As much as I wanted to be sensitive to his loss, now wasn’t the time for reminiscing. “Can you find us a grange hall or some place in the Unseen Realm so we don’t have to bring students into the Faerie Realm?”
He looked to me, coming out of his stupor. “Not a grange hall, but someplace one might consider neutral ground. Somewhere owned by a Witchkin perhaps. Hmm. I think I can make this work. That was a clever suggestion, Miss Lawrence.” He grinned. “I’m certain you’ll pass on that alternative to the principal in the meeting today. It might persuade him to come around to my way of thinking about inviting Fae to this celebration.”
I didn’t know whether he had led me to that answer so I would come to the idea on my own without him telling me it was what we needed or it truly had been my idea.
“Is that the only reason you requested my presence at this meeting?” I asked.
“Not the only reason.” He smiled. His eyes changed from amber to gray, momentarily reminding me of Thatch.
I turned away, pretending to admire the swirling colors of a van Gogh.
“Mostly, I wanted to fabricate a reason to be in the same room with you unchaperoned so I could speak with you in private.”
“You can always get Vega to set up a meeting with us outside school hours.”
“True enough, though, that wouldn’t be unchaperoned. She tends to eavesdrop and insert herself in conversations uninvited.”
“Oh, and here I just thought you didn’t want to be around her because of the unsolicited advice on fashion and social etiquette.”
He laughed at that. “The advice wasn’t unsolicited. I asked for it. She gave and hasn’t stopped giving.” He shook his head.
I laughed too. It made it all the funnier that I suspected it was true.
“While we’re on the topic of Vega, do you think you could ask her to stop spying on me?” I asked. “Try as I might, nothing short of a sparkly new guillotine or the beating heart of one of her enemies will get her to part with me as her roommate. She said after you and I bargained, you’d probably do this as a . . . um… .” I hated to say it.
“A favor to you? Indeed. I will be in your debt after we have bargained.” A mischievous smile curled his lips upward. “But you aren’t quite ready for a formal contract, are you?”
I swallowed.
“No matter. As a show of my good faith, I will speak with Vega for you.” He held out his hand.
A show of good faith. Reluctantly I placed my fingers in his palm.
I needed more show and less faith. “And you’ll drop your accusations toward Thatch?”
He sandwiched my hand in between his. “After you formally ally yourself.”
The intensity of his violet eyes said so much without words. Raw and vulnerable, his love was still there. I wanted to reach out and embrace it, to embrace him. Part of me still loved him.
He squeezed my fingers. “I have a suspicion there will be no end to it with Vega, though. If it isn’t body parts she wants, it’s body fluids. Can you believe she asked me for unicorn semen?” He sighed in exasperation. “It never ends with her.”
I thought she’d gotten her fill of unicorn semen from Thatch. Didn’t he have enough for multiple spells? What was Vega up to?
Elric’s eyes shifted from blue to gray, stealing my attention. He was so beautiful. I sighed.
It was happening again. I tugged my hand back, but I felt as though I were moving through molasses.
Jeb burst into the office. “Mighty sorry about that for keeping you waitin’ like this. School emergency.”
I stepped away from Elric, but not quickly enough. Behind Jeb, Thatch marched in, his spine as stiff as a walking corpse. His black hair wafted behind him, the cobalt highlights brilliant against the dull gray of his suit. His eyes were dark like bruises. He halted upon seeing us. His gaze flickered to my hand retracting from Elric.
Elric turned away.
“What is she doing here?” Thatch asked.
The fact that he couldn’t even say my name or address me directly hurt. But then I shouldn’t have expected him to after the way he thought I’d wronged him.
“Yep, I forgot about Prince Elric requestin’ Miss Lawrence’s presence at the meetin’. Ahem.” Jeb tugged on the curled end of his mustache. “Felix, I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll have to continue our discussion about school matters another time.”
“Of course I mind. I’m a department head. I’ve been at this school for years. Now I’m suddenly being treated like a second-class citizen because of what she said. She’s been coerced. She’s a brainless idiot when he uses his magic on her.”
I shook my head. “I am not a brainless idiot.” At least, I wasn’t when Elric wasn’t touching me.
“Indeed, you’re a very smart girl.” Elric patted my head like I was a pet.
I scooted away from him. Thatch shot a disgusted glare in my direction.
Jeb held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, partner. You better stop there. Slander against a Fae ain’t something they take lightly.”
Elric sat back on the leather sofa. “In some parts of the Faerie Realm, it is a crime punishable by death.”
I kicked his foot and shook my head at him. “Don’t antagonize.”
“Slander against a Fae. Of course.” Thatch’s face turned red, a vein throbbing in his temple. “But a Fae can slander me all day, coming up with all manner of lies to sully my name without retribution. That’s the way it works in this realm.”
The Unseen Realm was an unjust place. The burden of this world sank like a brick into my stomach.
Jeb sighed and shook his head. “Felix, we’ve known each other for years. You know I don’t want to do that dang investigation, but I’m obliged by rules. If you just step out, we can discuss this at another time.”
Thatch turned to me. His lips started to form the words of some heated insult, but Elric stood, placing himself between us as quick as a blink of an eye. He might have taken a vow not to use magic in the school, but he’d obviously broken it.
“Stop this disgraceful display of emotion in the presence of a lady.” Elric got up close in Thatch’s face. I knew he was shorter than Vega and she was as tall as Thatch, so Elric must have been using a glamour to make himself taller to match Thatch’s height. “Indeed, this is an unjust world we live in, and I may have used my Fae privilege unjustly from time to time. Yet it is the world you have chosen to live in. Need I remind you that life isn’t fair? Or do they not teach that to school-aged children anymore?”
White and purple lights crackled in the air around Thatch. He grew taller, or perhaps Elric shrank. He leaned in, looming over Elric. “Spoken like a true Fae overlord.” Despite his height, he looked less ominous and more gawky, like a teenager confronting a smaller but more powerful bully.
Thatch turned to the principal. “Look at him ogling her, trying to bring her back into his court.” Thatch’s voice rose, venom in his every word. “That’s the whole reason why he wants to have that blasted auction and celebration at his estate, all so he can seduce her better. And you’re just going to go along with it, aren’t you?”
As annoying as Thatch could be, it was obvious from that statement he didn’t want to see me hurt. I wished he could see I could take care of myself.
Jeb dropped his head into his hands on his desk. He mumbled something that might have been, “Fucked as all get out,” but I wasn’t sure. If only Khaba had been invited to this meeting. Seeing the principal wasn’t going to do anything about this, someone needed to.
“Both of you, stop. You aren’t helping the situation,” I said.
I tugged Elric away from Thatch. I placed a hand on his chest and pushed him farther from Thatch before his nemesis poked an eye out with a wand. Hesitantly, I placed a hand on Thatch’s chest. His brows furrowed together in a moment of confusion, his gaze taking in my hand as if confused. His heart hammered in his chest. The molten temper in
his eyes cooled to a simmer.
I’d never touched the two of them at once before. Energy vibrated through me, the heat of Thatch’s anger and the cool, calm of Elric’s Fae magic mixing like matter and antimatter.
“Both of you, take another step back,” I said.
Surprisingly, they both did so.
Elric went on. “Furthermore, you will not look at Miss Lawrence that way. She has rescinded her accusation. She admits she may have made a mistake.”
I ground my teeth. The way he said it was like he was giving me leave to rescind the accusation, as if the idea hadn’t been my own.
“Is this true? You changed your mind?” Jeb stood up, the look in his eyes more crazed than pleased.
“Yes. I told you that before.” I glared at Elric. “And Prince Elric has agreed he made a mistake. He promises not to make a fuss or interfere in this matter any further.” He hadn’t said that earlier, but I glared at him, silently daring him to contradict me.
Elric chuckled. “Yes, I’ve decided not to pursue this matter further.”
“Damn it to hell. You decide this now?” Jeb shook his head at me. “After you told the entire staff and rumors are flyin’ ’round that we hired another pervert who’s been usin’ forbidden magic?”
Elric gaped at me. “You told the entire staff? Why would you do that?”
“No! That’s not what happened.” I turned to Thatch. “I’m sorry. I didn’t ask for this investigation.”
“Save your breath.” Thatch turned away. “Your apology is . . . too little, too late.” He spun on his heel and left. He didn’t even resort to magic. He pushed the door open and stomped out, letting it slam closed between us.
Inside, I felt as though a cheese grater had done a number on my organs. Even my soul felt as though it ached.
“So, about that auction. . . .” Elric said. “Clarissa has an idea about using a grange hall. Have you heard of such places?”
“Hold on,” Jeb said. “I need a drink before anyone else does any more gabbin’.”
That night I found myself lucid dreaming. I floated across the desert landscape of dreams. The desolation and ruined terrain below me reminded me of a lunar scene with pits in the rocks and meteor craters. In the distance, the horizon of the landscape twinkled stars. Each one was a dreamer.
I spotted a brilliant green light that tasted like Grandmother Bluehorse’s plant magic. One that flashed purple and white radiated arsenic and the cosmos—probably Vega. I passed a sea of stars, impressions of Hailey’s fire affinity, Maddy’s water magic, and a taste of piano music that felt like Sam, the Satyr groundskeeper, flickering by.
It was the red light nestled among the rest that drew me in. The dusty books, oil paints, and celestial light tasted like Thatch. As I neared, I realized he burned brilliantly like a bonfire among candles, drowning out the fainter lights around him. My consciousness drifted down to his door. The entrance to his mind was simple, unadorned. The handle was an old-fashioned latch without a lock.
That was odd in itself. The most guarded man I knew had no way of protecting his subconscious. Derrick had a lock on his mind, but maybe it was Thatch who had placed it there.
I entered Thatch’s dream, finding myself blinking at the brightness of the sunlight. The distant roar of water and wind sang a duet on the beach where I walked. The tide had gone out, far to sea. Thatch sat alone on a barren stretch of sand, his eyes closed as he tilted his face up toward the sun. His hair fell behind him like waves of dark water. He wore what might have been a nineteen twenties-style swimsuit. It was navy blue, the tank top and shorts attached like a modern woman’s one-piece swim suit. The lack of clothes showed off his long limbs covered with the intricate pattern of lace tattoos.
The peace in his expression reminded me of the time I had seen him soaking in starlight the night of the meteor shower. He was beautiful and radiant. I didn’t believe this was a glamour or magic. This was him. His mind and his soul.
I sat down beside him. The sand was warm but still damp enough to be firm.
“Oh. It’s you.” He didn’t open his eyes. “Here to invade my dreams again?”
The white of his skin turned tan in the sunlight. The umber was foreign to the vampire-like complexion I usually saw. White patterns decorated his skin, runes and barbed wire interwoven with Celtic knotwork. His skin kept getting darker, contrasting more sharply with the tattoos. He turned as navy blue as the swim suit and darker still, like the void of space. And then he was space.
I was no longer on the beach but somewhere out in the universe, the rotations of planets around stars taking paths along his tattoos. Magic was at work, but I didn’t know if it was the surreal fabric of dreams or actual magic.
I reached out a hand to touch the stars, but instead I encountered the surface of his arm and his chest. The texture of his skin wasn’t smooth. It was lumpy with scar tissue.
Everywhere I touched the stars and trajectories of celestial bodies of space became flesh. It was just as when I’d once touched the invisible man, and he’d lost his transparency. Thatch was like Derick in that moment, no longer camouflaged. His tattoos were there, but bleeding through I could see the old wounds he’d tried to cover. A thousand miniature cuts to his flesh had sunk into his soul. With the artistry of a master, he’d used tattoos and glamour to hide his wounds.
I smoothed my fingers down his arm, finding a raw gash on the back of his hand. Without thinking, I bent closer and kissed it, wanting to heal him. I wanted to make the pain go away. Of course, pain was also his fuel and a tool for him. I tried to find his eyes in the cosmos, uncertain whether he wanted the hurt to go away. I couldn’t find his face lost in the stars. I kissed another red wound on his arm and another on his shoulder.
His fingers threaded through my hair. “Don’t stop.”
“Does it help?” I kept kissing, trying to infuse him with caring and love.
“Help with what?” His voice was rough.
“Does it help make things better?” I kept searching for his eyes in the stars and thought I saw him, only for him to melt away again.
“Between us?” he asked. “No. You can’t fix that in a dream that you’ll forget when you wake.”
I circled my arms around his neck and hugged him. “What if I remember?”
“You might, but I won’t. I can’t do what you do in dreams.”
Enough of me was myself in my dream to take note of this. “Are you saying there’s something I can do that you can’t?”
“There are many things you can do that I can’t. Navigating into dreams is one. Your capacity to feel pleasure is another.” He pressed his lips to mine.
He tasted like starlight and apples. I hoped he wasn’t dead.
In dreams you weren’t supposed to imagine the things you didn’t want to manifest. I kept my eyes closed and visualized him healed and whole without scars, alive and healthy. I kissed him as I had once kissed Derrick, wanting to cure him, to make everything better, even if it wasn’t possible.
Making love in a dream was like listening to slow classical music, every note in perfect harmony and in place. Our melody harmonized each other. Feeling him inside me was as unreal as touching starlight. I kept wanting more.
He stared into my eyes, the gray storm clouds I was used to seeing shifting to blue, like Derrick’s. “Clarissa, can you possibly understand how much I hate you right now?”
His words were so unexpected they sent a cold jolt through me. I awakened, or I thought I did. Chilled water rushed past me. I sat on the beach under the bright sun where I’d first arrived in Thatch’s dream, only the tide had come back in. His face remained tilted up to the sun. His skin was a pale canvas that invited sunburn. He didn’t look at me.
I shivered at the cold rising past my ankles and creeping up my legs. The arctic water rushed past my waist. He remained still, the tide rising around him.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked.
/> “Indeed. Inviting yourself into my dreams was only one of them. Are you ready to leave yet?”
I stood and dusted myself off. Somehow I’d managed to acquire a twenties-style bathing suit, not so different from his own.
“Do you remember the first lesson I taught you?” He squinted at me now.
“The history of the school?”
“Lucid dreaming and subconscious messages. You must be able to differentiate reality from fantasy. You must be able to decipher your desires from someone else’s.”
Yes, he had taught me that. He’d tried to teach me that lesson in the meditation chair and with my affinity. It was the lesson that never stuck.
He turned his face back to the sea. “Don’t travel into someone else’s dreams until you’ve learned to master your own mind. I don’t.”
I found myself walking away from him. A scarlet door appeared on the horizon, reminding me of a René Magritte painting with an exit floating in a landscape where it didn’t belong. Only the door wasn’t the thing that didn’t belong.
I was.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
See You in My Dreams—Or Not
The dream had felt so real, but then, many of my dreams were vivid. Thatch had said I wouldn’t remember, but I did.
It hadn’t occurred to me that I might be better at something than Thatch. I hadn’t considered that I might be invading Thatch’s privacy. I’d never had any reason to believe I could control anyone’s subconscious other than my own—which I hadn’t completely mastered—but I was learning. Erroneously I had assumed he was the expert on lucid dreaming; he was the one I’d gone to for assistance when I’d had the nightmares with Julian and Derrick.
But now that I thought of it, I remembered that I’d pulled him into my dream each time I’d needed his assistance. He hadn’t ever started a dream-therapy session. He’d only guided me through with words. I was the one who had manipulated the fabric of the dream.
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