Origin of Angels: Elemental Legacy Book 1 (42 page)

He smiles, which makes me clench my jaw again. With a tight flick of his head, he motions toward the hallway. “You want to go?”

I jump to my feet, ignoring the sting of his hand sliding down my arm. I’ve seen weird. I’ve even seen freakish. But I’ve never seen something like him.

A weird sense of recognition wants to take hold of me, but I’m not going to let it. “Where’s the front door?”

His thick brows hit his hairline. “Even if I could tell you that, you have nowhere to go. Do you not wish to know why I brought you here?”

How can he not know how to get out of his own pad? “No.”

“No?”

I’m lying, but I’m scared. He knows too much about me. How? I don’t want to acknowledge the shiver that travels over my skin. I nod in his direction. “Exactly how long have you been stalking me?”

His eyes come alive, yet he gives me a casual shrug. “Quite some time, although stalking might not be the best description.”

I send him a disgusted frown. If I do figure out a way to ditch this place, will he find me again? “Well, you’re not exactly offering me a better explanation. Don’t you know how creepy this whole thing is?”

A slow smile covers his mouth. “Creepy isn’t the worst thing to be.”

His world must totally suck.

I smack my lips together before I lock eyes with him. “So
— are you ever going to tell me why you brought me here? I figure if you wanted to kill me I’d be dead.” I try not to let hope or fear show in my eyes. Who knows just what is going to set off this freak?

In the amount of time it takes me to process what he’s doing, he’s at my side. This sudden burst of speed sends panic to my veins, but his calm voice stills my pulse.

He leans over, his lips a breath from my ear. “I’ll tell you what,” he says. “If you can find a way out, I’ll let you go.”

My heart stutters then speeds like a racecar toward the finish line. There has to be a way out
— he came and got me for the love of bald eagles, and since he’s offering … “I’ll take that deal,” I say, sending him a cocky glance I’m not feeling at all.

He
smirks a challenge at me. “Go ahead.”

I open the door and glide into the hallway, puffing out my chest, getting my swagger on. Other than frying my arm, he hasn’t made a move to hurt me, so oddly enough I’m almost comfortable around him, like
it’s okay to be myself. It’s just a matter of time before I discover the hidden latch to my freedom. He doesn’t know how tenacious I am. He’s also right behind me, and I’m hyper aware of his every move. My skin tingles from his nearness. We’ve got something weird going on between us, but heck if I know what it is.

I’m tempted to check his face to see if I’m headed the right way, but I kee
p my back to him. Flickering tapers set into curly candelabras drape the space in a caramel glow. Although extremely cool, it’s not much light to go by, which, makes it twice as hard to see where this hallway leads. The super strange part is there are no other doors or even windows, just a dingy corridor that seems to stretch on forever. I stop to tug every sconce, thinking one will give under the pressure and unlock the door to my freedom. No such luck. I bristle at my captor’s dark laugh but keep going.

After a few minutes of getting nowhere, I sprint forward, running as fast as I can on the uneven surface. His feet thud against the stone behind me. While my lungs ache so badly I’m worried they might burst after only a few minutes, his breathing is even.

The hallway stretches forever in front of me like an endless highway to Nowheresville. One thing’s for certain: I’m getting nowhere, so I slam to a stop and bend over, sucking in wind.

This is the worst shape I’ve been in. I got kind of lazy when Justine took me in five years ago. At first, after she found me, I made life pretty difficult for her, thinking she was just going to ditch me too. Wouldn’t you know it, the minute I thought I’d have her forever is when she died. Being with her was the only time I’ve felt safe in my whole life. I should have known it wouldn’t last.

Psycho dude inches closer to me, and I snap up, turning to face him — the door is right behind us. It looks different from this side, as if it is ancient. The wood is splintered and pitted and the huge doorknob seems oddly out of place. There’s a slot big as a wallet, maybe for a skeleton key, but I’ve never seen a keyhole that big. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this is a different door entirely.

No way. There is no freaking way. I blink a couple times just to make sure my eyes are working right. When the effort yields the same result, I lower to my haunches to check the cobbled floor. If this thing’s a conveyor belt, I’m a red banana.

Something is wrong with this place, with this man. I swallow, fear trickling to my gut. With as much composure as I can muster I say, “You’d better start giving me explanations, buddy. Why am I here? What is this place? Who are you? I don’t even know your freaking name!”

Deep blue eyes flit toward the door. When he looks up again, he holds out his hand.

I shake my head. I’m not touching him on purpose. He’s not far from me. He could snatch me up like he did when he barged into my living room and grabbed me like I was some sort of errant livestock, but he doesn’t.

His voice is barely audible. “Come with me. If you’re ready now, I’ll explain everything.”

My heart pounds against my chest. This is it. All I have to do is stay calm and she won’t know; she won’t figure it out. If she opens the door first, she will have a choice to leave and, given her history, she will. There is no way I am letting her go now, no matter what the rules are. Even if she manages to see through
my bluff, I’ll figure something out to keep her with me. I motion for her to move ahead, but she refuses like I want her to.

For her to be tied to me, this has to be her decision—her mistake. I reach for the handle with controlled movements, hoping I don’t give anything away. A smile spreads on my lips when I face the door and block her access. The cool metal knob twists, and I push the door away. With practiced movements, I lead her into my shrine.

My whole body sighs once she is over the threshold. This girl might just have what it takes to break my curse. She is determined enough, bright enough, lovely enough, so why does the heaviness of fear still linger in my heart?

Like an unpracticed youth, I am not sure how to start the conversation. After a while she grunts, so I dive in. “You are of the blood.”

Her face pales, and I’m lost in her confused eyes. “Blood?” she asks before she visibly gulps.

Maybe not the best thing to start with.
I offer her a smile, yet she flinches. Am I that frightening? Dis-heartened, I drop my gaze and pace the room, attempting to make myself less obtrusive. “Long ago …”

Despite the wildness in her eyes, she chuckles before she speaks, and the sound startles me. I could stare at her for hours, days, years, but we have work to do. “In a galaxy far, far away,” she says, still smiling.

I like her smile. It brightens my mood as well as a full moon on a cloudless night. That aside, I still don’t know what she means. “To what are you referencing?”

Dark brows furrow, making me want to smooth the lines on her forehead. Her mouth opens on a quick breath as if she is going to tell me something important before her eyes harden.
“Nothing. Go on.”

“Have you ever heard of the Oneiroi?”

She tries out the word. “Oh-near-ee?” I nod. She considers this for a moment before she says, “Um, no.”

Explanations will be difficult. If there was one thing I used to be able to count on, it was the passing on of legend within a community. What has happened to her world? I take a deep breath and hold it, attempting to solidify a plan. Best to start with something she will understand. “Where do you think dreams come from?”

She sits on the couch, her movements waiflike. Confusion narrows her eyes as she takes in her surroundings. “Hey, how did you get another sofa so …” She makes a brief sweep of the room as if to be certain, and her gaze settles on Baltek. Her hand covers her mouth before she points at him. When she speaks, her voice cracks. “Oh my gosh, that dog looks just like the one you fried earlier.”

It takes all my will not to laugh. “I’ll get to that, but please, answer my question.”

Her head bobs in a decisive nod. “Subconscious, right?”

I smirk at her surety. “Not quite.”

She gives me a belligerent stare and cocks her head. “Next you’re gonna tell me they come from you.”

She is smart. “Actually, they do.”

She scoffs and stands up. “Right. So you think you’re the darkness and that you control dreams.”

Not wishing to confuse her further, I keep my answer simple. No doubt clarification will have to be ad-dressed later. “Yes.”

“Whose dreams?”

Not the response I expected. I am encouraged.
“Very good question. I have limited access these days, and I need your help.”

Her raucous laughter startles me, while her open body language entices me to join her on the sofa. With regret in my throat, I make myself stay where I am. “Good one. You want me to control people’s dreams?”

“No.”

“No? But I thought you just said
—”

This is the trouble with the young, they do not listen. “What I said was I need your help.”

More scoffs before she says, “You have a funny way of asking for help, buddy.”

She’s right. I may have gone overboard with the drama, but her nearness has befuddled me. “Are you willing to listen?”

Her eyes remain guarded. “Listen, sure, but I’m not committing to anything, just yet.”

“Very well,” I relent. “I will try to give you the shortest version I am able. I only ask that you not interrupt me. Agreed?”

She fidgets in her seat, flicking out a dainty hand as if she is swatting away a gnat. “Yeah, sure, get on with it already.”

Her impatience astounds me, but I continue as if it does not. One of these days, she will present her true self to me, not this mask of indifference she wields like a sword. “You come from a bloodline of gifted clairvoyants.
Sibylline, to be precise. Your mind is capable of reaching into the minds of others around you, which is especially useful to me.” I get a raise of the brows, yet she stays silent. I am further encouraged. “I should clarify one very important point for you. The Oneiroi do not control dreams, we send them. Once released, they are for the dreamer to control or reject.” When I take my usual chair opposite her, her eyes follow my movements. “There are legends about us, but legends have faded in your world. We used to be called upon for assistance when war or famine plagued the land; however, in recent years humans hardly pay attention to their dreams.”

In the cutest gesture I have ever seen, she holds up her hand.

“Yes?” I say.

“I think I’m following you here, but why does it matter if people don’t remember their dreams?”

For a moment, my thoughts distract me. Will she remember her dreams? When the time comes, will she remember me? More importantly, will she remember what she promised me?

For someone so young, she pays attention more than I’ve given her credit for. “Since your world was new and the
inhabitants simple, we focused on directing the leaders of nations. This is one form of divine guidance. At first, we only gifted good dreams, but as time went on it was clear warnings were also needed. You see, if left to their own conscience, most mortals will choose the easiest path. It takes a brave soul to stand up to tyranny or bigotry, yet it takes an equally brave soul to become a tyrant or a bigot. It was only later that we delved into the minds of everyday man.”

She raises her hand again. I smile. “But what does this have to do with me?”

The most important question of all. “I shall make this simple; however, if you have further questions, you may ask.” She nods. “There used to be many of us, now there are only four…including myself that have not converted to Erobos, or those that call themselves the dark ones.” She is right to shudder, but to my surprise, she does not interrupt me. “Essentially, my brothers and I accrue enough energy to leave the Dreamscape every so often.”

“How often?
And what’s a Dreamscape?”

“Every dreamer has his or her own dream world. The Dreamscape is where those worlds are housed. My realm is part of this network, but not exactly the same. Unlike other worlds, my realm has a protective barrier around it that is meant to shield us from the Erobos. What was once a great accomplishment for my people was turned into an impenetrable barrier that keeps me tethered to this
place. And as to when I am able to leave, it depends on how much energy I can save. Erobos interaction depletes my kind. My three brothers have a slightly different situation than I do, but we are all basically trapped in the Dreamscape.” She frowns but does not interrupt. “When we have accumulated enough energy, we are able to open a portal to the mortal realm. Our power does not last long, and there are dangers there for us. Suffice it to say, we do what we need to do and leave as quickly as possible. We seek humans with the ability to aid us, and I have chosen you.”

She tucks her legs under her and leans further into the cushions. A very good
sign, yet her pulse remains elevated and her complexion hasn’t recovered. “Why?”