Chapter Two

No dream catcher here; I prefer to chase my dreams.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Jerked from the dream, trapped between waking and sleep, Eva thrashed about, caught up in what was surely a fiendish web set forth by some unspeakable horror. Groaning and still unable to open her eyes, she realized that they weren't, in fact, sewn together by a vengeful witch. Fighting with the vast sheet until both arms were freed, she followed up her battle by slapping wildly toward the blaring alarm clock until it was silenced.

Was it too late to return to dreamland? That was some good stuff. The excitement, noise, anticipation, and fear all felt so real, intriguing, and inviting. The arid taste of evil still filled her mouth from the strange dream encounter. Rubbing more sleep from her eyes, Eva managed to snuggle deeper into the sheets and blankets, pulling a pillow closer, hoping that the blissful sleep and the adventurous dreams would return.

A gentle woof interrupted those attempts. This was quickly followed by the butting of a cold dog nose against her bare skin, pulling her away from any attempts to reenter dreamland.

"Nooo," she mumbled, trying to hold tight to the energy the dream had left reverberating through her bones. Moving meant letting some of it go, and she wanted to bask in it and roll around in it until the energy rolled through her. Sadly, Apollo didn't seem to want the same thing she did.

Dog-sitting Apollo while the neighbors enjoyed a long weekend away had seemed like a good idea; sometimes, the quiet, comforting house got lonely. But the cost of such doggy entertainment came at a steep price. The Great Pyrenees-Labrador mix was determined to stick with his schedule and was absolutely unforgiving if his breakfast wasn't delivered on time, as well as his thrice daily walks and playtime on demand. Eva's work and sleep schedule were no deterrent to his schedule either. Hearing him shift back and forth while simultaneously tapping his feet reminded Eva that the impatient dog could follow through with eighty pounds of dog to the stomach if breakfast weren't immediately forthcoming. Sadly, that lesson had been learned the hard way during a previous visit.

Dragging bleary eyes open with blankets pulled tightly around her, hoping to avoid any more cold dog noses, Eva was met by Apollo's hopeful golden-brown eyes. Thumping his whip of a tail, knowing half the battle was already won, the overgrown dog barely suppressed the slight whine begging to escape. Reaching out with another groan, Eva questioned her ability to speak words. Hopeful of stalling getting out of bed for even a few more moments, she idly rubbed Apollo"s soft ear. The fluffy beast moaned softly before letting out a putrid burp that enveloped Eva's face, immediately clearing up any confusion on her ability to speak as well as negating any chance of lingering in bed any longer.

"Apollo!" Waving a hand in front of her face to remove the foul odor while simultaneously groaning, Eva made a useless attempt not to inhale. "I love you, buddy, but save the ruck for someone else." Not that chastising him did any good. Making the same request for the last few mornings hadn't changed the outcome. She might think the dog didn't understand her requests if he kept this up.

With yet another moan and hopefully no more bad breath in her face, Eva began pushing the blankets and the clearly starving dog off her. "Apollo let's go. Let's feed you. Just quit hounding me."

With another more excited woof, Apollo took her movement as the perfect time to prance and jump toward her in response to the promised meal. Once he grew confident that Eva wasn't returning to her nest of blankets and pillows, his toenails clicked on the wooden floor as he ran toward the kitchen with another yip.

Eva took a deep breath to hold the manic dream energy inside her for as long as possible before committing to facing the day. With a quick flip of her wrist, she tossed the covers back into place, a half attempt to make the bed, before picking up two errant pillows that had fallen from the bed sometime during the night. Her king-sized bed with its wrought-iron frame took up most of the small master bedroom, completely dwarfing it. Although it was entirely out of place in the house that had probably last been updated in the 1980s, she loved the bed and had been thrilled at picking it out a few years ago, as it established that she was firmly entrenched in adulthood. Pulling her robe on as she made her way down the hallway, she made a quick detour into her office and pushed the button to turn her laptop on for the day.

Apollo impatiently pushed up against Eva, attempting to herd her toward the waiting food bowl in the kitchen, and she poured him a generous helping of dog food. She briefly offered a silent thanks for fancy upgraded coffee makers with timers and her ability to remember to set them, especially after a long evening working at the coffee shop, followed up with a few hours of writing. Her second shift of the week was tonight, but after that, she had freedom for the next five days, as long as Apollo's owners didn't delay their afternoon return. Working a few shifts a week at the shop kept her from becoming a hermit. As she poured the strong brew, the hearty smell enveloped her, and she paused for a moment to enjoy it, remembering the hint of whiskey that had hung in the air of her dream. Wondering if it would be too much to add a nip to her cup, she was also unable to wait for even another second, wincing as she sipped the still-too-hot beverage.

Wrapping it up with a quick trip outside for a still impatient but now fed Apollo, she mentally began cataloging the dream while it still sat fresh and heavy on her mind.

Pulling her robe tighter around her, she took her coffee back to her booted-up laptop and pushed a few papers and books around to create a spot for the cup. In her immaculate house, her desk was an oddity. It overflowed with pens, pencils, scraps of paper, and odd bits of writing that seemed ready to fall off. A stack of old books perched precariously on the edge, and a simple nudge would have tumbled them to the floor.

Like her bed, the desk was oversized. It was one of the few purchases she'd made on her path to adulthood after inheriting her grandmother"s two-bedroom house at the age of eighteen. For a few years, she couldn"t afford to change the home furnishings, and when she could, she discovered that the oversized furniture she was drawn to didn't fit the place she called home. Much of the house still contained the smaller, older pieces that her gram had purchased years ago, while one bedroom housed her bed and the other her desk and books, with clothes overflowing the closets of both rooms.

Gram not only left Eva her home and all its possessions, but she'd also left tidbits of wisdom. Eva's favorite had been Gram's constant warning, "Watch your words flying around little ones. Words have power, so much power." So, Eva did, and she learned that words did, in fact, have power, and thankfully, such power earned her some serious money as well. Eva yoked and tamed the power of words through her writing. Although she sometimes imagined that the opposite might be true, she was a slave to the word.

Once again rubbing sleep out of her brown eyes before tucking an errant strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, Eva began to slide into her workday. Taking another swig of coffee, still wrapped in her robe, she settled deeper into her oversized office chair. Picking up a wayward pencil and scrap of paper that currently only held a few scribbles, she began jotting down the highlights of her dream, underlining a significant word here and there and adding a question mark at the end of others.

With practiced ease, Apollo slipped by Eva's feet to lie under the desk, sighing deeply as if he couldn't have planned a better day. Eva absently rubbed him with her foot. Another wayward lock fell in her face, and with a puff, she gathered up all her thick, shoulder-length hair, twisting and pulling it into a haphazard bun; with a grimace, she noted that it was way past time to wash the mass.

Pulling that morning"s notes, as well as other scraps of paper, closer, she began earnestly tapping at her laptop. Book four in her series "Vamps in Hollywood" finally had the plot twist: the arc she'd been waiting for! Someone or something was stalking the mysterious and wildly successful exotic actress Fala Ishto! Would Fala's vampire origins remain a secret? Had someone discovered she wasn't a typical Hollywood starlet? Or was something even more nefarious after her? And why? What could frighten a two-thousand-year-old vampire who had no natural enemies?

The entire dream had been so clear this time, but often, after waking up, the memories proved fleeting. History had taught her to commit everything to paper before the tendrils of the dream blew away. Sometimes, they were just quick, short scenes, but this dream had been full and vivid, making it even more vital to put it to paper before it faded. This was the missing piece she'd been looking for. This book would continue to test Fala and her survival ability while she remained hidden in plain sight in present-day Hollywood.

Eva alternated between writing notes and typing into her laptop as she fleshed out the beautiful Fala's evening out and the visit from the mysterious cold entity. The minutes turned to hours, and the dregs of her coffee had long since grown cold when Apollo began impatiently nudging her to move her on to the next part of his day. Stretching herself up and pulling her neck side to side, she checked her phone for the time.

"Awe, buddy"—she ruffled the fur on his neck as he began to bounce side to side— "you're right, it's paws-itively time to get a move on."

He let out a happy yelp as Eva stood, stretching her limbs.

Prancing to the door, he waited eagerly for Eva to change into comfortable jogging pants, a tee shirt and pull on her walking shoes before she slid the leash on him. Then, leading the way out the door, he went out for his daily exploration of the neighborhood. Eva's house sat on the edge of town, saddled next to a large community park with acres of woodland and several miles of rolling trails. Often Apollo lunged ahead, followed by sudden stops to sniff a particularly interesting scent. As the entrance to the wooded trail came into view, he picked up the pace so they could quickly escape the heat of the late spring Ohio sun. The pea gravel crunching under their feet was the only sound as they walked, meeting no other pedestrians or bikers. Even the usual cacophony of birds was taking a break from their spring mating cries.

Eva held the leash loosely, knowing that although her neighbors had trained Apollo well enough, an errant squirrel or chipmunk might prove to be too much of a distraction for him to stay by her side. As Apollo happily sniffed his way down the trail, Eva allowed her mind to wander back to the words she'd been writing.

This fourth book about the vampiric Fala Ishto was proving more stressful than the first three combined. Of course, she'd written the first book for herself and put her overly active imagination to paper. Covertly, she'd joined online writing groups, then acquired beta readers, before finding herself with an agent, a contract, and what she'd thought was a stand-alone novel. Well before it went to print, book two begged to be told, and with book three, she was flying on success and excitement. In contrast, she told the story of a young priestess serving the ancient goddess Nephthys, who, as a young girl, had grown up splashing and mucking along the shores of the River Nile with her sisters before being called to serve the goddess. However, her innocent world was shattered when a zealot priest attempted to gain favor with Osiris and conquer death at the cost of the young priestess of the temple. The zealot's plan didn't take into account that as God of the Dead, Osiris wouldn't appreciate the interference. The young priestess, or Raven, proceeded to travel the world as one of the original vampires before entering the twenty-first century and the world of movie-making.

Now, nerves plagued Eva; she knew the success of the previous books and the readers' expectations. Although she knew how fickle fans could be, she also truly didn't want to disappoint them. Book four was the albatross. Although success had never been her goal, now that she'd tasted it, the fear of failure and disappointing others nearly crippled her. Last night's dream had reawakened her creativity and broken down the walls of fear that had sprung up over the previous few weeks.

Fala had a new, unknown enemy to battle. Although Eva Nance wasn't certain yet what enemy would frighten an infallible vampire, she knew her writing alter ego, A. Scriver, would create something truly remarkable for the heroine to overcome.

Caught up in thoughts of chapter outlines, plot holes, and character development, she nearly stumbled over Apollo when he stopped dead on the trail, staring directly into the dense foliage.

"Hey, buddy, easy there. Some of us only have two legs."

Late spring had brought a plethora of plants to central Ohio. Vines, Jack-in-the-pulpits, and leggy saplings cast shadows that made it impossible for her to determine what had caught the dog's attention. Tightening her grip on his leash and bracing herself in case this was one of the times he decided to forgo the leash rules and make a break for whatever was hidden in the shadows, Eva prepared for the large dog's next move. But Apollo didn't budge. He remained alert with fluffy ears pointed to the sky and woods while the hair slowly rose along his spine. He let out a long, low growl that ended in a sharp bark, prancing in place but not brave enough to break free and investigate on his own.

Raising her sunglasses, Eva squinted into the area that had captured his attention, but the shadows protected whatever might be hidden within the foliage. With a whine, Apollo looked at Eva and backed away. As Eva peered into the forest for a moment, the dark shadows seemed to move slowly around and, for a second, swelled and expanded out into the small trail, blocking even more of the sunlight that found its way through the trees.

A black squirrel slunk to the edge of the tree"s shadows, stopping to sit on its back legs as its tiny eyes stared toward the pair with an intensity that suggested anger, if that were even possible. A nervous laugh escaped Eva at the momentary relief that it was just a squirrel. Of course, a squirrel. Crouching back to all fours, the squirrel moved a few steps forward and, as Eva blinked, the shadows seemed to ooze along with it, keeping the rodent just out of the sunshine.

As the shadows appeared to bob and weave before her eyes, Eva was transported back into last night's dream for a split second. A low, primitive scream shot out of her mouth as she joined Apollo in his backward walk. Somehow, she knew that if the shadows reached her, she would be frozen in place, powerless, just as Fala had been.

Powerless. Helpless. Drowning. Sorrow.

Apollo and Eva continued to slowly back away from the squirrel as it assessed them again with a strange, beady glint in its eyes before crouching down as if to boldly walk closer. The dark shadows drew around them, following the black creature closer and closer.

"Come on, boy, don't let those squirrels bug you; you're barking up the wrong tree," Eva muttered with false bravado toward the unusual creature whose black eyes suddenly flooded with a flash of red.

One slight misstep and the pea gravel rolled under Eva's feet. Before she knew it, she was on her butt on the ground, the backs of her arms and hands burning. She was up as quickly as she'd gone down, not wanting to take her eyes off the red-eyed squirrel and the strange, intense shadows. Shadows that were now gone. The squirrel had also disappeared from sight. The trail ahead and behind them was empty. Thankfully, no one had seen her embarrassing fall. Scanning the edge of the trail, she curled her hands up despite the burning from the scrapes and bits of gravel stuck to them.

Nothing. Everything was just as it should be. Apollo relaxed and gave an almost suspicious scan of the tree line, as if he hadn't been a quivering mess a moment ago.

They headed home; thankfully, the return trip was uneventful.

"Nice, nice." Pleased with what she saw, Eva reviewed her day"s work on the laptop before ensuring it was saved. This time, she'd set her alarm to stop her progress in time to play ball with Apollo before she dropped him off at his owner's back yard and made her shift at A Latte of Coffee. They were due to arrive home within the hour, and he would happily soak in the spring sunshine until they returned.

Sliding the laptop, notes, and a few extra pens into her backpack, she mused that if things were slow she could always write to settle her mind, which was now bubbling, overflowing with ideas. Two chapters were done, and several more had a solid outline. She reluctantly admitted that this was precisely why she kept working a few shifts a week at the coffee shop. It was too easy to get wrapped up in the writing, too easy to go days without talking to anyone—Apollo didn't count—too easy to stay in pajamas all day drinking coffee, imagining another world.

The sunshine, which had continued all day, allowed her to ride her bike in comfort a few miles to the only coffee shop in town. Nice days made Eva forget her tendency to curse her commitment to riding in the rain and sometimes even snow. Entering through the back door allowed her to park quickly and jump into work. Grabbing an apron, she walked right into a surprising mid-week afternoon rush.

After a quick nod hello to her slightly frazzled co-worker Joanne, who looked relieved to see her a few minutes early, she jumped right into the fray of things. The beginning of the warm weather ensured that people were out, thirsty for iced coffees and boba teas. The women blended and scooped, falling into sync with the ease of two who had worked together for several years, quickly catching up on the waiting orders. From the corner of her eye, Eva could see Joanne bouncing along to the upbeat music of a small-town singer-songwriter as she blended a frozen drink, clearly enjoying the moment now that she wasn't overwhelmed with locals wanting their java.

When the machine paused, Eva asked loudly, "Joanne, what did the coffees say before their night out?"

With a grin, Joanne shrugged and poured the frozen concoction into a plastic cup. "Let"s stir up some trouble." Good-natured but subdued laughter came from the impatient customers, who were beginning to thaw as the line moved more quickly now.

This time, it was Eva's turn to shrug and raise her brows. "Tough crowd today," she commented, knowing that many of them had used up their patience waiting for their orders. Passing a man his cold brew with a wink and a parroted request to "have a brew-tiful day," she wiped her hands on the towel, mentally working on the following order. The man nodded and dropped his change into the tip jar.

Once things settled down, Joanne swatted Eva with the tea towel she was using to dry the water along the workspace. "Good to see you. I have one for you today."

"Let's hear it." Eva pulled her high ponytail down to smooth it back in place before replacing the hair tie. Between the bike ride and the rush, her hair had taken a beating, and the heavy, silky hair took advantage, using the opportunity to escape from its confines.

It really needs to be washed, she reminded herself again.

"Why did Adele cross the road?" Not giving Eva a chance to respond, Joanne continued, rushing her words with a giggle, "To say hello from the other side."

"Perfect, that's what I like to hear." Eva nodded in appreciation with a chortle; who didn't like a good pun? "Might want to work on your timing a bit."

Joanne let out her own chuckle, shrugging as her curly, dark hair bobbed at her shoulders.

Knowing that Joanne could have handled the midday rush alone, Eva nudged the tip jar toward the single mom. "Don't worry about me; I have all night still." No one knew how Eva made her money. They either didn't care, or they assumed that she'd received at least a small inheritance from her gram and that her occasional shift subsidized her bills.

Eva knew that as a single mother of two preteens, Joanne's budget was tight. Despite the initial protest, Joanne wouldn't argue about the fairness of splitting tips and happily went to work tallying the small bills and change, marking the end of her shift.

Eva busied herself with straightening, refilling, and wiping clean the self-serve bar. "Where's Cora? I thought she was here until I got here?" The owner and their boss didn't usually leave until late afternoon, preferring to be around to help during the busiest hours.

"It was slow earlier, and she had a contractor coming to her house today for that pool they're putting in, so she took off a little early." Joanne finished counting and tracking the tips on the tally sheet before sliding it back into the drawer and pocketing her cash. "I wish we worked together more often. You're such a hoot, and customers seem much happier when you're here." Leaning back on the counter, she examined the work area. "You caught on so quickly too. Were you a barista or a server before here?"

Sadness flashed through Eva, pushing it aside while flashing a too-bright smile. She truthfully responded to her friend, "You guessed it. I've always been a barista." To be completely truthful, she'd worked at A Latte of Coffee in various aspects since she turned sixteen just over thirteen years ago. Joanne had been slinging coffee alongside her for around eight of those years.

Eva liked to chalk her blanking on how long they'd worked together, or the fact that Eva had been there years longer than her, up to a frazzled single mom brain, but it happened too often not to still hurt. Joanne frequently mistakenly talked like they barely knew each other and was usually surprised when Eva repeated back something that Joanne had told her in the past. If she worked with her regularly, Joanne tended to remember more about her and the things they shared. However, the opposite was also true. Once, when Eva took three weeks off to meet a writing deadline on book three, Joanne determined she was a new hire and attempted to train her on the running of the coffee house when she returned for her two regular shifts a week. Face it, she was forgettable.

Not for the first time, Joanne told Eva, "If my brother were still single, I'd set you guys up. I think you'd be perfect for him. Not like that idiot wife of his," she added with an eye roll, still salty that he'd settled several hours away, closer to his wife's family.

Nodding, Eva didn't feel like explaining once again that she had, in fact, set Eva and Jonathan up. Yes, Joanne's parents had a theme when naming them; in fact, their father was Joseph. "Yup, too bad." There was no point in explaining that their chaotic relationship had consisted of a few dates, followed by a few fumbled nights, then ended with her avoiding Johnny until he dragged himself back to Cincy for college. Thankfully, he'd since met his wife, who was, in fact, a super sweet girl, and they had a toddler now. Eva did her best to avoid them whenever they visited, not wanting a repeat of the dramatic summer from a few years ago. Letting men close was a recipe for disaster. After several failed attempts at boundaries, Eva kept sex to faceless strangers whom she could easily sneak out on after the deed.

"I hate to cut and run, but I'm out of here, if you think you can handle it. Got some big plans tonight." Joanne's attempt to leer was entirely out of place for the placid mom.

"Big plans with a book, I'm guessing."

"You got it, and a nice soak in the tub—if the kids let me. I"d call out tomorrow if the latest "Vamps in Hollywood" book came out. But alas, I must settle for a werewolf romance until she gets the next one out." A romance fan through and through, Joanne had a special place in her heart for paranormal romance and even a bigger space for vampires specifically. "I'll load up the washer in the back and start it before I head out."

"Yeah, yeah, get out of here." Eva tossed her wet cloth at Joanne, who caught it and tossed it back to Eva, who nearly missed it as it headed for her face. "Go," she ordered, red-faced, before returning to wipe the already clean counters.

Laughing as she walked out, Joanne tossed over her shoulder, "Fingers crossed for big tips tonight for you. Gotta build up that travel fund!"

Smiling, Eva began wiping again, shaking her head in disbelief. Of all the things for Joanne to remember, it was Eva's travel fund; a travel fund for a trip that never seemed to happen. Still, it was nice that she remembered.