I watched in amazement as Roscoe turned his nose toward the siding of a random house. His nostrils flared when he inhaled deeply, as if he were a bloodhound on someone’s scent. He inched his nose along the seam between two planks, sniffing all the while. Truly, he appeared more like a werewolf than he did a vampire, but, of course, I knew better.

  Suddenly, a powerful sucking force accosted me, yanking me downward. One minute, I hung suspended over Haven Hollow and the next, I was shuttling through the air, on a collision course with the ground. It took me a second or so to remember I was in charge of this dreamscape and as soon as I did remember, I righted myself and stopped hurtling toward the earth like a speeding comet.

  Taking a deep breath, I found myself standing on the ground. As soon as I got my bearings, I realized I was now face to face with Roscoe, only a few inches of air separating us.

  He moved so fast I couldn’t see him—but I could feel him as he lunged for me and thrust me against the side of the house. His elbow drilled into my neck and his greasy face hovered only millimeters from my eyes. I could smell his foul breath that reeked of festering and rotted flesh.

  My heart stood still as my brain refused to believe what I was experiencing.

  This couldn’t be happening! I’m in an astral projection, I told myself. I’m in a dream of my own making!

  I should have been in ultimate control over everything, but I wasn’t. I should have been able to fling Roscoe off with a simple thought, but every time I thought that simple thought, nothing happened. Roscoe was still pinning me to the side of the house and I still couldn’t breathe. I shouldn’t have needed to breathe in a dream projection, but there it was—I felt my energy draining away with every breath I wasn’t able to inhale.

  Roscoe inhaled deeply and then growled and I could see the lunacy in his eyes—the fact that he was non compos mentis. He was crazy.

  I struggled to break free—to do anything—mainly to understand what in the world was happening and why and how! How could he have possibly known I was watching him?

  Moving as if he were on fast forward, he dove in towards me and the next instant, shooting pain stabbed through my neck. I tried to push away from him, but he was too strong—like being wedged by a boulder. Seconds ticked by and in those seconds I could hear the sound of him slurping, of him drinking.

  Crushing cold seized me and pretty soon I couldn’t feel my toes or my fingers. Yet, there was a rush of heat pouring through the puncture wounds where he’d bitten me. I felt my blood rushing into his mouth.

  This can’t be happening! My logical mind yelled. This is just a dream!

  And yet it is happening! I argued back. So you better figure something out!

  Even as I continued to try to fight Roscoe, to push him away, there was no loosening him. He was clamped around my neck with unimaginable power.

  I’m an astral projection, I told myself. He can’t hurt me. This is a dream. I’ll wake up in a minute and none of this will be real.

  He ripped off my neck, and the pain made me wish I could wake up—that I could force myself out of this delirious vision setting and find myself back in the real world—in Wanda’s living room. But, that didn’t happen.

  Instead, I felt my eyes widen as I took in every inch of Roscoe’s hideous face as blood dripped from his lips and dribbled down his chin.

  “How?” I managed to croak out.

  His smile was broad and proud. And his fangs seemed to lengthen as I watched them. And then I remembered—being inside the veil for decades had given him witch powers, Betanya’s powers.

  And that meant I was now in trouble. Big trouble.

  He eased his elbow off my neck and what little control I still possessed returned. Remembering I was in the dream state, I forced myself to fall back, through the house wall, and I suddenly found myself dropping down into my own bed. But there was no comfort to be found here, not when Roscoe was capable of the things he was. I shot bolt upright, screaming out the pain and fear I couldn’t voice just seconds earlier.

  And that was when I realized I was back—I was back in Wanda’s house, sitting on Wanda’s floor. I looked up and found Wanda, Olga and Roy all looking at me with expressions of concern on their faces.

  I stumbled, trying to get to my feet, but I simply collapsed against the couch. Roy immediately caught me, holding me at arm’s length as if to judge what was wrong with me. Couldn’t he see the blood? Couldn’t he see the fang marks in my neck?

  Every muscle felt drained. I barely had the energy to open my mouth. I almost passed out as I struggled to catch my breath. I had to… I had to…

  But, my brain refused to function. I had to do something, but Roscoe had taken all my energy. He’d drained my astral body, and that meant he now had the taste of me. That meant he could come after me in the real world. It meant he could track me as surely as I’d tracked him. It meant… it meant I was in trouble.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Wanda demanded, but her voice sounded distorted—like she was talking underwater. “You should be asleep.”

  “I… I was,” I managed, and my voice came out breathy, exhausted.

  “Poppy,” Roy said, pulling my attention to him. “What happened?”

  I nodded and tried to summon whatever energy I still possessed and yet I felt completely exhausted, taxed in a way I’d never felt before.

  “I found Roscoe in the dream and… he bit me.”

  “Nein!” Olga responded on an inhale.

  “That’s impossible,” Wanda started, shaking her head.

  I reached up delicately, to touch the bite marks in my neck—to prove to them that I wasn’t making this up. But, when my fingertips touched my skin, there was nothing—no blood, no raised bumps, no disturbance of the otherwise smooth skin.

  A chilling silence echoed around me and I opened my mouth to explain further—to tell Wanda that Roscoe wasn’t just an ordinary vampire—that due to the blood bond with Betanya, he had witch powers. But, when I started to explain, the exhaustion claimed me and before I knew it, everything turned black.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I was asleep again.

  I knew as much because I was no longer sitting on the floor in Wanda’s duplex. Instead, I was back in my house.

  I have to get to Wanda’s, I thought to myself. In order to wake up again, I had to be in the same place astrally as was my physical body.

  I staggered along the hall upstairs, the same sense of exhaustion claiming me, even though I did my best to shake it off—to no avail. Clearly, I was no longer in charge of the dream and that was a realization that was deeply upsetting.

  Just get to Wanda’s, I told myself again. Then you can wake yourself up again and figure this out.

  I nearly broke my neck tripping down the stairs, but managed to reach the foyer. All the while, my heart hammered through my brain.

  Get your keys, Poppy, I ordered myself. Right. There was no way I could walk to Wanda’s in my current state. I could barely make it down the stairs. Reaching for my purse, which was hanging on a hook by the door, I reached inside it and pulled out my keys. Then I tripped again in my haste to make it down the porch stairs. I had to take a break and lean against the railing as I breathed in deeply and tried to steady myself.

  I couldn’t understand how this felt so real—how although I was in the astral plane, my body wouldn’t work just like it wasn’t working in the real world, before I’d fallen asleep again.

  Just keep going, take one step at a time. You’ve got this.

  The voice sounded through my head, but it wasn’t mine. In fact, I had no idea to whom it belonged. It was a man’s voice and deeply accented English. Maybe it was nothing more than a product of my own panicked mind…

  The morning sun blinded me through the Jeep’s windshield as I crawled into the driver’s seat and then took a deep breath before slamming the door shut. Even as I sat there, I felt myself fading—my energy was failing by the second.

  My hands shook on the steering wheel and my vision started to blur when I jammed the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life, and the sound pulled me out of the daze that started to overcome me.

  No, Poppy, don’t give in. Get to Wanda’s! I yelled at myself.

  In response, I ripped the Jeep into reverse, then I hit the gas pedal and spat gravel as I peeled out of the driveway. Nearly wrecking the Jeep on one of the many Aspen trees that lined the driveway, I somehow managed to steer onto Chestnut Street.

  All the while, I could feel Roscoe like a shadow creeping up on me. Even though I kept looking for him in every direction, I couldn’t see him. Yet, I could still feel him and I was more than sure he was around me—somewhere. Hiding in plain sight. He was tracking me.

  My head jerked up and a flash of horror overcame me as I realized I must have drifted off because I was heading straight for a power pole. I yanked the wheel and zoomed back onto the road when something caught my attention in my rearview mirror.

  I glanced up and almost wrecked my car again. Roscoe was perched on my back bumper. He leered at me through the rearview mirror while he rode on the back of the Jeep. With my heart pounding through me, I veered into the oncoming lane before I realized what I was doing and yanked the wheel the other way.

  Get him off the Jeep! I yelled at myself and made a few more ineffectual jerks to try to shake him off, but he remained, grinning at me as if my attempts to lose him were cute.

  Feeling suddenly exhausted again, I dragged my focus forward and concentrated on the road. Spotting a side road, I swerved onto it and headed up a hill, at the top of which was nothing but morning sunshine. And sunshine was supposed to kill vampires. As I crested the top of the hill, light flooded the Jeep.

  I glanced back, hoping to spot Roscoe in the process of being scorched to a crisp on the bumper, but he only laughed. I stared at him in astonishment, all the while my brain not comprehending the fact that he wasn’t dead or dying. The sun shone full on his bald dome and glinted off his exposed fangs. It didn’t harm him at all.

  Because he’s been feasting on Betanya’s magic all this time, I reminded myself. He has powers beyond those of a normal vampire.

  As if in response to my thought, he sprang off the bumper. I flattened the pedal to the floor while I careened down the backside of the hill which would put me right back on Orchard Street, headed around to Magnolia St, where Wanda’s duplex was located.

  As fast as I drove, Roscoe vaulted over the Jeep and slammed down hard on the hood. He landed in a crouch right in front of me. I screamed in shock and reared back in my seat, releasing the steering wheel for a split second before I remembered myself and grabbed it, righting it from taking a nosedive into the gully beside me.

  What could kill this vampire? I screamed at myself.

  Sunlight was out. That left holy water which I didn’t imagine would do much to him… Okay, what else? Draining him of his blood, which seemed impossible, a stake through the heart—that seemed equally impossible.

  Or was it?

  I took a fresh grip on the wheel and then, noticing numerous low hanging branches of a row of pine trees, I steered into the oncoming lane. Roscoe laughed and tried to reach me through the open window as I slapped and pushed his hand away. Of course, in my current condition, I was no match for him and he managed to grab the door handle and open the door.

  At that moment, I forced the Jeep into the low-hanging branches, hoping one was just sharp enough to do the trick. The branches smacked him across the back and knocked him off the hood. He swung wide on the door and his fingers made claw-like sounds as they stripped the metal from the door in long patches the width of his nails. A second later, the door ripped clean off its hinges.

  Roscoe and the door went down under the wheels. The Jeep bounced over him, but I knew better than to think that would get rid of him. I gritted my teeth and trained every fiber of my being on maintaining control of the vehicle. I yanked back to the correct side road and spotted the sign for Magnolia Street, which was less than a mile away.

  I wasn’t even surprised this time when Roscoe took a flying leap and landed on the hood again. His maniacal laugh echoed in my ears, but I forced it out of my overwhelmed mind. I paid no attention when he reached through the gaping hole where the driver’s door used to be.

  He made a grab for the steering wheel and his fingers locked around my wrist instead, then he pulled my hand off the wheel, but that didn’t stop me from driving one-handed as I tried to fight his hold.

  I had to reach Wanda’s duplex.

  I stomped down hard on the brake and did a side-wheelie onto Magnolia Street. Roscoe slid to the left and almost dragged me out of the cab, but I slammed my foot down on the gas pedal again and shot straight.

  Just a little further…

  Roscoe righted himself on the hood and tried to yank me out of my seat, but my seatbelt stopped him. It locked in place so he couldn’t get me out from behind the wheel. I stretched my foot down as far as it would go to keep the accelerator pinned to the floor. Meanwhile, I wrestled the wheel with one hand and, spotting Wanda’s driveway, peeled off the main road, screeching to a stop in front of Wanda’s duplex.

  Roscoe gave my wrist one almighty jerk. At the same moment, he flung himself off the Jeep and pulling against the body of the vehicle, yanked it onto its side. I braked as best I could to avoid disaster and cringed, bracing for impact, but the Jeep was hurtling forward way too fast. Roscoe whipped over it and sprang into the driver’s compartment. He landed right on my lap as the Jeep smashed down on its side and skidded in a rotation down the driveway. It spiraled the rest of the way to the duplex and scraped to a halt right across from Wanda’s front door.

  The instant the vehicle stopped moving, Roscoe pounced. As I fought to get my bearings, he ripped my seatbelt off with one flick of his wrist. Then he grabbed my arm and launched us both upward. Crashing through the passenger window above me, we soared out of the Jeep and into the air.

  I screamed until I was hoarse as glass shattered around me and I closed my eyes against the onslaught. A second later, I felt myself landing and when I blinked, I slammed down on my back, on the pavement outside Wanda’s house.

  Roscoe stood over me and in the near distance, I spotted the Jeep flipped on one side. The wheels turned in silent revolutions and the engine was still running. Broken glass and debris littered the asphalt.

  Roscoe turned as if to walk away from Wanda’s and tugged my arm to drag me after him.

  Fight him, Poppy! I yelled to myself.

  In response, I flipped over with what little strength I still possessed. I might not be able to break his grip, but I had to do something.

  This is still a dream and you can still take control of it, I thought, even though I wasn’t sure if such was really the case anymore. It seemed to me that Roscoe had completely taken charge.

  I lunged for the Jeep and snatched the first object that came to my hand. It was a short length of twisted metal rod broken from the rear bumper. Ordinarily, I would never have been able to free it from the Jeep but this wasn’t ‘ordinarily’. This was a dreamscape.

  In that desperate moment, I pulled the piece free, then I wrenched around and struck with everything I had. I slashed at Roscoe’s arm. Of course, that wouldn’t harm him, but it got his attention. He jerked around with a vicious roar and bared his fangs. Then he lunged for me exactly the way I’d planned.

  I pulled the metal rod back towards me and sliced his face. I was aiming for his neck, but missed and gashed his cheek instead. He whipped sideways and, giving me a view of his chest, I thrust the scrap of metal up and into his chest as hard as I could.

  It plunged up to my knuckles and Roscoe froze, but I could tell I’d missed his heart. He blinked down at the bar sticking out of his torso and his fingers released from around my arm.

  Meanwhile, I scrambled to my feet and, with a burst of renewed energy, took off running for Wanda’s front door. As I did so, the front door opened and Wanda looked out at me, but just as I was about to set foot on her property, an overpowering force snatched me from behind.

  It hit me like a hurricane and jerked me backward, off my feet. Roscoe’s elbow locked around my neck and his arm extended over my shoulder. He hauled me one step at a time away from Wanda’s front door, where her Sanctum Spell would protect me.

  Roscoe’s laugh set my teeth on edge and as Wanda’s shocked expression met my eyes, I struggled for all I was worth, but without success. Roscoe clenched his arm around me and with his other arm, he grabbed the bar and slid it out of his own chest with a nauseating sucking sound. Blood dripped from his hand, arm, and the shaft itself when he brandished the metal before my eyes.

  Holding me in position while he turned the bar around to aim its razor-sharp end toward my sternum, I stared at death hanging suspended above me. Giving one last pathetic struggle to save my own life, Roscoe’s strength dwarfed mine. I couldn’t get away. He tensed for the killing stroke and arched back, raising the weapon on high.

  “No!” I heard Wanda scream.

  At the same time, Roscoe flexed and the shaft whistled through the air. At that moment, a scorching sizzle of energy brushed my hair. It missed me by a whisker and pummeled Roscoe in the face.

  The blast smashed him off me. In response, he staggered back, taking the bar with him. I jolted upright to see Wanda still standing on her porch, but now Olga was standing beside her. Both women’s arms were extended out in front of them and they were pounding Roscoe with hexes.

  Standing up, I lunged for the duplex, all the while dodging a rain of spells flying thick and fast. I dove for the porch when an explosion went off behind me. A counter-hex from Roscoe caught one of Wanda’s coming the other way.