The Hollow Page 0,13

summer day but sing and wing.

Yes, he knew his way here, knew the sounds here, knew even the feel of the air in every season, for he had walked here in every season. Melting summers, burgeoning springs, brisk autumns, brutal winters. So he recognized the chill in the air when it crawled up his spine, and the sudden change of light, the gray tinge that wasn't the simplicity of a stray cloud over the sun. He knew the soft growl that came from behind, from in front, and choked off the music of the chickadees and jays.

He continued to walk the path to Hester's Pool.

Fear walked with him. It trickled along his skin like sweat, urged him to run. He had no weapon, and in the dream didn't question why he would come here alone, unarmed. When the trees-denuded now-began to bleed, he kept on. The blood was a lie; the blood was fear.

He stopped only when he saw the woman. She stood at the small dark pond, her back to him. She bent, gathering stones, filling her pockets with them.

Hester. Hester Deale. In the dream he called out to her, though he knew she was doomed. He couldn't go back hundreds of years and stop her from drowning herself. Nor could he stop himself from trying.

So he called out to her as he hurried forward, as the growling turned to a wet snicker of horrible amusement.

Don't. Don't. It wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault.

When she turned, when she looked into his eyes, it wasn't Hester, but Layla. Tears streaked her face like bitter rain, and her face was white as bone.

I can't stop. I don't want to die. Help me. Can't you help me?

Now he began to run, to run toward her, but the path stretched longer and longer, the snickering grew louder and louder. She held out her hands to him, a final plea before she fell into the pool, and vanished.

He leaped. The water was viciously, brutally cold. He dove down, searching until his burning lungs sent him up to gulp in air. A storm raged in the woods now, wild red lightning, cracking thunder, sparking fires that engulfed entire trees. He dove again, calling for Layla with his mind.

When he saw her, he plunged deeper.

Once again their eyes met, once again she reached for him.

She embraced him. Her mouth took his in a kiss that was as cold as the water. And she dragged him down to drown.

HE WOKE GASPING FOR AIR, HIS THROAT RAW AND burning. His chest pounded with pain as he fumbled for the light, as he shoved up and over to sit on the side of the bed and catch his laboring breath.

Not in the woods, not in the pond, he told himself, but in his own bed, in his own apartment. As he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes he reminded himself he should be used to the nightmares. He and Cal and Gage had been plagued by them every seven years since they'd turned ten. He should be used, too, to pulling aspects of the dream back with him.

He was still chilled, his skin shivering spasmodically over frigid bones. The iron taste of the pool's water still coated his throat. Not real, he thought. No more real than bleeding trees or fires that didn't burn. Just another nasty jab by a demon from hell. No permanent damage.

He rose, left the bedroom, crossed his living room, and went into the kitchen. He pulled a cold bottle of water out of the fridge and drank half of it down as he stood.

When the phone rang, he felt a fresh spurt of alarm. Layla's number was displayed on the caller ID. "What's wrong?"

"You're okay." Her breath came out in a long, jerky whoosh. "You're okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I... God, it's three in the morning. I'm sorry. Panic attack. I woke you up. Sorry."

"You didn't wake me up. Why wouldn't I be okay, Layla?"

"It was just a dream. I shouldn't have called you."

"We were at Hester's Pool."

There was a moment of silence. "I killed you."

"As attorney for the defense, I have to advise that's going to be a hard case to prosecute, as the victim is currently alive and well and standing in his own kitchen."

"Fox-"

"It was a dream. A bad one, but still a dream. He's playing on your weakness, Layla." And mine, Fox realized, because I want to save the girl. "I can come over. We'll-"

"No,