Chương 34: Chapter 33 - It Has to Mean Something

That evening, when Conrad and I were back in our rooms, I told him about the hall. He didn't seem impressed. I stopped my erratic pacing and turned to face the couch where he was sitting.

"Don't you get what this means?" I cried. He thought about it for a second.

"No."

"Well…!" I huffed.

"Neither do I!" I dropped onto the couch next to him.

"But it's got to mean something, right?"

"I think it could mean something. I don't think it necessarily has to."

"Huh?"

"Isn't it normal for people to dream about places they've been? I'm no seer, but I've had dreams about this building."

"But how could I have a dream about a hall I've never been down?"

"A lot of the halls look alike. Especially the same hall on different floors."

"But the second floor—first floor?" I put my hands up by my head, fingers spread wide.

"Whatever! That floor has dorms too."

"The third floor doesn't."

"I haven't been in the back wing on the third floor."

"You have." I looked up at Conrad. His mellow voice had carried a simple, unbending confidence. He sounded so sure of himself, I felt inclined to believe him. But how could he know more about where I'd been than I did? Besides the dozens of times I'd been lost.

"How long were you following me, Conrad?" The wolfman turned his head, and his ears did this weird limbo where they sunk down and back for a second. I needed to start recording them. Maybe I could put together a study on how to read his emotions.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"About what?"

"About following you." His ears dipped again. I recognized that one; he was embarrassed.

"I promise, I wasn't stalking you."

"Are you sure you weren't? Because if I can go around saying I was stalked by an apex predator, my life would sound a lot more exciting."

"Do you need your life to sound more exciting?"

"That—uh…hmmm. You raise a good point."

"And aren't humans considered an apex predator?" I let out a psssh sound." I'm not. People who think like that don't live with a wolfman and a vampire. You know what—let's go ask a polar bear." While he was shaking his head, I caught a glimpse of the tiny smile at the edge of his muzzle.

"Anyway," I said.

"You don't have to apologize. Darius already took all the credit for having me followed." My stomach sank.

"Considering everything, it's hard to blame him."

"You're ashamed?" My head rose.

"Did you smell that?"

"Yeah, but I don't get it. Why would you feel ashamed?" There was a second of silence, then he added, "Getting mad isn't going to make my nose stop working." I was sitting right next to him, but I still managed to lunge toward him. Call it aggressive leaning.

"Conrad! You can smell the difference between men and women, can't you?"

"Some of the time. Not always. Why?"

"You can look for her!"

"Who?"

"The woman in the hall!" I grabbed his shirt sleeve with both hands.

"The woman from my dream! If she's here, you should be able to smell her out."

"Whoa! Calm down."

"They're hurting her!" He reached across his chest. His one hand was big enough to cover both of mine.

"Emerra, it's okay. Take a second, and let's think about this. Will you listen?" I scowled, but I also nodded. I wasn't in the mood for thinking or listening, but I could recognize common sense when someone smacked me over the head with it. Conrad said, "You're saying that Wuller, or someone else, is hiding a woman at this school and systematically torturing her by forcing her to walk down the halls naked while the students watch—""They weren't students!"

The objection blurted out of my mouth before I could process it. When I heard myself, I stopped.

"If they weren't students, who were they?" Conrad asked.

"I don't know."

"Did you recognize any of the teachers? Anyone else?"

"No," I muttered.

"At least, I don't think so."

"And none of your dreams have been repeats?"

"No."

"Do you know if you're the same person in all of your dreams?" A headache slid its long fingers into my brain as I tried to remember the dreams.

"I don't know, but I don't think so." Conrad watched me, waiting for some kind of explanation.

"I felt different," I said.

"That woman, she had a heart of…sadness? Like, she was proud and frustrated, but she was deep, like a sad painting. Ugh! I don't know how to explain." And, of course, Conrad laughed at me. Or, rather, he smiled…but irritatingly.

"It's okay, Mera. I think I get it. Go on."

"But when I was cleaning up the blood—""The blood?" That's right. I hadn't told him about that dream. His eyes softened as I talked. When I finished, he said, "That's a hell of a dream."

"I know. But that's not important! What's important is that in that dream, my heart was scared, all the way to its core. I don't think the same person could feel that different." The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Conrad sighed.

"Emerra, I've been everywhere in this school—""Everywhere?"

"Every single room. I finished this afternoon. There are no porcelain tables, and if there had been a room with that much blood, I guarantee I would have smelled it."

"Even if they'd cleaned it?"

"Few people can clean well enough that I would miss it. Even then, I would have smelled the cleaners they used."

"Okay, but that dream isn't the one I'm worried about."

"You're worried about the woman because you think you found the hall you saw in your dreams."

"Yes!"

"In the past week, only two women have been in this school for longer than an hour."

"Only…" My voice trailed off.

"Only two. There's you, and there's one that works in the kitchen."

"Mrs. Hart?" No wonder she'd been so excited to meet me.

"Is she the woman you saw in your dream?" Conrad asked. Mrs. Hart was at least fifteen years older than the woman I'd seen in the window, and she seemed too cheerful to be carrying around that kind of a broken heart.

"No," I said.

"It's possible I missed something," Conrad said, "but Darius and I have been looking into your dreams—""Both of you?" The wolfman paused.

"Yes."

"But…" I knew I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what. My emotions were tangled up and confused. A part of me was touched that they were taking me seriously, but another part of me felt…almost bad.

"We're supposed to be figuring out what's happening to the boys," I said.

"My dreams don't have anything to do with that. Aren't we wasting time?" Conrad chuffed.

"Only an idiot ignores a seer. We were already investigating the school—adding a few extra questions and checking the windows for bars wasn't a big deal. Besides, we can't be sure your dreams don't have anything to do with it." That made some kind of sense. My guilt faded.

"And you didn't find anything?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"Okay. That's…that's good."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! Why wouldn't it be good? I don't want these dreams to be real."

"You seem uneasy."

"You mean I smell uneasy."

"Well, yeah."

"Sucks to be you! I can't turn off whatever glands you're smelling any more than you can turn off your nose." I booped the end of his snout.

"Let me know if they make an emotional deodorant." Conrad has this fantastic expression where the edge of his lips lift by a micron, he lowers his fluffy eyelids, and he gazes at me with a flat expression. It's the look of a wolfman choosing to be amused because it isn't worth his energy to be annoyed. I'd probably annoy him less if I wasn't so fond of that expression.

"Am I bothering you yet?" I asked.

"I'll keep you informed. How about some anime before bed?" I bumped the side of my head against his shoulder, saying, as I gazed up at him, "You're my all-time favorite wolfman, Conrad." His deadpan response was "Glad to hear it." It's possible he might have found the compliment more meaningful if I'd known even one other wolfman. We only got through two episodes before I started nodding off. Conrad had me lie down and covered me with the blankets. I think I was asleep before he made it back to the bedroom.

I fought each step of the way. My arms were bound, so I threw myself side to side—suddenly stopping, or lunging forward—trying to rip free from the six hands that held me. My jerking movements made the room blur. The teal-colored tiles became smears. The fixtures on the walls were blotches. The people watching were edgeless shapes and nonsensical voices. Two I could have managed. Not three. Why me? Why this? My heart screamed with panic, fueling my will to fight. I managed to tear myself away from two of them.

When I felt the third grab my arms, I twisted out of his grip and fell. I couldn't catch myself. My shoulder hit first. The impact boomed through my body. My head hit next. A sharp crack, like a stone whip. I laid there, whimpering—all my fight blown out by the first hit, a cold awareness snapped into my brain by the second. I was done. They'd won. They always won. My eyes took in the tiles around the floor drain in front of me. I noticed them every time they dragged me in, but I had never been so close to them.

Tiny, goldenrod yellow tiles were set in a pattern around the drain. A bright sunburst, shining out from the dark teal. Did they think it would be cheerful? It wasn't. The yellow looked sick. It made the black drain in the center stand out, turning it into the focus. It looked like a silent witness told to stand there and smile, to mutely accept everything that washed over it. And it did. I was lifted from the ground. I glared at the black drain as I was pulled away. My legs hit the side of the tub.

I was plunged into the icy water. I tried to sit up—tried to throw myself upright—rejecting sleep as violently as I could, but my right hand scraped down the back couch cushion while my left hand sank through the air, seeking a surface that wasn't there. I rolled off the couch and hit the floor on my knees. I grit my teeth, trying to hold back whatever horrible sound was building up in my chest. It was only a dream! Only a dream. It didn't matter. The pressure in my chest grew.

It came out as a stifled moan filled with all my frustration, sadness, and fear. It felt so good to let it out, I turned my face into the sofa so I could do it again, louder. The cushion muffled the sound. Maybe it would be quiet enough Conrad could sleep through it. I was still alternating between gasping sobs and muffled screams when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I didn't jump. I must have sensed he was there. Either that, or I was too exhausted to be surprised.

"Come on," Conrad said.

"Come here." He helped me to my feet and pulled me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around him. We stayed there for almost a minute as the last of the groans and the sobs escaped. When I was done, I turned my head so I could rest it on his chest, and I stood there, trying to relax while letting out the occasional sniff or hiccup. As the horror and grief dimmed, my embarrassment got the chance to make itself heard.

"I'm sorry I woke you," I grumbled into his shirt.

"Do you feel better now?" he asked. I took a deep breath. My nose filled with the weird scent of his fur.

"Mostly," I said.

"But I'm really—" My voice choked up. I had to swallow before I could try again. It still came out breathy.

"I'm really sorry I woke you up."

"Don't worry about it." God bless my unflappable wolf-boy. His monotone statement made it sound like not-a-big-deal. I needed it to not be a big deal. We let go of each other. I plopped down on the couch and started gathering up my blankets. Conrad walked over to the sideboard that held the electric kettle. Until that moment, it had been ignored. Darius would probably volunteer to eat raw garlic before he'd be willing to drink instant coffee.

"It's five-fifteen," Conrad said.

"Too early for caffeine, but they have some chamomile tea. Would you like some?" I'd never had chamomile tea. I didn't even know what chamomile was. But if I said yes, Conrad would have to stick around.

"That sounds perfect," I said. He nodded and went to fill up the kettle in the bathroom sink. When he came back, I was sitting with my knees up at my chest, gazing at the shimmering curtain of magic.

"No one outside the room could hear me, right?" I said.

"You weren't that loud." Conrad put the kettle on the base and pressed a few buttons.

"I have good hearing."

"Okay."

"That dream seemed worse than the others."

"No, it just…overlapped." The wolfman turned and leaned back on the sideboard so he could see me.

"Overlapped?" With the other nightmares, I'd felt like I was borrowing the fear from someone else, but when they had dunked me into that freezing water, arms bound, it woke up all my own panic and added it to the rest.

"I have problems with water at the moment," I said.

"Hey! Super-nose! You have to nag me if I stop bathing. It's in your best interest as well as mine." That got a half smile from him.

"I'll see what I can do." He turned back to the sideboard and started preparing the cup and tea bag. I watched him as he worked.

"Conrad."

"Yeah?" he said without turning around.

"I have a favor to ask." He stopped what he was doing and looked at me.

"What kind of favor?"

"Would you…would you come with me? I want to go somewhere." I rushed to add, "I swear I won't ask this a lot. I'm usually fine on my own."

"Wouldn't you rather go with those boys you're always hanging out with?" The ground dropped out from under me. I was the coyote hanging in thin air before he looks at the cartoon desert, a thousand miles down. Conrad hadn't sounded bitter, but it was such a crazy question, I didn't know how to react.

"What?" I said.

"Osborn. And the others."

"What about them?"

"If you'd rather go with them—""Why on earth would I rather go with them than you?" He buried his hands in his pajama pockets and shrugged. He kept his eyes on the rug as he said, "I thought you might prefer being around humans." My eyes narrowed.

"Is this from when you thought I was avoiding you?" Now he looked up.

"You were avoiding me."

"Okay. True. That was me being stupid, but I was doing it because I thought I might be bothering you, remember? — not because I like them more than I like you."

"They're your kind, Emerra. People like to be around their people. It's not unreasonable." As far as I was concerned, anyone who was willing to spend eight bucks so I could lean against their fluffy arm and watch anime two nights in a row was definitely my people. But maybe it didn't matter to him like it did to me.

"Were you jealous?" I asked with perfect, wide-eyed innocence. That was another big step toward becoming a certifiable villain. I grinned when Conrad's ears started wiggling around in embarrassment.

"Where do you want to go?" he said.

"And when?"

"Right now. Before I chicken out. I want to go back to the basement where I had my panic attack. There's something I have to check." He watched me for a second, then turned toward the bedroom.

"Give me a minute to get dressed."