Oleander House: Bay City Paranormal Investigations, Book 1

They met in the space between the barn and the washhouse. Bo came easily into his arms, moaning when Sam’s mouth covered his. Sam licked his lips, stroking himself faster as he imagined Bo’s tongue tangling with his. He could almost taste Bo’s hunger for him.
God, Sam , Bo breathed in his imagination. I want you so much. Make love to me.
Sam saw himself smiling, happiness brightening his gray eyes. He took Bo’s hand and led him into the shadow of the barn. They undressed each other, then lay together in the cool grass. Behind Sam’s closed eyelids, his hand wrapped around Bo’s erection, sliding up and down his shaft. Sam whimpered. He was almost there, almost, just a few more strokes…
A sudden sound from behind him brought Sam abruptly out of his fantasy. He leapt to his feet and whirled around, tucking his rapidly softening cock back into his jeans and zipping up as he moved. He stood with his back against the porch rail, staring through the sheer curtains into his room. The darkness inside seemed unnaturally thick. His heart thumped painfully against his ribs.
The sound didn’t come again. Several minutes passed before Sam dared to move. He edged toward the parlor door, went inside and hurried toward the stairs. He almost laughed. Hearing that horribly familiar sound might have frightened him, but at least it killed any lingering sexual thoughts. His mind was now utterly taken over by the memory of that deep, menacing voice—and he was positive that’s what it was— occurring for the second time in his room.
He tried not to notice its juxtaposition to what he’d been doing. If the things that had been happening were somehow tied to his thoughts, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Sam wandered downstairs with the vague idea of making a cup of warm milk to help him sleep. He smiled, remembering how his mother used to do that when he was a child and woke from one of his frequent nightmares.
Maybe they weren’t nightmares. Maybe the things you thought you saw were real after all.
Sam stopped in the middle of the foyer, thunderstruck by the thought. It had been decades since he’d believed in the reality of the creatures that had once haunted his nights. He’d gladly accepted his mother’s gentle insistence that they were nothing more than bad dreams. The idea that his five-year-old self may have been right was hugely unsettling.
The sounds of low voices broke into his thoughts. He frowned when he recognized Amy’s pleading tones, followed by Andre’s frustrated growl. They were clearly arguing over something. Sam reluctantly abandoned his plans and headed back to the staircase as quietly as he could.
He hadn’t gotten more than a few steps when Amy came storming through the archway that led from the foyer to the downstairs parlor. She stopped and blinked in surprise at Sam. He was startled to see that her eyes were red and swollen.
“Amy,” Sam said awkwardly. “What’s wrong?”
Her lips started to tremble. She pressed them tightly together, shook her head and ran up the stairs. Sam stared after her, uncertain whether or not he should follow and make sure she was all right.
“Sam. I thought I heard your voice.”
Sam turned. Andre stood in the archway, hands shoved into his shorts’ pockets, wide shoulders hunched. “Sorry,” Sam said. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I didn’t realize anyone was down here.”
Andre shrugged. “‘S okay. So what’re you doing up?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I thought I might make some warm milk. My mom swears by it to help you sleep,” Sam added in response to Andre’s questioning look.
Andre nodded, obviously only half-listening. “Yeah. I couldn’t sleep either. Amy woke up and followed me down here.” His gaze strayed to the stairs, a worried crease between his eyes.
“What did y’all fight about?” Sam asked. “You don’t have to tell me. But you can. I won’t say anything to anyone else.”
“I had another dream, right after we went to bed tonight. Worst one yet. I dreamed we couldn’t get out, just like Cecile did, and those things killed us all.” Andre pushed at the edge of the throw rug with one bare foot. “Amy wants us to leave. She’s scared that something’s gonna happen to me.”
Sam watched Andre’s face. “Are you going to?”
“I can’t. I understand that it might be dangerous, but I can’t leave. Not now. I feel like I’m so close to understanding what it all means.” Andre raised his head and met Sam’s