was thinking about cookies? I could even smell ginger and cinnamon, almost blurring the pain of teeth digging into my skin. Something warm dropped into my hand, pulling my focus. Laying right by my palm was a gingerbread man, perfectly painted in a green sweater, a tag on him read “Eat me.”
“Eat it now, Dinah,” the man’s voice commanded me, calm and soothing.
My mind wanted to dwell on why I chose a cookie to hallucinate about, but a deep instinct had me shoving the cookie in my mouth. If I were going to die, the taste of the sweet bread was the perfect final bite, the cookie melting on my tongue, warm, soft, and bursting with flavor.
Santa’s elf, it’s good.
From far away, I swore I heard the roar of a bear belting into the night, but nothing made sense anymore. I was in the place between awake and sleep. My eyes closed, and I let my end come.
Darkness engulfed me, and suddenly I was falling.
My body tumbling and twisting…
Down.
Chapter 10
“Dinah?”
My eyes were open, but nothing made any sense. Shadows clung to my eyes. Things grabbed for me; the feeling of my body being attacked and bitten had me swinging and crying out. “No. Get off me. Stop!”
“Dinah?”
I continued to strike out, my hands hitting something, but it only pumped my heart faster, terror shrieking through my body like a banshee. “No! Get away!”
“Dinah, stop! It’s me.” A hand gripped my bicep hard, a face coming even with mine. The blanket of confusion started to disperse, understanding settling in. I blinked, staring at the familiar face, but for some reason, I felt even more lost—like it wasn’t the person I was expecting to see.
Or wanted, a voice deep down whispered in my ear.
“Hey, babe, you’re okay. Breathe.” Scott squatted down in front of me, rubbing my arms. “It was just a bad dream.”
Dream?
“You okay?” He brushed hair off my face, his expression contorted in worry.
“Ye-yeah.” I nodded, though I felt anything but. I peered around our bedroom. I was tucked in the corner next to the dresser, still dressed in my costume, shaking and feeling dirty and sweaty.
“Scared the crap out of me.” He blew out, sitting back on his heels. “Woke me up, screaming. Did you fall asleep on the couch?”
“I-I must have.” Anxiety corded around my throat, my mind not remembering anything past vacuuming Santa’s Workshop. Not driving home or walking in—but I recalled being somewhere else—it was murky, like wisps of fog. I sensed images and voices dancing on the edges, slipping through my fingers.
“You sounded as if you were being attacked.” He rubbed his face. “Kept screaming something about chipmunks and frost?”
“What?” My head jerked up like an arrow pierced through the haze.
Frost?
Chipmunks?
“Sounded totally insane.” He laughed, kissing my forehead, standing up. “Get too much secondhand smoke from Gabe?”
“Gabe wasn’t there.”
Scott didn’t hear me. Scratching his pale, untoned stomach, yawning noisily, he headed for the bathroom. “I’ve got to get some sleep; early day tomorrow.”
He left the door open as he peed, then staggered back to the bed and flopped down.
“You coming to bed?” he muttered, tucking back into his pillow.
“Yeah.” I nodded, but couldn’t seem to move, my stomach rolling with fear. How could I not remember getting home?
Scott’s even breathing filled the room. He could fall asleep in a minute. His ease and comfort in the world flicked envy through me. He was so sure of his safety, while I clung and clawed at the walls of sanity, trying to keep them up.
“Then let go. You belong here with me anyway.” A man’s voice went through my head, my heart pounding. A glimmer of blond hair, chiseled jaw, and a sun-soaked face with a happy smile floated in my memory.
I bit my lip, tasting sugar and cinnamon, a sudden flash of a gingerbread cookie hitting me in the chest. Did I eat a cookie earlier? I must have…
Inhaling, I drew my knees to my chest, my fingers curling around my legs. The fabric covering them was ripped and crusty. A thud drummed in my ears as the pads of my fingers trailed over a dozen bumps and bruises on the back of my calves.
Chipmunks.
Attacking.
Bolting up, I darted for the bathroom, flicking on the light. I stared at the girl looking back. My hair was slightly wavy and wild, cheeks flushed, my eyes glistening like I had a fever.
I looked alive. Grimy and gross, but vibrant.
My costume was filthy with dirt…and sand. My hand brushed at