Dark Side of Dawn: The Nightmare Chronicles (3 page)

Sometimes it’s hard even for me to wrap my head around not being totally human. Noah had taken it well when he found out what I was. He had suspicions before I told him the truth—actually it was Karatos who told him, I just filled in the blanks. He accepted what I am and asked questions when he needed to. I don’t
think I would have handled it so well were our roles reversed.

Noah and I climbed the stairs to his apartment in silence. He hadn’t come right out and asked me to stay, but he hadn’t let go of me since we left the hospital. I assumed he wasn’t ready to let me go just yet.

The glossy wood, high creamy walls and huge windows of his home welcomed us with a stillness that was calming and strangely welcoming. We went upstairs to his loft bedroom, stripped and crawled between the soft, buttery sheets. Thank God I didn’t have any appointments booked until eleven. I could catch a little sleep before going into work.

“Are you all right?” I asked him—finally—as he drew me close.

“No,” Noah replied, rubbing his hand up and down my arm, which was draped over his chest. His fingers were warm and soothing.

“She’ll be all right,” I promised, though I had no right. I was sincere in my hopes that she would recover with no lasting damage done physically or emotionally.

“Can you help her?”

I stiffened. He felt it too. He had to. “Noah, Amanda said she didn’t want to talk to me. I can’t force her. Given my relationship with you, I think its best that I don’t cross any lines. Besides, I don’t have much ex
perience with victims of rape. She deserves treatment from someone who knows what they’re doing.”

He looked down at me. I could feel his fathomless gaze on the top of my head. “You have experience with dreams,” he said softly. “Could you help her there?”

I laughed in disbelief, lifting up on my elbow to look at him. “The man who told me to stay out of his dreams wants me to intrude upon someone else’s?” So much for a pleasant reunion between the two of us.

He didn’t even flinch. “If it will help her, yes.” His brow puckered. “I’m not asking you to alter her thoughts or mess with her head.”

“Then what are you asking?”

His frown deepened. “I don’t know.”

The defensiveness that had crept over me loosened its hold at the frustration in his expression. He felt helpless—a state no one liked to be in, especially a man who swore never to be helpless again. I wasn’t jealous because it was for Amanda, and I wasn’t angry that he asked me to use my abilities for his ex-wife. What I felt was sympathy for him—and something warm and fuzzy too. He was a good man.

“I’ll check on her,” I told him. “But not tonight. The pain meds will make it difficult for her to dream.”

“Thank you.” He yawned, his eyes closing. “I hate thinking about what Karatos did to you.”

“Ssh. That doesn’t matter.” I wondered if he would bring that up. We hadn’t really talked much about it at the time, or afterward for that matter. It was old, as far as I was concerned. I was starting to become part of the “that which does not kill us makes us stronger” club. Maybe it was because I’d watched
Steel Magnolias
one too many times, or maybe I was finally growing up, but Karatos no longer had any power over me, and I refused to give any to his memory.

Noah fell asleep before I did. I wanted to make sure he was restful before I let myself go. He didn’t like me popping unexpectedly into his dreams, but I’d keep my senses open to him in case he called.

I slipped into the realm the “normal” way this time. It was just like slipping out had been earlier. At least I was getting the hang of
something
. My dream self relaxed on a nice, warm beach beneath a hot sun until a familiar shadow fell over me.

I opened my eyes. Looming over me was Verek. The last time we met on a beach he’d teased me and lost some clothes—a rather splendid sight. Right now, he looked grim.

“No more training tonight,” I told him warily. “I’m not up for it.”

Verek shook his head and squatted beside me. The muscles in his thighs bulged beneath the fine fabric
covering them. “I’m here to serve summons on you, my lady.”

My lady? Usually he called me Princess and only in the most mocking of tones. “That’s a little formal isn’t it?” I laughed. Verek didn’t. So I sat up. “Shit, Verek. What kind of summons?”

He sighed. “Tonight you will stand before the Nightmare Council and face inquiry into your actions.”

My heart gave a thud. “My actions? What have I done?”

He looked almost sympathetic. “The Warden was there when you brought Noah into our world, Dawn. You broke the rules and now you must stand before the counsel and explain yourself.”

Explain myself? Part of me wanted to tell him just what he could do with his summons—what the Warden could do for that matter. I hadn’t known when I brought Noah into the Dream Realm during our fight against Karatos that it was something I wasn’t allowed to do, never mind that it had been something I shouldn’t be
able
to do.

How could they punish me for doing something no one ever thought possible? But apparently it fell under some rule about not endangering humans. Please, I had been trying to save Noah, not hurt him.

“This is bullshit,” I told him. “The Council is freaked
out by me and is looking for a way to keep me under control.” I am the daughter of the lord of this realm! Just who does this Warden person think he was?

“What if I refuse?” I asked.

Verek’s rugged features hardened. “Then I am to bring you back to the castle in shackles to await the proceedings.”

“My father won’t stand for that.”

Now he looked downright pitying. “It was your father who gave the order.”

Oh, damn.

“You look like crap.” This lovely sentiment was the first thing I heard as I stepped into the reception area of the Madison Avenue offices I shared with the Drs. Clarke.

Noah’s stepfather Edward and stepbrother Warren were psychiatrists who offered me my own office within their successful practice. Edward claimed to be impressed with a paper I wrote on lucid dreaming, but I think their offer had more to do with Noah than me. Still, I hoped to prove myself worthy of their kindness and grabbed the opportunity to build my own practice.

I paused in the reception area, still a little awed by
the marble floor, richly colored rugs, and elegant but comfortable furniture. Soft lighting, plush cushions, and subdued but colorful artwork kept the space from seeming stuffy, and gave it a welcoming air. I’d really lucked out when Warren and Edward offered me a spot within their practice.

Bonnie Nadalini was at her huge oak desk in the empty waiting room, smiling at me with a coy smile that seemed possible only by women of a certain age. And by that I mean women who have reached the “I am woman, hear me roar” stage of life—usually her late forties, early fifties. I’d brought her over from the sleep center—and the Clarkes gave her a position as well. I thought the world of her, and that was why I didn’t take offense at her pointing out the obvious.

I shot her a patently false smile. “You always know just what to say to a girl.”

She shrugged, flicking her carefully highlighted blond hair over a thin shoulder with a manicured hand. Her nails were fire engine red today. “It’s only because I care, kiddo.” Her tone was light, but there was real concern in her green eyes. “You okay?”

Bonnie didn’t know that I wasn’t all human. I mean really, how could I tell her that? However, she’d been with me through everything at the sleep institute, and she’d been there for me when Karatos killed one of my patients to get to me. She knew about my strange rela
tionship with my family, and she knew that I was dating Noah. In fact, she was very much a mother figure to me—especially since my own mother had been absent for part of my life.

I nodded. “Just tired. We had to go to the hospital last night. Noah had a family emergency.” It was the best way I could think to phrase it without violating Amanda’s privacy.

And without telling her that a Nightmare had come to me in my sleep and told me that my father had given him permission to forcibly bring me into the realm.

Lines etched across Bonnie’s forehead. She didn’t believe in Botox and having her muscles cut and all that cosmetic stuff. I didn’t have any lines yet, so I reserved judgment for when that time actually came.

“What kind of an emergency?” she asked. “Is Noah all right?”

Bonnie sometimes acted like a horn-dog, especially where Noah was concerned, but I knew she truly liked him and wanted things to work out for us. “He’s fine.” Then I added, “Everyone’s fine.”

The lines eased, but she still looked concerned. “You sure, kiddo? I can rearrange your schedule for the morning if you need to be with him.”

I handed her the chai latte I’d bought for her and lifted my own huge paper cup. “What I need is appointments.” I had bills to pay. “Let me down this bad boy
and I’m ready to go.”

Bonnie eagerly took a drink. Pleasure softened her face. She was so easy. “I love you, doll. I really do.”

I grinned. “I know it. Hey, can you pull the files for my first two appointments and bring them to my office? I want to be on the ball when they arrive.”

She said that she would and I went to unlock the door to my office. At the sleep institute I’d had a little office. Here, I had a larger space—with my own bathroom! Not just larger, but nicer. No longer was I stuck in a box with white walls and nondescript furniture. Here, I had a pale carpet, a salmon-colored microfiber sofa and matching armchair. Both were overstuffed and so comfortable you could sink right into them. My coffee table was topped with light sage green satin, quilted and firm enough to hold a cup of coffee without spilling. I had curtains in the windows, softly printed, hanging from thick wooden rods. I’d handpicked the art on the wall—most of which had been painted by Noah, depicting soft, gauzy scenes in pre-Raphaelite colors that made me feel good just looking at them.

My desk—a large, heavy, very English-looking monstrosity sat in the back corner with a large bookshelf and an office chair that matched the other furniture. I set my laptop bag on the desk along with my coffee and hung my coat up in the small closet. Then I made sure there was toilet paper in my darling little loo—it even
had a shower!—and that it was tidy and clean.

I was unpacking my laptop when Bonnie knocked and came in with the files. “Here you go. Your first two appointments.” She paused and gazed around the room. “You know, this is nicer than most apartments.”

I grinned. “We lucked out with this space, Bonnie.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not kidding. Hey, you want to do lunch today?”

I did, and I told her so. She left after we agreed on a spot. Bonnie was a welcome distraction, just as my clients would be—I didn’t like calling them patients. They came to me and talked about issues they had in their lives. We talked a lot about dreams. Most of my clients were bothered by nightmares—traditional ones, not ones like mine—or disturbing dreams of one sort or another. I helped them work through the issues that caused them, and taught them to use their dreams to their own benefit. Dreams can be fantastic therapy if we as humans can make ourselves face and understand them. That’s the hard part.

So I was glad that my first appointment would arrive soon. Left on its own for too long, my mind either drifted to thoughts of poor Amanda and her bloody scalp, or Verek and the announcement that the Nightmare Warden wanted to see me.

Wanted my head on a platter was more like it.

It was no secret that there were many in the Dream
Realm who didn’t like my father or his ways of ruling the land. They didn’t like me or my mother either. We were looked upon as evidence of my father’s “weakness.”

Did I mention that I’m not supposed to exist? A lot of people in my father’s world wish that I didn’t. And I was beginning to get a little paranoid that maybe someone was trying to make that wish come true.

Before I was born my mother lost a child. She was overwhelmed by grief, and in her depression slept a lot. Morpheus was apparently struck by her sadness, and her pretty face. He began doing things to try to help her and they became lovers. My mother wasn’t the first human to attract the Dream King’s attention, but she was the first to give birth to a child of both realms. The only one of my kind, the Dreamkin tend to either be in awe or fear of me. And they despised my mother for making Morpheus vulnerable.

Really, shouldn’t someone wonder what it was about her that made her capable of having his child? How was she capable of getting pregnant in a
dream
? No one knew the answer. Morpheus had lots of theories—the best of which was that somehow he had made my mother’s dreams so real to her that she managed to make them a reality. Therefore, she wanted to have a child—his child—so badly her body made it happen.

Makes you go, hmmm, doesn’t it?

While they were at it, shouldn’t someone wonder why
she had managed to stay asleep for more than two years, her body in stasis in Toronto, while she lived the life of a “desperate housewife” in the Dreaming? Obviously my mother wasn’t a normal human anymore than I was.

Okay, maybe she was
slightly
more normal than I.

And what about me? I used to think I was immortal, but now I wasn’t so sure. I can die in this world—I think. But in the Dream Realm I would have to be “unmade” to knock me out of existence. And it probably wouldn’t hurt to think that someone other than my father might be able to make that happen. Keep myself on my toes, so to speak.

I didn’t know for sure that someone wanted me dead, and I had some confidence in my own ability to defend myself. I also was having one of those moments when I realized that my life could be worse. I’d take my lumps from the Nightmare Warden because I had to. I would probably survive it with a lot less trauma than Amanda was suffering through right now.

I opened the first file. No way was I going to fill my head with images of Amanda before seeing a client. That just wouldn’t be fair. My good intentions were thwarted, however, when the phone rang. Most of my calls go through Bonnie first, and only a handful of people had my direct number. Noah was one of them, and somehow I knew it was him calling before I even picked up the receiver and heard his low, chocolaty
voice on the other end.

“Hey, Doc.” My stomach fluttered like the wings of a thousand caged butterflies at his greeting. Part of it was my usual reaction to him, but the rest of it was guilt. I hadn’t told him about my summons to appear before the Warden, and I had no intention of telling him anything about it unless I had to. He didn’t need me adding another damsel in distress to the list.

Oh frig. As soon as the phrase filtered through my brain, I winced. Damsel in distress? That was cold of me, and uncalled for.

“Hey, Noah.” Could he hear the lameness in my voice? “What’s up?”

“I’m at the hospital with Amanda.”

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s good.” I could tell from the stiffness in his voice that she really wasn’t—not in his opinion. “We were wondering if maybe you could stop by after work?”

We
were wondering. I forced a smile onto my face, even though there was no one there to appreciate the effort. I should say no. “Sure. I should be there around four thirty. Is that okay?”

“Great.” I could hear the relief and pleasure in his voice. It buoyed me a little—but only just a little. “See you then.”

I hung up. We hadn’t gotten to the stage where we
said things like “love you” at the end of a phone conversation, and that was okay. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. But I wasn’t sure how I felt about this latest development either. Referring to himself and Amanda as “we” was innocent enough, and understandable. After all, they had been married once upon a time. Those bonds, even once broken, were hard to sometimes sever completely.

Was I jealous? I could say I wasn’t, but no one would believe that, would they? I was an awful person being even the slightest bit threatened by Amanda when she had been through such a terrible ordeal. Awful and petty. That didn’t stop the feeling, however. I was jealous—just a little. I was jealous over the bond they had despite the breakup of their marriage. I was jealous that Noah would drop everything to help her—I wanted to be the only woman he dropped everything to be with.

But it was more than my own miserable insecurities niggling at me. I wasn’t really worried that Noah would dump me and go running back to a woman who had cheated on him and brought about the end of their marriage. No, I was worried about Noah’s attachment to a woman who had been horribly mistreated by a man and was vulnerable.

A woman he might see as needing protection.

I didn’t know much about Noah’s past. He simply didn’t talk about it. I had, however, picked up enough to
know that his father had been a real piece of work. And I had seen something in Noah’s art, and in his dreams (that was why he didn’t want me just “showing up” anymore) that gave me enough insight to guess what his mother must have gone through.

I could very easily imagine a young Noah championing his bullied mother. I’d bet that’s why he learned aikido as well—so he could fight for her, be her knight in shining armor.

And that’s exactly why I was a little worried about his new devotion to Amanda. Noah was a good man, but he had a thing about rescuing women, protecting them. I could see it in his work, feel it in his dreams, and hear it on occasion in his words. Maybe I was overly paranoid, but come on—I hadn’t gone to school for as long as I had to appease my paranoia. I was trained to see these things. And I saw all of this in my boyfriend’s actions.

I didn’t want Noah to rescue me, or appoint himself my protector. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit concerned that those feelings inside him might not overpower all else where she was concerned. If anyone needed a champion right now it was Amanda, and Noah just might indulge his need to be needed.

And I was worried about what indulging that need might do to us when we were still so new.

But enough of that. I finished skimming through the
file on my first client and glanced up at the clock. As though watching me on hidden camera, Bonnie buzzed to tell me that Teresa, my first appointment, had arrived. I’d managed to quickly skim her file and the notes her referring doctor had made. She could fill me in on the rest.

A few of those people involved in my dream studies at the old clinic had decided to visit me for dream therapy on occasion, but most of my case load came from referrals at the moment. Right now, I didn’t have many cases, but that would change soon enough. I hoped. I had a really good deal with Warren and Edward, but I still had an apartment to pay for, food, and an addiction to makeup that needed to be indulged on occasion.

So I put all else from my head and applied my focus and energy on Teresa and her issues. After her forty-five minutes was up I had another client, and then lunch with Bonnie. By the time we returned to the office I was tired of having little questions pop up in my head when they weren’t wanted. I couldn’t shake the Warden’s summons, or the fact that my father had sanctioned them. I guess I was more concerned than I thought I was. And it certainly couldn’t hurt to be prepared.

I told Bonnie I had work to do and that I didn’t want to be interrupted, then I locked the door to my office just in case, and went to the bathroom. I took a deep breath and gathered my energy. Then, without using
my hands, I pulled open a portal between this world and the Dream Realm. I thought of it as a cosmic zipper that I could pull open between dimensions. My father would probably laugh at the comparison, but it worked for me and that was really all that mattered.

It was literally a fracture of the world, the air before me seemed solid and tangible. It separated like fabric tore down the center, revealing a world beyond this; a world shrouded in mist and darkness, where lights twinkled like stars and anything was possible.