Dreamscape (15 page)

I meander to his chair, taking in the curved lines and
surprisingly sexy silhouette. It’s oddly feminine, yet masculine at the same
time. The onyx velvet looks so luxurious it calls to me.

After a few seconds of internal debate I lower to the
cushion and settle in. It’s a little big for me, but decidedly comfortable and
well-worn, like my old jeans. My fingers skim along the armrests ever so
slowly, like Seth did the last time we were in here together. The fabric
tickles my fingertips, and I find myself smiling.

The room has a cozy feel despite its size. For the first
time I realize when the flames are active the pendulum is gone. Curious. Seth
said it ticked away the seconds of his punishment. Does that mean that when he
is in the Dreamscape he’s not being punished or that his punishment is on hold?

I’m going to find out why he was punished. His admission
that a girl was involved only makes this curse thing more plausible. My mind
continues to spin with fluttering thoughts that melt away like lacy snowflakes
on hot skin once the next arrives.

I stare at the flames for a while and get lost in their
depths. What is it about fire that is so enticing? Get too close and it burns,
yet it sings a siren’s call of promised warmth and comfort—much like the man
that kidnapped me.

That thought snaps me out of my daydream, and I make myself
get up. The last thing I want is for Seth to come back and find me here in his
chair. Glancing behind me one last time, I leave his bedroom to search his
mansion.

For a moment there, I thought Amelia saw me. I was right
about her. She left my room almost immediately after I did. She is too defiant
for her own good, although I didn’t actually tell her to stay put. Perhaps the
thought of being in my bed chamber disturbs her? A grin tugs the corners of my
mouth as my mind puts the word bed right next to her.

Truthfully, I want her to become comfortable in my home and
the only way to accomplish such a thing is for her to explore. Me leading her
around is only going to remind her that she resides in my domain.

Seeing her draped across my chair set my body to flame. I
ache to feel her in my arms. Needing a distraction, I detach myself from the
tree I’ve been camouflaged in and call for Richard. It takes him mere seconds
to come to me this time. Good. My influence is solidifying inside him. Soon he
will be my eyes and ears in the Netherworld. It is risky to send him there, but
so far he has not been spotted, even though he has been in tainted worlds for
months. My hope is he wasn’t spotted when he left his world.

He stops a few feet in front of me and lowers his dark
head.

“Report,” I command after a few tense moments of silence.

He doesn’t hesitate in his answer. “I followed three Erobos
last night after…”

My jaw clenches, but I make myself relax. “Where were you?”

“London, my lord.”

I pace a line in front of him, clasping my hands behind my
back. “What timeframe?”

“Nineteen twenty-two.”

“The event in question?”

“Premier of Vaughan Williams’ Pastoral Symphony.”

“Where?”

“Queens’ Hall.”

“Date?”

“January the Twenty-Sixth.”

Odd. The symphony never took hold. Few understood its true
meaning. “The dreamer?”

Richard pauses, rubs his chin for a moment then nearly
yells, “Adams! It was Marvel Adams.”

My eyes snap to his. “Adams attended the symphony?”

“No, my lord. He was driving Mister Boult.”

“Did you notice anything odd about the exchange?”

He nods. “Boult tried to hand Adams a book.”

“What book?” I ask, hopeful to find information that will
help me this time.

He opens his lapel and pulls out a faded copy of The
Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan. A notecard sticks out from the middle of the
yellowed paper. I open to the page and the folded note drifts to the ground.

I keep my hopes tightly checked as I pick it up then scan
the neat calligraphy.

The aged paper crunches under the pressure of my fingers
before I hurl the ball into the trees.

Richard flinches. I close my eyes tight and focus on my
breath. He is young. I must not expect too much from him. Thus far all my
attempts to reach Marcus Hannover have been for naught.

I need a new strategy.

I need Amelia.

When I open my eyes, Richard’s head is bowed in defeat. I
clasp his shoulder. “It is not your fault. The odds were dismal at best, even
under normal circumstances. Thank you for your service.”

“I didn’t know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“It is I who am sorry, my friend. You will now be a target.
You must guard yourself against their attack.”

He sniffs and stands straighter, more man than boy in this
moment. “They will not acquire me, my lord. I give you my vow.”

I offer him a smile. “Do your best. That is all I can ask
of you. From now on I will find you. Do not come here again.”

After he gives a crisp nod, I dismiss him then turn my
attention back to Amelia. She is now my only hope of reaching my target. I can
no longer afford to give her time to adjust. Her training will pose a problem,
but she is smart. She will adapt.

I set to out into the Dreamscape, but my mind is with her.
My tasks are cumbersome tonight, but I grind through the motions with my team.
Maybell, my recruit trainer, insists on seeing Amelia in her true form, but I’m
hesitant to introduce Amelia to the multitude of alien species that make up my
team. In the end, I agree with her. Amelia must acclimate quickly, and hiding
the truth from her will not aid her in what will be a difficult process
already.

Maybell’s questions are many, and it takes me longer than
normal to settle assignments for the day. I give them vague answers when they
ask about Amelia. They are as eager to see her as I am. Soon, they will. I just
hope Amelia will be ready to see them.

It’s been forever since Seth left. For not the first time I
wonder how long he usually spends in the Dreamscape. If all I had to come back
to was an empty house, I would spend as much time in the Dreamscape as
possible.

Baltec is nice and all, but he doesn’t make a very good
conversational companion, even with his barks and yowls. The loneliness in this
place is nearly palpable, as if the walls have soaked up the emotion throughout
the years and now release oppression into the air on an hourly basis.

I’ve been exploring Seth’s palace and all I can say is I
haven’t found the end of it. It’s weird, but I’m starting to think there might
not be an end, just like his hallway to nowhere.

Panic settles into my heart at the thought of that tunnel
and that weird door that has such distinctly different sides. It has to be
where the key goes, but where will that hallway lead when we get the key? It’s
cruel to have an escape that goes nowhere.

A part of my heart squeezes to think of Seth sitting in his
room night after night, alone. No wonder he wants me here. Right now I feel his
loss like I’ve misplaced my arm.

No matter how much I want to deny my connection to him,
it’s there. It’s real.

I want nothing more than to ditch this place, but if I do,
he’ll be alone again. Can I leave knowing that? Can I sentence him to countless
years of solitude? Will it be another thousand years before he can access the
mortal realm again? The idea that he might bring another girl here, no matter
how many years into the future, sends a surprising jolt of jealousy through me.

Seth, Jason, he’s the same man. A man I’ve spent my nights
getting to know. I’ve given him everything I could in a dream. Can I do that
here?

It would be so easy for me to give in to him. The truth is,
I’m losing it.

My desire for freedom has paled now that I see what he
faces every day. Who knows? Maybe the Dreamscape makes up for all of this, but
I sincerely doubt it.

Does he pretend this life is the illusion? If I had been
stuck here for so long, I would have gone mad. Has he given in to the pressures
of solitude? Is he unstable, or is he just desperate?

I really don’t know what I’m talking about because I have
no reference point for this kind of loneliness. Sure, I can imagine how it would
feel to have to come here after having been in a place that can offer anything
day after day, knowing that other place holds no stability.

With all the grandness his house offers, it is not a home.
Part of me wonders if it has ever been. Has there been laughter here? Has there
been love?

The idea of Seth having been in love before sets my teeth
on edge. It’s pathetic, really. What do I care? He took me from my life so he
could use me, plain and simple. Yet inside I remember the warmth and safety of
being in his arms, even if it was a dream. I remind myself that he was probably
trying to soften me up so he could manipulate me, but what if he has true
feelings for me?

I shudder, then make myself focus on something else.

I meander from room to room until I come across his
library. It’s enormous…maybe six levels, from what I can see, with an inner
mezzanine that expands with each floor to create a domed beehive effect above
me. A gigantic circular staircase connects each level. It’s quite enchanting,
and an architectural marvel from my limited experience.

Taking in the bookcases that line the walls with countless
tomes, I walk to the middle of the room and look up. A golden glow radiates
from the ceiling, but there is something at the top, a single spot of red in
the middle of all that light that intrigues me.

Bypassing the first floor, I take the staircase straight to
the top. Isn’t that where the good stuff is supposed to be? I’ll explore the
rest later.

My fingers glide along the cool metal rail. I let them
trail behind me as I ascend the stairs, taking the place in. Part of the
mystery of the library is the central hole that grows smaller with each floor.
Just before I reach the top I look down at the cavernous space…big mistake.
Vertigo clings to me as I make myself climb the last few steps. Now that I’ve
looked down, it’s too late to go back. I already know how screwed I am if I
somehow fall. I shouldn’t be paranoid like this, but I can’t get the panic out
of my veins.

At the landing I am greeted by a wall of glass. When the
doors slide open, I rush inside.

I broke my collar bone when I was six because my dad
thought it would be funny to hang me from our second-story apartment window. He
was out of his head on crack and didn’t quite have enough of a hold on me. The
worst part was he waved at me, smiling, as I fell to the grass below, as if it
was funny, as if he hadn’t just put my life in danger. Despite how cushiony the
grass looked after a month of not being mowed, it was not soft.

That’s when the state took me away from him, a few years
before Justine found me.

I pull in a deep breath and swallow back angry tears. Yeah,
I was wrong. I totally get loneliness.

The doors hiss closed behind me. When I turn around,
vibrant crimson sheers draw my attention. Despite what I had imagined, the room
is cozy, alluring even. I swallow as I take it all in. It’s maybe an eighth the
size of the first level, with slick ebony floors that lead to a couple seating
areas and something else beyond, I can’t quite make out. Each calls to me in
its own way.

The first, closest to me, consists of two cream wingback
chairs with matching ottomans set against the backdrop of a rock fireplace,
complete with roaring fire. My head twists to the next tableau that is
separated by another sheer crimson curtain, which oddly enough resembles a
fluttering rose petal.

I push the gauzy fabric aside and enter another shrine.
This one is set against a circular paneled wall. A heavy crystal chandelier
dips low into the room and gives just enough light to be inviting. A single
over-stuffed chaise rests against the wall with a sturdy side table next to it.

My eyes sweep the space and on to the next. My mouth goes
completely dry. Beyond the final drape is a bed. It’s huge and round. Four
marble columns encase the thing. A pool of soft light filters down from an
unknown source while additional light rises from below.

I push the fabric away to get a better view and take a step
then another, all the while staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out where
the light is coming from. I make it nearly to the bed before I glance at
the…completely see-through glass floor.

I can’t breathe. Below me is the main lobby of the
library…six stories down.

As if I’m on cracking ice, I back away from the bed,
wishing myself lighter. Before I can retreat completely I smack into something
surprisingly solid and undoubtedly alive.

Strong arms encircle me and my pulse explodes in my veins.
My lungs seize up when Seth speaks. “I see you’ve found my sanctuary.” His
breath rouses gooseflesh on my neck that flows over my arms like a rushing
wind. “Do you like it?” His voice dips low in a seductive purr. “Because I’m
rather fond of the place, especially now that you are here.”

Amelia twists in my arms, her body trembling under my touch.
I’ve overstepped my boundaries by a mile, but I can’t stop myself. My heart
stutters with happiness now that I have her near me again.

To my surprise she slips away, her eyes darting from me to
the floor then back. Unease lingers between us, so I offer her a smile. At
least she doesn’t flinch this time.

I’ve been practicing.

Her heartbeat calls to me, beckoning me closer, her
emotions a tempting smorgasbord of distraction.

Her lips part on a small gasp, which only fuels my desire
for her. She still hasn’t spoken or reacted in the way I hoped she would.

The backs of her legs bump against the plush bedframe. It
would be so easy to forget the world with her here. She tilts her head back and
another gasp escapes her.

The ceiling is capped by a dome of mosaic crystal. I’ve
done my best to recreate sunlight. It is quite mesmerizing.

When she glances back at me, a hard edge lines her
expression before she zips past me. I follow her through the doors, but instead
of descending the staircase like I expect, she whirls around.

Her cheeks infuse with a pretty flush, although her heart
has thankfully slowed to a sustainable pace. For not the first time, I wish I
could read her thoughts.

Her mouth opens, yet nothing comes out. The green of her
eyes stands out against her pale complexion, still wild, though with fear or
desire I cannot be sure. I’m hoping for the latter.

“Amelia?” I ask. “What troubles you?”

She shuts her eyes tight and her fists curl at her sides.
When she sways, my heart lurches. She is only centimeters from the staircase
and she is still breakable.

I rush to her side and take her elbow. She stares at my
hand as if it is an alien tentacle. I do not remove it. I cannot let her go,
not with her being this unstable.

“I—I’d like to leave,” she says, stiffening her spine. “I’m
rather tired. I was just going to—

“Bed?” I say, heat rising inside me.

She stares as if stunned.

“You may use this room anytime you like,” I tell her,
realizing I have pushed her too far.

If possible, her face pales again. If I’m not careful, she
will swoon. Her heart is beating too quickly again.

Without letting myself overthink it, I lift her into my
arms and carry her to the bed, which is, after all, only a few feet away. Her
eyes flutter closed and her breath catches in her throat.

My body flames with need, so I make myself pull away from
her, but I will not leave her side until I know she has recovered. I’ve been
foolish to think she would no longer be afraid of me. “I’m sorry if I startled
you.”

Her eyes snap open, and the intensity in them astonishes
me. For a single instant she gazes at me like she did in her dreams, before a
steel cage encases her emotions. “I must have stayed up too late,” she says. “I
should just go to bed.”

Her lips call my attention, and I can’t bring myself to
look away from them. How long will I have to wait for her? I’m not sure I can
manage it much longer. “You may stay here if you like.”

“I’d rather not,” she says. I move to stand up, but her
fingers settle against my hand. “Seth?” I nod. “I’m sorry you’ve been alone for
so long.”