on the very edge of her wits, even though she knew she lied.
“You can do this.” She rubbed her temples. “Just see it through. A little bit longer.”
Exhaustion pushed closer and she welcomed it. A few minutes, maybe. Just a few minutes to relax . . . But even as some of the tension started to drain away, one of those fragmented nightmares snaked in, tried to pull her under. The blackness tried to surround her, grabbing at her—gasping for air, she threw it off and stumbled upright.
“Not now,” she whispered.
Water . . . closing over her head . . .
You have to get away from him—
That memory flash, the one that made no sense, danced through her head, the man’s voice getting louder, louder with each refrain until it was a shriek inside her head. Groaning, she squeezed her eyes closed, tried to block it out.
Couldn’t breathe . . .
Get away—
“I’m going mad,” she said. “Stark, raving mad.”
Here she was, dealing with a psychotic son of a bitch, and instead of thinking that through, she was dealing with dreams and flashes of drowning, while her mind played back warnings of that voice. You have to get away from him—
Him? Him, who? Patrick? Oh, she knew that.
Yes. The logical thing was to get the hell away from him—she was more and more afraid that he was going to kill her. She knew he would if he found out what she was up to. Is that what the nightmares were? Some new manifestation of her ability or something? A warning?
Bugger all. She didn’t need a warning.
“What am I supposed to do? Just walk away?”
Not an option.
She owed those girls. Their screams.
They haunted her. Every time he touched her, she heard those screams. And it got worse. He’d hurt so many people, ruined so many lives.
If she walked, they’d haunt her, every moment for the rest of her life. It wasn’t going to happen.
So if the nightmares were some nebulous warning, they could just shut their nebulous ass up.
Looking up at the sky, she mentally squared her shoulders. And damn if she’d sit here, feeling sorry for herself. She’d come here to get away from him, to try and breathe away from the stifling presence of his ever-watchful eyes, those bloody cameras. She’d damn well try to enjoy herself while she was at it.
She’d have herself a slice or two of pizza.
She’d ride some rides.
It was Disney World, for pity’s sake.
She could find a way to have a bit of fun.
TEN
"THE happiest place on earth.” Joss stood in the middle of Main Street USA, looking all around and trying to figure out just what he’d gotten himself into.
The one good thing—Jillian hadn’t lied to him when she’d said she had control.
She had it in spades. Once he’d adjusted to the sync, gotten that badly needed sleep and a solid meal, he’d acclimated enough to imagine that door she used. He shut it down tight, and then he went the extra step . . . every damn body had a door, one that led to their mind, and he shut those doors as well, leaving him in the blissful silence of his own mind.
Granted, it didn’t do anything for the occasional icy chill of a ghost’s touch, their calls, but he could deal with those. People died, and when they died before their time, they left echoes. He didn’t like it, but he had to concern himself with saving the ones who were still alive, so he moved the ghosts down on his list. He was good at compartmentalizing.
Now . . . if he could just figure out what in the hell he was doing in Disney World.
What had led him here . . . well, there was that dream. A mere figment, a blind hope.
And instinct.
Actually, instinct wasn’t a bad thing to rely on, he told himself, forcing himself to take a step after he saw one of the photographers flash a smile in his direction.
Oh, no. Did he really look like he wanted to pose in front of that stupid castle?
Hands jammed in his pockets, he headed down the strip, no particular destination in mind. As a tiny little girl—dressed in a wide-skirted dress of sunny yellow—cut in front of him, he almost tripped over his feet to keep from tripping over her. Geez, what did she have on her feet, rockets?
Her mother came running out of a store after her, and automatically, Joss took a step to cut the child