Tangled Dreams

by Cecilia Dominic

  The sound stopped and started, but it soon became apparent that it came from the Java Lemur coffee shop. They walked in the door to find chaos.

  "What the…?" Damien's jaw dropped. He'd seen the place during the morning rush, but it had never been as wild as this.

  The steaming of dairy products for espresso drinks punctuated the various conversations of a multitude of beings. A giant spider stood behind the counter at the top of the short flight of steps and prepared beverages with two legs, served baked goods with two, counted out change with two more, and stood on the others. Dwarves, elves, sprites, fairies, nymphs, and any other creature that would come out in daylight sat in Java Lemur, drank coffee beverages, read the human books and magazines, and laughed and chatted with others of its kind.

  Now I must be the one who's touched. Damien tasted acid at the back of his throat and backed through the door. "I'm out of here."

  "I think the psychological literature classifies this as flooding," Rizzo said, "or hitting you with all your fears at once." He grabbed the back of the departing Damien's jacket and dragged him back through the door. Now Damien knew with certainty they were in another realm; in reality, Arthur would never be strong enough to manhandle a police officer, at least not from what he could tell. Or maybe he had underestimated how much strength the waking world Arthur hid in his spare frame. The doctor held Damien's wrist and brought him through the shop, up the short flight of stairs, and to the coffee bar.

  "What would you like?" he asked.

  Damien shot him a dirty look but said, "Coffee, black."

  "I'll have a café mocha. I've wandered a long way to come here."

  The spider served them and pointed them to the condiment area.

  "Do we need to pay you now?" Arthur asked.

  "No," the spider replied in a sibilant voice. "Her Graciousness invited you and will cover your bill."

  "Her who?" asked Damien.

  "That one." The spider pointed to a petite woman in a silk beige suit and dual-toned designer pumps who stood behind them. Diamonds flashed at her neck, wrists, and ears, and her honey-colored hair was pulled back loosely in a tortoiseshell clip. She regarded them with the even, steady gaze of a queen who is accustomed to dealing with uncooperative subjects and a husband who refused to be ruled.

  "Milady." Arthur bowed, as did Damien, if a bit awkwardly.

  "Come join me, gentlemen," she said. "Arachne, I'll have another soy latte."

  "Yes, Majesty."

  They followed her to the wine bar part of the café, which was quieter. Arthur pulled one of the high stools away from a tall table, and she accepted the seat. He and Damien joined her. She studied them with golden eyes, and Damien couldn't help but notice that she was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. The look on Arthur's face said he felt the same.

  "Your thoughts are loud, Doctor," she said to Arthur, "but I do appreciate the compliment. And who, pray tell, is your handsome companion?"

  "This is Damien Lewis, a police officer here in Decatur, Milady. He has been involved in our, shall we say, interesting situation. More than I have, actually." He winced when Damien kicked him under the table.

  Can she hear what I'm thinking? Oh crap, oh crap.

  "I see. Yes, the situation is, indeed, interesting." She nodded to Arachne, who brought out her soy latte and another mocha for Arthur. She blew on her drink and sipped the foam.

  Damien stuffed his urge to get the hell out of there and forced himself to simply wait for the goddess, as he had identified her, to continue the conversation. From her demeanor and command, he guessed she was high-ranking, possibly even Hera. He sipped his coffee and glanced out the window, where a group of fauns and nymphs cavorted on the patio and sloshed red wine from a cask into waiting glasses.

  "I don't have much time to explain," the goddess told them. "Zeus is up to something. I spoke with Margaret earlier, but I just can't communicate with her. That's why I summoned you—you're involved in this, if reluctantly." She inclined her head toward Arthur. "And you, poor creature, are stuck and cannot change form. Something is definitely amiss."

  Damien raised his eyebrows at Arthur. "What does she mean?"

  "There's no time to explain now," Arthur said and patted Damien on the arm. "What do you think your husband is planning, Your Highness?" he asked the goddess, who must be Hera.

  "I don't know, but I fear that some of our number may be in danger. Zeus is so focused on his goals sometimes that he fails to see how his wild schemes affect others." She sighed. "Not that that's ever concerned him."

  Damien spoke directly to the goddess for the first time. "Did Persephone make it back?"

  Hera inclined her head. "Yes, but with difficulty, and that whole situation is worrisome in itself. The barriers between our world and yours are crumbling, and something caused Persephone to tumble through and not be able to return. Others have disappeared since she did. You were probably too busy chasing her to notice."

  Stung, Damien sat back. "I haven't recovered any more wandering women or heard of anyone else who did."

  "Who else has disappeared?" Arthur asked and nudged Damien, who got the message: don't be defensive.

  "Mostly nymphs, dryads, and other female immortals. I have lost count, but several of my number are missing. Hestia is up in arms about her bookkeeper being gone. The one who seems to be missing the highest number of attendants, or maybe she's complaining the most, is Aphrodite."

  "The goddess of love?" Damien asked. At least he remembered that much.

  "Precisely, although I would term it lust. She's quite perturbed, as you can imagine. She's even had to start dressing herself without assistance."

  Arthur coughed to hide a laugh. "And what may we do for you, Lady?"

  "You need to figure out who the human side of it is. If it was another immortal, I would have been able to find them, but there are too many of you. I need to know who is taking our ladies and how they're doing it. And also, if any of us, the Twelve, are in danger or if Persephone's disappearance was accidental."

  "That's a tall order, Milady," Damien said, "but I would like to know who was behind Audrey's kidnapping, although the creatures that held her didn't look human."

  "Audrey who?" Arthur rubbed his temples.

  "Audrey Aurora Sonoma. She's a writer."

  Arthur put his mocha cup down hard, his hands trembling. "Is she all right?"

  "She's in the same hospital you are, likely with a broken collarbone, but she'll recover."

  Hera dragged Damien's attention away from the strangely perturbed Arthur when she touched his hand with one slender finger. "That's the other reason you need to help me, young officer. The erosion of the boundaries between our worlds will also allow vampires, werewolves, and gods know what else to cross through. Those of you in law enforcement will be the first to know, and you will soon be overwhelmed."

  "Point taken."

  "Now I must be away. I need to keep an eye on my husband."

  Arthur and Damien stood and bowed, and she made descending from the chair into a graceful action even though her feet had dangled from it.

  "Thank you, gentlemen. I'm glad to know that manners haven't completely vanished."

  When she reached the door, she turned and blew them a kiss. It hit Damien like a cold wind and jolted him awake.

  12

  Damien woke to the clamor of nurses and doctors rushing into the room in response to the alarm bells on Arthur's machines. The older man watched them with shrewd eyes while they checked everything and determined that something must have triggered an alarm when he’d jolted awake.

  "How are you feeling, Arthur?" asked a large, gray-haired man in purple scrubs.

  "I've been better."

  One of the nurses pointed to Damien. "This young man was talking to him. I think he helped him come back."

  "I wouldn't argue with that," Arthur replied. "Now, I know you all are excited, but please leave me alone with him for a few minutes."
r />   After some grumbling, they filed out, and Arthur motioned for Damien to lean closer.

  "What do you remember about what you were dreaming?"

  "I dreamed we were at the Java Lemur having coffee with the Greek goddess Hera." His other questions—what the hell was Arthur, and how did he know Audrey?—wanted to tumble out, but Arthur held up a hand.

  "Good, and that was no dream. You need to take what she told us to the friends who dragged you into this. They'll know what to do with it."

  "But I don't want to leave you." Damien studied his friend, whose vigor of a few moments ago had deserted him and left him looking like a frail old man.

  "Ah, but you must. You have to watch over Audrey since I cannot."

  "How do you know her?"

  "No time for that now, boy. Every moment I'm here will make it harder for me to find my true path again. But there is one more thing."

  "Anything."

  "Everything in my office is yours. My will is in the bottom left-hand drawer of the desk."

  "Why are you talking like that?"

  "There are certain risks in what I am doing, and I am not certain I can return to this form, especially since my work here is almost done."

  "But you're better now." Tears pricked Damien’s eyes. "You don't have to return to that place."

  "But I do. It's important. Don't be scared by what will happen next. Remember, this is only a shell."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Go look at some of my books. You'll find the answers. Don't worry—this old bird still has some tricks in him. Go report Hera's message to your friends."

  Damien squeezed the old man's hand and backed out of the room. At the entrance of the I.C.U. he turned to see a white owl perched on the end of Arthur's bed. Tears still stung the corners of his eyes but wouldn't emerge to blur the room, which erupted in alarms, and a code was called.

  The owl, unperturbed, looked at him as if to say, "Go!" and disappeared.

  Damien turned and stumbled right into Charlie.

  "Dude, there you are."

  Charlie looked blurry through the tears that finally fell. Damien searched his brain. What am I supposed to tell him?

  "Uh oh, that code is Rizzo, isn't it?"

  Charlie's strong hand guided him down the hall to the elevator and then somewhere that seemed familiar. No matter how many times he blinked, he couldn't clear his eyes. He wondered if there was something wrong with him, if he had some sort of brain damage from having traveled to the Collective Unconscious again. The weight on his chest made it difficult to take a full breath.

  He turned to go back, to tell Arthur not to be a fool, but Charlie sat him down in the large leather chair behind Arthur Rizzo's desk, and his legs wouldn't obey his command to stand. He looked around to get his bearings. The office had been cleaned, the chaos organized, and all the books returned to their shelves.

  "Your girl is doing fine," Charlie was saying. "Luckily it was only a nasty bruise. She'll have her arm in a sling for a while as it heals, but she'll get better. They sedated her so she wouldn't feel it while they examined it, so she's asleep now."

  Damien could only nod. The words he tried to say felt thick in his throat. Something held him to the chair, and he couldn't move, like in a nightmare where something chased him, but he was rooted to the spot.

  "And Maggie is on her way here. She sent Persephone back to the C.U. in Demeter's care."

  "Okay." The word crawled out of his mouth.

  "So now we're back to square one, trying to find out who did this and why. The were-bats were no use, of course. My aim was too good, but I couldn't have them biting anyone. Their bodies disintegrated as soon as the sun came up. They're practically unintelligible anyway."

  Damien shrugged. He didn't care about were-things, he just wanted Charlie to stop talking so he could figure out what he needed to tell him, why his brain had become paralyzed like his body. Then he could get home, into his bed, and away from the hospital.

  Something told him Arthur could have been saved, but after seeing the owl at the foot of the bed, he wasn't sure.

  And if his body is still alive, is he brain dead? Will he ever be the same? How does he know Audrey, and what did he mean, protect her? What is he, really?

  "So you've gotten, what? Two hours of sleep, three tops for the past couple of nights, huh?" Charlie plopped in one of the armchairs on the other side of the desk. "No wonder you look like hell. At least your eyes aren't leaking anymore."

  "For gods' sake, Charlie, give the man a break." Maggie strode into the room. "He's had a rough past few hours."

  Maggie! I'm supposed to tell her something to do with Arthur.

  "Can't you see he's overwhelmed and grieving? Even I'm not sure if Rizzo's going to make it. That was a big risk he took, and for Hera to bump him out like that…" She balled her hands into fists. "Those meddling bitches. The lives of others mean nothing to them. Nothing!"

  Damien stared at her, open-mouthed. So did Charlie, who stood and cupped her shoulders with his hands. He tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes, and the tight muscles in her jaw relaxed.

  "I know you're upset," he told her, "but we have work to do, darlin'."

  "Right." She took a deep breath and relaxed her fists. She also stepped back from Charlie, who wasn't quick enough to hide the disappointment that flashed over his face.

  She didn't seem to notice, or if she did, ignored him. "I wish I had known she wanted to meet with the two of you. I'm sorry, Damien, I could have stopped her."

  Damien almost felt sorry for Charlie, but he couldn't allow whatever was going on between the two of them to distract him. "From doing what?"

  "From almost killing him, and the almost isn't a guarantee right now. But you have a message, don't you?" She brushed the hair back from his forehead and looked into his eyes. She had taken her lenses off, and her eyes shone gold. They drew him into their comfort and warmth.

  "I have a message," he repeated. His mind floated on a warm pool of honey, his thoughts going out from his head like threads on the surface.

  "Something from a goddess?"

  "A goddess. Beautiful diamonds." And a big spider, but that's not what she wanted to know.

  "What did she say?"

  "That Zeus is up to something. A mortal is helping. Boundaries erode. We're all in danger. More girls are missing, and she fears for the Twelve."

  "As we suspected," Maggie murmured. She blinked, and the spell was broken. She returned her purple glasses to her nose.

  "All right, then, sweetie," she whispered. "Go check on your girl. She can comfort you and probably needs it herself." She combed her fingers through his hair—oh, that feels good—and his eyelids grew heavy, although he still sat in Rizzo's office chair.

  This time when he slept, he dreamed of a secluded spot by a rushing river where glowing yellow eyes watched him from the mist.

  The pain in Audrey's back and shoulder finally subsided to a dull ache. The dim light in the room where they'd taken her for x-rays had soothed her into closing her eyes, for just a moment. Ah, blessed medications, she thought. She floated in a gentle mist, and she heard music, some sort of classical, but the instruments didn't sound familiar. A breeze caressed her face.

  "If this is some sort of dream journey, I'm not interested," she murmured. "See? I'm not opening my eyes."

  "Well, darlin', if you don't open your eyes, you can't see fabulous me again."

  Audrey peeked, hoping she wouldn't be on Olympus again. Nope. Candles sparkled on a thousand amethyst crystals in Zinfandel's cave. She floated a foot off the ground on what looked like a pillow of mist, but which felt like she'd always imagined a cloud would: infinitely softer and fluffier than any human-made pillows, but still substantive enough to support her. She maneuvered herself so that her feet touched the ground, and the mist gently dissipated to allow her to sit on the grassy floor, her back against the wall.

  "What was that?"

  "An
air elemental who owed me a favor," Zin said. "I told him you'd been hurt in your waking world and that you'd need a little Zin-style T.L.C." He snorted. "And he said he'd rather support your frame than my fat ass any day."

  She hid a smile. "Yeah, I definitely need something. It's been quite a day."

  "Mmm, I'm sure. You've seen and heard more in a day than most of your kind will experience in their wildest dreams in a lifetime."

  "I could've done without most of it, to be honest." She looked down at her hands and blinked back tears. The helplessness rushed back, and she focused on where she sat. She hadn't felt like that since the night when…

  No, she couldn't think about that right now. One trauma was enough for the day.

  Zinfandel handed her a cup of steaming liquid. "Like what? The vampires and were-bats?"

  She breathed in the fragrant steam with a shuddering breath. Green tea chai, her favorite. "Would you believe I'm more bothered by the fact that Damien had to come and rescue me? I don't need a knight in shining armor."

  "Ooh, that handsome policeman? Why in the world would that bother you, darlin'?"

  Why wouldn't it? But she decided not to be snippy with her host. "It's hard to explain. I prefer to take care of myself."

  "Well, honey, I'm afraid you're in his debt now. He's better for you than that med student you're dating, as cute as he is. Just like a little surfer boy."

  "Kyle? Yeah. I know I need to do something about him, as boring as he seems." She looked at her tea, not wanting to meet Zin's eyes.

  The dragon snorted, and twin plumes of smoke came out of his nostrils. "Let's just say there's been more than your sand in his trunks lately."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" But she knew. She'd called him from the E.R. and got his voicemail. Then she'd texted him, but he hadn't responded in spite of her putting a 911 in it. And it was supposedly a day off.

  "Just that he's not as boring as you'd suppose. But that's a conversation for a different time and place."

  "Is there something going on I should know about?" Just go ahead and confirm it for me.