Rock Star (Dream Weaver #2) (5 page)

             
Sabre’s chest rumbled with quiet laughter and he heaved a dramatic sigh. “All right, fine. You can have her back.”

             
“What? No. I don’t know him. I don’t trust him,” I retorted. Sabre only chuckled. I narrowed my eyes and glanced between the two men.

             
The man’s eyes softened and he reached a hand to me. “You did once,” he said, the glimmer of tears sparkled in his eyes. “Please, Emari. Just let me help you remember.” He looked away. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I should never have…” His words choked off into silence and he looked imploringly at Sabre.

             
Sabre snorted, but turned me to face him. “Emari,” he paused as he grazed his finger down my cheek. “I need you to trust me. I need you to trust Nick.” He nodded toward the other man. “He won’t hurt you, I promise. He has something very important and very special to give to you. Can you—will you trust me?”

             
Trust you?
The turmoil of opposing emotions tattered my heart, made me tired and yearn again for my home. I nodded and turned to face this other man, this Nick, that I didn’t know at all but somehow, I did know him. His hand extended toward me.

             
“You were there.” I was having a Wizard of Oz moment. “You were the man at my shows.”

             
“Yes,” he said and gave me an encouraging smile that sparked something warm and familiar in my chest. “Please?” His fingers twitched a come-hither motion. “What did you return to her?” he ask of Sabre, but his eyes were cemented to mine.

             
“Very little,” Sabre rumbled. “She mostly drifted.” Drifted—that word was familiar too, in a foggy, distant sort of way.

             
I shuffled forward, the bricks of uncertainty weighing down my feet. As I raised my hand to take the one presented to me, invisible sparks of electricity arced from his fingertips to mine. A surge of warmth shot up my arm; my nerves prickled like thawing flesh. Finally, the heat of skin to skin contact dulled the ache and immersed me in comfort. My fear evanesced, and memories of who I once was, who I truly was, coalesced in my mind. My life felt like a puzzle, mostly completed with pieces missing in a jumbled mess. Recollections I had forgotten—been made to forget—plunged into my mind. Their ferocity snowed me under like a January blizzard. This enigma that had caused me so much confusion and grief, fell together; the blank pieces developed into pictures and dropped into their places of their own accord.

             
I gazed up into his eyes. “Nick?” His name, a strangled sound, quiet and desperate; as much breath as word.

             
“Yes.”

             
“I remember.”

             
“Emi.”

             
My throat suddenly slammed shut and every memory of him came raging back to me at once, as though a dam had breached; its waters spilling ravenously into the thirsty reservoir below. The flood of images overwhelmed me. Nick was my angel, my aegis, my protector. He chased away the nightmares after the crash that killed my parents. And again after the rape. He—and Sabre—were Caphar, Dream Weavers; an ancient race of immortals with the power to command memories and dreams.

             
My heart clenched with emotion and squeezed tears to my eyes. Impulse, pure instinct tore at me to throw myself into his strong arms, let them enfold me. Anguish swirled and radiated from my chest, pulsing through my brain.
You promised!
I loved this man. Nick. My heart had entangled itself with his. He promised he would never leave me—my greatest fear since the death of parents, last year.
You promised!
But he did. He left me, all alone, with not even the memory of him to comfort me or break my heart. A savage heat pressed through me as memory built upon memory to reveal the truth.

             
My Irish ancestry flared, red and hot like the spikes of my hair. I pulled away, cocked back my arm, balled my fist—and slammed it, with a satisfying crunch—right into Nick’s nose.

             
“You sonofabitch!” I screamed. Electricity stormed around me, binding my arms to my sides. “Let me go!” I struggled against the vice of Sabre’s arms. I felt the rumble of his chest as he chuckled at me. “Let me go!” Sabre held firm. “Why?” I screeched at Nick. “What gave you the right? Who the hell do you think you are?”

             
It was then I saw beyond the rage, the blood that gushed from Nick’s nose unstaunched, and gazed into those nebulous eyes as they clouded with grief. I stopped struggling against Sabre’s grip, and choked out a sob.

             
“Get yourself cleaned up,” Sabre growled.

             
Nick’s eyes found mine as he hesitantly stepped forward. “Em…”

             
My muscles stiffened and I snarled at him, a wounded creature warning against approach. Sabre’s grip loosened on my arms, as though he hoped I’d cold-cock Nick one more time. Nick’s body drew back with a glimmer, like glitter swirling in water. And then, he was gone. Sabre’s arms fell away from me and he retreated to the desk, where he leaned on the edge and folded his arms across his chest.

             
“And you!” I rounded on him. “How could you let him do that to me? How could you let him erase my memories like that?” My last memories of either of them were in the aftermath of devastation after the Wraith, Thomas, attacked me in my home.

             
Sabre raised his hands in defense. “Whoa there, chica. I was the one who opposed it. But Nick figures you’re marked territory, that he gets to call the shots. I was just biding my time. I knew you’d drift eventually and come looking for us.”

             
Yes, now I remembered that word.
Drift.
They guys used it when memories leaked. Which seemed to happen a lot around me. At the moment, my heat was rapidly subsiding and a chill shuddered through my body. I shivered and wobbled on my feet. Sabre swirled in beside me and held me up. “Here. Come sit down.” Sabre slid his arm around my waist and guided me to a chair, just as Nick shimmered back into the room. “Get a blanket,” Sabre ordered. He was good at that grouchy facade, and I had to admit, I found it a little centering.

             
Nick faded out and returned to drape a fleecy blanket around my shoulders and back-pedal away. “It was too much,” I heard Nick mumble.

             
“You can leave now,” I spat at him, not quite ready yet to forgive and forget.

             
“Will she be okay?” His words were grievously quiet.

             
“Probably.”

             
“Probably?”

             
Sabre turned on Nick. “Yeah. If she doesn’t get life in prison for killing you. OUT!”

             
Nick cast a furtive look in my direction and once again, faded from the room.

*          *          *

              “So, why the life of a rock star?” I questioned Sabre over the rim of a steaming cup of chamomile and catnip tea. I smiled inwardly.
Meow.

             
“Just worked out that way.” Sabre lounged nonchalant behind his desk. “You used to dream about being a singer, remember?” He didn’t wait for the nod of my head for confirmation. “And I just happened to have the memories of  an old friend who was the singer in a band. It worked out nicely, if I say so myself.” Sabre might be a pompous prig, but at the moment, he felt like the anchor to my world. “I interwove some of your memories with hers to make it more personal. The spider motel.” Ghostly spider legs crawled up my spine. I shivered them away. “The 8150 in Vail no longer exists. Not long after that concert, the city council deemed it structurally unsound. It was torn down in 2007—bouncy stage and all.”

             
“What about the band?” I didn’t recognize any of the other band members.

             
Sabre chuckled. “‘Cuimhnigh’ is Irish for ‘remember’. A play on words and a nod to your heritage. Kylen is the son of one of the girls in The Belles. Jack was the drummer for the band Leonhardt. Drey and Yvy Iusi came from two different places: I found a tiny little memory in your head about a license plate you saw once. The first three letters were Y, V, Y and you thought it would make a unique name for a girl, like a twist on Ivy. And ‘Iusi’ is the name on a headstone down at your favorite cemetery.”

             
I squeezed my head between my palms. “Why?”

             
“You tell me. It’s your dark and twisted mind.”

             
“No, Sabre. Why did you do the weave instead of just returning my memories to me?”

             
Sabre hummed a note that
almost
sounded like regret. “Just another damned experiment, kid.”

             
“And why Jesse?” Jesse was one of my best friends—or, he used to be—before his brother raped me. “Do you realize how bad you fucked up my head?” He shrugged and turned away. “Geez, you really
are
an ass!”

             
A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I’ll get Nick to take you home,” he said, ignoring my grumble of frustration.

             
“Are you dismissing me?” I stood to face him and only wobbled a little.

             
He came to face me and ran his fingertips down my arms. “You’ll have to face him sometime, Emari.”

             
I batted his hands away. “Face him? The son of a bitch wiped my brain.”

             
“On the contrary, his mother was a very gentle woman.” I glared daggers at him. “I cannot speak for him. But, I’ve never known Nickolas to be a selfish man. A bit of a pain in my arse,” he chuckled. “But never a selfish man.”

             
Sabre led me downstairs where Nick sat in silence in the sunken living room. He stood at the sound of us descending the stairs. “Take Emari home, please?” But it sounded more like a command than a question. Nick’s eyes darted to mine and swiftly away, but I was too absorbed in Sabre’s final words—
never a selfish man.

             
My emotions whirled in a tidal pool, some so painful I wished the waves would drag them out to sea. So many conflicting emotions. I remembered the warmth of affection that blossomed in my heart for Nick. But, I also remembered he’d broken into my home and manipulated my mind. I remembered the gentle touch of his hand, the strong, warm safety of his arms—but could I trust the one who loved and betrayed me in the same breath? The one who didn’t trust me enough to make my own choices? The choices he’d so adamantly pushed me to believe in.

             
I allowed him to help me with my coat, but refused to take his offered arm on the walk out to the car. “I’d prefer…I mean…if you’re still shaky, I can drive.” I gave him a curt nod and let myself into the passenger side door. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, and wished I hadn’t. How was I supposed to stay mad at him, when he looked like lost little boy standing out in the cold?

Chapte
r 7 Disturbia

              The ride was short and icy, more frigid than the winter’s snow. My boisterous beagle boy, Eddyson, bayed his greeting and waggled his whole body as I pushed through the back door and disarmed the alarm. Once he was done licking my face and howling his welcome, he squirmed to get to Nick. I let my happiness to be home with my precious teddy-puppy fall from my face. With a scowl, I handed the pup over to Nick. The grief in his eyes pricked my heart, but I turned away.

             
“Oh, my poor baby. He hasn’t been fed in…how long have I actually been gone?” I asked, still not quite certain of the day.

             
“Only about twenty four hours,” Nick explained. “And I came over a couple of times to let him out and feed him. But what about you? You must be starving. Can I make you something?” Nick put Eddy down and came to stand in front of me. My jaw clamped shut to detain the angry words that raged inside me. His warm fingers traced down my cheek and melted some of the frost. “Emi…” The sound of his voice swirled images of my rock star life through my mind; the handsome man, the stranger in the crowd, in the alley on the way to the hotel, before my header into the audience in Phoenix, the amber drop sparkling on his lips. It had all been Nick trying to get to me and Sabre had shut him out.

             
“Why didn’t I know it was you?”

             
“Because…I…you didn’t have any memories of me. And Sabre didn’t want you to. He was having too much fun playing God.” His eyelid twitched with restrained fury.

             
“Okay. Wait a minute. Have I been gone for weeks? I remember at least fourteen shows.”

             
“Reality and memory download are not on the same time frame. Memories that actually took weeks in reality can be transferred in a matter of moments. Hours if you’re doing manipulations like Sabre was doing.”

             
“So it’s not sometime in March?”

             
“No, Sweets. It’s still the beginning of February.”

             
“Ugh! My head is so fucked up. No wonder I’m exhausted.” Nick rubbed my arms in comfort and I pressed my hand to his chest. I choked out the words I couldn’t contain any longer. “Nick? Why did you do it? Why did you leave me like…” The words jammed in my throat.

             
“‘Like everyone else’,” he finished for me, and his gaze dropped to the floor.

             
‘Everyone else’ consisted of Mom and Dad, and now, it seemed, Jesse. But three was enough. I was still hopeful at redeeming my friendship with Jesse—if he could ever stop being humiliated over his brother’s abuse. I nodded, unable to speak, still choked with the raw emotions. Nick fidgeted and a struggle warred in his eyes. Then, he led me to the couch and pulled me down next to him. He was quiet so long I wondered if he was going to answer me at all.

             
“Fear,” he finally said. “Mostly. I was afraid the reason the Rephaim found you in the first place was my fault. Because I couldn’t—I didn’t leave you alone. Even after Thomas rejuvenated, I thought…”

             
“What?! After Thomas what?” I interrupted. Thomas was the Rephaim, or Nightmare Wraith, a dark and twisted version of Dream Weaver, that nearly killed all of us before Christmas.

             
Nick’s shoulders slumped and he lowered his head and raked his fingers through his hair with a dispirited groan. His face screwed up with reluctance. “He got away.”

             
“What? No. I remember. You guys killed Thomas. He’s dead…right? They can’t come back from a decapitation, right?”

             
Nick’s reluctant moan was leaden. “Someone released him. He’s gone.”

             
“Okay. Whoa. Back up the Dream Weaver train. You guys beheaded him. That makes him dead…for good…right?”

             
“Not exactly. Caphar, including Wraith, are able to regenerate for about forty-eight hours after physical death. The spark of the ‘spiritual’ side of us lingers that long after death. Sabre put the body in a metal drum and sealed it. He put the head in another sealed drum. After forty-eight hours the parts should have disintegrated because the energy of the spirit is no longer there to bind the body together, and time catches up all at once.” He huffed a rueful laugh. “Yeah. Kinda like a vampire. But…”

             
“But?” I pressed.

             
“I went out after forty-eight hours. The drums were unsealed. Thomas was gone.”

             
“How does that happen? You said ‘someone released him’.”

             
Nick’s face twisted with remorse. He had to know my heart was banging in my breast; he could probably hear it. My breaths convulsed in my lungs. “It means—there’s another Wraith.”

             
My lungs collapse with a gasp. My brain couldn’t even compute this information. After all we went through to destroy Thomas, not only to protect ourselves but all the other humans and Weavers he could use, manipulate and destroy. “Ohmygod! We’re fucked!”

             
Nick smirked. “Since when did you become such a potty mouth?”

             
“Ha! Since Sabre decided to weave me a life hanging out with crazy rocker dudes.”

             
He raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “That must have been one seriously vivid weave. I only got glimpses. Sabre kept me pretty well locked out. I tried for a few hours to break through, but he’s gotten very good. And he had physical contact with you. I was reaching through walls.” Nick’s eyes were working their magic on me, weaving their spell on my heart. But trust was shattered and part of me wondered if I was being manipulated yet again. I eased myself away from him.

             
Nick slid off the couch and kneeled in front of me. His warm hands encased mine and settled on my lap. “I love you, Emari. I didn’t want to lose you. And then when Thomas disappeared, I stayed close by, just in case. I watched over you from a distance during the day, and lingered over your bed by night…”

             
I closed my eyes to the influx of images that cascaded into my mind.

             
I lay in my bed, spooned against Eddyson’s warm body, my fingers cathartically scratching his fur. The aching pull that he fought to keep himself from touching me, tore at my heart.

              “I was afraid if I touched you at all, even in ethereal form, your captured memories would leech back into you. I tend to leak when you’re around.” He glanced up and quirked the corner of his mouth in a hopeful half-smile. “I wanted to touch you so badly it hurt, but I preferred to be in pain myself than to subject you to more than you’ve already had to endure.”

             
Silence stretched thinly between us as I mulled over his words. Could I forgive him for abandoning me? Even if it was for, what he believed, noble purposes? Could I trust him not to leave me again if things turned bad?

             
“Emari, I’m so sorry. Please…” I muffled his plea with a kiss, sudden and warm. His arms wrapped around me, holding me as if I were no longer a fragile thing. His body shuddered against mine. ‘I forgive you’ warred on my lips but I just couldn’t release the words yet. “My Emi,” he whispered, as he stroked my hair and rocked me in his arms.

*           *           *

              Nick made me a PBJ and we sat before a blazing fire in the fireplace, cuddled together on the couch.

             
“Okay, so you erased all of my memories, but all of my friends met you too. Wouldn’t they remember you and ask me about you?”

             
“That was a bit tricky—tracking down all of those people and deleting the memory of me and Sabre,” he explained.

             
“You found every person from my party?” Nick and Sabre had been guests at my Christmas party just a few short weeks ago. Both had made a lasting impression on all of my guests—some more favorable than others. Ivy had even pursued Sabre—a chase, I’m glad to say, she lost.

             
“Every last one,” he said.

             
“That’s an awful lot of work to go through,” I told him.

             
“I need you to be safe, whatever the cost.”

             
I stood and ambled to the window seat, picked up a pillow and hugged it to my chest. The frosty night outside pressed cold fingers to the window. “Even though I didn’t remember you, I still felt—broken. I sat here and stared out the window and every flurry of snow tugged at me to remember. Every sparkling swirl drew my attention and I couldn’t understand why. But it was you, in spirit, tugging at my memory even across the distance.”

             
“See, I told you I can’t be too close and keep a secret from you.” He grinned a sheepish grin, but the phantom of something dark ghosted into his eyes. He blinked to exorcise it and tiny corrugations crept across his brow. I stared at him wondering. Was there something other than his own guilt that he was trying so desperately to hide from me? He kept the brutal images from his mortal life, images of his wife and son’s deaths, hidden from me. But something else, something new haunted his troubled thoughts

             
I set down the pillow and returned to him on the couch. Part of me still wanted to be angry at him for erasing my memories. But a more primal need for him urged me into his arms. Nick’s body was a thermal of warmth against mine. The tight-wound tension in his muscles melted in relaxation as I traced my fingernails up the contours of his forearm. The sensation of his skin under my fingertips hummed in the deepest part of me. His chest rose and fell in a slow rhythmic cadence, his easy breaths were my lullaby. Sleep drifted over me like a fog over the Spokane River on a cold October night. Cool, dense and nebulous. I always loved October fog that set the town in ghostly white. The kiss of the haze on my cheeks prickled my skin with a cool, sensual caress.

             
Another October fog encompassed my cottage and trembled with the vibrations of music blaring from the windows. An aura of light surrounded my home like a celestial beacon; a subtle breeze stirred my hair. But it wasn’t my hair. It was Nick’s. He stood at the precipice of light, his eyes roamed the compound, his heart searched my home.               No more night terror screams accompanied the music that thrummed from inside. Content satisfaction warmed him, but buried deeper, an unquenchable ache tugged mercilessly at his heart.

              I stirred against Nick’s chest, a quiet moan slipped through my lips.

             
“You okay?” Nick whispered.

             
“Mmm. Sure.” Then, the tow of sleep dragged me under, once again.

             
He was there. Again. A warm spring day. My father and I were outside making some repairs on the cottage, that, at that time, I believed was being turned into an investment property. An impossible level of intimacy wove through Nick’s mind. A friendship of sorts that didn’t seem possible. The clutch of hands. My father’s hand clasped in Nick’s. A friendly embrace. My father’s arms encircling him.

              Turmoil shattered my sleep and I squirmed against Nick’s chest. What does this mean? Was Nick leaking again? Or was I just dreaming? Did I wish so much that my parents were here to meet him, to approve or disapprove of him, that the desire infected my sleep?

             
Nick’s body went tense beneath me and he petted my hair. His breath was warm against my skin, as he planted a reassuring kiss on my head.

             
“Bad dream?” he asked and I thought a detected tiny tremor in his voice.

             
“No, I…” I didn’t know what to say. It seemed impossible that Nick might have known my father. Nick hadn’t been around until—right before my parents died. I would have known if he was a part of Daddy’s life. Wouldn’t I? Surely Nick would have told me by now if he’d known my dad. I shook the thought away but the slow rumble of Nick’s heart now thrummed a little faster.

             
“What is it?” Nick asked as his heartbeat spiked.

             
“I don’t know. I’m just confused, is all.”

             
“What are you confused about, honey?” He wrapped a spike of my hair around his finger.

             
“I don’t know. Where you came from, I guess.”

             
“Well, you see, when a daddy loves a mommy…” he began.