Dream So Dark: Book 2, Dream Maker Series (Dream Makers Series)

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Dream So Dark: Book 2, Dream Maker Series (Dream Makers Series) Page 7

by Quinn Loftis


  “How am I supposed to tell him these things? I am here.”

  “Not for long,” Dair said and held out his hand. It had been a long time since he’d cast a demon back to the abyss. Such a task wasn’t what he was created for, but any of those who were created by the light of the Creator could call on His power by faith and it would be done.

  “You said you would not cast me out if I spoke,” the demon whined, sounding more like a child than a demonic being.

  “You are a fool if you truly think I will leave you here to continue your attack on the Creator’s children.” Dair closed his eyes and called out to the Creator. I ask in faith that you will hear me, cast this minion back to the pits of hell where he can no longer harm those that are yours. Give ear to my request. Dair felt the light growing in him and spoke the words that came into his mind. “Epiales, I so name you, and by the light of the Creator who you have no power against, I cast you back to hell. Obey and do not return to this domain. LEAVE!” He roared and felt the light leave his body, speeding toward the demon contained in the human body. An inhuman screech filled the room, and the man convulsed before falling back onto the bed. After a few moments, the man’s breath evened out and the presence of the evil was gone.

  Dair walked over to the man and checked his pulse. He appeared to be unharmed. Dair reached into his mind and directed his dreams to push him in a direction that would hopefully turn him from the path he’d previously walked. He truly hoped, without the demonic influence, the man would be able to think clearly and realize how far he’d strayed from his true purpose. Dair hoped the man would realize how many people were hurt because of his unhealthy choices. He left the man, but he didn’t return to Serenity. He felt dirty after having been in the presence of such an old evil. He needed to take some time to gather his thoughts and cleanse himself of the residual evil that might have attempted to cling to him.

  He sent up a prayer that Serenity would be protected. He didn’t know how he would live if anything happened to her. It was bad enough that she was being tortured in her dreams. He didn’t want her tortured while she was awake as well.

  “I’ll be back soon, love,” he murmured as he headed to his next destination. He only wished he’d known when he said those words that it would be nearly a week before he’d see her again. If he’d known that, he would have gone to her immediately. He would have been by her side where he should have been.

  “How long has he been gone?” Glory asked Serenity as she sat in the chair next to her hospital bed.

  “Three days,” Serenity said, trying not to sound as forlorn as she felt.

  “Did he say where he was going?”

  “He was going to check on Emma.” Serenity sighed. “I feel like I would know if something had happened to him. I mean, we sort of have a connection. He can feel what I’m feeling and sometimes I get hints of what he’s feeling.”

  “Maybe he’s just had more people than usual to visit,” Glory suggested.

  Serenity shrugged.

  “O-ooor,” Glory drew out the word. “Maybe he has another woman on the side and he’s got to spend time with her so she doesn’t learn about you.”

  “Really?” She glared at her best friend. “I’m feeling all Dair deprived and that’s what you come up with?”

  “You have D.D. … Dair Deprivation.” Glory laughed. “We need to make sure they put that in your charts and I’ll be sure and share your new diagnosis with the Sandman. He needs to stay apprised of all your medical changes.”

  “You’re a butthead.”

  Glory tsked at her. “If you’re going to start name calling, then please at least make it something more original.”

  “Fine,” Serenity huffed. “You’re the butt of a pig with the head of an otter and the legs of a giraffe. And you suck frog eggs.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of hussy, bitch, parasitic whore, but …” Glory waved her hand in a whatever sort of gesture. “But we can go with what you said. It at least shows you’re making an effort.”

  “Sometimes, I wonder about your sanity,” Serenity said.

  As usual, her words didn’t seem to faze Glory. “Honey, sometimes I worry about my sanity. But life’s too short to worry about crazy. I say we should embrace the crazy. Make sweet love to the insanity that consumes us.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “You just pointed out I might be crazy. In what way would that imply my words would ever make sense? You’re setting the bar too high for my crazy, Serenity. Don’t stress me.”

  Her faux outrage made Serenity laugh. “Fine, I’ll lower the bar. By all means, commence your embracing and love making.”

  “Excellent. Now as free as I am, I’m not an exhibitionist, so I’m going to need some privacy,” Glory said, her words deadpan with no hint of humor.

  A few heartbeats later they were both laughing. Serenity clutched her side as she attempted to stifle her laughter. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts too much.”

  “Suck it up. Laughter is the best medicine, sugar makes the medicine go down and an apple a day keeps the doctor away.”

  “I take it back. The bar is at the top. Keep your crazy contained.”

  Glory shook her head. “Too late, babe. I’m out there Jerry and I’m loving every minute of it.”

  “Seinfeld? Really?”

  “Are you still thinking about dirt boy?”

  “Sandman,” Serenity corrected.

  “He left you here for three days and hasn’t come to check on you. He’s dirt boy until he redeems himself. You do know it is my job to get outraged for you in regard to your man when you will not. It’s in the best friend handbook.”

  “Glory, hun, if there was a best friend handbook, you wouldn’t have read it.”

  “So true. But I would have gotten the cliff notes. Now, enough witty banter. I know you miss Dair, but there’s more to it than that, I can see it in your eyes. What’s going on?”

  Serenity had an internal debate about how much, if anything, she should tell Glory. She didn’t want to worry her friend, but at the same time, she really needed to talk to someone and Dair was MIA. Decision made, she looked her best friend in the eye and said, “I’m being attacked by demons in my sleep.”

  Glory folded her arms in front of her and leaned back in her chair. “Alright, let’s hear it. And for the record, your man is able to manipulate dreams and he’s not here to help you with this? That makes him less than dirt boy.”

  “What’s less than dirt boy?” Serenity asked.

  “Pond scum baby,” Glory answered. “And I’m the sucker fish that’s going to devour him.”

  “That sounds dirty.”

  “He’s pond scum. Of course it sounds dirty.”

  “No, I mean you said you were going to devour my boyfriend.”

  “Not in a yummy, he’s the icing on my cake I want to lick, devour, you twit.”

  Serenity held her hands up. “Okay, okay. Pipe down.”

  “Sleep, demons, attacks, let me hear the rest.” Glory’s eyes zeroed in on Serenity’s face and she’d gone into business mode.

  Serenity took a deep breath and let it out and then poured out all the emotions her nightmares had been causing. It should have been Dair she was talking to, not that she didn’t love Glory. But Dair made her feel safe and protected. She needed him, and yet she didn’t want to be more of a burden to him than she already was. Serenity also didn’t want their relationship built around lies in a misguided attempt to protect each other. So, with a mental kick in the butt, she decided to tell Dair everything she was telling her friend, when he came back.

  Darla and Wayne walked into the DHS office unsure of what exactly they were supposed to do, but both determined to get Emma back.

  “Can we help you?” a portly woman asked as she stepped out of a small office just to the right of the door. Looking past her into the office, Darla could see stacks and stacks of files. So many children in need of help, and yet the only one th
ey could rescue was Emma. If she could save them all, she would. But that wasn’t reality. Her reality was the one child who she knew God had sent to them. Darla knew it in her heart. Emma needed them.

  “We need to know who to talk to about adopting a child that we had been taking care of. She was taken by DHS when her aunt died.”

  Recognition sparked in the woman’s eyes and sympathy followed “You are speaking of Emma Whitmore?”

  Darla nodded. “She was taken and placed with a man who they claimed was her family, but she doesn’t know him. I’m sure she is scared, and we are more than willing to adopt her. We just need to know what to do.”

  The woman motioned for them to follow her into the small office. She moved some charts off the two chairs that sat opposite her behind the desk. She took her seat and motioned for them to do the same. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple,” the woman, who was named Leslie Brummet according to the nameplate on her desk, said. “As long as there is a family member willing to care for Emma, we cannot take her from them and put her with a non-family member.”

  “What if that family member wasn’t worth the ground a dog has peed on?” Wayne asked.

  Leslie’s eyes widened. “Um, well, there would have to be an investigation after a formal complaint was issued.”

  “Okay, yeah, that,” Darla said with a wave of her hand. “That’s what we want to do then, issue a complaint that the scum that has her shouldn’t be allowed to have her.”

  The woman started digging through a file drawer and pulled out a stapled packet of paper. “You will need to fill this out and return it to me.”

  “No need,” Darla said. “We will fill it out now and hand it right back. We don’t want that monster to have her any longer than necessary.”

  “Forgive me for being nosy,” Leslie said with a small amount of hesitation in her voice. “But have you met this man who is keeping Emma?”

  Darla shook her head. “No, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and Emma’s aunt was a horrible caregiver. I can’t imagine that her father is any better. Regardless, Emma belongs with us. She might have been given to different parents for a short time in her life, but ultimately, God had plans for her to become our adopted daughter at some point in her life. That time is now. You need to know, Ms. Brummet, we are prepared to fight this come hell or high water until Emma is back in our home.”

  To Darla’s surprise, Leslie smiled. “I wish we had more citizens like you, willing to take in children who have found themselves, by no fault of their own, in situations where they need new parents. If more would step forward, then so many lives would be saved. And by that I just mean raising up healthy children who became healthy adults. As it is, we have so many damaged children who never heal. They go through their childhood feeling unloved and unwanted. Can you imagine what it must be like to feel that way as a young child? Being an adult and feeling unwanted is one thing, but to be a child without the ability to comprehend the situation, to just be wondering why no one wants you … I don’t know how anyone recovers from that.”

  Darla’s heart broke at the woman’s words. She was right, but what could she do? They were but one couple with limited funds and space in their own home.

  “Don’t mistake my words,” Leslie said, speaking quickly. “I am not trying to guilt you into taking more children. You can only change lives one child at a time, and I realize that not everyone is supposed to foster and adopt. God has different plans for each of us. I guess I just wonder how many out there ignore the call they probably have felt at some time to foster or adopt. I see so much pain in this job, and I just can’t take it all.”

  “The fact that you care so much is a step in the right direction,” Darla assured her. “You can only do so much. Do not take on more than is yours to take.”

  Leslie nodded. “Thank you.” She handed Darla a pen and smiled. “Please, take your time. When you’re done, I will get this processed as quickly as possible.”

  “Thank you, truly, thank you.” Darla’s words were filled with emotion that attempted to flow out of her in the form of tears, but she forced them back and focused on the papers before her. Her pen flew across them as she tried to explain all the reasons she believed Emma was in danger and belonged with them. She hoped and prayed they would have a sensible judge who would truly have Emma’s best interest at heart. That was all she could do until Emma was back with them.

  Chapter Six

  “Sleep used to be an escape. It was a time to shut out the rest of the world and let my body and mind reset. Now, it is simply a dreaded necessity that I cannot avoid, no matter how hard I try. Sleep has become an enemy I can’t outrun, can’t hide from, and have no hope of conquering. It is an enemy that I need, even as I’ve grown to despite it.” ~Serenity

  Fight. That’s all Serenity could think as she blinked furiously to keep her eyes open. It had been five days since the first dream, or since she’d seen Dair, and for five days, she’d dreaded the coming of the night. Glory had stayed one night, but Serenity hated seeing her friend sleeping in a chair. Especially when there was nothing Glory could do to help. Serenity had the nightmares whether her friend was there or not. These days of dread were followed by five nights of utter terror as the nightmares continued to consume her mind each time she drifted off into sleep. The bullet she had taken had been less painful and less frightening than the torture the dreams had put her through.

  Serenity reached for the remote that sat beside her in the hospital bed and turned on the television hanging on the wall across from her. She turned the volume up as loud as it would go. She figured a nurse would be in to check on her, but she didn’t care. She had to stay awake. If she had to sit on ice or eat Jell-O covered in cayenne pepper, she’d do it. She just couldn’t let her eyes close and let her mind be taken over by the hell that had captured it.

  Just as she’d suspected, a few minutes after turning the television on, a nurse popped her head in the door.

  “Everything okay?”

  Serenity nodded. “Just couldn’t hear the show above some of the beeping and chatter out there.”

  The nurse looked at her as though she’d lost a few brain cells along with the blood from the bullet. “Okay then. I’m just going to close the door. Hit your call light if you need something.”

  Serenity nodded and turned to look back at the television as if she were interested in the program. The TV program was the last thing on her mind. She needed answers. What was happening to her? Why was it happening? Would it ever end, or was she doomed to face the fires of hell and tormenting demons in her sleep until she was finally put out of her misery?

  Dair being gone wasn’t helping. She missed him fiercely. She missed his hypnotic voice and his tender touch. Her heart ached and she hated she was on the verge of tears. It wasn’t like it had been months since she’d seen him. It was five bloody days, but it had been the longest five days of her life. She knew he wasn’t off having a blast, he was working and making sure Emma was okay because Serenity had asked him to. And he was trying to figure out why he couldn’t fix whatever was wrong with her. Even knowing those things, she was still selfish enough to want him with her. What kind of person did that make her?

  The day dragged on, and the hands turning on the clock seemed to be moving her closer and closer to her demise. She felt like she was on death row, and the ticking was the countdown to her turn on the table. Exhaustion was the drug that was pushed into the needle leading to her vein, and sleep was the death that would ultimately drag her to hell.

  When had she suddenly become so poetic? Her English teacher would have been proud of the comparisons she’d just made. She’d never been very creative with words, but apparently sleep deprivation was all she needed to become Edgar Allen Poe. And now she was comparing herself to great writers. Modesty was clearly not a side effect of exhaustion.

  The room seemed to dim, subtly, and someone unaware of the Sandman’s existence might have attributed the change
to the simple shifting of the sunlight in the window, but Serenity knew differently.

  “Not that I’m complaining,” Dair started, but Serenity cut him off.

  “If you’re starting with that statement, then you are definitely complaining.” They were both speaking loudly to be heard over the blaring television, still she didn’t lower the volume. She was thankful that for the noise because, hopefully, it meant he wouldn’t be able to hear the catch in her throat. He was back. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest as she stared up at him. He was back and still as gorgeous and mysterious as ever.

  “Fair enough. The television is a bit loud,” he said.

  She sighed, attempting to lay on thick a veil of feigned nonchalant-ness. Serenity was sure she was failing at her attempts to appear unaffected because she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He was all dark and tempting, tall and muscular but lean. He was what Glory would call ‘sex on a stick.’ Though, when she thought about the description she’d heard her friend use so many times in the past, she realized it made absolutely no sense. What exactly was sex on a stick supposed to be?

  Dair stepped closer to the bed and snatched up the remote. He turned the volume down until it was little more than a murmur of background noise and then turned back to look at her.

  “Why do you look confused?” he asked as he set the remote down. She didn’t miss how he’d set it out of her reach.

  Needing to stay awake and continue to attempt to hide her desperate need of him, she decided the topic on her mind just might be interesting enough to keep her from giving in to her exhaustion, so she just blurted it out. “I’m trying to figure out exactly what sex on a stick means.”

  Dair coughed suddenly as though he’d swallowed wrong. His brow rose as he stared down at her, but he didn’t shy away nor blush with embarrassment.

  She probably should have expected the calm demeanor considering he was thousands of years old and, really, what could surprise a person who’d been around for that long? But she’d already opened the can of worms, and she couldn’t close it back now. “It can’t be literal. I mean, who could have sex on a stick? I’m pretty sure that would be impossible. But it’s not used as a verb. It’s used as a noun, so what exactly is Glory saying when she calls a guy sex on a stick?”

 

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