Rock Star (Dream Weaver #2)

by Su Williams

  “I’m sorry. That’s very intimate, isn’t it?” I said.

  “Someone should know,” he said grudgingly. He closed his eyes, but I could see them darting under his lids as he beheld the images of so long ago as though they happened now. “She played coy, at first. Too grown up for her sixteen year old life.”

  “Sixteen? That’s so young.”

  “Times were different then. Girls were women at thirteen, often wed by fourteen. But Sarah wouldn’t leave her beloved brother, though many suitors graced her doorstep. They were all the other had.

  “For some reason, they both loved me, took me in, taught me what I was capable of.” Sabre stood before me and trailed warm fingers down my cheek. “She was seventeen when Thomas arrived and turned our happy world upside down. He won his way into Will’s good graces, but I saw him for what he was. A liar. A manipulator. Will only saw a fellow Caphar. And Thomas had his eye set on Sarah Rose. Which meant he was bent on removing me from the picture.”

  He returned to the window as though it held refuge, and stared out unseeing, his thoughts cloaked in silence. I melted into the burgundy leather couch and waited. “I asked her to marry me by the little creek she adored.”

  My mind dashed in crazy directions and the words slipped out before I could rein them. “Can Caphar still have babies?”

  Sabre came to me and knelt by my side, took my hand in his. “No worries, little girl. You and Nick shall have plenty of babies.”

  I blushed. “I…Nick…I didn’t mean…”

  Sabre chortled, rose and walked away. “Someday, love. He must be able to touch you, first.”

  My blush turned crimson. “Sabre. That’s none of your business.”

  He continued to laugh. “You do look so lovely in red,” he teased.

  Well, it wasn’t like I hadn’t walked right into that one. But we weren’t discussing me and Nick. This was about Sabre, and Sarah Rose. I cast him a hard look and the smile slid from his face. “I often wonder what our children might be like. If they would be Caphar. If I would outlive them.” Pale and wistful, he continued, “Sometimes, still, I look in the mirror and imagine her eyes and her hair mixed with my features, imagine what our child would look like.” He shot a glance of reluctance my way, noticeably sorry he’d shared such an intimate secret with me. “When Thomas found out about the engagement, things went from bad to worse. His covert attempts to win Sarah’s affections became more overt and he did all in his power to make me look bad in Will’s eyes.

  “You pretty much know the rest,” he said, alluding to the ‘memory leaks’ while weaving my rock star life. “You’ve seen what he did to her, how he made it look like I’d done it in a jealous rage. I’ve been looking over my shoulder ever since.”

  I joined Sabre at the window, pressed my shoulder to his. “Do you feel better sharing this with me?” I asked.

  He barked a quiet laugh. “No. Not really,”

  I hugged his arm and rested my head on his shoulder.

  Actually, I do. His thought was clear as he caressed my hand. God forbid the almighty Sabre relent to emotional weakness.

  He turned into me and wrapped his arms around me, released a shuddering breath I was sure was a stifled sob. One hot tear, heavy and wet, fell on my neck.

  “Hey, Sabre, do you know…uh,” Nick stood at the door, his face bewildered at the sight of me in Sabre’s arms. His friend wasn’t the cuddly type.

  “Hey,” I said as I released Sabre.

  “Hey back. I was just looking for…”

  “In the kitchen drawer by the fridge,” Sabre told him.

  “Ya know, giving you new abilities can be so annoying. The least you could do is allow me the courtesy of finishing my question.”

  I stared between the two of them. Sabre smirked at Nick. “Since when have you known me to be courteous?” he asked.

  Something warred on Nick’s face but he pushed it away and shot a questioning glance at me. I nodded and flashed him a meaningful smile and that seemed to defuse him.

  “Can you give us a minute?” I asked.

  “Um…sure thing. I’ll just—go back to what I was doing. I’ll be in the kitchen,” Nick stammered.

  “Thank you,” I said as he backed out the door and shut it behind him.

  “May I show this to Nick?” I asked, once we were alone again. I smiled inwardly as I heard the formality in my words. Perhaps the boys were rubbing off on me, like when you go somewhere with a different dialect and slip into the accent of the region.

  “May as well,” he said as though there were no other choice.

  “It’s your choice, Sabre. Your innermost memories are your own. I won’t defy your desire to keep them private.”

  “No. It’s fine. It’s probably about time he knew the truth anyway. I’ve kept it from him for over ninety years. He should probably know why there are Rephaim out for his blood.”

  “Maybe you should share this with him?” I asked.

  “No. I don’t think I can go there again. It’s too…”

  I knew how to finish that sentence—too painful. I nodded. “I understand.” I began to walk away but Sabre clasped my wrist to stop me.

  “I know you do,” he said. “Thanks, Em. You know, for…”

  “Sure thing, Sabre. No problem.”

  I left the room, still feeling the weight of his pain in my bones, like a shift in the barometric pressure.

  Nick was uncharacteristically quiet, almost brooding, when I skipped down the stairs.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey.” Not ‘hey back’, no smile, no invitation into his arms.

  I wandered the sunken living room of Sabre’s sprawling home, drawing memories from knickknacks and furniture. Pretty mundane stuff. Memories of movies that had garnered intense emotion, concerts like the Queen Live at Wembly I’d watched my first day here to meet Sabre. I laughed out loud as the image of Nick and Sabre nearly holding hands while watching that concert, until I realized Nick had transferred the image of me with my hand on Freddy Mercury’s crotch to Sabre. I shot him a defiant glare, which he blatantly ignored.

  The massive painting of the bustling provincial town that hung in the dining room, once again, called to me. I stood before it imagining the stories of the lives of all the little people. I stretched my senses toward Nick, trying to ascertain his mood. But I backed away. I’d chastised him once for the very same thing. I understood now the temptation to get into people’s heads.

  “Are you mad at me?” I asked instead.

  “No,” he said too quickly. “Yes. No.”

  I turned to him. “A girl could get whiplash with an answer like that.” I dared a smile. He returned it in kind, finally. I went to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “What’s wrong?”

  He started to push away, but pulled me tighter instead. “It’s nothing.”

  “I could just find out on my own, you know? But I thought I’d have some respect and not do that to you,” I explained.

  Nick shot a glance up to Sabre’s closed door. “It’s just—I don’t know. When I saw you with Sabre, like that, I just…”

  “Got jealous?” I asked astounded.

  His grimace tugged at my hair. “A little,” he confessed.

  “I was just giving a friend a hug,” I defended.

  Nick stepped back and eyed me incredulously. “Friend? Since when are you and Sabre friends?”

  “All the more reason for you not to get your boxers in a knot. And I use the term ‘friend’ exceedingly loosely.” I laid my head on his chest, listened to the thrum of his heart. “He shared some things with me. Things you’ve only guessed about.” His muscles tensed and the green monster raised its ugly head.

  “I’ve followed him for decades, fought by his side, nearly died at the hand of his enemy and he shares that information with you after five minutes?” he softly raged.

  I took Nick by the hand and led him to the living room. “Sit. Please,” I amended. He obeyed and I craw
led onto his lap, rested my head on his shoulder. “The things Sabre shared, they’re very painful to him. Kinda like,” I paused unsure if I should tread this ground. “Kinda like Felicia is for you. He only shared the details because I knew so much already from the rock star weave he did. He couldn’t maintain the weave without some things leaking out. He worked so hard at making those images real that his guard went down around his own sacred memories.” We sat quiet for a few moments. “I can show you, if you want.”

  “Sabre should show me,” he retorted.

  “Honey. If I asked you to relive your worst nightmare, not once but twice, would you be willing to do that? I wouldn’t ask you to show me what the Wraith torment you with.” Nick sat rigid and silent, contemplating—battling his anger and his dedication to his aloof mentor.

  His chest sank with a breath of resignation. “Show me,” he relented.

  After the images poured from me to him, we sat in silence. Nick replayed the image of that one hot tear falling from Sabre’s eye and trailing a cooling course down my neck.

  “I’ve never seen him cry. In all these years, not once has he let me see him cry. I just thought he was a hard ass,” Nick said.

  “Yeah. Not so much,” I said. “But don’t tell him he’s not.”

  Chapter 24 Cherry Bomb

  I shivered in the cold, puffs of breath chattered from my mouth. The guys weren’t the least bit affected.

  “So, how come I’m freezing and you two seem fine?” I asked. “Is this another Caphar thing.”

  Nick looked askance at Sabre, who shook his head as though the answer were elementary. “Your body still thinks it’s human. As you adapt to the Capharism, sensory stimuli will affect you less. The more often you phase the quicker you’ll convert.”

  “Ha, yeah. Mr. Paranoid here won’t teach me how. He’s afraid my molecules will scatter across the face of the Earth and never reconstitute,” I complained.

  Sabre’s eyes narrowed at Nick. “You’re not doing her any favors by protecting her. You’ve got to teach her how to defend herself. We may not always be around to save her pretty little ass.”

  At first, Nick looked abashed, but when Sabre mentioned my—back side, he returned Sabre’s glare. I hated it when they fought, and I didn’t care if Sabre noticed my butt. I hitched my hip and looked over my shoulder at my posterior, then looked at Sabre. “Gee, thanks Sabre. I was wondering if it was getting too big.”

  Nick groaned, and Sabre snorted and returned to his work.

  “Get it done. Or I will,” Sabre threatened.

  Panic jolted my heart. By the horror on Nick’s face, it was obvious the idea repulsed him. He reached a hand to me. “Come on. Let’s get you inside where it’s warm. And I’ll give you lessons on phasing. Okay?”

  I slid my hand into his and snuggled against his warmth as we walked into the house. Nick led me to the small music room in the basement Sabre used to weave his rock star dream. I shuddered but not from cold. The memories of that weave still clung to the walls like graffiti—swirling colors and shapes, alive and vibrant.

  “Here,” Nick said. “Sit here.”

  I shot him a questioning look, and he stepped up to me and brushed a wisp of hair behind my ear. “Honestly, this is the best room to do this. It’s confined enough that you shouldn’t scatter too much.”

  “Shouldn’t?” I asked as a tremor of fear skittered up my spine.

  “I’ll keep you safe. It can be very disorienting. I want to try and keep you anchored at first, instead of out in the middle of nowhere where any breeze can control you at its whim.” His thumbs caressed my cheek bones and he gently, almost fearfully kissed me. His heart thrashed against my palms and I felt him erect a barricade in his mind. What was it that he was so afraid of me seeing? What secret kept him constantly on guard, even against me? I thought we’d taken care of the nightmares the Rephaim tormented him with. Why did he still need to protect himself?

  “Here, sit down,” he instructed, and I obeyed, though I still wanted to know what he was hiding. “Close your eyes and clear your thoughts. Don’t think about anything.”

  “How do you not think of anything?” I smirked.

  Nick chuckled. “Just try. Relax. Take deep breaths and think of the lightest object you can think of.” I closed my eyes and imagined cotton candy—sweet, airy, soft and weightless. “Good girl,” Nicks voice was so low and quiet it was barely a whisper. “Now, I want you to imagine yourself as cotton candy.”

  I opened my eyes and stared at him. “For real?”

  Nick shook his head and huffed a quiet laugh. “It was your choice of object, hon.”

  “Yeah, but—tell me what it’s like. Tell me what’s going to happen to me so I don’t freak out when it does,” I begged.

  “Well, you know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach, the excitement when a plane finally lifts off the ground after lumbering down the tarmac?” I nodded. “It’s kind of like that when you shift into your ephemeral form. It’s a rush when the laws of gravity no longer apply to you. Physically, your molecules and cells, every fiber of your body is shifting from corporeal to incorporeal. You feel yourself get lighter, less—dense. Your spirit is cohesive but it’s constantly moving and it can be hard to orient yourself. That’s why I wanted to start in a small room.”

  “And will you teach me to phase through walls like you do?”

  “That’ll come next.”

  “So, anything that’s touching you goes all sparkly, too?” I asked.

  “Yes, well, like clothes and items we carry.” Nick explained.

  “What if you were touching me? Would I turn spirit, too?”

  Nick blushed, reticent to reply. “No. It doesn’t work on other corporeal entities.”

  “What would happen if your ethereal body came in contact with me?”

  Nick’s blush darkened. “Emari—it’s—it’s a very intimate thing. I could—I would touch you—everywhere.” My eyes blazed wide and my mouth drop open. Searing heat rushed into my face. Nick studied my eyes. “I’ve touched you before, in ethereal form. But I’ve never...” he swore. “I only touched your face. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  I watched his face, watched his fear, listened to the chilling expanse of silence that spread between us. “You’re telling me—it’s like having sex?”

  He chest expanded and he measured its release. “Yes. It’s that intimate.”

  I blinked and stared blindly across the room, imagining Nick’s touch over my whole body. “Do you think, someday, we could try?”

  Nick breathed a small laugh and the corners of his mouth twitched up, but the shadow in his eyes darkened. “Someday,” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. “If you want.” He was quiet for a long moment, gazing at something internal. “Are you ready?”

  “Not quite. What happens when you shift back?” My mind was really still on the thought of his touch, but I needed to focus on his lesson not his hands. “If I’m up in the air and I shift back to my body, won’t I fall and kill myself?”

  “Even if you fell you wouldn’t hurt yourself. You’d just shift from physical to spirit and your body would repair itself. Besides, I won’t let you kill yourself.” His thumb traced the tendons in my wrist—where I used to fantasize about cutting. He continued to explain. “You can control how fast or slow you make the shift. If you are up in the air and you begin to shift back, you can do it slowly, so gravity can take control again a little at a time.”

  I sat mesmerized by his inky blue eyes, then drew a bracing breath. “Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s do this thing.”

  Soft and hypnotic, he said, “All right. Close your eyes. Empty your thoughts. Breathe deeply and imagine—cotton candy.” I could almost hear his eyes roll and the teasing twist of his lips. I smiled. “Imagine the lightness, the airiness, the weightlessness of it. Imagine releasing every tension, every pressure, every pain. Will yourself to drift.”

  My body, my very cells lightened and lifte
d.

  “That’s it…”

  The buoyancy shifted and re-solidified.

  “Just relax. Just let it happen,” he encouraged.

  I concentrated on lightness, clouds, vapor, molecules that transcend gravity, but all of my grief, all of my anger and anxiety weighed on me like lead. My soul felt bloated like one of the corpses on Sabre’s wall. My heart was black, dirty, too corrupt to defy the laws of nature. Nick’s warm fingers tracked down my arm.

  “Emi, let it go…”

  I knew Nick meant more than I needed to relax, just like when we did a weave. He believed so much more of me than I believed of myself. How was I worthy of such gifts? Of Nick? Of freedom?

  “Em, let it go…”

  With my innermost being, I pushed at the darkness that weighed on me like a thousand nightmares. I opposed the press of gravity, like being under water in a murky pond, the cold and dark and wet, enclosing and dragging on me. My lungs and heart ached for release. Above me was light, dancing through fathoms of water, so far away and yet not so far I couldn’t reach. I thrust toward the refracting light, prayed I’d make it before my lungs burst. The light split and scattered, twisting, pulling, drawing me. The dark heaviness peeled away like a wet woolen cloak, sank away from me into my abandoned mayhem. I was light. I was air. I was free.

  “Emari?” Nick’s voice was soft and distant, though it echoed as a shout. I swam in light and freedom.

  “Emari?”

  Hush! I’m flying.

  “Em, listen to my voice. Don’t lose yourself.”

  No, I don’t want to be lost.

  “That’s a girl, Em. Come on.”

  My cells re-densified and my body slowly shifted back to corporeal form. My heart battered my ribs as the rush of adrenalin streamed through me. My body felt grossly solid after my spiritual journey. I opened my eyes to heaven.