Reach for You by Pat Esden (5)

CHAPTER 5

If I give you my heart, if I pledge my soul,
Will you come back, will you be mine forever?
If I reach in the darkness, if I dare the night,
Will you be there, will you be there forever?

From “Forever Mine”

 

 

 

A minute later, I was speeding up the driveway. Dusk was deepening, shadows falling quickly. At the main gate, I didn’t turn into Chase’s cottage. Instead, I steered the ATV in the opposite direction, down a trail-like maintenance road that ran along the southern border of Moonhill’s property. The road wound through an overgrown pasture and into the woods, where it dead-ended in a wide spot surrounded by giant pine trees.

I parked the ATV and flew into the darkening woods, the pine’s fragrant carpet soft beneath my footsteps. I swept past the place where less than a month ago Chase and I had made love for the first time and out onto a rocky point.

A warm breeze pushed my hair from my face. The scent of the ocean filled my nose. This was Chase’s favorite place, his secret clifftop sanctuary, overlooking the broad ocean on one side and Port St. Claire’s harbor on the other. The surreal sensation of Chase being with me was gone. But if any place could bring him back, it was here.

Relief settled over me and I sunk down onto the clifftop, sitting with my knees pulled up to my chest. Chase. I stared out at the evening sky, letting my head fill with the rhythmic beat of waves against the rocks, the cry of a lone gull, the whisper of the breeze. I breathed in deep through my nose, letting it out slowly through my mouth, the way Selena did when she focused and scried. I brought Chase’s face to mind: his ocean-gray eyes, the slope of his jaw, the twitch in his cheek when he tried not to smile. The bristle of his morning beard. The smoothness after he shaved. The taste of water on his lips when we made love in the shower. The way he flinched when my tongue touched the brand Malphic had burned into the skin, just below his collarbone.

My heartbeat slowed, seeming to take on the rhythm of the waves. I balled up Tibbs’s jacket. Using it as a pillow, I laid back. Above me, dark clouds rushed across the twilight sky. The warmth of the rock beneath me seeped into my muscles. Despite the breeze and clouds, I was warm. Comfortable. I let my mind drift, trying to go back to that moment in time on the terrace.

I could feel myself relaxing, slipping, closer and closer toward sleep. When I was little, sometimes, if I stayed in the place between wake and sleep long enough, I could bring on the dream that I wanted: flying, riding horses into the sea . . . Maybe this time, if I wished hard enough—

* * *

* * *

Cold. Something cold pinged my arm. A second later, another ping.

My eyes flashed open. Rain!

Thunder rumbled, wind bent the pines, and the patter of drops transformed into a deluge.

I leapt to my feet, grabbed Tibbs’s jacket—and noticed something dark red on my fingertips, vanishing quickly as the rain diluted it, washing away: Blood.

My body went numb. My thoughts frozen.

The thunder growled. The waves boomed against the rocks, their spray hissing skyward and falling all around me. I dropped the jacket and stared at my hands. Blood, now gone.

Logic told me one of the cuts on my arms had broken open. Diluted by water, even a pinprick could look like a gusher.

I ran my hands over my arms, searching for tender spots, torn scabs, or any trace of lingering blood. Nothing.

My breath stalled in my throat. Chase’s mother. My mother. The genie Malphic had visited both of them in their dreams. Malphic had eventually kidnapped my mom and taken her to his harem. He hadn’t taken Chase’s mom, but she’d ended up in Beach Rose House, diagnosed as insane. Could Chase do the same thing as his father now? Had he reached across the veil to me? That was why I’d come here, hoping to draw him to me.

Horror knifed me in the chest and I clenched my teeth until it hurt. I was such an idiot. If Chase’s desire to be with me had allowed him to reach across the veil, it wasn’t something that I should have encouraged. It meant, possibly, that he was succumbing to the change. Of all the fears I had about him being trapped in the djinn realm, dying wasn’t the worst. It was that his hormones would become too powerful and he’d lose control over himself, and go berserk. Chase was at the age where genies and half genies matured, gaining powers and strength. Sex, fighting, anything that affected his testosterone level or brought on a surge of adrenaline could stimulate that change. When the change occurred, all genies went through a phase of fearless rage and indifference that was a lot like battle-frenzy. It lasted a few moments or one night at the most, except for half-ifrit genies like Chase. Most of them never came down from that stage. They went berserk and were kept in the lowest level of Malphic’s fortress, where they were allowed out for fights or to wander the desert at night, full of nothing except rage and bloodlust. Killers, who sometimes became so uncontrollable that Malphic had their life energy drained until they faded and died. I couldn’t begin to guess why Malphic would want to push his own son over that edge. But there was no doubt Chase was on the cusp, and I needed to do whatever I could to protect him.

I looked up, blinking against the rain, feeling its chill rushing down my face and neck. I needed to do everything I could to help Chase stay calm and resist the change until we could find Lotli, go back to the realm, and free him. If we could get him home in time, maybe Grandfather and Kate would be able to help him through the change intact. I didn’t want to lose him. But more than that, I couldn’t bear the thought of him losing himself and becoming nothing but a deranged killer. The Chase I knew was kind and generous. The Chase I loved was gentle and sweet. I had to reach him before he went berserk.

Another thought touched my mind, lightening the weight of my terror for a moment. If what I’d experienced was real and not a dream, then Chase was alive and sane enough to remember me. For now, at least.

But what about the blood?

There had been so much of it.

What if he’d chanced coming to me to say good-bye?

What if he was on the cusp of death as well as the change?