“Don’t even think about it, Kale. I can handle this. But, not tonight. Going after them could mean running straight into a trap. I want to do this right. On my terms. Not theirs.”
We stared at one another, and I was painfully aware of how close we stood to the very spot where we’d made love in the rain. However, I was also aware of the weight of the crossbow bolt in my hand and what it represented. My skills and instincts had served me well tonight, but would they keep me alive every time? I had to hunt down the person behind the hit and soon. The next shot might get lucky.
“You should get out of here.” The power rolled off Kale in tantalizing waves. “Want to come along to check up on the dreamwalker? Maybe we can do a little brainstorming. Figure out who could want you dead bad enough to take such a risky shot.”
He expected me to say no. My common sense insisted I should. But, I was angry, scared and starting to shake.
“I’ll come. You drive.”
I waited until we were in his slick, black 73 Camaro before I grilled him for more information about the dreamwalker. Once we were moving smoothly through the late night downtown traffic, I used my many questions as a way to avoid further speculation on the near death experience I’d just had. “Whom exactly are we spying on and why?”
“We’re not spying, Alexa.” Kale laughed derisively. “That sounds so Hollywood-action movie. Just keeping watch.”
“Spying.” I corrected, grinning when he flipped me off.
A smile danced along his lips when he shot me a playful glare. “You’re a pain in the ass. Anyway, it’s a seventeen-year-old dreamwalker. We’ve been watching him.”
“Is he dangerous?” I’d heard mention of dreamwalkers, though I didn’t know much about them. I was tempted to run a search on my phone but decided to wait rather than show my ignorance.
“He could be. Right now, he’s just your typical teenage boy.”
“Why is he being watched, then, if he’s not a threat?” It sounded sketchy. There’s no way Shya or anyone else would waste the time and effort if there weren’t more to this kid.
“To make sure he doesn’t become one, I guess. Or, a victim.” Kale didn’t offer more in the way of explanation.
He navigated the city streets while I let my suspicions breed. I had been a teenager when Shya and Veryl had started pulling strings in my life. Whatever the demon really had planned for this kid, it couldn’t be good.
The house we rolled up to was a basic two-level, middle-class family home. We parked on the opposite side of the street. It was late. I didn’t expect to see a damn thing. However, a light was on inside the living room, and the glow of the television could easily be seen.
“He doesn’t sleep much,” Kale said, staring across the street. “Most dreamwalkers don’t. Usually, I find him playing videogames, surfing the net or screwing his girlfriend. Only once have I come by when he was asleep. It was pretty weird.”
“Weird? Like how?” I could see the silhouette of a person sitting near the TV. “Where are his parents?”
“Oh, they’re upstairs. They have no idea what their son can do, I’m sure. Most people give dreamwalkers some kind of diagnosis like insomnia or some such thing. Really, it’s just that they fight sleep because every time it means walking in the dreams of someone else.” Kale shut the engine off and turned to me. “It was weird because I could feel that he wasn’t really there. Even though his body was there, his energy was just gone.”
Fascinating. I’d definitely have to learn more about dreamwalkers. Especially if Shya had an interest in them.
“So why exactly are we here? I mean, what reason is there to come by and stare at his house? It’s strange.”
“No reason really. Just to make sure we know where he is. To make sure nobody else does.”
“That translates into, so he doesn’t somehow get away from Shya. Or, perhaps so he doesn’t get picked off by someone else.” I nodded, as a sinking sensation settled in my gut. “I get it.”
It was disturbing to me on so many levels, most of all, because I knew the same thing had been done to me. Maybe Shya had no reason to have me followed now or maybe he had just changed his methods of doing so. Regardless, I was still very much under his thumb, and as I stared at this innocent kid’s house, it was devastatingly undeniable. Shya was the puppet master pulling our strings. What would he do if we cut the ties that held us?
“So what makes this kid special enough to be worth watching?” I asked, my tone thick with skepticism. “Can he kill people in their dreams? Control them? What?”