The squeaking floor suddenly stops, as if my intruder is aware of my arrival. Time seems to slow as I stare at the door, waiting for something—anything—to happen. After several agonizing seconds, I find the strength to enter the kitchen.
I push open the door with such force it slams against the wall. Shaking, I stare into his eyes. He’s smiling, a deviant glare to his crimson irises.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to find me in here,” he says. His accent is thick, but I cannot place it.
Goose bumps prickle on my exposed arms, and I’m suddenly aware that I’m wearing pajamas. A too-sheer-for-comfort nightgown that flows against my frame each time I move.
My intruder is dressed in jeans, a dark T-shirt, and a jacket. When the microwave beeps, his floppy, curly brown hair sways as he turns around. When he faces me again, I’ve managed to take a few more steps toward him, and he’s holding a mug. My stomach pangs as the smell of freshly nuked blood wafts my way.
I lick my lips, daring a peek at his steaming drink, before our gazes meet again. His eyes are amused with me, and he holds out his breakfast, offering it to me. I shake my head, not stupid enough to drink something I didn’t make myself.
I was under the impression that I couldn’t be hurt while visiting the astral plane, so sustenance here should do nothing for my physical form. But I also believed I could only be visited by spirit witches, yet I stare into the eyes of a vampire. I’m beginning to wonder if everything I was taught before my transition was a lie.
“We don’t have much time,” he says.
His statement is a bit too ominous for my liking, so I take a few steps back until I’m safely beneath the doorframe. I make mental calculations, assuming I can outrun him to my body if needed.
In this form, I don’t have access to my vampire strength. After all, I’m nothing but a wisp. That should mean he doesn’t have access either. That is, if we’re playing fair, but I’ve never come across a fair playing field in Darkhaven.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, and then he takes a long, sloppy sip from his mug. I cringe as he slurps down blood, the sound radiating off my bones.
“Who are you?” I ask, voice cracking. I hate that I sound so nervous, so scared. I shouldn’t be afraid of him. He’s in my house.
“Will,” he says simply. He arches a brow as he takes another slurp of blood. When he sets down his mug, his teeth are stained pink.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice harder than before. Maybe I sound more courageous than I feel right now, and that’s a good thing. I don’t want him to know how terrified I am of the fact that he is in my astral visit.
“Looking for you,” Will says. He smiles, eyes glimmering in the low lighting.
My breath hitches. So he did come for me. What does that mean? If he wanted to hurt me, wouldn’t he have tried to already? If he can find my astral self, then surely he knows where my physical body is too.
“What was with the show earlier?” I ask, remembering the scratches at my door and the dancing light beneath it.
A sly grin creeps its way onto his face. “I wasn’t sure I could find you, and when I did, I thought I’d play a little game. After all, you only have one first encounter. I wanted ours to be memorable.”
“So you thought terrifying me was the way to go?” I don’t hide my annoyance. “How are you even here right now?”
While I wait for his answer, I think about the one question I should be asking: why was he looking for me? But I can’t ask that—not now. I’m worried his answer will be worse than our encounter.
“I admit it was in poor taste. I shouldn’t have scared you, but can you blame me?” Will says, laughing it off. He takes another sip of blood.
“Yes,” I say. I’m not sure why he’s even eating. Nothing in the astral plane is real, so that blood is providing no nourishment. It’s all an act—and he’s putting on a show for me. But why?
“So who are you?” I ask.
“I’m someone who likes to track special vampires—ones like you.”
A knot forms in my throat. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that he knows I’m different. Clearly I’m a witch. I mean, I’m in the astral plane, but my irises are crimson. He can tell I’m not just a witch.
“Why?” I ask. “And how did you get here?”
What do you want with me?
He attempts to take another sip of blood, but the mug disappears before it touches his lips. He frowns, gaze flickering from his hand to me.
“You’re waking up,” he says plainly.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. I’m not talking to him; I’m speaking to my physical self, the one that’s asleep in my bed. I need to convince myself not to wake up, if that’s even possible. I’m not ready to leave Will. I have too many unanswered questions. He can’t leave yet.
“Sadly, yes,” he says.
I blink, and he’s in front of me. He moved so fast, I didn’t even see the motion. One second he was by the microwave, and the next he was beside me.
I shriek and fall backward, moving so quickly my feet skid against the hardwood floor. My knees lock, and I’m falling. Only, I never reach the ground. Will snaps his arms forward, grabbing my wrists. He holds me firmly and pulls me toward him. The space between us is gone, and I feel his breath hot against my skin.
I shiver beneath his hard, cold gaze, my legs numb beneath me. If he were to let go, I would collapse to the ground in a sloppy heap.
He smiles, but something is off about it. It’s menacing, and his eyes glow.
I shake my head, unwilling to leave but not wanting to stay.
“Just tell me what you want,” I whisper.
“You.”
I shake, trying to pull away from him. He releases me, and I dash through the dining room, not looking back. I don’t listen for his footsteps because I don’t want to know how close he is to reaching me. I just need to make it to my body. I can sever my connection there, and I can leave the astral plane behind and never return.
“You can’t run away from me, Ava,” Will shouts. “I already found you. I know where you are.”
I take the steps two at a time, stumbling when I reach the top. I shimmy down the hall on my hands and knees until I find the strength to stand again.
When I reach my door, my palms are slick from sweat, and I hear him stomping up the stairs. I scream, wiping my hands on my nightgown, and slam my body against the door. It doesn’t budge, so I hit it again. By the time it finally opens, I see Will rounding the corner.
He shouts something at me just as I fall into my bedroom. I’m only feet away now.
I can do this. I can make it.
I crawl to my bed and rip through the sheer fabric enclosing my body. I shred lace, tearing through the web of mesh. It lands in heaps at my feet.
When I finally reach my body, I can see that my physical form is restless. Slowly, I am waking, and when I do, this will feel like a nightmare. I will have to convince myself it wasn’t. This is something more.
Will is standing in my doorway. The light from the hall glows around him, casting eerie shadows across his features. His face is dark, but I can see his smile, his glowing eyes.
I scream and grab on to my body.