Oleander House: Bay City Paranormal Investigations, Book 1

I’ll…” His gaze darted briefly to Sam’s mouth before looking deliberately away. He turned and left the room without another word.
Sam stayed where he was until he heard Bo’s bedroom door close. Forcing himself to move in spite of his shaking legs, he switched off the lamp then went to change the tape in the nursery camera.
Back in the haven of his room, Sam turned off the lights and went out to the balcony. He sat in the big rocking chair, leaning his elbows against the railing and gazing out over the moonlit front lawn. The night air felt cool on his burning skin. He stayed there for a long time, listening to the crickets and thinking about how quickly and completely things had changed.
    Sam’s brief hours of sleep that night were not restful. When he dragged himself down to breakfast the next morning, his eyes felt gritty and his brain sluggish. He was both thankful and disappointed to see Andre sitting alone at the dining-room table, hunched over a cup of coffee. Andre looked up and smiled grimly as Sam sat across from him.
    “I’m not the only one who didn’t sleep much, huh?”
“Nope.” Sam yawned. “Dreams again?”
“Shit, yeah. Worst dreams of my life. You?”
“Pretty bad. What were yours about?”
“I can’t remember all of them. But what I do remember is plenty.”
Sam leaned forward, his interest piqued by the hushed quality of Andre’s voice. “Tell me about it.”
“We were all here at Oleander House, just like we are now. There were a bunch of other people too, people I didn’t know. I remember there was a meeting or something, and I left the room and…” Andre stopped. His eyes took on a haunted look. “There were body parts everywhere. Blood all over the walls. And these…things. Fucking awful things, coming out of the air.”
“What sort of things?” Sam asked, though he was afraid he had an idea.
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like them before. They were…weird. I couldn’t seem to focus on them or something.” Andre laughed without humor. “Tell you what, I’m kind of glad I can’t remember what they looked like. I think it might not be good for my mind.”
Sam had no idea what to say. Andre’s dream felt uncomfortably familiar to him.
“What about you?” Andre took a sip of coffee. “What’d you dream?”
Heat. Sweat. Wet smack of naked skin against naked skin as he pounded into the man straddling his hips. Knees digging into his ribs, the faceless man riding his cock hard and fast. A hoarse cry, the splash of semen on his stomach. Reaching to touch his lover, dim light glinting off obsidian claws, and Christ, it was his hand…
Sam shook his head. “I don’t remember the details,” he lied. He nodded toward the kitchen by way of changing the subject. “Is Bo in there?”
“Naw. I found a note in the kitchen saying he’d gone out for a run.”
“You mean we don’t get a home-cooked breakfast? Damn.”
Andre gave him a tired smile. “Sorry. There’s yogurt, fruit and cereal. Eggs too, if you feel like cooking.”
“You don’t want me to cook, believe me.” Sam stood again and stretched. “I’m gonna get some coffee, you need a refill?”
“No thanks, I’m good.”
Sam shuffled into the kitchen. He was afraid he’d find Bo in there after all, but the room was empty. He poured himself a big mug of coffee and stood at the window sipping it. On the far side of the barn, just under the shadow of the pines, he saw a figure moving. After a moment, the figure emerged into the sunshine, jogging steadily toward the house. Sam’s heart did a funny little flip when he recognized Bo.
As Bo got closer, heading for the kitchen door, Sam turned away, unable to face the thought of being alone with Bo. Not yet. The back door opened just as Sam sat at the dining-room table with his coffee. Amy had arrived and was talking in low tones with Andre.
“Good morning, Amy,” Sam said. He could hear Bo in the kitchen, rummaging in the refrigerator.
“Good morning.” Amy’s voice sounded distinctly cool. “Did you sleep okay?”
Sam gave her a sharp look, wondering exactly what she knew, or suspected. He almost asked her. But before he could say anything, the door from the kitchen swung open and Bo came into the room, head thrown back and throat working as he drank from a plastic bottle of orange juice. Sam tried not to stare, but it wasn’t easy with Bo standing there in nothing but a pair of running shorts, bare chest gleaming with sweat,