Dreamscape (12 page)

At my challenge, she swan dived into
our
pool from a
forty foot ledge. It was the single most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, as if
she was born to fly and got the wrong body.

It’s hard for me to not notice her beauty, but I can’t
allow myself to focus on that part of her right now. I am here to train a
champion. She is already a fighter, so my work should be fairly easy, but
somehow I can’t see things going smoothly.

When I grin at her, her face splits into a rewarding smile.
“Beat that,” she says, taunting me with another victory dance.

I give her all of half a second to ponder what I’m going to
do before I’m standing next to her. Her eyebrows furrow and she glances to
where I stood only moments before.

Her voice comes out raspy. “Wait. That was. Holy cow! I
mean, you just, like, flashed up here.”

She stares at me as though I might spontaneously combust at
any moment, and I can’t help but laugh. “Something like that,” I tell her. I
think I am getting better at adapting to her dialect. It never ceases to throw
me when I first begin conversation with a recruit. I’m able to adjust in the
Dreamscape, where my power affords me convenience, but it is difficult to keep
up pretense when I am in my own home. Giving her a nudge, I say, “Do it again.”

She takes longer climbing down. I frown. If she is afraid
of heights, this may be a weak spot to overcome. Many times humans are willing
to do things in their dreams they would never do in the mortal realm.

“Ready?” she asks, and I nod, amused she feels she has to
ask my permission.

Her time is better, but only slightly. I expected nothing
more, yet her spirits deflate when I tell her.

As if of their own volition, my fingers find their way to
her cheek. She flinches, but she lets me touch her. My heart thuds in my chest
as I trace her hairline and push a lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry,”
I say, aching to hold her. “It won’t be long before you will outpace me.” A
scoff shoots up her throat, but I won’t let her downplay who she is. “Amelia,
you were born for this life. Embrace what makes you special.”

Without saying a word, she descends the ladder and we go
through the motions again and again. I instruct her where to place her hands
and when to use the most force to propel her body upward, applying the most
efficient pace, but she doesn’t believe me.

I shake my head at her. “Agility will be much easier for
you in the Dreamscape, especially since you won’t be physically present. What
you have to focus on now are the movements. Athletes in you world know this as
muscle memory. In the Dreamscape, such skill means survival. Each movement must
be second nature to you when we enter the other realm.” For all I know we will
be ambushed immediately, but I don’t want to worry her, so I leave that part
out. Erobos can still influence her. They can also steal part of her soul if
she allows them access.

“What is it like?” she asks, taking a step back from me and
lowering to the platform. Her legs dangle over the edge, the unhurried
movements of youth, reminding me how uncorrupted she truly is.

I focus on answering her, even though I would rather test
our limits. She let me touch her. What else will she allow me to do? I
straighten my shoulders and sit at a comfortable distance next to her. “The
Dreamscape changes constantly. It mostly comes from mortal dreams, while some
of the stable worlds, we call them sub-realms, are derived from imagination.
That only happens when the mortal has a strong presence. Even those worlds
shift from time to time when the creator changes or dies. The current terrain
of sub-realms reflects modern ideals. Every mortal dreamer adds to the
landscape of a sub-realm; therefore, you could walk into a 1950s café, or you
could just as easily end up on a spaceship.”

Her eyes widen, growing distant, as if she has already
transported. When she speaks, her voice is distant as well. “So anything is
possible.”

“In essence, yes.”

She studies her hands for a moment, then visibly swallows.
“Could I see Justine there?”

My heart squeezes in response to her question. She has lost
so much. “It is unlikely,” I tell her, even though I want to give her a
different answer. “I do not believe she had a broken soul when she passed.”

“Oh,” she says, shaking her head. “Okay. Good. Good to
know.” Her body hardens with her tone.

Taking a chance, I reach out and pull her hand into mine.
My pulse races when she allows this small contact. “I cannot bring back your
loved ones, Amelia, but I hope to one day be counted among those you trust.”

She nods and stands up. “What now?”

My mind takes a minute to catch up to her withdrawal. Even
though she is only a few feet away, the distance between us might as well be a
mile. Better to know where I stand. “You must be hungry,” I say to create a
diversion. “Perhaps we should break for lunch?”

“Seth?” she asks, her voice small.

I force my hands into my pockets to keep myself from
pulling her into my arms. “Hmm?”

“It’s not you. I just don’t do people very well.”

This is what I am counting on. I don’t want one of my
brothers to swoop in and steal her. Zed is mostly taken, but the other two are
still searching for a companion. “You just need to get to know me better.” I
give her a smile. “I promise to grow on you.”

She scrunches up her face. “What, like some kind of icky
mushroom? No thanks.”

I laugh, and she smiles. It is good to see her smile.

He’s getting to me. I keep telling myself he isn’t Jason,
but damned if he doesn’t act like him. This is just too weird. I mean, here I
am with this gorgeous guy, who is most definitely real, who is most definitely
into me, and I can’t even look him in the eyes.

As much as I’d like to explore possibilities with him, it
scares me to think of him at all, let alone to allow myself to hope where he is
concerned. People hurt me. I need to remember that. When I told him I wasn’t
good with people, I was being completely honest.
Friend
is the real F
word in my book. Although, it would be nice to allow myself to feel for once. I
just worry that I might not be able to feel for other people at all anymore.

Sure, he makes my heart spasm, but that might be just lust.
How can I know for sure that I have a real connection with Seth?

Jason was so kind to me. He made me feel hope when I didn’t
have any. Seth has an agenda, and I’m part of it. ‘Nough said.

Done with training for now, we walk side by side, silent.
I’m not exactly eager to go to his room, but it seems to be where he spends
most of his time.

Is he having trouble finding things to talk about too, safe
things that won’t unleash World War III on the world as I know it?

I hope so. All I need is to have him bring up our past. It
wasn’t real. He should know that, yet I doubt things are as clear cut for him.
I don’t even know if it’s that clear cut for me anymore. This
is
his
world we’re talking about, and I’m nothing but a stranger.

When we enter his shrine, my chest tightens. Every time I
see the pit lining the room, I’m reminded of how trapped I am. How can Seth
stand it?

Even just being entombed here as long as I have has left a
mark on me. Getting out of the creepy room for even the smallest amount of time
has helped my focus, but I have no idea if we’ll train more today. Worse, I
have no idea if he will lock me in my room again so he can traverse the
Dreamscape without me.

He opens my door and ushers me inside. Heavenly aromas
greet me, and only now does my hunger gnaw a hole in my stomach.

I don’t wait for him before I bypass his sofa and bound
over to the table. It’s set like a fancy restaurant with a crisp white table
cloth, glowing candles, and silky napkins. I’m already seated by the time he
reaches it. Giving him a sly smile, I dig in.

He frowns at me, but I don’t care. It’s not like I need his
permission to eat. I’m a big girl with the panties to prove it. Staring at him
while thinking about panties is just the wrong thing to do, so I look at my
meal instead. “Lasagna?” I ask, only afterward realizing how stupid I sound. Of
course it’s lasagna. What else would it be?

He chuckles. “Don’t you like it?”

I shrug. Whatever. It’s not like I care what he thinks
anyway. He’s a freak. My internal wimp asks me what that makes me, but I ignore
her and enjoy my food.

Seth’s dog peeks his head into the room and gives a good
whine that hurts my ears. Seth, having his back to the door, doesn’t turn
around. Instead, he motions for the dog to enter.

It’s a huge grayish thing. I think it might be a greyhound,
but I’m not too sure. I don’t think they usually come
that
shaggy. “What
kind of dog is he, anyway?”

“Baltek descends from a long line of royalty.” When I raise
my eyebrows at him, he gets to it. “He’s Irish Wolfhound.”

Shows what I know about dogs. All I know is this one is
big. I’ve tried to ignore him since I came here because I bet the thing would
be taller than me on its hind legs. Worse, I bet it could fit my entire head
into its mouth.

It might even be taller than Seth. One day I’m gonna find
out, but today is not that day. The thing glares at me as if he really is
thinking about eating my head.

Seth hands Baltek a slice of garlic bread, which gets
downed in two bites. Comforting.

The dog then turns its penetrating stare on me. We’re going
to have problems if he thinks he’s taking off with
my
food. I just
worked out for hours, while he warmed his lazy bones by the fire. My muscles
still burn. I wouldn’t be surprised if I can’t walk tomorrow. I stare him down
until a growl rises up its throat.

Would it be terrible if I growled back? I consider this for
a moment, then decide to steal a piece of bread from the basket to give him.

I hold it out, and he takes it gently into his mouth. Our
eyes lock again, and some kind of connection is formed. This weird sort of
warmth spreads from my chest into my fingertips.

I’ve never quite understood why people dote on their
animals, as if they’re their kids or something, but I’m beginning to get it.
I’m already thinking about handing him another piece just to see if the warmth
turns into something else, when the unthinkable happens.

He licks me. I stare, frozen solid from the contact.

I’ve never been licked by an animal. On the rare occasion I
even came across one, I gave it as wide a berth as I could.

I can’t help but laugh.

Baltek must take this as his sign to attack because one
minute I’m sitting upright and the next I’m on my back as he licks my face with
his gigantic tongue.

My stomach erupts in this strange jubilance that’s as
foreign to me as China, and pretty soon Seth’s laugh mixes with mine. Baltek
puts his whole effort into it and slimes my entire face. He manages to get my
arm before Seth calls him off me.

Seth kneels at my side and helps me up before he lifts the
chair onto its legs.

Now that the action is over, embarrassment climbs up my
neck. Not knowing what to do with my emotions, I avoid Seth’s searching stare
and excuse myself. I make it into the bathroom and lock the door behind me
before covering my heaving chest.

What the hell just happened?