Before I Wake (38 page)

The only thing unchanged was the moonstone in the hilt.

“Did you do that?” Noah asked, eyes wide.

My eyes were just as wide. “I think so.”

Sword aloft, I led the way. Noah’s hand was firmly clasped in mine as he walked slightly behind me. I don’t know if it was my imagination or what, but the blade of my new weapon seemed to glow a little as we approached the mist.

“Out of my way,” I commanded, in my lowest, fiercest “don’t fuck with me” voice. Inside I was quivering. How could I defeat Karatos if I couldn’t get past the mist? How could I save Noah?

To my surprise, the mist did as I asked. Pulling back, it formed a path as it had before. Maybe it remembered me slicing through them.

“Nightmare,” it whispered. “Not a Nightmare.”

“I am a Nightmare,” I said, inching closer to the entrance of the path. It could be a trap—the walls could close around us once we were inside. The fog would rip Noah from me and send him away, and I had no idea what it’d do to me since it had already tasted my blood.

“I’m here on Nightmare business,” I told it again. “For the Terror Karatos.”

“Karatos,” the single, yet many-voiced mist repeated. “Terror.” The fog walls remained, and it was all I could do not to run the length of that path. As it was, I walked quickly, and Noah, obviously sensing that something wasn’t right, kept pace.

We walked out of the mist into the waiting area of the sleep clinic.

“Morning, sunshine,” said Bonnie from her usual post behind the counter. “You’re first appointment is here. He’s waiting in your office.”

Karatos. I could feel him here, and no doubt he could feel me as well. He was playing with me. Bonnie hadn’t been conjured. She wasn’t some illusion Karatos had brought with him, she was actually dreaming this. Somehow Karatos had brought her into this scenario, or had manipulated her dream for his own purposes, but upon waking tomorrow, there was a good chance Bonnie would remember this.

I lowered the sword and flashed her a smile. “Thanks. Lunch later?”

She winked. “You know it.”

We continued toward my office. Hopefully, Bonnie wouldn’t give much thought to Noah being with me in her dream. I hoped she would chalk it up as speculation about our relationship. Other than that, I had nothing. At the very least I figured she would ask me what the sword meant next time she saw me. I’d have to make something up about penis size or something.

Karatos was in my office, waiting. The bastard was sitting behind my desk. He—It—looked up and smiled when we walked in. “I was beginning to wonder if you kids were going to show.”

“Get out of my chair,” I told him. “Now.”

His smile continued, grating every nerve I had into raw awareness. “Dear me, what are you going to do with that?”

I followed its gaze to the sword in my hand. Slowly, I willed it back into original form. “Whatever I need to do.” Brave talk, but true. I’d slice him from what my grandmother used to refer to as “asshole to appetite” if necessary.

“I like you, Dawn. I really do.”

“Spare me. Why don’t you give Noah back his ability to dream, and you and I can settle this the old-fashioned way.” God, I sounded like something out of a Western!

Karatos rolled his eyes at me. “Well, of course I’m going to give it back! He’s useless to me without that.”

I didn’t quite understand how that worked, but I figured that for some reason Noah had to be able to dream for Karatos to take him over—it was some kind of conduit, perhaps?

Karatos reached a hand inside himself—right into his own chest cavity—and pulled out what looked like a palm-sized crystal. It was brilliant in all its facets and colors—so bright it hurt my eyes. Swarovski had nothing on this.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Karatos asked, voice heavy with pride. “I knew as soon as I saw it I had to have it.” With that announcement, his gaze lifted to Noah.

The crystal was Noah’s inner self. His creative being. And yes, it was beautiful.

Karatos came around my desk to stand before us, still holding the crystal in his outstretched palm. “Take it.”

I watched as Noah reached out a trembling hand to take the crystal. “Now, hold it against your chest,” the Terror instructed.

Noah did just that. I think both of us forgot to breathe at that moment. Would it work? Or was this a trap? Would I have time to intervene before Karatos took Noah? Should I call Morpheus now? No. I had to get Noah to safety first. I had to make sure Karatos was contained first.

The crystal pulsed and glowed as Noah held it against his shirt. Slowly, the light waned as his body absorbed it back into itself.

Color bloomed in Noah’s cheeks and hands as his flesh returned to its normal hue. And his eyes brightened with the spark of life once more.

I could have cried, he looked that beautiful to me.

“Now,” Karatos said, clapping his hands. “My turn.”

That’s when I acted. Dagger in hand, I turned myself inward. I can’t begin to tell you how to do it, only that a split second later I was seizing hold of something deep inside me, a well of knowledge and power that I recognized as my Nightmare-self. I grabbed it and surged upward with it, bringing it out of myself, letting it wholly envelop me.

It took a second—maybe two.

Karatos reached for Noah just as I whipped open a portal. I grabbed Noah by the arm, then shoved hard, pushing him toward it.

“Go!” I cried. He hesitated, because Noah was the kind of guy who had a hard time leaving a woman alone in a dangerous situation, but in the end he did as I asked and lunged through the opening. If I survived this, I was going to kiss him so hard for listening to me.

Karatos roared behind me. It felt as though a Mack truck had struck me from behind, and I flew into the wall face-first. I felt my nose crumple under the impact, and my mouth split in two places.

“You bitch!” the Terror screamed.

I peeled myself off the wall. My blood left a bright crimson smear on the sage paint as I moved. I think a rib or two was broken as well. I was not off to a good start. But at least Noah was safe. Right?

I had to check. The portal was closed, I saw, much to my relief. Karatos couldn’t open a new one—it wasn’t one of his abilities.

It wasn’t anyone’s ability except for me and my father.

I propped my back against the wall and smiled, despite the blood streaming down my face. “He’s gone.”

Karatos turned on me. He was incredible in his rage. Pale eyes blazed from within the dark of his beautiful face. His high cheekbones were flushed with crimson, and his wide lips were pulled back from the perfect white of his teeth.

“I’m going to skin you alive,” he snarled.

He could probably do just that, I realized. I was immortal in this realm—or at least I thought I was. There were probably ways to kill me that I didn’t know about. Unfortunately, I didn’t know any ways to kill Karatos either.

“You didn’t actually think I’d go along with your plans, did you?” I asked, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. I don’t know why I bothered. It was bleeding really hard—not fast, which was good because it wouldn’t take long for my head to start swimming—but it was a slow, heavy bleed that would catch up with me eventually.

“I had hoped,” Karatos replied as he flipped my desk on its side with a casual touch of his hand. “But this will be so much more fun.”

I swallowed. Gross. “Then let’s do this.”

He—damn it, IT—chuckled. “I am going to miss our little scuffles, Dawn.”

I cocked my head. “Don’t go getting all emotional on me. We’re not done yet.”

Pale, spidery eyes lightened. “Soon. I will get Noah, or someone else. And when I do, I’m coming for you.”

I reached up, pushed my nose back into place, and healed the damage. It was mostly bravado that did it. I needed to show off, and so the ability came readily. I think I was finally starting to figure this stuff out. Karatos blinked as I fixed myself before his very eyes.

“I’ll be ready,” I assured him, and flashed my dagger. “Let’s go, bitch.” Oh, it felt so good to taunt him! To feel this new power surging through my veins. My vision altered, became more clear. My eyes had gone like his, I knew it. I could feel my muscles rippling beneath my skin, becoming stronger and more fluid. I felt like Wonder Woman.

Karatos sprung at me. I managed to slip to the side and avoid the attack. “That all you got?”

That remark got me a left hook to the jaw. Stars sparkled before my eyes, but I shook them off and stayed on my feet. I lashed out and was rewarded with the Terror’s astounded cry of pain as I moved faster than he could and slashed him across the chest.

His white shirt blossomed with crimson.

I bounced on the balls of my feet, adrenaline pumping.

“I’m so going to fuck you over,” the Terror promised, circling like a hungry wolf. “And when I cross over, your father will be blamed for letting it happen.”

My eyes narrowed. “Please. You’ve admitted to having help.”

He smiled a little. “Only to you. People here have been waiting years for him to make a slip-up like this. First, he brought in his human lover, then he spawned a half-breed brat, and now he’s let a Terror loose in the world. What kind of king is he?”

“Let’s ask him,” I suggested, but inside I was troubled. Was this really all about rebellion? Like Julius Caesar, it seemed my father needed to watch his back.

That was why he had told me not to bring Noah into the Realm anymore. He knew what trouble it would cause for both me and him—especially him. And yet, he had allowed me to bring Noah in tonight in order to save his life.

I brought things out of this Realm that I shouldn’t, and brought things in, too. And my father never told me no—just that it wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t want me to think there was something wrong with me, but it was obvious that I wasn’t normal, not even here.

“Are you going to cry?” Karatos taunted with a harsh bark of laughter. “Don’t waste your tears, Little Light. Everything King Morpheus does is for himself. He’d toss you to the wolves in a minute to save himself.”

“Sounds like you have issues with your own father,” I replied lightly. “Ever thought about going into therapy for that?”

He lunged again, and this time I kicked him in the stomach, an effort for which he thanked me by grabbing me by the jaw and slamming my head into the wall until the plaster rained down on my shoulders.

Like my muscles, my bones seemed stronger, too. Lucky for me, or my skull might have gotten fractured.

I slid to the floor, blinking, trying to force the pain away, but I didn’t know how. How could I concentrate when I hurt so freaking bad?

“Done already?” he asked, kicking me in the ribs as he spoke. I think I might have screamed. “We’re just getting started. But then, you always were a quitter.”

Ah yes. I had been waiting for this. Arm wrapped around my torso, I sat against the wall. I had blood and plaster all down the front of my black shirt and blood on my hands. My dagger was beside my thigh on the carpet, and I reached for it.

Karatos sat in my chair, rocking back and forth like a kid, beside the overturned hulk of my desk. He’d changed and looked just like the puppet on a kid’s show I used to watch back in Canada. Mr. Make Believe, the host of the show, had a “son” named J.

T. who was played by a marionette with a bowl cut and rosy cheeks. Damn thing used to scare me.

Seeing a life-sized version didn’t exactly assuage that old fear.

“This is really lame,” Karatos informed me. “A puppet?”

I shrugged. “He was creepy.”

The Terror shook his big, shiny wooden head. The yellow strands of his yarn hair waved slightly. “This isn’t your real fear, is it, though, Dawnie?”

I stayed where I was, trying to look calm. The pain had subsided enough that I was trying to concentrate on patching up my ribs.

The longer Karatos took listening to himself talk, the more time I had. “I guess not.”

He straightened and started walking toward me, arms swinging at their jointed elbows, the skinny fingers brushing the thighs of his denim overalls. He was going to keep this form just for fun, I realized. Because even though it didn’t fill me with terror anymore, it unsettled me, and he knew it.

“What you’re really afraid of,” he remarked casually as he squatted in front of me, “is being a freak.”

Shit. “That lacks a little punch coming from a being dressed up like a puppet.”

He laughed—J. T.’s laugh. I shivered. “You try so hard to protect yourself with sarcasm and that glib tongue of yours, but I can see inside you, Dawn. I know what Jackey Jenkins did to you. I know what you did to her.”

It was the last sentence that chilled me. “I never meant to hurt her.”

“No, but you kind of liked it, didn’t you?” Big blank eyes stayed fixed on me as he tilted his shiny-cheeked head. “You’re afraid of what you are. Afraid that you really are a big fat freak.” Then his trapdoor mouth dropped open in a parody of a grin. “A monster.”

For a moment I couldn’t speak. I was too afraid of what he might do next. He didn’t disappoint. J. T’s face wilted, melted away to more human features. And wouldn’t you know it? The features were mine.

Karatos turned into me. Bloody face and all. It was like looking into a mirror—an evil one at that. I saw my strange eyes and pale cheeks. Saw the blood all over my mouth and throat. It even had a mock version of my dagger.

“How rich,” this other me said with a throaty laugh that made me shudder. “The thing you’re most afraid of is yourself.”

And then it started laughing, and it kept laughing. And the more it laughed, the madder I became. Maybe I was afraid of what I might be, but I also knew that I could control what kind of person I was. I made the decisions for myself—no one else did. Part of being a therapist was undergoing therapy—and no one was more self-aware than I was. It was a point of self-mockery sometimes, but I knew myself inside and out, and even if I didn’t want to face the truth, I saw it with perfect clarity whenever I could.

And Karatos had made me see the answer with perfect clarity when he mentioned Jackey Jenkins had used Jackey’s fears against her, just like Karatos was trying with me. There was just one difference.