall, which felt smooth and impenetrable—metallic, not wooden.

I heard laughter, and then a TV screen came to life high up on the wall on the far side of the room.

“I do apologize, Aven. William is unavailable at the moment, but you can change that.”

Vladimir Fidatov’s image appeared onscreen. It startled me how beautiful he looked, much like Will, James, Edmond, and Gen. Impossibly beautiful. But his smile was cruel, like his shining, nearly black eyes.

I caught sight of the background, and it looked like he was driving—which meant he wasn’t here. The fear drained from my body. I just had to find Will.

“I’m here. What do you want from me?”

“Why, I would like you to release William.”

I felt another shockwave of emotion hit me hard in the chest. Shaking off the feeling, I looked toward the TV screen.

“How? Where is he?”

I heard a loud clicking noise, and suddenly a bright white spotlight illuminated the center of the room. I stared uncomprehendingly at the glass tank filled with water. It was like something from an over-the-top magic act where the illusionist is chained up at the bottom. In this tank, though, there was a giant stone coffin.

I felt the blood drain from my face.
My dreams
. In my dreams, I had seen all of this: the house on Kincaid, Will trapped underwater, the enormous sarcophagus.

Another light clicked on, and I saw a huge sledgehammer lying on a stone pedestal. Rushing toward it, I tripped over something on the ground.

“
Damn
!” someone cried groggily.

I froze. There was someone else in here with me—and I didn’t even want to think of what that meant. Suddenly a phone rang across the room. Running toward the glowing light of the screen, I picked it up and saw a name on the screen.
James
. It was Will’s phone—the one that Fidatov had called me from earlier. Picking it up, I heard James’s voice roar in my ear.

“
What did you do
?”

“I have to help Will.”

“He’ll
kill
you, dammit! Open the door.”

“I can’t,” I whispered.

I literally couldn’t. I didn’t think there was a way out of here. Setting down the phone, I walked back to the pedestal with the sledgehammer.

“Ah, James. Welcome,” Fidatov said cheerfully from the TV monitor. “Enjoy with my compliments a front-row seat to a fate far more creative than what I was able to afford you. Oh, and I truly hope you and Grace enjoyed your dance this evening.”

So that had been how Fidatov distracted James—by sending his past back to haunt him. I didn’t want to think of what Fidatov might have done to distract Gen. Reaching forward, I tried to lift the sledgehammer, but the handle slipped from my grip. Cursing, I gripped it with both hands and pulled. I walked toward the glass tank, holding the sledgehammer like I was going to swing at a baseball. Then, with all my strength, I swung low and hard. The metal connected with the glass, making a dull thud. Not a single crack appeared. Tightening my grip, I felt my hands stinging in protest as blood leaked between my knuckles.

Desperate, I backed up and then spun around like a discus thrower, hitting the glass with so much force that my teeth rattled together. Stepping back, I swung again, rewarded when I saw the tiniest crack appear in the glass. Will’s phone rang again, and I ignored it—until I heard someone pick up.

“Who the hell is this—and where the hell am I?” the angry male voice demanded into Will’s phone. “Is she still
alive
? What? Are you out of your mind? Why?”

Whoever had picked up Will’s phone stopped and turned toward me, the light from the phone partially illuminating his face like a flashlight during a campfire. My blood froze in my veins as I recognized his face—
Tyler Pitt
. He hadn’t gone missing; Fidatov had taken him. Suddenly I heard James’s voice over the speakerphone.

“Aven? I would like you to listen very carefully. If you release Will, then you and anyone else in that room with you is going to die. I’m asking you to be patient and wait for us—”

“Correction,” Fidatov’s voice said from the TV screen. “In less than twenty minutes from now, this structure is going to erupt into a ball of flames. Aven, if you wish to say goodbye to William before he must pick through the debris for his farewell, then I would recommend against James’s advice.”

Dropping the sledgehammer, I walked over to Tyler Pitt and snatched the phone from his hand.

“James?” I said quietly. “I hope you get your happy ending. Someday.”

I ended the call and walked back over to the sledgehammer. Fidatov’s laughter drowned out everything else as I turned back to the glass tank and swung again. A tiny leak sprang from the crack. Then I heard the glass shatter before a wall of water gushed out, knocking me off my feet. I hit the floor hard. Dazed and gasping for breath, I pushed myself upright and stared at the sarcophagus, which was resting about three feet off the floor on a concrete slab. For all I knew, it was empty. I looked closer. There were chains, like the kind used for ship anchors, wrapped around the stone—like someone was trying to contain whatever—or whoever—was inside.

Will
.

I stepped carefully through the glass as I looked for a way to open it. Suddenly another spotlight came down on a smaller pedestal with an oversized key. Snatching the key, I walked through the broken glass, looking for a padlock. When I found it, I shoved the key into the keyhole and turned it.

“Whoever you are, if you want to stay alive, then stop her,” James’s voice said over the speakerphone.

A hand grabbed me by the hair and pulled. Falling backward to the floor, I stared up at Tyler Pitt.

“Did you hear what that guy said, you psycho?” he growled at me. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Saying goodbye.”

I had never gotten the chance to say goodbye to my mom—and it haunted me. Now I might not get the chance to say goodbye to my dad, either. But
this
goodbye I could have. Not a fairy tale ending, but I had never expected one.

The other reason was because maybe, just maybe, Will knew how to beat Fidatov.

Suddenly I heard the chains binding the sarcophagus. At first, it was just a slight rattle. Then, as the metal actually began to move, I remembered the myth of Pandora’s box. The
box
, according to my freshman year English teacher, was actually a gigantic jar that the Greeks had sometimes used for human burial.

A second later, the chains burst, sending broken pieces of metal scattering to the ground as the lid to the container slowly began to move.

“What the hell is that?” Tyler Pitt gasped as he scrambled away from me into the darkness.

I would have said, “
My boyfriend
,” if I hadn’t been too terrified to move. I watched, frozen, as Will sat up. My heart was beating so fast that I thought I might pass out.

“I’m so glad you could join us, William,” Fidatov said jovially.

Will turned, his eyes scanning the room. As soon as I saw his face, I knew this wasn’t the same Will I loved. His eyes were gray and dead, his features perfect and inhuman.
This
was what Will had spoken of when he had referred to himself as a monster. I flinched at the sound of floodlights clicking on one at a time, bathing the room in blinding, white light. When the light hit him, Will hissed like he had been burned.

“Their terror is quite delicious, is it not?” Fidatov asked, speaking to Will, not us.

“This had
better
be some messed up reality show,” Tyler Pitt whined from somewhere behind me. “I am so going to sue for this, Brian! You asshole!”

Will’s gaze suddenly became riveted on Tyler Pitt, the look in his eyes purely predatory.

“Tyler,” I whispered. “
Shut up
!”

Turning in my direction, Will leapt up onto the edge of the sarcophagus, perching in an unnatural position that made me shudder.

“Will?” I said softly. “Do you remember me?”

He breathed in and then grinned in a way that made tremble with fear.

“Mmm, an empath,” Will purred, licking his lip. “
Delicious
.”

His cold, dead eyes left mine, and he looked around for Tyler just as the phone rang again. I saw Tyler lunge for it. Even if Tyler didn’t know what Will was, he probably knew enough to be afraid.

“Yeah,” Tyler rasped. “She let him out. I don’t know! I think he called her delicious. … Okay, lady. Just get me out of here.”

Tyler held out the phone.

“Will, it’s Genevieve, someone who cares for you a great deal. I know somewhere in your mind you remember the girl in there with you. Aven Casey. I never thought it possible, but you fell in love with her—”

“
Love
?” Will laughed in a menacing way. “I would never believe in such an absurd emotion.”

I felt everything in me sink. Any hope I had had—that somehow our love would overcome whatever Fidatov had done to him—melted away.

“Will, you have to trust me,” Gen pleaded in a calm voice. “You have to fight the craving until we can help you. Please … don’t do something you will regret for the rest of your existence.”

“Don’t listen to her, William. Why fight what you are?” Fidatov asked pleasantly.

Will looked momentarily conflicted. It was like watching the cartoon with the angel and devil on either shoulder, whispering in the person’s ear.

“Vlad?” Gen said in blood-chilling tone. “I’m going to enjoy dropping you to the bottom of the ocean again. I imagine Will shall spend the rest of his existence making yours a living hell.”

“William, look at her—bleeding, terrified. Ripe for the taking. Doesn’t it make you …
crave
her?” Fidatov taunted.

Will smiled again. The menacing quality behind his expression was even more terrifying on his beautiful face. Then he sprang forward—and I lost sight of him. Hearing Tyler cry out, I swiveled around as I pushed myself off the ground.