Wish You Weren't Here

by Janeen Ippolito

  “Yes, we do,” Cendric replied.

  I nodded, unable to articulate any words because of the pounding in my head.

  Augh.

  Maybe I’d take responsibility for leading others. Sometimes, and only when there was no other option. I could do that. But suddenly having the needs of my ex-boyfriend weighing on me? That was another story entirely.

  God, this is so unfair.

  I could almost hear my mom’s voice in my ear. Life’s not fair. And no matter how bad it gets, none of us repay evil for evil.

  Overcome with good. One of her favorite phrases. I’d gotten it tattooed … somewhere, along with birds or something. I think it was one of those tatts on my lower back that I forgot about until I got in the shower and it scared the crap out of me.

  “Well, I was the one who shoved him in there,” I muttered. “Time to head into the Dreamscape, if you’re up for it, Cid.”

  Weariness lined his features, but he shook it off, his gray eyes hard and certain. “Absolutely. After all, what kind of a shifter-turned-vampire would I be if I didn’t get insensibly jealous about my mate?”

  You’d get your alpha male badge revoked for sure.” I smirked.

  “Whatever would I do for my masculine security? Throw axes at trees?”

  I laughed. “You already do that. So do I. It’s one of our couples activities.”

  “And one of the many reasons you are a suitable spouse.”

  Beneath the banter, I could see the fierce protectiveness in his gaze. Cendric joked, but I saw that cutthroat edge. Not a terrible thing, because Kiran had been really obnoxious about my personal space. I just hoped it didn’t make dealing with my ex any worse.

  I started staring into his eyes, ready to get mentally pulled into the Dreamscape and deal with the consequences of my actions.

  “Could you use additional help?”

  Was that … Casimir? I blinked. “Are you joking, elf?”

  “I never jest about assistance.”

  Darned if he didn’t look earnest. I opened my mouth to refuse, then sighed. I was almost stupid enough to deny him, but not quite. “How do you plan on helping? The Dreamscape I have with Cid is locked down.”

  Casimir and Diza shared a look.

  “Let’s just say you’re not the only one with a knack for getting into places she shouldn’t,” Diza said. “All you need to do is give me permission, merely for the sake of respect and politeness.”

  I exchanged a look with Cendric. Territorial instincts warred with acceptance on his face, but after a few seconds, he obviously came to the same conclusion I had.

  We were in over our heads. And if Diza or Casimir tried anything, it was still our ball game. We could kick their asses to high heaven and back.

  “Very well. Consider yourselves invited.”

  The world around me snapped dark, like a light switch flicking off.

  And turned back on to disaster.

  Chapter 17

  There was a fish in our Dreamscape—and not a cute little orange goldfish. A massive fish the size of an aircraft carrier with jagged spines all over its skeletal, pus-oozing body. At one end of the mountainous curving back loomed a misshapen, oblong head with a snout that breathed brimstone, and at the other was a sharp-finned tail that sang through the air like someone playing a sawblade.

  Oh, and did I mention the fish was snapping nasty, vicious jaws as it whipped through the air above our heads? And it wasn’t the only nasty fish-beast up there. I breathed out and bubbles streamed out of my mouth and dissipated into the murky, brackish wetness that surrounded me. For some reason, the once-arid, endlessly lonely desert Dreamscape had gotten submerged. I didn’t even question the breathing part, since it was my Dreamscape. And Cid’s.

  Although Kiran had apparently decided to put his own personal twist on our landscaping.

  Glancing over at Cendric, it was clear he was taking everything as well as could be expected from a raven-souled being whose territory had been flooded to biblical proportions and filled with deadly fish. That is to say, my mate’s fangs were showing, his eyes were deep black, and when he spoke, his tone was out for blood.

  “Where is he?” The words managed to be cultured even with the odd undersea echo. “Can you locate him?”

  I shook my head. “Haven’t even tried. Hang on.”

  Focusing my mind, I reached out for the source of my still-throbbing head. Kiran’s strange desires and fears fed into this nightmarish waterworld and demanded my attention as his master. And there was a hefty side dish of resentment at the “master” part. Dude, it’s not my cup of coffee either. I didn’t drink tea unless Matthias tricked me or I had a sore throat.

  Come on, you stubborn-ass Jinn, where are you?

  A sudden flicker of orange light arced through the dark abyss. Another thread. Not like the strong rope between Cendric and me, but more like the fine embroidery floss Mom had used in her cross-stitchery.

  “Okay, I think I got him—”

  A deafening roar sounded through the water.

  Half of me wondered how the heck that was possible this far beneath the water. The other half sensibly recognized that this was the Dreamscape and things didn’t have to follow the normal laws of nature or physics.

  All the while, my body was busy trying to get away from the gaping maw of the giant fish-beast diving after me, intent on my blood. I spun around in the water, hoping I had way better swimming skills here than I had in real life. “Come on, Cid!”

  “At your side!”

  He grabbed my hand and yanked me out of the way before I lost a foot in the jaws of the fish-beast. “Why is it after you? This is Kiran’s doing, and you’re his master!”

  “I have no idea!” I winced. “I mean, other than Kiran really, really hates being bossed around by anyone.”

  “So he’s trying to eat his only ally?”

  “Jinn don’t do sanity!”

  Someone else grabbed my other arm and held on tight. Hard enough to stop me from following Cendric and suspending me between them. Anger flared within me, then grew hotter as I glared up into Casimir’s eyes. The stupid elf was looking all annoyed and superior.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded. “Use your magic and stop the monsters!”

  “You use yours, Mr. I-Can-Help!” Another vicious roar thundered behind us. Cendric yanked me away again, but not before a razor-thin tooth snagged my shoulder, cutting through my shirt and drawing blood.

  I gasped in water and pain.

  Casimir spoke again, his voice filled with fury. “It’s not my Dreamscape! It’s yours and your mate’s. And if you are Kiran’s master, how are you allowing him to harm you?”

  Fighting down tears, I gave him a glare. “I don’t want to be his master!”

  “Then why did you trap him in a turpentine bottle?”

  “I don’t know, because I needed to set my husband free and get Kiran to stop trying to seduce me, and oh yeah, a turpentine bottle was all I could find!”

  Casimir’s eyes blazed. “So own your situation like the adult half-Jinn you are, and command Kiran to stop this madness.”

  “Get out of my face!”

  Diza grabbed Casimir’s arm. “Clearly we’ve exhausted your intergalactic diplomatic skills for today. Time to let the professional in. Especially since the giant, sharp-toothed death whales are attracted to Allis’s decorative liquid.”

  Also known as my blood. A chill crossed over my arms as more dark shapes swooped over us. A deep snarl filled the air. The light elf’s eyes widened, then he scowled.

  “It’s not even real,” he grumbled.

  Above me, the fish-beasts snarled again.

  “In the Dreamscape, it can be,” Cendric bit out, his eyes black. “Get away from my mate and stop antagonizing her.”

  At that moment, two of the massive creatures swooped in, jaws gaping once more. A hideous stench roiled through the water from their mouths. Inside squirmed various types of detritus. My stomach lurc
hed. Why did Kiran have to be so freaking realistic?

  Wrong word. Graphic?

  “Lelkem, we must go!”

  “Got it!”

  I followed him along dark paths obscured by seaweed the size of houses. Shoving through the overly large fronds, I tried to focus past the pain in my shoulder. The light elf was right—in the Dreamscape, I shouldn’t get hurt. I was durable to begin with.

  Except against other Jinn.

  Augh. I tried to focus my magic. C’mon, be healed. Be healed!

  A gaping black hole suddenly filled my line of vision. I coughed on water. “Um, Cid?”

  “I discovered this cave a long time ago.” He waved his hand, and the underwater area illuminated. “A shelter for my own cares. Now it shelters us both.” The vampire glanced past me. “And our supposed helpers.”

  I rolled my eyes in agreement. As I did, my mouth gaped. The illuminated cave was breathtaking. The interior glowed with a myriad of crystals in blue, violet, and silver tones, each pulsing with light of varying shades. Silver stalactites spired from the ceiling, and on the floor were a litany of small shiny objects of various sizes, shapes, and colors.

  A raven’s hoard.

  “Huh,” I muttered. “This is new.”

  “I have many such places scattered across the Dreamscape,” Cendric replied. He gave a wry smile. “It would be challenging to show you everything in seven weeks and still leave time for our day jobs.”

  “Oh, I get it.”

  He glanced at the slice in my shoulder. “We need to bandage that.”

  “Underwater? Kind of ruins the idea of keeping bandages dry.”

  “If you can create polka-dotted penguins, I can create large bandages that effectively seal wounds when soaked. Turn around.”

  I drifted in the water as his fingers went to work, biting my teeth against the pain.

  “You’re doing that wrong,” Casimir said.

  “And who are you to judge?” Cendric retorted.

  I couldn’t see the light elf, but I could imagine his glare of disapproval. He’d certainly worn the expression enough in the short time I’d known him. “I’m a trained physician and surgeon who has treated magical races for thousands of years. You are a vampire with the soul of a raven who excels in killing others. Step out of the way and let me help her.”

  “No. I have no reason to trust anything you say.”

  Casimir made a frustrated sound. “Your alternative is additional pain to your mate and prolonging our time in this miserable place. Don’t be stupid.”

  In front of me, I could see Diza shaking her head, her red hair swaying back and forth in the water. But she didn’t say anything. I raised my eyebrows. “Is he telling the truth?”

  “Yes. He’s also an excellent teacher when he isn’t acting like the wrong end of a pooka.” Her eyes went distant, and she laughed. Some kind of telepathic bond with another person. I raised my eyebrows, and Diza shrugged. “You don’t have to trust him, though. I’d say I wash my hands of this, but they’re already wet.”

  Casimir swam over next to her. “Your faith in me is astounding.”

  “You wanted real experience on your own. You made your bed. You deal with it.”

  She had mentioned he was her assistant. So Casimir was a thousand-years-old rookie? Interesting. The last of the bandages got taped down. With them, the pain eased enough that I could think more clearly.

  Cendric moved to stand beside me once more and took my hand. His expression was far too grave for my liking. Far too tired. It wasn’t fair to put him through this, but dang it, I needed him more than breath. Especially now.

  I winked. “You could have just licked the wound clean. Used that awesome vampire saliva to seal it up.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “You did say you appreciate my brand of crazy.”

  He smiled briefly, then frowned again. If he had been in raven form, his feathers would be ruffling in frustration. I winced and squeezed his hand. Of course he was angry. This was his territory. And I’d made things worse by dropping Kiran in here. Plus, I could feel his strong desire to not be underwater any longer than he had to. Bird tendencies.

  “I’m sorry for shoving Kiran in here,” I muttered.

  “No forgiveness is necessary. You did the best you could at the time.” He studied me.

  “You broke the curse on me. You did everything I knew you could do.”

  “Yeah, I can do good things sometimes, even if it isn’t safe.” Even if it endangered me.

  His expression turned guarded. “Allis, when I said that, it wasn’t because of you—”

  “Yeah, never is. Still hurt me, but whatever. Time to fix this.”

  I reached inward for my magic, trying to push it out and merge it with Cendric’s through our clasped hands. Doing this earlier in our Dreamscape training sessions had been hit or miss, but now it was crunch time. Gotta swallow the feelings and get crap done.

  My sapphire magic swirled with his shadows, and together we pushed out in the Dreamscape. “Getting rid of the water sound good?”

  His lips twitched. “It would be an improvement.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to focus on eliminating the liquid.

  Nothing.

  Our magic pulsed through the water, as helpful as seaweed bending in the ocean currents.

  “Come, we’ll try again,” he said. His tone gentled. “You’ve done far more extraordinary things.”

  Sometimes. And not when it counted.

  “Sure, can’t be that hard.”

  This time, our combined magic surged out from us, sweeping through the cavern and into our entire Dreamscape. The water started draining away—much to the pain of the death-fish creatures. An agony I felt as if it were my own flesh and blood tearing apart. How? This had never happened before. I blinked compulsively, even though my tears were lost in the waves. Orange flames of magic suddenly attacked me from an unknown source, intensifying the pain.

  “Allis? What’s happening?” Cendric took my other hand in his as I doubled over.

  “Keep going,” I gasped. “It’s fine.”

  The water sank lower. At this point, it felt as though my own lungs were suffocating along with the massive monsters. Another cry escaped me, along with a strange satisfaction in their destruction.

  I leaned into the pain. It was better than the alternative. Better than facing my own screwed-up headspace.

  “No.” The vampire’s words were iron. “We’ll find another way.”

  His shadows ripped away from me. When I finally opened my eyes, we were fully submerged again. Cendric was studying me as though I were the most precious thing in the universe. “There has to be another way. I’ll break the bond myself.”

  “If you break my bond to Kiran, I won’t be able to find him.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You’re being stupid once more.” Yes, that was Casimir. “Both of you are. You can’t be afraid of the pain, or of showing each other your harsh sides. Shying away from it will only make using your magic together impossible.”

  “We’ve done it in the past,” Cendric said.

  “Sporadically, though. How can you be content with bare adequacy?”

  I pulled out of Cendric’s grasp. “Can you stop being a jerk for five seconds and speak to us without the attitude?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You wish me to coat every phrase in honeyed words as if you’re children?”

  That was it. The gloves came off. The stupid light elf was on my turf, so his deepest fears and desires were mine to own—and to use. I stared into his eyes, forcing my way through the so-called barriers he had in place.

  A myriad of Casimir’s desires and fears filled me. A deep desire to prove himself worthy. Well, he was doing a sucky job of that. A fear that he had ruined his own destiny, that he had fallen so far he could never be redeemed. Join the club. Doesn’t mean you have to be an ass. I pushed deeper. A strong desire
for a family, for deep, lasting connections since he had broken all that he’d had.

  I sighed as unwanted understanding and mercy flowed through me. This was the sucky part about reading fears and desires— sometimes you understood them. I’d lost my mom, I’d never known my extended family—and my sucky Jinn dad had never shown up in the first place.

  “You’re a real piece of work, you know that, Flashlight?” I shook my head. “Maybe if you stopped trying to protect yourself and admitted you had feelings, you’d get somewhere. It’s hard to get a new family, or even friends, if you’re guarding yourself like a wounded wolf expecting attacks all of the time.”

  Casimir just sort of stared at me, blinking. Which wasn’t surprising. I’d pulled a typical Allis move, scaring someone with sudden truth. This time I’d used a little of my Jinn magic to help. Imagine how awful it’d be if I unlocked the rest.

  No one would stick around. They’d leave just like my dad. Except for Cendric. Poor guy, stuck with an insane woman. Even though he said he loved that about me, if I couldn’t get a hold on it, how long would that last? I couldn’t let him see the crazy I struggled with every day, the temptation to destroy as easily as create.

  That searching look came back over Casimir’s face, along with a deep sense of knowing. “It takes a wolf to know a wolf.” Sadness showed on his features. “The only difference between us is that you turn your ferocity on yourself for things that are out of your control.”

  How did he know that? The answer came quickly after the question. Had to be some kind of empathy. In reading him, I’d left myself wide open.

  I swallowed hard. “Yeah, that’s the problem.”

  “No, it isn’t.” His tone was firm with an ancient strength. “Your abandonment, your lack of knowledge, your unjust captivity—none of these were your fault. If you keep carrying that with you, you’ll become your own worst enemy, and your magic will continue to be unmanageable.” Casimir glanced at Cendric. “And if you keep prioritizing her feelings and your fears over the greater mission you have together, you’ll lose her.”

  “I won’t apologize for caring about my wife.”

  I pressed my lips together. “And I don’t want to hurt anyone.”