Dreamscape Read online

  Conflicting thoughts and emotions bombard me. Seth? Jason?

  I’m out of my mind. I’ve been here so long, yet I couldn’t tell you how many days.

  Dreams aren’t real, I tell myself again. He’s twisting your mind. He’s manipulating you. He gave you something to make you hallucinate.

  The horrifying part is I don’t believe a word I’m thinking. I push down the anger I have for Seth, and think. What if what he has told me is true? What if he is one of those Onerwhatsits? He’s done his job. He took me to help him save the world. I get it now, yet all I want to do is leave. I don’t care if he is Jason. Jason was a lie.

  The man in the next room is Seth, with his big arms and calm stare. He thinks he has me. He thinks he’s won. Apparently he didn’t get to know me all that well while we were making out.

  The memories of our time together flood me. Heat flames my face, pools in my belly, and rushes all the way to my toes. I tell myself I couldn’t control what happened in my dreams, but it still humiliates me to think he’s seen me naked, at least the dream version of me.

  The truth is I’ve never kissed a boy in real life. I’m a sorry excuse for a girl these days, but I moved around so much, I never got to know anybody. Most boys in school gave me so much berth I might as well have been the Titanic.

  I run my fingers through my matted hair, hardly noticing the pain when they get stuck. I need another bath. When I sniff my armpits, I want to pass out again.

  How freaking humiliating. I passed out. I’m such a wimp. I couldn’t handle all the feelings rushing through me. At least, I think that’s why it happened.

  I shake my head at myself. Whining isn’t going to change a thing. It’s time to do something. First priority is to get clean. Second priority is to get a few things straight with Seth.

  He may think he knows me, but he doesn’t know jack. After I’m done with him, he’s gonna wish he left me alone. I’ll help him find the key to get out of here, but that’s it. That’s all he wanted from me, anyway.

  I take my time in the shower, letting the fruity conditioner linger in my hair. All the while I’m trying to figure out the best way to approach this. I mostly know what I’m going to say to him, but for some unholy reason, I’m nervous. I don’t do nervous, so this just makes me even madder at him.

  Once I’m dressed, I brush my teeth and comb through my wet hair. I’ve stalled all I’m going to, so I look myself in the eye and tell the fragile girl staring back at me to be brave.

  Then I walk into Seth’s room.

  The minute I hear her open the door, I want nothing more than to go to her, to fold her in my arms again, but I keep my back turned.

  The empty sound of the infernal pendulum punctuates the silence between us. Is she staring at me? Not that it really matters. We will spend countless years together. There is time for silence.

  She takes a deep breath, which allows me to gauge where she is. If my calculations are right, she’s standing three feet from my bed.

  “Seth?” she asks softly.

  She must think I’m sleeping. I honestly thought she’d barge in here the minute she woke up to demand more answers, but she’s taken the time to shower and now she’s concerned she’ll wake me?

  I like this softer side of her. Such a shame she hasn’t been able to develop her gentler attributes. Hopefully, here she will feel safe.

  When she approaches, I turn to face her. The deep brown of her hair has transformed to black in its wet state, which only intensifies her wary green eyes.

  For a moment, when our gazes lock, her expression softens. In that moment, I begin to hope. Then she slams a wall up between us.

  “Get up,” she says. “I’m here for answers.”

  That’s my girl. I nod and stand.

  When she takes in my state of undress her eyes flare and her face reddens. She whirls around and marches over to the couch. What is the problem? I’ve worn sleep pants just for her sake. The truth is I usually rest in the nude, but knowing how much she fears me, walking around the house like that is not a good idea.

  When she sits, I take my place across from her. Her skin has gone pale and her eyes won’t stay still. She’s looking everywhere but at me. It takes me a minute to realize I should don a shirt. I stand and she startles. How many times will it take before she trusts me?

  “You must excuse me, Amelia. I’ll only be a second.” I feel her gaze as I walk to the wall by my bed. When I call the door and open my closet, she gasps.

  That’s right. She hasn’t seen the rest of my room. What will she do when I show her the entirety of my realm? A place meant for multitudes that houses two people.

  Before I can pull the T-shirt over my head, she’s at the door peering in. “This is the weirdest house ever,” she says.

  I glance at her over my shoulder and follow her gaze down to my lower half. Is she checking me out?

  “I’ve seen stranger in my time,” I tell her.

  She’s back at the sofa, pulling her legs up in that way she does before I can even get halfway across the room. Her speed is increasing, and it appears she does not realize how much she’s changed since coming here.

  “What would you like to discuss?” I ask, although I can guess.

  Her question surprises me. “How does it work?”

  I glance at her. “Which aspect?”

  “All of it. I want to know what you expect from me.”

  What I expect and what I want can’t be the same thing at this moment in time, but there is always hope. Knowing Amelia like I do, I make no pretense when I answer her. “I still need to figure out the details with my team, but I’d like to start your training. I think I’ve come up with a way you can still aid me while not being in as much danger from the Erobos. I could use your help securing more agents, which can be done while you train and while we search for the key. I’m no longer strong enough to influence the number of people already under my care. I’m going to be straight with you. There is one man I need to acquire, yet he is just beyond my reach right now. With your help, it might just be possible.”

  She frowns, twisting a strand of her dark hair around a slender finger. “So you’re willing to put me in danger as long as it’s not that much?”

  I blink a few times, forcing myself to keep my attention where it should be, away from the slope of her neck and the gray of her eyes as they change in this light. “The risk is minimal, but it is real. With Daegan knowing about you, the moment you enter the Dreamscape—”

  “Hang on a second there, buddy. You said I couldn’t enter the Dreamscape again. Now I can? What’s changed?”

  “Normally, you wouldn’t be able to, but your power is strong. If I taught you how to access a world through your dreams, there is a possibility you could influence the Dream without being physically present. I’ve never seen someone with as much power as you have.”

  She scrunches up her nose. “What are you talking about?”

  “When you were in Richard’s world, you brought it to life. That is why the Erobos came. No world is that vibrant any longer. Those who still resist their influence still have color, but most worlds are sepia or even black and white.”

  “Why does color matter?”

  “The dreamer’s world reflects the life force of the dreamer. Richard has learned to dampen his realm, but he could not reverse your influence even when he used his training. I could be wrong, but I don’t think so. You could essentially wield the same or more power while in a dream state as an ordinary Sibylline could while physically present in the Dreamscape.”

  “But you don’t know this for sure?”

  “It is still a theory I’m hoping you’re willing to test.”

  Seth wants me to trust him. I have no idea how to answer him, and he’s staring at me with those penetrating blue eyes of his, willing my mouth to move. “Okay,” I say. “I’m in. What’s next?”

  He shakes his head. “You are not ready. This process isn’t something you pick up on in a
day. There is much to teach you, and I am eager to get started, but I want you to be certain you are ready to proceed. Once we begin on this path, it will be difficult for me to slow down.”

  At least he’s honest. He told me he’d be honest with me. Maybe I’ve been wrong about him? Maybe he’s been telling the truth? Instead of comforting me, I cringe. Sometimes the truth bites. I nod at him. “Thanks for the warning, but I’m sick of sitting around. I want something to do.” The truth is, I need something to keep my mind off him.

  He walks over to the couch and gazes down at me before he sits beside me. “I’m sorry for not identifying myself sooner. Somehow, I thought your transition to the team would be easier if you considered me a stranger. Here, I cannot go easy on you, and I will not relent until you are ready. Unlike our times in the Dreamscape, training will be intense. Do you understand?”

  I swallow my sudden nerves and nod. “Got it, boss. So how do we begin?”

  He stands up. “Come with me.”

  I chuckle. “Where?”

  He cracks his knuckles, one by one. “You’ll see,” he says, his smile turning mischievous.

  I snort in some air then cough when it gets sort of stuck. It seems I can’t do anything right around this guy, which bugs the snot out of me. I join him and motion for him to lead the way. He makes a stop at his closet and says without turning around, “In your wardrobe, three drawers down on the left, is some gear. Put it on. I’ll join you shortly.”

  I harrumph as I meander into my room. The minute I’m inside, I lock the door behind me. He’s not getting in here while I’m changing. It doesn’t slip my mind that he could just knock the door down like he did before, but the idea of leaving the lock unturned sends a fluttery lump to my belly.

  Hoping I’m faster than him, I wrench the drawer open and stare at black leather.

  Seriously? He’s got to be joking.

  The first item I pull out is a vest. There’s a jacket with spikes on the elbows and wrists. I laugh. He’s sick. So freaking sick, even the pants have the same metal spikes on the knees and around the hem—that might barely slide over my heels.

  I shake my head and hold up the vest. It looks like something Xena would wear. I’m no warrior princess, so I don’t exactly know what to think about all this.

  He knocks on the door. “Are you ready?” His voice is full of eager excitement.

  I smile, then remind myself he’s not Jason. “Give me a minute. I still have to put up my hair.”

  “Take whatever time you need,” he replies, but there’s an edge to his tone.

  Would two years be too long? For safe measure I take my gear and walk into the bathroom. A girl can never be too safe, Justine used to say. I think I’m beginning to catch her meaning.

  Once on, the clothes hug my curves like they were sewn into place. I look good, which isn’t necessarily a good thing in my current predicament.

  I grab a hair band and throw my hair into a high ponytail. Isn’t that what all the kick-butt heroines are supposed to do? I give myself a shrug in the mirror and go to find Seth.

  He’s standing at the door, hand poised to knock when I open it. A sheepish grin slides into place before his eyes travel down my body. I should be creeped out by this, but somehow it excites me that he’s checking me out. I am so lame it scares me.

  His deep voice says words I’m not paying attention to because all I can do is stare back at him.

  He’s wearing leather, too.

  Oh, holy night, this guy is so hot he could char the sun.

  I give him a nod then move to walk past him, but he steps in front of me. “Didn’t you hear me?”

  I cringe because I am so caught. I consider throwing out a just testing you sort of statement, but I inwardly shrug and smile at him, letting smug eat up my features. “I really wasn’t paying attention.”

  He grins, which makes him look like he’s fifteen. He is not Jason. He is not Jason, I tell myself, but my stupid mind isn’t listening.

  He bites his bottom lip, and my heart takes off. Stupid. Stop it. I’ve got to get a grip. He leans toward me and his scent wafts through the air, taunting me to move in even closer.

  Man, I’ve got to stop this. But the problem is, I don’t have a clue how to do such a thing.

  His eyes catch mine, and I’m stuck in their oceanic depths. He gives me a knowing smirk. “I said,” his gaze travels to my feet, “you might want to put on some shoes.”

  My head flies with embarrassment while all my blood seems excited to have a party in my exposed toes. “Um…” I say. Real classy, Amelia. “Let me…” I motion toward my wardrobe and give him a smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  His laugh follows me into my room. I try to avoid my reflection, but it pulls my eyes like a tractor beam. When I meet my mirror self, my skin is pink, nearly magenta even. Not only that, a sheen of sweat glistens on my forehead. Great. Just great.

  How did I turn into such a sucker? I’ve got to get myself under control, or I will never be able to leave this place. I won’t want to.

  Just the idea of not going into the sun again makes my skin paler. I find some socks and throw on my shoes. It hasn’t been more than a couple minutes, but when I turn around, Seth leans against the doorframe watching me as though I’m a video he’s been aching to see.

  Unlike mine, his body language is casual. I march up to him and give him a glare.

  He grins, pumping his eyebrows. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” With a flick of his head, he says, “Right this way.”

  As if we have unlimited time, he detaches his long frame from the door and heads into his room. If I hadn’t already seen his Houdini act, I might have been surprised when he makes a new door appear on the wall opposite his bed.

  For a minute I consider telling him just how much of a jerk he is to let me think this place was so stifling, but how would that be helpful? Besides, the door he’s sprung leads to a hallway. I’m all for seeing the rest of his place. Maybe at some point I’ll find a window to crawl out of.

  Unlike the weird hallway to nowhere, this one leads to a spacious room full of weights and an arena with padded floors. Next he’s going to tell me I have to fight him. Considering how much bigger he is than me is bad enough, but knowing what I do about his abilities, the idea is absurd.

  I follow him into the middle of the blue mat, taking in the scent of rubber and sweat. Great combination. I make like I’m wiping my nose just to get a whiff of hand soap.

  It helps, but it doesn’t take away the headache spreading along my skull toward my eyes. “Why are we here,” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.

  “If you want to cross into the Dreamscape, even in a dream state, you will have to know how to handle yourself. The creatures you will face are many. They are nothing if not resourceful. I will not always be with you; therefore, I must make sure you are able to defend yourself when the need arises. Your gear is designed to protect you. Erobos are not quite substance. The Eros they harbor set them at a slight disadvantage. Erobos loose the hold they have on the Dreamscape when they are injured.”

  I expect him to explain more and he doesn’t. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “The information will be meaningless until you have contact with them.”

  Easy out, if you ask me. I cock my head to the side. My voice comes out gravely. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m not disputing that, Amelia. Trust me. I know what you are capable of. It’s one of the reasons I chose you, but dealing with humans, although dangerous at times, is not comparable to dealing with Erobos. They are ruthless. If they detect a weakness in you, they will attack.”

  The image of the man with the bright eyes shimmers in my mind. Even in my memory, his penetrating stare still leaves me breathless. I shake my head. “Fine. They’re worse than Voldemort. I get it. Just get going already.”

  After giving me a questioning glance, he smiles. “Oh. I intend to. Make no mistake.”

  Amelia stare
s me down, or at least she’s trying to. I suppress the laugh that wants to rise up my throat. She might as well puff out her chest and strut around like a peacock.

  She’s cocky all right, and I like that about her, but I have to break her of this. Overconfidence isn’t something I can allow in her.

  If she rolls her eyes at me one more time, I might just have to show her how unprepared she is. I’d planned on taking her training slow, but reconsider my approach. She’s too stuck on her own abilities. Unfortunately, I know exactly where allowing a hearty ego to grow can lead if left unchecked.

  This life isn’t easy. She’s got to understand that one simple fact before anything else will matter. When I don’t speak up, she takes the opportunity to explore my gym.

  It’s not much—pretty outdated if I am being unbiased, but I’ve found older equipment to be more useful in training than what passes for equipment these days. Oneiroi need to be swift and agile. Even if Amelia can assist us in a dream state, at one point or another she will have to traverse the Metaspace and the Netherworld if we are to be freed. Unnecessary bulk can only lead to bad timing in a hard situation. Fractions of a second can make a difference where Erobos are concerned.

  Amelia runs her fingers along the rope ladder in the corner. My obstacle course would test the stamina of Hercules. Fortunately for her, she is already stronger than any demigod could ever be. She is mortal, but her body has adjusted to my realm. Given enough time, she will be stronger than any Erobos, including Daegan.

  She turns back to me expectantly. “Go ahead,” I tell her, giving her a challenging stare.

  She scoffs, but I see it in her eyes: the hunger. I’ve got to nurture that part of her until it becomes an unquenchable need. She gives me one last glance before she takes off. With the agility of a squirrel, she’s at the top platform doing a victory dance in roughly three seconds. Even though that time is amazing for a human, I will have to shave off a second if she is to be useful to me in the Dreamscape. Her eyes are bright with triumph, and the way she stares at me reminds me of our last adventure together, before I took her.