Relish: A Vicious Feast Book 2 (15 page)

“Why do you say more than you should?”

The professionalism in her question put me at ease. “Duh! Maybe because I’m a mere mortal compared to his rock god status?”

“Do you really think so low of yourself?”

“Nope.” I popped the P. “I’m just being realistic. Plus, I’m sure you already know. He’s in love with someone else.”

The scratch of pen on paper followed my statement before Samrah spoke again. She was right. The sound was oddly soothing. “So, tell me about your dreams.”

I welcomed the subject change, and it was another thing I liked about Samrah. She could have spilled what Luka shared during their sessions, but she didn’t. I respected her more. So, with my stomach in tight knots, I began telling the shrink about the monsters that kept me up at night.    

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN
S
PECULATION

I finished, twiddling my thumbs, unsure what to do next. Was I supposed to say “Ta-dah! That is my life”? The scratching paused. A soft tapping followed, as if Samrah counted the seconds of silence that passed between us. The sage continued to burn, filling my lungs with its musky, sweet herby scent. At times I choked on it, while on others I inhaled as if greedy for more. The room stopped swirling when I concentrated on describing my dreams.

The silence filled in the gaps. Not awkward gaps, mind you. More like a sense of relief, at least on my end. Larry had been right. It felt good to talk to a professional about the nightmares. It seemed as if a great weight had been lifted from me. I breathed easier.

“The dreams,” she said finally.

I waited. When she didn’t continue, I pushed up on my elbows and glanced at her over my shoulder. A tight valley formed between her plucked eyebrows. She stared at her notepad like it held the secrets of some conspiracy. I dropped back down, content not to say anything until she actually asked me a question. As far as I was concerned, I’d told her everything. Well, everything connected to the dreams. The chanting. The dancing women. The ritualistic atmosphere. The thing that seemed to possess me, along with the weird incantations. The man who chased me down and eventually stabbed me to death. And waking up at the hospital remembering nothing. All that except for the latest addition to my dreams: Luka. She didn’t need to know my subconscious dreamed him up after the nightmares to give me a sense of security. It certainly helped keep me from searching out other
methods
of calming myself down, i.e. running to the actual Luka’s room and burying myself in his scent until we were both panting and spent. Nope, not happening any time soon.

“The dreams,” she repeated after what seemed like a couple more minutes of silence. When I thought I’d have to speak to get her to continue, she added, “You believe you are the one in them?”

I shrugged before grabbing a throw pillow and hugging it securely against my chest. “I think so. Anyway, they feel so real. I could smell the smoke coming from the torches. I could hear the chanting even if I couldn’t understand them. And each and every stab…” I shuddered. “I know the pain of how that feels. It’s like the girl in the dreams is me but not me at the same time because I know they are dreams and it’s impossible for those events to be real.”

“But your injuries…they match what happened to your dream self.”

My hand travelled to my abdomen where beneath the cotton of my shirt spread a map of scars. “That’s what I’m here to make sense of.”

Another elongated pause. I was starting to think Samrah wouldn’t be much help. She sounded as skeptical as I felt. Sure the injuries bared resemblances. What really happened was totally different.

“I think it’s best if we leave everything as they are for now.”

I sat up and swung my legs off the couch. Samrah massaged her temple as if I’d given her a headache. “Too much for you, Doc?”

She glanced at her notes one more time then eyed me. “I can’t make any definitive assessments until you tell me about what caused your injuries. Are you ready for that?”

From the way she asked, it was as if she dared me to continue. I shook my head. “I think I’ve reached my share quota for today.”

Samrah pushed off from the reading chair and ambled to a desk where she exchanged her notepad for a tablet. She removed a stylus from the side and tapped the screen with it several times. “From here we will be moving on to the Odyssey Arena—”

“In Belfast,” I interrupted.

“You know their schedule.”

I squirmed when she eyed me again like dinner. “I make it a point to do my research when I’m working with a particular subject,” I said as nonchalantly as my quivering stomach would allow. The urge to run away from her scrutiny almost pushed me off the couch and out the door. My gaze darted toward the exit. “Knowing where the band is headed next is part of the job.”

“Sure it is.”

Sometimes I caught myself liking Samrah, and then there were times, like right now, when I absolutely hated her. Well, more like her perceptiveness. What was she keeping behind those intelligent garnet eyes of hers? She obviously knew something, the way she studied me said so. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask without digging the hole I’d already dug after admitting that I liked Luka any deeper.

It took her a second longer to continue. I believed she deliberately paused to create discomfort in whoever she spoke to in an attempt for the other person to overshare in the hopes of filling in the dead space. My palms were soaking through the couch cushions I’d been gripping since our session ended. The effort it took to keep my mouth shut exhausted me.

“Once we arrive in Belfast, I’d like to resume this session. Would you be amenable to that?”

I thought about it. Only my mother knew about what really happened the night I lost my eye. Since I’d already spoken to the shrink about my dreams, it seemed illogical for me not to tell her about the incident. At least that way she could separate the dreams from reality and give me some closure about the weirdness surrounding my insomnia.

“If it’s going to help get me some answers…” I shrugged again. “Why the hell not?”

“I’ll pencil you in then. As soon as we get settled at the hotel in Belfast, I want you to come and see me.” She scribbled a note on the tablet with its stylus.

“What about the dreams? What should I do?”

“I’d tell you to start a dream journal, but since it seems like these are recurring dreams, a journal loses its helpfulness.” She set the tablet down and crossed her arms, half-sitting on the edge of the desk. “Do the dreams bother you enough that you can’t get any sleep?”

I flushed only because Luka came to mind. My subconscious Luka, not the real one. “Not really. I’ve survived this long with getting little to no sleep.”

The lines at the corners of her lips deepened. “Being on tour with the band can run you ragged. We can be in different time zones in a matter of days. Not getting any sleep with this rigorous a schedule might not be good for you. Would you like me to—”

I raised my hand to stop her from going there. “Sleeping pills seem like a good idea, but maybe not right now. If the dreams get really bad then I’ll ask you for them.”

She nodded. “You seem very calm and collected about this.”

A chuckle escaped my throat. “If you’ve lived with the nightmares as long as I have, you get used to the weirdness.”

“Then why seek help now? What’s changed?”

“The escalation.” I knew this from the beginning. “I want to understand why these dreams are happening and why I’m forced to seek some sort of human interaction afterward.” I bit the inside of my cheek. The admission slipped out before I could censor it.

“What kind of human interaction?”

“Are we still on the clock?” Meaning, did the doctor/patient confidentiality still apply?

She caught what I left unsaid and nodded.

I sighed, clasping my hands in front of me, and stared at my entwined fingers. “When I got back from winter break, I was so messed up after what happened at Lunar Manor, which I’m not sure I can tell you about because of the NDA I signed, that I rebounded with an ex. When the dreams woke me up at night, I sought out the oblivion sex gave me just to relieve the chill spreading through my body.”

“So in order to cope with the dreams you turned to sex.”

“Pretty much.”

She tapped her chin. “Before you stayed at Lunar Manor, how did you cope?”

I shrugged. “I worked, or took a walk around the block.”

“Now I understand why you’re seeking help. Since, I assume, you are no longer with your ex, how are you coping?”

A knock at the door saved me from having to answer. I sprung off the couch as if stung by something hidden in the cushions. “That must be Luka.” I shuffled to the door. “We’ll talk again in Belfast,” I said to an open-mouthed Samrah as I pulled the door open.

Sure enough, Luka stood just outside the door, fist in the air for another knock. I pushed past him. I hoped he’d let me go, but the hand he wrapped around my arm kept me from running away. He closed the door to Samrah’s suite and turned me to face him. The concern in his clear blue eyes rooted me in place.

“How did it go?” he asked when it became clear this conversation wouldn’t start any time soon if he didn’t say anything.

I shrugged then scratched an imaginary itch at the back of my neck. “Good, I guess.”

His eyes narrowed. “You guess?”

“I told her about the dreams.”

“And?”

“None of your business.”

His grip tightened around my arm. “You’re clearly upset. Tell me so I can fix it.”

I yanked my arm away before his fingers left bruises. “What Samrah and I talk about in there has nothing to do with you.” Okay, a total lie since I suspected the escalation of my dreams had something to do with my feelings for Luka. Why the hell would my subconscious create a version of him in my head if it didn’t? Ugh! This got weirder by the second.

Taken aback by my words, Luka dropped his gaze and ran his fingers through his now dry hair. “You’re right. I shouldn’t pry.”

He looked so damn adorable in that second that I wanted to take him in my arms and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. Instead I bit the corner of my lip and said, “Come on, you know that’s not what I mean. Well, it is, but not in the tone I meant to say it in. Look,” I waited until his gaze met mine again, “I know I overreacted when I found out that you talk to Samrah about me. But after my hour with her, I realized it’s important to give her the whole picture if she’s to be any help. I’m not an open book by a long shot, but I’m trying. And I understand that about you too. If you really want to fix what needs fixing then you need to tell her everything. If that includes me then so be it.”

“Wow!” Luka’s expression opened up, a teasing glint in his eyes. “One session and suddenly you’re Deepak Chopra.”

My fist collided with his shoulder. With lightning fast reflexes, he caught my hand and placed my palm flat against his chest. The teasing disappeared, leaving behind hidden desires that scared me. I focused on feeling the strength of his heartbeat to keep my blush to a minimum. He waited, just like I did earlier, for my gaze to meet his before he spoke.

“If Samrah puts you in a situation you’re not comfortable with, tell me.” He squeezed my hand.

“And what will you do? Fire her?”

“If I have to.”

I rolled my eye at him. There was the Luka I was familiar with. The one who needed to control everything still lingered behind those intensely hot eyes. “You’re not going to do that.”

“For you, I will.”

“Luka,” I sighed, ignoring how special his words made me feel, “she’s here to help you. I’m just a side project. You need her more than I need her, so no one is getting fired.”

Only the corners of his lips went up when he smiled.

Not fooled, I pushed against his chest. “Promise me.”

He said nothing.

“Promise me. No matter what happens between me and Samrah, you won’t fire her.” I widened my stance, ready to argue for the rest of the day if I had to.

Luka blinked. The heat in his eyes disappeared, giving me much needed relief. His shoulders sagged when he finally said, “Fine.”

“Say it. Say you promise.”

He treated me to the same eye roll I’d given him and raised the hand not holding mine to his chest. “On my honor, I promise not to fire Samrah no matter what happens between you and her.”

“I appreciate that,” Samrah said just inside her room. She’d managed to open the door without us noticing.

Luka let go of my hand. I let the disappointment run its course. He kept his gaze on me when Samrah asked him if he was ready to start his session.

“Give me a minute,” he said.

Samrah shut the door to her room again.

“Go grab breakfast,” he added before I could turn and go. To be honest, I didn’t want to leave that hallway as long as he stood in it with me. After an hour of breathing in burning sage, Luka’s scent was a welcome change. “I’ll come get you after my session and we’ll ride to the Arena together.”

“Is that a request or a command?”

Mischief sparked in his eyes. “You decide.”

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN
A
RENA

I whistled while spinning around in a slow circle on center stage at the O2 Arena. “So this is what twenty thousand empty seats looks like.”

“In Ancient Rome the arena games were paid for by wealthy individuals and were used to gain popularity with the masses,” Dray said behind me. He carried in one of the cymbals, busy setting up his kit. “Today, people pay to be entertained.”

I chuckled, getting all warm and fuzzy. “You know I like it when you spout facts at me.” I raised my camera and captured him trying to hide a blush by adjusting his drum stool.

He cleared his throat then smiled a lopsided one at me. “I missed you, too.”

Ah, I wanted to run and hug him. He reminded me so much of a plushy. A soft, rock star, mad scientist plushy. Although, I got the feeling Dray wouldn’t appreciate me calling him that.

I adjusted my camera’s settings to take panoramic shots of the entire arena. Tour support staff in headsets and walkie talkies ran around with cables and wires. Others set up the lights. And a group of producers stood around speaking with each other and pointing at several places on the stage. I shrugged. My job was to take pictures, not bug each and every one of them with questions about what they did. I figured there would be time enough for that as the tour progressed. I counted at least twenty more stops until we circled back around to the States.