I could feel the force of his anger pelting me like grains of sand in a storm, each individual particle sharp and slicing. I could see Ebenezer’s face being cut to ribbons but his face was calm.
How can he be so calm? I wondered.
“When you gaze long into the abyss,” he whispered, “the abyss gazes also into you.”
I realized what Ebenezer was suggesting a millisecond before Elbaz did. Without further thought I conjured up an immense void filled with dark stars. I could feel Ebenezer’s presence beside me and that gave me additional strength to mold and shape the darkness. And then, the void sucked Elbaz away as if he’d never been there. As Ebenezer and I watched, the darkness folded in on our nemesis like a piece of celestial origami. The air pressure rippled and my ears popped painfully. If Ebenezer had not been holding on to my arm, I would have fallen into the void as well.
But he was holding onto me. My lifeline. My heart. My love.
I turned to him and melted into his embrace, a physical joining to mirror the spiritual bond that had been sealed by our shared ordeal.
Where the blood-spattered room had been was now the familiar construct of my own bedroom.
“This door will take us into my bedroom,” I said.
“I remember,” he said with a faint smile.
I smiled back but my tone was serious as I said, “Your father won’t know we’re back,” I said. My room is protected, like a computer that’s air-gapped. When we get back we can call security.”
“Not the police?”
“What are the police going to do to him?” I said. “They know there’s some strange stuff going on at the clinic. If they ever found out just how strange, they’d shut us down and probably send me to a holding cell at DARPA while people tried to figure out how to weaponize what I can do.”
“Like my father.”
“Like your father.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
I could tell he really meant it but I couldn’t share his sentiment, at least not entirely. Dr. Elbaz’s ambition had kindled Alexander’s own dreams of wealth and power, but they had brought me to Ebenezer.
I would be forever grateful for that.
Epilogue
All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible.—T.E. Lawrence
In the way of dreams, when we returned to my bedroom, less than one night had passed. But the minute we’d stepped into my bedroom, Ebenezer’s dream body disappeared as he woke up in the treatment room, causing all kinds of chaos as he thrashed around, tearing at the lines and wires connecting him to the monitors.
Discreet ASC security agents had descended on the bed and breakfast where Ebenezer’s parents were staying and they’d been taken into custody. His mother had been questioned and allowed to leave. She had wanted to see her son before she left. He refused to see her but told her he’d text her when he felt better.
“Maybe sometime in the future I can look at her and not remember that she let her husband use me as a pawn,” he told me. “But not soon.”
I understood completely and did not argue with him, although I was troubled.
My mother asked Ebenezer to stay and let her study him. She didn’t know what to do with Alexander. Imprisoning Dr. Elbaz had not turned out well.
“I have an idea,” I said. “But I’ll need a really big space to build the construct.” My mother looked curious but didn’t question me.
Two days later, we’d rented out a nearby college’s football stadium. If anyone had been watching—and I’m sure there were some curious people—all they would have seen was my mother and my sisters standing in a rough triangle around a blow-up mattress.
I lay down on the mattress and went to sleep with Ebenezer holding my hand. I dreamt of us making love in my tower room. We took our time, rediscovering each other and delighting in the tastes and touches and scents of each other. And when I felt his heartbeat synching up with mine, I felt complete. But I wasn’t in the football stadium to indulge myself. I was there to create a prison for Alexander Quarles.
I woke up alone in a black sand desert with an unfamiliar sky overhead, a brilliant canvas of color from nebulae normally unseen to the naked eye.
I’d been here before, at the portal that led into the realm of the gods, watching a sleep-deprived artist paint his dreams.
The place was so beautiful, I almost got lost in the dreaming, but I gathered myself and called my father’s name.
There was no answer, but I was not going to leave until he, or some other god, came along. And while I waited, I began to construct an island. I shaped it to fit inside the contours of the stadium, first the bare rock and then the forests. I added pools of fresh water and stocked them with fish.
I added ducks to the fringes of the pools and frogs. If the French could eat frogs and consider them a delicacy, Alexander could too. I threw in some snails for good measure. I wasn’t sure if the little island I was dreaming up could sustain any animal capable of giving milk but I conjured up rabbits and squirrels. I imagined plantings of berries and fruit and nut trees. I was putting in a little waterfall where Alexander could bathe when Morpheus suddenly appeared next to me, standing on a patch of society garlic and wild onions and trampling the tender shoots.
“What is this?” he asked. He sounded grumpy.
“An island prison,” I said, “for a man who wanted to be a god.”
I looked around at the dream construct I’d built. It was a pretty place.
“It’s pretty,” he agreed, “but of no practical use. A man might live here for a few days but he would starve. Not everyone can make a dream object real. He’d be able to see the fruit and the fish but when he reached out his hand, he would taste only emptiness.”
I suppose I should have considered that possibility.
“We have to do something with him.”
‘You say he wished to rule?”
“He wished for power,” I said, ‘I’m not certain he necessarily wanted all the detail work that came with that.”
Morpheus pondered that and then he smiled. It was not a comforting sight. In fact, it was the stuff of nightmares and had I not been his daughter, I might have drawn back in fear.
“Bring him to me,” he said. “I will teach him what it means to serve a higher…cause.”
He looked around at my little island. “If you add bees and butterflies, it will last longer. You and your…dear one…can come here to frolic.”
“Frolic” is not exactly the word I had in mind for what I wanted to do with my “dear one,” but it was nice to know my father approved.
I opened my eyes to see my mother, sisters, and Ebenezer looking down on me.
That night, in one of the secure rooms the clinic kept for violent patients, Alexander Quarles was put to sleep. Sometime between midnight and morning, he disappeared from his bed. One moment he was on the monitor and the next he was gone. There was a blur that suggested he’d been taken away by some unseen force.
“What is your father going to do to him?” Ebenezer asked me.
“Nothing pleasant,” I said.
“He couldn’t contain the doctor.”
“Your father isn’t a Dreamer. And he won’t be in the waking world. We’re safe. The world is safe.”
And if we’re ever not safe, I will build us a sanctuary so hidden, no evil will ever find us., I thought, but I did not say it aloud because I didn’t want to think of that possibility right then.
I wanted to stay in the waking world and be with my love. And frolic.
From Kat Parrish
Thank you for reading The Waking Dream!
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Also by Kat Parrish
A Dream of Sun and Roses
L.A. Nocturne Collection: Tales of the Misbegotten
La Bruja Roja: Magic in the Blood
Misbegotten
Soul Kiss
Tears of Idrissa
The Summer Garden
The Midnight Palace Trilogy:
Bride of the Midnight King
Daughter of the Midnight King
The Midnight Queen
Iroida
The Invicta Series
Berlin Rhodes
About the Story
Boone Copper is tired, worn out, and ready to quit. As a descendant of Roman demigods, he is an active member of the Iudex – a group of men with the sole purpose of keeping powerful innocents out of the hands of immortals. Until Iroida steps out of the shadows, chasing the same innocent, and a major spanner in Boone’s works. It’s not just her beauty that distracts him, it’s her intelligence, and inner fire he can’t stop obsessing over.
Iroida, daughter of gods and a guardian in the Praesidio, is on the trail of her latest assignment when she runs into Boone, a canny and handsome Cajun whose intelligence and clever ideas distract her from the job.
Manipulating each other to win, they’ll face the inevitable: choose a love that will carry them through millennia, or the life of a woman who can alter reality.
Many thanks to my partner in all writing crimes, Rolex. To my husband, who had to tolerate a lot of experiments, questions, and weird scenarios.
Chapter One
Boone
The woman marched past the alleyway, and he shifted further into the shadows. She wasn’t the one he sought. Her heels clicked on the concrete, fading with distance. He waited. The scuff of tennis shoes snatched his attention. A small woman, no more than five feet tall, hair pulled into a messy bun, worn jeans, and a dark green hoodie, walked past. He shifted to the other side and leaned against the bricks. She stomped forward, and he followed. His senses said they were alone in the street, not hard to believe, it was six in the morning. The sun was making an appearance on the horizon, and the woman he followed had just left her shift at the hospital.
She took several turns and he hung back. Now was not the time to introduce himself, or his purpose. At the moment, he was only to keep his distance, and ensure her safety. She was the hunted, wanted for her abilities, an innocent caught in a supernatural war. She just didn’t know it yet. He doubted she knew of her lineage, or the power she could wield. Young, she’d graduated from nursing school a mere two months earlier. If they calculated properly, it would be another few years before the abilities showed. Which is why the other side wanted her.
He stopped and pretended to look for change to pay a parking meter. She’d turned and narrowed her eyes at him. She nodded once and continued. He watched where she went before following.
He turned the corner, three blocks from her apartment complex, when a fist landed against his cheek. He reacted, first in defense, but a kick took his attacker down. He stood over the assailant, shocked. It was one of them, from The Praesidio. A Guardian. He’d heard of the women but had never met one face to face.
Her leg moved, and he landed on his back, the air forced out of his lungs. He struggled to catch his breath, and as he did, she was on his back, an arm at an odd angle, her knee putting pressure on his lower back. He couldn’t get up.
“She’s not yours. You must leave her alone.” Her voice caused goosebumps to rise. It was soft, but commanding, husky, feminine, and soothing. A strange combination. He noted a slight accent.
“She’s in danger and I’ll protect her,” Boone gritted out. She held him hostage with her voice. He admitted it was more likely the way she kept him from getting leverage. “I’m of the Iudex.”
“Damn it.” She jumped off.
He rose in slow motions, realizing he’d underestimated her during the initial attack. He looked around, and found the young woman swiping her keycard two blocks away and stepping into the protection of her building. The woman dusted off, and she wore simple clothes. He could see waves of heat rise from her in the brisk morning air. As she straightened, he gasped for breath. She stood six feet, with long, curly black hair, tanned skin, and dark brown eyes. Her features said Mediterranean, a woman who loved the sun. She wore a long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans, and expensive running shoes. She reached up, gathered the thick locks into a ponytail and used a band from her wrist to hold it in place.
“What are you doing following my charge?” she demanded, moving into a purely feminine stance, one hip popped out, hands on hips.
He held out a hand, “Boone Copper.”
She rolled her eyes and stepped back. “Iroida. Answer.”
“You know very well why, Iroida.” Her name rolled off his tongue, tasting exotic. He raised both brows, dropped his hand and cocked his head to the right, “That young woman is under my protection.”
She shook her head, the long ponytail settling over a shoulder. “No, Boone. The Praesidio must take her, at least she’ll be in a place she can move freely, have a life.”
Boone knew of the Praesidio, that once they found the human target, the target was never seen again. Rumors ran amok in the supernatural as to what really happened to them, but nobody could say for certain.
He didn’t like uncertainties.
“No. We’ll just have to fight for her. Unless you can give me proof she’ll not come to harm with you.” He could hear the woman’s third floor window open, the sound of a dog barking, and her quiet words to soothe the animal. “Otherwise, we can make sure she isn’t used.” He raised an eyebrow at Iroida.
Her body went still, expression neutral. He couldn’t detect even a heartbeat at her throat. Yet his body prepared for combat, his foot sliding back, knees bending, weight settling into his thighs. He listened and watched for any sign of movement.
Her speed and accuracy would be something that he’d remember. And that she’d never once communicated her intentions.
His body spun, losing balance, and he slapped both forearms out to take the impact. He rolled to the left, using the momentum to get on his feet. He looked right and left, but Iroida was gone. Launching forward, he stopped and held his left knee. The pain started and throbbed, sending bolts of agony from knee to ankle.
Pressing his lips together, he hobbled to a bench, and watched the apartment building. He sent a text to his handler, more than a little pissed.
He’d let her beauty pause him in his duties. That wasn’t going to happen again.
Chapter Two
Iroida
She stood outside the door, listening. Heather was moving around her small apartment, talking in low tones to her dog. Iroida smiled, understanding. She had a hellhound she’d rescued many centuries ago, and through training, treats, and four decades of doting, Bellaroose was a sweetheart. Her best friend, and staunchest ally when things got tough.
She supposed taking the little dog would hurt nobody, and likely help Heather settle into the life waiting for her in Showtime, Montana. A place hidden from the world, and safe for those like Heather.
Iroida snuck a glance at Boone. He couldn’t see her, thanks to the bracelet she wore, so she could openly watch him. He’d been taller, around six – three, with a lean strength she liked. He spoke with a soft Cajun accent, had a lightly tanned skin, bright blue eyes, dark brown hair, and he moved with a poetry she envied. His hands were big, but elegant, and she’d seen the callouses. He likely looked good in the boardroom and wasn’t afraid of physical work. They didn’t build men like him anymore.
She heard noise from the apartment and leaned to listen closer through the door.
Heather’s voice disappeared. Iroida twisted the doorknob and jerked at the fact it was unlocked. She peeked around the door, seeing a small, but well-kept apartment. A couch in the living room faced a gas fireplace, with a TV han
ging above. Large plants in the corners, and a dog bed against one wall. The wood floors broke up the monotony of the white walls, and Iroida noticed no pictures graced the walls. No paintings, not even a poster.
“Heather?” she called. It was eerily quiet, not even the sounds of paws crossing the well-polished floor. Her footsteps quickened, and she swept through the bedroom, bathroom, and opened closet doors. The target was gone.
The window would be the only way out, but it was three stories up. She rushed to the window and looked at the street thirty-five feet below.
“How in the hell-“ she started, and it hit her. There was only one way to get a human out without a trace. Boone wasn’t it. He might be descended of demigods, and had special talents, but disappearing into thin air wasn’t one of them. None of Iudex could do that. The Guardians didn’t employ that particular talent. Only a few others had that ability, and with Heather’s emerging power, they’d want her, badly.
Iroida whirled away from the window and sprinted out of the building. It was too late. The Lumen Veritatis had her.
Finding her SUV, she jumped in, and locked the doors. Starting the engine, she pushed the button to engage the sound dampeners. Nobody from the outside could hear her conversation, nor would any equipment they have be able to pick it up. Looking at her lap, she dialed the main number.
“Mission failed. Veritatis interference, Iudex also on scene.” She tapped to end the call.
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