Breaking Normal (Dream Weaver #3) (21 page)

             
“What else would you like to see? I’ve been on most of the rides, so I have all the memories tucked away,” he offers.

             
“Can we just walk? Please?”

             
“Sure, honey.” His fingers intertwine with mine and we meander with the gravel trail lined with bright beautiful flowers in some spots and giant granite boulders in others. Families are scattered about on the sprawling lawn. Picnic tables, laden with summer feasts, draw them all together. Their shouts and laughter coax a smile to my lips. A miniature train rumbles past with giggling children, clamoring for the engineer to toot his horn. But I notice the people’s clothes have changed. No longer in their Sunday best. The women wear pants and children in play clothes, no suits for the men.

             
“I don’t understand. Why do the people look different now?”

             
“I came here a number of times over the seventy-nine years it was open,” he explains. “I’m threading together several memories for this trip.”

             
“Oh.” I’m quiet, reflective as we circle a small pond with an erupting fountain that shoots some twenty feet in the air. Children run by laughing and yelling. Their parents follow behind, smiles wide, out for a leisurely stroll. A young couple ambles past, so obviously in love—all doe-eyed and snuggling. I think of Nick and his young wife. “Did you bring Felicia here?”

             
“Once.” His voice cracks and I wonder if it’s from still-felt grief or guilt. “Does that bother you?” I shake my head so he continues. “We were so young,” he muses out loud, and I watch his memory descend into the past. “It was before we were married. She’d argued with her father about me. Oh, that man hated me.” A small rueful smile lights his face, but the smile is short-lived and plunges back into the depths of yesteryear. “He didn’t know me. I just wasn’t good enough for his social elite daughter. We ran away and caught the trolley downtown and came here to get lost in the crowds and forget our troubles for a few hours.” He’s quiet as we circle the Looff Carousel. Then says, “None of these memories are of that day. In case you’re wondering.”

             
“No,” I tell him. “I guess, I was afraid those memories would be too painful for you.”

             
“Kind of sucks, the whole eidetic memory thing. You remember
everything
.” I nod in understanding. If only we had a magical pensieve to cast away unwanted memories.

             
We stand watching the children dart through patches of colored sunshine from the carousel building’s stained glass windows. They clamber onto the brightly- painted, bejeweled, wooden ponies. They are beautiful, those children and ponies. So innocent. So naïve of the dark and dangerous things of their world. I envy them their naïveté. “Did you know this carousel was a gift from the creator to his daughter on her wedding day?” Nick asks and breaks me out of my contemplations.

             
“Yeah, kinda Spokane 101 there.”

             
We meander to a row of buildings: an arcade, shooting gallery, and a Pretzel ride called Fun in the Dark. “See how the carts look like a pretzel at the front? That’s why they nicknamed it the Pretzel ride.” Nick guides me to a souvenir shop and a rack of Nat Park post cards, each for a penny. I browse through the cards at all the beautiful pictures of the park.             

             
“Back then, the postage was just a penny, too. And all you had to do was scrawl the person’s name and the town they lived in. No address or zip code required.” I huff a quiet, distracted laugh. “Do you want to leave?”

             
“No!” The thought of fully returning to my own head is terrifying. “No,” I say quieter, though I’m sure he can hear the thunder of my heart. “It’s nice here. I like it. People now, I mean in our time, they’re so busy all the time. No one takes time to slow down. It’s nice to see all these families together having fun.”

             
Nick turns to face me and traces the worried creases around my eyes with his thumbs. “Emi? Are you ever going to tell what happened back there?”

             
Reality presses tears to my eyes, but I push them back.
Let it turn.
“No.” Nick winces. “Just more of Thomas’ mind games,” I hedge. He eyes me skeptically. I pull his hands from my face. “It’s fine. I mean, it was bad. But I can handle it.”

             
“You don’t have to ‘handle it’ alone, Em.”

             
“I know. But…”
I can’t even think of the memories without maiming myself.
“…it’s fine.” It’s my turn to wince. Two ‘it’s fines’ definitely equals ‘not fine’. Nick rumbles a frustrated growl low in his throat. I lace my fingers through his and tug on his arm. “Can we just wander around a while?”

             
Nick lifts my hand to his face and plants a soft warm kiss on my knuckles. “Sure, Sweets. Whatever you want.” I know he can sense the vice in my chest. He just chooses to leave it alone. For now. Thankfully.

Chapter 28  Just a Kiss

              Days ticked by. I filled them with long study sessions and taking final exams. Nick broke the monotony with trips to Riverfront Park, the old Nat Park site, where I could still pick up the saturation of the exuberance of the crowds from so many decades ago, and walks to Dead Man’s Creek where Eddyson buried his muzzle in the water and blew bubbles as he snapped at a frog, water skipper or tumbling stick in the current. And Thomas was blissfully absent.

             
“He does this,” Nick explained on one of our creek excursions. The days were now scorching and the heat permeated our skin. Winter’s chill had finally thawed under the summer sun. “But don’t let it lull you into complacency. He can show up at any moment, usually the moment you least expect or want him.”

             
I lifted my face to the sun. “Yeah, well I’m not going to let fear destroy my love of sunshine.” I breathed in the sun-baked air and moaned softly in appreciation of the scent of pine trees and wild summer grasses. Nick gazed at me like he was watching a mermaid, or faerie or some other magical creature. I liked that he looked at me like that.

             
Eddyson’s nose hit pay dirt, probably the odor left behind from the last pup that came this way. Boisterous and loud, he snuffled after it. Impassioned yips interlaced with his sniffing. Nick and I followed along laughing. Finally, the pup struck gold, heisted his leg and, when he was done, marked the spot with a few scrapes of his claws in the dirt.

             
“Do you think he could track one of us?” I asked.

             
Nick scowled. “Probably. Why?”

             
“Calm down. I just think it would be cool if we trained him to find us. Just in case.” Nick harrumphed. “Why don’t you run ahead and hide somewhere in the quarry? Then, I’ll see if he can find you. Once he masters that, we can try to teach him to track us while we’re phased.” Nick scowled again, so I pushed him away playfully and swatted his butt. Then he smiled. “Now go. Before I sic my killer dog on you.” He laughed and bolted away across the crushed quartz of the quarry. I had to take a moment to gaze in appreciation at the lithe lines of his body. But Eddy was having none of it, and tugged at his leash and whined after his friend.

             
“At ease, little man. It’s your job to find him.” I walked the boy in a few circles, then back to the spot where Nick left us. “Okay, Eddy. Find him,” I commanded the pup. Eddy’s nose tracked down the scent. He bayed as he lunged forward, dragging me, laughing, behind him. He zigzagged across Nick’s path, yipping and sniffing on the trail. “Good job, Eddy! Find Nick.” He dragged me around mountains of granite and mounds of river rock, hot on Nick’s trail. As we rounded a pile of cedar bark, pungent and cloying in the summer sun, Eddyson froze mid step, his tail straight out behind him and one paw lifted from the ground. “What’s up, Pup?” But a feral growl ripped from his throat, just as Ari sizzled against my chest. “Thomas,” I hissed. We needed to find Nick. Now. We could each face him alone, but we were stronger together. Thomas’ advantage was his stolen abilities. This one Wraith was as powerful as dozens of Caphar—or however many he’d destroyed over the decades. I cringed from the thought of battered and bruised Caphar, left to die after he stripped them of everything they were. “At ease, boy. Find Nick.” Eddy pressed forward, leapt a ditch, and burrowed through waist high weeds. Another growl rumble out of him as Ari flared against my skin.
We’ve got to find Nick now!
Eddy yipped and lunged down a steep incline. I followed, barely keeping from tumbling down the treacherous slope. The pup bayed and darted around a mound of gravel, then bolted forward, ripping the leash from my hand. I raced after him, into the cleft between two piles of rock. At the point where the two piles merged, sat Nick, stone still, entranced by one of Thomas’ nightmares. Eddy whimpered and nudged under Nick’s arm, as I fell to my knees beside him.

             
“Nick? Come on, honey. Don’t let him do this to you. Fight.” His gaze remained steadfast at nothing, though his mind whirled with a miasma of sound and images. My death. Replayed in a violent and bloody loop of screaming and agony. Grabbing the front of his T-shirt, I shook him. “Come on, Benedetti. Wake up!” The thought of slapping him back to reality flitted through my mind, but that hadn’t turned out so well with Sabre at the laser place. Instead, I brushed away a stray strand of hair and gazed into his eyes—his eyes, that looked straight through me like I was nothing. “Nick? Honey? Please come back.” Nothing. “Come on, baby. We need you. Please wake up.” Nothing. Thomas was capable of weaving a nightmare that lasted for days. What if I couldn’t wake Nick up?

             
I licked my lips in desperation and gently pressed them to his. At first, it was like kissing a cold statue—like kissing one of my movie vamps. Slowly, his lips thawed under the heat of mine and his arm snaked around my waist. He jerked me against him and flipped me to the ground, pressing his weight on top of me. Sharp rocks gouged into my back and I cried out. But Nick’s hand slapped over my mouth. He leaned into my face and sneered.

             
“I’m going to savage your body and mind and leave you to die,” he hissed in a voice that wasn’t his own. I shook my head and pleaded with my eyes, but he wouldn’t be deterred. His free hand clutched my throat until I saw stars, then trailed down my chest for another conquest. Without warning, Nick screamed and lunged away, clutching his hand as though it was on fire. I scuttled away and sat at a distance with Eddy cowering beside me, both of us panting and keeping a wary eye on Nick.

             
Nick crouched, cradling his wounded hand with the other and staring at the ground. Slowly, he rose to his feet, still favoring the hand. His eyes traversed the ground between us until they found mine. I prepared to phase with Eddy anywhere away from him. I had nothing to defend myself. No sai or katana, no taser or pistol. Nothing. And didn’t think I could raise one against him if I did.

             
“Nick?” I squeaked.
Please be in there. Please be okay.

             
He staggered a step forward like a creature from
The Walking Dead
. Then, with the dry dusty voice of a zom, he spoke one word.

             
“Emi…” His body toppled forward and crashed with a sickening thud to the ground.

             
I scrambled to his side and delved into his mind, but all I found was Nick. No Wraith. Just Nick. His mind, his memories, jumbled and mutinous.

             
“Nick?” I whispered as I pulled him into my lap. I rocked him in my arms and stroked his hair from his face. After several moments, Eddyson nudged under my arm and rested his chin on Nick’s chest, golden eyes wide, brows arching and questioning. I had to do something. I had to get him home. But if I phased with Nick, I’d leave Eddy out here alone and vulnerable. And I didn’t think I had the power to take them both. Pressing my lips to Eddy’s soft head, I whispered to his mind.
Go home, Eddy. Follow the path and meet me at home.
The pup’s ears cocked like hearing a strange sound, but he rose beside me and turned toward home.
I’ll see you there in a minute, boy. Now go!
The pup lit out through the quarry, across Yale Road and down the path through my wooded acreage. Tiny dust tornadoes erupted with each paw step.

             
I clutched Nick against me and willed his body to phase with mine. “Come on. Come on!” I raged at myself. Like sands trickling through an hour glass, our bodies evanesced and drifted toward home.
Sabre! My house! Now! Nick’s hurt. Thomas…just come!

             
Sabre phased into the house the same instant I drifted onto my bed with Nick. I laid him gently against the pillows, launched myself off the bed and scrambled to the back door. I swung the door open, expecting to have to call for the pup, wandering distracted by his nose. But Eddy sat wagging his tail and blinking happy, satisfied eyes at me. I scooped him into my arms and kissed his dusty head.

             
“Good boy, Eddy.” I stroked his ears and gave him a treat, before setting him on the couch and returning to Nick’s side.

             
“What happened? His head’s too screwed up for me to get a read. And any memoryprints have been scoured off somehow—like last winter, when Thomas attacked you.”

             
“Shit!” I clawed through my hair, tugging on handfuls of spikes as though it would wrench everything, all of this chaos, into place. But I didn’t need everything fixed. Just Nick.

             
Nick’s fingers unfurled like blossoming flowers in a time lapse movie. Underneath his eyelids, his eyes reeled at some unseen drama that played for his eyes only. Sabre sat by his side, but I couldn’t bear to be too close, for fear he’d awaken in the same mind as at the quarry.

             
“Kiss him,” Sabre commanded after many silent and stifling moments.

             
“What? No. I can’t.” What was Sabre thinking? That this was Sleeping Beauty? It didn’t seem like his kind of bedtime story and doubted he’d ever read it. I broadcast the images of Nick’s attack to Sabre.

             
“Emari…”

             
“I can’t, Sabre! I can’t bear to see that rage on his face, again.” I paced the room while my fingers paced over Ari, resting cool against my skin.

             
Sabre stood and sauntered over to me. His hand pressed mine over Ari’s cool body. “She knows. Only the reality of your touch, your voice, will drive the pollution from his mind.”
Since when did Sabre acknowledge that Ari was distinctly feminine?
“And you know it too.”

             
“Sabre. I can’t. I’m too afraid.”

             
“So, what’s new?” he chided.

             
It was true. The new norm seemed to be riddled constantly with fear. But the source of the terror shouldn’t come from our own side. “Why me? Why can’t you do it?”

             
“I’ve tried!” he growled. “The memories that tore him up were of you. Perhaps his mind needs a reminder of who you are to him.”

             
I barked a laugh. “Ha! I don’t even know who I am to him.”

             
Sabre gently squeezed my arms, his mouth open to words that refused to come out. Finally, he smiled, a wry sort of grin. “Besides, my kiss would only drive him deeper.” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t resist a small giggle. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

             
“What?” I clasped his wrists as his body began to fizzle from the room. “No! You can’t leave.” And apparently, he couldn’t. “Please Sabre. I need you here—just in case. I don’t want to have to hurt him if he attacks me again.”

             
Sabre glared at my hands on him, but I refused to release him until he swore he wouldn’t leave.
Could I really trust any of Sabre James’ promises?
“As you wish,” he grunted. “Now. Release me.” Barely bridled fury flared through his nostrils. My hands dropped away from him. “How the hell do you do that anyway?”

             
I returned one of his cavalier shrugs, then searched his dark chocolate eyes. With still-raging trepidation, I crossed the room and sat at Nick’s side. My fingers shied away from contact with his skin. He laid so still, though violence broiled within him.

             
“Why did you use French—when you asked me not to tell him about the—the vision I had?”

             
Sabre snarled. “Hasn’t anyone told you that the ears don’t stop hearing despite the mind’s conscious state?”

             
I quirked a smile at him, but didn’t turn to face him. My eyes were glued to Nick’s dark, bruised eyes and thick fluttering lashes. “Yeah. I’ve heard that a time or two,” I said wistfully. We were both silent for several long moments, ruminating on our own separate thoughts.

             
A bustling French street market unfolds in my mind. A refuge to secret away a private conversation. Sabre sits at a quaint little café, sipping a coffee and gazing into the crystal blue eyes of a beautiful buxom blonde. He mind-jacks the language from her pretty little head while she flirts with him.

             
“Nick was not with me when I journeyed to France. It was well before his time with me. There are things—many things he does not know of my life before he entered it. And I have danced on the edge of darkness all my life.” Carriages rumble past, the clip-clop of horse’s hooves bounce from the street to the shop walls and ricochet away. “Nick doesn’t know the French language,” he says, returning to a less-formal speech—as informal as Sabre gets. “I hoped the words would bring you some comfort. It can be such a melodic language, don’t you think?” Whimsy colors his voice but reality returns and shadows his features. “Emari Jewel,” his voice is hypnotic. “Your mother aptly named you. Even before you became Caphar, I could see glimpses of the treasure in you. If…when my time comes, I will be free to leave him in your good graces.”