January Dreams by Carrigan Richards (best fiction books of all time txt) 📕

“Vincent, please don’t leave me again,” I tell him, with tears in my eyes.

“I will do everything in my power, but sometimes there’s nothing I can do. There will always be wars among us and the Elves.”

I nod, understanding.

“Believe me, Megan. I hate leaving you.”

“I’m so lonely when you’re gone. What if they put me in a cell again?” I know I’m making him feel guilty, but I can’t help it. I need a distraction so I won’t think of Casper and this Elf thing. Can I even still find the Jewel and bring it back to them? Being in that cell made me lose my willpower it seems.

“They will never hurt you again. I will kill every single one of them if they ever lay a hand on you. You have my word.”

I hear the strong conviction in his voice, and I know he means it. A tear escapes from my eyes.

“Do not cry. I am here. I love you, mon trésor.” He kisses me and I wrap my arms around him, wishing with everything inside me that it was Casper. “Now that you are recovering, we shall have a party. A masquerade. Those are your favorites.” He smiles.

“Only if you wear my favorite mask.”

“Always.”

He leaves, and I lose my smile. They killed Casper. Florence. Everyone that I love. Once I find the Jewel, I’m gone. I will never return to this place or to Vincent.

Chapter Forty-One

I’m so tired by the time work ends. I slowly got back into the groove of my school and work schedule this week, but I’m still taking baby steps. I hate it. As I get close to my car, I see Vincent leaning against it with a red rose in his hand and a sweet smile on his face. I can’t help but smile.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“Just something nice.” He hands it to me, and I inhale the sweet scent. He puts his hands on my hips and pulls me closer. My heart races when he does that. “I was curious if you would like to go to the prom with me.” With the way his lips curl into a smoldering smile and the hopeful look in his eyes, I can’t refuse him.

“Of course.”

His smile widens and he crushes his lips to mine, kissing me so hard it almost hurts. He slightly pulls back. “You’re mine,” he whispers across my cheek.

“I am yours and you are mine.”

Vincent’s mouth is on mine. A flash explodes in my mind and I see Vincent standing near a cliff, watching the waves down below, weeping.

He tries pulling away from me, but I stay with the vision. I recognize the cliff. His grief overwhelms me. His suffocation and the excruciating pain feels like being pulled underwater. His heart is breaking as he peers down at the chaotic water.

We pull apart.

“What was that?” I ask, breathless. The cliff is the same one from my dreams.

I see tears gleam in his eyes, but he doesn’t answer. Why was he weeping?

“What was that cliff? I’ve seen it before.”

His eyes flick to mine with an intense gaze. “What?”

“The cliff. I recognize it.”

Vincent stares at me as if he knows something or can detect my lying, but I feel like he’s holding something back as well. Then I remember something. In my dreams, Vincent’s gift was showing me memories. Did my dreams predict that too?

“What are these visions? Are you doing that? Are you making me see things?”

He bows his head but holds my hands tightly. “Yes.”

I stiffen. “What? How is that possible?” I try to pry my hands from his grasp, but he won’t let go. “What’s going on? What are these visions?” My breathing picks up and I feel everything around me closing in.

“Please, calm down.”

“How are you doing that? Why did you show me you weeping? You once told me about a girl who broke your heart. Were you weeping for her?”

“I have no control over visions.” He pauses. “And yes, for her.”

My heart drops and my eyes water. “Why are you still thinking about her? Do you love her?”

The look in his eyes hardens. “Yes.”

I draw a sharp breath and suddenly feel queasy.

“Megan it isn’t what you think.”

I can be rational. I’m not going to get upset. I will let him explain. “Is it your mom?”

He shakes his head.

“Who is she?” I demand trying to keep what little restrain I have left. “Why would you get involved with me if you’re still crying over someone else?” I push him hard, but he moves back and puts his hands on either side of me on the car.

“Don’t get dramatic. Let me explain.”

I push him again and he sighs removing his hands. I open my car door, but he shuts it back. “Vincent,” I shout. I lose the battle with the tears. I’m so angry and hurt and confused. My boyfriend is actually the one causing visions, as if that’s even possible, and he’s still in love with someone else.

“Megan, it’s you,” he finally says.

My body stills. “What?”

“I’m crying over you.”

“What does that even mean?”

He hesitates and sighs, running a hand through his thick hair. “Don’t be upset,” he says, moving closer. “I have no control over what you see. I don’t want to fight.”

I rub my face and lean against my car. “I don’t even know what’s going on. What are these visions? You seem to know more than you’re letting on.”

“I’ll explain it. Not now, please. Don’t be upset. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Why can’t he explain it now? Maybe if I go home, I can keep my distance. Or something. I want to leave. “I need to go. I’ll call you.”

“Megan—”

“I just-I need