Weaver of Dreams

by Sparks, Brenda

  The minute their bodies joined something mystical happened, a tangible bond formed between their hearts, connecting them forever. He’d found the other half of his soul, what humans called a soul mate.

  Unable to refrain from speaking with her for one more second, he used his magick to push into her mind.

  She dreamt of mountains that towered above vast plains, their red rock face jutting into the sky. She stood under a large canopy of trees. The leaves of the cottonwood trees fluttered like shimmering fairies dancing in the sunlight. A cool breeze blew over the plain, taking the cotton-like seeds from the trees in clumps. They resembled snow as they fell over Maggie . . .

  She spun around in circles, her arms stretched out from her sides. Dressed in a white gossamer gown which made her look like a fairy princess, she twirled in tight circles, the delicate material pushing from her body.

  Zane approached her at a relaxed pace, enjoying the beautiful sight before him. She jumped in surprise when their eyes met. A genuine smile took her face, lightened her green eyes. He would never get tired of seeing her smile, especially since it was every bit as spectacular in real life.

  “You’re back.” She lowered her arms.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been gone from my dreams.”

  So she realized this was a dream. It still amazed him how much more aware she was than other humans.

  “I’m sorry about that. Did you miss me?”

  “Of course I did, but it’s okay.”

  He circled her waist in his arms. “And why’s that?”

  “Because you came to me in real life.”

  Her honesty shocked him along with the fact she seemed quite comfortable discussing real versus dream worlds, as though she was the one who bounced between the two using magick. Needing a safer topic, he deftly changed the subject.

  “This place is beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” Maggie spared the trees a glance. “It is Zion National Park. I came here as a child.”

  “There is much beauty in your world, Maggie. I enjoy spending time here.”

  She gave him a curious look. “Don’t you mean our world?”

  He blanched at his mistake. It seemed he became dangerously distracted whenever near her.

  “I enjoy your dream world.”

  It was the truth. He did enjoy being with her in her dreams, not half as much as in real life, though, but at least here they were able to manipulate the world.

  He took over the dream, changing it. The cottonwood seeds raining down became snow. It quickly built on the ground when the air chilled. After providing a warm coat for Maggie, Zane morphed their surroundings into something resembling a Currier and Ives portrait.

  The wintery forest stood around them with specks of green pine needles, peeking out from their snowy blanket. The scent of cool, fresh air surrounded them as their breaths frosted in the air. In front of them stood a sleek steed, its shiny red coat a similar color to Maggie’s hair. Attached to the horse was a black sleigh outlined with gold trim, and inside a leather seat, the width of the sleigh, beckoned the couple.

  Zane handed Maggie into the sleigh, the seat creaked under her settling weight. Out of midair, a red quilt formed in his hands. He put it across her lap then got in beside her, and with a flick of the reins they were off.

  Very much aware of the way their thighs touched when they bounced along the snowy ground, Zane found it difficult to keep his thoughts on steering the horse. He turned to Maggie, and his warm breath sent a white cloud to caress her face when he leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek.

  She gazed into his eyes. “This is beautiful. Thank you for making this.”

  Once again she surprised him with her cognizance about her dream. He smiled.

  “Welcome.”

  He saw no reason to hide his part in her dream from her. He doubted she would remember this when she woke.

  Maggie wrapped her arms around one of his, and snuggled closer. Zane could feel her body brush against his as they rode. Each touch sent a rush of desire coursing through him. It didn’t matter they had just made love in the real world. His libido stood at attention, ready to go again with just this slight stimulation.

  His grip tightened on the reins as he fought his rising desire. This wasn’t supposed to become a sensual dream. He’d intended to get to know her. Find out more about her while she seemed relaxed and open.

  “Tell me about yourself, Maggie. I want to know everything.”

  “Well, let’s see.” She settled back in the leather seat, burrowing under the quilt. The cool air rosied her cheeks, gave them a pretty glow under her freckles.

  “I come from a big family. I have four brothers, two older and two younger.”

  “I would imagine that made dating hard when you were in high school.”

  “High school? Ha! They still make dating hard. You should have seen what happened with my last boyfriend.”

  “Really? Tell me.” Zane tucked her under his arm, drawing her snuggly against his side.

  “You don’t want me to talk about an old boyfriend.”

  “I’m not threatened by anyone from your past as long as I am your future. Tell me what happened.”

  “You really don’t want to know.”

  “I don’t want to know or you don’t want to tell me.”

  Maggie sighed, her breath frosting in the air. “Maybe both.”

  He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You can tell me, sweetheart. You can tell me anything.”

  “The last guy I dated was Mark. He and I worked together at the high school. He was the vice principal at the time. We dated for a few months. Things were going fine, except . . .”

  “Except,” he prompted when she let her sentence hang in the chilly air.

  “Except for the bedroom.”

  Zane battled with his anger, trying to keep it from showing. The thought of anyone else touching Maggie made his skin prickle.

  “Mark and I couldn’t . . . we didn’t . . . you know.” Maggie took a deep, fortifying breath. “He didn’t want me,” she blurted out.

  Zane refused to believe that. Maggie was a beautiful woman. Sweet and kind. She had more courage than most men he knew. There had to be a reason Mark wouldn’t sleep with her.

  “Is he gay?”

  A sardonic laugh burst from her lips. “Hardly, he’s dating the female lawyer he hired for our case.”

  “Then the man is stupid for not treasuring the gift he had in you.”

  Maggie swallowed as she looked up at him with unshed tears in her eyes. “That’s sweet.”

  “That’s true.” Zane pulled on the reins, steering them around a large rock that protruded from the snow.

  She graced him with a sweet smile which showed her perfect teeth. “I don’t know what his problem was. Maybe Mark was self-conscious about going bald.”

  “You mean on top of being stupid, he’s also going to soon look like a bowling ball?”

  The quip earned him a charming laugh which he rewarded with a kiss on her forehead.

  “Not really—at least about the bowling ball part. He takes medicine to keep his hair.”

  Zane shifted the reins, turning the horse to take them further into the forest just as a stiff breeze blew over them. Wisps of Maggie’s beautiful hair played around her attractive face.

  “Well that’s the problem, Maggie.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It is well known the medicine to stop hair loss has sexual side effects. It makes men lose their libido.”

  She pushed away from him and sat up straighter, eyes wide with surprise. “Are you serious?”

  “Most definitely. I heard it from a very credible source.” A pretty little doctor who
se dream he’d visited, but he wasn’t going to share that.

  “I never knew.”

  Zane drew her back to his side. “Most people don’t. It’s something most men don’t like to talk about. Not only do they have to admit they are losing their hair, but to also lose their sexual prowess . . . well that’s just adding insult to injury.”

  “So it wasn’t me?”

  “I can assure you it would not be you. You are an amazing woman. Your beauty is enough to make any man want you, but add your wonderful personality and you are the whole package. The perfect woman.”

  “You’re just saying that,” Maggie teased, patting his arm. “But you can keep talking.”

  Zane chuckled and pulled back on the reins. The sleigh crested the rise just as it came to a halt. The scene before them glistened like a winter wonderland.

  Bare trees, their branches heavy with snow, surrounded a crystalline dwelling. The castle, made entirely of ice, stood majestically. Complete with two turrets on either side of the tall, thick doors, the building sparkled between the trees. Around the outer walls of the castle, the notched ice looked like stone, creating a prismatic effect.

  Snow glittered in the noonday sun from the tops of the turrets. The tiny frozen crystals bid the couple a lustrous welcome. A frozen moat surrounded the castle except right before the large, double doors, where a path made of packed snow led to the entrance.

  “What is it?” Maggie asked, her voice softened by awe.

  “An Ice Hotel.”

  “It’s remarkable.”

  “There is much in your world that is remarkable, Maggie. This is but one thing. Shall we enter?”

  Maggie turned to look up at him with curious eyes. “That’s the second time you’ve said something about ‘my world’. What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing.”

  He watched her mind race, could almost see the moment it all clicked into place. Panic took the love from her eyes as she stared at him. Her breath ghosted in the air, exiting harshly from her lungs in quick spurts.

  “What is it, Maggie? You look scared.”

  “You aren’t real,” she accused, sliding as far away from him as the sleigh’s seat would allow.

  “Of course I’m not real. This is a dream, Maggie.”

  She shook her head, sending her reddish-blonde locks flowing around her shoulders. She drew her coat tightly around herself as if a chill raced through her. “Not here. You’re not real. You are just a figment of my imagination. Nothing we’ve done together is real, not here and not earlier when we . . .”

  “Maggie stop. You’re scaring yourself. It’s breaking my heart. There is no reason to be frightened of me.”

  “What are you?” The question left her in a small, timid voice.

  “A man.”

  “Tell me the truth. You are not just a man.”

  Should he tell her? He loved her and wanted to be honest, but how did one tell the love of his life the one thing that could take her from him? Would she be able to accept him, if she knew what he was?

  “I am a man when I’m with you,” he said finally.

  A look of righteous indignation overtook her face as she absorbed his confession. “Where are you from, Zane? Who are you really? And don’t say you’re a man. No more lies.”

  Maggie had demanded the truth, and the Great Spirits help him, he wanted to give it to her. She deserved no less and if they were to have a future together, she would have to be told sometime.

  Zane took a deep breath, blowing it from his lips in an ominous cloud. He leveled his gaze on her, allowing her to see all his emotions there.

  “I’m a Dream Weaver.” Zane reached for her hand, intending to give her hand a comforting squeeze.

  Maggie disappeared before his eyes . . .

  Chapter 33

  Maggie’s eyes snapped open. The image of the man lying next to her filled her vision. The sun shone through her bedroom window, bathing him in a soft light. His lids slid open, his azure stare pinned her where she lay.

  She tried to roll away from him, wanted—no needed some space. His arms tightened around her like bands of steel, holding her to him. God help her, he seemed even stronger today than he had last night.

  “Don’t run, Maggie.”

  She struggled against his hold. “Let me go, Zane, if that’s your real name.”

  “It is my name.”

  She wiggled harder. “Sure it is. Let. Me. Go.”

  Anger fueled her struggles. She didn’t like being trapped, ever, but especially not by a man who had deceived her.

  What exactly did she know about the man next to her? She remembered he had been in many of her dreams. She remembered feeling like she had known him. He seemed familiar, but yet not. Like someone she had conjured from a dream.

  Had she conjured him from a dream? Maybe he wasn’t real. Could she have finally lost her mind and now lived in a dream? Maybe she sat comatose in some insane asylum imagining him, imagining everything.

  It had a certain logic to it. Normal people didn’t have car chases through the city or have a stalker shoot at them. Maybe she’d imagined all of the events.

  Maybe I’m insane!

  Terror gripped her with its sharp talons. Pain wrenched her heart in her chest.

  “You aren’t real,” she accused, pushing against his hard chest. The hurt look on his handsome face was almost enough to make her stop her struggles. Almost.

  “I am when I’m with you.”

  His statement made a spear of panic pierce her heart. She had been right. He was not really a man. He had all but just admitted it.

  His steely stare leveled on her, branding her with the wealth of emotion she saw there. “There is an explanation, Maggie, if you’ll give me a chance to clarify.”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” She couldn’t. Whatever he had to say wouldn’t make sense. This was all some terrible, cruel hallucination. Her dream man had come to life just to turn into a nightmare.

  Tears pushed at the backs of her eyes. How cruel could life be? What had she done to Karma to make it so upset? Time after time, just as things were looking up, life kicked her in the gut—beat her down.

  Was it too much to ask that a decent guy be in her life to share it?

  Apparently, yes, her mind answered.

  Zane’s grip on her eased as her struggles ceased. It would be so easy to give into this hallucination. She was tempted to find solace in his arms, settle for a dream man. Live in a fantasy.

  But that was not her way. She faced her problems head on, no matter how awful they were. She deserved someone real, who would help shoulder her pain. She deserved to live life, not hide from it in a hallucination.

  She rolled away, surprised to find he allowed her freedom. As she came to her feet, so did he, on the opposite side of the bed with his hands up in surrender. He stood between her and the door.

  “Move,” she said with more bravado than she actually felt.

  “Talk to me, Maggie. Tell me what’s going through your mind.”

  “My mind?” She laughed at the absurdity of his statement. “What’s going through my mind—or what’s left of it—is that this is just a nightmare. A stupid dream I will wake from any minute now.”

  Zane shook his head. “This isn’t a dream, sweetheart. This is real. You’re real. I’m real.”

  “When you’re with me,” she spat at him, throwing his earlier words in his face.

  Zane pushed his fingers through his sandy brown hair. “Remember what I told you in our dream just before you woke up?”

  Maggie searched her memory, replayed the dream. She was at Zion, then Zane appeared. Suddenly it was snowing. They went in a horse drawn sleigh to a castle made of ice. She questioned him about being from
another world. He said . . . he called himself a . . .

  Maggie reached for the hazy memory of her dream. When, at last, she recalled his words, she braced her hands on her hips and exhaled a rough sigh. “What the hell is a Dream Weaver?”

  A sad smile raised one corner of his lips. “Good. You remember.”

  “Remember what?”

  “That I’m a Dream Weaver.”

  He said it just as plain as you like, as if she knew what the hell a Dream Weaver was. As though every day someone came up to her and announced they were a Dream Weaver.

  “Fine. I’ll play for now.” Maybe she could find a way out of this nightmare. “What the hell is a Dream Weaver?”

  His heated gaze swept over her body. “Let’s get dressed and then we can talk.”

  In all the excitement she had completely forgotten she’d gone to bed naked. The realization made her feel vulnerable. Maggie grabbed a robe out of her closet, and tied the sash round her tightly as she meandered back into the room to discover Zane had donned his jeans.

  He moved toward her with his hand outstretched, but Maggie took an involuntary step back. His hand dropped to his side, and Zane’s face bleached of color. He looked very much like he might throw up. Well that was just fine, because she had a feeling she might just be sick too.

  “Let’s go out to the living room, Maggie. I’ll make you some coffee and we’ll talk.”

  “And you won’t touch me?” Maggie asked. His eyes flashed to hers, glistening with an emotion she could not name before he looked away.

  “I won’t touch you. Just please let me explain.”

  “Fine.” Maggie marched past him without a sideward glance, her hand clutching the halves of her robe closed at her throat. Instead of stopping when she got to the living room, she continued into the kitchen and began the coffee, not trusting him to make it. He might lace it with a hallucinogen to keep her in this nightmare.