Before I Wake (16 page)

I didn’t like it.

I shot a sideways glance at Morpheus. He was sitting on the edge of his chair, watching the fight with an anxious expression. But it wasn’t for me, I realized. He was anxious for Verek.

Weird.

Something inside me was shifting, swelling. I could feel a pressure in my chest that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. How dare he threaten me! Heat rolled through me, sweet and strong. My eyes narrowed.

Verek blinked, icy gaze momentarily confused as he stared down at me. He noticed the change as well—and it surprised him. So much so that he loosened his hold on my throat just a fraction.

That’s when I punched him in the throat. It was with my wounded hand, so I didn’t hit quite as hard as I wanted, and it hurt like hell, but I connected with surprising force. His head snapped backward, and he let go of me. I was able to push him off me then and stagger to my feet, gasping for air, while he sat on the floor and did the same, his eyes watering.

My father stood and came to me. “Well done.” Then he leaned in and whispered for my ears alone, “I’m glad you didn’t seriously hurt him.”

“Yeah,” I replied, totally stupid. “Me too.” How in the name of Freddy Flintstone could I hurt a man like that?

“She has potential,” Verek announced as he rose. His voice was a little strained. “I would like to monitor her progress.”

“Of course,” Morpheus replied before I could, his smile tight. “Whatever the Guild requires.”

Oh great. Now I was going to be like one of those show dogs who performed on cue. Someone give me a blue-freaking-ribbon.

The Nightmare raked me with a gaze that was a mixture of disdain and interest, which is a bizarre combination when you think about it. “You could just marry her off, my lord Morpheus. You’d have no trouble finding her a mate. That would make your life much easier I think.”

“Marry me off?” I took a step forward. “Next time my knee’s going to hit a lot harder, Spartacus.”

My father made a sound that might have been a snort. “Thank you, Verek. I will keep that in mind.”

The Nightmare bowed to my father as I seethed, then he exited through the same door he’d entered.

“I’m not performing for that creep or anyone else,” I announced as I whirled to face Morpheus. “And I’m not getting married.

You can’t make me! And just what did he mean you’d have no trouble finding me a mate?” Overbearing, archaic ass.

“I’m not going to ‘make’ you do anything.” He was openly grinning now. And then there was a mirror in his hand, and he was passing it to me. “See for yourself what he means.”

I eyed both him and the mirror suspiciously for a moment. Did I think one of them might bite me? Not really, but I wasn’t so sure they wouldn’t either. Cautious, I wrapped my hand around the ivory handle of the mirror and lifted it to view my own reflection.

I literally gasped at what I saw. It was the woman from Noah’s painting. Obviously, it was me, but I looked different. I looked…glowing. That was the only way to describe it. In this world something strange happened to me. I wasn’t hulking, plus-sized, pale-faced Dawn Riley. I was still tall, but now I seemed statuesque even though I hadn’t shrunk at all. My curves were soft and supple. My skin was pearlescent, shining from within like all those highlighters at Sephora promised to make you look. I was still me, only better.

Immortal. Dreamkin royalty.

It was almost enough to make me want to stay there. Forever.

Almost.

I shoved the mirror back at my father. He simply looked at it, and it disappeared from my hand.

“It won’t work,” I insisted. “I don’t care what kind of tricks you play. I’m not staying, and I’m not marrying some Dream-jerk who thinks I’ll be a good wifey.”

“Tricks?” Someone’s pride had been pricked. “You accuse me of trickery?”

“That’s what you do.”

“Not to you I don’t. I can’t.”

Huh. That was news. “You can’t?”

“You are of this world. It will not deceive you like it deceives others.”

Interesting. “I’m still not staying.”

He shrugged. “I never thought you would. Not this easily.”

“I’m not. I have a life on earth. Sorta.”

“Ah yes. You have friends and the family you try to avoid.” Guilt leaped within me as I acknowledged the truth in his words.

“Then there is that lucid dreamer you told me about.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “He dreamed of you the other night. He knows what you are.” His gaze turned shrewd. “I wonder if he began to show interest in you before or after that realization.”

The implication left me cold. So did the fact that my father was spying on Noah. Now was not the time for him to play the protective dad.

“Before,” I gritted out from between clenched teeth, but I wasn’t sure. I wanted to be sure.

“He’s a very powerful dreamer, this Noah,” Morpheus remarked, a little too casually, shifting in his chair. “With the help of a Nightmare, he could become even more powerful.”

“And do what?” I demanded. “Nothing he could do in dreams would serve him in the real world.”

“This world is every bit as real as the one you live in, Dawn. Don’t ever forget that.” His voice was low, calm even, but I felt the rebuke all the same. “If you knew what your friend dreams of, you might not be so flippant.”

Another chill. “What do you mean?”

“I cannot say.”

“Don’t give me that.” I snorted. “You can do whatever you want.”

“And I don’t want to tell you about Noah’s dreams. Those are his own. I only want you to be careful.”

Another snort. Pretty soon I’d be rooting for truffles. “Yeah, right.”

He shrugged. I was getting really annoyed with this attitude of his. “Your choice,” he said, rising to his feet. “Let’s go for a walk.

You’ll have to leave soon and I think your time here is better spent remembering what you are and the things you are capable of.”

I stood, too. And then the two of us walked. I spent the rest of the night refamiliarizing myself with this world within the confines of my father’s castle. Another night he would take me out to meet others of our kind. Some of those would probably like me less than Verek had. I would do good to be prepared. I didn’t want to be ambushed by another Nightmare or something even more fearsome.

But I was going to need help from more people than just my father if I was going to learn how to protect myself in this world. I was going to need Antwoine. And I was going to need Noah. I didn’t want to admit it, but my father had planted the seed of doubt in my mind where Noah was concerned. And while I trusted Noah more than Morpheus at this point, it wouldn’t hurt me to be a little cautious.

It was all starting to come together like the makings of a very bad dream. And unfortunately for me, there was no waking up.

Friday came, predictable and anticipated as always. I woke up feeling funky, the visit with Morpheus still all too fresh in my mind.

I couldn’t brush it away like a normal dream because of the simple fact that when I woke up I had a bandage on my hand, covering a wound that while almost completely healed and faded, hadn’t been there when I had gone to bed.

Immortal I might be in the Dream Realm, but only to the degree that I would live forever if no one killed me. I could be hurt, and I could carry that hurt into this world. But that meant I had physically to enter The Dreaming. Had Noah been right when he supposed that was how I ended up in bed with him? Was my entire body being pulled into The Dreaming when I slept, or was I somehow moving myself between dimensions? God, it made my head spin. I knew portals were possible, but could I do that subconsciously?

Hopefully my uncle would have his little “pet” neutered soon and I—and Noah—wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. Of course, there was no bringing back the people it had already killed. God, if Karatos was responsible for those SUNDS deaths, there was no telling who else he had killed and made them look like natural deaths.

Was it any wonder I felt like curling up on the couch and losing my mind in front of the television instead of going to work? I was a Cancer. My first response to almost anything remotely threatening was to run and hide like the good little crab I was.

Hiding was not an option, though. I didn’t get paid to hide. So, I tossed on a bright pink chenille turtleneck sweater, paired it with matching lip gloss, and set out to face the day, where everything is supposed to look brighter.

Only it wasn’t brighter. It was raining. Cold and damp isn’t a look that New York wears well. Everything looks dark and gray.

The only bright spots were the bright yellow cabs chugging through traffic and the odd defiant umbrella that dared to be a color other than black.

On the train a lady with a cold sat next to me, blowing her nose so frequently I thought she must have blown most of her brain out as well. Her umbrella, dripping and slightly open, pressed against my leg, soaking the calf of my pants. Luckily, they were black, and the water wouldn’t show. Not so luckily, the boots I wore beneath only came halfway to my knee, so I had a huge, uncomfortable wet spot rubbing against my skin by the time my stop came.

The clinic wasn’t far, and I managed to trot up the street without getting much wetter than I already was under the flimsy protection of my umbrella. I pressed the buzzer for admittance since we didn’t open for another twenty minutes and the door was locked. The elevator doors were open in silent invitation, so I stepped inside and pressed the button for the second floor.

The lighting in the waiting area was soft and meant to be soothing to our clients, but on dark days like today, when soft could be mistaken for depressing, the extra overheads were switched on in an attempt to brighten the place up. I don’t know if it was an effective ward against depression, but it did make it easier to see.

“Morning, Bonnie,” I singsonged as I stepped inside.

The perfectly put-together receptionist stepped out of the filing room. “Hey there.” She slipped into her chair. “Nancy Leiberman left a message on the machine last night. She was wondering if you could squeeze her in today?”

That was fast. I figured the euphoria she’d exhibited during our last session would be short-lived, but not like this. Her next scheduled appointment wasn’t for at least a few days. But if Nancy was having nightmares again…

Coffee in one hand, I hung up my damp coat with the other. “Did she say what the problem was?”

Bonnie shrugged. “I wish. Then I could charge the rates you guys do.”

I arched a brow and tried not to smile. Bonnie grinned, and I felt one twist my own lips as well. “Wench.”

“She said something about a guy. That make sense to you?”

Yeah. It did. A crush totally explained Nancy’s manic behavior. She had gotten a boyfriend and thought all her problems would go away. I wondered if the boyfriend had gone away as well, leaving Nancy with her terrifying dreams once more.

“Would you call her back and tell her I can see her at twelve thirty?” I’d shorten my lunch.

Bonnie raised her hand in mock salute, but the smile she shot me was genuine. “You got it, kiddo.”

Yeah, I know. It was totally unprofessional, my relationship with Bonnie, and I didn’t give a flying frig. Did I realize that Bonnie was a substitute for my own mother? Please. Ten years of psychological study had made me nothing if not self-aware. But I was still human.

Or rather, half of me was.

I hadn’t even made it to the closet I called my office when Bonnie called my name. She told me that Noah was outside, asking to see me. Should she let him in? The usual teasing note was in her voice, but I knew that if I said no, Bonnie would tell him to go away. I also knew that I shouldn’t be so freaking happy to hear that Noah was here.

I had planned to call him later that day if I still hadn’t heard from him. I still didn’t want to seem overly eager, but obviously if he was at my work, he had something to share.

“Let him in.” I didn’t wait for her reaction before ducking into my office and checking my face in my compact. My mascara hadn’t smudged, and my lip gloss was still obnoxiously pink. I was good.

Noah came in, looking more like the guy I was used to than he had at the gallery the other night. His hair was a little messy and damp, his jaw unshaven, and his clothes thrift-store casual. He looked tired though, tired and a little angry.

“Hi, Noah.” It came out a little forced.

His dark gaze briefly met mine as he brushed by me to enter the room. “Hey.”

If I had been expecting to be swept into his arms and kissed brainless, I wasn’t going to get it. I guess I should have realized then that this wasn’t a social call. As soon as I closed the door, he turned to face me.

“I thought you said that thing was taken care of.”

Yeah, he was angry all right. At me. And I didn’t appreciate it. “I was told it would be.”

“It’s not.” He jammed his fingers through his hair, making it stand up even more. “It came after me last night.”

My defenses immediately fell. I was right to have been worried. “Are you all right?”

He moved away when I tried to touch him. Ouch. “Yeah. It wanted me to deliver a message. To you.”

Oh-oh. That’s why he was so mad. Can’t say that I blame him. I wouldn’t like being used as a Night Terror’s messenger either.

“What did It say?” My voice trembled just a little. The only thing worse than being the messenger was being the messenged.

“That It would be sending you a present.”

I frowned. “That’s it?”

His jaw ticked. “Sorry, but I didn’t press for details.”

I frowned at him. “How did he find you? Didn’t you take something to keep It away?”

His gaze turned defiant as well as a little sheepish. “I forgot.”

Arms folded over my chest, I bit the inside of my lip to keep from saying something smart-ass. It didn’t help much. “So you didn’t take my advice and Karatos found you, and that’s my fault, how?”

Black eyes bored into mine, so full of frustration and anger that I took a step backward. Noah hated not having control. Hated being used as a puppet. And right now the only place that frustration had to go was at me.