Sweet Dreams
Page 7
Jerrek snorts. “I don’t think you two are going to have a problem.”
“Right,” Reve says. “So hurry up and get together so we can go find our mates. I tire of doing surveillance on my mate and not being able to go to her side.”
I want to ask what he means about surveillance, but I don’t even know where to start.
“You’re confusing her,” Lorien says. “The two of you can leave us alone to talk.”
“No,” I say, folding my arms. “You stay, they stay.”
“What?” Lorien’s mouth falls open, and he struggles to recover. “This is your thanks for saving you? You don’t trust me?”
It’s more like I don’t trust myself not to be all over him if we’re alone again, but I’m not going to tell him that.
“You can stay because I owe you one for helping me, Lorien. But for no other reason than that. I told you I’m not looking for a man. I don’t believe in love—”
Reve and Jerrek gasp in unison, and Jerrek’s hand is on his chest again. “She said it. She really said it.”
Reve steps forward in front of a shaken Jerrek. “Love is the most incredible power in the universe. Love—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” I turn to the kitchen and realize my fingers aren’t shaking anymore after the assault. There’s a warm, calm, peaceful feeling in the air around these “warriors,” and the air smells faintly of sugar cookies.
“Has that, I mean what happened…” Jerrek looks awkward but determined to push forward anyway. “That hasn’t happened before, has—”
Lorien puts a hand over Jerrek’s mouth. “Excuse my friend’s rudeness.” He lowers his hand, and Jerrek puts up both hands in surrender, taking a step back. “I think what he’s asking is how often warriors commit such acts.”
I give him a glare. “Why on earth would you ask that?”
“I’m sorry if it’s rude,” Reve says. “I just thought that maybe Lorien would feel better if we could assure him that he saw an anomaly of an event.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s pretty common. Attempts at least. Most women don’t walk at night because of it.”
Gasps all around, and Jerrek looks about ready to faint.
“They’d be killed in the dream realm,” Reve says darkly.
Jerrek shakes his head. “No. Death is a forbidden punishment. Only the highest fae can administer it.”
“What’s this punishment thing anyway?” I ask. “You guys said Lorien had to go punish those guys, and—”
“That’s right,” Reve says. “Lorien, you should use your dream link to file an immediate report.”
Lorien makes a face I’ve never seen before. Something like guilt. Or shame. “I… My dream link broke.”
Jerrek and Reve stare at him as though both of his eyeballs just fell out.
“But that means you can’t return to the dream realm. Not without them sending help,” Reve says.
Lorien shrugs. “My mate is here. Why should I return?”
“Lorien, the punishment…” Jerrek says nervously. “What did you—”
“Only the usual,” Lorien says. “But my dream link no longer works.”
“They did warn us that our dream links might not work here, or they could break,” Reve says, looking at a small timepiece on his wrist I hadn’t noticed before. “Mine’s still working.”
“Mine too,” Jerrek says, checking his. He goes over to Lorien. “Let me see.”
But Lorien jerks his hand away. “No. I need to be alone with my mate. I need all of you to go, and I don’t need to have my dream link.” He faces me, hands in fists at his sides, not in threat but in frustration. “I need to help her understand that she needs me.”
“I don’t,” I say, shaking my head. “Though, I admit I was careless earlier. I didn’t expect a gun. I’ll be safer from now on.”
“Safer in what?” Jerrek asks. “What were you doing out there?”
I rub the back of my neck. “I, uh, I help women get money back from men who scam them. Or I, um, teach a lesson to those who hurt them.” I sigh. “Now that I think about it, it isn’t the greatest profession.”
But it does make the pain go away.
Reve snorts. “She’s dealing punishment. Perhaps she’s a dream fae after all.”
“She is,” Lorien says firmly.
“Then explain her hair,” Jerrek says.
Lorien sighs. “I can’t. I can’t explain any of this. But she’s half of my heart, and I would die for her. And all I want is to be alone with her right now.”
Jerrek and Reve look at me, and I can tell they want to follow Lorien’s commands.
“Okay, can you guys all be normal for a second? I need to call over my friends if you all are going to stay here.” No way I’m staying here with three strange men on my own.
But Lorien is standing there stubbornly, refusing to leave me, and it touches my heart in a deep, lonely place I don’t dare to examine.
So I’m not going to throw him out.
Instead, I’m going to call Jen and Sandy.
“Fine,” Lorien says. “Call whoever you need to. But the longer I’m in your home, dream mate, the more you’re going to wish you and I were alone.”
Then he turns to his friends to talk as I head to the bedroom, pulling out my phone.
I wonder if my friends will notice anything weird when they show up.
8
Tess
The dream fae are enjoying wine on my broken couch together, squished in and sprawled comfortably over each other in a pile of bodies, as we wait for my friends to show up.
“You guys are really comfortable with each other,” I say, not jealous at all as I slant a look at Jerrek who has his arm casually around Lorien’s shoulder. Lorien’s legs are sprawled carelessly with one hanging over Reve who is leaning into the pack of arms and legs that is the dream fae right now.
“Of course,” Reve says. “As warriors and friends, we have formed strong bonds.”
I really wanted to think this was all a dream, but no dream would be this detached from reality.
I have three fairies in my dirty living room, cuddling on the couch and watching a chick flick and commenting in ways I never expected about the onscreen romance.
“Fail!” Jerrek says, shaking his head at the screen and lobbing a piece of popcorn at it. “You don’t just walk away when she says she’s ‘fine,’ you fool. Fight for your love!”
“Human men are weak,” Reve says, waving a hand to bring the popcorn kernel back so he can toss it in the small trash can by the couch.
“You really need to see the dream realm,” Jerrek says. “It’s so beautiful compared to this place.” He eyes my faded orange and brown carpet. “Are you sure you don’t want us to make it better while we’re here?”
I shake my head. “It’s a rental. I’ll lose my deposit.”
“Deposit?”
“You know, so that if I damage the place and take off, the apartment owners aren’t left holding the bag.”
Lorien’s mouth turns up at the corner in a sneer. “The human world is really something else.”
“Why?”
He looks at me. “Everyone seems to have to plan for everyone else having a total lack of morality.”
“Or perhaps there are really just a few nightmares making things bad for everyone,” Jerrek says.
“Nightmares?” I ask, but Reve sends a shushing look to his friend.
“The empty ones,” Lorien says. “They walk among those with bonds, but they are incapable of forming them. They seek only to use, to hurt, or to defile. But they must hide their nature because they fear destruction.”
There’s a knock on the door then, and I’m almost regretful we don’t get to talk more about whatever these “nightmares” are.
I walk to the door, warning all the fae with a look to behave. They look mostly normal except for their extreme height, beauty, and fascinating eyes. Maybe my friends won’t notice anything.
&
nbsp; Yeah, right.
Sandra is talking to Jen about one of her dates already as I open the door, and they both stop and look up at me with glowing smiles despite the outdoor cold.
God, I love my friends.
“Hey, girl,” Sandra says, walking forward and enveloping me in a warm, soft hug. Sandra is 5’10” and an unapologetically curvaceous Amazon of a woman with gorgeous dark skin and eyes that sparkle like obsidian and a heart of pure gold. Jen’s pale as a ghost with freckles smattered across her cheeks. She’s even curvier than Sandra, and her warm, soft smile never fails to cheer me up.
I’d jump into a flooded river next to a dam for either of these women.
Jen joins the hug for a moment, comparably tiny to both of us. When we pull apart, Jen looks up at me curiously. She’s wearing a blue sweater under a black wool coat, and her brown eyes sparkle.
“So you called us here why?” Jen asks.
There are tiny snowflakes in Sandra’s curly pixie cut. She often wears a gorgeous weave or wig, but I love whenever I get to see her short, natural curls.
“I mean, not that I mind because I always welcome a chance to see you, but yeah. It’s a little unexpected,” Sandra says.
I open the door wider. “Okay. I have some weird visitors. It’s hard to explain, but I just wanted you two here with me until I figure out what to do.”
“Robbers?” Jen pushes the sleeves of her coat and charges forward through the doorway, looking like a tiny avenger before Sandra catches her by the hood of her coat.
“I don’t think so, half-pint,” Sandra says, moving in front of her. “I’ll check this out.”
Jen looks like an angry marshmallow but concedes.
“They’re not robbers,” I say. “They’re just… just…”
“Gorgeous,” Sandra says, stopping abruptly as she enters the living room and sees the fae on the couch. She puts a hand to her mouth, speechless.
“Wait, let me see,” Jen says, pushing in after us. “You two are too protective, and—”
She freezes next to Sandra, and the room is totally silent.
But the biggest surprise for me is the look on Reve’s and Jerrek’s faces, wide-eyed and pale as if both of their hearts have stopped.
Then, before I can even blink properly, they both untangle themselves almost instantly and jump behind the couch, leaving Lorien on his side, staring at us awkwardly.
“Weren’t there just three of them?” Sandra is staring straight forward, more shocked than I’ve ever seen her. “Where did the other two go?” This is the woman who saw a homeless man bathe in his own pee and just shrugged and left money anyway.
Lorien looks at me questioningly as if asking what I want him to do. His aurora eyes move from Sandra to Jen, then back to me where they warm slightly. Damn, that sends a tingle down to my toes.
“Um, Sandra, Jen, this is Lorien, my…”
Lorien stares at me.
“My…”
Lorien blinks at me.
“My friend.” I finish lamely.
Lorien frowns.
“Oh,” Sandra says, moving forward to put out a hand. “Uh, nice to meet you.” Lorien looks at her hand, then grabs it and turns it over. “Interesting.”
“No, you’re supposed to shake it,” I mutter, but as Lorien starts wiggling her hand, I give up and break them gently apart.
“He’s not from around here.”
“I guess not,” Sandra says, winking at me as she gives him a long leer. “Where have you been hiding him?”
I hear a hiss from behind the couch and decide to usher Sandra and Jen to my room to talk before the fae can get into more trouble.
“Lorien, stay here,” I say. “I’m just going to go talk to my friends, get them caught up.”
But what am I going to tell them? With curious looks, they follow me down the hallway, and when I flick on the light to my bedroom, Sandra frowns at the state of the space.
“Girl, you know I said I could come help you clean up.”
“Nah,” I say, swiping aside a pile of garbage. It’s just papers and books, not food trash in here. I don’t even know why she’s complaining. You can still see most of the floor.
Jen steps gingerly around a stack of papers that has already been knocked over. “So research?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
Jen puts a hand to her head. “Sandy, how are we going to make her stop?” She puts her small, pale hands on her hips. “You’re going to get in trouble.”
I rub the back of my neck as Sandy and Jen take off their coats and set them over a chair before coming over to sit on the bed with me.
No matter how my life is going or how messed up I am, my friends always accept me. And no matter what, I always accept them. It’s been like that since college.
“About that,” I say, getting off the bed to pace in front of it. “I did sort of get in trouble the other day. I guess the manosphere got wind of me.”
“Manosphere?” Jen asks.
“You know, all the pickup blogs that teach men to fake wanting commitment and shit to get sex from women.” Sandra shakes her head. “As a divorce lawyer, I really don’t get why most women want to commit anyway. It’s so clear in settlement that men expect women to stay home as slaves and then never expect to share in the money earned. Either that or the man sits on his ass and—”
“Sandy,” Jen says gently. “Not the time for a man rant.”
“Right,” Sandra says, exhaling in a rush. “Right. So what happened?”
I feel my cheeks flush. “I won’t really go into detail, but let’s just say I was in a tough spot.”
Jen sighs. “This is why—”
“Not the time for a mom rant, Jen,” Sandra says.
Jen nods. “You’re right. But someone has to say something. She’s living like a teenager.”
“I am not,” I say.
“You are,” Jen says. “You’re taking risks, living moment to moment—”
“I know how I live. I also do graphic design,” I say, looking at Sandra.
Sandra nods. “I think what Jen is saying is that you worry about everyone but you. The people you help. The women you think need you to make things right. Meanwhile, your life…” Sandra looks around the room, then at me with a meaningful expression.
“I like my life, and anyway, we aren’t here to talk about me.”
“Right,” Jen says. “We’re here to talk about that hottie in the other room. So he got you out of trouble?”
“Sort of,” I say, too embarrassed to admit how much he helped. “But here’s the thing. He has nowhere to stay—”
“No!” Jen says, stomping her small foot. “I draw the line at bringing weird men into your house just because they are homeless.”
I blink. “He’s not homeless, exactly…” I let out a breath. “Guys. He’s special. Like us.”
There’s silence for a moment as we all stare at each other. We met in college at a paranormal club. At first, we all pretended to be like everyone else, simply interested in the supernatural. But it didn’t take long to feel a kinship to one another, and before I knew it, we were sharing all the things that make us “weird.”
“How so? Strong like you?” Sandra asks carefully. She’s the most thoughtful of all of us, able to consider anything logically no matter how illogical it may appear on the surface.
“Uh…” I stare at both my friends and realize how much I need them at the moment. There are fairies in my house. I need my friends’ help and understanding if I’m going to stay sane through this. “So… it turns out paranormals do exist.”
“We know,” Sandra says, rolling her eyes slightly. “I mean, we know that maybe humans have enhanced abilities that can’t be explained through normal genetics.”
“No,” I say. “They aren’t from here. They aren’t genetically normal.”
“Who?” Sandra asks.
This is it, the moment my friends finally decide I’m crazy.
“The fair
ies.”
There’s silence except for Jen swallowing awkwardly. She looks at Sandra who looks back at her with panicked eyes that say, I don’t know what to do with her either. She’s finally gone mad.
“That guy out there,” I say. “He’s a fairy. There are three of them.” I mean, I was going to try to pass them off as normal guys, but after the hand-shaking incident, I don’t really think I’ll get away with saying they’re just normal humans for long.
“Ah,” Jen says as if carefully coddling a clearly crazy person. “Fairies. Right. Three of them.”
“There were three,” I say. “Two disappeared when you walked in.”
“I did think I saw three,” Sandra says.
“How did they disappear that fast?” Jen asks.
“They have magic powers…um…” I trail off uncertainly. I can’t really explain why Reve and Jerrek jumped behind the couch at lightning speed.
“Riiiight,” Jen says, looking at me like I put underwear on my head and declared myself queen of England. “They have magic powers. Sure.”
“Look, did you get hit on the head?” Sandra asks. “Maybe that guy just took advantage of your confusion.”
“No, I didn’t get hit on the head!” I say. “I just—ugh. Look, we can just go talk to them. I’m sure I can pull the other two out.”
“Okay… so the guy on the couch is a fairy, right?” Jen asks.
“Right,” I say.
“Then why is he here?”
I suck in a breath, ignoring the rush of panic that comes when I realize how stupid what I’m about to say will sound. “He claims he’s here to love me.”
The flat look both of them give me says everything.
So I might as well get as much as possible out before they drag me off to be committed. “He says he left his world because he saw me in a dream or something. And that he trained from a young age to win me over and that… that I’m his dream mate… or something.”
Both are still looking at me warily and seem on the verge of scooting back. Like the crazy is spreading.
“Okay, I think we need a vacation,” Sandra says, getting off the bed and coming up to put an arm through mine. “You need to relax. And as gorgeous as that guy is, probably some male stripper or something, we need to kick him out. He’s lying to you, girl.”