Night Mares in the Hamptons Read Free Page A

reservations, all right, but I had bigger problems now.
    â€œMy mother would like to throw us an engagement party. I’d like you to pick out rings with me, too.”
    I chickened out on the ideal opportunity. “I can’t come right now. We have a problem here in the Harbor.”
    He didn’t say anything, but I heard the frustration in his silence. I quickly launched into an explanation about the horses, and the bad dreams, the mayhem and Susan’s expectations, without mentioning my link, however tenuous, to any fantastical white horses.
    â€œYes, we’ve been getting reports about them and their effect. Some of our research associates are quite excited.”
    â€œAnd you didn’t call me?”
    â€œI’ve been a tad busy here, darling. A few other, um, oddities have been spotted here and there. We’ve managed to convince the gremlins to find their way back, but the yeti appears too stupid to find the portal.”
    â€œCan you come help?”
    â€œSorry, Willy. I’m needed here. I’ve acquired a bit more of the Unity language, so I cannot be spared. Further, since I was involved in at least one of the events that permitted the, uh, aberrations to get through, I feel responsible to get them gone.”
    â€œBut what are we going to do here?” I hoped he didn’t hear the desperation in my voice. Or the disappointment. What kind of hero refuses to ride to the rescue?
    â€œYou needn’t do anything. Now that the horses are in Paumanok Harbor, with all its ambient power, they’ll be able to find their way back. Horses do that, you know, return to their barns whenever they can.”
    I didn’t know anything about horses. I was doing research online. Lord knew I wasn’t going near Mrs. Terwilliger at the library. “What about the nightmares?”
    â€œThey’ll end as soon as the horses are gone.”
    â€œHow the devil can you know?” I realized I snapped at him, which was better than whining, I guess, but he was so calm, when I was the one with no sleep and a guilty conscience. Besides, he was supposed to handle these Unexplained Events, not me. I never claimed to be a kick-ass heroine. I could hardly get my leg higher than a kneecap.
    He explained how the Institute’s archives had copies of every ancient reference to eldritch lore they could locate, from when magic and men lived in harmony. Some were in cuneiform, some hieroglyphs, petroglyphs, or cave paintings. They had scraps of every ancient or dead language, some translated by Grant’s own father, a master linguistics expert before he had to retire to be earl. One told a fable, as far as anyone could determine, of magnificent creatures that gleamed with moonlight and brought great happiness to the spirits of men.
    â€œThey are bringing mayhem. Chaos and violence and bitter anger.”
    â€œWe think the horses are mood projectors. The source of our word ‘nightmares.’ If they are troubled, as yours must be, lost and far from home and their herd, then they will project distress. People react badly to terror and the unknown.”
    Yeah, they ate ice cream and drank. “How come people can see them if they’re from another world? No one but me could see the troll. They saw trolleys and trains and troopers. By the ancient rules, you said.”
    â€œPeople see them because we have horses of our own. Our minds have to put labels on things. Horses are easy. They’ll be gone soon.” Grant sounded so certain, I started to relax, until he added that until then we should add more patrols to the police force and extra operators on the suicide hotlines.
    â€œSuicide?” God, I hadn’t thought of that. Not for me, of course, but for some poor soul who didn’t realize the frigging horses were causing such despair.
    â€œWe really need you here, Grant. You can talk to them.”
    â€œPeople contemplating suicide? That’s not my