The Reckoning 3

Hey there, lovelies!

I just want to say thank you to everyone that is taking the time to read this story as well as the other submissions. This contest is about a lot more than just writers; our readers play a huge role in what we do, so I would like to thank each and every one of you for taking time to read and vote on these stories

In regards to this story, I would just like to say that this is not something I would usually submit for a Valentine's Day contest, but I fell in love with the characters and storyline and decided, "hey, what the heck?" I think there's a little something in here for almost every type of reader, but people who like stories from the nonhuman category will really appreciate this one! Oh, and people that like scenes of forfeited virginity will enjoy the steamy scenes I packed into this work.

As always, feel free to vote and comment. I love hearing from my readers; I know a lot of people just say that, but I really do love the interactions we have.

Until later,

Happy reading!

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Preface

His eyes were the boldest shade of blue; I was relieved to find they didn't match his soul. Sebastian had warmth inside of him, a thirst to do good. That's why I trusted him with my virginity and, in turn, my life; for, it was becoming apparent he could not take one without the other.

Part One: Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

It started with a dream that came to me in late January. To be honest, it was quite unexpected.

That night, I had come home from my peer review group at school, dead tired. Damn things always ended late. I took a shower, ate some leftovers and went straight to bed; I had tons of errands to run early the next morning with my roommate and needed the rest. I was unaware that particular night, I would find none.

I nestled into my bed and sleep found me almost instantly—so did he.

"Finally. Come here, Riley," he said, crooking his index finger.

If I didn't respond because of his silky voice, it was because of his eyes. The abnormal shade of blue beckoned to me, even as an orange-gold tint began to bleed into them.

The man's face was a stranger to me, but I recognized his essence, like I had come in contact with his soul at a different time and that terrified me. My mother always said I had a strange relationship with fear; that I was more attracted to it than anyone she had ever known. It appeared I was no different in my dreams. I walked toward him as he commanded—what else could he make me do?—and I watched him, trying to solve the mystery of his identity.

"There you are," he finally said. His eyes were almost totally that gold-ish orange tint from before, but the unusual color did nothing to lessen his attractiveness. His nearly-black hair was parted to the side and slicked back. He sported a masculine bit of stubble made even sexier by the pouty lips that were quirked into a half smile. Even with his angular face, he held a good measure of warmth and softness. I looked away, hoping he hadn't noticed my gawking, but there wasn't much to look at.

There was no specific room surrounding us, no setting to speak of; it was like we stood on nothing. I would have believed we were floating in emptiness were it not for the single, violet couch in which the handsome man sat on.

"Let's have a chat," he purred, bringing my attention back to him.

My senses, finally, kicked in. "Why do I feel like I know you, and how do you know my name? Who are you?"

He, outright, smiled now. "So many questions, so little time. My name is to be withheld until a certain time; but for now, you may call me Sedo."

"Sedo?" I laughed. "You want me to call you a name that sounds like it was ripped from The Matrix?"

He shook his head. "Even in the face of death you endeavor to maintain your sense of humor. The Skies are cruel."

I smirked. "Death, huh? Right. What does the sky have to do with anything?"

"Everything."

I crossed my arms. "Why are you in my dream?"

He lifted his face and our eyes met. Too many emotions flittered around his blue orbs: excitement, fear, doubt...I had no idea what he was thinking to cause such a varying display of emotion. "I want you to know me before we meet in person. You have to see me as more than a monster...just in case."

"Just in case, what? You make no sense."

He rubbed his chin, his smile gone. "That's the idea."

I shook my head. I knew this dream man wanted to offer as little information as possible, but of one thing he was certain, and I sought to exploit it. "So, you're going to kill me? Is that in here, or in real life?"

His laugh echoed throughout the room, a soulful melody that rang through every cell of my body. "There's much more to it than that." He shook his head. "God, I hope I don't kill you," he chuckled. "I like you, Riley."

Despite his blatant threat, I found myself pleased with the fact this dangerously sexy, mystery man admitted to liking me. Too bad he's a figment of my imagination, I thought. I ran my fingers through my hair, chuckling. "And now, it's apparent you mean in real life. I always knew I'd go out in a strange way. I never imagined it'd be by vampire attack, though."

That's when he really lost it. His laugh was so hearty he nearly fell out of his chaise. "Vampire! You must be kidding!"

Heat made its way to my cheeks, likely showing Sedo my embarrassment. I crossed my arms. "What's so funny? You look like one!"

"How do I look like a vampire? I am intrigued."

"You're pale-ish...and attractive. I just thought with the killing and all...."

"I'm a little pale because I've spent much time in Washington," he laughed. "I enjoy the rain, but I've recently relocated to pursue some other...interests."

I frowned. "Maybe if you stop laughing at me, we can get to why you're parading around my head. That's an interest of mine."

"I've told you. I want you to know me as more than a monster."

"And what kind of monster would that be?"

"I'm a Shifter."

"Like Jacob Black and the wolf pack?" He did say he lived in Washington.

"God, no." His face screwed up in disgust. "My story is more complex and lacks the teenage, love triangle aspect."

"You are more than welcome to explain what you mean, then. I have time."

"No, you don't. Your alarm is set to go off in about," he looked at his watch, "three minutes."

I rolled my eyes. "Right, and you orchestrated this so you'd have plenty of time to ensure I'd be left with more questions than answers. I'm not sure how much I like you, Sedo."

A frown marred his features. "It's probably better if you don't like me. That way, when I end up killing you, it won't hurt as much—less of a betrayal, I guess," he shrugged and rose from his sitting position. He turned and walked away from me, calling over his shoulder, "I'll see you soon."

I woke up the next morning with a bad attitude.

I knew Sedo wasn't real and that his threats in my dream were idle; but he still managed to annoy me.

"Stupid, Sedo; Matrix rip-off," I huffed as my hand slapped my buzzing alarm clock.

The better part of that day was spent stewing over the dream man and his cryptic death threats; the other part was spent looking for him. Everyone around me was a slightly pale, dark-haired guy that day, much to my annoyance. I thought by the end of the day I would have coached myself into knowing I would never see Sedo—that he didn't exist outside my dreams and he wasn't going to hurt me—but I still managed to peek over my shoulder at every opportune moment. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Are you on the run or something?" my roommate asked. "You're looking like you expect someone to hop out of the bushes."

"Why would I be on the run, Abby? My record is spotless."

"Maybe you're just nervous about Lover's Week? I mean, I would be."

Ugh, Lover's Week.

It's, apparently, not enough to force singles into celebrating a day meant for couples, but the school had decided to make the Valentine's Day festivities last for the entire week. The. Entire. Week.

There was bound to be explosions red, pink, and white everywhere and I would have to endure the sight of frat boys dressed in diapers with feathered wings strapped to their backs that they purchased from Party City.

And the idiots would most likely be handing out flavored condoms again. I rolled my eyes, recalling last year's incident when I punched one of them in the gut for being overly presumptuous with his particular cherry-flavored rubber.

Though all this was nightmarish, I knew Abby was referring to my parents as being the reasoning behind my nervousness. The parental units, though, were the furthest thing from my mind.

I waved a hand to exemplify my extreme nonchalance. "I'm legally of age to make my own choices; and, like I told them, being Jehovah's Witness was never a decision I made for myself."

"But you chickened out for the Halloween stuff...not to mention Thanksgiving and Christmas."

I huffed. "I told you, I'm fine."

"Well, quit looking over your shoulder, then. It's starting to creep me out," she shuddered.

And that was the reason I decided against telling Abby about Sedo. A bloodless paper cut had the possibility of freaking Abby out; so, telling her about a man who was convinced he would turn into an animal and murder me was not an option—no matter if this man lived solely in my dreams or not.

At first glance, you would never peg Abby for someone that struggled with anxiety. She didn't walk around wringing her hands, her hair wasn't all frizzy and unkempt like a lot of the girls I saw at the doctor's office that battled the same condition. Abby, in my opinion, was the poster child for traditional beauty: she had full, blonde waves that reached the middle of her back, doe-like brown eyes, lips the color of Snow White's poisoned apple. On the surface, she looked like a regular girl, but underneath her beauty was her issue—fear. Her fear of the unknown made her nervous...so nervous her parents took her to the same shrink I was forced to meet with. Abby and I met due to a receptionist booking error at Dr. Beatty's office and have been friends ever since; but, best friend or not, Abby had enough stress to deal with in her life, and I wasn't about to give her another unnecessary load to bear.

Sedo was a secret I kept to myself until the start of February. He would've been a secret forever if he wouldn't have sent a few dozen red and black roses to the apartment. They sat on the snowy porch in pricey-looking vases, and were impossible to hide.

"I know the red ones have to do with love, but don't the black ones have something to do with death?" Abby asked.

"I think so." I knew so, but she didn't need to be reassured of that fact.

"So this," she pulled the card from my hand, "'S' loves you, but wants to kill you."

"Or maybe it kills him to love me?" I threw in for her benefit. Her guess was probably a great deal truer than mine.

"Ohh, maybe! Who is this 'S'? Why didn't I know about him? And why does this card say 'tonight'?"

I snatched the paper from her, hoping there was a mistake and I was the butt of a joke; but how could I have been? No one knew about Sedo; I had made sure of that. Even at my weekly psychiatric assessment meetings I made no mention of him, and I was, usually, brutally honest at those hour-long sessions. The last thing I wanted to mention to Dr. Beatty was my nocturnal beau because I knew what would happen. I would sit in that stupid red chair and tell him all about my dream and he would find the truth: I was attracted to the nonexistent nonhuman.

It's one thing to have the figment of your imagination talk to you and tell you he has to kill you, but to say you are sexually attracted to this being goes beyond the pale. If I thought my psychiatric assessments were too probing now, I'd be in immense trouble later, especially if I let slip the feelings of familiarity whenever Sedo was around.

The fact that my soul recognized Sedo's made me want him even more; but, it also put a desire in me to know why I would recognize him in such a way. Despite my reluctance to believe in his reality, I did believe I'd known him from another time—possibly another dream. Therein was my problem.

I knew the doctor was sent—by my parents—to make sure I wasn't relying on my dreams to guide my everyday life. If the results from each doctor visit came back favorable—in that, I wasn't overly obsessed with my dreams— my parents continued to fund my schooling; if not, they would cut the furthering of my education until I learned to "behave appropriately", as they put it. Even though graduation was a few months away, I had to be careful about what I revealed in my sessions, especially now that Sedo was a factor. Any mentioning of my former, or current, dreams was bound to be reported back to my parents and that was an argument I did not want to face.

"No," I shook my head.

"No...what?" Confusion marred Abby's features.

"There's obviously been a mistake." At least, I hoped there had been.

"Your face doesn't hint at it being a mistake. I think you know exactly who they're from. The question is, why don't you want me to know about him?"

I sighed. "You ask an awful lot of questions, Abigail."

"Well, you're my best friend and roommate! I want to know who's in your life!"

"He is not in my life." Just in a dream. One single dream; and, I'd be lying if I said I didn't hope for more.

"So, there is a 'he'?"

I took my keys out of my coat pocket and unlocked the apartment door. "Help me carry these in, will you?"

She eyed me with deep suspicion but carried in as many vases as she could hold. "Where to?" she asked.

"My room is fine," I said, leading the way.

I tapped the bedroom door with my foot, letting it swing open before I went in. Everything looked to be in place, though I sensed I was not the last person in the space. I spread the vases between my desk and dresser—yes, there were that many—before turning to my bed.

I gasped.

"What?" Abby wheezed and almost choked as she turned around.

Thankfully, I had snatched up and wrinkled the note I found sitting on my pillow before she realized anything was there. I knew someone had been in my room; and, I had a pretty decent idea of who it was. That didn't help my psyche at all.

"Riley?"

I shook my head. "I forgot to feed Mr. Bubbles," I lied, moving toward my fish tank. I dropped a few pellets in and watched the brightly colored betta devour each waiting morsel. "Little pig," I mumbled.

"Oh, good. That's all," Abby put a hand on her chest as she breathed a sigh of relief. See? Nervous case.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I think I'm gonna hop in the shower and then call it a night. Class in the morning. You know how I hate Mondays."

"Uh huh," she said, suspicion creeping back into her eyes.

I really was telling her the truth. I planned on taking a shower and getting to bed, but she thought I had a date to sneak out to; little did she know, my date was in the comfort of my own head.

Man, I need help.

My shower was thorough but quick. I brushed my teeth and ran a comb through my hair before jumping into bed. I tugged out the second note I hid under my pillow earlier and read it another time. It said:

Pleasant dreams, I hope.

~S~

I hoped so, too.

I had to get to the bottom of this thing. Were Sedo just a man in my dreams, the solution to this problem would have been simple: forget him; but, with the perfectly-timed delivery of these notes and flowers, I was unsure of my prior assessment of these events.

As much as I hated to admit it, the only plausible explanation to the happenings of this day was that Sedo was a real person. No one else knew about my nocturnal beau besides me, so the flowers and notes couldn't be a coincidence or joke. "How could they be?" I whined as I pushed myself out of the bed. I wrung my hands as I paced in front of my bed. "They have to be real—he has to be real— or none of this makes sense."

But what part of any of this makes sense?

Shifters, orange-gold eyes, a nonhuman character being able to show up in my dreams and reality...how could any of that be sensible? These series of events brought back a contemplation of the world around me that I'd long since pushed toward the back of my mind.

"There's no such thing as magic! Or-or vampires; werewolves, or Shifters! There are people and animals, that's it," I threw my hands out to my sides, slapping one of the crystal vases. Thankfully, the thing was sturdy enough not to be knocked completely over. My hand, though, was not as sturdy. "Ouch! Damn expensive vase!"

"Riley, are you okay?" Abby's voice came through my door.

I huffed. Was she waiting outside my door this entire time? I sighed, realizing that was probably the case. "I'm good. Just having trouble sleeping. And this stupid vase attacked me."

"The vase attacked you.... Are you sick?"

"Yeah," I lied. "I think I'm gonna take something."

I opened the door and was met with brown eyes filled concern—I would take that over suspicion any day. I went straight to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and took a healthy dose of NyQuil before bidding Abby goodnight. I snuggled back into my bed and turned on the television. In my haste to quicken my transition into sleep, I put on one of the movies I knew every line to. I didn't make it past the opening scene before I sensed his presence.

I breathed a sigh of relief as Sedo's silky voice found my ears. "NyQuil and The Mummy. You are a piece of work."

I wasted no time. "You sent the roses? A-and the notes?"

He circled me like a vulture would his prey, his eyes assessing. "Did you enjoy them?"

I squeezed my eyes closed, hoping I didn't hear what I thought I'd heard him say; but, I knew I had, so I answered, "Kinda."

His lips perked up. "Understandable."

"Look, Sedo...what aren't you telling me? How did you send that stuff if you're in my head?"

"I have my ways...can't really disclose that, yet."

I huffed. "What can you disclose?"

"I'm not even supposed to be here. It's somewhat against the Code."

"The Code? So you're a pirate now?"

"Shiver me timbers," he said with a wink.

I grabbed the hair at the crown of my head to hide my reaction to his wink. "You're so damn annoying."

"And you're crazy."

"I don't disagree. Why else would I look forward to disappearing into my own mind to spend time with a figment of my imagination?" I sat on a crimson couch, assessing my surroundings.

Unlike my last dream, Sedo and I were in an actual setting—an old, Victorian-style room. By the looks of the layout and furniture, we were in a parlor of sorts. The space was older, but with a few modern pieces that helped to build an eclectic blend.

"You still don't believe I'm real?" I detected humor in his voice, but I chose to ignore it.

"How can I? You could just be a part of my psyche that is made up to mask the fact that I'm on my way to a mental collapse."

His forehead creased in his confusion. "Mental collapse?"

I shook my head. "You didn't grow up in my household."

He shrugged before sitting next to me on the couch. "Well, I can assure you I'm real. You'll see in a short while."

"Why does it even matter if you're real? If you are, you'll just kill me, right? You are still leaning toward the 'kill Riley' side of this equation, aren't you?"

His eyes flashed that familiar, dull orange color. "Leaning toward? You think I have a choice in all this?"

"Isn't every happening in life based on decisions we make?"

He snorted. "Not where the animal side is concerned."

"Animal side?"

He sighed. "I shift into an animal. After February fourteenth, I could become all animal. It depends."

I swallowed. "On?"

"If that side of me decides to take over."