Free Ripples (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 2) by Meaghan Rauscher Page B

belonged, and I always would .

6. Nightmare
    The joy of the winter’s day still pumped through my veins, but it faded into the background as every day cares pushed their way into focus. It wasn’t the pain of loss, but instead the acceptance of my family that made me face my past in a different light. As the days went by I reveled in my comfort at home, even though the aching desire for Patrick still filled my heart. And although I tried to fall asleep with a clear mind, there was nothing I could do about the nightmare that woke me each night.
         Even now the numbers on the horrid red clock glared at me from across the room. It was only one in the morning and though I had gone to bed early, I felt like I hadn’t slept for days. It was because of that dream. The dream of Patrick, and his desperate cries to find me. Cold sweat beaded on my brow and I couldn’t shake his voice from my head.
         It had been about a month since I returned to Coveside and though I worked most days, I was still left to face this nightmare each night. During those hours at work I didn’t have to think about anything as long as my hands were busy. As soon as I got home, however, I would hear his voice again and I struggled to stay aloof, but was beginning to fail. Sometimes I was afraid to go to sleep at night and hear his voice, which seemed to grow stronger each time. When would it stop?
         With a frustrated sigh I kicked off my covers and headed out my door. I knew where I was headed. The past few nights I had slept downstairs on the couch. Somehow it helped me fall back asleep, even if it was only to dream of that beach again.
         I threw my body down on the soft couch and pulled the wool blanket, which was always on its cushions, over my body. I slowly relaxed my muscles and tried to think of happy things, which took more control than it should.
         Finally my mind slipped away and I prepared myself for the nightmare that was to come…
     
         I woke up gasping, I would have thought that the dream’s strength would start to lose its power over me, but it was quite the opposite. His voice was getting louder and I grew more desperate. I had tried running toward the sound of him, but that only ended in me falling to the ground and I would wake up. I now just stood in my dream, I always tried to yell back to him, but no matter how loud I yelled, he never heard me.
         I rubbed my face with my cold fingers and sat up searching for a clock. I wondered how long I had been out and silently hoped it was near morning, but from the dark shadows outside, I could tell I hadn’t been asleep long.
         My eyes found the clock and I internally swore. It had only been an hour. Leaning back against the couch, I looked around the room and wondered what I could do to entertain myself. Slowly, my eyes roved around the room, grazing over the television and the bookcase against the wall, when they noticed a dark shadow pressed against the wall. I peered at, trying to decide what it was in the dim light coming through the windows, feeling as though it didn’t belong there.
         Quite suddenly, the shapes came together as the outline of a person. For one second I froze, and then jumped over the back of the couch quickly as though it could provide some barrier between us.
         “Who’s there?” I said frantically and cursed myself for leaving the dagger up in my room.
         “I came to talk to you.”
         I froze. I knew that throaty, hard voice but I had only heard it once before in a very similar shadowy situation. It was the Hyven soldier who had told me of Patrick’s death.
         “What?” I said, not unaware I was holding my hands slightly in front of me as though they would provide protection.  My sense were on full alert, if he was here, then Morven could be too.
         “I need answers.” The deep voice said through the shadows and the figure took a step forward, to