He wasn’t sure where he was. Nothing looked familiar, at least what he could see. The darkness was illuminated only by the flashlight’s golden beam, cutting the inky darkness. Somehow, he didn’t think he was in California anymore.
What was he doing here? The hardwood floors beneath his feet were solid, and when he took a closer look, appeared to be inlaid with a fleur-de-lis pattern of lighter and darker woods. The massive foyer opened to a grand staircase, though time hadn’t been kind.
In fact, the whole place had a musty, unused quality, as if it had been long abandoned. Large columns bracketed the rooms to his right, and what furniture the room contained was covered with white cloths. It reminded him of the formal parlors of some of the southern antebellum mansions around New Orleans.
Was he in New Orleans? The last thing he remembered was going to sleep in San Diego, thinking about Savannah. And that bastard Aristides.
A cold wind sliced through him, nearly strong enough to rip the flashlight from his hand. It flickered, and he slapped it against his palm a couple of times, until it stayed on.
Why did this place look so familiar? He’d seen it before, somewhere. It seemed important that he needed to remember where.
A soft moan echoed through the space, and he waved the flashlight around, trying to find the source. It sounded like a woman in pain, hauntingly familiar and he prayed he was wrong.
“Help me…” The words were a whisper inside his mind. He knew the voice, recognized it on a gut deep level. Savannah.
He wanted to yell out, ask where she was, but his vocal cords were frozen. No matter how hard he tried, no sound emerged. Cobwebs lined the room, highlighted in the flashlight’s glow like whispery threads, swaying in the darkness.
Wait—swaying? They shouldn’t be moving at all, unless there was air causing them to shift and sway. He walked around the large settee; its white covering coated with a thick layer of dust.
There it was again—faint and almost indistinguishable—yet definitely Savannah’s voice. She was here! Somewhere in this eerie blackness, he’d find her.
“Have you found the key yet?” At the sound of Ranger’s voice behind him, he almost peed his pants. Where the hell had he come from?
“I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”
“There’s only one way in. You need to find the key to save Anna.”
“Savannah was safe the last time I saw her a few hours ago. You know I don’t believe in this woo-woo stuff. This is driving me bonkers. Tell me this is one of your crazy dreams, Ranger.”
In the flashlight’s glow, he saw Ranger shake his head. “Not my dream—yours. You pulled me in. All I can tell you is you need to find the key to save Anna, or she’ll be lost to you forever.”
“Is it Aristides? Does he have Savannah?”
“I don’t know. This dream doesn’t feel right somehow. Like it hasn’t happened yet. Find the way to keep Anna safe and keep this from happening.”
With those words, Ranger disappeared, and Stefan bolted upright in the bed in his hotel room, dripping sweat. Blowing out a breath, he switched on the lamp on the nightstand and scrubbed his hand across his face. It came away wet, with a smudge of dust.
Fumbling on the nightstand, he grabbed his phone and dialed.
“Hey, Stefan.”
“What the hell, man?”
Ranger chuckled, though it sounded weary. “You tell me. It was your dream, I got sucked into it somehow. Trust me, that doesn’t happen often, as in never.”
Stefan pulled the phone from his ear and glared at it, wishing he could see Ranger’s face. He’d found out about Ranger’s special ability or gift with prophetic dreams after Savannah had been rescued. Up until then, nobody knew, because he’d kept it to himself.
“Can you make heads or tails of what you saw? I heard Savannah calling out for help.”
There was a long pause, and he heard Sarah’s sleepy-sounding voice in the distance asking who was on the phone.
“Your dreams and mine aren’t the same, bro. It might just have been an intense dream and doesn’t mean a thing.”
Stefan heard the unspoken but I don’t think so beneath Ranger’s words. “I don’t dream. Ever. At least not any that I remember. This was…more. I can’t describe it, but it’s got me scared for Savannah.”
“Maybe that’s what your dream is telling you. To keep a closer eye on her, because Aristides or one of his goons is up to something. I know the boss has been checking into Aristides, trying to pin down where he’s hiding, but I’m going to ask Gator to start checking around, asking his people if they’ve heard anything.”
Might be a good idea. If anybody can find hide nor hair of Stavros Aristides, it’d be Gator Boudreau.
“Thanks. Appreciate it. And for future reference—stay outta my head.”
Ranger laughed, and it made Stefan smile. “Next time, don’t yank me in there. Oh, one other thing. Did you recognize where you were in the dream?”
“No. I was thinking while I was in the dream that it looked familiar, like one of those old rundown antebellum places that are sitting empty outside the city, but I couldn’t tell which one.”
“Felt like that to me too. I’ll do some checking, see if I can recognize anything to give us a clue where it might be. Not sure how important it is, but the more info we’ve got, the better.”
“Thanks.” He started to say goodbye, but Ranger interrupted.
“One other thing. Don’t hurt Anna. She’s fragile.”
He bristled at the other man’s comment. “I’d never do anything to hurt Savannah. I…care about her.”
The pause following his words went on so long, he thought maybe the connection had been lost. Finally, Ranger spoke. “Bro, I know you’ve got feelings for her. But I watched your face in the hospital, and since then, every time her name is mentioned. You’re halfway in love with her, and if you’re not careful, you’ll find yourself head over heels. Not a bad thing, because she’s a very loveable woman.”
As much as he wanted to deny Ranger’s words, he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure what he felt for Savannah, but it was strong, and intense, and deeper than anything he’d ever felt before. “All I can promise is I won’t hurt her.”
“I’ll hold you to that. Call me if you need anything.” With that, Ranger hung up, and Stefan tossed the phone back onto the nightstand. Tossing off the threadbare blanket, he reached for his computer. Might as well get some work done, since he wasn’t going to get any more sleep tonight.
Aristides better find a deep hole and bury himself, because Stefan vowed to find him, and make sure he’d never hurt Savannah again—ever.