Shut up, shut up, shut up!

The old man tries to crawl away, but he has crossed a line he should not have, and Ross cannot forgive him his trespass. He strides to where the old man cringes, already anticipating the punishment he will deliver, and he lifts the heavy black staff and brings it down like a hammer …

Ross jerked upright in the darkness of his bedroom, eyes snapping open, body rigid, awash in terror. His breath came in quick, ragged gulps, and he could hear the pounding of his heart in his ears. Stef lay sleeping next to him, unaware of his torment. The bedside clock read five-thirty. He could hear a soft patter against the window glass. Outside, it was raining again.

He held himself motionless beneath the sheet, staring at nothing, remembering. The dream had been real. The memories were his. He squeezed his eyes shut in dismay. He knew who the young woman was. He knew who it must be.

And for the first time since the dream had come to him, he was afraid it might really happen.

Chapter 19

When the phone rang, Nest was buried beneath her blankets where it was pitch-black, and she was certain it was still the middle of the night. She let the phone ring a few times, her mind and body warm and lazy with sleep. Then memories of last night’s horror at Lincoln Park flooded through her, and she crawled from under the covers into shockingly bright daylight.

Squinting uncertainly against the glare, she picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Nest, it’s me. Are you all right?”

John Ross. She recognized his voice. But what an odd question. Unless he knew what had happened to her in the park, of course, but she didn’t know how he could. She hadn’t spoken to anyone afterward. She’d come back and fallen asleep almost immediately.

“I’m fine,” she answered, her mouth and throat dry and cottony. What time was it? She glanced at the bedside clock. It was almost noon. She had forgotten to set the alarm and slept more than ten hours.

“Did I wake you?” he asked quickly. “I’m sorry if I did, but we have to talk.”

She nodded into the phone. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to sleep this late.” She could feel the pain begin even as she spoke the words. Her entire body was throbbing, an ache building steadily from a low whine to a sharp scream. “Where are you?”

“Downstairs, in the lobby.” He paused. “I called earlier and there was no answer. I was afraid something had happened to you, so I decided to come over. Can you come down?”

She took a deep breath, still working at waking up. “In about a half hour. Can you wait?”

“Yes.” He hesitated a long time. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe you were right about some of the things we talked about. Maybe I was wrong.”

She blinked in surprise. “I’ll be down as quick as I can.”