Emily (Dreamcatchers Romantic Suspense Series Book 1) Page 5

  Oh shit.

  The anticipation she had felt earlier flooded her system, and turned into pure joy, mixing with her own fear in a terrifying jumble. She heard a noise overhead and looked up, only to see herself again, this time leaning over the balcony outside her tiny, cramped apartment. The joy rose to near orgasmic obsession, and Emily saw the white of the man’s teeth as she smiled widely in satisfaction. Another emotion tumbled through her, the joy again, but this time mixed with lust, almost arousal.

  "No, no, no, no!" She screamed at him, but the man didn’t move or even make any movement to acknowledge her presence. Instead, he stepped further into the alley, closer to her balcony.

  It was obvious he was never going to hear her, but maybe she could influence herself? Surely she could make her voice heard to her dream-self? "Go inside!" She yelled up at her balcony, but no response came. Her other self simply continued staring out into the night, her eyes unfocused as if she was lost inside her own head.

  She had to do something! Emily scooped up a broken plank lying on the ground, and stalked up to the man, slamming the wood against the back of his head. The momentum behind the swing nearly tumbled her to the ground as the wood passed right through him. He showed no sign of noticing anything about her presence with him in the alley.

  "Now I've got you love," he whispered, sneering up at the balcony as she watched herself take a swig from a beer bottle before walking back inside.

  The man slid his blade out of its sheath and gazed at it longingly, before returning the knife to its hiding place. He turned, and made easy work of grabbing hold of the fire escape ladder, and stealthily climbed the first few rungs. Just a few steps further and he’d be able to see right into her apartment, into her bedroom. Emily willed herself to move even as the man paused, and then turned and jumped back down to the ground.

  “Soon, sweetheart. I’ll be back for you when you’re sleeping,” the man whispered into the night, before turning swiftly and walking past Emily and out onto the streets. As he swept out of sight the joy she felt collapsed into heartrending fear. The revelation that went along with the sudden emotional change making her retch. Those feelings were not her own, they never had been. She was feeling his emotions. His joy, his anticipation. Oh god, his lust. For her.

  She couldn’t breathe. The muscles in her legs refused to support her, and she fell in a heap as the ground beneath her opened up into a black hole, and she continued to fall. Endlessly.

  Emily bolted up in bed, her fingers grabbing at her shirt as her heart beat rapidly beneath it. This time, it was not cold sweat soaking her, but an icy grip of fear clenching at her heart. Her eyes flew to her bedroom window and fell on a face staring back at her through the darkness. Screaming, she bolted out of bed and sprinted into the living room, grabbing the first thing her hands closed around that she could use as a weapon, brandishing it like a baseball bat. Yep, you fucker. Going to beat you to death with my umbrella. She stood, ready and silent as she heard her clock tick out several long minutes. Nothing happened, no one came at her. “Call the cops,” she whispered to herself in the darkness, “call the cops, Em!” But she couldn’t make herself move anywhere but to the windows. Ducking beneath the window ledge and peeking out, she saw a shadow slip down the fire escape and disappear. Lifting up on her knees, Emily edged the window open a crack, wincing when a screeching sounded out. She was probably the only one who could hear it, but right now every noise sounded like a cannon. Pressing against the window, her ear against the open crack, she heard fast retreating footsteps up the alleyway.

  As outside her apartment grew quiet again, Emily sunk to the floor, still holding the umbrella. Every bone in her body was telling her to pack up and get the hell out, but she couldn’t. If he found her here, then he could find her anywhere. Fuck, he was in her head! She spent the rest of the night sitting in the middle of her living room floor, still clutching her umbrella. Her heart jumped at every sound and thump of the night around her. The breeze blowing an empty aluminum can down the alley gave her a mini heart attack. The dog that barked at every shadow sent her blood pressure through the roof, and late-night revelers passing her door on their way to the stairs nearly sent her scurrying under the bed. Daylight couldn’t come fast enough, and by the time the first rays of morning light breached her open window, Emily was convinced it was only a matter of time before the shadow man returned.

  She was so not going to die. Not tonight.

  8

  Emily had never been as happy to hear the six a.m. screams of the child across the hall as she was that morning. Most weekends the kid drove her nuts, like clockwork he woke Emily at the same hour every day of the week, usually before her alarm could go off. She had the feeling the parents didn’t bother with alarm clocks, they really didn’t need to. Any other day she’d burrow her head under her pillow and try and block out the noise, but today she wanted to kiss the tiny human and pay it to scream all day. If the kid kept screaming, she wouldn’t sleep, and then she wouldn’t dream. I wonder how long it takes for someone to die if they never sleep? Right now just about anything sounded better than sleeping again.

  It was Sunday, and Emily was more than happy that work was not on the agenda again today. Normally she’d still be in bed, sleeping in as long as the screamer across the hall let her. Then she’d do some research on schools she was thinking of applying to, perhaps head out in the afternoon to a park or something. Today, she had neither the energy or desire to leave her apartment. Last night’s dream flashed through her mind, and the emotions were still so vivid she could almost taste them. The sensation almost made her gag. She had been feeling him! Feeling every thrill, every erotic shiver the man felt as he stalked her. The man that was coming back—no, had come back—for her. Maybe she should have just let him kill her the first time.

  Groaning in frustration, Emily pushed to her feet and walked into her bedroom, pulling her blinds closed. Her energy zapped, she flopped onto the bed. If she couldn’t sleep, maybe she could at least rest. Closing her eyes, she tried to think of unicorns, cotton candy, cupid—anything to keep her darker thoughts away. She sighed at the thought of Cupid, of love. Strong arms wrapped around her would be very welcome right now. The hours passed, Emily lying spread eagle on the bed, alternating between giving her tired, scratchy eyes a break and trying to make out shapes in the lines and watermarks on her ceiling. The solitude and peace she cherished now cost a huge price. She was still alone and had no one close enough that she could ask to stay with tonight. No one she could ask to help protect her from her own dreams. Protect …her thoughts drifted back to Hannah and her boyfriend, Luke. Hannah was probably the only person she knew that would actually believe what was happening to her, and Luke was in law enforcement, a U.S. Marshal. He could help protect her, couldn’t he? Emily rubbed her now burning eyes. She wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of leaving everything behind and moving again. She hadn’t started over again in Chicago just to run from everything a second time, but something had to give.

  Going back to her junk of a computer, she grabbed another beer from the refrigerator while it booted up. She was definitely drinking this one inside. Bringing the bottle to her lips, she drunk nearly half in one go. Yep, in addition to losing her mind, she was apparently now well on her way to becoming an alcoholic. She had to do something other than sit in her apartment and wait for death to find her again. Pushing that depressing thought out of her mind, Emily sat at the computer and tried again to find Hannah’s contact information. It was kind of amazing that for a bestselling author, getting a direct line to Hannah was harder than trying to find a way to sneak into the White House. She tried looking through her publisher’s website, but that only turned up a bunch of fan pages, some of them bordering on the kind of obsession Emily had experienced last night. She closed those browser windows quickly. She was just short of giving up when she tried searching for Hannah’s book title in a popular online forum. There! She found five possible cell phone numbe
rs and an email address. She fired off a message to each one, and then sat back and waited. She took another sip of her beer. Fuck it, it’s needed right now. What if Hannah thought she was just another crazy fan? A few minutes later, her phone pinged. Three of the cell phone numbers had replied. Emily scrolled through the messages but was quickly disappointed. Hannah wouldn’t suggest they hook up for a good time in New Orleans or tell her that the next five minutes would cost $50. She blocked the numbers, slumping in her chair. Twenty minutes later she’d just about given up when an email slid into her inbox.

  Hi, Emily! It’s nice to hear from you. How is it going?

  After the cell phone replies, Emily was skeptical. She quickly replied.

  Hey, I’ve found a lot of crazies online while trying to find you, so forgive the question, but where did we first meet for drinks?

  The response came through almost immediately.

  At the Baron, when Marina dragged me along one night. Meeting up with you saved me from having to hear about Harold’s latest indiscretion.

  Emily’s relief was so immense she nearly dropped her beer. Despite the reasons she had looked for Hannah in the first place, just exchanging messages with a friend from her past made her feel lighter than she had in days. Not wanting to scare Hannah off, Emily avoided diving right in and instead sent back a message reminiscing about the good old days. Well, perhaps just the past. Soon after they’d bumped into each other at the bar and formed a friendship, Hannah had ended up on the run for her life. Emily had had no idea what her new friend was going through. She was trying to deal with her mother, who she was sure was the devil’s best friend. She did love her mom, but it was better that she loved her from a distance. Then, Hannah’s story had ended up being a modern day fairytale, while she had skipped town voluntarily and instead landed in a nightmare.

  I think I’m in trouble Hannah, and I have no idea who to talk to and who would believe me.

  Emily clicked send and then held her breath, half expecting to never hear from Hannah again. No return email arrived, but moments later her cell phone rang.

  “Hey,” Hannah said, the concern clear in her voice. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  Emily had practiced her explanation over and over in her head, trying to think of ways to ask for help without revealing the insane dreams. Now that it was crunch time all she could think of was how stupid she was going to sound.

  “Emily? Are you there?”

  She had to just go with it. At the end of the day, she had reached out to Hannah because Emily had thought she might understand. She was out of other ideas and any other choices.

  “You've got to promise you won’t think I’m crazy.”

  Hannah chuckled in response.

  “Trust me, I’m the last person who would ever call you that. My own recent experiences taught me a thing or two about what’s really crazy.”

  Emily took a deep breath. “I’ve been having these dreams…” she trailed off, not sure how to continue. She got up from her table and paced across the room, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling before slamming her palm across her forehead. Those words had sounded so much better in her head.

  “Dreams?” Hannah asked.

  “You know what,” she sighed, “Forget it, it’s nothing,” she couldn’t do this. She’d just have to figure something out on her own.

  “No Emily,” Hannah responded. “Tell me about your dreams.”

  “I can hear it in your voice, you’re already starting to wonder about the crazy.”

  “Well,” Hannah responded with a giggle, “that all depends on what you’re dreaming about. Any hot guys in there? But I have built my life on crazy, so hit me with it. I promise I will hear you out.”

  That was exactly what Emily was worried about, people hearing her out but not believing a single word she was saying.

  “Emily, talk to me,” Hannah urged again, and Emily could hear the warming sincerity in her voice. She went against all her instincts and started talking before she could stop herself.

  “OK,” she took a deep breath and a mouthful of her now warm beer. “I’ve been dreaming about a man hiding in an alley that murders women. First it was me and then he killed another woman.”

  “Wait,” Hannah stopped her, and Emily almost bit her tongue off in anxiety for the couple seconds it too Hannah to speak again. “A man in an alley, are you sure?”

  Emily wasn’t so sure what Hannah wanted her to say. Maybe she was just humoring the crazy lady, but the urgency in that question spoke of something else.

  “Yes, he had a blade with ancient rune looking things on it and he kills women. Here in Chicago.”

  She heard shuffling on the other end of the phone then muffled talking before Hannah spoke again. “Emily, do you mind if Luke joins this conversation?”

  Emily paused for a second. It was nerve wracking enough saying this out loud to someone she knew, let alone a stranger. But, if Hannah trusted him, she would as well. “OK,” she spoke barely above a whisper and hoped Hannah could hear her.

  “Hello Emily,” a deep male voice came on the phone. Emily almost blushed from the intensity of his voice. So this was Hannah’s knight in shining armor. “This is Luke, nice to telephone meet you,” he said, and she could hear the background noises getting louder. She had been placed on speaker phone.

  “Umm, hi.”

  “So those dreams you've been having. When did they start?” Luke asked her.

  “About a week now?”

  There was a brief shuffling in the background, and then Luke spoke again, though not directly into the phone. “Right around the time Reece said they tracked the killer to Chicago.”

  “What?” Emily blurted out. “So you believe me?”

  “I believe you dreamed what you said you did. I don’t believe in premonitions or visions and stuff, but Hannah vows for your sanity and so I’m listening. Neither of us would be here today if a good friend hadn’t believed in me and helped Hannah and me when it mattered most.”

  Hannah spoke up again. “Tell us about the murders.”

  “Well the first was my own murder,” Emily began, and her body went cold with the memory of the knife slicing through her skin.

  “But you’re OK?” Hannah asked her.

  “Yes, well I think so,” Emily sighed before continuing. “I dreamed I was walking into an alleyway to help someone who was calling out for help, and then a man attacked me and slit my throat. I woke up drenched in cold sweat, but alive. The whole thing was totally bizarre and I didn’t pay much attention after a crazy work day. But then the next day I was walking home, heard the call for help from an alleyway, and went to help. I couldn’t leave someone who was really hurt lying there because of a stupid dream,” Emily paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Only he wasn’t hurt. When I got close to him, I saw a knife blade glinting in the moonlight and got the hell out of there. He managed to cut my shoulder as a ran, but that was all.”

  “Oh my God!” Hannah exclaimed, and Emily felt relieved. Hannah’s voice was filled only with concern, there was no disbelief there.

  “Please be careful, Emily. Don’t go anywhere alone.” Luke said. “Some victims who escape become obsessions to their attackers. This man may try to track you down.”

  “Umm, he might have already managed that.”

  “Emily!” Hannah said. “You have to go to the police.”

  “And say what? I dreamed of my own murder and then it nearly happened. But not to worry, now the man knows where I live so you can come over here and catch him?”

  “Good point,” Luke said grimly. “Most regular law enforcement aren’t the most open-minded people you’ll ever meet.”

  “And you are?” Hannah said to him.

  There was a deafening pause before Luke answered. “No. Like I said I don’t believe in premonitions. But trust me, when you work for the Feds long enough you begin to realize a lot of the stuff civilians think is crazy can be more real than you ever know.”


  Emily was oddly comforted by that. “My own murder wasn’t all I saw.”

  Hannah jumped at that. “Tell us,” she said.

  “Well, if you watched the news yesterday you may have seen a report of another woman killed in an alleyway in Chicago.”

  “Yep, I heard,” Luke said.

  “I saw that the night before, Luke. I saw it all happen and I tried to stop it in the dream, but it was like I wasn’t even there,” Emily felt tears well in the corner of her eyes, and her voice shook a little.

  “What do you mean you tried to stop it?” he asked.

  “In the dream, I tried to tell her not to go into the alley, but she went anyway and I couldn’t stop him from killing her. He cut a lock of her hair and then left her body just lying there. I saw her face in my dream, and then the same face on the news the next day.”

  Emily heard a gasp on the other end of the line, and then Luke’s quiet muttering as Hannah spoke again, quieter this time. “Have you had any other dreams, Emily?”

  What the hell was going on? “Just the one. Last night I dreamed of him visiting in my apartment, except I was him in the dream. I woke up and I swear there was someone looking in from the fire escape. I didn’t close my eyes after that.”

  “OK Emily,” Luke said, “I want you to talk to my friend Reece Knight. He’s an FBI agent at the Chicago field office.”

  “Does he believe in premonitions?” she asked.

  Luke chuckled. “Let's just say he's not your average agent, and you’ll get more help from him than I can give you from here. Just make sure you tell him everything you told me. All of it.”

  “OK. What do I do next?”

  “Give me your address,” Luke said, “and he’ll be in touch.”

  “Emily,” Hannah added, “You call back immediately if anything else happens. I don’t care what time it is.”

  Emily agreed and thanked them both, hanging up the phone. She’d keep her promise. If she had any other dreams, God forbid, she’d need to hear a friendly voice. For now, she was just hoping Luke’s promise of help would be enough for her to be able to sleep undisturbed that night.