“Sleep demon?” I look behind me at Ethan and then back at Sam. “It um…um…has gotten to me when I’m not sleeping too.”
Sam pulls out a barstool and sits next to me. “Go on.”
I let my eyes fall shut, remembering the sound of books being dropped. “I’ve heard things. Things that don’t make sense at all. And then I was driving into the next town over to meet Rene for dinner and I ended up at a graveyard. With no memory of how I got there.”
“You’re under a lot of stress,” Ethan insists. “You drive on autopilot all the time.”
“When I lived in New York. I’d drive to work or the barn. But here…nothing is familiar. I don’t have an auto-place to go other than home.”
“When did this start?” Yuma asks.
“Not that long ago.” I look at Ethan. “The night you and Hunter went on the hunt was the first time something weird happened.”
“It’s not a ghost?” Sam’s blue eyes cloud with worry.
“No. I’d know if it was. There are no spirits in the house.”
“Okay,” she says, going into professional hunter mode. “Let’s retrace your steps. You said Ethan and Hunter left?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “They were called away by the Order. I went into Paradise Valley shortly after and ran some errands. Then I went home and spent a good chunk of time in the barn. I went inside, showered, made soup, and sat down to watch TV and that’s when I, um, heard noises.”
“Describe the noises,” Yuma tells me.
“It sounded like books being dropped on the floor. And then I heard someone running around upstairs, and I know there was something on the porch.” My heart speeds up as I think about it. Letting my eyes fall shut, I bring the memory to the surface. “I was sitting on the couch when it started. I know I put my soup down and got up to investigate. Nothing made sense, and then I woke up back on the couch. But my soup was cold.”
“Because you fell asleep and had a nightmare.” Ethan slowly shakes his head. “It was the first time in months you had to spend a night alone. It’s not out of the question to think you’d be freaked out.”
“I wasn’t freaked out before then.” I spin my coffee mug on the counter in front of me. “Don’t get me wrong, I missed you guys, but I was also appreciative of a quiet night to myself.”
“And your imagination got the best of you,” Ethan goes on.
“Are you not listening?” Sam throws out her hands. “She said it wasn’t a dream.”
Brows furrowing, Ethan looks at me, and I can see the concern in his amber eyes. “It has to be. Anora already cast a spell to repel spirits, put a new protective circle around the house, and made a charm to break a curse in case that was what’s going on. We’ve covered all our bases.”
“The errands you ran,” Yuma starts. “What and where?”
“Um,” I think back. “I went into Paradise Valley to get my hair trimmed, then I went grocery shopping, and stopped at the feed store on the way back. Nothing notable happened then.”
“But you got your hair cut.” Yuma turns to Sam.
“You think someone made a voodoo doll?” I gasp.
“What’s happening aren’t typical voodoo doll things,” Sam notes. She gets two mugs down and fills them both with coffee. “If someone had your hair, it could explain things.”
“I saw the stylist sweep it up and put it in the garbage.” I put my head in my hands and take a deep breath. My whole body is tired, more so than from just running on little sleep. Maybe I’m coming down with something?
“I appreciate your thoroughness, but she’s fine.” Ethan takes a big drink of his coffee and heavily sets the mug on the counter. “I need to go to the gym.” He all but storms up the stairs, leaving me a little taken aback. We fell hard and fast for each other, but I have realistic expectations. We have disagreements of course, though over all we’re good at resolving conflict before it turns into something bigger.
“He’s being an asshole because he cares,” Sam joins me at the island. “And because he cares, he’s scared and is going into denial-mode. Not sure if you noticed, but everyone in the fam is a little fucked up when it comes to opening up and letting someone in.” She brings her coffee to her lips and blows on it. “I know he loves you.” She doesn’t look at me when she says it, still struggling with letting me in like she just said.
“I kinda assumed that,” I tell her. “And thanks for sticking up for me.” I spin my coffee mug around on the counter. “I wish these were dreams.”
“Do you remember the stylist’s name who cut your hair?” Yuma has her phone out.