Everafter (Kissed by an Angel) (16 page)

“She’s not the only one,” Bryan said, moving his head close to Ivy’s. “How’s Luke?”

Ivy shrugged. “Haven’t heard from him.”

“She’s lying,” Kelsey said, and was rewarded by the quick turn of Bryan’s head. “She’s been sneaking out at night to see him. Right, Dhanya?”

Dhanya gave Ivy an apologetic look.

“Sometimes she’s come back smelling like she’s been on the water, but not always. That’s what you said,” Kelsey reminded Dhanya.

Gregory had already trailed her part of the way to Tristan, Ivy thought. With this little tidbit, he now knew the hideout was close to the harbor. Denial would simply affirm it.

“She’s seeing somebody,” Kelsey said.

“Hot girls usually do.” Bryan ran a finger along the chain of the amethyst pendant.

Ivy wanted to shove him back, but she was determined not to respond in a dramatic way that might gratify him.

Beth rose to her feet. “Bryan, we’ve got to be at work at six-thirty tomorrow. So, you should probably be moving on.”

“Excuse me,” Kelsey said, “he’s my boyfriend. I’ll tell him when to go.”

But Bryan stood up. “Beth’s right. It’s getting late.” He pulled Kelsey to her feet, kissed her hard on the mouth, then headed toward the door, smiling to himself. At the last moment, he turned back. “Sweet dreams.”

AS SOON AS BRYAN LEFT, BETH CLOSED AND LOCKED
the main door, although it was a different kind of invasion he had just threatened them with. Dhanya went directly to bed.

“Kels, how’re you feeling now?” Ivy asked, noticing that her roommate was walking a little unsteadily toward the kitchen. “How about some soda and munchies?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Kelsey replied, sitting down on the nearest chair. Beth, who was locking the back door, looked curiously at Ivy as she poured a sugary, caffeinated Coke
over ice cubes. Then Beth nodded to signal her understanding, opened a kitchen drawer, and got out a pack of cards. Gregory seeded dreams when people were
asleep
. He had not succeeded when Kelsey was awake, but she was still under his influence. If they could keep Kelsey awake long enough to let the effect wear off . . .

Beth dealt, and Ivy poured two more sodas. “Cheers!” she said wryly, handing the Coke to Beth.

“Why don’t we play for pennies,” Beth suggested.

“Good idea,” Ivy replied. Anything to goad Kelsey’s competitive instinct and keep her awake.

An hour later, on her third Coke and still needing caffeine, Ivy asked, “Feeling better, Kels?”

Her roommate glanced down at the pile of coins she was amassing and grinned. “Much!”

Beth had fallen asleep. “Just let her be,” Ivy said as she and Kelsey played on.

Forty-five minutes later, Ivy got up to stretch. With her back turned to Kelsey, she tried to peer through the window over the sink, but she couldn’t see beyond the screen to the woods. How close did Gregory have to be to seed a dream? They couldn’t stay awake all night.

“Want another Coke?” Ivy asked, pouring herself one.

When she didn’t get an answer, she turned around. Kelsey’s eyes were shut. Ivy hurried over to the table. “Kelsey, wake up.”

Kelsey’s back rested against the wooden chair, but her shoulders were slumped and her head had fallen forward. Ivy gently raised her chin. Beneath Kelsey’s closed lids, her eyes moved rapidly—she was dreaming.

“Kelsey, wake up!” Ivy said sharply. She shook her by the shoulders, but Kelsey remained asleep.

“Beth,” Ivy said, reaching for her friend’s hand.

“What—what is it?” Beth asked, startled, then quickly awakened. Realizing what had happened, she rose from her chair. “Come on, Kelsey. Open your eyes!”

Kelsey was murmuring and twitching. Though her words and movements were hindered by sleep, she sounded angry. Sweat beaded her brow.

With light fingers, Beth slapped her on the cheek, then Ivy fetched ice cubes and rubbed them on Kelsey’s hands and forehead.

Kelsey’s eyes flew open. “Get away from me!” she cried.

Ivy stepped back. “I was just trying to—”

“I said
get away
!” Her eyes flashed and color burned high in her cheeks.

“Kelsey, hush,” Beth said firmly. “Wake up. Clear your head. It was just a dream.”

But Kelsey was furious. “You won’t stop, will you, Ivy? I get it now. You always want the guy you can’t have, the guy who’s not yours. Luke, Bryan—you’re hot for the challenge.”

Ivy shook her head and laid a hand on Kelsey’s arm. “Listen to me—”

Kelsey shook it off. “You compete for guys! That’s your kind of sport!”

“Kelsey, calm down,” Ivy said. “Tell me what you dreamed.”

“It’s not Luke you’re sneaking out to see,” Kelsey replied. “It’s Bryan.”

Ivy grimaced. Gregory had always been skilled at using a person’s fears.

“You’re fooling around with Bryan. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“In your dream,” Ivy said.

“Not just in my dream. I always see you guys together.”

“But
Bryan
is the flirt. He does it just to push your buttons.”

Kelsey struggled to get out of the chair. Her legs were wobbly. “Get away from me!”

“Not until we straighten this out.”

“Get away!” Kelsey’s voice became shrill. “I don’t want you anywhere near me. Or Bryan!” She pushed past Ivy. Using the banister, she pulled herself up the steps to the bedroom.

Ivy felt Beth’s hands on her arms, holding her in place. “She can’t think past her dream,” Beth said quietly. “Let it go.”

“I’m not letting him win,” Ivy argued back.

“If you force her to defend her dream, it will only make it more real in her mind. We’ll try to reason through things tomorrow.”

Ivy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She doubted things would look any different to Kelsey in the morning. “It’s just like before, Beth. He’s going after the people close to me. No one’s safe.”

“It’s you I’m worried about,” Beth replied. “I can help Chase—at least, he’s responding to my texts and phone calls. As for Kelsey, Dhanya, and Max—their dreams will fade. Gregory’s just using them for practice.” Beth reached for Ivy’s fingers and placed her paler, dovelike hands around them, folding them as if in prayer. “You know who Gregory really wants to take down.”

“Yes.”

Beth rested her forehead against Ivy’s. “I won’t let him have you. Not ever!”

HIDDEN IN THE WOODS ABOUT SIXTY FEET FROM THE
cottage, Tristan had been keeping silent guard. The woods behind him ran west and north, thinning along the tumbled stone wall that was the border between Aunt Cindy’s and her neighbor’s. When Tristan had arrived, the cottage’s kitchen light was on, and it had stayed lit for a long time. He watched and waited, wondering how close Gregory had
to be to seed a dream. His gut had told him Gregory would strike again quickly.

Suddenly, there was activity in the kitchen. Tristan heard Kelsey’s raised voice. He wanted to charge the cottage, but he forced himself to remain hidden, suspecting that his quarry was doing the same. Thirty feet behind him, a dark shape slowly rose from the ground shadows and became a silhouette against the lighter mosaic of trees. Gregory lifted his arms and raised his face to the sky in triumph.

Anger burned in Tristan. A dark breeze, a flicker of malice, tossed the tree branches around them.

Gregory turned his head quickly, as if listening. “Hello, Tristan.”

Tristan straightened up and walked toward him. “Gregory.”

“You came for the show. I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be.”

They met in a pool of moonlight at the base of a dead tree.

“Why are you viewing the show from back here?” Gregory asked in a genial voice. “Move closer. Peek in a window. Kelsey can be very entertaining.”

“I’m not interested in Kelsey.”

“You’re interested in
anyone
who touches Ivy,” Gregory replied, leaning against the charred tree. “And so am I.”

A low, satisfied murmuring riffled the leaves around them.

With his index finger, Gregory traced the long scar of a lightning strike burnt in the tree’s white flesh. “Power,” he said, his voice as silky as a lover’s. “Can you produce lightning, Tristan? Can you do it on demand?”

“I don’t wish to.”

Gregory laughed. “I didn’t ask you what you
wish
.” He tilted his head and looked Tristan up and down, as if assessing his strength. The body was Bryan’s, but the arrogant pose was Gregory’s. “I can’t control lightning,” he confessed, “not yet, but I can produce it. I’ve killed with it.”

Tristan’s hands itched to grab him by the throat and throw him to the ground. An ominous soughing stirred the trees.

“We’re stuck in these bodies, aren’t we,” Gregory said. “The voices forgot to mention that little detail until I was securely inside this one. If we die in these bodies, we can’t return.”

“So maybe you should think twice before playing with lightning.”

“Is that why you held back?” Gregory asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You knew my identity before I knew yours. Why didn’t you strike first? What are you afraid of, Tristan?”

“Nothing.”

Gregory snickered. “Anyone who has something to lose is afraid. That’s the problem with love. It gives you something to lose.”

The sinister murmur awakened into distinct voices:
Now. Ever. Ours
.

“Why aren’t you dream seeding?” Gregory persisted. “It’s a lot of fun.”

“I don’t need victims to make me feel like I’m alive.”

“Back when I
was
alive,” Gregory said, “you could slip inside people’s minds. Mine, Eric’s—you prowled around our dreams. This dream seeding ought to be a piece of cake for you.”

The muscles in Tristan’s arms tightened. His fists were sharp knuckles.

“Wait a minute,” Gregory said, his voice charged with amusement. “I should have guessed it—you didn’t
choose
to be in the body of a wanted murderer. You got your wings clipped!”

Now. Ever. Ours.

“What are you doing time for?” Gregory taunted. “Something to do with Ivy. She’ll bring you down if anybody will.”

Tristan struggled to control the emotions roiling within him.

Which way? Which way?
the voices asked.

“What do you want, Gregory?”

“I think you know,” the demon replied coolly.

“Revenge. But then, why are
you
holding back? You know where Ivy is, where I am. And you have nothing to lose. Why haven’t you killed us?”

The power is within you,
the voices said.

Gregory laid a patronizing hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “The tragedy is, once Ivy’s dead, the fun is over.”

Tristan shook off his hand.

“Think about it, Tristan. It’s the dying that’s so entertaining.”

A mix of anger and horror ran through Tristan’s veins.

“I’ve watched Ivy have a great life at my expense—”

“At your expense!” Tristan exclaimed.

“And I deserve more,” Gregory went on, “than watching her die a quick and painless death.
Bang bang, Ivy’s dead
—how unsatisfying!”

You deserve more,
the voices said.

“If you touch her,” Tristan threatened, “if you do anything to hurt her—”

“She owes me! And I will make her pay.” Gregory’s words thrummed low and intense beneath the rising pitch of the voices. “I will draw her blood, drop by drop.”

Tristan lunged at him. The voices shrilled with pleasure. He dragged Gregory to the ground, then pulled up and slammed his fist into Gregory’s jaw again and again, until his knuckles bled.

The power is within you,
the voices shouted.

Pinned beneath Tristan, Gregory fought back, his strong arms raising Tristan off his chest so he could roll out from under him. Leaping to his feet, Gregory kicked Tristan in the head, then hard in the gut, making him gasp for breath.

The power and the glory!
the voices cried.

Struggling to stand, Tristan reeled backward into the dead tree. Gregory took off running for the old stone wall. Tristan raced after him, catching him at the base. Gregory scrambled up the pile of rocks. Tristan followed, grabbing him from behind. They struggled, and the loose stones at the top gave way. Grappling with each other, they slid together down the heap.

At the bottom, Tristan’s fingers closed around the end of a jagged rock. It was too heavy to pick up in one hand. But as the voices grew in number, as their pitch climbed, a sudden, unnatural strength surged inside him. Kneeling on Gregory, grasping the rock, Tristan lifted his arm. The face below him stared up in terror. Tristan had Gregory where he wanted him: He would crush the serpent’s head until Gregory’s spirit bled out of it.

Take what is yours!
the voices told him.

Gregory’s life—and his own—this was what the voices wanted. If he killed, if he served hell’s demons, he would be beyond redemption. But damnation was worth it, if it kept Ivy safe.

A sacrifice! A sacrifice!
the voices screamed, triumphant.
Now, ever, ours!

Now, ever . . . theirs. Theirs in hell for eternity, an eternity without Ivy. Forever without Ivy.

Tristan bowed his head. He was able to pray just two words.
Angels. Help.

Slowly his grasp on the rock loosened, and the weapon slipped to the ground.

Standing up, Tristan dragged Gregory to his feet. “Get out of here!” He pushed Gregory away, though his hands still ached to hurt him. “Get out of my sight!”

Gregory rubbed his bruises, smirked at Tristan, then slunk away.

SUNDAY MORNING, WITH KELSEY STILL FUMING, IVY
and Beth switched jobs, Ivy teaming up with Will to serve breakfast. While they were sweeping the last pastry crumbs and flower petals off the porch, Beth joined them.

Will’s face lit up. “Hey, ready for our bike ride this afternoon?”

Beth hesitated. “I was wondering if we could go in the evening instead.”

Ivy saw the disappointment on Will’s face, though he quickly hid it. “Did something come up?”

“During my break I talked to Chase.”