Chapter 30

Kayla had to actually go to her own house that afternoon, having promised to help her father with an unspecified 'experiment', and they'd decided to return to Mark's house, so it was just the two of them. Kristen spent most of the evening catching up on tons and tons of homework, though not without time out for Mark to make her glow.

After one such break, he carried her to the couch and left her there with her books while he went into the kitchen to cook dinner. There was no door between the kitchen and the living room, just an archway, so he was able to talk to her while he chopped vegetables, and wasn't paying that much attention to the peppers he was slicing, when suddenly the knife caught, like it had hit something hard.

He looked down, and the pepper was gone. In its place was a human hand, the knife half-severing a finger, pressed hard against the bone, and the table was awash with blood.

Mark dropped the knife and jumped back, eyes wide, and the ghastly vision disappeared, leaving everything perfectly normal. He stared at the place, shaking, but the pepper remained a pepper. The knife remained free of blood. He swallowed, then walked over to lean on the doorway. "Um, love? Would you object to just having sandwiches tonight?"

"Of course not, Mark." She looked at him worriedly. "What's wrong? Do you want me to cook dinner?"

He shook his head. Then, still shaken, he sat down beside her and told her what he'd just seen.

"Oh god..." She wrapped her arms around him, sounding sick. "Let's just skip dinner."

He saw no reason to object to that suggestion, and they curled up on the couch together. She closed her eyes, obviously tired, but didn't suggest they move to the bed. After the dreams, he didn't really want to do so, either, so when she eventually fell asleep against him, he just closed his eyes and lay back, perfectly content to sleep where they were.

The nightmares found him anyway.

He holds a knife, and a woman's naked body lies beneath him. He feels nothing but lust; intense, overwhelming, mind-controlling lust, but twisted and ugly, full of anger and hatred. He watches as his shaking hand starts to trail the knife over her skin, gently at first, then pressing harder and harder, until the blood began to flow in crimson streaks on her pale white skin.

Kristen's screams jerked him awake.

He sat up, his heart racing, and she screamed again. Her body was unnaturally rigid against him, her hands stretched above her head, as if they were tied there. She jerked, then screamed again, the sound full of pain and despair.

He pulled her hands down and shook her. "Wake up!"

Her eyes flew open, wide with fear, and she jerked away from him, shuddering. "Are you okay, love?" he asked, and she started to tremble uncontrollably, staring at him.

"Mark! God ... you--" She squeezed her eyes closed and wrapped her arms around herself, still shaking hard.

A sickening suspicion twisted his gut. "What is it, love?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It ... it was just a dream. I don't want to think about it." But she still wouldn't open her eyes, wouldn't look at him, and she hadn't moved back into his arms.

"Tell me what happened?" he asked softly.

She was shivering so hard her teeth were chattering. "It was ... a lot like before. But ... oh Mark!" She looked up at him, green eyes full of pain, and started to cry. "It was you! It was you hurting me, cutting me."

He felt sick, but he had to know. "Cutting you ... how?"

"W-with a knife. It ... it started so light, just running it over my skin, but you didn't stop and it got deeper and deeper and your face ... the look on your face..." She sobbed, and shook her head, unable to continue as tears streamed down her cheeks.

He was deathly pale. "I think ... I think I had the same dream. From the other viewpoint."

"What do you think it means?" she whispered.

He shook his head. "I ... I don't know. Maybe Kayla would have an idea."

She reached out, fingertips brushing his arm. "You wouldn't hurt me. I know you wouldn't." She looked up into his eyes, and asked in a frightened little girl voice, "Would you?"

He pulled her into his arms, gathering her close. "No! Never!" He buried his face in her hair, his hands running up and down her back. "Unless you were someone who liked pain, a masochist. I guess I would, then, because there's no way I could deny you something you wanted. But you aren't. And even if you were, I'd never hurt you. Never."

She shuddered, nestling closer to him. "How could anyone like pain? Pain hurts!"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I never understood it, either, but some people do."

"I'll never understand people."

Her trembling had eased, and he relaxed gratefully. "Nope," he said, "That's what makes them so fascinating."

She kissed his shoulder. "Let's go ahead and get up. I can't stand the thought of going back to sleep."

He glanced at the clock, which read 3:13, then looked down at her. There were dark circles under her eyes, visible even beneath the soft glow of her skin. He shook his head. "You need to sleep, love. You really do."

"I can't," she said. "I really can't. I'm scared."

He wrapped his arms around her. "Do you want to go over to your dad's and sleep there?"

She swallowed hard, then shook her head. "No ... it doesn't seem to matter where we are, really. The dreams still find me."

"I don't know then," he said. "You need to sleep. Are you having these every time you sleep?"

She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Tuesday night I didn't."

"Okay," he said thoughtfully. "What was different about Tuesday night?"

She blushed. "Well, Kayla came over, and we had a lot of sex."

"Hmm. I wonder if it was the sex, or Kayla?"

"That was the night I fell asleep while both of you were with me," she said.

"Hmmmm ... Do you want to call her, and ask her if you can spend the night?" he asked. "Yeah, it's late, but I know she'd understand."

She shook her head again. "No, I don't want to get her in trouble with her family. I'll be okay. I really don't need much sleep."

He frowned. "Love, you do need your sleep."

"Please, Mark? Please? Just tonight?"

"But love, it's three a.m."

"That's just two and a half hours earlier than I usually get up," she said. "I'll be quiet, I promise."

He shook his head. "It's not that. You need the sleep. You're still healing. Hmm. I don't think you've ever had these dreams when you were really glowing." He sighed. "But by the time we could make you glow that much, it would be time to get up anyway. Alright, love. Just this once. But you stay right here with me, okay?"

She shivered. "Trust me, I'm in no hurry to leave your side. I'll just lay here and read, okay?"

He nodded and she cuddled up to him as he closed his eyes again.

It seemed like no time at all before she was kissing him awake. "C'mon, get up! You said I could go back to school today. Up!"

He smiled despite the crick in his neck and his cramped muscles. Her bounciness was infectious. "Okay, love."

She was good on the crutches, balancing easily. When he looked closely, he could tell that she was using her hovering ability to assist her rather than moving completely naturally, but only because he knew what to look for. She was happy and had way, way more energy than anyone who'd got up at three in the morning ought to have, and her happy giggles echoed through the house as they got ready.

The mood at school was a marked contrast, though. People were close to panic, with everyone looking at everyone else suspiciously, and no one going anywhere alone. The houses that had been marked the night before had all had 'presents' left on their doorsteps that morning -- dismembered household pets, one of which was a cat that never left the house.

"Ugh," Kristen whispered to him after Kayla filled them in on the gossip. "It's never got this bad before Halloween before."

He grimaced. "Frankly, I'd like to get you a couple hundred miles away from here, if I could. Be careful, love, please."

"I will. Promise."

He watched her unhappily as she maneuvered the crutches through the crowded hall.

It actually turned out to be a fairly calm day. The students were quite reserved, particularly for a Friday. There was some talk of the Fall Festival that was coming up in a couple of weeks, and several of his students were on the planning committee and so ended up late to class after lunch. It was also a gloomy, cloudy day, and Mark fought a headache the entire time he was at work, but his mood was brightened up a bit by Kayla going home with them at the end of the day to spend the night.

Kristen was exhausted by the time they left, and kept yawning and nodding off in the car on the drive home.

He took them into the living room and pulled them down to sit on the couch as soon as they got home. "Kayla, we've got a problem," he said bluntly. "Kristen and I are having horrible nightmares, every night -- but we didn't have them on Tuesday night. And the only difference then was that you and I made love to her until she was glowing like a torch."

Kristen sighed and nodded agreement. "That's all I can think of, anyway. And I really am tired. I kept falling asleep in English this morning."

"Shit," Kayla said, with a sigh. "Okay. How much have you read of Buckland's?"

"Not a lot, yet," Mark admitted. "Why?"

"Well, if her glow keeps the nightmares away, then maybe it's acting like a kind of natural shield. If they really are coming from an outside source, that is."

"Why am I having them, too, then?" he asked. "Mine are not the same as hers."

"Different sources, maybe. Or just a different point of view. And if you're sleeping with her, if she's glowing brightly enough, it would protect you, too."

"Okay, that makes sense," he said. "So we need to keep her 'charged up' so to speak."

Kayla shook her head. "Actually, I was thinking of something different." She looked away, fidgeting nervously.

"Oh?" he asked.

"Um. I was thinking you could do unnaturally what her glow does naturally," she said hesitantly. "Try building a shield."

"Umm ... okay, how do we do that?" he asked.