I blinked, not understanding. “It’s not like I’m going to start helping the guy.”

“Ah,” Marrow said, wagging a finger at me. “That’s the rub, isn’t it? The killer, whoever it might be, is clever. Clever enough to trick you into helping him”—he paused—“or her, without you even being aware you’re doing it. And a Nightmare’s ability could prove quite useful, no doubt.”

Nausea twisted my belly into knots as I thought about Rosemary. It was likely that she’d been lured into Coleville by the killer. Was it possible the same could happen to me?

Some questions were better left unanswered.

11

Cold Case

By the time I left Mr. Marrow’s office, I realized I was in over my head. How could I have been so stupid? If Culpepper was involved then the killer already knew what I could do. Or would find out soon enough. That was it. No more of this wannabe Nancy Drew sleuthing. Selene was right. I should stick to the dream stuff. That was safe. That was simple.

Coward.

But I was just a teenager. I couldn’t vote or join the army. I didn’t even have my own car. I had no business taking on a killer. Besides, the whole of magickind thought I was evil. Not even vampires had been hunted to near extinction and most of them were evil. Best to keep a low profile.

By the time I reached the dorm, I’d successfully forced my thoughts onto the more pleasant subject of my upcoming date with Paul. In truth, I’d thought about him a lot since last Sunday.

I wondered if I’d missed any calls and pulled out my cell from the front pocket of my jeans only to find it was off. Grrrr. The stupid thing had developed a surly personality from the animation effect, which meant it shut down whenever it wanted to. Usually when I was expecting important phone calls.

I switched it on and was immediately rewarded with twenty text messages, all from Selene. No wonder she’d been so worried. I didn’t have any voice mails though, and disappointment that Paul still hadn’t called struck me like a sudden cramp. He was cutting it a bit close—we were supposed to go out tomorrow night, and I didn’t know when or where.

Naturally, Selene was still up when I came in. She spent ten minutes lecturing me on how I should never do something so stupid again. I didn’t argue with her. She was totally right.

I couldn’t shake the certainty building inside me that Paul wasn’t going to call, and by the time I headed off for my dream-session with Eli, I was ready for this day to be over. But things went from bad to worse when I saw Eli standing out front of Flint Hall with Katarina.

They were kissing.

I ducked behind a tree, going red from head to toe. Could this night get any worse? It was bad enough Eli had already been dreaming about Katarina in skimpy cheerleading outfits. Now that they had progressed to the making-out stage in real life, I could only imagine what the dreams would be like as a result. Naked Katarina, no doubt.

Hot, angry tears stung my eyes. It was too much after the day I’d had—the humiliation in psionics, finding out I was a monster who could kill people in their dreams, the likelihood that I was going to get stood up by the first boy at Arkwell ever to show interest in me, and now this.

I took a deep breath and told myself I didn’t care about Eli kissing somebody. Still, he and I did have a dream-feeding session, which was a perfectly good reason to interrupt them. But then I glanced at my watch and realized I was five minutes early. Of all the luck.

At least Eli said good-bye a few moments later, after one of the werewolf policemen on patrol told them to break it up and gave them a warning for being out after curfew. I waited until Katarina was out of sight before going in.

“Hey,” Eli said as I came through the door. “What happened to you today?” He eyed me up and down.

I crossed my arms over my chest, wishing I’d taken the time to change into my usual dream-feeding outfit. I felt oddly vulnerable in my V-neck tee and low-rise jeans. “What do you mean?” God, I hope he doesn’t smell like her.

Eli closed the space between us, stopping an arm’s length from me. He was so tall I had to look up at him even from that distance. “You disappeared before gym. Everybody’s been out looking for you.”

I took a step back. “So I’ve heard.”

He frowned. “You okay?”

“Never better.” I uncrossed my arms and motioned toward the chair. “Can we get on with this?”

His frown deepened. “Did something happen?”

“No.”

He put his hands on his hips. “You’re lying.”

I glowered at him. “Like you know me well enough to know when I’m lying.”

His expression turned menacing again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just don’t bother acting like you care what happens to me. It’s really not necessary.”

He didn’t say anything, just kept staring at me with that pantherlike expression. After a moment he turned and sat in his usual chair, his mouth opening into a huge yawn.

I sat down across from him, arms folded over my chest again and eyes fixed on the posters on the wall. It was easy to tell which ones belonged to Lance and which were Eli’s. More than a dozen incarnations of the Joker grinned back at me. Eli’s contributions to the décor included several posters of rock bands, Black Noise among them, along with a Cincinnati Bengals decal, and a recruitment poster for the FBI. I guess he hadn’t been kidding about his life’s ambition.