“Sleep isn’t as relaxing as it used to be,” I murmured.
Ben’s eyes flashed, and he studied the string circling my neck as if he knew it held the pouch of sand beneath my shirt. His fingers trembled, and he slid the neck of my shirt up over my bare shoulder. A blush colored his pale cheeks. “I know.”
I rubbed at the spot his fingers grazed, both savoring the warmth left behind and willing it away. That he could bring such a mix of feelings fluttering to the surface when I knew so little about him, made me want to run the other way. Instead, I inched closer and asked, “Will you stay?”
“The next time you open your eyes, I’ll be there,” he said with a small smile.
My mind struggled to understand his answer, but my eyelids lost the fight to stay open. I laid down. “We’re going to finish our conversation tomorrow.” The words were thick and slurred with sleep. “You’re not getting out of it.”
The mattress shifted against his weight. One of his arms slid beneath my head until my cheek rested on his chest. It felt sturdy. Safe. The quick thump thump thump of his heart pulsed against me. I snuggled against his side, letting his warmth lull me into slumber.
“Sleep well, Nora,” he whispered, and I faded away.
12
The Sandman
For the first time, it wasn’t the humming along our cord that told me the exact moment Nora fell asleep. I felt it in the weight of her head against my chest and the slight change of her breath. Her hand slid down my side, limp. I slipped my arm out from beneath her and gently set her head on the pillow, brushing the hair from her face.
The next time she laid eyes on me, it would change everything about our relationship. The trust we built up over the last five years would shatter in a single instant. Every word I ever spoke, all the promises I ever made, each laugh, each smile, each kind gesture wouldn’t make any difference. She would question it all, and she would be right to.
With a sigh, I closed my eyes and followed her consciousness back to the beach.
Sand shifted beneath my boots, my hood and gloves already in place, shielding me a moment longer than I deserved. Nora’s eyes burned into my back. The thought of turning around and seeing the look on her face turned my blood to ice.
Before I found the courage to move, she said, “Off with the hood.”
My nerves prickled, and I spun, peering at her from the safety of fabric. She crossed her arms, glaring at me from a few feet away. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears, or maybe it was fear shining back at me. I couldn’t tell. Either way, it was my own doing. My own stupid, stupid fault.
“Nora...”
“Sandman,” she countered with raised brows.
I grimaced. But maybe if she understood first... Maybe if she knew... “Let me explain.”
“Explain what?” she snapped, her arms dropping to her sides. “You said you would take it off tonight.”
“I will... I just...” My voice caught in my throat. I just what? “Let me start at the beginning and when I’m finished, I’ll remove the hood.”
Her nostrils flared, but she gave a terse nod.
I stared at my gloved hands held out before me, curling my fingers before letting them drop to my sides. “I thought it was better if we didn’t get attached. If a situation arose with the Weaver, I needed to keep the big picture in mind. I thought that if you didn’t see me, or know me, or touch me, that it would be impossible to care about each other. But I was wrong. Very wrong.”
Her green eyes narrowed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’re right. That isn’t the beginning.” My voice was weary. Resigned. The first and possibly biggest lie had to come first. I closed my eyes, and said, “The Weaver is the Lord of Nightmares as I am the Lord of Dreams. Everything created from magic has a counter, and he’s mine. But where dreams are holograms crafted from my sand, his creatures are living, breathing things that he inserts into people’s minds.”
“Five years ago, the Weaver found a way to release his nightmares into your world. They tortured and killed hundreds of people all over the world before I was able to bind him and seal the exits against his magic. It left me weak, and I had just enough power left to secure the knowledge of how I changed the fabric between our worlds. It was too dangerous to keep the information when I couldn’t defend it, so the night you called to me, instead of giving you good dreams, I gave you something else.”
She shook her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “What did you give me?”
Each of my breaths wavered, fighting their way into tight lungs. “A dream containing the secret to releasing the Weaver’s nightmares into your world. I…I made you a Dream Keeper to save us all.”
She stood straighter and took half a step toward me. “That’s what a Dream Keeper is? That’s what I’m keeping?” Her voice was harsh and constrained. “That’s what the Weaver wants so much? To bring a cosmic-ton of monsters to my world and kill more people?”
I chomped down on the inside of my cheek and backed into my hood, relishing my last moments in shadow. “Yes.” Then, riding a tiny wave of unwarranted defensiveness for my foe, I added, “I’m sure whatever his reasons are, they make sense to him.”
Nora paled, the freckles stark against her face. Her fingers trembled, and she touched them to her chest. “You want to talk about reasons? I’m the reason everyone is dead right now.”
My heart stopped. “No, Nora. No. It’s my fault. Magic isn’t infinite; it wears down and frays like well-worn cloth, but I didn’t notice. If I had...” If I had, no one would be dead. But I thought there was more time. I stepped forward to touch her, to let her feel my sincerity, but stopped myself. “I wouldn’t have done this to you if it weren’t absolutely necessary at the time. You understand that, right?”
“I don’t understand anything. Are you crazy? I was twelve.” Nora sucked in air and paused. She tilted her head, her brows lowering. When she exhaled, her whole body seemed to deflate. “You asked my permission the night we met, didn’t you? You were hurt and said you needed my help with something important. And I agreed.”
I nodded. It wasn’t a fair question to ask her; she was young and didn’t know the risks. How could she when I didn’t explain any of the details? But I had no choice. It had only been a few hours since the battle, and it was all I could do to keep from bleeding out in front of her. I assumed she had forgotten that night.
“I’ve spent every night since making sure you didn’t accidentally see it,” I said. “I’ve protected you from the consequences of my mistake for the last five years, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough to keep him from finding you. If he kills you, the dream will be lost forever. By killing people around you, the Weaver is poisoning your dreams in hopes you’ll become more susceptible to nightmares—so he can snatch you out of the Dream Realm.”
“And if he does?” She dug her fingers into her hair and scanned the beach. “If he gets me?”
Dread oozed through my veins, thick and cold. If the Weaver ever broke through and managed to get his claws into Nora, that would be the end. Everything would have been for nothing. There were too many nightmares for me to take on alone, and if Nora was in his realm, every single one of them would be there. Safeguarding their master while he tortured his way into her mind. Helping him do it. I shuddered. He wouldn’t let her go until he got what he wanted, then the entire world would be in peril.
“He may not be able to kill you until you allow him access to the dream, but he can keep you from waking up,” I told her carefully.
Her head jerked side to side. “If he did that, and I still refused to give it to him…?”
I stepped forward, but my knees threatened to buckle. “You would,” I said quietly. The Weaver had an endless supply of terror devices at his disposal. Things that got pleasure from pain. Things that would be more than happy to rip into her. “Trust me, Nora. You would give him anything he asked for.”
She stumbled away from me. �
�This whole time I thought we were friends.”
“We were.” I reached for her hand and when she didn’t pull away, I laced my fingers through hers. “We are.”
She stared down at where we were joined and scowled. Her eyes flashed with a dozen emotions before she spoke. “I want to know everything.” The words were so soft, I barely heard them. “All of it.”
A smile tugged at my mouth. She wasn’t running. She didn’t hate me—at least not completely. Not yet. She was listening, trying to understand, so maybe there was a chance my identity wouldn’t ruin us. Maybe.
So, I told her everything. I explained the barriers and what was really on the other side of the one around the beach. The Day World and the Night World. The Dream Realm and the Nightmare Realm. About the importance of maintaining the balance and how the universe would find a way to even things out if something disturbed it. About magic and Day Walking and why I was weaker now than I had ever been because of where I chose to allocate my magic. The Weaver and his threads. The connection I had to him and to her. The cords tying me to all the Dreamers who knew my legend. How I needed to find the Weaver to re-bind him, and how I would do it once I had.
I left nothing out while she stood there absorbing every word. Every detail. She didn’t interrupt me once, but when I finished speaking, her eyes traveled up to my hood. I braced myself. There was still one thing we hadn’t covered. Me.
She took her hand from mine, her face set. My feet were rooted in place while I watched the war wage within her. It went on for so long I nearly fell to my knees and begged for forgiveness. She deserved that much, but I might as well finish digging my grave first.
Finally, she whispered, “No more secrets, Sandman.”
“No more secrets,” I echoed.
Terror coiled through me, and I gripped the edges of my hood. I wasn’t ready. I might never be, but there were so many more important things at stake than our friendship. I didn’t come so far safeguarding the Day World only to fail because I was afraid of hurting someone I loved. Losing Nora would be the same as having my beating heart torn from my chest, but she was in this, for better or worse. I would rather she be alive and hate me than distrust me and perish for it.
With a steadying breath, I brushed the hood back, letting it fall between my shoulder blades. I felt naked as I slowly lifted my gaze from my boots. Nora’s face was unreadable. Blank. Of all the reactions I was anticipating, nothing wasn’t one of them.
“I didn’t mean to lie,” I said in a rush. “Not really. I wanted to tell you who I was, but you didn’t believe I existed here, so I didn’t think you would believe I existed there.” I held my arms out to the side and shrugged. “But now you know.”
She didn’t take her gaze off me, her eyes locked on mine. “Now I know,” she repeated slowly.
My heart pounded in my chest. I pried off my gloves one finger at a time, showing her the rest of what I kept hidden. The marks she saw in her world shifted around my hands, twisting and swirling with exposure to the sand.
“I knew it. I knew it. Your voice, something about the way you moved...” Nora reached out and grazed the back of my fingers. A jolt of energy rushed through my body. The marks fluttered, shifting toward her touch. She watched, transfixed, and her fingertips followed the specks up the back of my hand. “I recognized you.”
I flipped my hand over and curled my fingers to hold hers. That she would let me... “You’re not mad?”
“Are you kidding? I’m furious.” She lunged, wrapping her arms around me, and buried her face in my neck. “But I’m relieved more than I’m angry. You’re real. Really real. I mean, I believed it after you gave me the sand but... I’m not insane.”
Her breath danced over my skin, and I brought my arms up to return the embrace. Having her against me felt surreal as if I were the one dreaming. I breathed her in, my body buzzing. I didn’t know what it meant for us. If she forgave me. Trusted me. Cared for me. She was relieved, that much I could see without being told. Everything everyone told her was broken about herself was false. I was proof of that. Real, living proof. It didn’t mean she loved me. It didn’t mean she still wanted me here—outside of getting her sister back and stopping the Weaver. If she rejected me now, it would be so much worse. So much more personal. I swallowed hard. The truth was worth it.
“Oh, God.” She leaned away.
I blinked at the sudden loss of contact. “What?”
“What do you mean what?” Her cheeks blazed. “I kissed you.”
“You did.” I grinned. I couldn’t help it.
“Oh, my God.” She gently shoved my chest. “I can’t believe you let me do that. Are you crazy?”
I grinned wider.
“Sandman! Wipe that smug look off your face.” She covered her face with a groan. “This is so embarrassing.”
I cocked my head, the smirk fading. The rejection would be more personal, yes, but I had to know. It was already a secret kept too long, and we just agreed not to have any more. I carefully pried her hands away from her face. “If you knew it was me...” I cleared the lump from my throat. Hope I hadn’t dared allow before bubbled to the surface. “Would it be so bad?”
“Would what be bad?” she asked, keeping her gaze down.
“If the person you kissed was me?” Her eyes snapped up to mine, silent and probing, and a flood of emotions broke free of their gate. “I’ve been in love with you for a year,” I blurted before I could stop myself. The blood drained from my face. It was too soon to tell her that, but the words were out and there was no rewind.
“You have?” she asked, breathless and half-believing. Her gaze dropped to my chest.
My muscles burned against the strain of remaining upright. I had no regret about my feelings, only pain-laced terror. Her reaction held more power over me than the Weaver ever could. “Yes.”
“Oh.” Her fingers rose to her lips, her cheeks glowing red. Then slowly, her hand fell. Her blush faded. She met my gaze again, and my heart skipped a beat. “I think I have too.”
I froze, not daring to breathe, while I waited for her to change her mind. To say she was kidding. But when she didn’t, I leaned down to press my forehead to hers, our noses brushing. She was still there. In front of me. Close to me. Seeing me. Me. Not the hood. And she felt the same way. My vision spun. “I’m yours. I’ll always be yours.”
Her breath hitched, the same break she had before she kissed me on the Ferris wheel. My lips tingled at the reminder. Would she allow me to kiss her? If I asked her permission, whatever spell this was, might break.
Nora tilted her chin up as if sensing the unspoken question. I shifted closer, and her hands skimmed my shoulders. A tremor rolled through me, but I was too afraid to move. She placed a tender kiss at the corner of my mouth, and my fear shattered.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, and the hem of her shirt lifted. When my hands found her waist, they grazed bare skin. I tightened my grip and urged her closer. Our lips collided. My whole world exploded in that moment.
A soft sound escaped her, and we pressed closer. My hands moved to her back, sliding up until my fingers tangled in her hair. I breathed her in. Memorized the feel of her. The taste of her. How long I had wanted this. Wanted her. This with her.
But if we kept going, if her hands, now sliding down my chest, went any lower, I wouldn’t want to stop. I would if she wanted me to, but if she didn’t... I brought my hands to her shoulders. If she wanted to, we would. However, as much as I wanted it, it definitely wasn’t the right time for that. Not with everything that was happening. When—if—it happened, I wanted to know it wasn’t because she felt lost or lonely. I wanted it to be because she knew she loved me as much as I knew I loved her.
“Nora,” I mumbled against her mouth.
She broke the kiss and rocked back off her toes. She watched me, studied me, with an expression I only dreamed about. “You’re real,” she said, closing her eyes. Her head pressed against my chest, over the epicenter of
my power. “You’re real.”
I wrapped my arms around her and set my chin on top of her head, trying to calm my erratic pulse. “I’m real,” I assured her.
I sat beside Nora, drawing circles over her kneecap with my finger, while she told me about her run-ins with the Weaver, the problems with the police, and her mother’s wariness. Her head rested on my shoulder, and we sat on the beach, watching the luminescent waves lap the shore. There hadn’t been a single nightmare in the sky. Part of me wanted to believe she was too content for the Weaver to pinpoint us. But, even if she was as happy as I was, fear still lurked beneath the surface. It had to; her life was falling apart.
“Don’t you have questions?” I asked, breaking the quiet calm.
Nora sighed. “I wish I could say no, but I do. I have so many, Sandman—wait.” She shifted her head to look up at me. “What do I call you?”
I nudged her forehead with my nose. “Whatever you want.”
“But is Ben your real name?”
“I don’t have a name,” I said into her hair.
“Everyone should have a name.” She set her head back on my shoulder. “Ralph? Sherwood?”
“Sherwood?”
“You don’t like it? How about Mortimer?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I take it back. Don’t call me whatever you want.”
“It’s a work in progress.” She laughed, and we were both silent for a moment before she said, “Why me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why did you choose me as Dream Keeper? You probably had a million people to choose from.”
I hesitated, wondering if she was asking something more than her words. There was nothing special about Nora in the Dreamer sense—or there wasn’t before, at least. Did she want there to be more? Would it hurt her to realize there was no special pull between us before I created one? “You called to me at the exact right time,” I said, my voice strained. We promised no more lies. “That’s all.”
Dream Keeper Page 12
