Dark Side of Dawn: The Nightmare Chronicles (5 page)

As usual, Noah and I didn’t say much on the way back to his place. Maybe it was because so much of what we talked about was personal, or just plain weird, that we didn’t want to chance anyone else hearing. Or maybe all the sights passing by were too much of a distraction. Or maybe we used the time in the cab to collect our thoughts. I know that’s what I did during the drive. We were still new enough in our relationship that we liked to think about what we were going to say to each other before we actually said it.

Regardless, once we were in Noah’s large, open apartment with its big windows and gleaming wood floors, we began to speak. Noah first.

“Is she going to be OK?” he asked as we entered the kitchen.

No need to say who “she” was, of course. “I think so.”

That seemed to give him some relief. What was it like to go through life feeling so much responsibility? I would do what I could for Amanda, but I had no emotional attachment to add weight to the burden.

How much emotional weight did Noah carry?

When he hugged me, I let him, but I was slow to put my own arms around him. I hated being jealous. I’d rather look stupid than feel this suspicion burning inside me.

“Do you still love her?” I asked, tilting my head back to see his face.

Noah stepped back, but he didn’t let go of me—that was good. His expression was surprised—that was good too. “Amanda?”

I nodded. “Are you still in love with her?” That was better phrasing, because of course he loved her on some level, otherwise he wouldn’t be so concerned.

He frowned. “No. Christ, why would you ask me that?”

I shrugged. “I’m jealous.”

The frown disappeared, replaced by an expression of male satisfaction that made me want to give him a purple nurple just to get rid of it. “I kinda like knowing you have a possessive side, Doc.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t. And you didn’t answer my question.” I wasn’t really all that worried about what
his answer would be now that I’d seen how my jealousy affected him.

“Amanda will always matter to me,” he told me with a shrug. As much as I hated hearing it, I admired him for it. “But if I loved her, I wouldn’t be here with you.”

Did that mean he loved me? That was one question I wasn’t brave enough to ask. Besides, we’d only been together a few weeks. It was too soon for love.

God, my heart was pounding like an idiot. I wasn’t going to try to analyze why. And I wasn’t about to ask him why he was with me. Honestly, it just made me sound needy, and even though I was, I didn’t want him to know that. I was so freaked out over facing the Warden tonight, despite my best efforts to remain calm, that I just wanted him to give me another hug and make everything all right.

The scary thing was, I knew Noah would like nothing more than to do just that—make everything all right.

His brow knitted again, pulling the black slashes of his eyebrows tight over his equally as dark eyes. “What’s wrong?”

I really didn’t want to bother him with my problems. Honestly. I sighed and glanced over my shoulder at him as I turned toward the cupboard where he kept the menus. “Family stuff. Nightmare stuff. Professional stuff. You name it, it’s going on.” When his frown deepened, I tried to smile. “I’m okay. Really.”

He grabbed my arm—not hard, but just enough to stop me.

“Is it your mom?” he asked, pulling me close again.

I didn’t want to be another victim he tried to save. I didn’t want him to look at me that way. But, I wasn’t going to lie to him either. “She’s worried the specialist my family hired will wake her up.”

“How do you feel about that?”

I smiled despite myself. “Why, I have conflicting emotions concerning that, Dr. Clarke.”

His gaze met mine. He was smiling too, and his eyes sparkled like polished onyx. “Smart ass. What’s the Nightmare stuff?”

My smile melted. I was going to have to tell him eventually—especially if I was in trouble. God, for all I knew, the Warden might question him, or worse, wipe his memory or something. Could the Council do that?

“I’m being brought before the Nightmare Council tonight,” I confided.

He didn’t frown again, but there was concern all over his face. “What for?”

He knew what for—or at least he had an idea. I could feel it in the sudden tension that stiffened his muscles and the thinness of his mouth. “For bringing you into the Dreaming.”

“But you did that to save me.”

“I freaked them out.” And by them, I meant every
one who had been there with Morpheus to witness the visit. I don’t know the exact head count, but some of the Council had been there.

“When did you find out about this?” Noah asked.

I didn’t meet his gaze. “Last night. While we were asleep.”

“When were you going to tell me?”

I tried to grin. “When I had to.”

He didn’t smile. “You should have told me.”

Here we go. The trigger for Noah’s “issues” had just been pulled. “So you could do what? Worry about me as well as Amanda?”

He stomped over to the menu cupboard and pulled a stack out. “I hate it when you try to protect me.” Of course he did. His mother had no doubt tried to protect him as a child.

“Well, I hate when you get all pissy because you can’t take charge!” Okay, maybe that came out a little snarkier than I intended, and maybe it wasn’t totally fair, but it was true. I could have handled that better, but I wasn’t Noah’s doctor, I was his girlfriend. Damn it. I didn’t feel like putting the effort into being totally P.C.

The cupboard door slammed shut and I winced. Noah stood at the granite counter with his back to me, shoulders stiffly bowed, pulling the worn gray of his T-shirt tight across his back. I wanted to go to him and wrap my arms around him, but I didn’t.

“I’m
pissy
,” he growled, not turning around, “because you shut me out of your life—like I can’t handle it.”

“Like you thought Amanda couldn’t handle looking in the mirror?” It wasn’t meant to be a low blow, it was supposed to be a reminder that we all do things that we think will protect people we care about.

He turned around, obviously surprised. “She told you that?”

I nodded, but decided not to tell him that I had given her my compact. We could argue over that another time if necessary. Instead I said, “Noah, I didn’t want to tell you about it until it became an issue.”

“Because you thought I’d freak out?”

“Because Amanda needs your concern more than I do.” Made me sound like a martyr, but it was true. Also a hypocrite. I didn’t like him spending too much time with his ex, yet here I was pretty much telling him to do just that. “I might need your support later, but right now she needs all you can give her.”

He didn’t look particularly happy, but he didn’t look angry either. “I thought you were jealous of my concern for Amanda.”

I shrugged. “I’ll deal.” And I would.

He came to me then, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. Anyone else and I might have recoiled, but I knew Noah would never hurt me. He would rather die than ever hurt me.

“You pretend to be so tough,” he murmured, his thumb stroking my temple. “But you’re not.”

My heart kicked it up a notch at his touch. Was he saying I was needy? Was he saying he liked it? God, I needed therapy. “It’s a gift.”

His forehead came down to rest against mine. “You drive me nuts, but I can’t imagine life without you in it.”

Now my heart was treating my rib cage like a mosh pit—thrashing all over the place in its excitement. “That’s hunger talking.” I cracked wise when faced with something I didn’t know how to respond to.

“You’re right,” he agreed and the next thing I knew, he grabbed me by the waist, lifted me off the floor, and plunked me down on top of the table. I’m a few inches shy of six feet, and a size twelve on a good day, so I find it remarkably sexy when a man can pick me up like I was some kind of delicate flower. Noah knows this, of course. And he does it as often as he can. I think he likes knowing he can turn me on so easily.

His lips curved on one side, making his smile mischievous and boyish. “I am hungry.”

Was he ever! Clothes disappeared as he kissed me. He nibbled on my lips, licked the inside of my mouth where I was so very ticklish, stroked my tongue with his own until my head spun. And then his hands—those beautiful artist hands—were all over me. He could be so gentle, goose bumps raised on my skin, as though
brushed by a soft breeze. And then he could inflict just the right amount of pressure to bring a gasp flying from my lips. He knew exactly how to play me. I tingled from head to foot—some places more than others.

I didn’t care that we ate on that table. We were about to do a helluva lot more than that. Naked, my body tight with need, I let Noah pull my thighs apart. I watched, my mouth dry, as he stepped between in all his golden glory. Noah has quite possibly the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen—all lean muscle and long limbs.

He reached down between us—I could feel his knuckles brush the inside of my thigh—and guided his hard length exactly where I wanted it. The head of his erection nudged, opened me a little and I gripped the edge of the table in anticipation.

Noah lifted one hand so that it caught the back of my neck. There was just enough pressure that I raised my gaze to his, and when I did, I couldn’t look away. He inched closer, slowly filling me as our gazes locked. And when he was as far as he could go, as deep as I could take him, he bent his neck and whispered in my ear, “Don’t ever shut me out.”

I shivered. I couldn’t help it. I liked it when he got all macho on me. I wrapped my legs around him. “Does it feel like I’m shutting you out?”

He growled low in his throat and thrust deep inside me. I gasped and that was the end of the conversation,
until we were both panting incoherently, grunting and groaning as orgasm rocked us both.

Afterward, we dressed, moved the table back to its original spot and decided on Indian for dinner. Both of us were starving.

We sat on the couch, entwined like a couple who’d just had the kind of sex that made everything right with the world and ate chicken tikka masala, mattar paneer, naan, and rice while watching
Say Anything
on Noah’s huge flat screen TV.

“Do you think John Cusack is sexy?” he asked, dipping naan in the masala sauce.

I shoveled a forkful of chicken and rice into my mouth as I nodded. “Every woman I know thinks John Cusack is sexy—especially in
Grosse Pointe Blank
.”

Noah glanced at the guy holding up a huge boom box on the screen and shrugged. “I don’t get it.”

I grinned. “I don’t get Keira Knightley, so we’re even.”

After the movie, we sat together, sharing some warm gulab juman and drinking a kind of chai tea that I’d made from ingredients I’d found in the kitchen. Noah likes to cook, so he’s got almost anything I could want in his cupboards.

In fact, Noah had just about anything I could want in every respect. That was as scary as it was exciting.

“When are you going to go into the Dreaming?” he asked as he offered me a spoonful of the rosewater-soaked breadlike cheese.

“Soon,” I replied, and let him pop the sweet into my mouth. I chewed—bliss!—and swallowed. “I can’t put it off much longer.”

He gave me a concerned look. “You okay?”

“I think so.” I had no idea what the Warden was going to say or do to me. Suppose he—or she?—wanted to lock me up in a cell or something? I couldn’t leave this world for that long. I had responsibilities.

But, there was no point freaking out until I faced the music, so to speak. So, after dessert settled and we’d watched a couple of shows stored on the DVR (we are such TV freaks), I decided it was time. It felt like it was time.

Noah decided to paint for a while. He tried to make it sound like he’d suddenly been inspired, but I think he just wanted to wait up for me.

He went to his studio area and I stayed in the living room. Once I was alone, I took a deep breath and opened the portal I needed to cross over. I’m ashamed to think of how much courage it took for me to step through. I was so tempted to let Verek come and fetch me like a Dream Realm bounty hunter.

When I opened the portal, I wished for it to take me
where I needed to go. Sometimes this worked and other times it didn’t. I’m pretty sure the problem with getting it to work consistently was with me, but at least this time it seemed to listen. I stepped out of Noah’s living room, crossing the veil between the worlds. It was like stepping outside after having been cooped up in a stuffy attic. The night air was sweet—no pollution in the Dreaming. And above, a million stars twinkled in a black-as-velvet sky.

I wished to go to wherever the Council wanted me to be, and ended up standing at the base of wide shallow steps, leading up a small hill to what looked like an ancient temple complete with Corinthian columns. Torches flickered on every third step, lighting a path for me to the looming doorway where two well-muscled guards stood, looking grim and deadly. Neither of them looked at me, although I thought something changed in the female’s expression.

What did they think of me? I wondered as I began ascending the steps. Did they revile me as so many others, or were they in awe of the half-breed? And what lay in wait for me beyond that door?

I struggled against the anxiety clawing at me, tightening my chest. I had never been much of one for panic attacks and I really hoped that wasn’t going to change right now.

I paused for a moment at the entry way to draw a deep
breath and square my shoulders. Regardless of how I felt, I wasn’t about to let it show. Like the mist surrounding this world—mist that had thankfully been elsewhere tonight—these people were not my friends, and there were no doubt some who would hurt me if they could. I had to look strong, and be ready.

The room before me was large, with a pale yellow stone floor covered with rich Persian rugs. Statues of various men and women dressed in flowing robes lined the room. More torches burned in here, snug in sconces high on the windowless walls. Flickering shadows danced along the rough walls—mine was one of them. Was it my imagination or did the shadows seem somewhat out of time with the bodies they belonged to? No, it wasn’t my imagination. The shadows had a life of their own, bending and twisting to the beat of music I couldn’t hear. My own dark twin moved like water toward the front of the room. I followed behind.