Caitlin West

When I looked into his eyes, all those concerns faded away and I felt myself giving in to the world around me.

"Hello," his voice held a deep timbre, powerful as he approached me with his hand held out. He spoke with a hint of a German accent, but it was subtle, as if he had been away from his home country for a long time. "I've missed you terribly."

My dream man had never spoken to me before. It was almost a creepy turn of events.

Nevertheless, I advanced toward him and took his hand gingerly. His fingers tightened over mine, and he urged me closer.

"I missed you, too," I practically whispered the response. I suddenly felt intimidated in his presence though it didn't come close to deterring me from getting closer. "I don't understand all of this."

"Shh." The only sound I had ever heard him make was a familiar and comforting one. He smiled as he put a finger to my lips. "It'll all become apparent to you eventually. I promise."

"I trust you." I felt overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. It made me melt inside, and I smiled self-consciously. A huff of laughter offset the tension. "You're so beautiful… I wish you were real."

"Who says that I'm not?" He leaned closer and kissed my forehead. "Just because this isn't real doesn't mean what we have won't be real someday."

"I don't understand." It was the honest truth. I knew that these moments were not merely daydreams but what specifically they were, I hadn't guessed. The worst part was that I was on autopilot outside of them. I was on the verge of questioning my sanity. "How is this possible?"

"I think that we're supposed to be happy here." He kissed my cheek and shifted so he could whisper in my ear. "There might not be many happy days ahead. I don't have all the answers, Miranda, but I do have something almost as valuable--hope."

"Hope?" I began to tremble, and he gave me a careful hug. "Hope for what?"

"The future." He drew his head back to look me in the eyes again. "Ours…the world's… everything."

"That's enough to make a girl afraid." I tried to make the comment flippant, but instead it sounded weak.

"And what's this enough to do?" He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. The contact was gentle at first but escalated swiftly until we were deep in the midst of a passionate dance of muffled moans.

There was something about his very presence that drove me wild physically. I wanted him to possess me--to comfort me with his touch. In contrast, I was desperate to see him relax his broad shoulders and gaze at me through eyes that spoke of pure happiness--the kind of emotion where one surrenders to all else.

It was my turn to take control.

They stepped past several shelves and Daniel turned at the last, moving into a spacious corner. Not all of the books had titles on the spines which made Karen’s heart sink. She wondered exactly how they were supposed to know which texts they were supposed to pull or how they were going to differentiate them.

“So…” Daniel cleared his throat. “We’re looking for information about the Reilly family. This area has port journals and some ancient captain’s logs. I’m hoping that we’ll come across something from Colin Reilly, preferably something late in his career. It should have clues to what we’re interested in.”

“But how can we find anything in this?” Karen waved her hand over the books. “Do we have to check every single one?”

“No, they do try to organize them somewhat.” Daniel drew one book from the top left of the shelf. Karen presumed that it was the beginning of the section. “These are port records. You can tell because they’re made of this dark red leather and are often grouped up in threes. They spread them out because they’re easy to spot and organized by what port master was in charge at the time.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to do that by year?”

“That depends on what research you’re doing.” Daniel put the book back. “All of those books have been scanned into a computer and put in chronological order. This is more about the people who wrote in the books than what’s in them.”

“And the log books… alphabetical by author? Or ship name?”

“Good question,” Daniel replied, drawing another book out near the top. “This is the log book of Reginald Alponte of the merchant ship Sequester.” He paused a moment and chuckled. “I wonder if he meant to make that play on words.”

Karen snorted, stepping closer to the shelf and carefully drawing out a text to look at it, on the third shelf down about midway through.

“This one is Bartholomew Lamont of the HMS Dragon.” Karen slid it back carefully. “So we should be close. They really need to put letters on the shelf to give a researcher an idea of where to look.”

“I believe they change things out a little too often for that.” Daniel crouched and began to look through books in the section that Karen motioned to. “And it doesn’t take much to figure out where you’re at. Draw a couple out and you’re in the right location.”

Karen took the other side and worked toward him. “Maybe we should have hit the natural history museum first, especially if they have journals.”

“When and if we have to go there, you’ll see that they’ve got a lot of books. If we had to pour through those, we’d be there for a very long time.” Daniel hesitated a moment. “I found a book by Roberts.”

“Like… the pirate?” Karen looked over hopefully.

“No, his name was Timothy Roberts… worked on a fishing schooner.” Daniel smiled at her enthusiasm. “So you’re a pirate girl, are you?”

“Hmm? No, I… well, I’ve got a passing interest. You know, seen all the movies… read some books… watched the movies again.”

“Ah, a fan of the genre.” Daniel moved on with the books. “I believe they have a rather large section of pirate fare here. You should come back sometime and delve in.”

“I might.” Karen flushed. “It’s just… you know, a guilty pleasure.”

“I know all about them.” Daniel paused again. “Desmond Reilly… 1712. That can’t be a coincidence. I think I found the family’s section here.”

The shop had two bedrooms nestled away in the back. He set her up in the small one he never used and did his best to make her comfortable. Will she wake up while I’m gone? I don’t want her to panic because she’s in some strange place. He penned a quick note and left it by the bed. I hope that helps… And I won’t be gone that long.

Daniel left, locking the front door behind him and hopping in Karen’s car. The engine roared to life and he took a deep breath, considering his next course carefully. They had to get to the bottom of what was going on but he couldn’t risk Karen again. At least in the shop she’d be safe.

What if there’s something out there that you can’t handle? He asked himself. What happens to her then?

That concern had to be shelved. There wasn’t any time for extreme caution. There were answers to be found but they required some risk. Daniel felt resolve return to him and he put the car in “Drive”. At least the trip wouldn’t take very long.

He was fairly certain he knew where James McKellan had lived—the description that Andrea gave could only be one of a couple places. Someone owned the house that he was heading to but it was not currently occupied. He was certain that there wasn’t going to be easy access to the lab but he could at least see what obstacles needed to be overcome.

Andrea wasn’t just any spirit. Daniel hadn’t seen her sort of power for ages and even back then, demons were involved. After years of dealing with the supernatural, Daniel was surprised to admit that he had seemingly encountered something new.

And that created more questions. What else could this spirit do? Why was she compelling Karen instead of asking her to do things? What was her real motivation?
 

After ensuring that I was encased from shoulders to ankles like a mummy, I wriggled my arm free to drain the water. When I heard it tumbling down the drain, I wandered out of my bedroom and down the hall to the nearest guest room. It hadn’t been used in a while, but the last time the maid was over, she had changed the bedding.

I cranked on the heat and crawled under the blankets naked. Pajamas were an extra effort I was way too tired to indulge. When I closed my eyes, my breathing fell into a heavy rhythm moments later. Sleep danced on the edges of my conscious mind, casually closing in until I drifted off.

A surreal landscape opened before me and for the first time I could ever remember, I knew I was dreaming. Most of the time I simply accepted whatever oddity my brain threw my way, but now I felt like an intruder in my own subconscious, a voyeur who shouldn’t be seeing the things presented to me.

I saw a tempest brewing on the horizon and off to the right, a violent sea thrashed like a restless monster rousing from a long sleep. Dusty rocks surrounded me, the jagged edges bit into my bare feet. I was naked in these elements, the breeze tickling my skin, but it wasn’t cold enough to make me miserable.

I knew I should’ve put on pajamas.

A man came out of the storm, walking with a stiff, proud gait. He was armed with a wicked looking sword, which he held in his right hand, the tip pointed away from him. The blade was longer than my leg with a serrated top and curved edge.

He was still a silhouette, but I could make out some details. His body was covered by piecemeal plate armor. The left shoulder had a massive spiked pad where the other was bare. Boots came high and covered the knees in the front while wrapping low around the sides.

His long hair was caught up in the wind, flowing to the side like he was a living fantasy painting.

Wait, why is he coming this way?

It would take him some time to get to me, but what happens when he got here? That nasty looking weapon was not designed for cuddling. Was it meant for me or some other purpose?

Self-preservation suggested that waiting around to find out was a bad plan. I turned to flee and stopped so suddenly, I nearly toppled off the cliff behind me. The chasm yawned before me, the bottom lost to a swirling mist some dozens of yards down.

Why the hell is my dream so inconvenient?

I turned around to see how much progress my potential attacker had made and let out an involuntary scream.

He was standing three feet in front of me.

 

“What chance is there in talking to you?” I asked. “Other than a need to have my head examined for entertaining some crazy guy who won’t take, go away, for an answer.”

“Are you asking me to go away?” He tilted his head curiously. “Or is that just something you think you should say? We’re wasting time. You could be asking a lot more interesting questions.”

“Fine, how do you know my father?” I lifted my finger. “Be careful how you answer that. If I don’t like your answer, you’re out of here.”

His grin turned sinister and it made me take a step back. I could sense that he was suggesting there was no way that security was going to be leading him anywhere. For the first time since I encountered him, I lost all my indignation and became alarmed. Perhaps he was more dangerous than I gave him credit.

“Very well,” Ian replied. “I knew your father before you were born. He was on the opposite side of a mutual disagreement. When he met your mother, everyone figured that he was out of the game, but someone decided that it didn’t matter. After you were conceived, one of us took advantage of his weakness and that’s why you didn’t get to know him.”

“Are you saying that someone hurt my father?”

“I’m saying someone murdered him.”