Someone grabbed her by the arm and she shrieked. Something inside her reflexively lashed out and she was aware of a sensation like fire blazing through her body, its sizzle banishing the cold as a wave of heat pulsed outward from her center.
Marcy screamed and jerked her hand away, shaking it like a person who has touched a scalding surface. “Dream, that was fucked up. We have to get out of here before the mob comes back for you.”
Too late for that.
Several people were still leaning over the railing on the opposite side of the bridge. One woman was slumped against the concrete barrier and wailing like a grief-stricken mourner at a funeral. The impression formed like a cold fist around her heart and the heat pulse abruptly fizzled out.
Dream swallowed a lump in her throat and thought, Oh, no…
Three men were striding rapidly back across the bridge toward her. The man in the lead was thirtyish, tall and muscular with a thick mop of curly brown hair and a beard. His eyes were dark with a bottomless rage. Every aspect of his bearing unmistakably conveyed murderous intent. The rigid set of his features. The huge, curled fists that looked capable of slamming holes through layers of steel.
Dream shook her head.
Oh no. Ohnoohnoohno…
The girl had been real.
And this man was her father.
Dream’s eyes filled with tears as she took an unconscious step backward. Her back met the railing. She briefly considered letting herself fall backward into the water. It was what she deserved. Christ, how could she have been so wrong? She’d known her long-tenuous hold on reality had been slipping for some time, but she’d never imagined such tragic consequences. She’d murdered a child, sacrificed her on the altar of her crumbling sanity.
Yes, she deserved to die. She even felt ready to meet that fate at last.
Then the man was closing in on her, eyes blazing and teeth bared as he raised one of those big fists high in the air. Then something inside Dream flexed and the man froze. A surge of energy so strong it was nearly visible pushed outward and slammed into the man’s chest like a freight train, lifting him off his feet and blasting him back across the bridge. Dream saw his eyes go wide with shock before the surge carried him away. And then he was gone, flying over the railing on the opposite side and hanging suspended in midair for a moment before dropping to the water below.
Marcy let out a breath and said, “Holy shit. Holyholy-holy fucking shit!”
The men who’d followed the father across the bridge were lying flat on their backs, blown off their feet by the energy surge. They looked up at Dream with twin expressions of horror and began to scoot backward, scrambling to put as much distance between themselves and the monster as possible. That’s what they saw when they looked at her. A monster. Not a woman. Not a human being. But an incomprehensible abomination. A thing. And they were right.
The people on the other side of the bridge were looking at her and cringing, crouching down against the concrete barrier as they huddled together and awaited the monster’s wrath. A few of them were armed men of some authority in uniforms. But they were as helpless and terrified as the wailing woman Dream assumed was the dead girl’s mother. Dream stared at them for a long moment and felt the awakened energy burning inside her, aching to be utilized again. And it would be so easy. She could flatten them all and walk away from this place unscathed.
A weak, frightened voice next to her:“Dream…seriously…we have to leave.”
A peculiar smile contorted the corners of her mouth as Dream turned to look at Marcy. “I’m a monster, Marcy.”
Marcy put a hand to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. “Dream. I-”
“Shhh.” Dream touched the girl’s shoulder and felt her body go still. She was every bit as terrifed of her as the strangers huddled on the other side of the bridge. And who could blame her? “Don’t say anything. It’s funny. A minute ago I felt so much guilt, but this thing inside me burns that away when it’s working.” She lowered her voice a bit and leaned closer to Marcy. “I could kill all those people over there just by thinking about it. Part of me really wants to. I shouldn’t do that, should I?”
Marcy’s face twisted with a mixture of sudden grief and black humor. She laughed once, a small, empty sound. “Look who you’re asking. I’m a monster, too.”
Dream smiled. She released Marcy’s arm and touched her face. “Yes. Yes, I suppose you are. And I’ll tell you something, Marcy. I don’t think I hate you anymore.” She looked past Marcy at Alicia, who remained in the same spot she’d been throughout the episode. The dead woman watched them in a remotely curious way, a small smile playing at the edges of her mouth. Dream met and held Alicia’s gaze for a moment, then looked Marcy in the eye again. “I’m going to leave you now, but I’ll see you again.”
Marcy frowned. “Where are you going?”
“Into the water.”
Marcy’s expression abruptly sobered. “But-”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.” She gently stroked Marcy’s face and the gir l covered the hand with one of her own. “You’ve seen how strong I am. The river will take me away, but it won’t kill me. It’s the only way out of this for you. Too many eyes will be on me. You and Alicia go back to the van and your sister. Get away from here. I’ll find you again. I promise.”
She moved away from Marcy and threw one leg over the rail. She looked at the black water below and tried to decide whether she believed everything she’d just said. Then the energy swelled within her again and a shroud of warmth enveloped her.
She smiled again and said, “Go, Marcy. Now.”
Marcy stared numbly at her before nodding and beginning a retreat. “Okay…and, Dream?”
“Yeah?”
Marcy’s expression was somber as she said, “I don’t think I hate you anymore, either.”
Then she turned away and began a hurried retreat back down the bridge toward the parking lot. A moment later Alicia turned to follow without so much as a backward glance. Dream watched their backs until they dwindled to barely perceptible specks in the darkness.
Until they were gone.
Dream shot one more look at the people huddled at the other side of the bridge. One of the armed men was fumbling for his sidearm. Dream reached out with her power and made his hand freeze. She was getting better at controlling this thing by the moment. The knowledge was at once terrifying and exhilarating.
Dream swung her other leg over the railing.
Then she stood up and leaped, her arms spread before her as she’d envisioned earlier. She hung suspended in the air, flying for a single, incandescently glorious moment.
Next came the slap of the water against her body, harder than she expected.
Then the world was blackness and a cold deeper than anything she’d ever imagined as the water carried her away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The axe handle felt good in his hands. The muscles in his arms ached from the strain of his physical exertions, but it was a good ache. Chad was a man used to cool, air-conditioned offices and the soft comforts of a home in the suburbs. Physical labor in the so-called great outdoors had occurred only on rare occasions over the course of his thirty-four years on the planet. His thrice-weekly workouts had been confined to hip gyms filled with other trendy and pretty young professionals. Trim and toned bluebloods clad in fashionable workout outfits, iPods affixed to their bronzed biceps as they power-walked on treadmills that hummed with quiet efficiency. And always there had been the relaxing sauna afterward, not strictly necessary but an enjoyable reward for forty-five minutes worth of light maintenance working out.