Secret Unleashed by Dean Sierra

Author:Dean, Sierra [Dean, Sierra]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Urban, Paranormal & Urban, Literature & Fiction
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2013-10-15T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Stop looking.”

I was alone in the dark, unable to see anything. My nighttime eyesight worked a lot like night-vision goggles in that I could see but only if there was some small spark of light to begin with. If the darkness was complete, I was blind.

I stood still, unwilling to move in case I ran into anything unpleasant or accidentally found myself on the edge of a bottomless pit. Who knew what lurked in the darkness?

Nothing moved or gave me any indication someone was with me, but still the voice said, “Stop looking.”

Shivers rocked me hard, like I’d been plunged into a vat of icy water and quickly removed. “Hello?” Holding my hand out in front of me, I hoped to feel something, but my fingers grasped at empty space.

“You won’t find what you’re after.” The voice was masculine, not a common thing for my dreams, unless you counted the ones where I was naked with Holden. But this wasn’t a fun dream. I wasn’t totally sure it was a dream.

Did I remember falling asleep? No. Nothing felt real here, and I struggled to keep one foot planted in reality.

“How do you know what I’m looking for?” My voice echoed back at me, though what it had hit to create the echo, I didn’t know. The air was so heavy I wanted to sit down, but I didn’t dare. I still didn’t know where I was or what was around me. Dream or not, I didn’t feel like plunging to my death.

“You want what I was looking for. Stop.”

That male voice was unfamiliar, yet somehow I knew it. “Sutherland?”

“I know what you’re doing. You have to stop.”

“I’m looking for you.”

“Stop.”

“No.” I shook my head in case he could see me. “I have to find you.”

“Because they want me back? It’s not worth it, girl. I’m not worth it. What you find…just stop looking.” His voice grew distant for a moment and then loud again, the way a phone with a bad connection might.

“I found the key.”

“It unlocks a cabinet of horrors.” Again his voice faded out, only now he sounded tired. “Don’t go.”

Was this my dream or his? We shared blood, so it was possible for us to communicate this way, but it hadn’t happened before. In all my twenty-three years he’d never slipped into my head, nor me into his. What had changed? Was it proximity, or desperation? And whose need had made it happen?

“Where are you?”

“I’m with The Doctor. Stop looking. Stop.”

“What doctor?”

“The Doctor. Don’t unlock the door. He knows you’re looking. You have to go home.”

I stood still, frozen in place. What was he talking about? What doctor? This dream infuriated me in new ways because it wasn’t similar to any I’d ever had. It wasn’t vague in a symbolic way; it was just vague enough to be annoying.

“Sutherland, I need to find you.”

The darkness flickered and was replaced with a dimly lit corridor. On either side, illuminated by individual yellow lights, was a series of doors.

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