Before I Wake (33 page)

But mostly, I was bad when the secret was my own. I wanted to share. So was it any wonder that I was having a hard time keeping a lid on several secrets in my life? I hadn’t told my father about the weird thing that happened with my eyes. And I certainly hadn’t told Noah that my father wanted to use him as bait for Karatos. Was it any wonder, then, that I was practically vibrating with the need to unload some of this stuff?

“You okay, hon?” Bonnie asked me at work on Thursday. “You seem a little jittery.”

I waved away her concern. “I’m fine. Just tired. It’s probably too much caffeine.” In fact, I had just returned from another coffee run, carrying offerings for Bonnie, Jose, and one of the kids in the lab. Of course that’s when Dr. Canning showed up.

“Dawn,” he said, expression stern, “can I talk to you?”

Oh God. “Sure.”

We went into my office, me leading the way like a kid bound for the principal’s office. I didn’t waste time once the door was closed, however. I turned and popped the lid on my latte. “Is there a problem, Dr. Canning?”

He studied my face, his own set in disapproving lines. “You were sick on Tuesday?”

Now lying, on the other hand, was a different story from keeping secrets. I was fabulous at lying. “Yes, sir. I was. Spent most of the day in bed.”

“So you wouldn’t have been out on Fifth Avenue that afternoon? One of the girls in the lab could have sworn she saw you.”

I just bet. This place was terrible for backstabbing. Every little intern who came through those doors wanted my position. In less than a week they could have it. Maybe it was that sense of finality that drove me onward.

“You ever get tired of having your ass kissed?” I asked.

Dr. Canning blinked, his pale eyes wide. “I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t you ever get annoyed at the number of people who try to win your favor by talking trash about others? I was sick, Dr.

Canning. And if I was seen on Fifth Avenue, it was because I went to the doctor and had to get a prescription filled.”

He stiffened. No doubt he was not used to people talking to him with such obvious disdain, especially not an underling.

“Do you have the prescription with you?”

“It’s at home.” The lie fell easily off my lips. I was too angry to feel bad about it either. “It’s a twice-a-day antibiotic. I can go home and get it for you if you like. You can have your little friend in the lab follow me.”

That might have been going too far, and if Canning had decided to call my bluff, I’d be screwed, but luck was on my side. Or maybe I had succeeded in making him feel silly enough as it was.

“I don’t like your tone, Dawn.”

“I’m sorry, sir. But I don’t like being told on and scolded like this was elementary school rather than a work environment.”

He flushed a deep red. “Your behavior…”

I cut him off. “Are you dissatisfied with my work?”

“There have been some incidents—” He meant Mrs. Leiberman and the police questioning him. He meant Noah’s leaving the program.

“My work, sir. Has there been anything I’ve done for you or this clinic that has not met your standards?”

His face flushed even darker, making his hair and eyes all the paler. For a moment, I thought his head might explode. “No.”

“Then your problem with me is personal?” I had him then. A personal issue could be pursued in all kinds of ways—most of which would have him in the papers, looking less than professional. I was a younger woman with a good work and academic record, and the press would jump all over the story if I decided to make trouble. Plus, there was the fact that Dr. Canning had been particularly close to a couple of the lab rats, as I liked to call his little female militia.

At that moment I knew that Dr. Canning would gladly fire me on the spot if he only could. “You’re on probation, Dr. Riley. From now on I’m documenting everything you do. I’m going to evaluate all your cases. You’d better hope I don’t find anything.”

I met his gaze, bold as brass and proud of it. “That sounds like harassment, sir.”

Dr. Canning pivoted on his heel and stormed out of my office, leaving me giddy, shaking, and a little high on my own power.

Where had all that ballsiness come from? But I knew where. It came from knowing that I was stronger than he was. It came from knowing that I had strength, and from knowing that the bottom would not fall out of my world.

And let’s face it. After facing down Karatos on several occasions, confronting Dr. Canning was like taking on a toad after going a few rounds with a T. rex.

At lunch, Bonnie asked me what happened. “Canning came out of your office looking like he was going to have a heart attack.

What did you say to him?”

So I told her. I gave her every little detail. Not because I couldn’t keep a secret, but because I didn’t want to keep it. Just in case anything ever happened, it would be good to have someone who knew my side of the story and witnessed some of it.

Bonnie laughed when I was done. “I would have loved to have been there for that.”

I dipped a chunk of bread in my soup. “You don’t like Canning much do you?”

She eyed me for a second with something that looked like speculation. She was trying to decide whether or not she could tell me something. Whether or not I could keep a secret. When she started to speak, I knew she had decided in my favor. “After Tony died, I was real lonely, you know?”

I nodded. I had no idea what it was like to lose the love of your life, but I could imagine how horrible it would be.

“Dr. Canning was very good to me. I guess you could say I became needy where he was concerned.”

My jaw dropped. “He seduced you?”

She shrugged, picking at her meatball sandwich. “I suppose so although I think I made the first move. I’m fairly certain he’d been setting it up. Anyway, he was the one who ended it by moving on to someone younger and needier.”

I had to force myself to swallow I was so disgusted. “How can you work for him?”

Another shrug as she tore off a big chunk of bread-covered meat. “I make good money as a receptionist. I’ve got benefits, and I’ve got kids to think about. They were young enough then that I had to put them first. And now…”

And now she was in her mid-to late forties and figured no one else would hire her.

“That sucks.” I reached for my Diet Coke. “Really. How can you stand to look at him?”

She swallowed the food in her mouth. “It’s not that bad anymore. Sometimes I forget. But every once in a while he’ll say something that’s meant to be like a private joke or something between us.”

I gestured at her with my pop can. “When I have my own practice, I want you to come work for me.”

She grinned. “I’ll hold you to that.”

I bought her a tea before we left, and we walked back to the clinic, Styrofoam cups in hand. We didn’t talk about Dr. Canning anymore, but I thought about him. I was thinking that he needed to be taught a lesson in contrition.

And then I thought of Jackey Jenkins. Yes, Dr. Canning needed to be taught a lesson, but I wasn’t the Nightmare to do it.

When I arrived at Noah’s that evening—yes, it was becoming a habit—I found him and Warren beating the crap out of each other in the dojo. Or at least that’s how it looked.

They were both sweaty, dressed in those white pajama things you see martial artists wearing all the time. Their hair clung to their heads, and I could hear both of them gasping for breath—and grunting—as they circled each other, striking out with hands and feet, sometimes getting blocked and sometimes landing a blow.

I winced as Warren landed a fist to Noah’s midsection, then winced harder when Noah seemed to lift Warren right off his feet and slam him to his back on the mat. This was different from the aikido they’d both taught me. How could they do this and not seriously hurt one another? Years of practice, I supposed.

As soon as they noticed me, they stopped.

“Am I interrupting a brotherly feud, or are you two always so hard on each other?”

They both smiled, breathing hard and sweating. “Friendly competition,” Warren said.

Noah chuckled. “When we were younger, it was the only way we could fight with each other without our parents getting upset.”

“We’d just save it for the mat.” Warren snapped Noah’s leg with a towel. “I can still kick your ass.”

Noah scowled at him, but there was no anger in it. “Yeah, right.”

I watched them together, so at ease despite the beating they had obviously exchanged. My sisters and I would never do such a thing. Imagine, me and Ivy kicking the snot out of each other over Mom. It was almost laughable it was so absurd. But maybe I’d talk to her more often if we had a chance to work off the tension between us.

But it was never going to happen, so why even think about it? Really, did it matter that Ivy thought I was wrong—that I wasn’t a good enough daughter? I knew that some great tragedy hadn’t befallen Mom. I knew that she hadn’t been “taken” from us, so instead of fighting with my sister I should just feel sorry for her and take my lumps as they came.

“You have enough energy left for me?” I asked Noah as I set down my bag. He was giving me another aikido lesson tonight. “I just might kick your butt.”

A flirtatious grin curved his lips. “I always have energy for you.”

I blushed. Noah chuckled, and Warren looked as though someone had just flicked him in the eye. He was obviously not used to hearing his half brother flirt.

“I’m going to leave before I’m scarred for life,” Warren announced as he headed toward the locker room. “Don’t do anything lewd until I’m gone.”

I went to the other locker room to change, but not before Noah gave me a “hello” kiss that had me tingling all over. “You smell,” I told him when we parted, my nose wrinkling. “Bad.”

“I smell manly,” he corrected without so much as a grin, but there was laughter in his eyes.

When I came back, Warren was gone, and Noah was ready for our lesson. We sparred for almost an hour and by the end of it I was a little annoyed. Noah kept pulling his punches with me. He went out of his way not to hurt me, which was sweet, but at the same time didn’t do me much good in the defense area. How was I going to mount a good defense when I had no idea what he was capable of?

“I need you to stop being so careful,” I told him. “Karatos wouldn’t hesitate to kick my ass.”

“No.” He reached for a towel and used it on his head and neck.

“Oh, come on.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my arm. “I know you don’t want him to pulverize me.”

Noah peeked out from beneath the snowy white edge of the towel. “Of course not, but I’m not going to try to hurt you.”

“Because I’m a woman?” I couldn’t figure out if I was amused or annoyed.

The towel was around his neck now, his hair standing out on all sides. “Yeah.”

I liked that he was honest, but I didn’t like the honesty per se. I suppose it was nice that Noah didn’t think boys should hit girls, but some girls needed to be hit—like those ones on TV trash shows that start hitting guys with their shoes. On the other hand, Noah was bound and determined not to hit a girl—so determined that it made me wonder why. But that was his secret, not mine.

It was connected to his dream about his mother, so I had my suspicions.

For that reason I decided not to push it.

We showered upstairs at his place. Okay, we showered together. It started out purely as a practical thing—why use more hot water than we needed to? And there’s something so good about having someone there to wash your back—Noah went so far as to throw in a little back rub while he was soaping my skin. It wasn’t until after we were clean that his hands slid around to my front and did some interesting exploring in wet, slippery areas.

I was gasping and trembling by the time he turned me around, a tightness wound deep inside me.

No guy had ever gone down on me in a shower before, and once I got past the initial surprise of having Noah on his knees in front of me, I relaxed and gave in to it. And it was good. Two fingers inside me stroked while his tongue found exactly the right spot to lick. I grabbed the back of his head with one hand and the top of the stall door with the other and held on as the things he did made my knees go weak. The orgasm that followed hit me so hard I thought I was going to take a header right through the glass doors, but Noah kept me on my feet. Feeling naughty, I returned the favor, and by the time we finally left the shower, the water was cold and we both had the muscular stability of wet noodles.

“You realize that every time we’re together we have sex?” I said to him, as we dressed.

He shot me an amused glance before pulling a black T-shirt over his head. “So?”

“Don’t you find that strange?” I fastened my bra. Maybe it was just me. It had been a while since I had dated anyone, and I’d never felt as comfortable with anyone as I did Noah.

He sat down on the bed to put on his socks. “Are you complaining?”

“No, it’s just…I don’t know.” I pulled on my sweater and went to stand in front of him. “You don’t mind?”

“Mind?” His tone was incredulous, if I do say so myself. He rose to his feet and lifted my hair free of the neck of my sweater. He pressed his lips against my forehead—I loved that he was tall enough to do that—and placed his hands on my hips. “Don’t speculate why I’m with you, Doc, and I won’t ask why you’re with me.”

I pulled back and lifted my face to look up at him. “Why would you ask that?” I mean, that was just ridiculous. He was gorgeous and warm and funny and sweet…

He smiled—a little sadly I thought. “I’ve wondered if you just want to fix me.”

That broke my heart. “You’re not broken.” Oh, he was dented and scuffed and probably needed patching in some areas, but didn’t we all? Hell, I wasn’t even totally human!

He gave me a hug, and we went downstairs to order dinner. His words stayed with me for a while, though, and they made me think. I had avoided talking to him about Morpheus’s plan to lure in Karatos because I wanted to protect him. But Noah didn’t want protection any more than I did.

He was right, I was something of a fixer. Even though I didn’t think he was broken, I was driven by my own nature to try to help him.