The Dream Thief

by Leann M Rettell

  “Well you had a sort of seizure. After you’d settled, I looked through your phone and called Stephanie. She wasn’t happy to hear from me. Anyway, she told me to make you the syrup. Oh, and she said something weird. When I told her what happened, she said, ‘Not another one.’ or something like that.”

  “What the hell did she mean not another one? This hasn’t happened before. It’s only after a target, not at random, and never this fucking long. Except…” Visions of Caelieus in the bed popped into Malcolm’s head.

  Debbie didn’t postulate or ask him to clarify what he meant by “except.” The question was rhetorical, at least to Debbie. There was no way she would have an answer. He liked how she knew when to speak and when to let him stew in his own thoughts. She handed him his phone. Stephanie’s name was on the screen, and he hit call. Debbie slipped away to give him privacy as the phone rang.

  He stared at the ceiling of the Cayman listening to the ringing of the phone.

  “Hello?” Aelia said with tension behind the simple greeting.

  “It’s me.”

  She sighed on the other end of the line. “Thank god. Listen you’ve got to get here ASAP.”

  “Why?”

  “It would be better if you heard it in person.”

  “Try me.” He wasn’t backing down. “What happened to me?”

  After a pregnant pause, she said, “It’s the same thing that happened to Caelieus.”

  “What are you talking about? You said that he transported to Cos, not speaking, in pain and bleeding, and that was the first you’d heard of anything being wrong with him. Is that not true? Did you lie to us? To me? It can’t be the same thing as Caelieus. I didn’t transport.” He remembered the urge to transport but wanted to keep that to himself.

  “I didn’t lie. I omitted some things.”

  With ice coating his voice, he asked, “Like what?”

  “Prior to the transport, he suffered similar episodes to the one you had. They lasted a few hours. He had a headache for days, but otherwise, he was fine until the final transport here.”

  “Are you telling me I’m going to end up like Caelieus? What the fuck, Aelia? Have you lost your damn mind? You should have told us. Warned us.”

  “Would it have done any good?”

  His mouth opened and closed several times. He hated to admit it, but, no, it wouldn’t have done any damn good. “How long do I have?”

  “It started about two weeks before the transport.”

  “Have we found him yet?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck!” Malcolm balled his hand in a fist, aching to punch something, someone, anything. “What about the target? You know I can’t leave. What good will it do me to come back to Cos?”

  “I don’t know if it will do anything, but maybe Caelieus couldn’t snap out of it the last time because he transported during one the episodes. If you were already here, you wouldn’t have to. You have to leave. I’ll call in the team. She’ll have to be terminated. It’s the easiest answer.”

  “Hold on a goddamn minute. First of all, how do you know if I transport during one of those episodes, I’ll show up at Cos? Second, what you’re suggesting goes against everything that we stand for. We protect humanity! We don’t kill them! We were created to save humanity from itself. The easiest solution doesn’t make it the right one.”

  “Cut the philosophical bullshit, Gabriel! We have no idea who or why we were put on this planet. Maybe it isn’t to steal the dreams; maybe it’s to kill the target. The world would be better off without them!”

  What had happened to his friend? This wasn’t her. His thoughts drifted to an old target, the little girl Natalie. She would go on to win riding trophies, but in the grand scheme of the world, he knew how little that really meant, but he had prevented the deaths of those future people at the frat party. Surely that had to mean something. He tried to remember as many of his targets as possible. He couldn’t remember a single one that became crucial to human history. Were they supposed to kill the target instead of stealing their dreams? But stealing their dreams was the only way they knew what they were stopping. He said as much to Aelia.

  “Did you ever think, Gabriel, Malcolm, or whatever you’re calling yourself these days, that maybe we steal the dream to find that out. That it is for us. To help us understand why they need to be removed from history.”

  “But because they don’t go on to do something monumental doesn’t mean their lives are expendable. They matter to people, and none of my targets ever ended up hurting anyone.”

  Malcolm refused to believe their real job was to kill the targets. They stopped horrible timelines from occurring while not causing additional pain. They saved all lives, whether they would be guilty or not. “This is my target and my call. I’m staying here to fix this. If I end up like Caelieus, then that’s my fate. I still have two weeks. You owe me that.”

  “I don’t owe you a damn thing. I’m the Librarian. It isn’t your decision to make.”

  “If you send any of the others to eliminate the target before my two weeks is up, I’ll force regeneration on all of them no matter how many times it takes, and I will never cooperate with you again. You might be the Librarian, but you’re abusing your power. Someone needs to take over for you.” The pull of her power tickled at his senses, but the singularity bucked against it. The first time it had ever done that.

  “Don’t you fucking think I’d love for someone else to take over? But no, I’m stuck here.”

  “I feel sorry for you.” Why wasn’t someone else given the alarm to transport to Cos? Why was she still in power?

  “Why is that?”

  “Because you’ve, as they say today, lost your damn mind. Now I’m warning you, stay out of my way. Trust me. You don’t want me as your enemy.”

  20

  The bleeding stopped, but a headache lingered at the base of his neck and in between his shoulder blades. It wrapped around his head and temples, squeezing. An unsettled rumble fidgeted in his stomach making all that syrup gurgle deep down. He wondered, do I have a stomach? It wasn’t like any of them could leave a body behind, be autopsied, or get a CAT scan to know what was really inside them. He used to wonder if he had an additional spot, like a chakra, in his brain or chest that housed his power. If he did, the airport security X-rays certainly hadn’t picked it up. He had peeked once during a flight before security switched to millimeter wave scanners, mainly out of morbid curiosity. He had what looked like bones in all the right places. In normal males, the male parts show up like a shadow on an X-ray, called the Throckmorton sign. Thank goodness the attendants don’t pay close attention. Not that Malcolm expected them to check out people’s genitals.

  Malcolm still felt off. He wasn’t sure what had come over him. Each of the dream thieves had a natural pairing; Aelia was his. Their friendship and teamwork had survived centuries, but things changed when the industrial age allowed them to establish relationships outside of their small group and once airplanes allowed a quick return to a home. Perhaps she’d really gone crazy being the Librarian for so long. He prayed to whoever controlled the dream thieves to put someone else in that position—for all their sakes. An insane leader could jeopardize them all. He knew her. She wasn’t malicious. None of them were. Well maybe Lother, but a jackass was a jackass, no matter the century or species.

  He stretched his neck to ease the tension and forced himself out of the car. His legs wiggled as if the muscles had lost mass and could barely support the weight of his bones, much less his body. Blackness crept along the corners of his vision, but he managed to stay upright. Debbie retreated to the shadows. She watched him like a hawk, a worried expression etched on her face. He didn’t like it. As his carefree spirit, she always had a smile on her face and a quick taunt on her lips. The clock above his computer desk in the far corner of the garage read six a.m. Debbie’s eyes had visible dark circles despite the lack of light around them, and he’d bet all the cars in his collection that sh
e stood only by force of will. “Come on. Let’s get you upstairs. You need some sleep.”

  One eyebrow raised—a simple gesture that spoke volumes. He could almost hear her say: “Um excuse me. I need sleep? You look like the dead. If anyone needs sleep, it’s you, boss man.”

  With a snuffle of a laugh, he said, “Okay. We’ll both get some sleep.”

  “What about the store? We’re supposed to open in three hours.”

  “I’ll get up. You get some rest.”

  That eyebrow again, but she chose to articulate her meaning this time. “Are you freaking kidding me? You can’t be left alone. What if you have another of those spells? As for driving, well, that’s out of the question until we figure this thing out.”

  They stared at each other in an impasse. The darkness at the edges of his vision swirled inward, threatening, and Malcolm steadied himself. Debbie snuck an arm under his back and guided him to the elevator. She pressed the button to his floor after she entered the secret code he’d always used to go to his apartment.

  Neither spoke during the ride nor when they made it to the loft. He used the time to reply to Omar’s text.

  Debbie murmured, voice thick with fatigue, “What about the store?”

  “Closing for today. Tomorrow, Omar will start interviewing for a manager.”

  “I thought you sold it?”

  “One of my many aliases bought it,” he said with a sheepish smile.

  Debbie lips thinned, but she said nothing of his little deception.

  Without speaking of it, they entered the bedroom, each picking a side, and laid down, as if this wasn’t a first and they had been doing this for years.

  Debbie made a soft noise, already drifting off to sleep. He didn’t have the heart to tell her she had an interview at Avient Pharmaceuticals with Dharma Knight late that afternoon. He rolled to snuggle beside her, kissed the back of her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, and fell into a blackened void absent of any alarms.

  Malcolm woke just after noon. His body protested and fought him. It was like dragging himself through barbed wire. He wanted nothing more than to stay in bed curled against Debbie, but he knew things needed doing, things his subconscious woke him up for like an annoying alarm clock across the room with no snooze button. Through heavy, weighed-down eyelids, he managed to arrive to a semi-conscious state. He noted a massive migraine first thing. A monster could have been kicking him in the head the whole time he slept. The pain was nothing compared to before, but his stomach still rolled with nausea. Moving like the million-year-old man he was, he inched his way downstairs, thankful he hadn’t packed up his prized espresso maker yet. He made himself a massive cup, filling it to the top, and added heaping amounts of sugar. The caffeine settled the pissed-off woodpecker inside his skull. After a second mountain of a cup, he felt human again, or normal anyway.

  Seeing the time, he moved into super speed. He zipped through his loft like a blur, finishing packing in mere minutes. He could’ve done it yesterday, but he wanted to spend time with Debbie. Besides, he loved moving at human speed. While this ability had definitely come in handy on more than one occasion, he didn’t relish a glaring reminder of his differentness, and he avoided facing that in his everyday life as much as possible.

  With great sadness, he packed up his beloved espresso maker and placed it in the boring sedan. He left the rest of the boxes for the moving company. They were due in less than thirty minutes. He skidded to a stop by the kitchen. Debbie stopped wide-eyed with mouth agape. She gasped when he stopped. Her eyes had moved in quick back-and-forth succession while her brain tried to interpret seeing Malcolm move that way. The dizziness kicked in right away. Malcolm had done it enough to know humans’ reactions to him. The look of revulsion and fear most people got after the dizziness subsided was thankfully missing. People didn’t like to have their realities questioned. Sometimes they reacted violently, and others went mad. But the majority got dizzy then would shake their heads, come up with a simple lie to explain it away, and pretend as if it had never happened.

  Debbie did none of that, other than the natural physical response. A smile came to her lips, as easy as it always had, before a smug look appeared. “You could have saved me a cup of espresso before you packed it all away.” She crossed her hands over her chest and looked up and away as if disgusted.

  “Sorry babe. Movers are coming, and, uh.”

  “Uh, what?” Her head snapped down, eyes narrowed, not missing his attempt at being nonchalant and calling him on it.

  “We have to go shopping or to your place, but probably shopping.”

  “Why?” Eyes narrowing so tightly he wasn’t sure how she could see.

  “You have an interview this afternoon, and you’ll need a business suit.”

  He may as well have suggested she wear a bikini for the look she gave him. Debbie and business clothes were two words that didn’t go together.

  “You never said anything about wearing a business suit or an interview.” Ice laced her words.

  “I didn’t find out until this morning, and you had already fallen asleep. The suit is for today only.” He hoped the lie would appease her anyway. She’d never have been able to rest if she’d known earlier.

  Debbie’s shoulders relaxed, but her lips remained pursed. “Oh, well, okay then.”

  “After you get the job, it’ll be business casual.”

  Her gaze snapped to his. “Malcolm Jones, you and I are going to fight.”

  “Fate of the world, darling.” Surely business casual was worth that.

  She huffed, throwing her hands in the air, and turned on the ball of her foot. “Sure, throw that trump card out. Freaking peachy.” He couldn’t help but laugh under his breath.

  A few hours later, Malcolm and Debbie sat outside Avient Pharmaceuticals after the adventurous excursion shopping for a suit. Debbie’s less than thrilled expression worsened with every piece she tried on. She was no fashionista, but that experience had been something else. She hated everything. Everything! As he had expected, nothing that she owned would be appropriate for an interview at Avient Pharmaceuticals. Now seated in the driver’s seat, still unwilling to let him drive, she looked very professional, if unhappy, in a black pants suit with purple stripes. She gave in on the suit when he agreed she could wear the flamboyant purple flowered button-up blouse underneath, but she flat out refused heels, saying she would break her neck, and decided upon purple wedges instead. She kept her hair long and cascading down her back with a purple scarf tied around her head. He thought she would start throwing things at him when he told her she couldn’t wear her usual over the top amethyst jewelry, but he’d simmered her down by using his get-out-of-jail-free card, or in his case, the this-is-to-save-the-world card. She said he couldn’t keep using it, but he would as long as he had to or until it quit working, whichever came first.

  “Okay, I’m meeting Dr. Nicholas Cole and then Dr. Dharma Knight.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re lucky I graduated with a minor in business.”

  He chuckled. “In more ways than one.”

  She glared at him, unsure of herself for probably the first time ever.

  He leaned in and kissed her. “You’re going to do great, and you look beautiful. No, you really do.” He answered her scowl. “I’m not just saying that.”

  “Fine. I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I mean it. No driving!” She slipped out of the car and walked in those wedges like a pro, head held high, ready to take on the world. He laughed under his breath, knowing she hated every minute of this. Despite everything, Debbie wasn’t doing this to save the world. She was doing it for him.

  The mirth fell away and was replaced by a growing sense of despair. The alarm in his chest, which he used to think of as gentle, now ticked like a time bomb, with not only the world’s fate tied to it, but his fate as well. Visions of Caelieus on Aelia’s bed, writhing in pain and wasting
away, and the fact that he was missing came back to Malcolm. Would he share the same fate? Knowing how useless he’d become and how powerless he was stung. Having to drag Debbie into this drove the nails of failure in a little deeper. Maybe it would be easier to eliminate the target?

  Battling urges raged in his mind like two beasts snarling and snapping. Their fight left his mouth in an audible hiss. One was winning, but he couldn’t tell who until the car door opened and one foot hit the pavement. He was ready to put an end to Dr. Knight. His cell rang, halting his progress. He fetched the little black gadget from his pocket with the car door still open.

  “Obadiah?”

  “Gabriel,” Obadiah replied on the other end of the line.

  “Why is it that you refuse to use our new names?”

  A chuckle. “My dear Gabriel. I use our real names for many reasons. You know that.”

  Obadiah called everyone by their ancient names. He was also the only one to keep his in every new identity. Malcolm thought the move a stupid one, but Obadiah had his reasons.

  “I know, but I have never understood your logic. Enlighten me one more time. Perhaps this is the moment it’ll click.”

  The raging monsters of indecision stilled at Obadiah’s call, perhaps only because of Obadiah, the purest of them all, that the monsters were lured back to sleep.

  “For you, anything, my dear brother. I use our true names because they are true. We are surrounded by lies, and having one truth among them is soothing to my soul.”

  “I see you still believe we have a soul.”

  “Why wouldn’t we, brother?” Obadiah took the bait. He loved to discuss his theories of their origins, unlike the rest of them. Malcolm typically never bothered. They could speculate until blue in the face, but they never would get a straight answer.

  “Because only humans have souls. Without a soul when they die, they would vanish into oblivion, or go to hell, but with them, they can redeem themselves and go on to live for eternity in heaven, as the Christians say. Or shall we pick a different religion? Either way, only mortals have souls. We on the other hand never die. Therefore, we don’t need a soul because we already live forever.”