Aven's Dream Read online

  “Do what?” Will asked.

  I studied him.

  “Are you manipulating my thoughts right now?”

  His other hand came up and began tracing the inside of my wrist, making me shiver.

  “I prefer to think of it as influencing them.”

  “Why would you do that?” I asked breathlessly.

  Will dropped my wrist, and I looked down as my hand fell into my lap.

  “Because I am an unscrupulous fiend.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “But it’s the truth, Aven. No matter how hard I try to change my nature, at my core I will always be an insatiable creature whose existence relies on feeding off of others.”

  “No! That isn’t true. And if I’m an empath, then I know things. Right? Well, I’m in love with you, and I don’t care what you are. I only care who you are to me—and I refuse to believe that I’ve fallen in love with a monster.”

  “And that is why I will continue to strive to be better than my nature,” he smiled sadly.

  “Wait. Is that why you were such a psycho last week and at dinner? Because you were—”

  “Craving you with an voracious need bordering on insanity?” Will finished.

  Another chill traveled through me.

  “But you seemed fine until …” I trailed off.

  “Until the weather started getting better?” Will finished again.

  I frowned and nodded.

  “I don’t know why—and I’ve been studying the phenomenon for decades—but the ultraviolet radiation from the sun seems to increase my metabolic rate. As a result, I need to replenish my energy more often. For creatures like me, sunshine is a burden.”

  I frowned. So that was why he had been acting like such a … vampire when the sun had come out.

  “You mean you’re allergic to sunlight?” I laughed before I could stop myself.

  “It means I had to struggle against the impulse to drain you or any other hapless human I came across.”

  I stopped smiling.

  “Well, that’s very vampire-ish,” I mused. “But you seem fine now.”

  “Saying I’m fine would definitely be classified as dangerous overconfidence on my part,” he answered carefully, again tracing my hand with his long fingers.

  I fought not to close my eyes at the feeling of his touch on my skin.

  “Are you saying you’re not okay right now?” I asked tentatively.

  My skin prickled as I looked down at my small, pale hand in his grip. I felt like I was asking a python if it wanted to squeeze the life out of me now or later. The more disturbing part was that I couldn’t persuade myself to care. For better or worse, I couldn’t think of anywhere I wanted to be—or anyone I wanted to be with more than Will—regardless of the risk.

  “Your energy—your life force—is very potent, and I hadn’t anticipated my craving to be as strong as it was,” Will said circumspectly. “I thought I could control myself when I showed up at your house, but I seem to burn through more reserves when I’m with you, which means I need to be more cautious.”

  My brain clicked to the episode by the pool, the memory of Darcy snarling at Will.

  “What about earlier at the pool?”

  Will’s eyes darkened.

  “An inexcusable moment of weakness.”

  “Did I do something?”

  Will stopped and studied me. Then he exhaled.

  “Some human emotions are more intense, more satisfying than others,” he laughed.

  “Like what?”

  “Moments of intense fear, for instance. Anger. Sexual arousal.”

  I blushed.

  “Were you afraid of me earlier?” he asked.

  “A little,” I admitted with a shrug. “But I didn’t even know why.”

  “Fear should be your natural instinct when confronted by a predator. I could feel your fear, and my instinct was to pursue you, to elicit more of what I crave.”

  “And arousal?” I asked, trying to hide my embarrassment.

  Will looked down, his brow creased.

  “Is a double-edged sword,” he said.

  I frowned, and he looked up at me.

  “Yours, for instance, increases my craving,” he continued. “My own makes it harder for me to control myself—but I can,” he said vehemently.

  I swallowed, unsure which one of us he was trying to convince.

  “You mean you can sense when someone is—”

  He nodded and leaned toward me. My breath caught as I felt his lips graze my jaw.

  “You can’t imagine how badly I want to touch you again, how badly I need to feel your desire,” he whispered hoarsely.

  Closing my eyes, I felt a sharp tremor of longing at the sound of his voice, the feel of his lips drifting across my skin. My breathing sped up, and when Will pulled back, I gasped.

  “I can control myself,” he said softly as my eyes snapped open.

  I took several shuddering breaths, trying to get my feelings under control.

  “I don’t think I have as much self control as you do,” I admitted, realizing that all I wanted right now was to feel his lips on mine again.

  Will stood up in a fluid motion and pulled me up with him.

  “Aven, don’t say things like that. It makes it less likely that I will be able to retain said control.”

  I blushed again. Then my hand flew to my mouth as I remembered that my dad was supposed to call.

  “My dad! He was supposed to call me!”

  I looked around desperately for my phone as an image of my dad calling the police flashed in my mind. I winced at the thought, but before I could panic, Will held out my cell phone.

  “Where did you get my … never mind.”

  I snatched the phone from him and called my dad.

  “Dad?”

  “Are you all right, Aven? I’ve been trying to call.”

  “I was sleeping,” I lied guiltily.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. I told you I’d be fine.”

  “Good. You had me worried.”

  “Sorry.”

  I glanced over at Will and wondered how worried my dad would be if he knew that I was with Will—and how much worse it would be if he knew what Will was. Scratch that. I barely understood what Will was.

  “How are things at the conference?” I asked absently with my eyes still on Will.

  “The presentations have had a great response. I’ll tell you about it when I get home.”

  “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “My flight gets in around six-thirty, and it’ll be a drive from the airport. Go ahead and have dinner without me. Until then, you can give me a call if you need anything.”

  “All right. Love you, Dad.”

  When I ended the call, Will studied me.

  “You didn’t feel like telling your father that you were spending the day in the company of a creature with very bad intentions toward his daughter?” he asked, his eyes flashing in amusement.

  “You have bad intentions toward moi?” I asked wryly.

  My heart was racing again, but not from fear.

  “I do,” Will said more seriously than I expected. “But in the interest of not corrupting you any further than I already have, shall we focus on schoolwork?”

  “How?” I asked, suddenly miserable. “I left all my stuff at home.”

  “I brought your schoolwork here.”

  I frowned.

  “Really?”

  Will nodded and started walking toward the glass doors at the front of the house, which opened automatically at his approach. He returned moments later holding my backpack and gestured upstairs.

  “Thanks.”

  Suddenly the thought of doing homework was so absurd after his revelations that I laughed.

  “This is surreal,” I mumbled to myself.

  Chapter 13: Scary Monsters

  Will and I had been working on our outline for the paper for at least a couple of hours w
hen I finally remembered poor Darcy, who hadn’t eaten since the morning.

  “Darcy,” I groaned, standing up from Will’s sofa. “I need to get home to give him dinner.”

  Before I could get very far, Will reached out and pulled me back onto the couch and into his arms. For a second, I snuggled closer to him, craving as much closeness as I could get. I had the distinct feeling that I was about to wake up from a dream.

  “I fed him two hours ago,” Will said proudly.

  “You did?”

  “I’ve been keeping you well fed, haven’t I? I brought food for him as well.”

  “I looked at my phone. Well, it is getting close to my dinner time,” I pointed out. “I need to get home to feed myself.”

  “I’ve taken care of that as well.”

  I frowned as he got up and began walking toward the door. Shaking my head, I went back to my homework and had just started correcting my Trig problems when Will walked back in carrying a large paper bag. I sat silently, in shock, as he began taking out items and arranging them on the table in front of me. It was a complete dinner—and it looked amazing. Like fancy-restaurant amazing.

  “How did you do that?”

  “Delivery,” he said with a smile.

  “Uh, not way out here in the middle of nowhere, and definitely not food this good,” I said, picking up the spoon and tasting the soup. I nearly moaned. “Oh my god, this is good.”

  “Lobster bisque.”

  “Seriously—this isn’t takeout.”

  “It is. For enough money,” Will said dryly.

  “How did you know I was about to get hungry? I barely know when I’m about to get psychotic.”

  Will laughed.

  “You’re very easy to read that way. You get very angry immediately before hunger sets in. But it does take some getting used to, remembering what it’s like to have to eat so many times a day, how much you have to sleep at night—all your little idiosyncrasies.”

  I stopped and raised an eyebrow.

  “You do sleep … right?”

  He shook his head.

  “No.”

  “Are you serious?” I gasped as I reached for the crusty French bread.

  “I don’t require food either, remember.”

  “So? What do you do at night?”

  I held up my hand, rethinking my question.

  “Wait. Do I want to know?”

  “Probably not. … Have you heard any legends of the incubus and succubus?”

  “Vaguely,” I said as I started on the pasta, which was insanely good.

  “According to a number of myths and legends, a male—or female—demon would sneak into the sleeping chambers of unsuspecting people in order to seduce them and drain their vitality.”

  “Creepy,” I shuddered.

  “But based in truth.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No.”

  I swallowed.

  “Does that mean you’ve been sneaking into my room at night—I mean before I found out about it?” I asked, setting down my fork and trying to pull away from him.

  He kept me still with one hand and used the other to catch my chin in a blindingly fast motion.

  “Yes. But it was to keep you safe.” He paused. “I also find it rather peaceful watching you sleep, Aven.”

  I pulled away and shook my head, jumping up from the sofa.

  “That is seriously wrong!”

  “Why?”

  “Lots of reasons!” I sputtered.

  “Which are?”

  “That’s a huge invasion of privacy! You did it without my permission! Plus … My dad! He’s just down the hall!

  “Do you think your father could catch me off guard?” Will asked with a crooked smile.

  “No,” I grumbled.

  “I apologize for watching you without your permission, but I couldn’t think of a rational explanation to give you for why I was watching you. Can you think of one?”

  I laughed suddenly, surprising myself.

  “A rational explanation for you sneaking into my house and watching me sleep? No, I can’t think of one.”

  Then something else occurred to me.

  “Why did you come to my house on Friday then?” I asked, changing the subject, if not to a more comforting one. “I mean, wasn’t it risky?”

  “It was a calculated risk. I thought it was better to watch over you even in my compromised state rather than leave you unprotected.”

  Reaching out swiftly, Will pulled me back onto the sofa with him.

  “But you could have done that from outside my house,” I said before I could stop myself.

  “Yes, but I also wanted to be near you, not only because of the craving, but because … I was drawn to you in a way I couldn’t comprehend. At first, I thought it was merely your energy. I had never given much weight to the emotion of love, having always attributed people’s heightened emotional response to lust. That, or purely a human delusion. But watching you, listening to you, talking to you—I felt something that I had never experienced before.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t lust?” I grinned cheekily.

  He smiled.

  “Equal parts lust and love? And does this mean you’re done with schoolwork for the evening?”

  Will closed the book he had been studying, and I realized it was one of the many from his shelves, not our U.S. History textbook.

  “Yes, all finished with schoolwork,” I said, imitating his cadence. “Now I have a million questions for you.”

  “Because you enjoy hearing of scary monsters?”

  I gave him a withering look.

  “You are not a monster. Stalker? Definitely.”

  “And has it occurred to you that I might want to know more about you?”

  I blinked.

  “There’s not much to tell. I haven’t existed for more than two centuries,” I pointed out.

  Will took one of my hands in his and traced the skin lightly, making goose bumps appear.

  “My turn for questions.”

  “Fine,” I smiled. “Ask away. I told you, there’s not much to tell.”

  “When did you first realize you were different from other people?”

  I swallowed and looked down. I hadn’t expected that kind of question.

  “I had a funny feeling for years,” I smiled bitterly. “I had a lot of problems in large groups of people. It always felt like I knew when people were lying. I would get physical symptoms when other people got sick even if I wasn’t.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “But the first time I knew there was something wrong with me was night my mom died.

  I looked up at him.

  “That night I woke up … and I knew something had happened. I felt her pain. Later, they said she died instantly, but I knew the truth.”

  I didn’t realize I was crying until Will pulled me into his arms. I buried my face in his shirt and let the emotion flow out of me, stuff I had kept bottled up, never showing anyone—not even my dad. A sob escaped my throat as Will rocked me gently. Finally, after several minutes I turned my head and looked out the window. All I could see was blackness—no trees. I hiccupped and then gasped.

  “What time is it?” I mumbled.

  I pulled back, swiping at my cheeks and nose as I looked around for a clock. Will handed me a cloth handkerchief, and I wiped my face.

  “It’s half-past ten.”

  I jumped out of his arms.

  “It’s ten-thirty at night? We have school tomorrow! I should have been home getting ready for bed an hour ago. Sean’s coming to pick me up in the morning!”

  Will paused.

  “I thought perhaps you would stay here tonight.” My eyes widened. “I’ll have you to school on time. I promise.”

  He flashed a blindingly white smile.

  “Spend the night? Here? With you?” I glanced wildly around the room—like I was going to find an invisible witness to this ludicrous suggestion.

  “I’ll behave myself. I pr
omise,” Will said, his eyes burning with an intensity that made my resolve weaken.

  “My dad would kill me if he knew.”

  There was actually a growing list of reasons why my dad would never let me out of the house, if he knew about them.

  “I’ll have Darcy back at your house before your father comes home tomorrow. Please. Just for tonight,” he said.

  His voice was low and seductive, his eyes continuing to burn away any capacity I had to make a cogent argument.

  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” I said, but my voice trembled.

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “I don’t trust me! I mean, I thought that last night was some kind of crazy dream when I woke up with you in my room. … A lot has changed in less than twenty-four hours.”

  My entire life has changed, I realized.

  “Yes,” he conceded.

  I frowned, knowing I wasn’t going to say no, because right now I couldn’t even imagine going back home. I sighed and shook my head, resigned.

  “I give up.”

  “Thank you.”

  Will’s eyes were an endless, liquid blue as he stared down at me. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him what I would wear to sleep, but he had already disappeared into a walk-in closet. He returned a moment later with a T-shirt, which I guessed would reach my knees—and a pair of pink panties from my dresser at home.

  “Did you take these from my room?” I squeaked, my cheeks probably the same shade as my hair as I snatched them from him.

  “I did.”

  “Were you planning on keeping me here all night?”

  “Perhaps I was hoping,” he smiled. “Does that make me an optimist?”

  “No! Like I said, more like a stalker,” I growled before stomping toward the bathroom.

  When I looked back before closing the door, he was arranging himself fluidly on the couch with the copy of For Whom the Bell Tolls from my bag.

  I shuddered and thought: Nothing ends well.

  In the bathroom, there was a brand new toothbrush and toothpaste on the vanity. I brushed my teeth diligently before washing my face, and after changing into Will’s ridiculously long T-shirt, I stepped back into the bedroom and stopped cold. Reclined on the couch like he had never moved, Will was wearing a pair of flannel pajama bottoms—and no shirt. When he looked up from the book, I scowled at him.

  “I thought you were going to behave yourself,” I accused.