Page 27 of Sigils & Spells

DARK DREAMS

Sassa Daniels

CHAPTER1

Cait

The momentI sense his presence, my skin starts to tingle. He’s here in my room, the man whose face I’ve never seen. Concealing his identity with the hood of his cloak pulled low, he emerges from the shadows. With slow, deliberate steps, he prowls toward the bed. There’s time to get away, to run for the door, but I’m transfixed. Helpless to react, I lie there, perfectly still, as the mattress dips. He slides the sheet down my body, inch by inch, exposing me to his burning gaze.

A cool breeze whispers over my skin, but that’s not what sends the shiver skittering down my spine. It’s his hand grasping my ankle, then slowly drifting upward. His touch is firm, possessive. He acts as if he owns me. Though I fear what he might do, I don’t try to flee. I can’t, because some depraved part of me wants this, to be taken by the monster in the dark.

As afraid as I am, I still revel in his touch. His fingers continue their exploration and my pussy clenches in anticipation. Against all reason, I wriggle my hips, impatient for his touch.

“Shh, little one,” he whispers mockingly. “All in good time.”

A moan slips from my throat as he cups my feminine mound. He comes over me and I shudder as his lips press against mine. He claims my mouth in a kiss that has nothing to do with affection. It’s a brutal statement of intent. He’s going to make me his.

I don’t know this man, but I sense the darkness in him. He’s dangerous, a predator who’s not of the mortal world. He has me in his grasp, but I don’t even try to get away. His hand wraps around my throat, and my pulse rate spikes. He doesn’t squeeze, just rests his hand there to let me know he could choke me if he wanted to.

Fear courses through my veins as he comes closer to whisper words I’ve heard a hundred times before.

“Surrender to me, Cait. You’re mine.”

I wake with a start, hands shaking and brow sweating. As I try to sit forward, something pulls me back. At first I think it’s him, trying to drag me back into the dream. Then I realize it’s just my seatbelt. Heat rises to my cheeks as I remember I’m in a car and I’m not alone. There’s a driver up front and my English professor, Val Barton, is in the back seat next to me.

“I’m sorry.” I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t usually fall asleep like that.”

“It’s okay, sweetie.” She reaches over to give my knee a reassuring squeeze. Her overly familiar manner makes me uncomfortable but I don’t want to offend her by asking her to stop with the cutesy names and the touchy-feely stuff. She’s just one of those people who’s open with her affections. “It’s been a long drive, but your journey is almost at an end.”

Why your journey and not our journey? Something about her wording seems off to me, but I don’t give it much thought. She often puts things in ways I wouldn’t. I suppose it’s what happens when you spend your life studying books. You pick up different ways of saying things. Despite having a few odd little quirks or perhaps because of them, Val is the most popular member of the Arts and Humanities Faculty at Barnham University.

A pretty woman, with ageless features and a glowing complexion, she has an ethereal quality to her. It’s impossible to guess how old she is, but the pure white hair flowing down her back suggests she’s closer to the end of her career than the beginning. It’ll be a loss to the university when she eventually retires. She’s one of those professors whose classes are always full. People are drawn to her. She insists students call her by her first name, invites them to sumptuous dinners at her house and organizes weekends away, like the one we’re embarking on now.

Although eight of us are supposed to attend this writing retreat in Scotland, I’m the only one who was given the honor of accompanying Val on the journey. The others will be joining us tomorrow. Val said she wanted to spend a little one-on-one time with me. I’m not sure why I was singled out for special treatment, but I hope no-one resents me for it. Fitting in at college hasn’t been easy for me. My shyness has always been a barrier to making friends. The last thing I need is to be alienated because a professor decided to give me some extra attention.

I turn to look out of the window, but can see nothing. Pressing my nose to the glass, I screw up my eyes, trying to glimpse something through the fog. I understand now why they call it pea soup. The fog is so dense, it’s completely impenetrable. We must be passing houses, trees, fields, but there’s not a single feature visible. There’s nothing out there but a swirling gray mass.

“I can’t see a thing,” I grumble.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get there in one piece. Angus assures me he knows these roads well.”

“Angus?”

Val nods toward the front of the car, to the dark-haired driver who hasn’t uttered a single word since he picked us up at the airport. Val must have struck up a conversation with him while I was asleep.

“Now, tell me, sweetie, did you have another of your strange dreams?”

I stare at her for a moment, bewildered. Another of my strange dreams? I don’t recall mentioning to her that my sleep has been disturbed by unsettling visions. It’s not something I want to discuss with her in any case, so I lie.

“Uh, no, I have no idea what I was dreaming about.”

Pursing her lips, she studies my face for a moment. She doesn’t believe me. A frown pulls her eyebrows down into a deep V. I don’t know why it matters to her if I was dreaming or not but the harsh scowl on her face tells me it does. I fidget with the button on my coat as her scrutiny makes me uncomfortable. Then, suddenly, she shakes off her disapproval, smiling as the car rolls to a stop with gravel crunching beneath its tires.

“We’re here.”

My first impression as I get out of the car is that Dunshee House is a bleak, lonely place. Though I can’t see what lies around us, I sense the desolation. Ordinarily, I might blame the fog for instilling this strange feeling of doom in me, but it isn’t that. There’s something frightening about this place. Bad things have happened here. I know it in my soul.

Instinct tells me to go back to the car and ask Angus to take me as far from here as possible, but my rational mind tells me I’m being ridiculous. The arduous journey and my restive sleep have put me on edge. As Val comes to stand beside me, I remember once more than I am not alone. I need to get a grip before I start to look foolish.

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