by Shona Husk
Both sides waited. The only thing distinguishing one side from the other were the ribbons tied onto their clothes. Purple or yellow. He checked his arm and saw he was wearing purple. But he didn’t know what that meant, only that it must be important for him to know.
Who had he been fighting for? He searched for a point of reference, or a clue about what was going on. Behind him was the castle made of trees. He saw other fairies, with purple armbands. Some nodded as if they knew him. He felt himself returning the gesture but had no idea who they were. He was glimpsing the future, but not yet part of it.
Isaac shivered. This was the only dream or vision he’d ever had that hadn’t yet come true. How could it? Humans didn’t fight in fairy battles. Hell, most people didn’t believe in fairies. Most people had never even seen one.
Again he didn’t wake. What else did he need to learn?
Every time he was here he treated it as a chance to gather intel. To memorize faces, landmarks and weapons. Today he hadn’t dreamed of the actual fight, and yet he knew if he picked up a sword while awake he’d know how to hold it. Some dreams felt like training exercises, but not today. Today it was all over.
Words bubbled around him but he couldn’t make them out clearly, no matter how hard he tried to listen. His visions didn’t come with clear audio. He wished they didn’t come with the cold, or the sweet smell of blood and the bone-aching tiredness that must come from fighting in snow that went up to his calves. Even the air tasted different. Cleaner. It lacked the acrid burn of L.A. smog.
None of that was new. But he gave himself a moment to enjoy the crisp cold and the beauty of a place that existed only in his dreams. Maybe this one would never come true.
Cheering broke out, but he couldn’t be sure if he’d fought on the winning or losing side. Why was he fighting at all? This battle wasn’t his fight, he wasn’t a fairy.
The snow stopped falling, not gradually, but suddenly as if it had been switched off. He almost expected the snow on the ground to melt and vanish. But it didn’t. He wiped and sheathed his sword as if he’d been handling one all of his life.
A woman ran toward him.
Isaac jerked awake. He reached for his gun, wondering what had woken him, only to find his bed empty. His heart hammered and he blinked, disoriented. It took several breaths before he remembered he was in L.A., not Afghanistan. The battle in his mind had woken him, not gun shots or explosions.
He lay back down and tried to find calmness with slow breathing, but he’d been having that dream for long enough to know that wouldn’t happen. It always brought a rush of excitement. His skin tingled as if warming up and his heart was beating fast as if he’d just fought the battle.
He pulled the blanket over him to warm up. It wasn’t all in his mind. With his eyes closed he went through every detail that had been different, or new, to make sure he remembered.
The woman.
He tried to picture her, but all he got was the impression of dark hair and clothes. There was no doubt that she wasn’t human. She was one of them—fairy.
Useful, really useful. He knew what a fairy was as he’d seen a few growing up. He’d researched them as a teen—which was when the dream changed the first time. Since then it had become more detailed and more real whenever his life took a new direction. Soldiering had given him the dreams filled with the grim reality of a fairy battle fought with swords. He knew what it felt like to swing a sword and have it bite into clothing and flesh. To block a blade aimed at him. He clenched his hand beneath the blanket.
The dream was no longer occasional, or once a week, but every night. That it was becoming more frequent bothered him as it was harder to brush aside, harder to pretend it meant nothing.
Perhaps he was finally losing it and failing to adapt to civilian life.
No, he knew he was failing. He was bored, waiting for something to happen. He’d almost considered rejoining the army. But he’d never fit in there either. Not really. There was always something…
He opened his eyes and checked the time. Sleep wasn’t going to return and it was almost five; he’d go for a run. A long run, and enjoy the summer morning to put the snow and fairies behind him. But this time the cold and the feeling of expectation didn’t entirely leave. His dreams were never wrong. Something was about to change.
Other titles by Shona Husk
Fantasy Romance
Arcane series:
Dark Vow #1 and Dark Secrets #2
How to Breathe Fire
Saved by the Trickster
Sci-fi Romance
Decadent Moon series:
Lunar Exposure #1, Lunar Reunion #2, Lunar Dancer #3
ES Siren series (written with Mel Teshco and Denise Rossetti):
Yours to Command, Mine to Hold, Ours to Save
Paranormal Romance
Shadowlands series:
The Summons #0.5, The Goblin King #1,
Kiss of the Goblin Prince #2,
For the Love of a Goblin Warrior #3
Court of Annwyn series:
The Outcast Prince #1, Lord of the Hunt #2,
The Changeling Soldier #2.5, To Love a King #3,
The Tenth Life of Vicki Torres #3.5, The Darkling Lord #4
Singer of Death #5, Taming the Assassin #6
Sex with Strings series:
Kissing Phoenix #1, Tasting Thanatos #2,
Sharing Sirius #3, Enchanting Absinthe #4
In a Bottle series:
Boyfriend in a Bottle, Temptation in a Bottle,
Lover in a Bottle, Rogue in a Bottle
An Elemental Tail
Brightwater Blood
Ruby’s Ghost
Midsummer’s Eve
Contemporary Romance
Secret Confessions: Housewives of Sydney—Meagan
Face the Music
Out of Rhythm
Out of Place
Out of Time
Out of Chances
About the Author
Shona Husk lives in Western Australia at the edge of the Indian Ocean. Blessed with a lively imagination she spent most of her childhood making up stories. As an adult she discovered romance novels and hasn’t looked back. Drawing on history and myth, she writes about heroes who are armed and dangerous but have a heart of gold—sometimes literally.
With stories ranging from sensual to scorching, she writes paranormal, fantasy, sci-fi and contemporary romance. You can find out more at
www.ShonaHusk.com
www.twitter.com/ShonaHusk
www.facebook.com/shonahusk
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