by Mallory, H P
Dia glared at me, her hands still resting on her hips. “And you do realize that if we do it your way and something happens to you, I’m going to have to deal with Knight?”
Ah, yes, the little problem known as Knight. “We’re both going to have to deal with Knight, and it’s not going to be pretty.”
“You won’t have to deal with him if you’re dead,” she snapped and started on her next lap across Sam’s room. “And if you’re dead, that means I’m going to have to face him alone.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at how casually she referred to my death—almost like it was a given. “Are you afraid of Knight…Diva?” I asked, challenging her.
She stopped pacing and glanced over at me before a smile brightened her lips. “With the way you’re able to get what you want from Knight and me, you should have been a lawyer,” she started. “And to answer your question, yes, Knight is sexy as sin, but intimidating all the same. I really don’t want to be at the receiving end of that temper, not to mention the fact that he’s very high up in the Netherworld ANC.” She began pacing again. “This could be a career-limiting move.”
“Buck up,” I said. “You’re the head of ANC Moon, you can deal with a Loki.”
She shook her head again. “Dealing with an enraged Loki aside, I’m not going to leave you alone with the Dreamstalker, Dulcie.”
Obviously my skills of persuasion needed some work. So much for being a lawyer. “Dia, do you really think the Dreamstalker is going to come anywhere near me if he senses you’re protecting me in my sleep? It sort of defeats the whole purpose.”
She was silent and I realized I had a good argument.
“No,” I continued. “We have to set this up as if it were real—that I’m here watching over Sam and not able to deal with the lack of sleep any longer, so I succumb. End of story.” I paused and glanced at her. “And you don’t enter into that equation.”
“Well, Miz, I’ve got it all figured out,” she started, hands on hips again, about as Diva as she could get. “How do you propose I catch the Dreamstalker if I can’t sense him? Or had you forgotten about that little detail?”
I smiled sweetly. “Didn’t you tell me you were an amazing cop earlier today at lunch?”
She shook her head and laughed but it was a strained sound. “Oh, you’re good, Girl, too good.”
I wasn’t as good as I would have hoped because a few minutes later, we’d reached a decision and it was a compromise to say the least. If there was one thing I hated, it was a compromise because, really, neither side got what they wanted. Our compromise entailed Dia stationing her best ANC person in Sam’s room and keeping an eye on me once I fell sleep. Meanwhile, Dia would scout the hospital, searching for any sign of the Dreamstalker. At the first sign of struggle from my sleeping body, my sitter would alert Dia and she’d invade my dreams, forcing me to wake up.
While this might have sounded good in theory, what it boiled down to was the fact that I would have no chance to defeat the Dreamstalker because Dia would be there at the first instance of me tossing and turning. And I assumed that as soon as my sleeping body came into contact with the Dreamstalker, I’d somehow reveal it by a sound or clenched eyes, or something else. I could wind up meeting the Dreamstalker and never having the chance to tell him off at the very least. I’d be awake with nothing gained. And to make matters worse, the Dreamstalker would know Dia was involved and who knew in how many ways that would blow our cover.
But, no matter, in true Dulcie O’Neil form, I already had a plan to foil this little problem without Dia being any the wiser.
“So, we start tonight,” Dia asked but before I had the chance to answer, my cell phone rang. I glanced down to see who was calling but the screen was blank—like the phone couldn’t even register the call, probably denoting long distance.
“Gimme a second,” I said, glancing at Dia as I brought the phone to my ear. “Dulcie O’Neil.”
“It’s me.” It was Knight.
I felt my stomach drop and leaned a hand against the wall to support myself. “Knight? Where are you?” I asked, wondering if he was already back from the Netherworld.
“I’m at Banshee,” he answered and the lie pierced me like a dull blade.
“Bullshit,” I started. “I know you aren’t at Banshee so drop the charade.”
I chanced a glance at Dia who looked entirely too interested in the conversation so I started for the hall, in search of a little privacy.
“How?”
“Why did you lie to me?” I insisted and perched myself on a window sill at the far end of the corridor.
“What…”
“I know where you are, Knight, you were brought in for questioning to the High Court.”
He was quiet for a second. “How did you find out?”
“Dia,” I answered before it occurred to me that maybe she wouldn’t have wanted him to know she’d blown the lid off his lie. Oh, well, damage done. “Why did you lie to me?”
“I can’t talk about that right now, Dulcie,” he said and his tone was all business.
I sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to tell me anything more. The ANC could have tapped the phone lines and probably had. “Just tell me you’re alright,” I said in a soft voice.
He breathed out a long breath. “I’m fine.”
“Are you going to continue to be fine?”
He was silent for a few seconds. “I don’t know.”
“Knight,” I started, not even knowing what I wanted to say, there were so many emotions pounding through me.
“I can’t talk now, Dulcie,” he said and cut me off. “I was just calling to make sure you aren’t going to do anything stupid.”
Ah, here it came. “Knight…”
“Dulcie, promise me. Wait until I get back.”
But, I couldn’t promise him anything. Not when Dia and I had already made plans to go after the Dreamstalker this evening. And, like I’d mentioned earlier, I hated to lie…well, when I wasn’t on Mandrake anyway. “I can’t promise, Knight.”
“Dulcie, I know what you’re going to try to do and like I said before, you’re going to get yourself killed.”
But, regardless of what he thought or said, I was steadfast. “I won’t let Sam die, Knight.”
“But, you’ll let yourself die?” he asked and his voice was as sharp as barbed wire.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I answered truthfully.
“Dulcie, I’ll be out of here in another day. They expedited my case and I was able to go first.” He breathed out a sigh of pent-up frustration. “If I’ve never asked you for a favor before, I’m asking for one now. Don’t do anything until I get back.”
I swallowed hard. “If the Dreamstalker goes after Sam…”
“Please, Dulcie.”
I tried to relax my jaw once I realized I was clenching my teeth. “By the sound of it, you still want me to wait for you, even if this thing attacks Sam?” I asked icily.
He paused and his silence spoke volumes. I knew the answer to my question before he even offered it. “I’m sorry but you mean more to me than Sam does.”
Well, Sam meant more to me than anyone else did and she was the only family I had, even if she wasn’t related to me. “If something happens to Sam, Knight, I’m going to do what I have to do.”
“Sam can hold on for another day or so.”
“You don’t know that and furthermore, you don’t know that you’ll be back in a day.”
“No, I don’t, but if I had to guess…”
“It would still be a guess,” I interrupted.
“Dulcie, please.” Knight had never begged for anything and the desperation in his tone gave me cause for pause.
The more I thought about it, I wondered if maybe we could put it off for another night or so. I mean, if I were to go to sleep now, who was to say the Dreamstalker would even know it? What it came down to was the fact that I had to try it my way—meaning I couldn’t promise Knight anything, not when
Sam’s life was at stake.
“Knight, I can’t…”
“Dulcie!” Dia screamed.
I felt my heart drop as I pushed off from the window sill and landed on the floor. My body went into autopilot and I started running as quickly as I could for Sam’s room. Dia came tearing out of the room and there was panic on her face.
“What?!” I yelled. “What the hell happened?”
“The Dreamstalker!” Dia answered and grabbed my arm, both of us hurrying for Sam’s room. “He’s here!”
“Dulcie!” Knight yelled into the phone. I hadn’t realized I still had the phone up to my ear. Everything had happened so quickly and yet even as I was in the situation and responding, I felt like I was in a dream; like I was watching it from afar and everything was in slow motion.
“Knight, I have to go,” I said, not recognizing my own voice.
“Dulcie,” Knight’s voice broke. “Dulcie, don’t do anything…”
I accidentally dropped the phone, causing it to shatter, the battery sliding across the floor and coming to rest underneath the empty cot. A few seconds later, Dia’s phone started ringing but I couldn’t say I really processed it and based on the fact that Dia was staring down at Sam in horror, she didn’t either.
Looking at Dia’s expression, I was afraid to glance down to witness whatever was happening to my best friend. But, I had to. When I forced my eyes to Sam’s face, my heart constricted as rage built within me.
She was sweating profusely and her lips were completely white—pressed tightly together as tears bled from her eyes. A spasm rocked her body and I didn’t even realize I was crying until I felt the tears tickling my cheeks as they fell .
The Dreamstalker had called my bluff.
I was ready to meet him.
“Now, it has to be now,” I said and glanced at Dia who nodded before bolting for the door.
“I have to get someone to watch over you,” she yelled behind her.
I climbed atop the empty cot and looked at Sam one last time. “I’m coming, Sam,” I whispered. “Just hold the fuck on.”
Before Dia could return to witness what I was up to, I shook my fist until a mound of fairy dust materialized and clenched it tightly, not wanting anyone to catch a glimpse of the opalescent particles in my hand. Luckily for me and my plan, the man who would keep watch over me arrived before Dia did and once he stepped into the room, I called him over.
As soon as he leaned down, I threw the fairy dust into his face and imagined his mind a blank canvas, ready for my command. He flinched and tried to free his eyes and mouth of the dust at first but once the words left my mouth, he stopped fighting and merely stared back at me.
“When Dia leaves this room, you are going to fall into a deep sleep and will not wake up until either I tell you to wake up or…”I could barely finish the sentence. I took a deep breath. “Or I die.”
The man just nodded and stepped away from my cot, standing against the wall like a Beefeater outside Buckingham Palace. I had one shot to take the Dreamstalker down and I wasn’t about to take the chance of having this guy alert Dia if I started to look restless.
Dia came racing back into Sam’s room and her attention fell on me. She glanced at the man in the corner and I could see the relief in her eyes. Little did she know her assigned watcher was useless.
“I’m going to need your help,” I said, looking up at her. “There’s no way I can fall asleep on my own. Not with all this adrenaline pumping through me,” I added.
She looked down at me before focusing on Sam again. She winced and I didn’t want to look at Sam to figure out why.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“Yes, do it now.”
“Close your eyes and try to imagine your mind emptying out until there isn’t anything to focus on,” she said and I closed my eyes until all I could see was the beauty of darkness.
Dia grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight. I wasn’t sure if she needed to in order to help me fall asleep or if she just did it for moral support. Either way, I needed and appreciated the gesture and squeezed back.
Then I focused on infinity as hard as I could, feeling myself swimming in the pitch blackness before me.
#
I was in a cave.
I glanced up at the ceiling which suspended stalactites and mineral deposits. As soon as I glanced up, a drop of water plopped against my forehead, followed by one after another. The smell of stagnant water permeated the air, mildewy and dank. I shivered in the darkness and had to wonder how I was able to see anything within the cave because in my mind’s eye it was pitch black. I felt another drop of water but this time it landed on the top of my head because I was glancing down at myself. Somehow in the darkness, I was able to discover that I was wearing next to nothing—short white shorts and a bright pink tube top. My feet were bare.
And that was when I realized I was dreaming because there was no way in hell Dulcie O’Neil would ever wear pink or a tube top.
Ha, not on your life.
“You’re asleep,” I told myself, suddenly feeling like there was something I had to remember but couldn’t. Yes, there was something important—something I’d been focused on for what felt like days or maybe even years. It was something I once knew or I’d written down. And I needed this information to break through the illusion of this dreamscape.
Illusion of this dreamscape…the words rang through me until I no longer pictured the cave around me from my own point of view. I was suddenly projected outside myself looking in—merely watching a woman as she stood in the cave and tried to make sense of the situation around her. And that was when I realized the sleeping me had taken over.
I was in a dream but I’d just harnessed it; I’d taken control.
The woman in the pink tube top glanced around the cave again and the realization that this wasn’t my manifestation occurred to me. Someone else had created this landscape. The fleeting thought that I could change the reality around me floated through my cloudy mind and it took me a second or two to completely register the thought as true. Just as quickly as the thought entered, the next one was swiftly behind it—the feeling that I shouldn’t change the dreamscape—no, I needed to hide my powers. I needed to project the image of a vulnerable woman trapped and completely helpless.
I watched the woman take a precarious step forward and nearly lose her footing on the uneven terrain of the cave floor. She stabilized herself against the wall and the sounds of metal clanking against chain were suddenly thick in my ears. She glanced up, just as manacles materialized from the rock wall, growing like weeds on fast forward as they reached out and clasped the woman’s wrists, pulling her arms away from her body. Seeming to rewind, they retracted themselves back into the wall, pinning her arms.
I could feel the cold metal around my wrists and had to force my heartbeat to relax, imagining myself slowing my breathing. The woman suddenly inhaled deeply, breathing in for a count of three and breathing out for a count of three as my heartbeat decelerated.
The chill of cold metal against my ankles caused me to glance down and I found my feet secured against the rock wall, the wall jutting into my back painfully.
Then, I was outside of myself again, looking in on the image of the woman in the cave. There was fear in her eyes as she attempted to free herself from the manacles but her fight was pointless. As she struggled, she pushed her long gold hair out of the way and I caught the image of pointed ears.
If I hadn’t realized before that the woman was me, I realized it now. Apparently the dream me was a little slow.
“Dulcie O’Neil.”
The voice was deep but I couldn’t focus on it long enough to wonder if I recognized it or not. It was as if the cave were speaking to me, the voice bouncing through the depths of the cavern, reverberating into infinity.
“Who the hell are you?” the woman demanded, with a clenched jaw and emerald green eyes that blazed with anger and hatred.
“You took your swee
t fucking time to get here,” the voice continued, frightening in its body-less void. “You kept me waiting too long.”
But, the woman didn’t seem to care. Instead, she tried to make out his features in the darkness but the task was impossible. It was as if he were made up of the air around him, shadowy and dark. He was merely an outline.
“Show yourself,” she insisted but was met with nothing but the darkness of the cave. Her head turned from left to right as she tried to find any hint of the shadow man, her eyes wide with fear and anxiety.
“You’re nothing but a coward,” she spat out and pulled against her manacles again.
There wasn’t any response but a cold wind whipped through the cave, building in intensity as it gusted past the empty walls, moaning like the cries of ghosts coming from deep within the cave’s inner sanctum.
“Show yourself, you fucking coward,” the woman yelled again.
Suddenly the outline of a man was before me, delineated more finely than the shadow man, but still, his face and body were like black smoke, opaque where his eyes, nose and mouth should have been. Nothing about the specter hinted to his identity. I felt myself flinch, felt my heartbeat start erratically—as if it was pumping too much blood. The sudden thought that I had to get out of my head and back into playing the part of spectator met me. I fought against the roar of blood pounding in my ears and tried to bring the image of the woman back to my mind’s eye. When her image met me, it was translucent but it needed to be concrete, three-dimensional enough that I could reach out and touch her skin.
I clenched my eyes tight and forced my mind to detail the image of the woman, until I could make out the folds in her shorts, the drape of her eyelashes against her cheeks. I had her fully in my mind’s eye again.
“You call that showing yourself?” she snarled at the shadow and spat at him in disgust.
“You want to know who I am, bitch?” the shadow demanded.
