Chapter Seven
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CYRIL’S EYES STARTED stinging as soon as he realized what was happening, except they weren’t his eyes.
He didn’t know whose body he was in, whose life he was about to see end, but the thought that this was happening again so soon after Marcus and Diana made him want to scream.
He tried to open his mouth to do just that, but of course, he couldn’t.
It wasn’t his mouth. It wasn’t his body.
He looked around, trying to understand where he was.
Whoever he was in was sitting on the couch watching TV.
The rest of the room was mostly dark, as was the sky outside the window.
Cyril stared at the building outside the window for way too long before he realized that he recognized it.
The morgue was in that neighborhood, and Cyril walked past this building every time he went there, which happened pretty often.
He was pretty sure he knew which building and apartment the person he was in lived in.
That gave him a thrill. He hadn’t recognized anything in Marcus’s home, and while he’d found out where Diana lived thanks to Rachel, it had been too late. When he and Vale had gotten there, she was dead.
But this person—from what Cyril could see, it looked like a man, probably young—lived in a place Cyril already knew. If Cyril woke up, he could go there and hopefully stop the killer.
But how could he? He’d never managed to until the person he was in died. That was what he was here to see. He wasn’t going to let that happen, though. He didn’t know if there was anything he could do to stop it, but he would definitely try.
The man turned his attention back to the TV screen after looking out the window for a few seconds, but that didn’t last long.
He grabbed his phone from the couch next to him and unlocked it.
Cyril felt bad about reading personal messages, but it wasn’t his fault that the man scrolled to a chat he was having with someone to read them.
There was nothing Cyril could do to avoid it.
At least it gave him a name. The person this man was talking to called him Morgan in one of the texts. That gave Cyril a name and a possible address. Now he just needed to get out of the dream.
He knew it was too late when he felt something change.
He didn’t think Morgan noticed because he was still focused on his texts, but Cyril was sure someone was in the apartment with them.
He’d never had any success manipulating the body he was in during any of his dreams, but he needed to do something, and he needed to do it now.
This was probably the only opportunity he’d have to save Morgan’s life.
He’d already lost two people. He wasn’t going to lose a third.
He realized that it might bring him closer to the Threshold, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
He just wasn’t quite sure how to do it. He was used to manipulating death and people who’d passed away.
Morgan was very much alive, so nothing Cyril could do would help.
But Morgan was a necromancer, so maybe Cyril could try using necromancy anyway.
At the very least, Morgan was bound to recognize that a necromancer was messing with him, right?
Morgan finally noticed movement from the corner of his eye.
He turned in that direction, jerking up from the couch when he saw a man standing there.
Just like Cyril had suspected, the killer was young.
He looked like he was in his early twenties, with blond hair and a casual expression.
He didn’t speak of murder, but Cyril knew better.
“Who the fuck are you?” Morgan asked. “How did you get in here?”
The killer shook his head. “That doesn’t matter.”
“What the fuck do you want?”
The killer took a step forward. “I’m here to save your family.”
Cyril knew how this was going to end. He sucked in a breath and, for the first time ever in his life, used his necromancer ability while dealing with the living. He wasn’t in his body, but hopefully, Morgan was powerful enough for Cyril to do something about this.
Cyril couldn’t feel Morgan’s emotions, which was a good thing. He didn’t want to feel the fear and pain, the confusion, or anything like that. He needed to wake up so he could grab Vale, and together, they could come to Morgan’s rescue.
“What the fuck?” Morgan breathed out.
Cyril ignored that and focused on waking up.
He was pretty sure he’d gotten Morgan’s attention, but that it meant Morgan was distracted, which, in turn, meant that Cyril wouldn’t have a lot of time.
Luckily, this place wasn’t far from his apartment, but he’d still need time to get in the car and drive here.
It might still give the killer enough time to hurt Morgan, or even kill him.
Knowing that was the last push Cyril needed. One moment, he was in Morgan’s body, and the next, he was gasping for air, sitting up in his bed. The light turned on before he could move, illuminating himself and Vale, who looked worried.
Cyril didn’t have time to explain. He scrambled out of bed, knowing Vale would do the same.
“Cyril?” Vale called out as he followed, just like Cyril had known he would.
“There’s a new victim. I know where he lives.”
Cyril could’ve kissed Vale for not asking questions.
Instead, his boyfriend’s expression turned grim.
He nodded and reached for his nightstand, and Cyril knew what he was going to take.
Cyril didn’t waste time watching him. He shoved his feet into the closest pair of shoes he could find, then hurried out the door, Vale right behind him.
His boyfriend now had a gun, and while Cyril hoped he wouldn’t have to use it, he was glad that at least one of them would be prepared if the killer was still there.
That man wasn’t Cyril’s priority, though.
No, his priority was saving Morgan. He didn’t care if they had to hunt the killer down at a later date.
He wasn’t going to let another person die on his watch.
“Where to?” Vale asked as they climbed into the car.
“The morgue.”
Vale didn’t ask for any deeper explanation. He nodded and drove them in that direction, clearly focused. Luckily, it didn’t take that much time at all to reach the area. At this time of night, there weren’t many people around.
Cyril gave Vale more precise directions, and as soon as Vale stopped the car in front of Morgan’s building, Cyril was out.
He should’ve known better. When Vale grabbed his arm and pulled him back, Cyril almost yelled at him.
He was terrified that by the time they reached Morgan’s apartment, it would be too late.
“I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger to save someone,” Vale said. “I’ll do everything in my power to save this person.”
“Morgan,” Cyril told him.
Vale nodded. “Morgan. I promise I’ll do everything in my power to save him, but not if I have to lose you instead. You’re going to stay behind me and do anything I tell you to do.”
“I swear I will.” Because Cyril wasn’t an idiot. He knew that if he took the lead, he’d probably get hurt, or worse.
“Let’s go,” Vale told him.
They walked into the building without any problem. The front door’s lock seemed to be broken, and no one tried to stop them. Cyril was surprised when he heard voices. He didn’t expect people to be awake.
“Which floor?” Vale asked.
“I’m not sure, but from the point of view out the window, I’d say fourth or fifth.”
“We’ll take the stairs.”
That was fine with Cyril, although once they were on the staircase, he was stunned to see people sitting there. What was going on?
* * * *
VALE HADN’T TAKEN HIS gun out, which was a good thing considering the people on the staircase. What was happening? Why were these people sitting here in their pajamas?
“What’s going on?” Cyril asked.
Vale didn’t think he was asking anyone in particular, but a young woman answered anyway. “We were woken up by screaming. Someone tried to attack Morgan.”
Vale was about to ask her to give them more information, but Cyril beat him to it. His eyes widened, and he moved closer to the woman. “Oh, my God. Is Morgan okay?”
“I think so. He scared us, though. We don’t know if the attacker is still around, and I didn’t want to stay alone in my apartment in case he was.”
“I’m going to go and check on Morgan. I think you should go back home, maybe not alone.” He looked from the young woman to another woman who was hovering close by. “Maybe you two could stay together?”
The other woman looked a bit older and quickly nodded. “We will. Morgan would be dead right now if it wasn’t for his roommate, so it’s a good idea.”
Cyril hadn’t mentioned a roommate when he’d woken up, but then, he hadn’t mentioned much at all. Apparently, though, Morgan owed his life to that person. That was the first win when it came to Cyril’s dreams. Vale wasn’t sure what any of it meant just yet, but they would find out.
“Can you remind me of Morgan’s apartment number?” Cyril asked. “Usually, we meet at mine.”
“Yeah. It’s forty-one C,” the woman said.
The other one glanced at her, frowning, but Cyril and Vale had what they were looking for.
Vale grabbed Cyril’s arm and pulled him up the stairs, hoping the two women wouldn’t start wondering who they were.
They couldn’t afford to have the police called on them, and since Morgan had been attacked, someone had probably already called the cops. They didn’t have a lot of time.
“I didn’t notice a roommate during the dream,” Cyril murmured as they climbed. “Do you think he fought off the killer?”
“I think that it sounds like he did.”
“That’s good. I saw the killer this time. He talked to Morgan.”
That got Vale’s attention. “Did you recognize him?”