The Key (Heartfire) Read Online Free PDF

beautiful boy. He'd opened his eyes. And smiled.
    It had been like a shock to the system. She hadn't been alone anymore. Somehow, just like that, they were together.
    And now he was real, and he wanted to kiss her. Did he want to date her? Sleep with her? She didn't know. But she had never felt more vulnerable and exposed in her life.
    For or the first time someone knew about her. Her darkest secret. Someone normal . Oh yeah. Dylan was as true blue American as they came.
    He should have been freaked out by the weird, dream-invading girl from the wrong side of the tracks.
    But he wasn't.
    In fact, he didn't seem to mind at all. He even seemed to like her, freakish nightime abilities and all. Of course, he didn't know the half of it. How far she travelled. How sometimes she seems to know things before they happened, even when she was awake. How her hands got hot when she touched someone who was ailing.
    Her Gran called it 'healing hands' and credited her vital health at 75 to her granddaughters touch. She'd even laid hands on a dying bird in her backyard once. It had chirped at her and flown away. Not far though. The damn bird came back to visit all the time for the next few years, reminding her of all the things that were wrong with her.
    Unnatural things.
    Dylan didn't know any of that.
    And he wasn't going to find out. Ever. Even if she did see him again, which she was very tempted to do. It was a terrible idea. A terrible, wonderful, seductively dangerous idea.
    She hadn't answered him about the date. Tomorrow she would see if there was another shift she could take. Somewhere else on campus other than the sports complex. Anywhere else. Then there would just be class to contend with. She could switch but- she sighed.
    Who was she kidding?
    She couldn't run from this.
    She couldn't run from him. And she wasn't even sure she wanted to. Her feet felt as heavy as lead when he was around. She wanted to be around him, more than anything she'd ever felt before.
    It was hopeless.
    He already knew where she lived. He knew her name. And she could tell that he wasn't going to give up, no matter how many times she deflected his advances.
    The scariest part was, she wasn't sure she wanted him to give up.
    Once she'd admitted that to herself she finally calmed down. She was thoughtful as she got ready for bed. She climbed in, bringing her sketchpad with her. It might seem odd to curl up with a pencil and a smudged up old pad of paper, but for once she didn't care what Charisse or anyone else thought.
    Kaylia relied on her sketches as a link to the dream world. She would often draw what she saw when she woke up early in the morning or the middle of the night. It was like a record of her second life, one she hoped would someday make sense of her gift.
    She had shoeboxes full of drawings at home. She'd just started this sketch pad over the summer but already it was halfway full. There were even several pictures of Dylan inside it. He was that prominent in her dreams.
    Kaylia opened the book and stared at the one she'd drawn just last week. She stared at the drawing, not remembering the dream at all. It took her a moment to figure out what was bothering her about the finely drawn sketch.
    When she realized what it was she gasped, dropping her pad as if it was on fire. The pages fluttered and she found herself staring, almost unable to look away.
    In it, Dylan's eyes were red.

Dylan
    ☿

    He dreamed about her that night. But this time it was different. This time he had a purpose, and as soon as he knew he was in the dream, he did something he'd never dared to do before.
    This time he went to her.
    Like the other dreams, he was lucid. He woke in his own bed, in the athlete housing complex. Before he knew it he was outside, walking through campus. But his steps were so broad that each one transversed fifteen feet or more. He felt strong, invincible even. He felt like he was somehow more than.
    Something bigger than himself. Stronger.