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Emily (Dreamcatchers Romantic Suspense Series Book 1) Page 6
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9
“No!” Emily shouted sitting upright in her bed. The Monday morning rainy breeze blew in through the open window of her studio apartment and the puddle below the window told her it had been open for at least several hours. A shiver ran through her. When the hell had she fallen asleep? The last thing she remembered from the day before was making a particularly strong coffee and intending to stay up all night. So much for that. Now she was staring at her curtains billowing in the breeze coming through a window she didn’t remember opening.
Bam!
Emily shrieked and then slapped a hand over her mouth. Who the hell was knocking on her door at this time of the morning? The baby next door hadn’t even started up yet. Then she remembered her conversation with Hannah and Luke. She was expecting a visitor. She just hadn’t expected him at 5:30 in the morning.
The knock came again, this time, a whole lot more impatient and she hopped out of bed, grabbing a knife from the kitchen on her way past. Yesterday’s conversation with Luke had reminded her that she could never be too careful, and this would work a hell of a lot better than an umbrella. Hauling on a pair of yoga pants draped over the couch, she wiped the sleep from the corners of her eyes and then opened the door.
"So I’m told you have a murderer after you, and you just fling your door wide open like that?" Those were the first words from the gorgeous lips of the man who crowded her doorway. Though they were framed as a question, they sure as hell came off as more of a reprimand than anything else. She tried to talk, but the light blue eyes that stared back at her stole the words as they formed.
"Emily right?" He asked, stepping across the threshold without waiting for an invitation. "I'm Reece," he said as he turned and smiled at her.
He didn't seem to be bothered by her state of almost complete catatonia. When she finally snapped out of it, he was walking the length of her apartment, sidestepping the water from the rain outside and peering out into the drizzle.
"Yes, I'm Emily," she confirmed when her brain kicked into gear. Her gaze took in his lean but sculpted body leaning out her living room window. He looked like he worked out. No scratch that, he definitely worked out, and it produced quite appealing results. He caught her watching him and smiled again. Emily broke his stare, feeling a light blush rise on her cheeks.
"So Luke said something about dreams you’re having. Can you tell me about them?" That was a question too, but his tone of voice made it sound more like a command. She tried to resent that but found she couldn’t. Despite the extremely early morning wake up call, and the way he pushed himself into her apartment, Emily was comforted by his subtly dominant presence. With him came a feeling of security, and his blue eyes, while piercing, didn’t bore into her. It was almost as if they could see beneath the facade she had become an expert at keeping in place.
For the first time in ages, she felt like someone finally saw her.
"Hey," he said, walking up to her. He reached behind her and gently closed her front door. "Are you OK?"
She nodded and made her way to the kitchen, needing something to keep her hands busy. "Coffee?" He was a little overdressed for 5:30 a.m. in his button down suit and pants. The pants looked tailor-made, and gave the impression of serious confidence, belying the glint in his eyes when he met her stare.
“Coffee would be great, thanks.”
She handed him a cup before taking her own and had to stop herself from jerking when Reece grabbed her elbow, steering her toward her own couch. She moved a pile of books out of the way and sat without speaking a word, raising an eyebrow at him. She watched him take a sip of his coffee and make himself comfortable on the chair next to her before he got to talking.
"So, the dreams,” he began. Emily repeated the story she’d told Luke and Hannah about her first dream, and then the near miss in the alley, the dream of the other woman the next night, and then the killer visiting her apartment. Reece sat beside her, never moving once until she stopped talking. By the time she was done her coffee was cold, and when she went to the sink to empty it out, he walked to the window and stuck his head out again, peering down the alley. His face remained calm, without so much as an eyelid flutter to give her a clue to his thoughts. After a long moment, he spoke.
“OK, Emily. I came because Luke asked me to check in on you, and I trust his judgment, but this is all sounding a little bit too much like hocus pocus to me,” he paused, and put a hand on his hip, looking at her with a furrowed brow. “Have you seen anyone about this?”
Emily felt the tears welling up in her eyes and glared at him instead before they could reach the surface. “What do you mean, have I seen someone about this?”
Reece opened his mouth, only to close it before looking skyward, and then starting to speak again, and Emily knew nothing good was going to come out. “Here’s the thing. I’ve been around the block more than a couple of times and heard all about this kind of story before. It’s either coming from some psychic”—he raised his hands and made air quotes around the word—“who’s really just had too much to drink, too little love as a kid, or is just trying to swindle the reward money out of the bureau.”
Emily dropped her eyes to the floor as heat swept over her face. This was why she hadn’t gone to the cops! “I’m not crazy, or a cheat,” she whispered, more to herself than to the man standing in front of her.
Reece placed a hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t say you were, I just asked if maybe you’d seen anyone about your dreams.” This time, when he spoke his blue eyes flashed, and she wanted nothing more than to slap the smug look right off his face. “I’m not trying to offend you, but these are questions you’ll be asked if you bring this to anyone else. Only they won’t ask so nicely.”
This was nice? Suddenly, she didn’t care if Luke had sent him or not. She didn’t need to be mocked, on top of everything else. “Out.”
His eyebrows raised in surprise. “What?”
“I said get out, and I didn’t stutter,” she raised her eyes and glared at him, raising her arm and pointing at her front door.
Reece shook his head and then walked toward the door. “You know, I’m only trying to help. A little bit of hospitality would get you a long way,” he fired back at her.
“You got coffee. Be glad I’m not following it up with a punch to the head.” She didn’t care if she was technically threatening an FBI agent. The man might be sexy, but he was also a total jerk.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend you. I believe you may really have seen something, but the investigation is all about tangible evidence. You called me, remember.”
“I didn’t, Luke did, remember.” So she was tetchy, so what? He could just deal with it. Emily bet Reece wasn’t surviving on two hours sleep and cold coffee.
Reece stood outside her door, still leaning against the door frame, but straightened up at her comment. “OK, I can see you’ve clearly got this under control. I’ll leave you alone now.”
“When you find the lock of hair he takes from his victims, feel free to give me a call and let me know,” she said while slamming the door shut as hard as she could manage. Before she could shut it in Reece’s face, his foot shot out and blocked it from closing.
His hand pushed back against it, holding the door open. “How do you know about that?”
OK, maybe she hadn’t fully understood when Luke said to tell him everything.
“Like before, I saw him slice it off the woman in my dreams.”
Reece stepped closer to her, and she willed herself to move away from him, but her feet were paying her no attention.
“Maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” he said, smiling at her.
She rolled her eyes. “Or, maybe you’re just a jerk and I’m not crazy.”
“Those a two very strong possibilities,” he confirmed, lifting his hands in surrender when she glared at him again.
Reece paced her floor, sighing before finally sitting down on her couch and gesturing at her to do the same. “Em
ily, let me be very clear here. You dream of yourself being murdered, then it almost happens. Then you dream of another woman dying, and she’s found dead. Lastly, you dream of a man stalking you and you swear you see his face at your window. Now you tell me about a crucial piece of the case that was never released to the public.”
He looked over at her, his gaze sharp.
“Yes, Matlock. That’s what I said.”
Reece stared at her flatly, not the slightest bit amused at her attempt at sarcasm. He sat back in the chair and ran a hand over his face. “You’ve actually managed to convince me that you might be a little bit psychic. Either that or you’re the killer.”
“How did you even get into the academy?”
His mouth dropped open, and then to Emily’s surprise, he chuckled. Damn, he shouldn’t sound so good when he did that.
“Don’t be mean,” he said and moved to sit right beside her. “That you may actually be psychic is uncharted territory for me.”
“You and me both. I’m sure I’m losing my mind, but the things I dream of keep happening, and I just want them to stop.”
“You want to stop dreaming, or you want the murders to stop?” he asked, no doubt drinking in the emotions she could feel written all over her face. Emily was trying hard to mask it, but the look of concern on his face was comforting, despite the fact that the man was as annoying as hell. Reece spoke again. “I’ve been involved in a case for a while now that came to the attention of the bureau. Women keep showing up dead in alleys with a chunk of hair chopped off. I tracked him here to Chicago. If you really are seeing this guy in your dreams, then they saved your life. No one else has ever been that lucky.”
A shiver passed through Emily at his meaning.
“If these dreams truly are about this guy, then I want you involved in the case. We don’t have much, and local law enforcement has even less. You know what this guy looks like, right? That’s more of a lead than we’ve had so far.”
Emily sank into the chair and wrapped her arms around her middle. “Just how many women have there been?”
“At least ten that we know of, probably more across state lines.”
Jesus.
She felt a touch on her arm and saw Reece looking at her with concern again.
“Hey, want to get out of here? Go grab another coffee or something? We kind of let that first one go to waste.” He looked at her and smiled, and she couldn’t help but return it. For right now, at least, he was her knight in shining armor, even if he didn’t stick around. She could, at least, leave her apartment today without feeling like she was about to be brutally murdered if he was with her. Emily sent a quick text to her boss in case she was late to work, grabbed her jacket and they walked out into the light drizzle. She pulled her collar up against the rain and took a deep breath. Ahhh, she needed that. Between being trapped within the same four walls since Friday and Reece’s presence, which was making her mind go places it really shouldn’t with his smile, she definitely needed the fresh air.
“My car is parked over there,” he pointed to the government-issued sedan, but Emily needed to feel the breeze through her hair right now.
“Afraid of a little rain?” she teased and kept walking. He caught up to her side in two long strides. The drizzle was enough to be noticed but light enough to be just droplets on her jacket. As she walked past the alley beside her apartment block, a shiver went down her spine, but with Reece beside her she held her head straight and kept walking. She could really use that cup of coffee, and perhaps also a change of address, but with this man by her side, for now, she’d take what she could get.
He carefully washed his breakfast dishes, taking his time drying them while looking out at the beautiful fall of rain. He loved this weather, and it was one of the reasons he’d moved to Chicago to begin with. The cold, brisk weather almost year round was perfect for his favorite past time. He loved it here.
Taking one look around his home—not a thing out of place—he gave into his darker desires. Walking reverently to the hidden room at the back of his basement, he took off his shoes and slipped inside. This was his private space, his place of worship, his soul, and the one place he felt entirely at ease. But today he felt a little less at home. He lay across the red carpet that covered the center of the room. His only light was the candles and the glow of smoking incense. Over his head, he stared at her, his goddess. Green eyes that pulled him in, and oh my god her scent. He had smelled her when she first approached him, and he would never forget it.
But just like the mist, she had slipped away, leaving nothing behind but the smear of blood on his blade to remember her by. He took it now from the box beside the altar, and pierced the tip of his finger, allowing his own blood to slip down the blade and mingle with hers. He closed his eyes, groaning at the sensations the thought aroused in him. It was more than he could take.
After a long moment his eyes opened, falling on her photo. She’d been completely unaware when he’d taken it, unguarded and oh so beautiful. It sat on the otherwise empty shrine, just waiting for the piece of her that would be resting there alongside it. He kept the others at his second site—the place where he’d performed those final rituals, where he’d joined briefly with their souls. He’d savor that now. She was special.
Yes, this place would be her eternal shrine.
There had been other photos placed around the room, images of his other loves, but they were gone now. He had met her and they had ceased to exist. The other women would never be able to replace his desire for her. He had been forced to take a substitute to satisfy his baser urges, a man had needs after all. But it had worked for only a short time. In the end, there could be no one else for him.
“Soon, my love,’ he whispered, staring at Emily’s photo that hung above his most sacred place, “soon.”
10
The wind picked up as Emily and Reece stepped into her favorite diner, and Cathy and her big mouth was the first to greet her at the door.
“Hey Em!” the bouncy redhead said, walking over and throwing her arms around Emily in a hug before she could even remove her coat. “Why haven’t you returned any of my phone calls?” Cathy asked, her eyes widening as she caught a glimpse of Reece over Emily’s shoulder.
Emily saw the look in Cathy’s eyes and knew what was coming. She tried to head her off with an introduction. “Reece this is Cathy. Cathy this is Reece.”
“Oh, so that’s why you haven’t been answering,” Cathy pretend-slugged her in the arm. “I get a crush and I spill my guts to you, but you’re all holed up with some blue eyed hunk and I don’t even get a courtesy phone call?” Cathy leaned forward, blatantly perusing Reece. “You have to tell me all about him,” she whispered suggestively at Emily.
“Sorry to burst your bubble Cathy, but it’s not like that.”
“Now no need to go being all modest about it. It’s about time you got some action,”—her eyes traveled the length of Reece’s body again—”and you sure started, shall we say…large.” With that Cathy left to take another table’s order, leaving Emily red in the face and Reece grinning widely.
“It’s about time, huh?” he asked her, the devilish glint in his eye taking her mind off the true demons in her life for a moment. Emily chuckled and rolled her eyes. She walked off to sit in her usual seat and leaving Reece standing at the door.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Reece,” Cathy said, coming back to place two giant glasses of fresh squeezed juice in front of them and shooting a mock glare at Emily. “You shouldn’t let her hide you away like that.”
Reece looked at Emily, her entrancing green eyes going cloudy from the embarrassment. “She’s not going to believe you, even if I deny it, is she?” he asked Emily.
“Maybe you should have done that the minute you walked in. You’re not exactly helping.”
Reece looked across the table at Emily, her lips thinning and eyes narrowed as she returned his stare. She was trying very hard to be mad at him, but all it did
was make her look cuter. She was a tiny little thing. In all honestly, he didn’t mind being mistaken for her boyfriend, toy boy, or whatever her friend Cathy clearly thought he was. So far it was going a hell of a lot better than the last time he’d been mistaken for someone’s secret lover. Six months ago a man had walked up to him in the grocery store parking lot and punched him in the face after he’d invited a woman to share his umbrella back to her car when they’d both exited the store in the rain. She’d been alone at the time, but apparently her jerk of a boyfriend hadn’t been far behind. He’d let the man go, he couldn’t have known Reece was a fed after all, but his jaw had ached for a week.
Being mistaken for Emily’s lover on the other hand? She was a tiny ball of weird and probably crazy, but it was nicely packaged.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked him, slurping on her juice. He’d actually wanted to finally drink a cup of coffee, but since Cathy clearly ran the show at the diner, he went along with it.
“I just got mistaken for the secret lover of the crazy chick. What’s there not to be smiling about?” He laughed out loud as a balled up napkin came flying at his head.
“I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t find it so funny,” Emily said.
“Oh but I don’t have one of those. I’ve avoided becoming attached to anyone for a while now,” the minute the words left his mouth he could have slapped himself. He didn’t like the look of surprise that flashed across her face, nor the hardening of her eyes that quickly followed.
“Love ‘em and leave ‘em type then,” she muttered. Reece quickly switched topics to avoid digging himself an even bigger hole.
“So tell me about your family,” he said, and her eyes went dark at the suggestion. OK, keep it up and this hole might be big enough to stand in. He hadn’t really meant his smart ass remark earlier, but had he been right? Were these dreams all stemming from the lack of a loving family?