I reach for my pillow; grasping it tightly as though those soft downy feathers will serve as some sort of shield, then I peer into the dark space before me, and whisper, "Riley?" Even though I'm pretty sure it's'not her.
I hold my breath, hearing a soft muted sound, like slippers on carpet, over by the french doors, and I surprise myself by whispering, "Damen?" as I peer into the dark, unable to make out anything other than a soft swishing sound.
I fumble for the light switch, squinting against the sudden brightness, and searching for the intruder, so sure I had company, so positive I wasn't alone, that I'm almost disappointed when I find my room empty.
I climb out of bed, still clutching my pillow, as I lock the french doors. Then I peek into my closet and under my bed, like my Dad used to do those long ago nights he reported for boogeyman duty. But not finding anything, I crawl back in bed, wondering if it was possibly my dream that sparked all these fears.
It was similar to the one I had before, where I was running through a dark windswept canyon, my filmy white dress a poor defense against the cold, inviting the wind to lash at my skin, chilling me straight through to my bones. And yet I barely noticed, I was so focused on running, my bare feet carving into the damp, muddy: earth, heading toward a hazy refuge I couldn't quite see.
All I know is that I was running toward a soft glowing light.
And away from Damen.
Twenty-Five
The next day at school, I park in my usual space, jump out of my car, and run right past Damen, heading for Haven who's waiting by the gate. And even though I normally do everything possible to avoid phys
ical contact, I grab onto her shoulders and hug her right to me.
"Okay, okay, I love you too." She laughs, shaking her head and pushing me away. "I mean, jeez, it's not like I was going to stay mad at you guys forever."
Her dyed red hair is dry and limp, her black nail polish is chipped, the hollows under her eyes seem darker than usual, and her face is decidedly pale. But even though she assures me she's okay, I can't help but reach out and hug her again.
"How're you feeling?" I ask, eyeing her carefully, trying to get a read, but other than her aura appearing gray, weak, and translucent, I can't see much of anything.
"What is going on with you?" she says, shaking her head and pushing me away. "What's with all the love and affection? I mean! you of all people, you of the eternal iPod-hoodie combo."
"I heard you were sick, and then when you weren't at school yesterday-" I stop, feeling ridiculous to be hovering like this. But she just laughs. "I know what's going on here." She nods. "This is your fault, isn't it?" She points at Damen. "You just had to come along and thaw out my icy cold friend, turning her into a sentimental, warm, fuzzy sap."
And even though Damen laughs, it doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"It was just the flu," she says as Miles loops his arm through hers and we head past the gate.
"And I guess being all depressed about Evangeline made it that much worse. I mean, I was so feverish, I actually blacked out a few times."
"Seriously?" I break away from Damen so I can walk alongside her.
"Yeah, it was the weirdest thing. Every night I would go to bed wearing one thing, and when I woke up I'd be wearing something entirely different. And when I'd go looking for what I had on before, I couldn't find it. It was like it'd vanished or something."
"Well, your room is pretty messy." Miles laughs. "Or maybe you were hallucinating; you know that can happen when you have a monster fever."
"Maybe." She shrugs. "But all my black scarves were gone, so I had to borrow this one from my brother." She lifts the end of her blue wool scarf and waves it around.
"Was anyone there to take care of you?" Damen asks, coming up beside me and taking my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, sending a flood of warmth through my system.
Haven shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Are you kidding? I may as well be emancipated like you. Besides, I had my door locked the whole time. I could've died in there and nobody would've known."
"What about Drina?" I ask, my stomach clenching at the mention of her name.
Haven gives me a strange look and says, "Drina's in New York. She left Friday night. Anyway, I hope you guys don't get it, because even though some of the dream-state stuff was pretty cool, I know you guys wouldn't be into it." She stops near her class and leans against the wall.
"Did you dream about a canyon?" I ask, dropping Damen's hand, and moving so close I'm right up in her face again.
But Haven just laughs and pushes me away. "Um, excuse me, boundaries!" She shakes her head. "And no, there were no canyons. Just some wild goth stuff, hard to explain, though plenty of blood and gore."
And the second she says that, the second I hear the word "blood," everything goes black as my body tilts toward the floor.
"Ever?" Damen cries, catching me just seconds before I crash to the ground. "Ever," he whispers, his voice tinged with worry.