Deadly Dreams (Fortuna Sworn Book 3)

by K. J. Sutton

  The four of us walked the rest of the way home, my hand resting on top of Matthew’s small hat.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I fell asleep around midnight.

  I fought it. Oh, how I fought it—even now, days after fighting Oliver’s shadow, I was wary of the dreamscape. But I’d already missed a night of sleep that week, and despite the cup of coffee I consumed as everyone else went to bed, I drifted off right there on the couch, still surrounded by books I’d had Lyari bring from Collith’s library in hopes of finding a trail to Creiddylad. The sounds of the TV faded to nothing.

  The next sound I heard was running water, but it definitely wasn’t the sea. Had Oliver planned another surprise? I opened my eyes expecting to see meadow and open sky. Instead, I found myself surrounded by a moonlit garden. The air was warm and smelled like roses. The water I’d heard came from a fountain, which trickled nearby. A house loomed overhead, and its bright lights cast squares onto the ground. There was something familiar about it. My brows knit together as I stared up at one of the windows. It triggered a memory, and I saw myself standing on the other side of the glass.

  This was Collith’s home. I’d been here once before, in another dream. Still frowning, I turned around, and the skirt of my filmy dress flared from the movement.

  I froze when I saw the house’s owner.

  He stood in the middle of the cobblestone path, looking heartbreakingly beautiful in a white shirt and a black tie. His brown hair was artfully tousled. In his hazel eyes, I saw the old Collith. The one who played Connect Four, the one who went on coffee dates, the one who danced. I hadn’t realized how badly I missed him until this moment.

  “But I’m asleep,” I blurted, my heart picking up speed, though I wasn’t sure why. “We’re not mated anymore. You can’t… you shouldn’t be able to…”

  A faint smile curved his lips. The sight of it made me stare at him like some lovesick teenager. “Being King of the Unseelie Court has a few advantages. For instance, I’ve made connections. Friends. Some of whom can do spells,” Collith added.

  Now my mouth ran dry as hope was replaced by fear. “You spoke to a witch? Collith, what if this friend tells someone where you are? You can’t be their king right now, not until you’re—”

  “She won’t betray me. There are good people in the world, Fortuna.” I opened my mouth, about to argue, but he shook his head. “Can we just let it rest tonight? Please?”

  The sound of the trickling fountain floated between us. I looked at him for another moment, searched his weary expression, then started walking down the path. My heels made soft sounds on the stones. “This is a beautiful garden,” I remarked. “Did you do all this?”

  “I did.” Collith fell into step beside me, adjusting his long strides to match mine. I’d never considered myself short, but next to him, it felt that way. “My mother taught me how—it was something we used to do together. But I can’t be here as much as I’d like to, so I had to hire a gardener to take care of it while I’m away.”

  My gaze roamed over the flowers and hedges. It must’ve been summertime in this dream, because everything was in bloom. There was a wide variety of colors nestled amongst the soil and leaves. Pink, yellow, red. “How is she?” Collith asked suddenly, making my gaze snap back to him.

  “Your mother?” I clarified. He nodded. I stopped walking and turned toward him. I’d been dreading this moment, but he needed to know the truth. I said the words knowing they would bring him pain. “She’s dying, Collith. I don’t think she has a lot of time left. Maybe we should reconsider trying to sneak you in. We’ll disable the cameras and—”

  “No.” His eyes had gone dark again. “She can’t see me like this, Fortuna. I’m not ready.”

  “But if you wait until you feel ready, it may be too late.”

  “She can’t see me like this,” he repeated. The words were cold and clipped, and I tried not to glare at him. The last time Collith had used that voice with me, he’d been sitting on his throne, watching Death Bringer beat with me a cat o’nine tails.

  Once again, I fixed my attention on the flowers. I walked farther down the path. Collith’s shoes didn’t make a sound, and I glanced back to make sure he’d followed.

  “This one is my favorite, I think,” I decided, pinching a petal between my thumb and forefinger. The flower had a red center and yellow fringes. I knew it wasn’t real, in the literal sense, but Collith had created this dream from a memory. At some point, this flower had really existed. I was still holding it as I turned to look at him. “Do you ever think about a life you don’t have to hire someone? A life that lets you tend your own damn garden?”

  “Of course I do. But I try not to dwell on it—that’s not a life within my reach.” He held out his hand, and I knew what he was going to say before the words left his mouth. “Dance with me, Fortuna.”

  “What is it with you and waltzing?” I asked, shaking my head. I was smiling as I said it. I reached for his hand without hesitation.

  We moved through the steps as though we’d done them a hundred times before. Maybe we had. Dreams were such slippery things—if you didn’t hold on tight, they’d slip right from your grasp. Maybe Collith and I had danced together more times than I could count, and I just didn’t remember those nights. Following a faint, gentle instinct, I learned forward and rested my cheek on his chest. His arms tightened, and in that moment, I had never felt safer.

  “Why did you do this?” I asked.

  Collith’s voice floated down to me. “You haven’t been sleeping. You’re always there when I have a bad dream, so I thought I’d return the favor.”

  At this, I pulled away to look at him, and we stopped dancing. Collith met my gaze without flinching. His scar was more pronounced because of the shadows cast by the in-ground lighting. Before I could say anything else, he spun me, then slowly drew me back to him.

  Maybe being in a dream made it easier to take chances—I felt a quake of fear at the thought of what I was about to do next, but it was the good kind of fear. I hadn’t felt that in a long time. Keeping my eyes on Collith’s, I moved even closer. My breasts brushed against his chest. I stared up at him, acutely aware of the places where our bodies touched. He was affected, as well, but it was obvious he was trying to fight it. I caught myself staring at his mouth, and suddenly I wanted to try kissing it again.

  A long-silenced drum started to beat between my legs, but instead of excitement, I felt the familiar stirrings of frustration. Even before we’d both been damaged beyond repair, Collith had denied me at every opportunity. “Why won’t you fuck me?” I asked bluntly, raising my gaze back to his.

  He matched my directness. “Because the first time we have sex, Fortuna, I don’t want to fuck you.”

  “If you say you want to ‘make love’ to me, I swear to God…” I stepped away and dropped my hands, glaring at him. “Are you serious? That’s why you’ve been holding back?”

  “No. Not the only reason.” His focus was unwavering, and as the seconds ticked past, I realized what his other reason was. It was like a thorn, piercing into both of us every time we reached for each other. The question I’d refused to answer for weeks. What happened?

  “So, what, as soon as I open up to you, you’ll open your legs for me?” I joked weakly, looking away.

  “Something like that.” In my peripheral vision, I saw Collith rub the back of his neck. “I’ve tried to give you time, Fortuna, but you haven’t—”

  I interrupted him with an incredulous laugh. “Hold on. You’ve been trying to give me time?”

  “This isn’t something you can just ignore. Having sex with me won’t make it go away, either.”

  For once, I didn’t have an immediate retort, but I didn’t feel the urge to run either. I did find it darkly ironic that we’d spent the past month in hiding because we thought it was what the other person wanted. As the silence wrapped around us, I imagined giving Collith what he’d been asking for these past few weeks. Telling him
the truth about the night I drove to that crossroads. Panic fluttered in my stomach. “You don’t have a right to my secrets, you know. We’re not mated anymore,” I said.

  “So you keep reminding me,” he retorted, raking his hair back. That single lock flopped back down. “And I do have a right.”

  My eyebrows shot upward. “Oh? You do? Let’s hear it, Collith. What could possibly make you think that—”

  “Because you did it to save me,” he roared.

  “Wow. Someone should alert the astronauts, because I’m pretty sure they could see your ego from fucking space.” Completely unafraid, despite the depth of fury I’d just glimpsed, I glared at Collith through a sheen of tears. “Did it ever occur to you that I brought you back to save myself? How was I supposed to live with what I’d done? How could I go on like a normal person when I’d murdered you?”

  The inferno within his eyes dimmed and Collith sighed. “We’re back to this? You pretending you don’t feel anything for me?”

  As quickly as he deflated, so did I. I’d done enough fighting for one lifetime, and I was so tired. “No. No, we’re not. But can we just call a truce for right now?”

  “Yes, we can call a truce.” He sounded as drained as I felt.

  I was about to suggest that we go inside when Collith walked toward the fountain. There were four benches around it, and he sat on the one facing the house. Slowly, I sank down beside him. After a moment, the Unseelie King put his arm around my shoulders and I tucked my head in the curve of his neck. It frightened me, a little, how natural the movement felt.

  It would’ve been easy to fall asleep to the sounds of the fountain and warm, perfumed breezes slipping past, but I held onto consciousness. I stared up at the stars as if the constellations would start moving, like the ones in Oliver’s world.

  Thinking of him hurt. He would be wondering where I was, and here I sat, feeling glimmers of happiness with someone else. “Collith?” I asked at the same moment I found the Big Dipper.

  I felt his response float through my bones. “Yes?”

  “Will you promise me something?” My throat was a desert. I swallowed and said, “Don’t give up on me, okay?”

  “Never.”

  I shivered from the raw emotion in Collith’s voice. He didn’t pause to think about it, not even for a second. I tilted my head to peer up at his face. For the millionth time, I caught myself admiring those long lashes, the jagged scar, the defined jawline. “Do we still have time? In this dream, I mean?” I asked now, tracing his lips with the tip of my finger.

  I was still tracing them as Collith said, “Plenty.”

  “Good. I’d like to make out with you, if that’s okay. Or try to. I can’t make any promises, but that’s never stopped you before, right?”

  His eyes lit with a soft glow. Before I could take another breath, that wicked mouth came down to claim mine. I kissed him back, burying my fingers in his soft curls.

  The constellations above us shone on, entirely forgotten.

  It was snowing again by the time I got to Bea’s.

  An entire day had come and gone, and now the sky overhead was black. I parked my van on Main Street, still fighting the temptation to cancel on Ariel, who’d texted me to follow up on her invitation to get drinks. I’d been in such a good mood—and so desperate to avoid the fact I hadn’t found Creiddylad—that I had agreed.

  As I turned the key, I reminded myself that I couldn’t cancel. I’d managed to sneak away from Lyari and Finn, and after tonight, it was a safe bet I wouldn’t be able to again. I stared up at the sign for Bea’s and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. It felt like there was a riot happening in my heart. Why did the thought of actually enjoying myself cause so much turmoil?

  Because you don’t deserve it, a voice whispered.

  In another lifetime, I would have a retort ready. I wouldn’t allow anything, not even the voice in my own head, to shame me.

  Now, though, I picked up my phone and found Ariel’s name in my contacts list. It rang once, then her cheery voice filled my ear. “Bitch, you better be calling me from your car,” she said.

  I kept my eyes on that neon-bright sign and tried to sound normal. “Look, I don’t think—”

  “That was your first mistake. Tonight isn’t about thinking,” she informed me. Before I could respond, a song blared through the speaker. I winced and held the phone away from my ear. Even from the street, it was obviously Lynyrd Skynyrd. The human said something else, but I couldn’t make out the words. She hung up a moment later.

  Guess that settles it. I heaved a sigh, pocketed my phone, and got out of the van.

  The night was in a somber mood, not a ray of moonlight anywhere. I tried not to see this as an omen, and I hurried inside to avoid more second thoughts. A burst of warmth and sound hit me—Fridays and Saturdays were always the busiest nights of the week. All the tables and booths were full, every bar stool occupied. Angela rushed past, balancing food-laden trays on her palms. Cyrus was visible through the order window, his bright mane tucked beneath a hairnet. As always, he was bent over the stove, and steam rose toward his concentrated expression. Diablo was here, as well, busing one of the tables. His scrawny arms struggled to hold the tub, which was dangerously full of plates and glasses.

  I lingered near the doorway, loosening my scarf. I scanned the room and noted that Phil stood behind the bar. He was middle-aged, married, and had five children at home. When he wasn’t here, he was also a bus driver and an employee at the local lumber company. As I removed my coat, he finally noticed me. His beard split into a welcoming smile. “Need a drink, Fortuna?” he called.

  The sound of my name made more than one person turn, including Ariel, who was standing next to a booth. At the sight of her, my eyebrows shot upward. She wore a black dress—if it could be called such—that clung to every curve. As she closed the space between us, I let out a low whistle. “Damn, girl. Who knew you had an ass?”

  She jiggled it at me, then turned to the burly bartender. Her dark curls bounced with every movement. “Phil, may we get two shots of tequila?”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. I watched Phil set the glasses on the bar, thinking of all the reasons why drinking was a bad idea. I was Queen of the Unseelie Court. There was an ancient faerie planning to kill me. Hell, there were probably a hundred faeries planning to kill me. I needed to stay alert and ready.

  Once Phil finished pouring, Ariel held her shot between two fingers and raised it into the air, her red nails gleaming. I didn’t move. As if she knew what I was thinking, the girl gave me a look. “Did you know I used to be a psych major?” she asked, nodding at the shot still on the bar.

  I sighed and picked it up. “No, but I have a feeling it’s about to become relevant.”

  Ariel tossed her shot back and set the glass back down. She signaled to Phil that she wanted another. “Before I dropped out, I learned that stress can kill brain cells and even reduce the size of your mind. Then there’s chronic stress, which can have a shrinking effect on the prefrontal cortex. Which is bad.”

  “What’s your point, exactly? That if I don’t let loose tonight, my brain is going to shrivel and die?” I asked dryly.

  Ariel shrugged her slender shoulders. “You said it, not me.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but Angela rushed up to the bar. Her frizzy hair was secured at the top of her head with a pen. “Phil, can I get a gin and tonic?” she asked, sounding harassed.

  “Hey, Angela,” I said as the bartender turned away.

  The human barely spared me a glance. “Hey. Do you still work here? You’re, like, never on the schedule.”

  “Yes, Angela, I still work here. How are the kids?”

  Phil stuck a straw in the gin and tonic. “There you go, darlin’.”

  With a huff of relief, Angela grabbed the drink, set it on a tray, and rushed away. I watched her head for one of the far booths. Sadly, that was one of the most pleasant interactions I’d ev
er had with her.

  Ariel rolled her eyes at me and jiggled a shot pointedly. I stared at the liquid sloshing within the glass, then realized I was still holding mine. She did have a point—I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed a night out. Was I really going to live the rest of my life like that? Heaving a defeated sigh, I clinked it against hers.

  “Well, I don’t want my brain to shrink. Cheers.” I poured the alcohol down my throat, and the burning sensation was like an old friend. I raised my eyebrows at Ariel. “Happy?”

  “Very,” she said primly. “And I’ll be even happier if you do this one, too.”

  Phil set more shots in front of us. I stared down at them, and it felt like I was two people. Like the halves that formed me were fighting each other in hand-to-hand combat. For the past month, I had just been existing. Surviving. There was a constant ache in my chest I didn’t acknowledge or talk about, because everyone around me had aches of their own. Why would I burden them with more pain, more worry? Especially when I’d brought it on myself, anyway?

  I poured the alcohol into my mouth. Before it was even down my throat, Ariel asked Phil for yet another round, and I stopped resisting. Already I felt warmer, looser.

  We did two more shots together, or maybe it was three. I lost track of time after that. Ariel and I ended up on the dance floor—a generous term for it, since it was just an open space that the regulars created every Friday and Saturday night—and colorful lights flashed over us as we moved. Music crackled from the old speakers. More and more people came through the door, filled the booths and tables, danced around us. Despite her size, Ariel was surprisingly efficient at keeping my ardent admirers at a distance. For the first time in a long time, I was able to enjoy myself unimpeded by unwanted touches or passionate declarations. The alcohol also softened my abilities, making it bearable every time Ariel’s skin brushed against mine.

  Why did I ever stop drinking?

  As the night went on and the shots kept coming, I forgot to be careful. Someone should listen to the words I had to share, words that had been momentarily misplaced. Someone should hear about my secret pains and struggles. Maybe if I gave the burden to someone else, my shoulders would not feel so heavy all the time.