Dark Side of Dawn: The Nightmare Chronicles (14 page)

Well, wasn’t she all business? “Antwoine Jones,” I replied bluntly.

She started, spilling wine on the plush carpet. Her eyes were wide as silver dollars as she stared at me. “Antwoine.” Her voice was hoarse. “You know Antwoine?”

“I can arrange a meeting,” I went on, and she stilled. “If that’s what you want.”

Her cheeks were flushed, her gaze rife with disbelief. “Your father forbade us to ever see each other again.”

“My father’s not the one making this deal.” Ohh, how arrogant and certain of myself I sounded! “I can put the two of you together again. Will you help me?”

Madrene sat in silence, her hand pressed against her mouth. What the hell was taking her so long? Either she wanted to see Antwoine or she didn’t.

“You will take all the blame and punishment if my lord finds out?”

Her lord was my father. I didn’t like the sound of “blame” or “punishment” but he would be a lot easier on me than he would on either of them. Besides, it was for a good cause, and Morpheus was a hypocrite.

“I will.” Another promise that I hoped I could keep. I could assume all the responsibility, but whether or not my father chose to hold me to it was up to him.

But my words seemed good enough for Madrene. She nodded. “Then I will tell you what you want to know about Padera.”

I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until her words sent it whooshing out of my lungs in one huge, relieved sigh. “Thank you.”

Golden eyes glittered. “Do not thank me. Seeing Antwoine again will be thanks enough.”

A little shiver ran down my spine. As gorgeous as she was, there was something hard inside this succubus—something that told me that if I didn’t manage to pull off getting her and Antwoine together again, the Warden and a crazy rapist would be the least of my problems.

And I really didn’t need any more problems.

“My boobs are going to pop out of this thing.”

Lola laughed as she tugged up the top of my Halloween costume. I was dressed as Wonder Woman, complete with red and gold bustier that defied the laws of nature. Thankfully the bottom was a little skirt rather than the usual panties. I won’t even wear bathing suits that don’t have something that covers my upper thighs.

“Damn, girl,” my roommate enthused. “You look hot.”

“Really?” I was, of course, uncertain. Sexy costumes weren’t exactly something I had a lot of experience with. And this one was definitely sexy, with the shimmery nude pantyhose and knee-high red leather boots—not to mention the bondage-esque wrist cuffs for deflecting bullets, and thin golden lasso attached at my waist.
I had to admit—I did look good with my hair all huge and teased up around the gold tiara. I had good hair.

“Noah’s gonna take one look at you and know exactly what kind of treat he wants tonight.”

I laughed despite the heat filling my cheeks. I had picked out this costume with Noah in mind, knowing how much he liked superheroes. Knowing that Wonder Woman was a favorite of his.

“He’ll be here soon,” I allowed, reaching for the false eyelashes on my dresser. “Would you mind grabbing the tube of
MAC
lipstick that’s in the front of my purse?”

“No problem,” she said with a salute and left the room as I applied glue to the edge of a fringe of lashes and adhered them just above my own. I did the same with the other side, pressing them quickly into place. I didn’t wear false lashes often, but I’d done it enough that I didn’t have to fuss and fool around with them.

Lola returned with the lipstick and I filled in my already lined lips with dark red. Perfect. My lips are huge, but I kinda like ’em, so I play them up when I can, and tonight the bold color looked good with my dark-rimmed, heavily lashed eyes.

I surveyed myself in the mirror. With the makeup and the full-bosom, cinched-waist illusion created by the bustier, I looked like I’d just stepped out of a comic book. I smiled. I really did look pretty darn good, if I said so myself.

It was nice to be going out, to be doing something normal. I was still feeling the stress of everything in both my worlds, but I was optimistic about the Dreaming mess, and tonight it was just me and Noah, so I was happy.

The buzzer sounded just as I walked out into the living room to slip my lipstick back into my purse. I had a little red handbag that would hold the essentials—lipstick, powder, eyelash glue, ID, and fifty bucks in case of an emergency. It wasn’t like having a purse would ruin the outfit anymore than the coat I was going to have to wear over it. It was warm, but not that warm.

Lola answered the door while I rummaged through the closet for a coat. I heard her exclaim, “Holy frig!” as I pulled one off the hanger. Noah’s costume must be good. I quickly stepped out of the closet, wanting to present myself in the best light as possible so he could get a load of me as I got a load of him.

My jaw dropped. “Holy frig.”

Noah was Batman. And I don’t mean a cheesy department store Batman. I mean Noah
was
Batman. The suit looked like it had been made to fit him—all sleek and molded and sexy as hell. Christian Bale, eat your heart out.

I couldn’t see his whole face because of the mask, but I could see that he was almost as surprised by my appearance as I was by his.

“You look good, Doc,” he purred in that rough, sexy voice of his. “Really good.”

Lola stood between us, grinning like an idiot. “You guys totally rock the JLA. You just need Supes and the Flash and you’re all set. Well, I’m gonna veg. You guys have fun!” And then she flounced off to her room, leaving us alone.

Noah moved closer, cape fluttering around his legs with the motion. “If it wasn’t such a bitch getting into this getup I’d say screw it and we could spend the night in.”

I admit I shivered as though his voice had managed to caress my spine. In costume we were the same height, but somehow he managed to make me feel feminine and delicate, despite my Amazon façade.

“My costume feels cheap compared to yours.” Now, why the hell did I say that? Granted, it was true, but ridiculous all the same.

Noah lifted a gloved finger and ran it along the tight valley of my cleavage. I shivered again, damn him. “I wouldn’t mind feeling what your costume feels.” Then he grinned. “You know you’re fulfilling a major fantasy for me.”

I arched a brow. “Really?” As if I hadn’t known.

Another step closer, and this time his arms came around me, pulling me tight against him. Any tighter and my boobs really were going to spill out. Strangely
enough, I suddenly didn’t care. I was tingly and warm and feeling very much in character.

His gaze fell to my lips, then my chest, before rising to meet mine once more. “Oh, yeah. Leave it on for me later?”

I reached up and ran my fingers along the smooth skin of his freshly shaved jaw. “Only if you promise to leave on the mask.”

He grinned. “Will it ruin your lipstick if I kiss you?”

I nodded glumly. “Uh, yeah.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips to the flesh just below my collarbone instead, raising those familiar goose bumps on my skin. “I’ll have to make do with other parts.” And then he kissed my shoulder, and up to my throat.

When he was done, my knees were wobbly and I could care less about the damn party.

He helped me with my coat and I yelled good-bye to Lola as I buttoned it. Fudge lifted his head from the couch long enough to yawn in my direction and then went back to sleep.

Noah had brought his car—an old Impala—and for that I was grateful. This outfit wasn’t made to be worn on the back of a motorcycle in October. The Impala was a classic, apparently. Black, shiny with a completely rebuilt engine. I nodded my approval, but really I didn’t care. It looked hot and had plenty of leg room, and that was really all that mattered to me.

The party was at Elly and Matt’s in Brooklyn. I’d met the two of them at a showing of Noah’s work when we first started seeing each other. I didn’t remember much about them except that they had seemed nice. They obviously were quite well off, given their neighborhood. They lived on a lovely tree-lined street in a tall, dark, brick town house. I could see people through the windows, dressed in various costumes, drinking wine amid upscale décor.

We had to park down the street because there wasn’t any space in front of the house. I was a little slower than usual in the big boots, but Noah held my hand and didn’t complain.

Matt answered the door when we rang. He was dressed as a salt shaker and had a plastic Uzi in his hand. Matt was an average-sized guy, and somehow he managed to look both cute and intimidating.

I gave him a quizzical look as I stepped inside and began unbuttoning my coat. “A salt with a deadly weapon?”

He laughed. “Good guess—whoa!” He gave me a once over as I handed him my coat. “Hello, Princess!”

I froze, but just for a second. There was no way Matt could know what I was. And I was dressed as Wonder Woman, aka Princess Diana.

Noah snapped his fingers in front of his friend’s face. “Put your tongue back in your mouth, man.”

Matt had obviously had a couple of drinks, so rather than apologize he just flashed a chastised grin. “You look great, Dawn.” Then to Noah, “Man, you know Wonder Woman can totally kick Batman’s ass.”

Noah’s lips curved as he flashed me an appreciative gaze. “I wouldn’t put up a fight.”

We laughed and Matt shooed us off to join the party while he took care of my coat and purse. I knew he’d been joking, but his words stuck with me for a while. In this world I couldn’t kick Noah’s ass, no way, but in the Dreaming…Did that bother him? And there had been times when I’d felt a surge of power in this realm. What if I was capable of doing some of that stuff here? Would Noah still be okay with it? Or would that part of him that needed to be strong and in control hate feeling weak?

It wasn’t something I ever wanted to test.

Noah introduced me around. I met a Supergirl, and a Xena, but no other Wonder Women were in attendance, which was good. I got a lot of comments on my costume—mostly from guys—which made me both confident and very self-conscious, depending on the way it was delivered.

We’d been there a couple of hours when I felt familiar hands—encased in gloves—settle on my hips. “Let’s go,” Noah whispered in my ear.

I shivered—again—and nodded.

Matt gave me an enthusiastic hug good-bye at the
door, and then told Noah he was a lucky man. We were still laughing when we hit the sidewalk.

The drive home was quiet, but strangely comfortable despite the sexual tension between us. We both knew what was going to happen. And once we reached Noah’s apartment, we headed straight for the bedroom. We left as much of our costumes on as we could, and we bounced back and forth between serious playacting and laughing our asses off. It was good. Very good.

Afterward, when the costumes were all gone, and I had washed off my makeup, we curled up in bed and talked. I felt soft and warm and totally relaxed.

In other words, I never saw it coming.

“I have to ask you something,” Noah said quietly—too quietly.

I lifted my head from his chest and looked down at him, a sudden chill settling around my heart. Did he know I was still trying to get Phil the rapist? “What?”

He kept his dark gaze locked on mine. “Have you ever altered my dreams?”

I hadn’t been expecting that. Quite frankly, I wasn’t sure how to take it either. “Excuse me?”

His fingers trailed down my arm—a gentle caress. “You’ve changed Amanda’s dreams to help her heal. You made the rapist want to confess, and neither of them knows that you were there.”

I pulled away, lifting myself up on my arm so I could put a little distance between us. “You think I’ve played with your head?” Fuck around.

“No.” To his credit he met my gaze and there was nothing but honesty in his eyes. “I want to know if you’ve ever altered my dreams.”

“No,” I replied hotly. “I haven’t—not without your consent. Jesus, Noah. What do you think I am?” I moved to get out of bed but he stopped me.

“Don’t get mad.”

“I’m not mad!” I tried to jerk my arm free of his hold, but he was too strong. And when I felt the burning in my eyes, I stopped, shaken. I didn’t want to test my theory about having powers in this world like this. “I’m hurt.”

He leaned up on his elbow, tugging on my arm to bring me closer. “Look at me.” I did—reluctantly. “Doc, I know how much you want to help people—to fix them. I’m not asking this to piss you off. I just want to know if you’ve tried to fix me.”

“I’ve never done anything to your dreams,” I told him petulantly. “You asked me to stay out of them unless invited and I have.”

His face relaxed. “Okay.”

He sounded so relieved that my feelings bruised a little deeper. But when he hauled me back into his arms, and down onto the bed with him, I didn’t fight, even though he didn’t apologize for asking. It couldn’t
be easy being like he was and being with a person like me. Really, if I were less scrupulous, I could find out every secret he had just by invading his dreams, and he’d never know I was there.

I suppose I should be relieved that he trusted me when I said I would never do such a thing. I should be glad that he believed me. And I was.

But part of me wondered—and not for the first time—what it was that he kept hidden in his dreams.

And why he was so dead against me finding out.

To say that I was tempted to waltz right into Noah’s dreams and demand to know what all the fuss was about would be an understatement. I stayed away for a long time that night, watching him sleep and fighting the temptation to violate his trust.

Noah hadn’t opened his dreams to me, and I really didn’t want to go knocking on his door, so to speak. Besides, I had work to do.

Originally I had thought that Morpheus had taken away Antwoine’s ability to dream, but that was basically murder. What my father had done was lock Antwoine away in his own little corner of the Dreaming, much like I had done to myself after mangling Jackey Jenkins.

Antwoine was able to dream, though, and that’s how I would find him. All I had to do was reach out and find his signature. But first, I had to collect Madrene.

This time I didn’t go into the house, but rather waited in the garden toward the back. Even though it was dark, I could see each bright bloom in the walled area. The air was thick with the smell of jasmine and cinnamon and I breathed deep as I sat on a low stone bench and watched the house for signs of Madrene. Almost every window glowed with soft light—like from a candle or lamp. Some rooms I could see into, but others were shrouded with gauzy curtains that kept me from spying. That was just as well. I had no desire to play voyeur.

I didn’t have to wait long before I heard the soft creak of a door. And then the garden gate swung open and Madrene drifted into the garden. She was so graceful I had to wonder if her feet even touched the ground.

I eyed her white silk gown—the bottom foot of which was a swirl of hand-painted butterflies—with envy. Even if I could afford such a gorgeous thing, I’d never do it justice. “You are so gorgeous,” I said before I could stop myself. “I love that dress.”

She smiled. “Thank you. I like yours as well.”

Confused, I looked down. I had been wearing jeans and a T-shirt, but somehow that had changed. Now I was dressed in a gown very much like hers, only mine was violet and painted with flowers. “What the—?”

The darker woman chuckled as she walked toward me. “A succubus who can’t identify desire when she sees it can’t do her job.”

“I thought sexual desire was your thing.” I towered over her, but she had so much presence I actually felt small next to her. Interesting.

One mocha shoulder shrugged. Her skin looked as smooth and supple as her gown. “It’s the most common, but to be good at my job I’ve studied desire of all types.”

I suppressed a shudder. I could only imagine the freaky things she’d seen and done. “I’d never be able to do what you do.” I meant that sincerely and not as a put-down. I really admired anyone who could separate themselves emotionally. I wish I could.