Before I Wake (35 page)

They died.

“How much time do we have?” I wanted to have this conversation with my father in private, but Noah wouldn’t let me.

“A few days maybe,” Morpheus replied. He handed Noah a glass of scotch. “Then the reservoir of dream energy stored inside Noah will be depleted.”

This was ridiculous. This could not be happening. “Can I give him energy?” Technically, I could draw power from the stuff, so maybe I could share.

Morpheus shook his head. “No. Our only hope is finding Karatos.”

I rubbed my eyes. “And he’s eluded you again.”

My father ignored my barb, as any good father would. That only made me angrier. “Karatos has worked very hard to come this far. I don’t think he’s going to let go so easily.”

“So now what? We just dangle Noah out there like a carrot and hope Karatos takes a bite?”

The grim expression on his face told me it wasn’t Noah we needed to dangle. It made sense. After all, having Noah was just gravy. This was really all about getting rid of me—the freak who scared them. The freak who was heir to the king they were rising against.

“No,” Noah insisted, understanding Morpheus’s expression as well. “No fucking way.”

“We have to,” I told him. I didn’t like being Terror bait, but I’d rather me than him. “You are so not dying.”

He smiled a little, his eyes warming as he looked at me. “You’re so bossy.”

I could have cried at that moment. Forget how angry I had been when he told me he hadn’t listened to me earlier. I didn’t care about any of that right now. All I cared about was keeping him alive so that I could be angry at him later.

I turned to my father, tears stinging my eyes. I would not let them fall. “How do we bring Karatos out?”

“He’ll have felt Noah’s presence here. He’ll know that you’ve discovered the truth, and he’ll feel cocky over it. I think he’ll come to you, Dawn—without any further prompting on our part. All you have to do is show up.”

I swallowed. The idea of facing Karatos terrified me, but at the same time I wanted it to happen. I wanted to beat that bastard.

“You’ll lift the barriers and give me access to The Dreaming again?”

Morpheus inclined his head. “Yes. Karatos isn’t stupid. He’ll feel safer closer to Icelus’s domain. You’ll have to go there.”

Fabulous. Icelus was my uncle and had dominion over all things disturbing and terrifying. If Morpheus was king of The Dreaming, Icelus was a prince. Karatos, though part of my father’s world, had been created by Icelus, who would protect his creation simply because he didn’t like Morpheus getting in his business. Maybe Icelus was behind this rebellion.

So why didn’t Morpheus put the smack-down on his brother? It wasn’t done that way. Icelus was necessary to the balance of things, just like everything else in the natural order of things. He could be punished, but only if he directly did something that was against the rules—and if Icelus was the mastermind, he was too clever for that.

“I’ll go tonight.” Pop into Icelus’s Realm, hope Karatos showed up, then what? “What if he doesn’t have Noah’s dreams with him?”

“He’ll want to bargain.” Morpheus’s gaze was intense as it settled on the man beside me. “The Terror’s own desires are getting ahead of what he’s been ordered to do. For him, the most important thing is getting Noah, and he won’t want to risk losing that.”

I didn’t want to risk losing Noah either. That was why this whole plan made me want to puke. I was going to be playing with Noah’s very life.

“It’s too dangerous,” Noah interjected. “I’m coming with you.”

I turned my head toward him. “No.”

His eyes lit with challenge. “It’s my fight.”

“No, it’s not. Not anymore.” There, I’d gone and done it. I’d taken any power he might have thought he had. I felt like crap for it.

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

“You’d better go,” Morpheus suggested. “The more time Noah spends resting, the more energy he’ll conserve.”

Meaning the longer his life span would be.

Noah and I rose to our feet. As we reached the portal, my father asked me to wait. “You can go ahead, Noah,” Morpheus said.

“It’s quite safe.”

It was painfully obvious that my father wanted to speak to me alone, and Noah didn’t argue. He didn’t even look at either of us; he simply disappeared through the portal. Morpheus beckoned me closer, and I went, just in case Noah was listening from the other side.

Warm, strong hands came down on my shoulders. I wanted to sag under them, fall against his chest and be a little girl for a minute or two, but I didn’t. “Dawn, I know you’re concerned about him.”

“Damn straight.”

“You can’t bring him here again—not physically.”

“Because of your rules?” I probably looked as snarly and mean as I sounded.

“Just don’t.” There was more to it than he was telling me. Even if the insistence in his tone hadn’t told me that, the pleading in his gaze would have.

“Okay.” I knew then that I had messed up royally on some scale—in front of witnesses—and that somehow Morpheus was going to have to make it right. If he could.

He kissed my forehead. “Be careful.”

I nodded, acting braver than I felt. I wanted to ask him to come with me, but that would defeat the whole “keeping Karatos off his guard” plan. “I will.”

“If you get in trouble, just call for me.”

Sure. If Karatos didn’t cut out my tongue.

It was the determination not to let that happen that kept me from crying as I slipped through the dimensional rift into Noah’s apartment.

Noah and I didn’t speak until I was about to walk out the door.

I had returned to the apartment to find him loading our coffee mugs in the dishwasher. He didn’t look at me, and that was fine. He was angry at me, and I was angry at him and the world in general. In fact, I was angry at the fact that I was so angry. I gathered up my things, which took all of about five minutes, grabbed my coat, pulled on my shoes, and made for the door. I had no intentions of even saying good-bye at that point, I was feeling so wildly resentful and defiant. I’d show him. I’d save his ass or die trying. And then he’d be sorry he put me through this.

But Noah wasn’t putting me through anything, and I knew it. Noah was just as much a victim in this as I was. Even more so.

“Hey.” His voice stopped me as my hand closed around the doorknob.

I looked up as he bounded down the stairs to where I stood. I didn’t speak. I just raised a brow and waited.

He sighed as his hands closed around my arms. “Don’t go.”

Both eyebrows went up. I hadn’t expected that. “I really think I should.” I didn’t want to. What I wanted to do was crawl into his arms and do my best to make the world go away.

“Look, I know you’re pissed at me,” he said, “but I don’t want you to do this alone.”

I eased out of his hold. “I have to.”

Noah frowned, but there wasn’t any anger in it. “You’re right.” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further. The worry in his gaze warmed me a little. “I hate this.”

“Me too.”

“Call me after? Let me know you’re all right.”

How could I stay angry when he said things like that? “I will.”

Then he kissed me. Long and soft, and so sweet I was tempted to stay, but I pulled away instead. Then, before he could tempt me further, I opened the door and walked out into the chilly darkness.

Lola was home when I got there. She was sitting on the couch, watching TV with Fudge on her lap. She looked up as I closed and locked the door. “Hey you.”

“Hey, Lo.” Fudge jumped off her lap and pranced across the assortment of rugs tossed over the hardwood floor to rub against my legs and meow in greeting.

I picked him up and buried my face in the soft thickness of his fur. Somehow, this cat gave me all the comfort I needed without doing anything at all.

“There’s a pint of Coffee Heath Bar Crunch in the freezer for you,” Lola said, as I kicked off my shoes and padded toward the kitchen with Fudge purring in my arms.

Screw the diet. Since it could very well be the last pint of heaven I ever ate, I was going to enjoy it. If I screwed this up, not only could I die, but Noah would for sure.

I wanted this over. I was tired of being afraid. Tired of wondering if Noah and I would have a relationship after all was said and done. I was just plain tired.

“I thought you had a sleepover tonight?” I remarked as I carried my frozen goodness into the living room.

My roommate shook her head. “He got called into work.”

“You don’t seem too disappointed.”

She shrugged. “It happens. I’m trying to learn to just accept things as they come. Nothing I can do about it.”

“You are very wise, grasshopper.” I sat on the couch beside Lola. Fudge lay between us, purring and wheezing as he sucked up the pets and scratches both of us gave him. I ate my ice cream—all of it—while we watched Four Weddings and a Funeral.

Nothing like British comedy/drama to make the world go away for a little while. Plus, it had Hugh Grant. You had to love Hugh.

After the movie, I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. Lola went to bed as well, and I waited a bit before opening the portal to make sure she was asleep. The last thing I wanted was for her to come knocking on my door only to find me gone.

Inside The Dreaming, I was once more confronted with the mists that swirled and snarled inside that world. Tendrils of fog reached for me, hissing softly. The mist didn’t like me. The mist was there to keep humans from wandering the Dream Realm—subconsciously or in physical body—which I think had actually happened once many years ago.

I had a feeling the mist wasn’t simply reacting to the human in me. The mist didn’t like me, period. If it could kill me and get away with it, I think it would.

“Don’t belong,” I heard a thready voice whisper.

“Should have been destroyed at birth.”

“Abomination.”

“Monster.”

It was the last one that got to me. I could have easily believed it. Maybe I would still, but the nerve of that mist—that sentient, swirling bank of fog—calling me a monster when it was no better really pissed me off.

“Fuck you,” I muttered. And then I felt the stirrings of something inside me. It felt like embers in the ashes of a fire coming to life under the breath of an evening breeze. I drew in a deep breath, fanning the coals. They flickered. Another breath, and they sparked. One more, and the fire leaped to life within me. It surged through my veins and along my skin. My eyes grew warm, and I knew without seeing that my irises had lost color and were edged with jagged black.

“Let me pass.” I spoke the words. I recognized my own voice, but not the power in it.

The mist wavered and thinned a little before becoming almost solid once more. It was an act of defiance, but instead of adding to my anger, it gave me an amazing sense of satisfaction.

I guess I had been looking for a fight.

I had brought my dagger with me and now it was in my hand, the moonstone in the hilt shimmering in the silver of The Dreaming night. I held it so that the guard rested against the outside of my hand. I felt a little bit like Norman Bates’s “mother” when I lifted it so that the dagger was level to my eyes, pointing outward like a little spear. Holding it this way made it easier to slash into the wall of mist.

It actually cried out in pain as I tore through it with my Morae blade. Three sweeping arcs of my arm, and the mist began to shrink back, pulling apart to open a path for me. It was a path wide enough for two of me to walk through, shoulder to shoulder. The mist obviously wanted to stay the hell out of my way.

Good.

The duchy of Icelus lay at the end of the path. Was it there because that’s where I wanted to be, or because I had actually entered The Dreaming at a point this close? I didn’t know, but I had a feeling that if I had entertained the idea of having to drive to the duchy, there would have been a car waiting for me instead.

I didn’t go looking for entry to my uncle’s home. This wasn’t a social call, and I didn’t need to be in his house to call down Karatos. In fact, it was probably better that I stayed outside. First of all, I didn’t know whose side Icelus was on, and if he was on Karatos’s, then I didn’t want to be alone with the two of them.

“Karatos.” I whispered the name. Then, like that old game of “Bloody Mary,” “Karatos, Karatos.” Three times fast. That was supposed to call down the very devil, wasn’t it?

Apparently so, because as I stood in a six-foot clearing of mist just outside the walls of Icelus’s manor, I felt a stirring in the air.

And then Karatos was there.

“Little Light,” he said sweetly as he smiled at me like a shark at a seal pup. “I’ve been expecting you.”

I ignored the clenching in my stomach as I met his gaze. “I bet you have.”

“And here you are, strolling through the badlands as bold as brass.” He glanced around me. “I see you’ve brought the mist to heel.” He sounded a little surprised, and I allowed myself to take some pleasure from that.

“We need to talk,” I told him.

His gaze locked with mine—and widened. He saw my eyes. He saw that they were no longer the eyes of a human. “Well, look at you.” It came out breathy—full of wonder.

“You need to let Noah go.”

He hesitated, still staring at my eyes. “No.”

“He’s dying.”

“Yes, I know.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

“It’s not what I’m going to do about it, Dawnie. What are you going to do about it?”

“You can’t have him.”

“He’ll die.”

“You’re going to kill him anyway when you take him over.”

Another shrug. He didn’t seem the least bit impressed that I knew what he had planned. “Probably. Or maybe he and I can learn to live together. We’re very compatible, you know.”

I snorted. “Yeah. Practically twins.”

But instead of looking offended, the Terror seemed amused. “That’s why I chose him, you know. Because of all the rage and violence in those delicious dreams of his. I’ve been watching our Noah for some time. He’ll bring me into flesh, and the damage I do will be lasting.”

I didn’t like the way he said “our Noah.” “He’s nothing like you.”