After Dusk

Prologue

A cool night breeze filters through the window, stirring the wisps of hair that came loose from the tie used to hold them back after a night of tossing and turning. The gentle caress is enough to rouse me from my dreamless sleep. I scrunch up my nose and run a lazy hand over my face, trying to sooth the irritating tickle before it completely ruins my sleep.

The wind whistles as it blows through my open window once more, sounding almost as if it were breathing my name. A rueful smile finds its way onto my face. Only I would think the wind was talking to me. With a heaving sigh, I untangle myself from the blankets and pad across the night-chilled room to the gaping window. A mighty gust blows my dark hair back, knocking most of it out of its loose tie. Leaning into the wind, I wrap my fingers around the edge of the window and yank it shut. The room seems to warm a couple degrees as I throw the latch into place.

Spinning around, I begin to shuffle back to the warm embrace of my bed when a light breeze brushes past my ear, stirring my hair once more.

"Laila," the breeze seems to croon.

I whirl around, thinking that I must have left the window cracked by accident, but find the window sealed up tight. I frown and then let out a small, forced laugh.

"It's just the wind, Laila," I mutter under my breath, trying –and failing- to reassure myself. I consider slipping back into bed, but decide against it when another brush of wind against my skin has the hair on the back of my neck raising. Instead, I click on a lamp and sink down onto my desk chair.

On the desk rests the novel I'd started yesterday, something about an assassin and other general baddassery. I flip to the page I'd bookmarked the day before and begin to read. I don't get further than a couple of pages before that irritating breeze stirs my knotted hair once more.

"Laila," that impossible wind whispers. "Laila."

I stand up from the desk so fast the chair topples over behind me. I must be losing my mind, I think to myself, heart racing. There's no way this is happening. I look around the room with wide eyes in time to see the shadows darkening every corner begin to grow, crawling up the walls like taloned fingers. The longer I look the more the shadowy fingers seem to crook at me, bidding me to come closer.

"Who's there?" The words tumble clumsily out of my mouth. I wet my trembling lips, telling myself that there is nothing to be afraid of. My sleep deprived brain must be messing with me, making me see and hear things that aren't really there.

The shadows creep closer, looming over me. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, almost loud enough to drown out the next creeping whisper of my name that shudders across my eardrums. Opening my mouth to let out a frightened squeak, I leap backwards. Unfortunately for me, my foot lands on one of my sister's discarded dolls and I lose my balance. I fall quick and hard and just before my head hits the cold, unforgiving floor a thought drifts through my consciousness: I told Dawn not to play in my room.

**************************************************

When I open my eyes once more, I find myself on the floor of my room. Only, it's not quite my room anymore. There's a stillness to it now, a stillness that prevails despite the shadows that dance on the walls and the shimmering stars that have replaced my ceiling.

My breath catches in my throat as I stare in wonder at the sight before me. This must be a dream, I tell myself, though I've never dreamed up something so beautiful, so otherworldly before.