The Hollow Page 0,14

no, I feel stupid enough calling you. It was just so real, you know?"

"Yeah, I do."

"I didn't think, I just grabbed the phone. All right, calmer now. We'll need to talk about this tomorrow."

"We will. Try to get some sleep."

"You, too. And Fox, I'm glad I didn't drown you in Hester's Pool."

"I'm pretty happy about that myself. Good night."

Fox carried the bottle of water back to the bedroom. There, he stood looking out the window that faced the street. The Hollow was quiet, and still as a photograph. Nothing stirred. The people he loved, the people he knew, were safe in their beds.

But he stood there, watchful in the dark, and thought about a kiss that had been cold as the grave. And still seductive.

"CAN YOU REMEMBER ANY OTHER DETAILS?" CYBIL wrote notes on Layla's dream as Layla finished off her coffee.

"I think I gave you everything."

"Okay." Cybil leaned back in the kitchen chair, tapped her pencil. "The way it sounds, you and Fox had the same dream. It'll be interesting to see if they were exact, or how the details vary."

"Interesting."

"And informative. You could've woke me, Layla. We all know what it's like to have these nightmares."

"I felt steadier after I'd spoken to Fox, and he wasn't dead." She managed a small smile. "Plus, I don't need to be shrink-wrapped to figure out that part of the dream was rooted in what we talked about last night. My fear of hurting one of you."

"Especially Fox."

"Maybe especially. I'm working for him, for now. And I need to work with him. You and I and Quinn, we're, well, fish in the same pool. I'm not as worried about the two of you. You'll tell Quinn about the dream."

"As soon as she's back from her workout. Since I assume she dragged Cal to the gym with her, she'll probably talk him into coming back here for coffee. I can tell them both, and someone will fill Gage in. Gage was a little rough on you last night."

"He was."

"You needed it."

"Maybe I did." No point in whining about it, Layla thought. "Let me ask you something. You and Gage are going to have to work together, too, at some point. How's that going to work?"

"I'll cross that bridge when. And I think we'll figure out a way to handle it without shedding each other's blood."

"If you say so. I'm going to go up and get dressed, get to work."

"Do you want a ride in?"

"No, thanks. The walk'll do me good."

Layla took her time. Alice Hawbaker would be manning the office, and there would be little to do. With Alice there, Layla didn't think it would be wise to huddle with Fox over a shared dream. Nor would it be the best time to have a lesson on honing and, more important to her, controlling her ability.

She'd handle busywork for a couple of hours, run whatever errands Alice might have on tap. It had taken her only a few days to understand the rhythm of the office. If she had any interest or aspirations toward managing a law office, Fox's practice would have been just fine.

As it was, it would bore her senseless within weeks.

Which wasn't the point, Layla reminded herself as she deliberately headed to the Square. The point was to help Fox, to earn a paycheck, and to keep busy.

She stopped at the Square. And that was another point. She could stand here, she thought, she could look at the broken or boarded windows straight-on. She could tell herself to face what had happened to her the evening before, promise herself she would do all she could to stop it.

She turned, started down Main Street to cover the few blocks to Fox's office.

It was a nice town if you just overlooked what happened to it, in it, every seven years. There were lovely old houses along Main, pretty little shops. It was busy in the way small towns were busy. Steady, with familiar faces running the errands and making the change at the cash registers. There was a comfort in that, she supposed.

She liked the wide porches, the awnings, the tidy front yards and bricked sidewalks. It was a pleasant, quaint place, at least on the surface, and not quite postcardy enough to make it annoying.

The town's rhythm was another she'd tuned to quickly. People walked here, stopped to have a word with a neighbor or a friend. If she crossed the street to Ma's Pantry, she'd be greeted by name, asked