Chapter Eighteen
Later, after Derek walked her back to her cabin in an uncomfortable silence, Kylie decided to go to bed early. She'd only been in bed a few hours when she felt herself having a dream. She knew it had to be a dream from the moment she became aware of the floating sensation. She rolled over and tried to force herself awake, but then she saw . . . Him.
Again.
Lucas.
He looked at her and smiled. His bright blue eyes looked heavy, sleepy. She realized that she was no longer above him, but stood beside him. He wore jeans and a light blue button-down shirt that wasn't buttoned. Her gaze went to his chest and then up again. All the way up, away from his open shirt. His black hair looked mussed, as if he'd just gotten out of bed himself, and the dark strands appeared to be a tad longer. It even had a bit of waviness to it.
"You came," he said.
"Came where?" she asked, feeling out of her comfort zone.
He didn't answer her, instead he said, "Come on, let's go for walk. " He held out his hand as if wanting her to take it.
She hesitated. The idea of touching him tempted her, but she remembered she was angry at him, although she couldn't quite recall why. "I don't bite. " He smiled again.
It was just a dream, she told herself, and slipped her hand into his, forgetting about the hint of anger she felt inside. His palm felt so warm against hers that it made her giddy.
"I missed you," he said.
She didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything. Or at least not about missing him. But she had, she knew she had.
"Where are we going?" she asked when he started walking.
He stopped. "Where would you like to go?"
All of a sudden, Kylie realized they were standing in a patch of woods; large trees with sweet-smelling flowers hung overhead.
"Paris? The mall?" He looked around as if just noticing the scenery. "Or would you like to go back to the lake, like in the last dream?" His voice grew deeper, huskier. "Is that where we're going?"
Blood rushed to her face. How did he know about that dream? Then she remembered this was just a dream. Nothing had to make sense. Right? Yet this dream seemed even stranger. Different.
He laced his fingers through hers. "We could go anywhere, as long as I'm with you. " His irises appeared to darken and his eyelids looked heavier.
She recognized the emotion. Desire. Hunger. Passion. She'd seen it in his eyes the day they'd kissed at the creek by the dinosaur footprints. But that wasn't the first time she'd seen that look. She'd seen it first in her dream. The dream of them swimming-of him touching her.
"We can even do anything . . . because. . . "-he moved in closer-"because this is just a dream. It's not real. Just like the first one. But it's your choice. You're the one in the driver's seat. "
His head dipped down an inch, and his face felt lightly scratchy against hers. Then his lips brushed across her cheeks until he found her lips. She let him kiss her. At first, she didn't respond. At least not until his tongue slipped between her lips.
Unable to think of anything else, she gave in and started kissing him back. It was hot. It was wonderful. It was just a dream. His hands were on her back, and then shifted to her front. Her breasts felt swollen when he brushed his palm across them.
Then . . . she remembered Derek. Strong, kind, beautiful Derek. And then she remembered Fredericka. Yeah, that was why she was mad at Lucas.
She jerked back. She was breathing hard. He was breathing hard, too. She started floating away.
"Don't go, Kylie," he said. "Come back. Please. "
Kylie suddenly became fully awake. She jackknifed into a sitting position.
Her heart raced as if she'd run a marathon. Her palms felt sweaty. Her body tingled in front. It tingled darn near everywhere. Socks, still in skunk form, meowed from the foot of the bed. "Weird dream," she said aloud, and it felt good to hear her own voice.
"A very weird dream. "
Then she remembered Lucas's letter. His first letter.
Dream of me, he'd signed it.
Was it a coincidence?
Crazy possibilities started forming in her head. What if. . . ? What if werewolves had the power to get inside one's dreams? What if these weren't just dreams, but something more? Did that kind of power even exist?
The more she thought about it, the more she started to believe it, and the angrier she got. How dare he just come into her dreams and . . . kiss her. Touch her. Wasn't Fredericka enough for him? Did the she-wolf know Lucas was skipping out on her to come visit Kylie in her dreams? So many questions and no answers. She realized one place she could look for answers.
Turning on the light, she yanked open the drawer and pulled out his letter. She'd already unsealed it and it slipped from the envelope easily enough. She blinked to adjust her eyes.
Hi Kylie, Another letter from me. For all I know I'm the last person in the world you want to hear from. But it doesn't stop me from writing you. Or from thinking about you. But damn, I think about you all the time-wonder if you have discovered what you are and the many talents that you have.
I've spoken to Burnett and when I asked about you, he only said you were fine. I think he knew I wanted details but for some reason, he wasn't willing to give them. It makes me wonder what you're doing that Burnett won't share. I don't want to think about it too much, because I'll start worrying.
You could say that I feel very possessive of you. I'm not saying it's right, but I did meet you first.
Do you remember when we met? You were in your front yard, lying on the ground, staring up at the sky. When I came over, you didn't even say hello. You looked at me with your big, curious eyes and asked if I saw the elephant. At first I thought you were crazy, but then you pointed to the clouds.
Kylie stopped reading as the tiny piece of memory started floating around her head. She did . . . remember. Taking a deep breath, she went back to reading.
I remember I told you I didn't see the elephant in the clouds. But I did.
I don't know why I lied, probably because you made me nervous. I could see you weren't human, but I couldn't tell what you were and it seemed strange. Not really a bad strange. You were just like a puzzle I wanted to figure out. Ha! It's been ten years, and here I'm still trying to figure you out. Part of me wonders if it's because you are a female, girls are always a mystery, or if you are really that big of a puzzle.
Anyway, I hope you'll think this is good news, but I may be able to come back to the camp. I've spoken with Burnett about it and he said he has to get clearance from a couple other people and if they say it's okay, I'll be back. Hopefully, I'll be able to explain more then.
Okay, I hope to see you soon, but until then . . . dream of me.
Your admirer and friend forever, Lucas Kylie dropped the letter and just stared at those three words. Dream of me.
Exactly what did he mean by "dream of me"?
Did it mean anything? It had to, didn't it? Kylie folded the letter and stuffed it back in her drawer. Her emotions ran all over the place.
Then she realized a second place she could look for answers. The place she always went for answers. Holiday.
Kylie looked at the red glowing numbers on her clock. Still too early. It wasn't quite . . . five.
But what happened to the regular cold that always came at dawn? She looked at the window and saw the vaguest sign of sunrise. For some reason, her mind moved away from ghosts and to the two girls who'd died yesterday. They would never see another sunrise. Never experience another day. Or have another dream. She clutched two handfuls of blanket and fought back the emotion.
She'd just gotten her breathing back to normal when the cold crept into her bedroom like a bad omen.
"Okay," Kylie said, searching for patience that she seemed in short supply of lately. "How about let's have a talk
? What can you tell me that I don't know? Give me something. You gotta give me something so I can help whoever it is that needs help. "
"You can save her. " The ghost's words filled the frigid air and her spirit appeared. Her long dark hair flowed over her shoulders. She didn't appear as thin or sick this time. And there was something about her, something that looked vaguely familiar. Kylie wondered if that meant anything.
"You can save her. You don't know you can, but you have the ability," the ghost said.
"How am I going to save her?" Kylie asked, hoping this might lead her to understand the identity of the person. She needed something, damn it-something to help her figure this out. "Who do I need to save?" "She's scared. She needs you. "
"Who?" Kylie gritted her teeth. "Just tell me who, and I promise I'll do everything I can to save her. Can you understand that I can't save anyone until I know. . . " The ghost vanished.
"Damn it!" Kylie dropped back on the bed. She breathed in and out and tried not to think about her frustration with the ghost. Tried not to think about the frustration with Lucas and the so-called dream. Tried not to think about the girls who'd lost their lives yesterday.
With so many limitations on what she could think about, she found one she could. Today was parents day.
That sent a whole new wave of frustration over her. Her mother wouldn't be here. Her dad . . . her stepdad . . . was off bumping uglies with a girl practically Kylie's own age, and Kylie would probably be the only one whose parents didn't show up.
Didn't that make her feel special?
"Daniel?" she said her father's name aloud. "Could you maybe drop in a minute?" For moral support. Maybe answer a few questions about your parents? "Please. " No answer came. She counted to ten. Said a prayer.
And waited another minute before she lost her patience.
She pounded her fists on the mattress. It felt like a juvenile and stupid thing to do, but in her mood, it also felt good. So good, she continued to do it for a few more minutes.
Socks let out a frightened cry and Kylie felt him take a flying leap off the bed. She might have felt sorry for him if she wasn't in such a piss- poor mood. And that's when she remembered what the whole mood swings problem could possibly mean. She, Kylie Galen, might be morphing into a wolf in two days. Could life get any more friggin', fraggin' messed up?