Before I Wake (7 page)

Noah went very still, regarding me with something that looked like a mixture of relief and disbelief. “You do.”

I was saved from answering by the arrival of our main course. I wasn’t terribly hungry at the moment given the sudden lurch my stomach had taken earlier, but I wasn’t about to waste good food.

Somehow I managed to speak as I dished out basmati rice for both of us. “Yes. Or, it could be anxiety over something or someone you would like to avoid but can’t. Or, it could be a grudge you can’t let go of. It might even be your unconscious telling you that you’re working too hard.”

He watched me carefully, as though seeing me for the first time. “But you don’t think I’m crazy.”

“No. I don’t.”

Something in my dream had raped me. Maybe something in Noah’s dream really tried to kill him. Logically, it went against everything school and society believed, but so did the fact that no one could wake my mother from what was basically a very long nap. I knew there was more to dreams than Jung, Freud, and every other therapist who ever lived. I was living proof of it, but I didn’t know dick about anything thing further than just that.

Just enough to be dangerous. So before I panicked and went looking for answers in another world, I was going to do everything I could in this world.

“If you like, you can stay at the clinic tonight. If you dream of this man again, I can at least take a look at the effect the event has on your physiology.” And I’d be there when he woke up, and the dream was still fresh. Details would be clearer then. If his description of the man matched the one from my dream—or any Dreamkin—then I’d know for sure what we were up against.

He looked surprised—or pleased, sometimes it was hard to tell the difference. “You’d do that?”

I nodded. “Buy me dessert and I’ll even tuck you in.” Flirting. I was flirting with a patient.

Noah smiled slowly, and I was very tempted to lean across all this food and kiss him like he deserved. “I’d like that.”

I took a drink of water. I needed some serious cooling down. “Uh, you didn’t have any plans for tonight, did you?”

“I did,” he replied, “but I canceled. She’ll forgive me.”

“Oh.” I felt a little bit like I did when I found out that Chris Cornell from Soundgarden was getting married back in the nineties. I knew there was no chance of ever having him for myself, but marriage made that realization so much more final.

I managed a smile. “Tell her sorry from me as well.”

He was watching me with a mixture of amusement and hot intensity that surprised me. I’m not the brightest when it comes to men, but I knew at that moment that if I made an offer, Noah would have taken it. “I’m sure my mother will appreciate that.”

I almost giggled—how prepubescent is that?

“I could be eating pot roast right now.” He dipped naan in the masala sauce on his plate. “Don’t tell my mom, but this is better.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” I picked up my fork. Suddenly, I was very hungry. “I’m technically done with work when the night shift comes on, but if you come back to the clinic later, I’ll hook you up.”

“Gee, Doc”—his voice felt like warm chocolate flowing over me—“from anyone else I’d take that as a proposition.”

I know I blushed because my face was hotter than the chicken vindaloo on my plate. Somehow I managed a chuckle. “Don’t tease me, Clarke. I can get you while you’re asleep.”

He dipped a chunk of naan into the buttered chicken on my plate as one of his dark brows arched almost coyly. Somehow the man made even food sexy. “I think I’d rather be awake for that.”

I must have turned beet red because he actually laughed.

“I’m sorry,” he said after. “I hope I didn’t offend you.”

Offend me? Was he nuts? “I’m made of hardier stock than that,” I told him with a smile. “So, you’ll be by the clinic later?” Maybe I was being overly paranoid, but best-case scenario Noah would feel safe with me around and get a good night’s sleep. Hopefully worse case would be him having a nightmare, and I’d be there to talk about it when he woke. I just didn’t feel right sending him off alone knowing what I knew.

He nodded. “It’s a date.”

A date, and he was going to sleep through it. Huh, wasn’t that just my luck.

“Are you going to get into trouble for this?”

I shook my head as I led Noah into the green sleep room. It was shortly after midnight, and other than another patient—a patient who was someone else’s responsibility, not mine—already asleep in a room down the hall, there was only me, Noah, and a small night staff in the clinic. The building provided security, and Joe, the night guard, would no doubt stop by later with coffee and donuts.

Donuts, which I would not eat. I had to make myself promise that now.

“It’s not like I canceled another appointment to hook you up. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you’re helping me with an experiment.”

“An experiment?” Noah cocked a dark brow as he tossed his coat over the stiff, pinched little chair in the corner. “Sounds nefarious.”

I smiled. I was beginning to sort out when he was joking. “You’ve discovered my dark side. I’ll make something up. I wouldn’t want you to get billed for something that was my idea.”

He stiffened—just like in the movies when someone’s been offended. “I can afford your rates, Doc.” His voice actually dropped—in tone and temperature.

“I never said you couldn’t.” Actually I kinda had, I suppose. Deliver me from the fragile male ego. “You want me to bill you?”

He nodded—a quick, decisive jerk of his head. “Yes.”

Since this was now a professional situation, it would have been wrong of me to roll my eyes, no matter how badly I wanted to.

“Fine. I’ll have Bonnie do the paperwork tomorrow. Now, can we get on with this?”

“Doc.” His brows came together in a manner that was both mocking and endearing. “Do you treat all your dates this way?”

“Billing them? No. Besides, I don’t date.” Stupid, stupid mouth!

Anyone else would have looked uncomfortable, or maybe apologized, but not Noah. He looked curious—interested. The base of my spine tingled.

“Why not?” he asked, unzipping the bag he’d brought.

I might as well be honest, as painful as it was. It’s not like I’d be able to tell from his expression if he pitied me or not. “The men I meet don’t seem to find me attractive.”

“Huh.” He tossed a pair of Spider Man sleep pants over his shoulder, tilted his head and watched me with those fathomless eyes.

“That’s weird.”

I arched a brow. “Weird?”

“That you actually believe that.”

I opened my mouth at the same time he opened the door to the adjoining bathroom. He closed it behind him, leaving me alone to feel somewhat silly and bewildered.

Noah returned a few minutes later wearing only the sleep pants, and I tried not to think about the fact that I was alone in what was essentially a bedroom with one of the sexiest men I knew, and he was half-naked. Even the possibility of dream-killers couldn’t dull that realization. It was no different than any other time Noah had done an all-nighter, but somehow, since we’d had dinner together and exchanged flirtatious remarks, it seemed strange and tense.

Once he was under the blankets, I focused on my job. It wasn’t that difficult—I’m not a total flake. I got the equipment ready and in position and placed the electrodes on Noah’s head and chest.

“I’m sorry if they’re cold.” It was what I said to him every time I hooked him up.

When he didn’t respond, I looked down to see him staring at me. “Noah?”

“I thought of the colors,” he replied, watching me closely. “For your hair.”

Had he been thinking of that the entire evening? I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but you know I had to ask. “And they are?”

“Sable with burnt umber for the highlights and maybe a little titian.”

I smiled. “You should work for Clairol. Good night, Noah.”

“Night, Doc.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Thanks—for everything.”

I nodded and beat a hasty retreat. If I stayed much longer with him talking about my hair and sounding all thankful, I was likely to climb in bed with him. Never mind that it might cost me my pride, it could cost me my career.

And not even a Jensen Ackles, Johnny Depp, and Josh Hartnett sandwich was worth that.

After leaving Noah, I went to the control room where I could watch him sleep and monitor the information detected by the equipment.

I sat down with a coffee. Danny, the night intern brought in a donut from Joe. It was homemade and had been warmed in the microwave in the lounge. My diet didn’t stand a chance. I inhaled it, then licked the remnants from my fingers. Danny didn’t ask about Noah and I didn’t volunteer.

The sugar and caffeine gave me a nice little buzz, but an hour later my eyelids were drooping. The lack of sleep and low blood-sugar levels were catching up with me.

Noah hadn’t shown any kind of unusual activity, so I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes—just for a minute, of course. I am a professional, after all.

The sound of someone crying out in pain brought me to my feet with a startled grunt.

Startled doesn’t begin to describe the rest of it. I looked around at my surroundings, shaking my head as I did so.

“What the…?” My control room was gone. I was in a house—a house that was as alien as it was strangely familiar. The room was large, with a mishmash of furniture—most of which looked comfortable, but hardly used. The whole place was a riot of color with vaulted ceilings and huge, fantastic paintings covering the walls. I didn’t know where I was, but I felt safe there. And I wanted to explore.

I had to be dreaming, but I’d never been so lost in a dream before—except maybe for the one I’d had last night. I didn’t know this place at all, and I always knew my dreams.

I moved forward, around a rich, wine-colored sofa. I hadn’t made it very far when I saw him.

“Noah?”

He was on the floor in the Spider-Man pants, struggling to lift his upper body. His arms visibly shook with the effort, the muscles straining beneath his golden skin. His chest and ribs—even his back—were bruised.

I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands instinctively positioned on his trunk to help him stand. His skin was clammy beneath my palms.

“Noah, are you okay?”

“Dawn?” He’d never called me by name before. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly, but I was willing to bet that neither of us was awake, at least not in the traditional sense.

“Put your arm around me.”

For once I was glad of my size. I could help Noah to his feet without hurting myself.

“Hello, Little Light.”

I knew that voice. A man walked toward me. I watched, my hands still placed protectively around Noah, as he came forward. I knew he was who hurt Noah and had been stalking his dreams.

And then I saw his face. It was the same bastard who had raped me.

“Who are you?” I demanded, indignation and anger overshadowing everything else. “Where are we?”

The man looked around. “We are in a place of his making.” He pointed at Noah. “Ask him where you are.”

“My dream,” Noah replied, shooting me a frown. “How can you be in my dream?”

I ignored the question. “What did you do to him?”

The Dreamkin shrugged. “I might have broken him. I’m glad I didn’t. I have use for him.”

My heart raced, but I tried to ignore my rising panic. Noah was going to be okay. I didn’t care what I had to do, or what happened, but Noah was going to be all right.

The dream thing kept talking, “Your name means ‘awakening.’ Did you know that? You were named for your aunt Eos, I suppose.”

I frowned. His voice gave me the wiggins. “Who are—”

Suddenly, he was standing right in front of me. He grinned. “Told you I was coming. Or did you think I meant that sexually?”

“You know him?” Noah demanded, his arm cradling his bruised ribs. “What the fuck is going on?”

I had to get out of here, had to escape. I had to do something. Had to…

“If you wake up, you’ll leave poor little Noah alone with me,” the Dreamkin said, reading my expression. “You don’t want to leave him, do you? Not with me. If he’s not broken now, he might be by the time I’m done.”

His voice alone was enough to make my skin crawl, even as it pulled me in. How could I be repulsed and drawn at the same time? A cold, dry finger touched my cheek, slid down to my mouth. He shoved his finger between my lips, into my mouth. I bit down hard, and succeeded in doing nothing but smashing my teeth together.

The man laughed. He still looked like a romantic hero, but an even-more-twisted version than in my first dream.

Noah pushed me behind him. He wavered on his feet, but he stood alone as he faced the thing. “Stay away from her.”

The Dreamkin laughed. “Little man, you should be hiding behind her.”

Noah didn’t look at me, but I saw the expression on his face—more anger than surprise. “Go to hell.”

More laughter. “How cute.”

The dream thing said if I woke up, I’d be leaving Noah behind. How was that possible if it was my dream?

Because it wasn’t my dream. The realization came like a cold wind. I was in Noah’s dream, and I had no power there. Did I?

How was this possible? And how had this thing managed to get inside my dreams? I had my own space. No one could get past the walls I’d built. Could they? Or had those walls started to crumble like all walls eventually did?

“You don’t know how to control this place.” The Dreamkin’s smile was as cold as frozen tar, holding me in place. “You’ve so much power inside you and no idea how to use it.”

“What do you mean?” As scared as I was—and I was scared—I wanted to keep him—it—talking. If he was talking, then I could think of a way out of this, for Noah as well as myself.

“Your mother should have told you.”

“My mother?” What the hell did my mother have to do with any of this?

Long hands steepled in front of that disgustingly beautiful face. “I bet you were her favorite, weren’t you? I imagine you were, being his daughter.”

It knew who I was. It knew what I was.

It laughed. “You have so much of him in you, and you don’t know anything.”