Broken Illusions: A Midnight Dragonfly Novel by James Ellie

Author:James, Ellie [James, Ellie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2012-05-08T06:00:00+00:00

NINETEEN

Yes!

“Behind you,” I say. “Turn around—”

Slowly, she does, and the whitewashed blue of her eyes rips the breath from me.

Afraid, I realize. She’s terrified.

“It’s okay,” I rush to say. “I’m not going to hurt you.” But already she’s standing and grabbing the canvas, running for the back of the … restaurant?

Tables draped in white cloths sprawl in all directions.

“Come back!” But already she’s gone.

Confused, I step back, step back again, and for the first time see the sheet of glass that had been there all along, a see-through wall between us.

Slowly I lift my eyes, and see the elegant lettering in the darkest of purples: GASTON’S PLACE.

And everything goes dark.

“No!” I shouted, but already my eyes were opening and my room was coming into focus, the gauzy sheers blowing against my window, Delphi crouched beside me, her ears flat, the glow of the computer from across the bed.

Different, was all I could think. There’d been something different about the dream, as if I was a voyeur rather than a participant. Usually I lived what I saw. I touched and felt and ran. Held on and let go, whispered and screamed.

This time I’d been able to do nothing but watch.

“While we dream, messages are sent from our psyche in the astral, to our physical body.”

Julian’s words made me sit up straighter. A message, I realized. Someone had been sending me a message. Someone wanted me to know … something. But who? And what?

And most of all, why?

There was nothing to go on, nothing concrete—just a picture of a hawk flying over an ice cream shop, a girl painting, and—

Gaston’s Place.

Scrambling, I grabbed my laptop and fired up Google, my fingers flying as I keyed in the restaurant name.

And froze as I stared at the results:

Gaston’s Place

Belle Terre’s Best

Belle Terre, Louisiana

* * *

Detective LaSalle stood at the counter with a cup of coffee in his hands, watching me. And I would have sworn he knew. I would have sworn he knew just by looking at me that I’d had another dream.

“Hey,” I said, slinging my backpack over my shoulder as Aunt Sara stepped from her bedroom.

In a pair of tight black pants with a long, square-necked sweater in the brown of chocolate, she looked awesome. “Sleep well?” she asked.

I smiled. “Great.”

“Good.” She pulled me in for a half hug as we made our way toward her suitcases. “Remember what we talked about last night,” she said as Detective LaSalle came toward us. “And call Aaron if anything happens.”

Biting the inside of my lip, I nodded.

“Anything,” she emphasized.

“I will.” But not because of a dream—at least, not yet.

“You’ll be at Victoria’s, right?” he asked.

I nodded.

He studied me a long second before turning to reach for her suitcase.

Aunt Sara hugged me, holding on a few seconds longer than usual. “I’ll be home Sunday morning.”

I nodded again. “And I’ll be fine.”

We left together, Detective LaSalle and my aunt getting into his car, while I slid into my grandmother’s Buick for school.

I was halfway there when I made an abrupt U-turn.

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