Closing her eyes, she did her best to focus, hoping for something—anything—to help piece it all together. She was about to give up when the urge to stroke the statue she was still clutching to her chest came over her. She did.
As she concentrated, images flashed through her mind of the man who had been kind to her. Like always, she couldn’t make out all his features, but she could picture his eyes clearly.
They were royal blue.
He was big, she knew that as well—like a giant to her child mind at the time.
And oddly, she had vague impressions of braiding the man’s dark brown hair, but that couldn’t be right. Could it?
A nervous chuckle escaped her. She had to be remembering it all wrong.
There was a light rap on her door, followed by a soft voice speaking to her. “Libs?”
The door creaked open gradually. A petite woman with long white-blonde hair was there, her blue eyes wide with worry as she peered into the room. As she spotted the floating items, she frowned. “Did you have another bad dream?”
The second the question left the woman’s lips, the items all fell. Most hit the floor, some dropped onto the dresser or the bedside tables.
Liberty shot out a hand and barely managed to catch the framed photo before it would have crashed down as well. She set it on the side table and then did the same with the statue. “I’m sorry, Daisy. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Daisy entered the room more, carefully stepping over the items that were strewn about. A random shoe that had ended up landing on the edge of the dresser fell to the floor as Daisy walked by it, paying it no mind. “You didn’t wake me. I couldn’t sleep. I drifted off, but that didn’t last long. I stopped trying to fall back asleep. We need to be up in a few hours anyway and it’s kind of sticky out tonight with the humidity. Makes it hard to sleep.”
Liberty glanced at the mess in her room and bit her lower lip. “Did I make anything else in the house float while I was sleeping?”
Daisy shrugged. “A few things. My bed was one of them. No biggie. I wasn’t sleeping anyway, and I caught anything that was headed for my open window.”
“No biggie?” asked Liberty as panic filled her. Her imagination ran wild with what might have occurred. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
Daisy snorted. “I’m fine. Had a little exorcist moment there but figured out right away that you were probably dreaming and that my bed wasn’t inhabited by a demon. Least I hope it was you doing that to my bed. You don’t think the demon across the street moved in here now, do you?” she asked before lifting a hand dismissively. “Kidding. I don’t actually believe in them.”
Liberty couldn’t help but laugh. “We have enough of our own problems. We don’t need demonic entities joining in, but you should know, I totally do believe in demons.”
Daisy groaned. “I know.”
“Sorry about the bed thing,” said Liberty. “And sorry that I keep losing control at night so much lately. I’m pretty sure I’m the reason things keep showing up in new spots around the house—you know, other than where they started.”
“Yet they always show up,” countered Daisy, seemingly unconcerned by it all.
This was becoming something of a habit. For the past three months, it had been a nearly nightly occurrence.
While Liberty had been having bad dreams all her life, they’d gotten more intense as of late. So had Daisy’s worrying. Her concern wasn’t to be taken lightly. The woman’s sixth sense was unnerving and as Daisy got older, she seemed to get a better handle on it.
Liberty knew it could all be traced back to what they were doing—hunting for answers to questions they had, while doing what they could to find others like them. Others who were different. She slid over on her queen-size bed and pulled the covers back, making room for her friend.
Daisy’s feet padded across the hardwood floor as she hurried to the other side of the bed. She crawled in and immediately lay on her side, facing Liberty, her gaze troubled. “Did you have the dreams again?”
“Yes,” replied Liberty, lying back down, turning onto her side to face her friend as well.
“Anything new?” questioned Daisy. “Was the blue-eyed man in them?”
“He was,” confessed Liberty.
“I don’t suppose you caught a break and remembered something new, did you?” asked Daisy.
“He called me Little Paw in this one,” said Liberty.
Daisy adjusted the pillow beneath her head, regarding Liberty curiously. “Little Paw? Why would he call you that?”
“I’m not sure.”
Daisy sighed. “Nothing else then? No name? No face? Nothing?”
A half-laugh came from Liberty. “Isobel’s impatience is wearing off on you.”
“Sorry, I just have this feeling, deep down, that we’re so close to getting answers,” said Daisy.
“Me too,” admitted Liberty.
“What do we know so far about him?” asked Daisy, lifting a hand and ticking off her fingers as she ran down the list. “He’s got dark hair, blue eyes, he’s huge, has an accent, he may or may not have given you that plastic hunk of junk, erm, I mean awesome statue, and a stuffed bear that has seen better days, he called you Little Paw, and he was nice. Am I forgetting anything?”
Liberty snorted. “That he smelled like apple pie, or at least I think he did.”
“Gee, that is super helpful,” stressed Daisy. “I wonder if Isobel can hack a database that lists everyone who smells like a baked good.”
“She probably already has that search parameter set up in whatever it is she uses her dark hacking powers for,” said Liberty with a chuckle, earning her a laugh from Daisy. “That and something that lists if they look good in leather.”
“Right!”
Liberty perked, recalling a detail she’d not shared with Daisy. “Oh, there is something else too. Braids. I think I might have braided his hair.”
Daisy was
