The Nightmare Charade (17 page)

“Good boy,” I said, leaning forward to give the chair a pat. “Selene will be here to see you in just a few minutes.”

Now the chair gave the impression of being delighted. It rolled back and forth several times on its wheels, squeaking them like mechanical peals of laughter. For whatever reason, the chair had taken a fancy to Selene. So much so that she'd been forced to give it its name just in an attempt to keep it under control. The ploy had worked. Some of the time.

Satisfied I was no longer in danger of trampling by chair, I scanned the rest of the room. Eli wasn't here. Frowning, I turned back to the door just in time to see him arrive.

He didn't hesitate, but came in and swept me up in a hug. It was a different kind of hug than all the ones before, as if he were trying to hold on to me while some invisible force attempted to wrench me away.

He's still worried.
I was, too, but I wasn't about to let it get to me. Not now, when we finally had a few moments alone. Besides this curse, even if it did exist, wasn't like the dragon's treasure in the story of Beowulf. Our feelings for each other weren't tangible, something we could put in our pocket and carry around. We were people—free-willed and able to make our own choices.
Like choosing to love each other no matter what.

“I've been thinking about what you said earlier,” I said over his shoulder, my voice a little breathless from his arms pressing me against him. “And I've decided that your dreams about me getting hurt don't mean anything. After all, I often dream about showing up to class naked and that never happens.”

Eli turned his head toward me, his lips brushing my neck. “That's a little disappointing.”

I ignored the comment and the way my skin reacted—all tingling and writhing with pleasure. “The only dreams that matter are the ones we share.”

I felt Eli's smile, as if his entire body had just breathed a massive sigh of relief. Sensing it, understanding that my faith in us had the power to make him feel this good, drove all my fear and doubt away, scattering it like sand in a windstorm.

Emboldened, I reached up and grabbed his face, dragging it down to mine. His mouth opened automatically, our lips touching, sliding together like silk on silk. I closed my eyes, the sensations overwhelming, setting every inch of my skin alight. I wanted the moment to last forever, to stretch it out like cotton, soft and willowy, and wrap it around my life as an eternal blanket.

But it seemed that no matter how strong our faith in each other was, we were still victims of bad luck and ill timing.

We never have enough time.

The sound of the door opening reached us, made worse by the sound of a throat clearing.

“Um, sorry you guys,” Paul said from the doorway. “Do you want me to wait outside?”

I sighed, and for a second I almost told him yes. But Eli was already pulling away, the moment gone.

Bad luck had struck us once again.

I wondered how long before that bad luck started to feel like fate.

 

12

The Other Nightmare

Several awkward minutes passed before the others arrived. Paul recounted his story about Titus's murder for Eli, which burned a little time. Then he demonstrated the usefulness of the shape-change necklace, which helped a little more. But still, it felt like an eternity before Selene and Lance arrived. At least the latter brought his laptop with him.

“This will work perfectly,” Paul said, cracking his knuckles over the laptop's keyboard. “I just need your username and password for the network access, Dusty.”

“Why hers?” Lance said. “Won't that mess up mine?”

Paul shook his head. “It'll be its own unique account, everything separate. And I would prefer to use Dusty's. No offense, but I know her better.” The “I trust her” was implied but everybody caught it just the same.

“Use mine,” Eli said. He was hovering near the desk, his arms crossed in a way that made the muscles in his chest stand out.

“Why?” Paul said.

Eli's stare spoke louder than words.
Because I don't trust you,
it said.

“Never mind.” Paul lowered his gaze to the computer screen. “What is it?”

While Eli spoke the information aloud, the rest of us pretended not to listen. Selene was the only one who pulled it off, but only because Buster was giving her such a hard time. In its excitement, the chair kept rolling side to side, bucking a little with each change of direction. She threatened multiple times to remove its wheels if it didn't stop, but so far the chair wasn't buying it.

“Okay, there we are,” Paul said. “Now, I've just got to purchase the software I need and we're good to go. Um…” He glanced around the room. “Does anybody have a way to pay for this? I would offer, but I'm pretty sure you don't want it traceable back to me. Not to mention ex-cons are notoriously broke.”

“Crap, I don't have anything,” I said. “Not unless the place takes CasterCard.”

“Doubtful,” said Paul.

“I don't have anything either,” Selene called from the far side of the room where Buster had just whisked her to.

Smirking, Lance pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket. “It's all right. I got it.” He slid out a card, seemingly at random. I spotted a half-dozen or more in there. “But you owe me, Everhart.” He winked.

Are you sure this is a good idea?
I wanted to ask him, not knowing how things stood between him and his father, but Selene was bound to wonder at my concern. I snickered instead. “Would you like that as a personal check or money order?”

Lance tilted his head. “What's a money order?”

“Never mind.”

As Paul set to work, I reached into my pocket and wrapped my fingers around the flash drive. It was possible Paul could salvage some of the data, but I doubted my mom would want me to trust him with the information.

“Okay,” Paul said a few minutes later. “This will take awhile to download. But as soon as it's done, I'll start working on the hack. But don't expect results right away. It might be a few days, easily.”

“Okay,” I said, and then taking a deep breath, I pulled the flash drive out of my pocket and held it out to him. No, Mom wouldn't want him trusted with it, but I didn't have anyone else to go to with it. And he was helping us save her. That had to count for something. “Would you mind seeing what you can do with this?”

“What's wrong with it?” Paul said, accepting the flash drive.

“It got rained on.” Then I explained what it contained.

Paul looked intrigued and a little shocked at the news, but he slowly nodded. “I'll see what I can do.”

“All right.” Eli put his hands on his hips. “In the meantime we should start identifying what we know and what we need to figure out.” He strode over to the dry-erase board on the far side of the room.

I watched him with hungry eyes. This was how I liked Eli best—in his private detective mode, focused to the point of fervency.

“So,” he said, a black marker in hand. “The most important thing we need to do is determine possible suspects.” Eli began jotting notes down on the board. “We have to determine who else might've killed Titus.”

“Oh, that's not going to be hard at all,” said Selene as she forcibly rolled the chair nearer to the rest of us once more. “Every single person who lost a loved one at Lyonshold has a motive for killing Titus Kirkwood.”

Eli licked his lips. “I know. Which is why instead we need to figure out just who else is capable of committing the crime. Valentine claims only a Nightmare could do it. So either there's another Nightmare around here we don't know about, or there's some other way the killer could've gotten onto the magically restricted ward.”

“What about one of the guards?” I turned to Paul. “You said they did regular floor checks, right?”

“Yeah, they did. I mean they do.”

Eli glanced over his shoulder. “Wait. Aren't there security cameras?”

Paul laughed. “Nope. They used to use them, I think, but they've been disconnected. They're too unreliable with the animation effect.”

“No kidding,” I said, remembering the dancing camera in the interrogation room.

Eli shook his head, bemused. He jotted “no cameras” on the board.

“Well, we know it wasn't one of the guards,” Selene said. “Not unless one of them is a Nightmare. No magic on the ward.”

“Who says he was killed with magic?” Eli said. “The guards could've killed him like an ordinary would have. A knife, box cutter, even a razor blade would do the trick if applied to the right area.”

I shivered, remembering Katarina' taunt about my mother. Had she chosen that knife just because it was the only traditional weapon on the table? Or did she know something about Titus's murder? I wondered what her parents did for a living.

“If it was a guard,” I said, turning to Eli, “the killer could've slipped into Titus's cell during the floor check, killed him, and came back out and gave the all clear. Then all he had to do was wait for the next floor check to report the murder. Or let one of the other guards discover the body.”

“Yes, that could work,” Eli said, biting his lip. He wrote the word
guards
on the board beneath the column
suspects
. He paused, staring at it, his mind working so hard I could almost hear the gears churning. Then to my surprise, he shook his head. “No, it's a good theory, but I bet when we get the case files we're going to find all the guards have been cleared.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked. I noticed a fray on my jeans and started picking at it.

“Because Valentine knows what he's doing.” Eli exhaled loudly. “The guards would've been the first people he investigated and cleared. If the killing couldn't have been accomplished with magic, then the easiest solution is that it was an inside job. But I bet they all passed the lie detector test or whatever it is magickind do in that situation.”

“The guilt test,” I said, glowering. “Valentine is a guilt demon. A Crimen, I think it's called.”

“Wow.” Eli snorted. “That sounds really reliable and effective.”

“Tell me about it.” I rolled my eyes. “But wait. Could someone
disguised
like one of the guards have done it?” I motioned to Paul. “Like with one of those shape-change necklaces? Maybe the killer snuck into the cell pretending to be one of the guards and then snuck out again after it was over without the guard ever knowing he was being impersonated. They would pass the guilt test then, yes?”

Paul ran a hand over his hair. “It's another nice theory, but that's exactly the kind of thing the anti-magic protects against. The second you try to walk in there with a glamour on, even one as powerful as a shape-change necklace, the spell will break and set off the alarms.”

“Crap. Why does magic have to make everything more complicated?” Eli rapped his fist on the table. The computer sitting nearby let out a startled beep. Eli pulled his hand away and shoved it into his pocket, making it clear he wouldn't hit anything again. Violence of any kind was a bad idea in room 013. The animated objects didn't take it very well.

“You're right it does,” Paul said. “But if it wasn't a guard, I just can't see somebody else pulling off that killing without magic. The whole ward is restricted, not just the cells themselves. I doubt the killer could've broken in, snuck past all the security, and committed the murder without using magic somewhere along the way.”

“It might've been hard to do,” Eli said, his expression turning stony, “but we can't rule out the possibility that he was killed by ordinary means. Not until we got a hold of the case files and know for sure. Magickind likes to pretend ordinaries can't do anything at all because they're not magical, but that's not true. Someone clever enough, determined enough, could've found a way.”

“Where there's a will,” I said, clinging to the thought. Never mind that “clever” and “determined” described my mother perfectly.

“Hang on a minute,” Selene said. In her excitement, she stood up, but right away Buster wheeled forward, striking her in the back of the knees. She tumbled onto the chair with a grunt. I waited for the spectacle to ensue, but Selene was so focused she just ignored the misbehaving chair completely. “Paul's right that his glamour necklace wouldn't work, but what if the killer is a real shape-changer?”

“That's impossible, babe,” Lance said, giving a little laugh. “There's no such thing. Not anymore.”

Selene scowled at him. I wasn't quite sure if it was because he'd dismissed her idea or that he'd called her “babe.” My vote was on the latter. “You don't know that for sure. Nobody can prove they ever went extinct. It's impossible to prove considering they can
shift their shape
.”

Lance started to argue, but Eli cut him off, raising his hands as well as his voice. “Hold up, you two. What are you talking about?”

Selene tore her gaze off Lance and directed it at Eli. “Shape-changers are, or were, a type of darkkind. They had a reputation for evil—total mayhem and destruction. So much so that their magic was outlawed at the end of the magickind wars. Anyone caught shape-changing was put to death.”

“That's a familiar tale,” I muttered.

“They did outlaw it,” Paul said, “but telling a shape-changer not to shift their shape is like telling a Nightmare not to feed on dreams.”

“But Nightmares would die without dream-feeding,” I said.

“Exactly.”

Selene tapped her toe against the floor. “That was the whole point. Some legends claim all the shape-changers were executed because they refused to stop shifting. Others claim they simply died from magic deprivation.”