Before I Wake (25 page)

He was carrying a gym bag over one broad shoulder, his lanky frame dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. He had an aikido class today, I remembered.

I smiled back, but the soreness in my face made it tight and uncomfortable. “Think I’d make a good Baloo? You sure know how to flatter a girl, Dr. Clarke.”

His grin grew, squinting his dark eyes. “And I have the social calendar to prove it. You here to see Noah?”

“Yeah.” I gestured to the door. “I guess he’s not home.”

Warren was close enough now to get a good look at me, and the smile melted off his face when he saw the bruising. His eyes widened in horror—and not because I looked so awful but for another reason entirely.

“Noah…” He swallowed and locked his gaze with mine. “Has he seen that?”

“No.” I touched the darkened patch of skin with my fingertips. It wasn’t even that sore anymore. “I haven’t spoken to Noah since before it happened.”

Warren was obviously relieved, but the doctor in him wasn’t satisfied. “Do you need help, Dawn?”

I smiled. Hell, I almost laughed at the irony. Help? Shit, I needed more help than Gretzky had hockey sticks. “Not the kind you think, Warren.” He didn’t look convinced, so I added, “You should see the other guy.” I might be bruised, but I had put a hole in Karatos, and my dagger had the blood on it to prove it.

He chuckled a little at my bad joke. “You’ll have to get Noah to ramp up your lessons.” Then he sobered and gestured to my face. “That won’t be a regular thing, will it?”

God, I hoped not. “No, but I think I’ll have to get my lessons elsewhere.” He stared at me, seeing more than I wanted. Then he gave a little nod. “I have a class coming. Why don’t you sit in? You can help me demonstrate some new moves to the kids.”

“Thanks, but I’m hardly dressed for it.”

“I have some clean sweats in the office you can borrow. They’ll be big, but you’ll be able to move in them.”

Because he was being so generous and because I really did need all the help I could get, I said okay and followed him inside.

It was warm inside the dojo and had the slightly musty smell of a place that had been closed for a few days. I guess Noah hadn’t been back after our…spat? fight? disagreement…either. I didn’t want to think about that right now. Didn’t want to think about Noah or his lips, his eyes, or anything else related to him. I really didn’t want to think about what Karatos was going to do to him.

I was going to have to warn him, however. If I couldn’t do that face-to-face today, then I would have to call and leave him a message.

Hopefully he wouldn’t allow his anger at me to cloud his judgment.

Once inside, Warren dug out the sweats he promised me and went to get changed himself. I changed once again in the ladies’

locker room, and this time came out wearing a sweatshirt that hung past my hips and sweatpants that I had to cuff twice. Warren was six inches taller than I and a fair bit broader—a fact that made me like him all the more.

Obviously I was attracted to the wrong brother. Warren was a much better match for me—not as volatile (or at least I thought he wasn’t), in the same field, and tall enough to make me feel dainty. Unfortunately, he didn’t inspire the same tingly feeling that Noah did. And my heart didn’t give a hard thump at the mere thought of Warren like it did whenever I thought of Noah, the big jerk.

I sat on a mat by the front wall of the studio while Warren’s students trickled in, some alone and some in small groups. There were boys and girls of all shapes, sizes, and colors in the twelve to fourteen age bracket. They had acne or braces, or both, and their hormones were so fired up I felt bad for them. I remembered what it was like to be that age and feel so awkward in my own skin, to want to be seen as something different than how I saw myself.

One plump little girl stood back from the others, who were more athletic and clearly more confident. I wanted to go up to her and tell her that she was prettier than those other girls, that she’d grow up and show them all, but I couldn’t promise that, and so I stayed where I was.

Warren introduced me as his friend, who was going to help him demonstrate some stances and moves. It was obvious from the response that the kids, especially the boys, thought I was his girlfriend. Not surprising then, were the glares I got from a few of the girls, who obviously had a crush on their teacher.

For the most part I just watched the kids, unless Warren needed me. I think he could have used one of the students for the demonstrations more easily than using someone as inexperienced as me, but I appreciated him wanting to make me part of the group.

Afterward, when the kids had left, Warren taught me a few new moves and worked on some that Noah had already shown me. I was sweaty, tired, and laughing at something Warren said, when the door to the dojo opened.

Noah crossed the wood floor, his boots leaving new scuff marks on the faded surface. He kept his gaze fastened on me, and I couldn’t seem to tear mine off him. It was like something right out of a movie, or a book.

“I have some stuff to take care of in the office,” Warren remarked suddenly, almost cautiously. “Dawn, it was good to see you again. Noah, lock up if you leave after I do.”

And that was it, my champion left me to fend for myself with the wolf.

“What are you doing here?” Noah demanded as soon as we were alone. He stood directly in front of me, hands shoved in his jeans pockets, leather jacket bunched and open to reveal a faded gray Henley.

“Making a play for your brother,” I replied sharply, not liking his tone. “What does it look like? Warren was teaching me more aikido.”

He studied my face for a moment. I stood perfectly still while he did it. If he was looking for a lie, he wasn’t going to find it.

“Warren didn’t give you that bruise.”

“It was a gift from Karatos. It says hi, by the way, oh, and you’re the one It’s coming for—after It kills me.” I should have said it differently. I should have been more gentle, a little kinder, but it all poured out of me like a bucket of water kicked over onto its side.

He paled but didn’t say anything, so I kept going, “That’s why I came here, just in case you’re interested. Since you won’t be coming back to the clinic, I had to come here.”

“Dawn, I…”

I held up my hand. “Save it. I’m so not in the mood. You don’t want my help, I get it. But you’d better get used to it. It’s my job to stop this thing, and if that means walking into your dreams or showing up where you don’t want me to be, then I’m going to do it—screw your personal space.”

He stared at me, looking a little startled. I didn’t blame him. I was starting to freak myself out, too, but I couldn’t stop. “I am not going to let It use you or hurt you, so you’re going to be seeing a lot of me, Noah, whether you like it or not. Until Karatos is destroyed, I’m going to be in every fucking dream you have, got it?”

I couldn’t tell if he wanted to kiss me or kill me. Maybe it was a little of both, but he nodded all the same—stiff and awkward.

“Got it.”

“Good. Now I’m going to get back to my lesson unless you have something else you’d like to say to me.”

His jaw clenched as he stared at me. “Yeah, I have something to say.”

I swallowed, some of the bravado leaking out of me as his shoulders straightened. “What?”

He moved toward me, closing the distance between us with a few quick steps. And when there was nothing more than a few inches between us, his hands came down on my shoulders, warm through the damp fabric against my skin.

“I left the sleep study so I wouldn’t be a ‘distraction’ for you anymore.”

I really hate having my words thrown back at me, especially when I had been such an ass to say them.

“Noah…”

He pulled me closer. “I only joined the study because it was a way to see more of you.”

“Oh.” All the breath left my lungs.

He tilted his head, an inky black lock of hair fell over his forehead. “You scare the shit out of me. There aren’t any boundaries with you, no defenses. I haven’t told you half my secrets, and I feel like you know them already.”

It wasn’t meant to be a compliment, but it warmed my insides like one. “I’m not going to apologize—” He cut me off with a kiss so hard and fierce I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I just grabbed the lapels of his jacket and hung on as my knees began to tremble, and my heart raced. I could feel my blood pounding through my veins, feel my nerves tingling in awareness even though only Noah’s hands and lips were touching me. I could feel him everywhere.

I wanted to feel him everywhere. Who was I trying to kid? I wasn’t afraid of giving him my body or my heart. I was afraid that neither would be good enough, and that was just stupid.

I kissed him back, letting him know that I wasn’t about to back down from trying to get to know him better. I wasn’t going to be any less scary if he continued seeing me. I liked being scary.

Noah broke the kiss. Breathing heavy, he touched his forehead to mine. “If I’m stuck with you in my dreams, then you’re going to be stuck with me, Doc. You might be afraid of what’s between us, but I’m not. I know you think you can do this alone, but you can’t. You need me. And I need you.”

It was quite possibly the most words he’d ever said to me in one go. And probably the sweetest. “Okay.”

He arched a brow. “Okay?” A small smile curved his lips on one side. “That means I’m going to kiss you more. I’m going to touch you—and if I can get you into my bed, I’m going to do that as well.”

Maybe I was stupid. Maybe I was desperate. But at that moment I felt a happiness that I didn’t want to analyze. “I think I’d like that.”

If we both survived, that was.

“Move the blade upward, like you’re gutting a fish.” As he spoke, Morpheus gestured with the blade, slicing upward in a smooth fluid motion.

“I’ve never gutted a fish,” I replied, trying to replicate the movement. My dagger may do what I want, and always find its way back to me, but it would be that much more efficient if I knew how to wield it.

“Never gutted a fish?” My father’s rich voice vibrated with amusement. “We will have to remedy that.”

I sneaked a sideways glance. “No, I don’t think so.”

Chuckling, he turned toward me. “No fish then. Why don’t we spar instead. I’ll attack you.”

Now, I had no doubt as to which of us was the superior fighter, but that didn’t stop me from asking, “With real blades? What if I hurt you?”

He looked as doubtful as I felt, the jerk. “I’ll heal.”

I was skeptical, but I knew I wouldn’t come close to hurting him, which sucked because I would really like to have kicked his butt.

It occurred to me then, as it had occurred to me several times since deciding to embrace what I was and use it to defeat Karatos, that maybe I was being a little hard on myself. I was trying to make up for thirteen years of avoidance in a few weeks, but since the alternative was letting Karatos get away with murder—and one of his victims might be me—I didn’t see that I had much choice.

“Um, what if you hurt me?” I asked. That was really the question I should be asking.

He gave me a challenging look. “I guess you’re just going to have to make certain that doesn’t happen. That’s the point of using real blades.”

Fabulous. He must have seen the look on my face because he chuckled. “You’ll be fine, Dawn. I promise.”

How he could keep that promise I wasn’t certain, but I believed him all the same.

Grinning, Morpheus crouched a little, the posture making his midsection a more difficult target. He began to circle me. “Come on, Brat. Take your best shot.”

I grinned back. “I don’t respond to goading, Old Man.”

“Sure you do.” His grin widened. “Wimpy.”

I did attack then. Not because he called me a wimp, but because it was a waste of precious time if I didn’t. He dodged the lunge, but just barely, and I had to stifle the urge to congratulate myself. Almost didn’t count. I was also pretty sure that the fact that I didn’t want to hurt him was going to make me pull back, which wasn’t doing me any favors either.

“Good,” Morpheus said encouragingly. “Next time don’t hesitate.”

I didn’t. I didn’t think, didn’t pause. I went for it, and was rewarded with the sickening feeling of my dagger sliding through muscle as my torso rushed up to meet his.

His eyes widened briefly, then closed tight as he shuddered against me. I drew back in horror. I had stabbed him. I had one flickering moment of victory before the awfulness of what I had done crashed down around me. His blood was on my hands—sticky and hot.

I was going to puke.

Morpheus’s lashes fluttered, then a clear golden gaze met mine. “Rule number one,” he rasped as his fingers closed around the hilt of the knife sticking out of his gut. “Never leave your weapon with the enemy.”

I watched, both fascinated and repulsed—and a tad chagrined—as he pulled the blade from his body just as Karatos had done. I should have learned this lesson already.

But unlike Karatos, my father simply wiped the blade on his shirt and handed it to me hilt first. I took it with numb fingers and watched as he lifted his shirt to reveal the bloody wound beneath. It was awful-looking. So much blood.

He placed his palm over the gash in his gut. I blinked. A soft glow emanated from around his hand. Soon, the sweat disappeared from his brow, as did the furrows of pain. The lines of his face relaxed, and the blood on his skin drifted back toward where it had originated. His body was drawing it back in, repairing itself. When he finally lifted his hand, after maybe fifteen or twenty seconds, all evidence of my violence—except for the rip and blood on his shirt—was gone. He had healed a much more vicious injury in a fraction of the time it had taken me to recover from Karatos.

“That’s quite the talent,” I joked hoarsely. I really was going to puke.

He smiled. “Thanks. It’s come in handy over the years.” He gave me a strange look. “That was good. I never saw you attack.”

I just stood there, dumb and heart pounding. “What?”

“You moved so fast, I never saw you coming.”

It hadn’t seemed that fast to me. “Huh. How about that?”