“Where are we going?” I asked, still trying to process his words about working up his courage to kiss me.
He shifted again and steered the car around a curve at white-knuckle speed. “Someplace we can talk.”
Chapter 18
Once we were well out of town in the heavily wooded area that stretched to the Canadian border, Jared pulled off the road and shut off the engine. He rounded the car and held my door for me, and for a moment I had a flashback of the moments leading up to his ill-fated kiss.
The kiss he had to work up courage for.
My head was spinning from all the things I didn’t understand. He held out his hand and I took it, and in spite of the unusual circumstances, I still felt a thrill. He led me through the woods until we reached a small brook, and we sat on the bank, facing each other in the moonlight.
“Tell me what’s going on, Jared,” I begged.
He said nothing at first. “It’s complicated, and you’re going to think it sounds crazy.”
“It already sounds crazy. What gives? Why do you think someone’s after you?” I paused as something occurred to me. “You think the hit and run was deliberate,” I stated flatly.
“I’m afraid you’re in danger because you’re with me.”
“Who’s after you, Jared?”
He looked away. “Someone who would destroy me.”
I frowned at the nonanswer. “Why would anyone want to do that? Because of the movie? Organized crime or something?”
That brought a chuckle to his lips. “No. Nothing like that.”
“Then what?”
He fixed me with his deep blue eyes and I felt that sensation of the world tilting again. When he spoke, it was unbelievably soothing, but like his voice was coming from far away. “Tell me about your dream, Lacey.”
“My dream?” I asked. My voice sounded distant as well.
“Yes. The bad dream you have again and again.”
I gulped, my eyes locked on his. Where is he going with this? “I…I’m tied down to a hard surface. It’s always night. I struggle to free myself, but I can’t. I’m alone, and then someone appears…with a knife. Sometimes they tell me it’s time to die, other times I can’t make out what they’re saying…but I always wake up when the blade hits my chest.”
“What kind of knife is it?” Jared asked, his voice even softer.
“What kind? I don’t know. It’s stone of some sort. Black stone.”
Jared nodded slowly. “Obsidian.”
He looked away and stood. The dreamlike quality lifted like a fog, and I watched him stoop down, pick up a pebble, and toss it down the brook.
“How do you know what kind of stone it is?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.
He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he looked up at the moon. “There aren’t many black stones that can be chipped or honed to a reliable blade. Flint or obsidian would be the likely suspects.”
“It could be anything. It’s just a dream.”
He sighed again, this time pain evident in his gaze. “I don’t think so, Lacey.”
What? “Okay, Jared. This is getting weird.”
“It’s about to get weirder. You wanted to know who I’m afraid of, or what. To understand that, you need to know more about me.” He paused and his eyes bored into me. “About what I am.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Promise me you’ll hear me out with an open mind.”
I hadn’t known him long, but I knew what I felt. “You can tell me anything. I mean that.”
“I hope so.” He walked back from the water’s edge and sat down across from me again. “The world isn’t the way people see it, Lacey. The lion’s share go through life asleep, seeing only what they want to. But that doesn’t mean that’s all there is. It just means that the lens through which they’re viewing the world only sees certain things – think of it as certain frequencies. Just as a typical human can’t hear a dog whistle but a dog can, or some spectrums of light are invisible to the human eye but visible to other creatures, so too are certain aspects of reality.”
I waited for him to continue, not following where he was going. He seemed to understand my puzzlement – expect it, even.
“Sometimes, though, bits of this reality slip through the cracks into human awareness. Clues to another dimension. Like hints of a familiar melody you can’t put your finger on, but haunt your memory.”
“Are you talking about ESP? Precognition? I’ve looked at that for abnormal psych.”
“That’s a very tame version, but yes, it’s similar to what I’m describing. That occurs when the fabric of space-time rips or has a flaw. Certain sensitives can intuit the future, or events at a distance.”
“You’re…you’re psychic? Is that what this is about?” I asked.
“No. I mean, yes, somewhat, in that when I’m deeply connected to someone, I can read their thoughts under certain emotionally charged circumstances.”
My eyes widened. “But why would someone be after you because of that? Is it some CIA experiment thing?”
Jared laughed at that. “Mmm, no.” He grew serious. “What do you know about the supernatural?”
I gave him a perplexed look. “Like ghosts? Just what I’ve read as a child.”
“How about witches and warlocks? Sorcerers? Wizards? Spells?”
“Harry Potter’s one of my favorite series.” But that’s fiction.
“What about vampires?”
“I don’t remember any in those movies.”
That brought a smile to his lips. “There weren’t any. But what have you heard about them?”
“I read Dracula when I was in eighth grade. And one of the Anne Rice books. I don’t remember the name.”
“The stories pop up throughout history, don’t they?”
I felt a tingle of apprehension along my spine. “Do they?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
My eyes widened. “Are you going to tell me they’re real?”
“Perhaps not as you’ve read in those books. But yes. There’s truth to them, as there are with most accounts that recur through all cultures and on all continents.”
I squinted at him. “Are you totally screwing with
