Chapter Thirty-One

Dillan

Little Ghost of Mine

It took everything Dillan had to leave Selena that afternoon. Kissing her…he couldn’t compare it to anything he’d ever experienced in his life. Forget the shocks. If sitting on an electric chair had a mind-blowing counterpart, sign him up. He never knew a million volts felt so good. If it weren’t for the case and her grandparents coming home, he would have stayed with her all night. Unfortunately, the second he left the farmhouse, everything quickly spiraled into a dark pit of frustration.

He stumbled into his room after investigating with Sebastian, bone-tired of all the dead ends. He was no closer in finding the Manticore than when his partner discovered the first carcass. The tracks they’d previously found hadn’t helped at all besides identify what they were dealing with. The sheer expanse of the prairies was a clear disadvantage. It seemed like he and the hellhound were just running in circles.

Feeling useless for only the second time in his life, he toed off his boots and fell into bed face first. He groaned into his pillow. Screw a shower. He could do it tomorrow.

Sebastian had no leads on the Maestro either. The conjurer bastard hid himself well. After what happened at the field trip, he couldn’t let his guard down for a second. He left investigating Penny to Kyle since he knew the girl better than he did. Without a shadow of a doubt Selena was the target. He hated to be right, especially after that kiss. A danger level this high usually meant a higher class of Illumenari took over. Hell if he’d let Rainer take over now. He’d protect Selena if it killed him.

His head hurt, most likely an aftereffect of nearly draining his powers to heal himself. He took a deep breath, deciding to let go of his current feelings of failure. He needed rest. With each exhalation, he let his body relax. No point in answering all the questions tonight. Like he’d been trained, he let himself slip into the darkness.

…

When he opened his eyes, Dillan found himself on a chair in the middle of a dark room. He craned his neck every which way. A light came from somewhere because his chest, arms, and legs were visible. He tried to stand, but an unseen force tugged him back to the chair.

Keeping his breathing even, he focused on the footsteps coming from his right.

You have someone else now.

He froze. A cold sweat rolled down his spine. He knew that voice…too well. He couldn’t mistake it for anyone else. Shit. He swallowed and forced himself to answer as calmly as his rapidly beating heart would allow.

“What do you care?”

She stepped out of the darkness in front of him, wearing a white dress to her knees. She stopped a couple of steps away and hid her hands behind her back. Anxiety churned the acid in his stomach at the sight of her. In the back of his mind, he knew she came to finish what she’d started. Haunting him wasn’t enough for her anymore. But his feelings had changed. He no longer wanted to give her his life for his mistakes.

He pinched his thigh hard. Pain shot up his leg, but nothing happened. He didn’t wake up like he expected. He shut his eyes then opened them again. She didn’t disappear like before. Not a ghost. Something else. Something probably worse.

She shook her head. You’re not going anywhere.

“What do you want?”

Is that how you treat me now? She frowned, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Before, you couldn’t wait for me to end it. She disappeared then reappeared straddling his lap. Her freezing fingers wrapped around his neck. He hissed. His skin burned beneath her touch. She giggled.

“You’re not real,” he said, more for himself.

She froze. Tears flooded her eyes. He bit his tongue to stifle the urge to comfort her. She was gone, taken from him. From the Illumenari, he corrected himself. He couldn’t help her anymore and suffered the consequences. He had someone else to protect now. Someone he promised himself not to fail.

Like she’d read his thoughts, she teleported to stand in front of him. She swiped at the fallen tears. She always acted younger than she was. It annoyed him half the time. She snapped her fingers and a screen he hadn’t seen before played a movie in black and white behind her. At first, he didn’t understand what was happening until he recognized Hero’s Square. Its large column centerpiece stretched up to the night sky. Several statues flanked it on both sides.

His eyes widened. “Budapest.”

She nodded. You left me there.

“No!” He struggled against the invisible ropes holding him down. “Dammit! Let me go.”

You were supposed to stop them.

The truth of it hit him hard. Dejection wrapped around him like a straightjacket. He bowed his head. He didn’t need to watch to know what happened next. In the movie, he ran into a small alley between two shops. She stood at the end of it surrounded by screeching banshees. He fought them off and pulled her to him, but they were trapped. There was too many of the horrid creatures. He’d been clawed badly, bleeding from so many wounds he could barely stand. She begged him to end it. To do what he must to keep them from capturing her. His training told him what he had to do, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Yes, she said. You were supposed to keep me away from them. But you didn’t. You let them take me.

The disappointment in her voice broke him. “I’m sorry.”

You were supposed to keep me away from them.

She repeated the sentence over and over again. He bit his tongue until blood seeped out of the side of his lips and ran down his chin. The metallic taste made him gag. Despite the pain, he didn’t wake up. She deliberately kept him there to watch his failure.

Someone, somewhere screamed his name. He wanted to call out, to reach for whoever summoned him, but his throat refused to work. He swallowed the blood flooding his mouth and tried again.

The voice asked him to wake up.

“I’m trying, dammit!” he said.

Her eyes darted from place to place, like she searched for the voice, too. Then she laughed. He’d never heard her sound like that. More a cackle than a laugh. She doubled over and hugged herself. When she straightened, her face froze in an ugly mask. He barely recognized her.

He didn’t scare easily, but her next words made his blood run cold.

…

Finally, Dillan opened his eyes and gasped. He rolled to his side and coughed. Blood splattered on his pillow. More coughs shook his body. A pulse of pain emanated from his side.

“Dillan!”

He flopped flat on his back, clutching his side. Sweat dotting his brow, he closed his eyes and breathed away the pain. “Calm down, Rainer. I’m not deaf.”

The side of his bed depressed. “You were screaming her name.”

His uncle’s words forced his eyes open. The light in his room seemed too bright, making him squint. His eyes burned, but he focused on his uncle sitting there in his gray T-shirt and pajama bottoms.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled. He hated the worry in Rainer’s eyes.

“It’s not nothing.” His uncle pointed at where he clutched his side.

He tried to sit up. Sadly, the pain wouldn’t let him, so he settled on his elbows. He looked down as far as he could. A red stain spread across his shirt. Rainer pushed his hand away and examined the wound. It caused the blood to spill over to the blue sheets, staining it brown. He must have nicked something major.

“You stabbed yourself.”

“Duh, Sherlock.” He closed his hand around the hilt of his sword, unsure how he accomplished it. Everything he tried to wake himself up from the dream hadn’t worked.

“Don’t be cute with me.” His uncle glared, flicking Dillan’s ear.

“Ah, a little help—”

The Boogeyman spread his hand over the wound. It healed instantly in a rain of blue sparks. He fell back on the bed and drank air like water on a hot day then returned his sword to its inert form before it cut another body part.

“Why did you stab yourself?”

He bit back the real answer. “I don’t know.”

Rainer crossed his arms. “Tell me everything.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Dillan!”

He didn’t flinch at the bark. Staring at the ceiling, he said, “I rolled in at about three and went to sleep. The next thing I know, you’re shaking me awake.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Rainer study the room. “The wards are holding and your window is shut. No sign of forced entry anywhere. And I don’t feel anyone else but you in this house.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but your safeguards don’t always work.” He realized his mistake the second the Boogeyman’s eyes settled back on his. He closed his hand around Dillan’s shirt and pulled him up. He didn’t struggle, knowing it was futile against a Legacy. As an added safety precaution, he kept his hands at his sides.

“What aren’t you telling me, boy?” Rainer asked in a deadly whisper.

“What? You’re allowed your secrets and I’m not?”

He shook him. “Not when your life is clearly in danger.”

To avoid answering his unasked question, he shifted the topic. “What about when Selena’s life is in danger?”

Rainer opened his fist and let him fall back down on the bed. He stood up and moved to the bookshelf. He rubbed his forehead, his eyes closed.

“Besides the attack at Mt. Rushmore and the puppets at Valley View, has anything else happened?” he asked after dropping his hand.

Dillan sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “What’s going on here, Rainer? The attacks are clearly escalating. This isn’t good. I need to know…hell, Selena needs to know.”

They watched each other for the longest time. No one moved. They barely even breathed. Dillan knew Rainer couldn’t hide things for much longer. The truth rose to the surface no matter how deep it was buried.

“Then bring her here,” his uncle finally said.