by Casey Hays
Mommy, what’s wrong?
“Don’t be afraid, baby girl,” she whispers as if I actually asked the question and she heard it. But I’m too young for that. “Everything is going to be so much better for you when you wake up. You’ll see.”
Don’t be afraid? Why would I be afraid?
Her words echo in my memory, trying to comfort me.
It’s her tears that scare me to death.
Fifteen
It’s morning. I sit on the edge of my bed staring at my blackened hands. Kane pops his head through the door.
“Hey—” He stops short, moving the rest of the way in. “What the hell?”
I look up, force a smile.
“Hey, Kane.” I’m so tired. Exhausted. My lips barely move.
“What is this?” He takes one of my hands in his, examines it, runs a hand over my sooty cheek. “You look like you just climbed out of an incinerator.”
“Weird, huh?”
“What happened in here?” His wings flutter as he sits and adjusts them behind us.
“I don’t know.” Tears sting behind my eyelids.
“Do you not remember?”
“Oh, I remember. I remember everything.” I swallow, my eyes roaming over the perimeter of my room. “I didn’t sleep,” I whisper.
“You didn’t sleep?” Concern laces his voice. “At all?”
“I couldn’t fall asleep.” And this is an understatement. I was wider than awake with no chance of dreaming. So the things I saw? They make absolutely zero sense.
He slides an arm around my waist, and I’m so grateful for his touch. I sink into him.
“I’m tired.”
He kisses the top of my head. Well, really, he kisses a jumble of wires, but I feel it all the same.
“What happened?”
“Rylin was here.”
“What?
“He was right there,” I point. “Solid as you are now. I touched him. And there were roses floating all over the room.” I stand, turn a circle, painting a picture for Kane to see. “A bird with a tracker around its neck came out of his mouth and—” I stop short. “He told me to run.”
Kane listens. I can’t tell if he believes me. It sounds ridiculous, something right out of a crazy dream. But I wasn’t asleep. I’m sure of it.
“What else did he say?”
“Nothing else,” I answer.
Worry sits all over Kane like the bad dream I didn’t just have. Because… I was not asleep. He stands, hauls me into his arms, his wings, his warmth, disregarding the black smudges of soot I leave behind.
“Why don’t you clean up, and we’ll go talk to Petra.” His thumb brushes my cheek. “Maybe she’ll know what the heck this is all about.”
I already know she won’t. That monitor will tell her I was awake all night. Does it pick up hallucinations? Maybe that’s what this was. I hear that can happen with lack of sleep. It’s the only explanation.
I drag some clean clothes from a drawer, and in the bathroom, I wet a warm washcloth and smear the black film from my face and arms. I can’t wash my hair, which I would love to do. Too many wired protrude all over the place. It’s a struggle to change my clothes through the mess, and I take way too long for Kane’s taste. I know, because he’s pacing by the door when I finally emerge from my bedroom, dressed in sweats and an oversized tee shirt.
Kane hands me a steaming cup of coffee with just the right amount of creamer. I don’t mean to worry him, but it’s a little too late for all that. He’s tense, impatient. Ready to get downstairs and find out how in the world I saw Rylin in my room last night when we both know he wasn’t here.
He wasn’t.
Was he?
I drink deep, disregarding the scorching burn the coffee leaves on my throat.
Kane called Petra while I was in the shower. She meets us in my exam room and takes the monitor box with her while Dara untangles me from the wires and other equipment, a feat that takes nearly an hour. By the time Kane and I make it to Petra’s office, my results are printed and spread out over the surface of her desk. Petra stands behind it, chin resting in one propped hand, completely mesmerized.
“So, Doc,” Kane settles a hip against the corner of her desk. “What’s the verdict?”
“Exactly what I thought.”
She transfers her gaze from her desk to me. I sink into one of the chairs across from her.
“And what is that?” Kane indicates me with a sweep of his hand. “Because she was covered in soot this morning.”
Back straight as a board, Petra hooks her long fingers around the corners of her desk and peers at my readings.
“From what I can gather…” She breathes deep and continues. “You began to dream just after midnight, right here. But this line of readings…” She points to a section of short thick scratches in blue. “This indicates that you were awake the entire time.”
Kane leans forward to see for himself, and Petra disappears from view behind one of his wings.
“I know all of this sounds ludicrous,” she contends. “But what I see is that Jude was both awake and in REM sleep—at the same time. And this by means of natural sleep, not forced.”
I wouldn’t believe what she was telling me—not a word of it—except that I know. I was there.
Wide awake.
“So was Rylin in my room or not?” I ask.
“Not exactly.” She scratches her head.
“Then what?”
“By the looks of it...” She examines the scans one more time. “You invited parts of your dream out.”
“Yeah,” Kane tucks his arms together. “That’s not at all crazy.”
“Maybe.” She crosses her own arms, studying her desk. “But you must understand… if a person’s level of consciousness is keen enough while sleeping, anything could happen. We aren’t dealing with human sleep here.” She pauses, her mind churning. “We know Fireblood hybrids can send an invite to a dream; we know that Firebloods can accept it. There are so many layers in the levels of sleep that we have discovered in our Fireblood research. And Jude, you have stumbled upon this one.”
She sounds excited; I don’t share her enthusiasm. And I have never wanted to be able to control my dreams the way I want to now. The thing is: I have to be asleep in order for that to happen. This? This is a whole new ballgame.
“But I wasn’t dreaming.” I grip the arms of my chair. “I know this, and Rylin was right there, right in front of me. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but I’m almost certain he’s in trouble. He was shaking uncontrollably, his head was bleeding, and—” I break off and pin Kane with my next words. “He hasn’t come back because he can’t. Something is wrong.”
“Jude—”
“I mean it, Kane,” I snap. “You know as well as I do that Rylin wouldn’t just leave and not come back. He would not do that to me.”
Kane’s emotions flicker across his face, and I regret how I worded that—excluding him. It makes Rylin’s part in my life too personal. Too intimate. Too true. Rylin risked a lot to get me here. To get Kane here. He wouldn’t ditch us.
Kane sinks to one knee, his brow frowning at me, like everything I said is due to whatever roams around up there inside my sleepy brain. And maybe he’s right. Maybe, no matter what I experienced, no matter what Petra’s readings say, it was all a terrible dream. But for me… it was as real as this chair I’m sitting on.
“The Contingent did something to him, Kane,” I whisper, because I need that to be the reason. “That’s the only answer.”
Kane sighs, dropping his head. His chest is bare, his wings towering over us as he leans in. It’s strange to see him in his natural form so much, and a panic lights in me for a second. I want to warn him. Suddenly, it seems so detrimental that he’s decamouflaged, and every inch of my beating heart races at the thought. He shouldn’t be out here flaunting his Fireblood beauty. This is something done in private, reserved for when we’re alone, or he’s in the safety of his home.
It doesn’t feel right, seeing him like this, and it doesn’t matter that my own skin burns deep orange. I’m not afraid for myself, and I’m tempted to grab the nearest blanket and throw it around his shoulders. To conceal him, protect him from spying eyes even if it is just Petra and myself in the room at the moment.
“You should hide,” I whisper. I grab a handful of his shimmering feathers, my breath heavy with panic. It’s a real panic too, in a place where we are supposed to be safe, and I suddenly don’t feel any safety for him. Only fear. For how vulnerable I made our situation—his situation—when I sat down at the piano in that bar. The lighting bounces off his wingtips, sending an iridescent prism across the wall, and I clench my eyes closed. This is all wrong.
I’m dizzy with exhaustion, and I’m having a hard time getting my thoughts to make any sense to me, let alone getting them from my brain to my mouth. I tremble, focus my hazy eyes on the people in the room. Is this real?
“Jude…” Kane wrestles my fingers out of his wing, his voice soft. “I think you need to get some real sleep.”
“Can we stick to the issue for a minute?” I ask, working hard to muster up a little bit of energy and a lot more focus. “I am dreaming while I’m awake.” I pause, taking him in. “Am I dreaming now?”
At his signal, Petra punches a desk com and tells Dara to come at once. Kane re-centers his full gaze and complete attention on me.
“That’s a tough question for a guy who doesn’t dream at all.” His voice seems to bounce off the walls, echoing back at me. “But I’m pretty sure you’re awake.”
“How do you know?” My panic is rising, and the thrumming of my heart begins to beat in my brain.
“Because I’m awake,” he whispers, running a hand over my head and bracing his fingers at the base of my neck. “And I’m right here with you in this room.”
The room spins. Am I going crazy? The bright light panels in the ceiling spin. Fast. I slam my eyes closed.
You know that silly, groggy feeling you get when you haven’t had enough sleep? You can’t think straight. You think everything is funny. You can barely keep your eyes open but you’re having too much fun to close them? It’s like this, minus the fun.
“Can I go back to my room?” Tears well. Kane’s face blurs. “I need to go back to my room.”
How long have I been awake? Twenty-four hours? Thirty? I can’t remember.
“We’ll take off today,” Petra says. “I want to compare these to the readings I gathered yesterday.”
“No.” The panic climbs a notch. “I’ll be fine after a nap. I need to keep going.” I clutch Kane’s arm, begging. “We have to find Rylin.”
There’s a sharp knock at the door; Dara enters. She carries a tiny paper cup in one hand, a bottle of water in the other.
“Here, Jude.” Petra takes both from her and hands them off to me. The tiny cup contains two green pills. “These will help you sleep. Don’t decide yet if you’re strong enough to keep working.”
I frown. Strong enough? What is she implying?
“Rylin said you’d help me learn how to control my dreams.”
“Yes, I know. And I will.” Her words are definitive, promising. “We’ll get back to it tomorrow.”
“No. I don’t want to skip a day.” I’m adamant, my panic fluctuating at her words. “Just a break.”
“All right, all right.” She squeezes my arm. “Just a break.”
Satisfied, I release all my breath. I can’t afford to skip one day of therapy.
Sixteen
I don’t want to be alone. Not in this room. I keep looking at the floor, making sure there isn’t a flower to be seen.
I feel crazy.
I won’t let Kane leave. I drag him down onto the bed with me until he has no other recourse but to stay. I nestle into his side. And encased in the safety of his wings that block out the light and the furniture and any possibility of seeing Rylin—or anyone else who might decide to crawl out of my head and into my room—Sleep creeps in on the edges of wakefulness.
Kane is so good to me. You’re probably sick of hearing about it, but I’m going to say it again anyway. He got a full night’s sleep last night. He isn’t tired; he’d probably like to hit that aviary or bust out of the fire escape like he mentioned, but he stays put like a guardian angel. And Petra wasn’t kidding; those pills take effect seconds after I lie down. My headspace fades to black.
But it doesn’t stay that way.
A rapping, tap, tap, tapping in a rhythmic pattern. It’s quiet at first, barely discernable, but it escalates, louder and louder like a mouse in the wall until it rattles me awake. Unraveling myself from Kane’s wings, I pop up in the midst of all those feathers and listen.
“What is that?” I ask, irritated. Man, I was sleeping so good.
The dark wood of the bedroom door seems to deepen the longer I stare. Silence. Then, boom, boom, boom!
I jump inside my skin. Someone is on the other side of that door.
Kane slinks to his feet with a yawn and a flutter. Casual. Too casual if you ask me. As if there’s no danger when I sense it all over the place in this room.
“It’s probably the maid.” He takes a step toward the door. “I’ll tell her to come back later.”
The knocking gets louder, erratic. Rhythmic. It’s not the maid. Kane moves closer; the knocking magnifies.
“Don’t.”
I freeze as the whispered word penetrates. It’s as loud as a scream. I scramble to my knees.
“Kane, wait.”
“It’s fine.” His hand grazes the doorknob. “I’ll just tell her—”
“Don’t!”
“Get away from the door!” I screech.
Confused, he shuffles backwards.
“What’s going on with you, Jude? You’re supposed to be sleeping, and you’re wide awake. Those pills aren’t worth a thing if they…”
“Listen to me, Jude. Whatever you do, do not open that door… for me… or anyone.”
Rylin’s voice, speaking in Jezik, drowns out the end of Kane’s sentence. His whispering becomes a frantic thing. I slam my hands over my ears; it does nothing to make him go away. He’s inside my head—my brain—his words tumbling around with a continuous warning. Don’t open the door. Don’t open it. Don’t!
Hands tight against my head, I examine the room. No Rylin. Kane still talks. He goes on and on like he doesn’t notice me. Like he’s talking to the air. I fall back on my heels on top of the crumpled bedsheets and stare at him.
“Kane?” My hands fall into my lap. He looks right through me. I wave a hand in front of his face. “Kane!”
Pounding on the door, double fisted. I jump.
“Jude!”
I swing my gaze toward the door. Rylin. All along it was him?
Relief washes over me. I bound from the bed and skirt around Kane to answer it.
“Stop!”
My ears ring, like someone just shot my Glock next to my head. I skid to a halt, slamming to my knees in front of the door.
“Jude, let me in!”
“Don’t do it.”
What the hell is going on? Confusion overtakes me as two parts of Rylin war with each other, and I don’t know which voice to believe. Rylin is right there. All I have to do is open the door, and Kane and I will finally get our answers. But…
“It’s a trap.”
“Jude. It’s me. Come on. Open up.”
“Jude…”
I don’t know what to do. So I sink down, back against the wall, arms wrapped around my knees, willing both of them to go away so I don’t have to make a decision.
From my position, I see Kane on the bed, dozing. His wings lift and fall in unison with his chest. A knock. Three raps in rhythmic time. But Rylin says nothing this time. A shuffling as he walks away.
“Rylin?” I whisper.
Nothing.
***
“Jude?” Kane props up on an elbow in bed and peers down at me, confused. “What are you
doing down there?”
“I—I heard something.” I’m a statue, back pressed against the bedroom door, unblinking. Only my lips move. “Someone knocking.”
“Yeah. It was the maid, remember? I told her to go away because you were sleeping.”
“No.” I blink once, my mind working to put the real pieces together. “You didn’t open the door. Rylin told me not to open it, and I stopped you.”
“No, Jude. You went right to sleep.”
He’s wrong. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t.
“When did you fall asleep?” I ask.
“I guess right after,” he shrugs. “I didn’t even think I was tired, but sleep just hit me.”
Yeah. Something hit him. I glance at the spot near the bathroom door where he stood just moments ago, cursing the defective pills that were supposed to make me sleep. Funny thing is… I don’t know if I slept or if I didn’t. Reality and dreams are getting pretty muddled.
“Rylin was on the other side of that door,” I insist, pointing. “And for some reason he does not want me to open it.”
Kane frowns. “You were just dreaming.”
“Was I?” I clamber to my feet, feeling an unwarranted anger. “Because I just don’t know anymore.”
I clench my sizzling fists, the heat penetrating and traveling up my emblazoned arms. My body is exhausted, my mind can’t seem to keep things straight, and Kane obviously thinks I’m losing it. It was the maid, he says. Okay. Maybe in his world it was. In mine?
I’m done with this for now. Spinning, I march into the bathroom and dig through my makeup bag.
“What are you doing, Jude?”
“Trying to save my sanity.” My fingers find my ruby ring at the very bottom. With a sigh, I slide it on and go to Kane, holding my hand up in front of him. “Compel it.”
Straightening, he raises his brows. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
When he still hesitates, I lower my hand.
“Look, I’ve dreamt about Rylin twice since I’ve been here. Both times I sensed that he was in some kind of trouble. These dreams, visions, whatever they are? I think there’s a message in them that I’m not getting. Because I’m too tired. I can’t think. I feel crazy, and I can’t tell reality from dreams. So, please...” I raise my hand again. “Compel my ring.”
