The Dreamstalker by Barbara Steiner

fight, while Alysia and the female she rides try to escape. But it is not the whales that the sharks seek. They want the lovely young queen who leads them, frolicking across the azure waters .
    They pummel the whale, causing her to leap and turn, trembling in fear. As she spins, she shakes her rider loose. Alysia tumbles into the ocean. She is immediately surrounded by the great white sharks, their glassy eyes all staring at her. A huge black shark with a razor-sharp smile seems to be their leader .
    The scene has been a monochrome of black and white and silver. An added hue stains the dark ocean palette. Scarlet ribbons float across the surface. Blood-red life fluid spills across the moonlit waters .
    Karen turned and tossed. She fought to wake up, to stop watching the picture before her. When she surfaced, she raised herself on her elbows and shook her head. She was short of breath and sweating. Her whole body felt wet and soggy, as if she had been swimming in her nightclothes.
    She drew in several pulls of air, filling her lungs, exhaling with audible sighs. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply again. She felt as if she’d been holding her breath forever. Her lungs ached and burned.
    Wide awake now, she remembered the dream. Alysia! She snapped on her bedside lamp and swiveled around toward the twin bed not four feet away from her.
    Alysia’s covers were tossed on the floor. She wore a jet-black cloak over her white nightgown. Her black hair swirled like strands of shadows on the cape. Across her chest was a bright splash of color—scarlet ribbons of color. Her wide blue eyes stared at the light. Her face was a mask of pure terror.

Chapter 12
    Karen finally realized the screams ripping the air and bouncing off the bedroom walls were hers. But she couldn’t stop. The overhead light blazed on as Alysia’s parents ran into the room.
    â€œKaren, what’s wrong? Oh—” Mrs. Holland collapsed beside Karen, automatically gathering her into her arms. She stared at Alysia as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.
    Mr. Holland dashed to Alysia, searched her throat for a pulse. He stared at Karen and his wife, who was now deadly quiet.
    â€œIs she—is she—” Karen couldn’t say the word.
    â€œShe’s dead.” Mr. Holland’s voice held a note of astonishment. Picking up Alysia’s phone, he dialed the emergency number, gave directions to the house, then collapsed, seated at the foot of Alysia’s bed. He touched the splash of red across Alysia’s chest. “It’s not blood, it’s paint. What happened here, Karen?”
    â€œI don’t know.” Karen found her voice. “I don’t know. I had a terrible dream. Alysia was—she—sharks—” She started to sob. Mrs. Holland held her closer.
    â€œDid you hear anything?”
    â€œNo, I was really sound asleep.” Because she was at the Hollands, and not alone, she had relaxed and gone to sleep easily and deeply. The idea that someone had come into the room while she slept was almost more frightening than the dream.
    â€œWhere did she get that coat?” Mrs. Holland was still sitting on Karen’s bed, staring at her daughter. “Did she go to bed with it on?”
    Karen answered again. “She—she just had her nightgown on. She said she was cold, though. Maybe she got up and put it on.”
    â€œThat’s not her coat. It’s more like a cloak.” Mrs. Holland, in a state of shock, was speaking in a perfectly normal voice, sitting there talking about the way Alysia was dressed.
    â€œThe police and the ambulance should be here any minute.” Mr. Holland came and pulled his wife to her feet. He circled her shoulders with his arm and led her from the room. “Get dressed, Karen. Come into the living room. Don’t touch anything.”
    Karen pulled her wool skating slacks on quickly. She kept on the pink sweatshirt top: Turning away from