Dreams of Darkness

by Eve Langlais

  “I agree. There must be a way we can help. Tomorrow night, if Adara is agreeable, I think we should visit a friend of mine, a mighty witch. She might be able to shed some insight on our mystery lady and perhaps even give her something to counteract the nightmares.”

  “This whole situation stinks. First zombies, which means necromancers, then nightmares that can suck a person in, and then missing doctors and files. I’d rather someone pointed me at something I could hit,” growled Logan.

  “That would be too easy, my furry ally.”

  “I don’t mind easy.”

  “Alas, that is not to be. It would seem the deeper we look, the more dead ends we meet.” And the more intrigued and enchanted Titus became. The frailty he’d initially noticed about Adara was a sham, a shell around her true self. Within her, he could sense a core of steel, a hidden strength and courage. Concealed or purposely locked away?

  Everything about her enchanted him, from her subtle, delicate beauty to her sweet scent. He longed to seduce her, to claim both her body and mind, yet he sensed that the time was not yet ripe. Fear, possibly more like terror, lurked beneath the surface. She didn’t seem conscious of it, but in her eyes, Titus could see the recoil whenever he or Logan touched her. Outwardly she allowed it, her body even craved it, but her spirit didn’t like it one bit.

  “I’d ask what you’re thinking, but I’d say that’s pretty freaking obvious,” Logan said, interrupting his train of thought. “Get your mind off Adara for a second and back on the problem. If your witchy friend can’t figure anything out, then what?”

  Titus shrugged. “The answers are available, just locked away in Adara’s mind. Find the right key, and…” He didn’t finish his phrase as a psychic disturbance in the air stole his attention. Adara’s dreaming.

  In a flash, he raced up the stairs and stood by Adara’s bedside. The pain had not yet commenced, but judging by the thick anticipation hanging in the air, it hovered nearby. Before he could question the sanity of his action, Titus touched her—his bare hand cupping her cheek—and immediately got sucked into her nightmare.

  He found himself in Eden.

  My first instinct is to duck and hide. To flinch, for the light in this place is bright. Surely, I will burn to ash.

  However, the heat tickling my skin doesn’t hurt. Rather it warms, heats me for the first time in centuries. I turn my face into that light and bask in it. Tears flood my eyes. Of all the things I’ve missed, the ability to walk in daylight is the hardest to bear.

  But I am not here to enjoy myself. I open my eyes and look around.

  Where am I?

  The landscape around me is lush and unearthly, a vast field of swaying greenery, the fronds feathery light under a strangely colored, violet sky. There are no clouds above me. Nor a sun, just the bright light. On the horizon, I see mountains, a dark line of them marching across the landscape. To my left, there is a band of trees, the start of a forest, the trunks tall and thick. An old grove that, for some reason, makes me shiver, yet there is no cool breeze.

  Behind me, the field stretches away while, to my right, motion catches my attention. I turn to see a beautiful woman striding through the vegetation, tall and slender, proud of bearing with her chin held high. The shocking part isn’t the platinum hair, but the fact that she is the spitting image of Adara. But an Adara who is not yet broken.

  She stalks through the long fronds, a cocky swagger to her step, her long hair a shimmering silver skein of silk that spills over her shoulders down to her waist. The front of it is pinned atop her crown, leaving her features stark. Her high cheekbones, her full lips, and those sparking eyes... Entrancing. This is the Adara of before, and I gaze upon her in awe for she is a veritable goddess, a being of light and beauty so far above my dark self, I could never dare to dream she could be mine.

  I reach out a hand to her. “Adara?”

  She walks past me, unseeing, stuck in a dream loop. I doubt I can affect the course of her memory, but I can’t help myself. I snag her sleeve and, to my surprise, halt her. I look upon her face, and I am struck dumb under the haughty glance of her eyes and the prideful tilt of her chin. As she gazes upon me, her beautiful violet eyes widen in surprise while her brow crinkles in confusion.

  “Who are you? What do you here, stranger?”

  “It’s me. Titus,” I reply, but I can see she does not recognize or remember me in this past version of herself.

  “Get thee gone, sir. This is not a place for men.”

  Her words strike me as strange. “Where are we?” I ask, but she ignores my question and continues walking. I follow her and strive to catch her attention again, but she is now locked on her path, the past forcing her to relive whatever it is that broke her. Changed her.

  I don’t want to see what happens next. To see what happens to make this proud and lovely creature turn into a shadow of herself, a fearful one at that.

  But, at the same time, I must know. Perhaps the answer lies in the pain.

  She strides into the woods, and I follow. It is a dark and gloomy place, full of shadows and ill intent. I hear the sound of crying, as does Adara, and we follow the trail of misery. For a fleeting moment, I see broken Adara, huddled on the ground, weeping piteously, her dark hair hanging in a curtain across her face. A flash and it is gone. There is just the blond Adara, and she fears nothing in this dark place.

  Rather, she looks eager. Her step quick and light. If I did not know better, I would think her a woman going to meet her lover.

  She reaches a clearing in the forest, a tiny hidden dell where sunlight streams, and soft, mossy plants cover the ground. A bower made for a tryst, and where Adara chooses to stop and wait.

  I have no doubt now that she is here to meet someone. A pang of jealousy strikes me. It matters not that this is from her past and that the lover is obviously gone. I covet her and do not wish to see her smiling for another.

  I almost turn away, unwilling to see how this plays out. But I remind myself that this doesn’t have a happy ending.

  Sure enough, a chill breeze brushes past my skin. Adara feels it, too, and she turns, a smile of anticipation on her lips that quickly turns to a frown.

  A demon steps out from between the trees, and I hiss, for of all creatures, these are the foulest, the most unholy, and they truly delight in pain and torture. He is ugly, and I know it is a he, for the loincloth at his hips does little to hide his sex. His body is twisted and grotesque, a true monster with black skin, moist and bumpy. His horns are coiled on his forehead, and the yellow of them matches that of his teeth. His eyes blaze red, true wickedness in their depths. I would know, for I was once wicked myself.

  This brave Adara shows no fear in the face of pure evil, and a coiling dread tightens my belly.

  “Foul creature, you don’t belong here. Return to Hell,” she orders.

  The ugly demon chortles nastily. “If it isn’t the favored one. Don’t you know better than to travel unescorted?”

  “I can protect myself.”

  “Against one. What if you were to face a legion?” The black lips split into a grotesque leer. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  At the word we, I flinch, for I now begin to comprehend the horror of Adara’s past. The reason she wants to forget. I want to look away. I even cry out to Adara, “Run! Damn you, Adara, it’s a trap. Run away.”

  Yet she hears me not and, boldly facing the beast, says, “Thou and thy brothers from Hell are no match for one who has been blessed.” Brave words. And even worse, I can see she believes it.

  Oh, how wrong she is, for hell breaks loose, literally. Demons, so many of them, pour from the forest and drop from the sky. However, in this time from before, she is a warrior, and she draws forth a blade, a shiny length of steel that sings as it leaves her scabbard. She slices a deadly swath through the horde. She kills with grace. She maims with dexterity. The black ichor in the demons’ veins slicks the ground, slippery and gross.

  Yet for every one she fe
lls, another takes its place.

  I can’t stand by and watch. I try to aid her, to fight the demons. My hands pass through their bodies as if I am but an ineffectual ghost. Helpless, I can only watch. Watch and drop to my knees, pain ripping my heart apart.

  The foul creatures from Hell smother her in sheer numbers, their slimy, scaly bodies taking her to the ground as she continues to kick and scream at them in rage. She doesn’t give up. She fights and fights.

  The screaming and chaos abruptly cease. Adara disappears, along with the demons and the forest. Once again, the mist of before surrounds me, but I know what to expect this time. I blow on the dreamscape, creating a wind to clear the fog in her mind. I find her crumpled and broken on the featureless plain, the savagery of her torture skipped over in her dream in some belated sense of self-preservation. She cries, and I want to weep with her like I’ve never wanted to cry, even for myself.

  I do not need to see what happened after the demons took her down. Even in my darkest nightmares I could probably never come close to imagining what they did to her. The true wonder is the fact that she lives.

  I lie beside her on the ground and stroke her cheek as she sobs. “Titus,” she gasps.

  I am stunned she can even think of my name. “I’m here, dearest. Wake for me, Adara. It’s not real. This is but a nasty dream.”

  “Not a dream,” she whispers. “I’m damned. Forever damned.” Then I finally do cry as she says, “Kill me. Please kill me. I can’t bear the pain and shame any longer.”

  “I will find them, Adara,” I swear as the first tears in hundreds of years roll down my face. “And when I do, I shall rend them limb from limb for what they have done to you.”

  I promise this to her even as I know I need an army to back me. I can do no less. I will have vengeance for the one my soul desires, the one I love.

  She exhales one last time as her body relaxes, and I am abruptly thrust out of her dream.

  Titus returned to the real world and shook his head, but he couldn’t shake free the stain of what he’d discovered. At least Adara rested peacefully now, and he could not resist stroking her soft cheek. His discovery while in the dream that he loved her didn’t shock him as much as expected. He’d known she represented something special from the first moment he met her. Unlike cynics, he believed in love, true love. He’d prayed for it, too, even if he’d never admitted it to anyone.

  An eternity alone was a long time, and he’d dared hope one day he would find someone to share those years with. But knowing he loved Adara didn’t mean she would return his affection so easily. Broken, Adara would need time to heal, the wounds of her body long gone but those of her spirit still deep and oozing.

  Don’t worry, my love. I can be patient. Now that I’ve found you, even if it takes an eternity, we’ll make you whole again.

  Titus left the room and headed downstairs, his internal clock advising him that the dawn fast approached, quicker than he liked.

  He ran into Logan, who rolled off the couch and rubbed sleepy eyes. “Well?”

  “The Adara we have is a much different person than the one from before her incident.”

  “I kind of figured that,” Logan replied with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. “Every now and then, a spark comes through. But did you find out who hurt her?”

  “Demons,” spat Titus.

  Logan whistled. “Holy shit. So a couple of demons ambushed her?”

  Titus shook his head. “Multiply that number by ten. Whoever she was, they were taking no chances of her getting away. She was attacked by probably close to fifty demons, and even alone, she took out probably two dozen before they subdued her.”

  Any other time, Titus would have found Logan’s dropped jaw entertaining, but he was still too shaken by his recent discoveries. “Her dream skipped over the actual torture, but it was…” He paused as if searching for a word. “Appalling, even by my standards.” And he’d seen a lot of horrible things in his life.

  “Were you able to find out who she is?”

  Titus shook his head. “Not unless you know of a place with purple skies. I can say, though—I think with assurance—that she is obviously someone of import. Now, I must take my leave, as the dawn is imminent. I will return tonight to see if I can learn anything more.”

  Titus fled Logan’s home, pondering how he could tempt Adara into moving into his place, a more sizable and comfortable mansion with better layers of security. Although, no amount of alarm force, dogs, or even minions would stop a demonic horde should they decide to come after her. But if that happened, it meant the laws governing the mortal plane were sundered. It wasn’t just humanity that would have to fear.

  Because a war with the denizens of the hell plane will mean the majority of people will die. So much for a varied dinner buffet.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Adara woke late the next day and stretched. She’d slept soundly, and she wondered if her bout with nightmares was finally at an end. If so, she owed thanks to the two men who, for reasons she didn’t understand, wanted to help her.

  She left the guest bedroom and refreshed herself in the bathroom before heading downstairs. She found Logan in the kitchen stirring a pot of soup, which smelled heavenly.

  “Mmm. That smells so good.”

  “Morning, honey,” Logan said, throwing a smile at her over his shoulder. A grin that warmed her to her toes and especially between her legs.

  She hopped up onto a stool and swung a foot. “So, what did you and Titus plot after I went to bed last night?”

  “Not much since he went to help you out of a nightmare.”

  Adara’s foot stopped dead. “I don’t remember dreaming.”

  As Logan turned to her, he seamlessly slid a bowl full of soup, with bobbing vegetables and noodles, in front of her. An odd choice for breakfast, but she wouldn’t complain about a decent meal.

  “You might not recall, but it happened. Titus helped you out. Said it was nasty.”

  For some reason, his response irritated her, and she snapped, “No one asked you, or Titus for that matter, to interfere.”

  Logan held up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, honey. I wasn’t complaining, just trying to be honest. We only want to help you.”

  Chagrined, Adara dropped her head and stirred the thick broth. “I’m sorry. This not remembering stuff is getting really frustrating. And it seems the more we try to learn, the less we know.”

  “But we are learning.”

  “Really?” She eyed him. “And what did we learn last night? We didn’t find Dr. Forrester. Or my patient records. We came home with nothing.” Too late, she realized what she’d said. Home. Odd how after only a few days it felt right.

  A smile stretched Logan’s lips. “But we didn’t come home empty-handed. We learned that there is a massive conspiracy afoot to cover up not only your injury but your very existence.”

  “Yet, after going through all that trouble, Dr. Forrester tossed me out there like bait. Don’t deny it. That’s exactly what I was. Dangled in the open for some sicko who plays with dead bodies to come and find.”

  “There must be more to the situation than we know.”

  “Obviously.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Let me ask you about the doctor. You say he set you up. Did you have to check in with him?”

  She nodded. “I have a number to call, but I haven’t used it in days.” Not since she’d hooked up with Logan and Titus.

  “Why not give it a ring?” He pulled out his phone and handed it to her.

  A frown creased her brow. “I don’t have his card.” It had probably burned in her apartment. Yet not having it didn’t prevent her fingers from dialing. Funny the things the mind chose to remember.

  The phone rang as she held it to her ear. Tick. Ring. Tick. On the fourth ring, it was answered. “Who is this?”

  “Me.”

  “Adara!”

  “Hello, Dr. Forrester.”

  “Where are you? Your apartment bu
rned down, and you haven’t called. I was worried.”

  He didn’t sound concerned, more like pissed. “I’m fine. I’m with a friend.” She eyed Logan as she said it and noted him leaning against the counter, looking relaxed until she noticed the light in his eyes.

  “You haven’t shown up to work.”

  “Yeah, that didn’t work out. What with the zombies showing up.” She tossed that out there and waited for a reaction.

  There was a pause, and then a slowly spoken, “Zombies don’t exist.”

  “You should tell that to them. They keep making ghoulish appearances and trying to nab me.”

  “You’re not making any sense, Adara. Have you been taking your meds?”

  “Nope. They burned in the fire, but don’t worry. I feel fine. Better than fine, actually. I’m starting to remember things.”

  The words had the doctor barking, “You need to come see me.”

  “What for?” She twirled her hair. “I just said I’m feeling great.”

  “What of the nightmares?”

  “Totally under control.”

  “Adara, this isn’t something you should speak of lightly. You are in grave danger.”

  “You mean more danger than you sticking me in a store in the bad part of town at night?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. What I do know is that I don’t trust you.”

  “I’ve only had your best interests at heart.”

  Only now, she could see how false that was. “I don’t want your kind of help.”

  “There is so much you don’t understand. I need to see you.”

  “Why? So you can lock me up and feed me more pills to make me forget?”

  “Let me explain.”

  “No. I’m done playing whatever game you’ve got going.” Without a goodbye, she hung up. Then exhaled noisily. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

  Logan came around the counter and wrapped his arms around her now trembling body. “You did great. You stood up to him.”

  “Which could totally backfire if he really is a doctor. What if the men in white coats come to take me away?”