The Last Dream Keeper Read Online Free Page B

effort of holding up the poker, so she let the weapon drop to her side—but that didn’t mean she couldn’t brandish it again at a moment’s notice.
    I’m an idiot,
Lyse thought.
I should go call the police. Only a vapid scream queen opens the door when there’s clearly something monstrous waiting on the other side.
    She grasped the handle and turned, but didn’t open the door. Instead, she stood there, hand on the cold metal, willing herself not to be a coward. She slowly began to count to ten under her breath, steeling herself to rise to the occasion—and as the number eight passed her lips, she threw open the door.
    There was no one there.
    Of course there wasn’t.
    She sagged in the doorway, and the adrenaline, which up until a few seconds earlier had been coursing through her veins like fire, evaporated. She felt nauseated and weak with exhaustion, her legs boiled noodles that could barely hold her up. Black dots flickered at the edge of her vision, and if she hadn’t just downed two espressos’ worth of coffee, she might’ve given in to her body’s demands and passed out.
    Then she noticed the tarot card poking out from underneath the woven sisal doormat. She knelt down, her fingers sliding the card from its resting place. She held it up so she could get a better look at The Fool from the Rider-Waite tarot deck.
    She turned the card over and saw someone had scrawled a message in black pen on the back.
    Beware the Fool.
    She stood in the doorway for a few long minutes, back pressed against the doorframe as she peered out into the late-morning light, the tarot card held tightly between her fingers. A prickle on the back of her neck told her whoever had left the tarot card was still in close proximity, watching her carefully. She squinted, eyes roaming the confines of the wooden deck and koi pond, looking for some sign of her visitor.
    Nothing. Only the lingering scent of a spicy men’s cologne.
    Her eyes cut through the wall of bamboo separating Eleanora’s bungalow from the neighboring house, but she couldn’t discover her watcher’s hiding place. Human eyes can only see so far, and, in the end, Lyse was not a formidable adversary. Cold and sick-feeling, she finally gave up the search and went back inside, closing the door behind her.
    The
click
of the deadbolt being thrown into place was quick and sharp, the sound dying almost as soon as it was born. Anyone who was close enough to hear it would know its meaning:
    Lyse was scared.
    *   *   *
    Lyse placed the tarot card on the kitchen counter faceup. She didn’t want to see the spidery writing on its back, and holding it made her feel strange.
    She began to pace, not sure what her next move should be. She didn’t want to leave the house, but there was nothing for it. She’d told Dev she was going over there, to the old Victorian that had been in the Montrose family for over a century, and Dev would’ve made sure the rest of the coven—Arrabelle, Daniela, and Lizbeth—would be coming, too.
    Wait.
    Daniela lived across the street. If Lyse asked, she would totally come over and walk with her to Dev’s house.
    She felt foolish as soon as the thought entered her head. Shewas a grown woman, not a child. She should be able to leave her house without an escort. But once she’d had the idea, it wouldn’t leave her mind and so she crossed the kitchen, picking up the phone receiver one more time.
    She realized she didn’t know Daniela’s phone number—but Eleanora’s old handwritten address book was still sitting on the shelf below the telephone. She thumbed through it, recognizing few of the names inside. Finally, she found the page where Eleanora had written Daniela’s name and phone number. It looked more recent than many of the other entries, written in pencil instead of the blue ink Eleanora had used for the rest of the address book.
    She