Dream Magic

by Michelle Mankin

  As soon as I got Calliope out of that dungeon I intended to use the dagger Hephaestus had made for me. I wouldn’t let Phoebus force me to prophesy anymore. I wouldn’t let him send Giles to cut Fiori again. Phoebus’ attendant seemed to want to emulate his master. Giles already sliced her deeper than he needed because he enjoyed hurting her.

  “But I want to help.” She frowned. “You used to let me. Now you seem to want to go it alone. Why are you shutting me out?”

  I put my hands on her shoulders and pressed my forehead to hers realizing that our time together might be running out. “Because I love you, dear heart. And Phoebus watches us too closely. I do not want you getting hurt.” And if I failed in either of my next tasks I wouldn’t be around to protect her anymore.

  “I can take care of myself.” Her gaze slid from me. She shrugged from my grasp. “I am not a child anymore. I’ve grown up, but just like Leonardo you seem not to have noticed. I haven’t been sitting idle while you’ve been doing all the planning. But alright, Cici. Ok. Suit yourself.” I didn’t miss the petulant anger in her tone or the stiffness in her frame as she turned away. But I would rather her be angry with me than tortured or worse because of me.

  Feeling the insistent weight of responsibility on my shoulders, I pushed open the door, entered the room, then shut and bolted the door behind me. It wouldn’t keep Phoebus out if he was determined, but I hoped it would give me the temporary respite I needed to finalize my plans.

  “Did you check the room?” I asked Stone.

  “Yes.” He inclined his head toward the table where he sat. A listening device lay crushed on its surface. Very soon, we would have Phoebus’ guards for company. I sank into the chair opposite Stone, propped my elbows on the table and dropped my head into my hands. Stone sat silently giving me the moment I needed to think. I used it to come to the only conclusion I had.

  “Phoebus dies first. It’s the only way. With you grounded, I can’t get Calliope out the secret exit.” The Sun King had already tripled the guard at the prison tower because of the Dream Falcon. Not that I even considered such an open action as feasible. Stealth and subtlety had always been the keys to our successes so far, not direct confrontation.

  “Maybe if you let Fiori…”

  “No, Stone. I will not risk her.” Or you anymore, I silently added. Or Cat and Ever.

  “What about the falcon?”

  I stilled.

  “What about him?” I asked carefully, my chest squeezing tight just at the mere mention of him. I would lose more than my own life if I failed. I would lose him.

  “He cares for you.” He held my gaze. “I saw it in his eyes from the beginning. You care for him, too. Stone trusts him. He is strong. You could ask for his help.”

  I could, but I wouldn’t. I didn’t want anything to happen to him. I knew the rules and the risks of the deadly cat and mouse game Phoebus and I were playing. No, it had to be me.

  “I won’t.” I shook my head and pretended it would be just that easy to dismiss the falcon and the beautiful dream he represented. To be with him. To be joined to one so strong. To be protected. Loved. Cherished. I knew that’s how it could be. He had given me but a glimpse and the glimpse was nearly irresistible. But I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted by the slim possibility of a fairy tale ending.

  “Here’s what I need you to do.” I laid out my plan to Stone before sending him on his way with a warning to keep a low profile, to watch, but not to interfere unless I required it of him.

  Craving a shower, I peeled off the designer jacket I had worn to Phoebus’ meeting and stared at the label. Feeling maudlin given the task before me I remembered the days when my greatest ambitions had been to wear expensive clothes like the celebrities I had worshipped in the magazines and to make a living with my voice.

  Por supuesto, fate had given me fancy fashion and a place to perform, but in a warped way, one that taught me how little those things really meant. I would much rather hold the power to rewind time and recapture the things that mattered.

  I squeezed my eyes shut allowing myself a last moment of regret.

  I reopened them, my focus renewed on righting my wrongs. I cranked the showerhead to hot and peeled off the rest of my clothes.

  My sharp inhalation alerted her to my presence. Her eyes had been closed and she had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t even heard me when I had touched down on her balcony. My pulse ran high and my cock pressed hard against the zipper of my jeans after watching her undress.

  I lifted my gaze from her sexy heart shaped rear end and could feel my eyes softly glowing as she whirled around one arm across her breasts the other over her womanhood.

  “Morpheus.” She swallowed as her wide eyes met mine.

  “Cecilia.” I strode directly to her folding my wings in tightly as I closed the space between us, wings that I felt even more fortunate to have after noting the twin scars on her shoulders where hers had once been.

  “Don’t.” She shook her head. “I can see it in your eyes. So now you know. But don’t you dare feel sorry for me.”

  “How can I not be affected, mi corazón?” I had to hold her. I wrapped my arms around her and ignored her squirming attempts to pull away. “Shhh.” I keened softly. “Give me this moment to absorb, to process, to comfort us both when you know that only I can understand the magnitude of your singular loss.”

  “Let go!” Her small hands pounded my chest but it didn’t hurt.

  “Never.” I captured both her fists in one hand. “I’ll never release you. Not even when I am finally inside you. When your breath is my breath. When our hearts beat as one, then I will tell you the rest. That is was you from the beginning. From the very moment I saw you. It will always be you. Only you, Cecilia.” She went completely still but I could see in her gaze that her sharp mind was working through some new equation to be rid of me.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” Her brows drew together in confusion. “How did you get in?”

  “Through the secret way into the Dark City, with Fissure’s assistance and that of your vampire cohorts.”

  “You shouldn’t have come. Phoebus will find you.” Her words were muffled, her face pressed to my chest her warm breaths uneven while my heart thumped with steady determination. She didn’t seem to realize that her actions belied her words. She didn’t want me to leave, but even if she did I wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I hope he does. Then I will kill him and save you the trouble.”

  She lifted her pretty face and stared at me in bewilderment, frustrated tears balanced on her dark lashes. “What? How could you know? Who told you these things?”

  “I spoke with an old friend of yours today.”

  “Leo,” she guessed.

  I nodded and tucked a finger under her chin lifting her head into a better position to see my face. I wanted her to see the truth of my next words. They were important. “You have many friends, Cecilia.” Many admirers, I thought, but I kept that observation to myself. “And you have me now. Phoebus must die on that point we all agree. His sins are legion. He must answer for them. The Council will not condemn us.” Hopefully. “You may strike the final blow if that is your wish, but you will not do it alone.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, yet one tear escaped. When she opened them again there was something in her gaze that had always been there only now it was glistening at the surface. “How can I not love you when you say things like that?”

  “Indeed.” My fingers tightened around her hands. Even though she had just given me everything I wanted with those words I feigned nonchalance. “What other choice could you make?”

  How could he do it? Come in here, make me forget my nakedness while he remained fully clothed? Make me feel strong instead of vulnerable. Say those monumental words and completely rearrange my world with them?

  He was right. I wasn’t alone. The solid proof of that currently enveloped me. So steady. So strong.

  “But Phoebus…”

>   “Leonardo told me many things. Some I had guessed. Some I had not.” He released my hands and curled both his around my upper arms. I flattened my palms against his chest continuing to peer up at him as he spoke. “Phoebus is not invincible, Cecilia. He is strong certainly. But he will not stand against the two of us united. We will not fail.”

  He gave me a moment to process that truth, and as I did I realized that he held me also with his wings, their ebony undersides sparkling with dream dust. Remembering our night flying in the dreamscape I reached to touch before even seeking permission. “May I…”

  “Certainly. My body is your body. My wings are now your own. My heart forever is only yours.” I stopped mid-reach and gave him an incredulous look. “You will come to accept it. I will wait. You may hold onto your denial for a while longer if you wish because I know you have been hurt many times and trust comes reluctantly to you.”

  “Santa mierda.” My lips twitched. “You are very sure of yourself. That I do believe.” His gaze dipped to my mouth and he wore an indulgent grin until the moment my fingers stroked his feathers. They were softer than anything I had ever felt, softer than the one I had held onto for so many years. Softer than my own wings had been and much more substantial, a textured silky covering over a warm frame like hardened steel. His feathers ruffled as I caressed them. His lids fluttered closed, his expression revealing that my touch pleasured him.

  Watching his face, I wanted to touch it, too. So I did pressing soft kisses on each closed lid then dropping more along the unyielding line of his masculine jaw enjoying the rough scrape of his stubble against my lips. He turned his head and captured my mouth with his own. My lids fluttered closed, too, and I gave myself up to his masterful kiss reveling in the sensation. The warmth. The pressure. The firmness of his lips, the wet glide of his tongue sliding against my own.

  When he broke the kiss my grip was tight on the front of his shirt and as I stared at him I noticed that all the individual pixelated colors in his eyes had darkened. “How old are you, Morpheus?” I whispered. To speak any louder might have broken the seductive spell.

  “Don’t stop.” His passion roughened voice did things to me. Good things, incredibly good things. His hands guided my own back to his wings an unspoken request for me to resume stroking. A warm shiver rolled through me. This was intimacy. Not the twisted sexual teasing that Phoebus did to me. The giving and the taking between two lovers. I liked it. Very much.

  “Your wings feel as strong and powerful as the rest of you.” A half-smile tugged at his lips. He liked my words and my touch. His eyes closed again. His response made me feel like I was as skilled as the goddess of love when in fact what we were doing together was entirely new to me.

  “I am sixteen years younger than you by my estimate,” he admitted finally.

  “Have you been flying for a long time?” I asked.

  “Yes. I was born with my wings, Cecilia. I flew before I could walk.”

  “I only flew a couple of times,” I admitted sadly and he opened his eyes. They were filled with compassion. “It’s an amazing feeling.”

  “Indeed. Once I believed that it was a feeling like no other, soaring the currents of the sky. I will take you with me there soon and often. But I am exploring a new feeling at the moment, one I think will surpass any other.”

  “What’s that?” I wondered having difficulty concentrating while he was tracing the column of my neck with light, purposeful flicks of the tip of his warm tongue.

  “That of making love to you.”

  “Pretty sure that’s going to happen, are you?”

  He nodded.

  “So arrogant,” I breathed.

  “Certain, Cecilia,” he rumbled. “Certain of you. Certain of us.”

  “Ok then,” I agreed licking my dry lips to wet them. The gaze he dipped to them positively smoldered. “But making love to me will be better than flying. Of that I can assure you.”

  He grinned. “Perhaps one day we might combine the two.”

  “We can do that? I mean, you can do that? Make love while in flight?” My tone reflected my amazement at the possibility.

  “I can do anything,” he rumbled lowering his head and hovering his mouth a breath away from mine. “I am the Dream Falcon.” He touched his firm lips softly to mine and I could feel the curl of arrogance in them. A seductive arrogance.

  I twined my arms around his strong neck and sifted my fingers through inky hair that was almost as soft as his feathers. I kissed him back with all the emotion I felt for him, parting my lips when he coaxed me to, my tongue sparring with his.

  He slid his skillful hands southward along the sensitive skin of my spine pressing me more firmly into him as he went, unraveling me with his touch and each subsequent deep thrust of his tongue. I shivered feeling decadently wanton with me completely naked and him still fully dressed.

  I arched into his warm solid strength, my aching nipples firm against the smooth cotton of his shirt. He moved his hard thigh between my legs to provide the friction I desperately sought.

  “Your skin is so soft, mi corazón,” he praised against my lips slanting his head the other direction to change the angle of his mouth. A moan slipped from my lips, and he deepened the kiss his wet tongue gliding between them. The needful ache between my legs grew hotter when he sank his strong fingers into my ass massaging, lifting and separating the twin globes while rocking his hard length against me. Just what I wanted. Just what I needed. He seemed to anticipate.

  The movement of his hips matched the way he was kissing me, and it was the best slow dance I ever had. Everything Morpheus did to me was the best I ever had. But I didn’t tell him that. My bed wasn’t big enough for him and his ego if it got any larger.

  I slid my palms over the solid planes of his chest and peeled my mouth away from his. “Morpheus,” my voice was a rasp. “You…I…” My thoughts fogged beneath his heated gaze. My lips were swollen and deliciously stung from his mouth and stubble. But there was a disparity between us that needed to be equalized. I fumbled with the first couple of buttons on his shirt. I wanted so badly to touch him, to feel his warm skin, to press mine to his. “Carajo!” I complained, my teeth worrying my bottom lip as the third button continued to elude me.

  “Let me assist you.” His larger hands covered mine.

  “I want to do it.” I blew the hair out of my eyes and peered up at him through my lashes. “I’m sorry I’m so clumsy. I’ve never undressed a man before.”

  He tilted his head to the side as he looked at me. “Never?”

  “No.”

  “How…”

  “I’ve never been with another. Only Phoebus.” I lowered my head and got the next couple of buttons undone. My mouth went dry when I saw the gleam of tanned skin and the impressive definition of the chest I had uncovered. “I never initiate. I never touch him. It’s always him touching me until I climax…” I trailed off. I had all the buttons unfastened. I had never seen a body like his. Comparing it to Stone’s marble one was unfair. They both had intimidating physiques, but Morpheus’ chiseled body was flesh and bone, every inch of it toned from his wide chest to his ridged abdomen with its tantalizing trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. I was reluctant to release my gaze from the prize that it promised but I could feel some intense vibes from Morpheus.

  “What do you mean exactly?” He trapped my hands to the warm skin of his chest. I tried to remember what I had said so I could answer him and get on with exploring. “With you and Phoebus.” He blew out an irritated breath. “I would rather not speak his name or think of him while I hold you like this, but I think it’s important that I understand and not presume. You said he touches you until you climax. Are you saying that he has never, that you and he have not…”

  “Never. I’m still a virgin.” I flushed while Morpheus’ eyes widened in surprise. “I am too valuable to him as an oracle. He preserves my purity because he fears I will lose my ability to foresee th
e future. That’s what his previous oracle led him to believe.” Even though I was standing naked before my falcon, admitting all the details still embarrassed me. I didn’t want him to stop what we had started. “I doubt it’s true. My parents would have mentioned it. I think Delphi just wanted to avoid his advances. I did too. That’s why I never said anything to the contrary.”

  “Cecilia, it’s ok. Shh.” Morpheus breathed my name the way I liked him to, in a whisper, as if I meant something to him. He framed my face with his capable hands and stared deeply into my eyes, his own eyes dark with desire and determination to proceed. I was glad because I still ached for him and wanted more.

  He lowered his head and kissed me, this time a bruising claiming kiss. A kiss that said he liked the idea that he was going to be my first and that he intended to be my last.

  I kissed him back just as hard lifting my hands to cover his, to press the stamp of his palms more firmly into my skin. His now. Today. Tomorrow. Forever after. I liked that idea.

  He bent me backward over one of his massive arms and cradled the back of my skull to deepen the kiss. The ground disappeared from beneath my feet.

  Literally.

  Wings extended he kissed me as he lifted and carried us both to the bed. He only folded them back in when he had the coverlet ripped away. After he laid me on my back on top of the cool sheets, I came up on my elbows to watch him shrug out of his olive plaid shirt, marveling at the easy rip of the fabric around his wings. He obviously had specially modified clothing made to accommodate them. Next went the belt buckle, then the zipper as he peeled off his jeans and boxers. My lips parted when his manhood sprang free. It was just as impressively large as the rest of him.

  My lips remained parted when he stalked toward me. “I like the way you look at me, mi corazón.”

  “I can see that you do,” I teased, my voice thick with desire.

  The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he knelt on the bed. He yanked me across the sheets toward him and spread me open, fingers digging into my skin as he masterfully pulled one of my legs over one of his thighs and then the other.