Dark Side of Dawn: The Nightmare Chronicles (11 page)

This was what I had been dreading. There was no getting out of it, however. I might be a coward when it came to discussing this with Noah, but I wasn’t going to become a liar.

“I tracked him through the Dreaming,” I replied, working up the courage to tell the whole story.

Noah released me, stepping back to look at me with an expression I didn’t like. He looked surprised, hurt, and wary. “I thought you could only do that to people you’ve met.”

He really paid attention when I told him these things. He was right. Unless the person was a Dreamkin, I had to physically come face-to-face with them in order to pick up on their dream selves.

“He was at the craft show,” I whispered, unable to bring my voice up to its normal volume. “He’s a doll maker.”

If Noah had flown off the handle I think I could have handled it. Instead, he looked at me with disappointment, and maybe just a little disgust. I really hoped the latter was a figment of my guilty conscience.

“How did you know it was him?” No recriminations, just a simple question.

“I recognized him from her dream. I saw his face. He had a doll that looked just like Amanda. I think he used her hair on it.”

“I see.” He turned away from me then, taking a couple of steps away to brace a hand against the wall. He kept his back to me, rigid and still. Was he angry at the rapist, or at me? Or both?

I opened my mouth to say something—anything that might make him understand why I did what I did.

Noah spoke first, “He told Amanda she’d make a beautiful doll.”

“What?” Now it was my turn to feel broadsided. It wasn’t a good feeling. “When?”

He turned, face so blank it scared me a little. “When he raped her. Didn’t you hear him say it in her dream?”

I shook my head. “Dreams aren’t always exact replays…”

He didn’t let me continue, cutting me off with sharp precision, “And if you had told me he was there, I could have seen the doll for myself and called the police.”

That was true. So was this: “If you had told me he’d said that to her, I would have told you I saw him.”

Muscular arms folded across his chest. Classic defensive posture. “You should have told me regardless.”

“Probably.” I folded my arms across my chest as well. This was headed in a great direction, wasn’t it?

“But you didn’t.”

“No, because at the time I was freaked out and you were holding a huge sword that you might have been tempted to use.”

He looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or scowl. He did a little of both. “You think I’m some kind of idiot?”

I frowned too. “Of course not, but I would have loved to kill the bastard and I don’t have the connection to Amanda that you do.”

His eyes widened. “Kill him? Sweet Jesus, Doc. Am I that much of a monster?”

For a second, the therapist in me raised its head and started to analyze his choice of words. I batted her aside and concentrated on the argument. How like me to try and distance myself emotionally by becoming Dr. Dawn. “You’re not a monster. Trust me. I’ve been in his head. I know who the monster is.”

“Once again, you risk your own safety because of me.” His arms uncrossed and he raked a hand through his thick hair, mussing the inky strands.

I guess he was referring to all that Karatos crap. “I did it because I thought it was the best way to handle it.”

Dark eyes locked with mine. It was difficult to hold that gaze, mostly because I didn’t really like the reflection I saw there. “The best way being not to tell me.”

“The best way being taking care of it myself.” I sighed. “That didn’t come out right.”

He shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “Don’t bother. I get it.”

I moved toward him, putting my hand on his arm. He didn’t shrug it off, so I took that as a good sign. “Noah, I didn’t take any risks. No one got hurt, and we didn’t have to deal with police questions. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

He watched me for a second, and this time it was easier holding his gaze. I let him see the sincerity in my own. I hoped how much I thought of him—how much I never meant to upset him—was obvious.

He sighed. “Look, I think I’ve been pretty fucking understanding and patient given the extraordinary circumstances surrounding our relationship, but if you can’t be straight with me, what’s the point?”

My heart flipped. That sounded like break-up talk to me. “I am straight with you.”

He snorted. “When you think I won’t go psycho.”

“I didn’t think you’d go psycho.”

Pinned again by a gaze that held me tighter than two-sizes-too-small Spanx. “But you were afraid.”

Boy, he just wouldn’t let go. I guess I deserved it. I hadn’t thought that he’d see it this way. All I’d thought was of him losing it. Of course he’d take that as an insult, when he liked to think of himself of controlled. “I was. Yeah.” How could he be surprised? He was the one who said he’d like to have five minutes alone with Durdan.

I saw some of that control now, in the stiffness of his
posture, the careful movements as he stepped back, away from me. “I don’t want a girlfriend who’s afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you. I just didn’t want you to do something stupid.”

“Because doing stupid stuff is your job.” There wasn’t any heat in his voice, no anger, but I felt as though there was. His eyes were bright—glittering even—and I knew we were headed for a fight of epic proportions. He was hurt and I wasn’t handling this well at all.

“I’m going to go to work,” I said softly, “Before this turns ugly. Will ten hours be enough for you to figure out whether or not you can forgive me?”

“It’s not about forgiving you,” he replied likewise. “It’s about whether or not you want to be with me. Do you think you can figure that out in ten hours?”

Before I could say anything, Noah took his coffee cup, turned on his heel, and walked away, toward his bedroom. “Have a good day at work.”

Right
, I thought, gathering up my things and stomping toward the door like a chastised school kid. Like
that
was going to happen.

I went to work feeling a little bit like a kicked dog. I totally deserved the feeling, I know. But that didn’t stop me from resenting Noah for it. Had I expected him to fall to his knees and thank me for taking matters into my own hands? Maybe praise my abilities and the ease with which I manipulated a sociopath? Sure. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a part of me that had wanted him to do just that. I felt bad, but there was a part of me that wasn’t the least bit sorry for what I’d done. He hadn’t been totally honest with me either. Right?

Ahhh, relationships. This was why I’d never had many. I really wasn’t good at them.

Okay, enough whining. Noah and I would fix this
if we wanted to be together, and if we didn’t…well that was that. But sitting around here worrying about it wasn’t an option. I wasn’t going to let a fight wreck my day.

When the phone rang a few minutes later, I put aside my latte (full of fatty-feel-goodness, no skinny today) and the file I was reading, and answered with a peppy, “Dawn Riley speaking.”

“Good morning, Dawn Riley,” came a familiar low and slightly gravelly voice.

I smiled, feeling better already. “Antwoine!”

Antwoine Jones and I had met right before Karatos began screwing with my life. He was the only human, besides Noah and my mother, who knew what I was. Antwoine had been in a long-term relationship with a succubus before my father put an end to it years ago. Antwoine knew a lot about the Dreaming—way more than I did. I don’t know what I would have done without him when I faced Karatos.

“Girl, what kind of trouble have you gotten into this time?” I don’t know how he knew these things but, God love him, he seemed to know me better than I knew myself at times.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Word has it that the Warden had you brought before the Council.”

See? He’s human, banned from the Dreaming and he
still knows stuff no human should. He refused to tell me how he knew these things either.

“She did, but I’m good.” I hesitated. “I think.”

His low chuckle made me smile again, despite how foolish I felt. “You know, I know someone who might be able to give you some information about Miz Padera.”

He knew the Warden’s name. Huh. “Who might be able to give me information?”

“Madrene,” came the soft reply.

Madrene was the succubus Antwoine loved. He hadn’t seen her for years since my father banned him from the Dreaming. Of course, Antwoine had his own little “cell” within the Dream Realm—humans can’t survive without dreams. I had promised Antwoine I’d try to track down his former lover in return for all he’d done for me. So far, I hadn’t kept my word.

Now would be a good time, I think. I risked pissing Morpheus off by doing so, but even he couldn’t deny the debt owed to Antwoine, so I didn’t think he’d give me too much grief. Besides, I’d rather have my father be angry at me than renege on a promise. And if Madrene could help with the Warden, it was so worth the risk.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve been preoccupied lately. I’ll look for her, okay?” I wasn’t sure exactly when, but soon. Tonight was going to be dedicated to getting things right between me and Noah. “Tomorrow.”

“You’re a good girl, Dawn.”

I didn’t feel it. “Hold the praise till I deserve it.”

He chuckled. “Meanwhile, you wanna have lunch tomorrow? You can fill me in on what you’ve gotten yourself into while I’ve been gone.”

“That could take a while,” I replied with a grin. “You buyin’?”

“Maybe.”

I knew he was teasing. He would rather bite off his own arm than let me pay for his meal. Antwoine was fairly well off, and he had some old-fashioned notions about things. It would be a fight just to get him to go Dutch.

“Then I will clear my social calendar.”

“Great. I’ll meet you at that Thai place we went to last time. One o’clock.”

When I hung up I had a more positive feeling about the day than I had ten minutes ago. It would be good to see Antwoine again—he made everything seem right with the world.

My last appointment of the day was at four o’clock. Deandra, a sophomore at a city high school, had been sent to see me by her mother who was an old friend of Bonnie’s. Deandra’s father died seven months ago and the girl had been experiencing reoccurring dreams of her father ever since. Most would probably assume that this was Deandra’s mind’s way of letting go of her fa
ther, but since in all the dreams her father continuously stated how he wished they could be together again, I looked at it from a different perspective.

The Dreaming existed between the human realm and that of Death. After all, if you know your mythology, you know that my father is the nephew of Death. I’m not sure if that’s the actual relationship or not, but regardless, I had a very strong suspicion that Deandra’s father was caught in the Dreaming, unable to move on. Like one of those shades in Hadria’s cave.

I also suspected that he was going to unintentionally talk his daughter into killing herself, because that was what she thought he wanted her to do. I urged her to realize that her father would not want her to hurt herself, no matter how much he wanted to see her.

Deandra left after promising me she wouldn’t try to kill herself, and with several possibilities of other things her father might be telling her firmly (I hoped) rooted in her mind. Hopefully I had done my job, because if that little girl hurt herself, I was going to need a very long leave of absence.

I leaned back in my chair and took a deep breath. Any minute, Bonnie would come in to let me know any changes in my schedule for tomorrow, and ask how my day was. But for now, I was alone, and my thoughts closed in on me like hungry wolves.

Thinking of Deandra’s father and what I would say
to him made me think of what I had done to Durdan and that, of course, led to the inevitable thoughts of Jackey Jenkins. All she had done was embarrass me by pointing out that my period had spotted through my jeans. What I had done in retaliation was way worse.

I should never have been able to do what I did. A fifteen-year-old kid should never have that kind of power. What had felt so satisfying at the time, now left a sour taste in my mouth and a horrible sense of shame and regret in my soul.

I could probably try to go into Jackey’s dreams again and attempt to make it right, but I hated to think what dreaming of me might do to her. And I had no idea how to fix something that had happened thirteen years ago. I didn’t think I could. Some scars went too deep.

And frankly, I was too chicken-shit to face the damage I’d done.

At exactly 5:15 I was saved anymore self-introspection by Bonnie’s light tapping on the door. She didn’t wait for me to tell her to come in, but rather swooped in immediately after lowering her fist. This was why I opened portals in the bathroom—with the door locked.

“You must be beat,” she remarked, as she set a small stack of folders on my desk. “You’ve been here since before me.”

I smiled wearily as she scooped up the folders for today’s appointments out of the basket. She kept me organized to a fault, God love her. “I am beat.”

“That’s too bad.” She flashed me a coy grin. “Noah’s here.”

Oh crap. I wasn’t thinking I’d have to face him quite so soon. “I guess I’d better perk up then, eh?”

She didn’t respond in the salacious manner I’d come to expect from her. Instead, she gave me a close, and scrutinizing look. “You okay, kiddo?”

I nodded, like I was fifteen and trying to convince my mother that I hadn’t been smoking. “Fine. Just a little tired.”

Bonnie had kids—though you’d never know it from her figure—and it was obvious I wasn’t fooling her. She let it go, though, with a, “Hmm.”

“Give me a minute,” I told her as she reached the door.

Again with the close look. She saw way more than I was comfortable with. “Do I need to tear a strip off that boy?”

I couldn’t help the smile I gave her. “No. I just need to take care of some stuff first.” “Stuff” being my face, my nerves, my courage.

“Just buzz when you’re ready.” I knew at that moment that Bonnie would keep Noah on ice for days if I needed her to. “Do you need anything else?”

“Thanks, but I’m good.”

The second she shut the door, I stood up and headed for the bathroom. I just needed a moment to pull myself together, and nothing gave me more courage than an impeccable face. A touch up of perfume, and antiperspirant helped too.

I barely reached the bathroom door when I felt the world give out beneath me. No, the world was
ripped
out from around me. I was yanked into the Dreaming without finesse, without care, and without my permission.

“What the hell?” I whirled around, still dizzy, to face my host.

The Warden smiled at me with bitter satisfaction, her crimson lips thin and wide. “Hello, Dawn. You just can’t stay out of trouble can you?”

I was too pissed to be as scared as I probably should have been. Not even Morpheus had pulled me in without my permission. I didn’t know that anyone could. If the Warden had that kind of power, she was not someone to screw with. “What do you want?” I demanded.

The Warden’s smile widened. She looked like a cross between Nicole Kidman and the Joker in my mind. “I want to talk to you about what you did last night.”

My spine stiffened and I rose to my full height. I didn’t actually think I’d intimidate her, but it didn’t hurt to make myself as big as possible—mostly for my own benefit. “I appreciate the interest, but I’m a little busy
right now.” I turned to leave. Could I leave? What if she was strong enough to hold me there?

I didn’t get a chance to find out, because she spoke again, “Did you really think you could get away with going into Phillip’s dream and manipulating him like that?”

Something in her tone grabbed my attention with an oily fist. Slowly, I faced her, all thoughts of leaving on hold for the moment. “I didn’t hurt him.”

“You could have.”

“But I
didn’t
.” I met her gaze with an unflinching one of my own.

Apparently she was in the mood to toy with me. “I cannot imagine how you even came to exist let alone how you managed to survive all these years. One more example of the ruination you’ll bring down upon our world. And your father allows it.”

Ruination? Nice. “Is that discontent I hear?” I kept my voice neutral. “Sounds like you’re one of the assholes trying to make my father’s life difficult.” Karatos had told me that there were people in the Dreaming who were unhappy with my father and how he ran things—mostly that he had my mother living with him, and let me run around loose. Morpheus had no idea how deep it went—or obviously how seriously he should take their little revolution.

The Warden shrugged. “I never meant to give any such impression.”

I smiled grimly. “That’s it, cover your ass.”

Bright eyes narrowed. “It’s not my ass you should be concerned with.”

“Don’t threaten me unless you can back it up.” Where was all this bravado coming from? “And don’t give me any of this ‘rules’ crap. The reason you’re so scared of me is because there aren’t any rules for what I can do.” And that was true. I hadn’t broken any rules by bringing Noah into the Dreaming because no other Dreamkin could do that—not even my father. And my kind influenced dreams all the time. So maybe I had bent the rules a bit, but I hadn’t broken any.

“Scared of you?” The Warden—Padera—sneered. “I don’t fear you. I despise
you
.”

“Why is that anyway?” I truly wanted to know. “Because I’m half human? Or because you believe some prophecy that I’m going to destroy the world?”

Her features hardened. “Before Morpheus brought your mother into our world, there was order and balance. That all changed once you were born. More and more humans have been able to interact with the Dreaming. The veil between the worlds is thinning, bringing destruction ever closer to our realm.”

Great. She considered that proof that I was a destroy
er of worlds. What bullshit. “None of that has been my intention.”

“But it’s your fault.”

Could she prove that? “The Council doesn’t seem to think so.”

“What do you suppose their reaction will be when they learn of this latest stunt? It’s the second time you’ve done this kind of thing, isn’t it? Of course, this time to a lesser degree. Do you know that poor girl still dreams about what you did to her. Her mind has never fully healed.”

I so did not want to hear this. “I was a kid. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“But you do now, don’t you?”

She had me there. “So, what are you going to do about it?” Was there anything she could do? If there was, wouldn’t she have the Council with her? Instead, she’d come to me alone.

Again with the creepy smile. “I’ve already done it. I took away what you did to Phillip. He doesn’t remember any of it.”

My hands curled into fists. “You stupid cow! You let a rapist go on his merry way because you had a score to settle with me?”

That erased some of her glee. “I released a dreamer from the manipulations with which you bound him.”

“Bullshit. If you were that magnanimous you would have done the same to Jackey years ago. You did it out of spite. You bitch.”

She went dark—almost like a negative image—for a split second before whipping herself toward me. “You pathetic half-breed! You have no right to wield any power in this world! You never should have been allowed to live!”

Half-breed? Shouldn’t have been allowed to live? I leaned close, putting my face in hers. And I smiled as coldly as I could. “But I do have power. Lots of it. You might be the head of the Nightmares, but I am still the daughter of Morpheus, and you will treat me accordingly or I will fuck you up.” Obviously I was still carrying some of that darkness with me, because normally I’d be at least a little scared right now.

“How dare you,” she whispered.

I was all shock and amazement—in a mocking kind of way. “You’ve got some nerve, lady. I convinced a serial rapist to turn himself into the police and now you’ve let him run free. The blood of his next victim is all over your hands.”

The Warden sneered at me. “Knowing that causes you the least bit of distress gives me the greatest satisfaction.”