The Dream Travelers Boxed Set #2: Includes 2 Complete Series (9 Books) PLUS Bonus Material

by Sarah Noffke

  Kris’s head snapped to the side when she heard the gate shut. “Kaleb?” she said into the microphone, as quietly as she could manage from the edge of the property. “Is that you?”

  No answer.

  Stepping carefully, Kris moved until the side of the house was in view. Rox had already spun toward the sound of the noise. Kris respected how well trained the FBI agent was. However, Rox couldn’t see who was on the other end of the house.

  Oh shit! “Malcolm is on the side of the yard,” Kris whispered into her radio.

  “Take the target. I’ve got this,” Rox spoke into the radio, appearing to others to be talking to herself.

  “You got it,” Kris said, switching into her visible form and dashing in the direction of Marianne. The woman’s eyes darted at her as she came into view, her hands frozen with the shears still in them and a dumbstruck look on her face. “We’ve got to go. You’re in danger,” Kris said, grabbing the woman’s other hand and pulling her toward the back exit of the house. They’d shortcut it back to the SUV as long as the house wasn’t invaded with Mika’s people too.

  Rox sank into a fighting stance. Sparring with one of the werewolves wasn’t something she wanted to do, but she’d learned a long time ago that FBI agents do many things they don’t want to. Preservation was key. Completing the mission was another one.

  Malcolm stepped around the corner of the house, his green eyes dull, but his actions sharp.

  Yep, he was brainwashed into submission. Fucking great, Rox thought. The man squinted from the overhead light, his short wiry black hair catching the sun as he came into full view.

  “How about you come back to the Lucidite Institute with me? We’re the good guys. Mika bad. Lucidites good,” Rox said, her tone, as always, belittling. “Got it, doggy?”

  Behind her, Rox heard something move and turned just as a wheelbarrow raced in her direction, knocking her off her feet as it scooped her up. She fell back into it, her head banging against the metal. The wheelbarrow sped forward and halted just at Malcolm’s feet.

  She looked up at the man, a sultry expression on her face. “Well, hey there, hottie. You want cream to go with that coffee skin?” she said, winking casually up at the guy who had menace written on his face.

  From her peripheral she spied a shovel racing from the side of the house in her direction. This telekinetic asshole didn’t know a good offer when he got one. Rox rolled to the side, the wheelbarrow falling over as she spilled out of it. The shovel flew through the air and came down on her head to no effect just before she dove forward away from further assaults.

  She rolled on her back, coming to her feet in a crouched position, one knee down. “Seriously, you’re making this harder than it has to be. Snap out of it and play on our team,” she said, as Malcolm crossed his arms over his chest, a narrowed look on his face. Rox loved that part. The moment when the bad guy realized that none of his attempts to hurt her had worked. Bang a shovel over her head and she’d jump back up like hit with a cotton ball.

  Although Rox didn’t want to hurt Malcolm, one of the weres, she had to stay with the target and Marianne and Kris could have found trouble inside the house. Rox noticed a potted plant racing toward her and rolled behind the upturned wheelbarrow just as it did. Malcolm must have redirected its path to follow her, which was why she heard the crack when the plant rammed into the back of the wheelbarrow. Knowing she only had one chance, Rox lifted the wheelbarrow as she stood; then she raised it over her head and launched it at the werewolf. Not having a moment to react using his telekinesis, he ducked his head and raced in the opposite direction as the wheelbarrow was thrown at him. Rio would be proud of that display of power, but Rox didn’t have long to think of that as she sprinted for the back door. She locked it behind her, knowing that wouldn’t stall Malcolm long. What they needed to do was get away with the target, but that wasn’t going to happen if she had to kill a dumb mutt who didn’t know any better.

  The whispering over the radio was the perfect ASMR, the experience that triggers a tingling sensation on the scalp that sometimes precedes deep relaxation and sleep. Kaleb had only recently read about the phenomenon in one of the books he’d gotten from the Lucidites’ library. He’d been picking up the most random books lately, hoping that he could supply the most random pieces of information in conversation going forward. Randomness took skill.

  Kaleb’s visual cortex registered two trees in the distance. Palm trees. He climbed into the hammock tethered between the trunks, staring at the mountains on the other side of a lagoon. This was the perfect experience and yet it felt so wrong for some reason. The tide brought a new wave, but there was something riding on it. How strange that the calm lagoon would have waves, he thought with a shrug. The water parted as a great white shark slid onto the sandy beach, its black eyes straight on Kaleb. Then the beast opened his mouth and said, “You owe me twelve dollars.”

  Oh no! Kaleb realized at once what was wrong. His eyes sprung open. He had fallen asleep. And his sloppiness had come at a price. Down the middle of the road, where he’d first learned how to ride his bike, there stood a man, standing crossed-armed next to a white van. The black uniform he wore told Kaleb that he was one of Mika’s men. The black bun and sniveling stare he wore told Kaleb the guy was no-nonsense and here to do business. Business that involved his mother!

  The house appeared as it had before, quiet and mostly empty. Hopefully, he awoke just in time and could cut this guy off before he screwed up everything. Kaleb knew he should radio for backup, but instead he opened the SUV door and caught the attention of the guard. It was Kaleb’s turn for some action. As soon as the guard took notice of him he began to sprint forward. Kaleb did exactly what only he could do and paused time, making the guy freeze in mid-sprint, his black boot down in front of him and his other one kicked up in the air.

  Racing in the guard’s direction, Kaleb cleared the fifteen yards in only a few seconds. He froze in front of the guard, who although slight in build, looked to have the type of muscles conditioned by martial arts. Now facing Bun Man, Kaleb didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t the violent type and therefore, his initial idea of knocking him out while the clock was stopped wasn’t going to work. Never had he liked the idea of bringing his fist across someone’s face. And wasn’t that what his skill afforded him? A unique advantage. Kaleb shot his gaze around, looking for a weapon. Time was running out. He could only keep it paused for another few seconds. Knowing he was limited on options, he did the only thing he could think of and extended his leg out in front of the guard and released time.

  Bun Man’s shin connected with Kaleb’s leg, knocking into it harder than he had expected. However, the result was as he intended. The guard tripped over Kaleb’s leg, tumbling forward. Unfortunately, the impact brought Kaleb off balance, knocking him back as well. Bun Man ricocheted off his back, like Kaleb had seen in all those dubbed martial arts movies, landing on his toes. He was going to learn that trick later. But for now, he needed to make this lemming of Mika’s pay. The guard didn’t look as surprised as he should have that Kaleb had sprouted up out of nowhere and tripped him. Instead, Bun Man grunted, sinking down into a fighting stance, his fists raised up close to his face, which wore a pinched expression. Mika always employed the sourest people.

  “Did you know that people continue to burn fat even after an anaerobic workout has stopped? That’s a good reason to get on the Pilates reformer machine, if you ever needed one,” Kaleb said, slipping one of his random facts into the one-way conversation. Judging by this guy, he was an awful conversationalist.

  “Hiya!” Bun Man said, running forward, springing into the air and flipping around, kicking his legs as he did. Another cool trick Kaleb was going to consider learning, although breaking a sweat was out of the question. The guard was just about to launch a punch at Kaleb, who stood in the middle of the road calmly, when he paused time yet again. Frozen, the man’s body was at a forty-five-degree angle, his back flat
and his arm extended, fist inches from connecting with Kaleb. This was really too easy. Why learn to fight when the prankster had been gifted the perfect skill? He strolled around the guy, standing at his back, still not wanting to strike the Bun Man. With a firm intention, Kaleb released time and the guy fell forward, stumbling, his target having disappeared. Bun Man stared around, obviously confused by the sudden change.

  “Looking for me?” Kaleb said, at his back.

  Tensing, the guy turned and regarded Kaleb like he’d just insulted him greatly by vanishing. Kaleb was only getting started, though, and this was proving to be as he suspected, too much fun.

  Not even pausing to take a fighting stance, the guy opened his mouth, a low scream falling from it as he barreled forward, frustration covering his face. Kaleb waited until Bun Man, whom he was thinking of renaming Martial Arts, was closer before he stopped time. But this time it didn’t work. The man continued until he rammed both his hands into Kaleb’s shoulders, the surprise attack knocking him to the ground. He stared up at the man whose angry lips matched his eyes and again tried to pause time. But nothing happened. Why? The man appraised Kaleb as though considering whether to attack him while he was lying on the road or wait for him to get up. This didn’t look like a man who fought unfairly. However, Kaleb reminded himself that even with his enhanced werewolf strength and speed, he didn’t know how to fight. And this guy knew how to fight all too well. Once more he tried to pause time and again the intention failed. Bun Man stared at him like his patience was wearing thin and soon he would attack, even a man who was down.

  Kris had pulled the older woman all the way through her house and only paused when they came to the front door.

  “Oh shit,” she said, almost too loudly when the sight in the middle of the street caught her attention. Kaleb stood casually in front of Haiku, Mika’s director of security. Kaleb looked to be taunting the guy, which seemed a bit typical of the prankster. A moment later, and Kaleb had disappeared and now stood at Haiku’s back. He was using his power to stop time, Kris observed. Maybe that could buy her the time she needed to get Marianne to the SUV. However, just then Haiku rammed hard into Kaleb, knocking him to the ground, where he lay, looking suddenly petrified. Something was wrong. Kaleb was in trouble. Kris had to act. She wasn’t going to allow Haiku to cart him back to Olento Research.

  “Kaleb,” Marianne said, with a gasp. Her gloved hand, still holding the shears, popped to her mouth.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got this,” Kris said, plucking the gardening shears from the woman’s hand and racing in the direction of the pair fighting. She turned invisible as she ran, probably giving the older woman a double heart attack. That lady would need serious counseling after watching all of this.

  Haiku balled up both his fists, his back leg telegraphing that he was about to attack. Kaleb pushed his hands up behind him, rising to a standing position just as Kris neared, making more noise than she’d like. Haiku peered over his shoulder, but not seeing anything he quickly spun back to Kaleb, who stood at full height. Just when the director of security unfurled another attack in Kaleb’s direction, Kris brought the gardening shears up and thrust them down, straight into Haiku’s back. Flesh met the blade, and split at once from the force she employed to drive it deep. Haiku jolted forward, a wail making his mouth open wide, followed by a choking sound.

  Kaleb’s face said everything that Kris couldn’t say. She’d done something grotesque, but she had no choice. Instantly, she became visible and reversed away from the man whose back was now covered in blood. Haiku reached awkwardly for the shears, but simultaneously flinched from the act of doing so. Not able to stomach the sight another second, Kris motioned to Kaleb.

  “Come on! Let’s go,” she yelled, running for the SUV.

  Rox heard the scream just as she yanked the front door back. The sight that met her wasn’t expected as she watched a man kneel over in the street, gardening shears protruding unnaturally from his upper back. Kaleb stood frozen, staring at the man with a horrified expression. An instant later Kris materialized, yelling to Kaleb, and the pair went fleeing for the vehicle.

  Hearing Malcolm knocking his shoulder into the back door, Rox grabbed Marianne’s arm and yanked her forward. The woman felt fragile so Rox tried to only pull her as fast as she thought the older woman could go. She’d been standing on the front step and looking as frozen as her son had been. “Get in!” she yelled to Mrs. Magner as they approached the vehicle, jerking the passenger door open as the other two joined them.

  “What happened back there? Why didn’t you tell me that Malcolm was on my tail?” Rox said, speeding the SUV through the streets of Salt Lake City, toward the rendezvous point. She’d already set it up with her FBI contacts that she’d be handing off a person whom they’d take into witness protection. That was the best possible option for Marianne Magner, who couldn’t be housed at the Lucidite Institute, but was unsafe out in the world as long as Mika wanted her dead.

  “I made a mistake,” Kaleb said, gnashing on his bottom lip with his teeth.

  “What kind of mistake?” Rox said, her adrenaline spiking in her veins.

  “I’m sorry. I fell asleep,” Kaleb said and she caught him eye the back, careful to keep his full gaze off his mother, who Rox could see from the rearview mirror was visibly shaking.

  She closed her eyes briefly and dropped her head. “Damn it, Kaleb!”

  “I know. I’m sorry,” he said again, real agony in his voice.

  “Why didn’t you radio though?” Rox asked. “Why were you fighting that guard?”

  “You know why,” he said, defeat heavy in his voice. “But something went wrong. I couldn’t use my power a third time.”

  “Probably because you’d overused it. Didn’t you think there’d be a limit on it? You sure as hell would have known that if you went through any sort of training,” Rox said, the implication strong in her words.

  “Yeah, I screwed up. My mother knows all about how good I am at that,” Kaleb said.

  A soft crying filled the compartment, which suddenly felt too small. Kaleb closed his eyes, needing a time-out, and paused time, freezing the SUV speeding down the road. Everyone in the vehicle froze as well. So his skill was back. He’d worried he’d lost it for good. But Rox was probably right and the power needed time to charge back up before being used over and over again.

  Kaleb turned to see his mother in the back seat, her hands covering her face, the gardening gloves serving as a makeshift handkerchief. Why had he said that about screwing up, insinuating that she only pointed out what he did wrong? She’d just undergone a trauma and he’d insulted her quickly afterward. Was he turning into a monster? He felt like one right then, staring at the mannequin-like image of his mother. Maybe he’d run out of time or his power hadn’t built back up, but time released without his command, and they continued barreling down the road to the supposed safe house.

  “Kaleb, what’s going on?” he heard his mother say into her gloves.

  He pulled his gaze away from her, pretending his focus needed to be forward. “Your werewolf protests peeved a really powerful man. The one who made me,” he said, not completely believing he was being this direct with his mother. It felt like a dream.

  “Why did you let him do this to you?” she said, through sobs.

  Kaleb shook his head. Of course she’d think he signed up for this. That’s what a loser would do. He opened his mouth to say something when he was cut off.

  “Let?!” Kris said, from the backseat. “Your son never had a choice. He was abducted and imprisoned and the last thing he needs is you convicting him of signing up for this experiment.”

  Kaleb wanted to smile. Twice Kris had come to his defense that day. He’d have to thank her later.

  “You—” Kaleb’s mother said to Kris, from the backseat, her tone stronger now. “You disappeared. What’s wrong with you all? Where are you taking me?”

  Refraining from rolling
his eyes, Kaleb directed his focus over his shoulder at his mother. “There’s nothing wrong with her, just like there’s nothing wrong with me. We’ve just been altered by an evil man. The exact same one that we just rescued you from. You didn’t believe me, Mother, and now you’re a member of the witness protection program. Congratulations,” Kaleb said, his tone as neutral as he could make it.

  “What? But I have plans,” she shrieked, with fear. “I need to get back.”

  “You should have thought about that before you went on your campaign,” Kaleb said, and then added, “Thanks for exposing me, Mom. So thoughtful of you.”

  “Kaleb, I had to. I knew the devil had done something—”

  “Stop!” Kaleb yelled. “Just stop.”

  The vehicle went completely silent. All that could be heard was the click of the blinker as Rox turned down a road, slowing the SUV.

  “Kaleb?” his mother said, in a small voice behind him.

  “What?” He bit on the one word.

  “Who are you now? Are you okay?” she said, almost sounding nice, but mostly seeming curious. She probably needed details so she could adequately pray for him.

  “I’m fine. I’m an agent for the most powerful organization in the world,” he said, and once he’d properly completed training then that statement would really be true.

  Chapter Seven

  “The parietal lobe is the main area of the brain that is different in Dream Travelers, versus Middlings. The activity is significantly higher in this area, which increases beta frequencies, producing lucid dreaming.”

  - Dream Traveler Codex

  Without the comfort of his family, there were few thrills for Derek presently. He longed for Sunday lunches with his parents, long discussions with his cousins in front of the fire, or even the coziness that came from typing out the stories in his head.