The Night Shifters (28 page)

Pretty cool
, she
agreed, and I felt her hand on my brow.
Sleep, sweetheart. You’ve earned
it.

I closed my
eyes.

* * * * *

I had figured
something out: my house was safe territory; it would have remained
so if I had never left it that first time. Nothing would have
happened to me, but that was precisely the problem – who
wants
nothing
to happen?
Granted, I would have been spared the episode of the Incredible
Shrinking Boobs and my near-death encounters with the Manna-Man and
the Girl-killer, but I would have missed all the good stuff,
too.

Once I was back in
my own bed, I could mull over my encounters with the Night Shifters
with some objectivity. And I felt rather pleased with myself.
Considering what heavy hitters I had been playing against, I hadn’t
done too badly. Those were my conclusions as I fell asleep. The
next thing I knew, my dream-self was walking out my front door and
into the City Of Night, never even pausing to worry that it might
not be safe out there even for dreamers.

I knew I was
asleep, but I didn’t believe I was wandering in my imagination or
my memory – the City was as real as ever. The big difference was
that I no longer seemed to be hindered by the laws of gravity, let
alone the laws of common sense. I could run lightly over the
streets in my bare feet, sail over roofs and treetops with one
leap, let my whims blow me to places I had been and places that
were new to me.

I had always been
an accomplished dreamer, but this was better than anything I had
ever dared to dream. I climbed the rooftop stairway to dizzying
heights, then stood in the lone tower at the top and gazed at the
Night panorama, delighted to be there this time around, hoping I
would never have to leave. No Edge appeared to tempt me back to the
World of Day. Instead, in the far distance, I glimpsed the Night
Tornado.

“
I love you!”
I cried, and blew a kiss at it. Then I leaped down from my tower
and walked along the wall that had separated my backyard from the
dangerous field. That fallow ground was no longer weed-choked and
full of garbage. It seemed miles wide – entire civilizations could
get lost in it. Surely pirates and bandits scoured its dunes and
gullies. It promised adventure and high drama – but I skirted it,
leaping from the end of the fence to the road at
75
^th
Avenue.

The Drivers prowled
up and down its length. They stiffened when I came closer, like
hounds scenting a hare – but their eyes passed over me without
pausing. I dodged between them, holding my laughter, because I
really wasn’t sure I could avoid them if they knew I was so close.
Yet I didn’t spare them a second glance as I ran along rows of
tract houses, passing Nostradamus’s home on the way, never fearing
that he might see me. When I passed Camilla’s tree, I resisted the
urge to pause and spy on its partying occupants. They sounded like
they were having a wonderful time, but they might be as sensitive
as the Drivers.

Other dwellers in
the Night moved about, but I slipped around them and never bothered
to see who they were. Some of them were dreamers from the World of
Day; they couldn’t sense me at all. I paused in front of Glendale
College and watched dreaming students fret from room to room, all
of them having that same old anxiety dream so familiar to
ex-students about forgetting to go to class.

“Stop worrying so
much!” I advised them, and moved on.

I skipped, and
danced, and leaped over houses like Superman. I wondered if it
would even be worthwhile to wake up again, if dreaming was this
fun.

Until I heard the
familiar roar of motorcycle engines and saw the Wild Hunt zoom
past. They were chasing a car, so I ran after them.

I could run like
the wind; I caught them easily. I leaped onto the back of a
motorcycle driven by a young man who might have been the blond
biker, the one I could never name. I should have bothered to find
out, but my eyes were glued to the action at the front of the pack.
The Masked Man pulled even with the back passenger’s window and
smashed it with his fist.

Hey!
I thought, with
some outrage,
just how many ladies are you going to rescue in one
Night?
But my jealousy was
for nothing, because a moment later I watched him pull
me
out of the broken window. King caught my ankle
before I could get clean away.

This was my own
past! If I could time-travel in my dreams, it might be very useful.
Maybe now I could see how the fight turned out.

They had a brief
tug of war over me, and I was embarrassed to see that I looked
every bit as silly as I had feared. Then the Masked Man handed me
over to Blackie, and my part of that story was effectively over.
Blackie dropped back with me, and the two of us went off to play
our unhappy scene to its conclusion.

But
the
dreaming
me didn’t
have to go; I stayed with my unknown biker and watched King leap
onto the top of his limo, where the Masked Man met him with a
flashing sword. Sparks flew each time their blades met, and I
forgot to worry that either of them might get hurt. No Kung Fu
sword extravaganza could have been better choreographed than their
battle on top of that speeding car – a battle for me! It was
so
cool
! They were as lean and
graceful as a couple of Olympic athletes.

In fact, they were
so evenly matched, after a while they lowered their swords and just
glared at each other. The car and the motorcycles slowed down,
finally stopped in the middle of the road. Finally King said,
“She’s gone. Apparently she’s more of a Wild Card than she
seemed.”

“I wouldn’t be
here, otherwise,” said the Masked Man.

They stared
so hard at each other, it made me nervous to watch them.
Lord
they were cool. “We’re evenly matched,
Godling,” said King. “She could tip the balance.”

“Maybe she won’t
want to,” said the Masked Man.

King laughed. It
was a scary sound. But now that I knew him a little better, I sort
of understood it. I bet he laughed the same way when he came home
and found that I had escaped his vine trap. “Which one of us will
find her first?” he wondered. Then he turned his back and jumped
through the sun roof as it opened at his feet. The Masked Man
jumped back to his own motorcycle.

I thought they
would all execute daredevil turns and rush back to where Blackie
had dumped me. Instead, they zoomed off in the same direction they
were already going, until the road split, and King took the left
fork. The Wild Hunt took the right, with the Masked Man in the
lead.

This hurt my
feelings. Didn’t any of them want to know what had happened to me?
Granted, they hadn’t run into me the first time around; I ended up
in Camilla’s tree. But it would have been nice to know someone gave
a hoot.

But then I saw a
tree up ahead, and its limbs glowed with faerie lights. Camilla’s
tree! Or a close cousin. Maybe they didn’t have to pick a direction
that made sense in the waking world, maybe they just had to think
about where they had to go to get there.

I wished I could do
that. Oh well – at least I could tag along when they did it.

The Wild Hunt
pulled over to the side of the road. Everyone got off his
motorcycle, and I scampered silently behind them. They formed a
semicircle around the Masked Man as he picked up something that was
lying in the road. I tip-toed behind him and peeked at what he was
holding.

Two sides of
a pink envelope. He stuck them back together, and I could see
letters in the starlight:
Hazel
.

The Masked Man
slipped the torn letter out and placed the two halves together so
he could read them. I couldn’t make out the writing – which one was
it? The one that advised me to walk down the road to Nowhere? The
one that said I was unwanted and should go knock on the first door
I could find and beg for help?

He read for
so long, I wondered if it was a brand new letter, one I hadn’t seen
yet. I probably should have been more curious, but I had been
burned by those letters too many times – I didn’t want to know what
she had to say anymore. I glanced over my shoulder at Camilla’s
tree. It glowed more brightly than ever, the party was still going
on. One and Two must be sitting up there. Were they still mad at
me? I slipped away from the Wild Hunt and started over to the tree,
just to have a peek. But halfway there, I stepped on a dry twig,
and its
snap
sounded as loud
as a gunshot. I glanced back at the road.

The Hunters were
looking at me as if they could see me. Especially the Masked Man.
He dropped the torn letter and took a cautious step in my
direction.

“Dreamer,” he said,
“come out of the darkness.”

I stepped into the
moonlight. When he looked at me, I felt his regard like the touch
of a hand.

“I don’t know what
that rotten letter says – but don’t give up on me,” I pleaded.

His eyes pinned me.
“Who are you?”

“I’m Hazel, not
Serena! I’m not trying to kill anyone or banish anyone. I don’t
care about politics.”

“
Then
what
do
you care about?” he
demanded.

If any other man
had asked me that, I would have hemmed and hawed. But not with this
man. “Love.”

He didn’t laugh.
That was encouraging. “Why did you seek me out?”

“I wanted to see
the fight,” I confessed. “When it happened the first time – I mean,
when I was awake – I’ve sort of traveled back in time now that I’m
asleep – anyway, Blackie dumped me by the side of the road and I
didn’t get to see you and the Car King dueling. I kind of felt
cheated.”

“It’s rare for two
Night Shifters to combat each other so violently,” he said. “I hope
you enjoyed watching us.”

“I did. Thank you,
Masked Man.”

“You’re welcome –
Hazel. And now what will you do?”

“The me who’s awake
has a lot of stumbling to do and goofs to make,” I admitted. “The
sleeping me is probably going to wake up and do some more stumbling
and goofing. But I think I’ve sort of made some progress. I’ve got
my own house, now. And maybe – “

“ – Maybe?” he
prompted, like he really cared.

I took a deep
breath to tell him I loved him and I hoped I would see him
again.

But when I blinked,
he wasn’t there anymore.

Or rather, I wasn’t
there. I opened my eyes and found my own room.

•

“Rats,” I said.

But maybe it
was for the best. It was kind of nerdy to blurt something like that
to a guy, especially in front of his friends. Disappearing when I
still looked mysterious was probably way better. And maybe that was
why he had asked to see me when he did. I sure couldn’t complain
about the way
that
had turned
out.

My wrist had
stopped hurting even before I fell asleep, so now I felt
bright-eyed and bushy-tailed again. But I really hoped my kitchen
had something better to offer than goldfish and cheese. Though I
would take what I could get.

I located my very
own toilet, in a discreet little water closet; then went into the
main bathroom and had a nice warm bath. The Celestial Lover smiled
shyly at me from her corner, her hands offering an eternal splash
of silver water. I gazed at her as I scrubbed and soaked, feeling
very feminine. And very clean.

When I walked back
into my bedroom, drying my hair with a warm towel, I expected to
shop through my new wardrobe for something spiffy to put on. But my
black catsuit was draped across a chair as if someone had laid it
out for me. It smelled freshly laundered, and it didn’t have a
speck of dust on it. So I put it on again. What the heck – if I met
the Masked Man again, he would like seeing it on me.

The kitchen
downstairs was very much like my old kitchen, except there were
fresh scones and coffee waiting for me. I sat at my little table,
trying not to get crumbs down my cleavage, and wondered what I
should do this time. Night still reigned outside, that was no
surprise. And the storm rumbled out there too – it sounded like it
was starting to build up steam again. I peered out the window, but
I couldn’t see the hole. Too many clouds were in the way.

When I turned back
to the table I saw a pink letter sitting against the moo creamer.
It was torn in two. I knew, without the slightest doubt, it was the
same one the Masked Man had been reading.

What did she say
this time? Did she put me down? Did he read a bunch of stuff that
made me look bad?

I struggled with my
curiosity, worse than I ever had before. I was too smart to fall
for Serena’s bull anymore, right? I could read anything she wrote
and see right through it this time. Sure!

I snatched up those
two halves, opened the window, and threw them out. “I’m never
reading one of your letters again, Serena. Forget it.”

Lights twinkled in
the Night beyond the window. I wondered if the stars had emerged
from behind the clouds. But when I peeked out the window again, I
realized the source of light was closer, in my own backyard. My own
Faerie Tree stood out there, and the lights were in its
branches.

I opened the back
door and paused on the threshold. I could hear voices in the tree
now. They were male voices, but I didn’t hear One and Two.
Tip-toeing outside, I peered up the trunk.