Wicked Dreams (The Dreamweaver Saga Book 1)

by K. G. Reuss

  “Are you hungry? We could go grab some food—”

  “Just take me home. Please.” I added the last bit hoping I sounded politer than I felt.

  “I’ll buy—”

  “Wes, seriously,” I snapped. “What’s really going on here? Why the sudden sainthood?”

  “I need your help,” he answered in a husky voice, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he ground his teeth.

  “With what?” I sputtered incredulously at his nerve.

  “I like Anita. But she won’t give me the time of day. I’m guessing that’s because of what’s been going on with you.”

  “So, you figured you’d sweeten me up, hoping I could smooth it all over for you,” I finished for him with a sigh.

  “Yeah, but it’s more than that, Olivia. I really am sorry. I honestly didn’t know Brent was going to do that to you. I think you’re a nice person. And I’d be here apologizing even if Anita wasn’t involved. I think you’ve been given the short end of the stick for reasons I can’t even begin to understand.” He glanced at me quickly before continuing, “You’re a beautiful girl. I think other girls are intimidated by you, and I know for a fact Brent has it bad for you.”

  “I’m not sure at what point guys were taught that abuse is the best way to show a girl you like her, but you can tell your boy he can kiss my ass. I’m not interested.”

  “Maybe if you were interested, he’d let up on you.” He peeked at me and gave me a helpless shrug.

  “Are you here to get me to talk to Anita for you or are you here to get me to give Brent a chance?” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him as we turned onto my street.

  “Both,” he answered meekly, casting me an apologetic smile. He pulled into my driveway. My hand immediately went to the door to push it open, so I could get away from him.

  “Wait.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop. “Please do this, Olivia. I know you don’t owe me a damn thing, but I really like Anita. I’ve never liked a girl like this before. I’ll treat her right. I could make her happy. Just please…talk to her for me?” He reached behind his seat quickly and handed me a plastic bag. “I got your clothes from Jasmine before she could pitch them in the dumpster. Truce?” His damp, blond hair fell across his forehead as his big blue eyes pleaded with me.

  “Keep them off my back. Keep them away from me. Then maybe I’ll see what I can do,” I answered curtly, eyeing my clothes. He pushed them onto my lap and gave me a small smile.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “You’re best better be really awesome.” I scooped up my clothes and got out of his car, slamming the door behind me. I didn’t bother to look back. There was really no reason to. Everything I cared about was up in my bedroom somewhere beyond conscious thought.

  And I was desperate to get there.

  Donovan

  Smoke filled the air as I squeezed through the staggering crowd of drunken bodies. Coming to a stop at the bar in the center of the busy club, my eyes landed on a pretty brunette sitting across from me. I watched her until she felt my presence. When her blue eyes locked on mine, I shot her a wink and gave her a cocky grin, making her smile and turn away. Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment or maybe excitement.

  I’d done as the devil said. I’d concentrated on her name, and then there she was, before me in the dreamscape. It was an easy task, but still one I loathed. But at least this way I didn’t have to sort through dreams with the hopes of finding a desperate soul. These on the list were served up on a silver platter for me.

  I waved at the bartender, motioning for a drink. While he got busy pouring, I studied myself in a nearby mirror. My blonde hair was slicked back, and a light scruff grew on my face. I was dressed in an expensive looking suit that hugged my strong, but thin frame — I looked nothing like myself.

  Being an incubus, I possessed the power to read women. It was vital to know what types of men they were attracted to in order to get what I needed: their souls. This woman was apparently attracted to rich douchebags, because that was exactly how I looked.

  When the bartender placed my drink in front of me, I told him I wanted to buy the brunette’s drink too. I sat back, sipping my whiskey and watching her. When she was handed the glass, the bartender motioned toward me. I held up my drink to say cheers. She tilted her glass in the same fashion, wearing an appreciative smile.

  Some souls took a month or longer to take, but Samantha Herring, I’d have hers that night.

  I kept my distance, playing the mysterious role. Inside her head, she was fighting with herself: will he come over? Should I go over there? No, I should let him come to me.

  Once I finished my glass, I sat it down and stood, walking around the bar and closer to her. Her eyes followed me through the crowd, afraid I’d leave without her. I came to a stop at her side, and she spun around on her barstool to face me. Her blue eyes shone brightly, and her cheeks were as red as a rose.

  “Hello.” I picked up her hand and planted a quick kiss to the top. “I’m Logan Webster,” I lied, picking a name that sounded as douchey as I looked.

  “Samantha. Samantha Herring,” she cooed with her silky-smooth voice. She held her head high and stuck out her big chest to give me a better view down her low-cut, pink dress.

  I made sure to look at the chest she seemed to be so proud of — if I wanted this to work, she had to believe I was interested. Even if the thought made me want to vomit. “That’s a beautiful name, Samantha,” I repeated her name, nice and slow, drawing her eyes to my mouth.

  “Thank you.” The blush on her cheeks climbed higher, deepening in color as it flushed her face. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

  “I’m only in town for the night. Business trip.” The bartender placed another drink in my hand, and I took a sip. “Are you from around here?” Since the barstool on either side of her was taken, I turned facing her and stepped up to the bar, putting us only inches apart.

  As she raised her martini glass to her lips, her eyes locked on mine, and she offered a nod.

  “So, you know all the hot spots.” I grinned while making eye contact.

  “I do.” Her eyes burned as she tossed her dark hair over her shoulder.

  “Care to show me?” I asked with a raise of my brow.

  She looked me up and down then smiled suggestively. “I think the hottest spot for me and you would be my place.”

  I let out a deep chuckle and took a long drink, finishing it off. “Lead the way.” I motioned forward with my hand.

  She stood and pulled her purse over her shoulder as she headed toward the door, peeking at me over her shoulder.

  I followed her out of the club and into the busy, city street. She stepped up to the corner and hailed a cab. Looking around, I could tell that her subconscious preferred realism. I never knew when I’d walk out of one room and appear in another created by the minds of my mark.

  A cab parked along the curb, and I opened the door, allowing her to climb inside ahead of me. She mumbled off her address, and the driver swerved into traffic.

  Samantha crossed her legs and leaned back, placing her elbow on the back of the seat so she could turn her upper body to face me. I placed my hand on her knee, gently rubbing small circles with my thumb.

  “Where are you from, Logan?”

  “A little bit of everywhere, I guess. I grew up in the country but left for college and haven’t been back since. What about you? Are you a city girl?” My lips turned up into a small smile as I forced my eyes to rake up her legs.

  “I am. Born and raised,” she replied, toying with her hair.

  The meaningless small talk was getting on my fucking nerves, and I had to remind myself of the time limit I had to collect the list of souls in order to keep my cool and continue playing along.

  Luckily, I didn’t have to play long because the cab came to a stop.

  “Here we are.”

  I handed the driver some money from my wallet and stepped out onto the sidewalk. She took my
hand and pulled me into the building, leading the way to her apartment.

  When we stepped inside, she tossed her purse down onto the entryway table and kicked off her shoes. “Would you like a drink?” she asked, suddenly looking nervous by the way she was worrying her bottom lip.

  Fuck no. I just want to collect your soul and get out of here, I thought.

  Instead of answering her question, I reached out and grabbed her hips, pulling her against my chest and let my lips find hers. She squealed with delight then melted into me. Her hands wrapped around my neck as I picked her up and pressed her back against the wall, deepening the kiss as she pushed my jacket over my shoulders and down my arms.

  Instead of thinking about the woman I was with, I pictured meeting Olivia in her dreams. The way she pressed herself against me, the way she kissed me… Just thinking about it made me rock hard.

  My hands made their way up her dress, skimming over her ass to grab her panties. I pulled them until they would no longer slide willingly. One more firm tug was all it took to have them ripping and falling to pieces. The sudden jerk of pulling her panties from her body caused her to inhale loudly and deeply.

  Using my fingers, I spread her arousal between her folds. She let out a whimper as she bit down on my shoulder. Wiggling in my arms until I relented, she slid down my body. “Logan,” she whispered as her hands fell to the waistband of my pants, freeing me.

  “Please, I can’t wait any longer,” she nearly whined.

  Already I was annoyed. I hated whiners. I wanted Olivia. My girl took what she wanted from me. And fuck, I loved it.

  I pushed myself into her core, connecting us as one, and she let out a scream as her nails dug into my back.

  I kept my eyes closed, preferring to see the past instead of the present. I knew if I opened them and saw the truth—this woman gasping for breath, if I had to watch pleasure wash across her face, if I saw anyone other than Olivia—I wouldn’t be able to finish. And collecting the soul depended on whether or not I could finish.

  Back in the beginning, I was so torn up by being forced to sleep with other women, I couldn’t finish. It took several times before I realized if I didn’t finish, there was no soul to collect.

  I pumped into her hard and strong until I felt my release rising. Crimson lips, ivory skin, flaming-red waves, and emerald-green eyes—that was all it took for me to empty myself.

  I withdrew and placed Samantha on the nearest surface, which happened to be a lounge chair. I righted my pants before picking up a small blanket and throwing it on top of her cooling body.

  As I turned around to leave, I caught my reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall in front of me. My true self was back now that the soul had been collected. Long, dark hair hung to my eyes. Tattoos adorned my wrists, proving I was a prisoner of Hell. And an X-shaped scar reminding me that I’d been cursed to spend eternity as an incubus — forced to fuck and kill every woman I came in contact with. The same mark that meant even in the dream world, I couldn’t touch the woman I was desperately in love with.

  Anger surged in my chest as I pushed forward, stepping through the dreamscape and peering at the dreams projected into the darkness in front of me. As the smoke from the burning ground beneath my feet swirled up around me, I pulled the paper out of my pocket to see who was next. I started skimming the list until I felt a pull in the place my heart used to be. When I looked up, Olivia was in the dreamscape, wandering the aisles of the library.

  I shoved the paper back into my pocket and stepped through, needing to see her. To feel her. To taste her.

  “Back in the library, I see.”

  “Donovan,” she breathed out as she rushed into my arms where I pulled her tight against me. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “I’m sorry, love. I’ve been kept busy.” I placed my hand on the back of her head, easing down her wild waves. Her heart hammered away against my chest. I closed my eyes and breathed her in deeply. She still smelled the way she always had: a rich scent of jasmine, which floated up my nose and eased away all my anger.

  She pulled back to study my face with tears in her eyes.

  “What’s the matter? Why are you crying?” I asked, using my thumb to wipe away her tears.

  “I wish you were real. I know you’re just something my subconscious invented, but I need you out there. Sleep is the only peace I get.” Her brilliant, green eyes were ringed with dark circles: a side effect of me stealing her dreams. When humans slept, they recharged. But because I was a demon, when I stepped into their subconscious, I stole their energy to give myself the power to manipulate their dreams, meaning rest for them was futile.

  “I’m sorry, Olivia. I wish I could be there too.” I placed my hands on her cheeks and pulled her mouth to mine. Our lips met as our tongues danced together. Her warmth sunk into me, and even though I was always hot from being in Hell, my heart had been frozen for a long time. With that kiss, it was trying to beat again, to break free from the ice it had been encased in for two hundred years. Demons had heartbeats. They were just far slower than a mortals.

  Her movements grew slower as I drained more and more of her energy. I pulled away as her eyelids fluttered. If I didn’t leave now, real harm could be done. “Rest now, beautiful,” I whispered as I stepped back and slowly disappeared.

  Finding myself in the dreamscape once again, I let out a deep breath. I wished I could be with her always. But I couldn’t step foot into her world, and if I was in her dreams too much, I’d drain all her energy, leaving her as nothing more than a lifeless zombie until all her energy was drained, causing her to slip into a catatonic state if she managed to stay awake. I needed to stay away, even if it killed me — let her get a good night’s sleep and recharge her life force.

  My nostrils flared and I fumed as I grappled with feeling useless. She was the one thing I wanted, and yet, I could never really be with her. Even in her dreams, we were limited. It all pressed heavily on me, making me drag as I plodded forward. Stepping back into my apartment, I found Abe pacing.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked as I threw myself onto the couch.

  “I’ve been here forever man. What the hell have you been doing?” He walked up to me and perched on the edge of the table.

  I pulled the list from my pocket and held it up. “Trying to get these souls the devil suddenly wanted. I only have a month and I still have four more to go.” My arm fell back to my side. As my eyes locked on him, his smile appeared. “What the fuck are you grinning about man? I’ve been pulling double duty all week, I’m tired.”

  “I know a way you can see Olivia in the waking world.”

  I sprung up, putting myself eye to eye with him. “What are you talking about?”

  “You can walk in the human world. Nobody will know you’re there. It’ll be like you’re a ghost. You won’t be able to touch anything or talk to anyone, but you can watch.”

  “How is that possible?” It felt like my heart finally broke through that block of ice as excitement and hope coursed through my body for the first time in hundreds of years.

  Donovan

  “There are loopholes in everything,” Abe explained. "This is no different. As you gain more souls, more power, you become powerful. Get what I’m saying?”

  “No, but I’d really like to so could you get to the point?”

  “The more souls you collect, the more powerful you become. Obviously, you can feel it when you take a soul, right?” He regarded me with his large dark eyes.

  “Yeah,” I answered slowly, thoughts beginning to take shape in my head. “Do you think if I take more souls that I could even join her in her world. . . physically?”

  “That was actually my next point.” He grinned widely at me, his voice excited. “Now, it’s just a theory, but if you can walk unseen, why can’t you gain enough power to walk and be seen? I mean, it’s shit luck for you because that means your dick might fall off because you’re going to have to pull triple time if it’s the cas
e. But it might work.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “Then you collected your quota, your dick can rest, and you got laid. I don’t see the downside here, friend.”

  “The downside is not having Olivia.” I rose to my feet and rubbed my eyes in frustration.

  “Then let’s not focus on the negative. Let’s pretend you do get to walk in her world at her side. What are you prepared to do to get there?”

  “Anything,” I whispered, my eyes locking on his. “I’ll do anything.” Her words of how she wished I was real flooded my mind. I imagined her face when she saw me. I imagined actually holding her for real. I imagined making love to her—

  I ended that thought abruptly, my heart sinking. I’d never be able to make love to her. If I did, she’d die, sending her soul right back to Hell. And I imagined the devil would have something special in store for her. It had been a long time since she was cast out. Long enough that the sick twisted bastard would have come up with far more creative ways to torture her. To torture us because I knew damn well I wouldn’t be left out of the picture.

  “I can never make love to her,” I stated in a hoarse whisper, my heart aching with the thought. I sank down onto my couch again, hope destroyed.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “If you know something, come out with it already!” I snapped.

  “I don’t know anything.” He shrugged. “Except this…with every curse there must be a way out. Everything has a loophole, remember?”

  I perked up and sat forward once more.

  “Go on.”

  “You were cursed to be a sex demon, because the king knew it would devastate you to be intimate with women who weren’t Olivia. He cast her out to wander. She was reborn somehow. Now, two-hundred years later, here we are. She’s no longer lost and wandering. What if to break the curse, you have to get her to accept who you are now? Get her to willingly give herself to you, knowing you’re with other women? She’d know your tainted truth, that you’re fucking other women and her. Maybe forgiveness and acceptance are what make it true love. Doesn’t true love conquer all?”