The Dreamwalker's Path

1/ Ybor City, Florida June, 2013

Lia knew that someone was in her house the moment she’d closed the door behind her. The sound of music filtered in from her kitchen. Music, Lia would like to add, that she wouldn’t listen to if it were the only music in existence.

Rock didn’t do much for her as a general rule, so she couldn’t claim to be an expert, but the stuff that was coming from her kitchen sounded like the sort of music that could kick Rock’s butt on the playground. And then celebrate the victory by killing the neighbor’s cat.

There was only one person that would listen to that sort of music, in Lia’s opinion, and his presence in her home made Lia’s temper boil.

She dropped her dance bag by the door and marched herself to the kitchen just in time to see the tall vampire guzzling milk from the carton. Her hand flew out and smacked the off button on her small radio.

“Cavan Jaeger!”

How he couldn’t have been expecting her, Lia would never know. Between his supposedly heightened senses and his being in her home, he had to know that she was there, or at least that she would be there, but he seemed genuinely startled when she shrieked at him. So startled that he began to choke, spilling milk all over himself and the floor.

“Ah, fuck me,” Cavan groaned, looking down at his sopping shirt and the mess. “You wouldn’t happen to have a towel, would you?”

Lia pulled open a drawer and grabbed a dishtowel, throwing at him it a little more forcefully than necessary. “You can’t keep doing this,” she snapped sourly. “You can’t keep popping into my house to ‘checkup’ on things.”

Cavan wiped off his face and did the best he could with his shirt before kneeling down and taking care of the floor. “I don’t see why not,” he chirruped, looking up at her with an expression that was pleased as punch. Whatever the heck that meant.

“Well for one,” Lia pulled off her shoes and grabbed another towel so she could help wipe up the milk. “I can’t keep supporting your milk habit—which, by the way, I think you should seek help for.”

Cavan snorted. “Ophelia, you’re lactose intolerant, you don’t buy fucking milk, you buy deceit and lies. I buy milk, and generously share it with you.”

Lia opened her mouth to protest before looking at the carton in question. It was the same shape and size as the cardboard cartons of Soya and oat milk that she bought for herself, but it was, undoubtedly, cow’s milk. If she thought very hard about it, she vaguely recalled thinking that the carton of milk in the back of her fridge was probably a bio- hazard, as it had been ages since Camille had brought any real milk over to use for herself. She also, rather vaguely recollected that she had decided to wait for Camille to come back over to the house to deal with it, since she was the person who had placed the vile monstrosity in her fridge in the first place.

But it had not been her sister who had defiled her refrigerator with unedible dairy. It had been Cavan. Not only was the weirdo breaking into her house, he was purchasing himself groceries to bring with him.

Before Lia realized she’d done it, she’d grabbed the milk- soaked towel from the floor between them and smacked the man with it. Repeatedly.

“Why. Are. Vampires. So. Creepy?!” she shouted, getting up off the floor and dusting her knees off. “And why the hell are you buying milk?”

Cavan was too busy cursing under his breath and groping at the towel that was plastered to his face to answer her right away. When he did, his tone was as sour as his expression. “Vampires aren’t creepy; the fact that you didn’t notice that I have been storing milk in your fridge for four months is creepy. And because apparently if I don’t buy you milk, you won’t buy it, and then what am I supposed to drink with my cookies while I wait for you to come home? Hmm?”

“I’m lactose intolerant!” she shouted at the man.

“You’re life intolerant,” Cavan snapped back.

The conversation was a little too absurd for Lia to deal with, so she raised her hands and closed her eyes. “I don’t even know, sometimes,” she muttered, turning away and heading down the hall toward her bedroom. “You had better be gone when I get back,” she shouted over her shoulder, slamming her door shut.

She wished she could say that she was surprised to hear him heading down the hall after her, but Cavan never did seem too concerned about encroaching upon her personal space.

Eyeballing the door skeptically, she shimmied out of her work clothes and pulled her pajama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt.

“I know you’re there. You’re not using x-ray vision to peek at me through the door, are you?”

“If I had x-ray vision, Miss Witch,” the man drawled from the other side of the door, “I wouldn’t waste it on peeking at you.”

Lia frowned, unsure if she was offended or relieved.

She opened the door a crack and looked up at him disapprovingly. “I told you to go away.”

“I know what you told me,” the vampire murmured, leaning against the wall and tilting his head to look at her through the crack. “I have questions though.”

“I have a headache,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’ve named it Cavan.”

Cavan laughed without humour. “Good one. You’re so funny that I think I’ll going to stick around and wait for you to come up with the next one.”

Lia heaved a sigh and opened her door all the way. She forced a smile. “Fine. Here’s the answer to all of your stupid questions:

“Yes, I’m fine. No, I haven’t spoken to anyone about the incident. No, I haven’t bothered looking into my abilities. There’s no need to. Yes, I’m still a ballet teacher, and no, I really don’t want a job at the firm, thanks anyway.”

The vampire cracked a smile. “It’s not impressive when you’ve seen the movie before.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen it a couple of times.”

His smile widened a fraction. “You want to see the sequel sometime?”

“I really don’t, thank you.”

For a brief moment, he looked genuinely disappointed, and Lia was left to wonder what exactly the man had been offering.

“Anyway,” he waved the matter off, “I told you before that J & J doesn’t want you. You’ve a nifty ability, but you’re not exactly what we consider a top priority.”

“You could have fooled me. This is what? The six- dozenth time you’ve visited me in only four months? Either you’re looking to hire me, or you’ve developed a little crush.”

To her horror, the vampire seemed to consider the statement.

Lia made a face and pushed passed him. “Go away, creeper, I’m too busy for your creeping.”

Cavan rather predictably dogged her all the way down the hall and into the living room. “Will you simmer down for ten minutes and listen to me?” He pulled his cigarette case out of thin air and fished one out.

“No, but if you light that cigarette, I’ll gladly use my shiny powers to put you through a window.”

Cavan paused, lighter at the ready, eyebrow raised. “I would be more concerned if you hadn’t just admitted to practically ignoring the fact that you’ve had powers for the last four months.” He put the lighter away anyway, whether out of respect for her dislike of smoking or because he wasn’t sure he wanted to chance it, Lia wasn’t sure.

“I’m actually here about the dead girl.”

That gave Lia pause. “What dead girl?”

“The one that the police found around May Day; she was in her home crushed to death not too far from where you work...” he trailed off, but he was looking at her intently.

Oh, well wasn’t that peachy? Wasn’t that exactly what she wanted to spend her evening talking about? She’d spent three days of what was supposed to have been her first family celebration since she hit puberty consoling her grandmother because the daughter of a good friend had died. Three days with the death of that girl looming over her entire family like a big, wet blanket; and now just when all of that sorrow had begun to slip into the background of her life again, Cavan Jaeger, the Captain of the Creeper Squad and all his Creeper-ettes came stomping into her house wanting to talk about it.

Her displeasure must have shown on her face, because the vampire raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t strike a nerve, did I?”

“Actually, you did,” She flopped down on her couch and gave him the meanest look that she could muster. “I spent three days with my grandmother and the rest of my family, unexpectedly mourning the loss of a girl that I didn’t even know because my grandmother knows her mother— not that this is really your concern or your business—” she reminded him with a slight scowl, “So, for the past couple of weeks if anyone so much as casually mentions the case in my grandmother’s hearing, she gets upset, and of course they still don’t know who the hell did it, so it’s all over the news almost all the time.”

“Your grandmother knew her?” Cavan sat down, uninvited, of course, and vanished his cigarette with a wave of his hand. “Did she say how?”

Flustered, Lia heaved a sigh and looked up at the ceiling. “Just that she’d known her mother and had known the woman when she was little. Gram knows a lot of people in the area, though, especially if the family is into magic or whatever—she did mention that the woman’s mother was a witch, so I would imagine that’s how.”

“That makes sense, then,” Cavan said with a small nod, “The other women who have died were witches as well.”

Lia closed her mouth, suddenly suspicious. Why the hell did he want to talk to her about this anyway? He seemed as much in the know of what was happening as anyone else in the family who had talked to her about it—more so, considering the fact that, according to her grandmother, the Barrows were not public practitioners.

So was it just idle curiosity that had him wandering into her house to talk to her about it two months after the fact, or...

“Oh,” she murmured at length, distaste evident in her voice. “Oh, that’s...” she ran her hand through her hair in a ragged, frustrated motion; “So what, are you guys representing the guy that did her in? That’s what J & J is supposed to do, isn’t it? Keep the doings of the supernatural community under wraps for as long as possible?”

Cavan’s face twisted in slight disgust. “We take a lot of unpleasant cases, sweetheart, but we’re careful about which of those cases get into our courts. This isn’t one of them.”

Lia wasn’t sure if she was relieved to hear that or not. “Is the killer not supernatural?”

“Oh, no, he or she absolutely is,” he said the words as though he meant to reassure her, “but we don’t know who it is, yet.”

Right, that was not a relief to hear.

“You mean that he’s still out there? Wandering around Ybor like some sort of regular Joe, probably plotting out his next victim?”

“Technically he or she could be wandering around anywhere. I did say women, remember? There were a couple of bodies found in similar conditions in Colorado shortly after—another set found in London; we’re pretty sure that it was just coincidence that the first person that was killed happened to be in your area. But yeah, the rest is pretty accurate. We have about...zero information on who this person or thing might be.”

Cavan leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. “I did get a gander of the first body, though, and there was a heavy psychic signature left behind. Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s human, and I’m pretty sure that it kills people in its sleep.”

He scratched his cheek and turned his gaze on her.

A heaviness settled in her stomach. “Oh, god, you don’t think it’s the Alchemist again, do you?”

Cavan blinked, “No, Lia, you killed the Alchemist, and he won’t ever come back.” Or he probably wouldn’t come back. Cavan didn’t know for certain, so it was hard to say, but judging by the look on Lia’s face, that wasn’t something she needed to hear. He continued: “But if this thing, whatever it is, is killing people in their sleep, that does mean that someone in this room is responsible for helping to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”

There was a moment’s silence that stretched to two, and for one brief moment, Lia really did wish that she’d been practicing using her powers so that she could throw Cavan out of the house. “This does not involve me,” she insisted. “This is a matter for the police to sort out and for your company to clean up afterward.”

“Yeah, great, Ophelia, and what happens when they can’t because this thing doesn’t exist on the physical plane? What happens when this thing, whatever it is, goes after your sister, or your niece the way the Alchemist did? Are you really going to sit around and wait for your family to be targeted again?”

Lia balled her hands into fists and stood up. “I think it’s time for you leave.”

Cavan, to her disappointment, continued talking right over her. “You have responsibilities, Lia. You can’t just sit back and let other people take care of this stuff for you.”

“You’re right, I do! But those responsibilities do not involve tracking down some supernatural killer of some kind, okay? My life is complicated enough as it is right now, and I’m not going to let you sit here and tell me that it’s my job to put my life on the line for people that I haven’t even met!”

She stood there, angry, red-faced, waiting for some horrible, cheeky response from the man who looked like he was more a sulking child than an age old vampire.

At length, Cavan stood, looked down at her with a quiet, nonetheless scrutinizing expression etched across the plains of his face. “You don’t want to listen to me, doll face, that’s fine, but don’t cry to me to fix everything for you when you realize that your life is in the can again.”

She hated that he was taller than she was, that he could look down at her, that he could speak to her like he knew her future, just because he wanted her to do something that was none of her damn business.

She moved to push him away from her, to get him out of her face, but he intercepted her hands and held them in a crushing grip.

“Don’t,” he snarled. “I don’t know what kind of arrangement you have with Sebastian, sweetheart, but I don’t get off on being pushed around by prima ballerinas.” He pulled her arms straight and pushed her back with enough force to send her two steps back and toppling onto her sofa.

She was so stunned that he’d pushed her that it took a moment for his words to settle in her mind, and when they did, she felt as though he may as well have reached into her chest and squeezed her heart. “What?” she hoped against hope that he didn’t hear the constricted tremble in her voice. “Why would you say something like that?”

Cavan raised an eyebrow, “Say what, exactly? That I don’t like being knocked around by someone half my size?”

It was the constant repetition of the fact that Cavan was an utter asshole that kept her angry enough to keep tears out of her eyes. “Asking me what kind of arrangement I have with Sebastian. How could you say something like that when you know how devastated I felt, how I still feel?”

A sort of confusion passed over the vampire’s face, and then something that Lia was too upset to identify.

“Slip of the tongue.” He didn’t offer any other explanation, merely moved around the coffee table and headed for the door. “I can see that there will be absolutely no reasoning with you now. Just remember what I said about you being on your own the next time you’re in trouble.”

He swung the door open and headed down the front steps. “Of course if you do grow a heart and decide you want to help, you know how to reach us.”

And then he was gone, leaving Lia to feel as though somehow everything was about to go horribly wrong.