The Key (Heartfire) (7 page)

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Authors: Celeste Davis

BOOK: The Key (Heartfire)
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No, they didn't just hold him.

They burned him.

Dylan twisted against his bonds, making them burn even more deeply into his flesh.

He opened his mouth to scream but a roar came out. He sounded like a wild beast, trapped and angry. He sounded like an animal.

A big one.

Each morning he woke up exhausted, with marks on his wrists and ankles from where the chains had held him. Each morning he watched as the marks faded before his eyes.
 

He was tired but his body was stronger than ever. His reflexes twice as fast. No, they were
ten times as fast.
He knew what the guys were saying about him. That he juiced. That there was something wrong with him. Nobody should be that fast. That strong.

He was a machine.

He thrived on the competition. Thrived on the game. But then he'd have to go to sleep again. Earlier each night. He'd be filled with dread as he fell into bed, profoundly exhausted, as if he could not stay awake another second.

And then the horror began again.

Every night he'd hope for something new, for some relief from the pain. But it was the same every night since the night he'd kissed her lips. Kaylia. For the first time he was lucid dreaming without her. But somehow, she had started it all.

He knew what he needed to do.

He needed to end it. To sever their bond. Then maybe he would go back to normal again.

It would be like cutting out a part of himself, but he had no choice. The hunger and aggression was too strong. It was tearing him apart. He had to do something to stop it.

Otherwise he was afraid of what he might do.
 

The guys on the team were wrong. He wasn't turning into a machine. He was changing into a monster.

In the morning, he went to see her. He waited outside her dorm, staring up at the window that he somehow knew was hers. The bed covered with the homespun quilt, the other side of the room an explosion of pink ruffles.

His beautiful girl huddled over a sketchpad.

Before he even texted, her face had appeared in the window. It was as if she'd sensed him. The sight of her made his stomach clench with anxiety and longing. Another minute and she was downstairs, her face still soft and vulnerable from sleep.

Even now, knowing what he had to do, he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and hold her. Tell her everything was going to be okay. That he would never leave her.

But he had to.

Dylan balled his hands into fists, shoving them deep into his pockets.

Just... get it over with man.

"Hey."

"Hey. Are you... alright?"

He just stared at her. He wanted to memorize her face. He wanted to make sure he never forgot the girl that shouldn't have been real but was.

"Not really."

"I haven't seen you lately. Did I do something wrong?"

Her face was vulnerable as she chewed her full bottom lip. He felt disgusted with himself for not being stronger. If he tried harder- maybe he could resist the urges. Maybe he could avoid hurting her.

But that was a lie. He had fought with everything he had. Nothing would slow the dangerous feelings inside him.

Except this.

He shook his head vehemently. Then he sighed.

"No it's not you. But you were right. There is something- wrong."

"Wrong?"

"There's something too risky about us being together. I wish I could explain it. You feel it too, don't you?"

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. For a moment he thought she would argue with him. Fight him. He hoped she would.

She would tell him they would face this together. She would tell him she wanted to be with him- even if he was a monster. She would take him in her arms and kiss him, telling him she would never let him go.

But instead she nodded. His heart sank. He'd wanted her to reason with him- to tell him it didn't matter- that they'd find a solution together. Instead she just nodded and gave him a sad smile.

"Goodbye Dylan."

Then she walked away.

Chapter Ten

Kaylia


The next few weeks passed in a blur for Kaylia. She went about her business woodenly, feeling strangely hollow inside. It was stupid to feel that way. She barely knew Dylan. At least that's what she told herself again and again.

And yet she felt as if she had lost something precious. Dylan had made her feel like she was something more than just a shy little girl. Without him, it felt like the other half of herself was gone.

She was being pathetic.

So she picked herself up and got on with it. She went to class. She went to work. She'd been waiting for college forever. She might as well make the most of it.

As usual, she excelled at her studies. All except for Freshman Lit. She barely heard a word the professor said. She almost transferred out of the class, feeling foolish at the way her heart leapt every time she saw Dylan there.

She hadn't caught him looking at her again but she was certain she could feel his eyes on her sometimes. She noticed that Dylan had dark shadows under his eyes as well.

His and hers matching eye bags.

How... romantic.

Of course, she was sure he had moved on. She often saw girls trailing behind him, approaching him, almost glomming onto him. She had a strange feeling that he hated it.

That, like her, he wanted to be left alone.

But there was no way to know if that was true, or if it was wishful thinking.

Her ability to dream walk had returned, slowly at first. She felt tentative in a way she never had before. Almost like she was a stranger in the once familiar world of night. She stuck closer to home too, exploring the campus and city nearby.

It was hard but she forced herself to stay away from Dylan, even when her feet led her invariably to the athletic housing complex. She felt his pull though. She knew he was out there, dream walking without her. His power seemed to have grown, even as her own diminished.

Or if not diminished,
changed.

She shook her head, forcing herself to get back to work. She was at the dining hall again, working yet another shift. She'd even switched her time slot, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

Oh yeah, she was definitely pathetic.

This weekend though, she was going out. Charisse had made her promise to hit some parties with her. She dreaded it but she'd already agreed in a moment of weakness.

She snorted. Who was she kidding?
All
of her moments were moments of weakness.

She would just have to grin and bear it. Besides, she owed Charisse. So she would go and try not to look too miserable.

It wouldn't be easy, but she was getting better at it. She could just pretend she was back in high school, though she'd never even gone to a keg party back home. Not one.

Just blend in. Hide in plain sight.

Be invisible.

Dylan


He stared at the ceiling, willing himself to be still. The suite was full of women. Women who were hoping to be invited into his room in particular for some reason.

Not some reason. It was the lure of the quarterback. That and the fact that he was hard to get.

Every night it was the same. His suitemates had girls over, got drunk and hooked up with some of them. The girls made it more than obvious that they'd be happy to be with Dylan instead.

And he couldn't imagine being with anyone but her.

Kaylia.

The guys on the team had not been joking about the sheer number of women that made themselves available to him. He wasn't even tempted though. He knew it was impossible to replace Kaylia, to release her hold on him.

He couldn't be with her though. It was impossible. Dangerous.

So he ignored it.

Pushed it down.

Tonight he'd been drinking. That's when his guard was down. When he couldn't keep the thoughts of her at bay any longer. Lord knows, he was trying.

He'd do anything to block her out.

He was even thinking about dropping the class they had together. Like he'd been skipping the free meals at the athletic center. He didn't go at all, too afraid she would be there.

Afraid he wouldn't be able to stay away.

And last night, one of the football groupies had pushed him too far.

A blond girl who was becoming a regular in the suite. She'd offered him anything he wanted, in explicit terms. He'd laughed bitterly at the time and sneered.

"Be someone else."

The look of hurt on her face had been real. He'd been disgusted with himself. The girl was being disrespectful to herself, but she deserved better than that all the same. 'No, thank you' would have been better. He was a gentleman under normal circumstances.
 

Of course, these were anything but normal circumstances.

He was obsessed with a girl who shouldn't even exist. A girl with some sort of power over him. A girl who seemed to have unleashed something inside him that frightened him.

Something wild.

So he had to stay away.

The only time he thought of her was when he was alone. He'd let his lust rise and imagine she was there with him. He tried to ease the pressure again and again, night after night. Each time he thought of her. Each time, he envisioned taking her. He was not gentle. He was not sweet.

He was a raging animal with primal needs. And only one thing would soothe him. One person.

Her.

If he got drunk enough, if he came hard enough, maybe he could sleep deeply. Maybe he would not dream.

No. Not dream. He didn't dreamwalk anymore. Now every night he spent hours being torn apart and put back together as someone else.

Some
thing
else.

Dream was too nice a word for what had been happening lately. Lately he'd been having increasingly horrific nightmares. He was lucid for every torturous moment of the transformation that came over him. His bones lengthening, his skin changing, his mouth morphing forward into the shape of an animal's muzzle lined with viciously sharp teeth.

His keen awareness that only one person could help him. The one person who he'd chased away.

And he was too afraid to even look at her.

Chapter Eleven

Kaylia

 

"Excuse me."

Kaylia scooted backwards as a group of girls moved past her down the hallway. They all seemed to move in packs, like wild dogs. Pedigreed dogs with diamond collars and chips embedded under their sleek fur.

Speaking of dogs... a group of guys in backward baseball caps seemed to trail after the girls. She overheard a few of the things they were saying. Mostly the word 'hot' and 'ass.' One of them said he wanted to 'git some.'

Ew.

So this was a frat party.

What the heck was she doing here?

Kaylia sighed, staring at the rows of blond girls that seemed to line the walls. She felt more out of place than ever. Apparently Charisse was thinking about joining a sorority, and this was an open invitational.
 

The girl who had greeted them at the door had explained it all, making it seem like they were lucky to be there. Usually it was Greeks only. Kaylia sipped her tepid beer and resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

'Open invitational' apparently meant bad beer and a vile punch that she wouldn't even get close to.

Charisse on the other hand seemed to be entirely in her element. She was smiling and laughing, making friends so quickly it made Kaylia's head spin. She knew this world and wanted to be part of it. Even if that meant dragging her roomie along with her.

She'd dressed Kaylia in a pair of stretch jeans that she said she couldn't fill out well enough. A ruffly silk top completed the look. The whole outfit was a gift, just cast off clothes that Charisse thought would look better on Kaylia. She said it like it was no big deal. As if designer clothes grew on trees.
 

Maybe in Charisse's world, they did.

To be honest Kaylia was not sure what to make of her roommate most of the time.

Charisse was superficial and overly concerned with fitting in, but she was also smart as a whip. She got good grades seemingly without trying. And she seemed to know everything about everything.

She was exceedingly generous with Kaylia, giving her clothes and unsolicited advice. Trying to draw her shy roommate out of her shell. Kaylia appreciated it. She knew Charisse meant well and had a big heart.

But Charisse was also part of this world, and Kaylia knew she would never be comfortable here. Everyone either stared at her or ignored her completely, as if she were a part of wallpaper.

Speaking of which...
 

Two frat guys who had been staring at her came over with a six pack of imported beer. One of them was cute, in that frat boy way. His friend was tall and thin and gawkish. The cute one wore a baseball cap, facing forward thankfully. She reminded herself not to judge people based on appearance. After all, she hated it when people did that to her.

"Hey, you look lonely over here all by yourself."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You mean out of place?"

They were staring at her like she was a bug on the wall. The cute one offered her a beer and she took it, removing the top herself. She wasn't stupid. Bottled beer was safer at a college party.

Everyone knew that.

Baseball cap guy looked a little dazed as he leaned against the wall.

"No, man. You're gorgeous."

The other guy nodded, still staring at her.

"Yeah man. Exotic."

Kaylia cringed. That was one of the subtly racist compliments she got all the time. 'Exotic' meant black. It also implied a sort of wild sexuality that she definitely did
not
have.

"I'm American. Not very exotic."

"Yeah. Cool."

He was an idiot but the cute one wasn't as stupid. Baseball cap guy elbowed him. Hard.

"Shut up Harry. You sound like an idiot."

He grinned at her, holding out his hand.

"I'm Luke. This is Harrison. Harrison, go get us some more beer."

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