Never-Ending Nightmare (AIR Book 5) Page 2

  "I want you to stay," Logan said. "That's the problem."

  "What? Why?"

  "Because you shouldn't be dealing with a nightmare."

  "Do you know what it is?"

  "I got an idea, yeah." He took off his hat and dropped it on the table. "I wasn't sure until I saw the pictures, but that's pretty damming evidence."

  "What is it?"

  "No one really knows for sure," Logan said. "I've heard stories on two different worlds about them. The name says it all. They are nightmares. They don't kill, mostly because they don't have to. They make you live out your worst nightmares until you either kill yourself or those around you—friends or family, it doesn't matter."

  "Have you ever seen one?"

  "Never. I'd rather run into another vampire than one of them. At least with a vampire they’re the ones doing the killing."

  "Boone wouldn't have asked for my help unless he really needed it."

  "I'm not too happy he's put you in this situation, but I understand. I shouldn't have gotten riled up over it. It sounds like we need to move quickly. I'll go see Kyrian."

  "You're coming?" I asked.

  "I said I didn't want you to go," Logan said, snatching his hat back up. "It sounds like just the tussle for me."

  "What about you?" I asked Rider as Logan left the room. "Are you sure you want to go? Vincent might be back in a couple of days."

  "Vincent will understand," Rider said.

  "Do you want to call him and let him know?" I asked.

  "You should call," Rider said. I opened my mouth to disagree, but Rider wouldn't let me. "Tell him I will be going with you." He hurried out of the room, not allowing me a chance to reply.

  I pulled out my phone and stared at it. It felt as though pixies were tying knots inside my chest. There was good reason for me to call now, though. I had an excuse. I forced myself to take a deep breath and then hit his contact icon.

  The phone rang several times before going to voicemail. I half expected it, but it depressed me all the same.

  I couldn't help but think that this was so unlike me. Sure, I liked Vincent, but I shouldn't let myself worry about what might or might not happen.

  "We're going out of town for an assignment," I said to the voicemail. "I don't know where we'll be or how long we'll be gone, and you won't be able to reach me. I'll talk to you when I get back."

  Short and simple. That was the way to go.

  I hung up the phone and tried to rearrange my attitude. Vincent was going to do whatever it was he was going to do. If he wanted to be with me, great. If not... well, life moves on.

  Logan brought Hank with us when we left, which came as a surprise. There was plenty of room in the truck for four, but Hank was our handler, so it seemed odd to have him in the work truck with us.

  By the time we got to my house, I was starting to realize that I had no idea what I was doing. "What should I pack?" I asked as I got out of the truck.

  "The usual," Logan said.

  "We work for an agency that monitors other dimensions and work with races that no one even knows exist,” I said. “There is no usual."

  Rider chuckled.

  "Layers," Hank suggested as I ushered them into the house. "Whenever you don't know where you're going, layers are good. In this case, though, Agent Boone said he'll have everything you need."

  A loud screech and a thump sounded from inside the house, followed by paws scrabbling across the floor. What looked like a large house cat ran into the room, its shrill voice ready to break eardrums.

  "What the hell is that?" Hank asked.

  Logan stepped between Hank and the oncoming flight of fur.

  "Molly, no!" I said, trying to sound stern. The truth was, she was so darn cute I had a hard time making any demands of her. Sure, she was an ichneu, a mythological animal that could slay a dragon, but it was hard to imagine her doing that. At least when she looked like this.

  Molly slowed and hopped up onto the back of the couch. She hissed at Hank. Beautiful wings, which most of the time went unnoticed, slowly spread out.

  "Hank, would you mind stepping carefully forward and holding out your hand for Molly to smell?" I asked.

  "What the hell is it?" Hank asked.

  "It's one of those off-the-record things we discussed," Logan said.

  "Molly is Gran's pet," I said. "She's an ichneu."

  Logan stepped aside, but Hank wasn't in a hurry to hold his hand out. Molly let out a low rumbling growl. Whenever she made that noise, I always wanted to look around for the much larger animal that must surely be making the sound.

  "Never heard of them," Hank said.

  "They're almost extinct. Think of her as a kind of a watchdog for Gran and me. Watch cat, rather."

  "A winged guard cat?" Hank very slowly moved his hand out.

  Molly hissed again and showed fangs.

  Hank froze.

  "It's okay," I said. And it was, as long as Gran or I was in the house. If it looked like someone was going to hurt one of us, however, Molly would spring into action. She was a gift from Gran's old boyfriend. It was sweet that he wanted to keep her safe. The man aggravated the hell out of me. He was crazy and I didn't trust him, but I trusted that he wanted to help Gran. It kept me safe at the same time, which was an unintentional side effect that he could live with.

  For a minute, I thought I was going to have to pick up Molly to introduce the two. She didn't like to be picked up while she was meeting someone for the first time, but I knew she’d let me.

  After a few moments, Hank moved closer again. Molly sniffed him, and then jumped off the back of the couch. She started circling Hank.

  "Do you want anything to drink?" I asked, heading toward the kitchen.

  "Am I allowed to move?" Hank asked.

  "She'll be done shortly," I said.

  Rider followed me into the kitchen while Logan stayed in the living room with Hank.

  I stopped short. "Gran? I didn't realize you were home."

  Gran stood in the kitchen staring into space.

  "Gran?" I called again.

  She didn't respond, but I wasn't going to try to interrupt her. Gran was a psychic. When she had a vision, she would sometimes stare at nothing. She usually gave some indication that she heard you, though, even mid prediction.

  "Margaret?" Rider moved around the island and began to circle Gran. "She does not appear to be injured."

  "How can you tell?" I believed him, but I’d been wanting to know how he could find injuries on those around him.

  "Smell." Rider circled again before joining me. "Has she ever done this before?"

  "Not like this." Unsure of what to do, I went to her. "Gran?"

  Still no response.

  I picked up her hand and called to her once more.

  She blinked a few times, and then focused on me. "Cassie?"

  "Are you okay?" I asked. "Come sit down."

  "Of course, I'm fine, sugar. When did you get home?" She sounded a little distant, as though her mind were elsewhere.

  "A few minutes ago," I said.

  "Everything good?" Logan asked, coming in with Hank.

  Gran smiled. "Hank, it's good to see you again. You all have a seat. I've got some tea in the fridge."

  "I'll get it," I said, moving to intercept her. "Have a seat, Gran."

  Gran sat down with the others and started chatting, sounding like herself again. Rider seemed unfazed. Logan watched her carefully for a few minutes, but seemed satisfied that she was okay.

  Everyone declined tea, but I brought Gran a glass anyway.

  "Cassie never mentioned she was goin' anywhere," Gran said.

  I sat down next to her. "We just found out."

  "Where to?" Gran said.

  I glanced at Hank, who shrugged.

  "We fly out tonight, but we're shy on the details," Logan said.

  "Speaking of which," I said, "any other advice on what to pack, beyond layers?"

  "It's hard to say," Logan
said. "Think of what you would have wanted with you on your last trip with Boone."

  I frowned, not liking to remember my time in the gremlin world. "There's no way to fit a shower in my bag."

  Logan chuckled. "You'd be surprised. I think Boone will take care of the big stuff. Anything personal that you want to bring along to make your life easier, pack it."

  "You have a plane to catch in five hours," Hank said. "So you may want to pack fast."

  "I should go," Rider said.

  "We'll pick you up on the way to the airport," Logan said.

  "Thank you," Rider said. "Margaret, we shall meet again when I return."

  Gran smiled. "You take care of yourself and my granddaughter. That goes for you too," she said to Logan.

  For a moment, I thought I detected a trace of worry in her face, but it quickly disappeared.

  "We should head out also," Logan said. "We'll be back in a few hours."

  Logan and Hank slipped out the back door. A quick walk across a small field and Logan was home. Our backyards practically touched.

  "Do you have to leave so quickly?" Gran asked.

  Little alarm bells went off in my head. Gran had never before seemed overly concerned about when I came and went.

  "Agent Boone asked for our help on something," I said.

  "I don't think you should go."

  I bit my lip and tried to think of what to say. "Is something going to happen?"

  "I'm not sure," Gran said. "I can't see it. There's something, but I just can't see it. I keep tryin', it’s just not comin'."

  "Trying to force it isn't going to help," I reminded her. It was a lesson that she’d taught over and over again while I was growing up. "Is that what you were doing when we got home?"

  "I thought I caught the tail of somthin', but when I looked for it, there was nothin'."

  "Do you want me to stay?" I asked. She was probably the only person in the world that I'd change my mind for. Well, maybe Vincent.

  Maybe.

  "It’s probably nothin’. No, darlin'. Your friend needs your help."

  "If you need me—"

  "I'm fine," Gran insisted. "Besides, Dee Dee and I are plannin' a trip to the casino."

  "There are no casinos around here."

  "It's one of them bus trips. They put a bunch of us seniors together and take us someplace with a bit more fun. There's no use in you staying, since I'll be gone."

  "Can you leave Molly alone in the house?" I asked.

  "Your mother will come take care of her."

  "She will?"

  "Of course she will. I took care of all her dead plants the last time she went away."

  I grinned. "They're fake, not dead. Besides, didn't you throw a bunch of them away?"

  "I did her a favor. Those things needed to go." Gran seemed every inch her normal self.

  "I'll check in with you when I can.”

  Upstairs, I found myself wondering what I needed with me. Remembering my time in the gremlin world, my first thought was fresh socks and underwear. After that, I was at a loss. I added two pairs of jeans, some shirts—long and short sleeve—and a jacket. Toiletries took longer. A toothbrush and hairbrush were essential, but the rest I balked at somewhat.

  Realizing I might be gone for as long as two months, I added a few more shirts and pants. More socks, underwear and a cardigan later, I had a large suitcase full of stuff.

  I grabbed a backpack and started to pare down the heap of items into a more manageable lump.

  I went from too many clothes, to too few, and then back again. At that point, I realized I was being ridiculous and went back to Logan's original advice.

  As soon as I was packed the last time, I left the room to prevent myself from adding or taking away anything else.

  Downstairs, Gran handed me a bottle of painkillers. Hoping I wouldn't actually need them, I tossed them into the bag before adding some instant coffee. I was trying to cut down on caffeine, but sometimes my powers needed the boost caffeine provided. Boone wouldn't have asked for me if it weren't important, so I snagged whatever I might be able to use to gain an edge.

  “At least we don’t have to worry about your mother meetin’ Frank.” Gran said. She never was too fond of my zombie rabbit.

  "It’s strange, but I miss the little fluffer, but I think his new home will be good for him and we can save Mom from pitching a fit."

  "What does Vincent say about all this?" Gran asked.

  "I haven't had a chance to talk with him. I left him a message, so I'm sure he'll call soon." I seriously hated that I was starting to worry once again about what Vincent would or would not do, so I shoved it out of my mind. "Do you need anything before I go?"

  "I'm good. You have everything?"

  "I think so."

  "Socks and underclothes?"

  "Yes."

  "Did you bring a jacket?"

  "I have one."

  Did you pack your gun?"

  Damn. "You know, there aren’t many grandmothers that would make sure a gun is on my packing list."

  "Well, not many grandmothers have a granddaughter that saves people who need savin'."

  I gave her a quick hug and ran upstairs to grab my gun and a holster.

  Chapter Three

  "Are you sure we're supposed to be here?" I asked Logan for the third time.

  The airstrip was small, unlit, and apparently deserted.

  "This is where Hank sent us, this is where we should be," Logan said.

  Rider crinkled his nose up over and over again.

  "What's wrong?" I asked.

  "The smells," he said.

  "Is anyone around?" I asked.

  "There are at least two in the hanger over yonder," Logan said.

  "Three," Rider corrected.

  Logan appeared to listen intently. "Is there a fourth in the plane?"

  "I am not certain," Rider said.

  I was standing close enough to Logan that even in the dark I could see him unfurl his ears. I couldn't tell how far away the hanger was, but it looked as though more than just a football field would fit between the building and us.

  "Three outside and a fourth in the plane," Logan said. "And they're getting ready to bring out our ride."

  My partners amazed me. "They didn't happen to mention where we're going, did they?"

  "Only that it’s a military base," Logan said. “Nothing we didn’t already know.”

  The doors of the hanger opened, letting light spill out. A few minutes later, the plane had been maneuvered onto the airstrip.

  Someone in a golf cart zipped over to us.

  "If you would like to join me," the man said, "the pilot is almost ready to leave. Ladies in front."

  I rolled my eyes, but took the seat in the cart anyway. Behind me, a quick, whispered conversation took place far too low to hear.

  As we approached, I was hoping we were farther away from the machine than it appeared. The aircraft didn't appear to get any larger as we approached. When I think plane, I think of large, jet-fueled flying machines.

  This had propellers. At least it had two of them instead of just one, but I had never been in something so small.

  The man pulled to a stop and jumped out. "We have her fueled and ready to go."

  I slung my backpack over my shoulders and gripped the straps. "How far are we going in this?"

  "A little over two hundred and fifty miles," the man said. "That's where you'll meet up with your next plane."

  Somehow, I managed not to sigh. "Next plane?"

  "I'm afraid you'd have to make several stops in this plane to reach your final destination, so you’re meeting up with another one."

  "Which is where?" Logan asked.

  "I'm not at liberty to say," the man said. "Now, please board and we can get you on your way."

  The plane was roomier than it looked—at least until Rider got in. Sometimes, I forgot how tall he is until we get into a small space.

  "It’s a good thing we travele
d light," I said, watching my friend twist in his seat trying to make room for his legs.

  "I cannot say I've ever been in this type of vehicle," Rider said.

  "But you've flown before, right?" I knew he had flown at least once, but a helicopter ride while unconscious and bleeding out probably didn't count.

  "Once, but the plane was much larger," Rider said.

  "Hard not to be," I said under my breath.

  "Everyone ready?" the pilot asked, raising his voice to be heard from up front.

  "Ready," Logan called out.

  The plane wasn't quite as loud as I thought it would be, but once it was in the sky, small pockets of air made the little plane dance around. More than once, I gripped tightly onto the seat belt, which was more like the ones you see in a car rather than in commercial airliners.

  I kept a close eye on Rider, just in case the experience bothered him, but once we were in the sky, he had his eyes glued to the world below, apparently fascinated by what he saw. Logan had on a headset and was chatting away with the pilot. By the time we touched down, my knuckles were white from my nervous grip and I was happy to reach the ground.

  We landed at a regular-sized airport, but on a smaller runway far away from the larger aircraft. My first thought was, Oh crap, not another toy plane. There were plenty of them around after all. Instead, we walked across part of the airstrip to what looked like a larger private plane with all the modern systems that I expected in a plane.

  There were soldiers around, including one that ushered us on board.

  For some reason, I thought we'd be traveling alone or through regular airports, but inside were quite a few people. I immediately felt underdressed. There were military men and women along with other people that wore severe-looking suits. Everyone on the plane had an air of importance that made me slightly nervous.

  The looks of impatience given by some, along with the fact that the door closed directly after us, told me that the plane had been held for us, and it wasn't appreciated by the others on-board. Some of the passengers appeared curious about our arrival, which I also wasn't comfortable with. Something told me that these people knew exactly where they were going and why they were there, whereas we were still in the dark.

  Which was fine, as long as they didn't ask us any probing questions.