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Broken Wings: Genesis

Page 8

by A. J. Rand


  My struggles increased to make his access to me more difficult. I needed to buy a few moments to sort it all out. While my body wiggled around to avoid having him get a solid hold on me, I took a quick look around.

  The dreamscape was my living room. That’s where Chaz must have out me to sleep after my work on Ke. And it felt like my living room, not strange and distorted. Good. That meant he was in my dreamscape and not the other way around.

  Black Wolf leaned in close to whisper in my ear. “This could be good for both of us.”

  “Not likely.” I spat in his face.

  My ears rang with the force of his slap across my face. Morpheus had been right. There was so much more to this guy than what was on the surface. It was one thing for a dream stalker to come into your dreamscape and insinuate himself into the subconscious acceptance of his presence by the victim. Knowingly or not, the victim became an active, accepting participant. I was not accepting, and worse yet––he was beating me on my own turf. Even Morpheus couldn’t beat me on my own turf. No wonder this guy had disturbed him.

  Tracker or not, playing into this guy’s twisted need for domination wasn’t on my agenda. I pulled on the depths of my outrage and let it build inside of me. When I couldn’t hold the overflow, I let it escape in a chilling scream of raw, primal energy.

  The look of Black Wolf’s face might have been comical if the situation had any humor to it. But it wasn’t funny––not in the slightest. It made him pause, though, and that’s all I was after. His hesitation loosened his grip on my wrists for the split second needed to exert all of my energy to ripping my arms from his grasp.

  His eyes narrowed, and his other hand came up to my throat. I could feel the blackness swimming across my vision as his grip tightened. I went to pull the hand away, but a second set of hands grabbed my wrists and held them at my side. Did he have a partner in the dreamscape? That would explain his extra power in here.

  But I didn’t feel the need to struggle against the hold on my wrists. Another body stepped up to my back, and warmth enveloped me, infusing me with power. My vision returned to clarity and I met Black Wolf’s eyes with renewed strength. His grip on my throat loosened and he started to fade from my dreamscape. Just before he vanished from sight, he gave me the look. It was that look of determination, the one that said he would be back. All of the bad guys give that same look. But that’s okay. I’d be ready for him next time. I certainly wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice with him.

  I let my body slump against the person at my back, thinking maybe it was Morpheus. But it didn’t feel like his energy. This was different. My body began to tingle and I could feel the empowering glow of violet light build and fill my emptied reserves. It was an incredible feeling.

  The rest of the dreamscape faded away, and I found myself standing before a great tree. The branches of the tree created a canopy overhead that stretched out of sight into the heavens. Somehow I knew the roots beneath the surface of the earth stretched as far and wide is the upper branches. There was a well near the base of the tree, with a large, giant of a man standing next to it.

  The sound of a trumpet rang through the air, its note lingering as a rider on a pale horse rode up to the well. The giant bowed before the rider, a look of deep sadness in his expression. He looked at me and shook his head. The rider turned to leave and the giant followed.

  It felt to me as though they were disappointed in something. Was that something me? Had I done or not done something to elicit their disappointment? Normally what happened in the dreamscape wouldn’t give me cause for anxiety, but for some reason this did. It felt important in the scheme of things, and I didn’t understand why.

  I wanted to understand. I took a step toward their retreating backs, but the person at my back held me in place. My attention turned toward the well. The water levels had risen, spilling out of the stone basin. It stank of raw sewage and I wanted to step back from the black, polluted substance pouring out like a waterfall over the edges of the well walls. I couldn’t move back from that, either. Whoever held me, kept me rooted in place.

  As the foul water hit the ground at the base of the tree, it turned to the color of blood. This dissipated into the ground, as though being absorbed by a sponge. The roots of the tree must have been sucking it all in, because the same color red––blood red––started to seep up the base of the tree.

  In minutes, the color covered the height of the main trunk and began spreading out toward the branches. Where it touched the leaves, they yellowed and withered, falling from the tree. The pollution worked quickly through the branches, and the leaves were falling all around me. When they hit the ground, they turned to snow.

  The cold was building in the air, but the warmth at my back was sustaining. A deep sadness came over me, and I felt a tear slide down my face to crystallize in the frozen air. I knew what the tree was. I just didn’t know what it meant.

  I closed my eyes. “Yggdrasil––”

  “Yes, the World-Tree.”

  My eyes flew open at the voice caressing my ear. Dreamscapes could be so disorienting and so real. It was sometimes hard to discern reality from the stuff of dreams. I was back in my living room, sitting on the couch. My hands were held to my sides and the body was still pressed against my back. It took me a moment to realize what was different. I was no longer in the dreamscape. This was my apartment, and I was wide-awake.

  I pushed away from the person at my back, scrambling to get away. The hold on my wrists was released. I turned to face the one who had held me. It was Ke. I was at a loss for words, still sorting through the confusion of what had happened. Had he brought the dreaming, or had he saved me from the dream stalker?

  He pulled back even further, giving me space. “I heard you scream in your sleep.”

  I was still confused. My thoughts went around in circles, trying to sort through everything. “What happened?” The words were meant to come out a lot stronger, but it hurt my throat to speak.

  He stared at me long and hard before answering. “Your screams brought me out of the bedroom.”

  “And?” I asked when it looked as though he would leave it there.

  “And I came to wake you, to calm you down.” He added with a frown, “I thought it was because of what had happened earlier––”

  He seemed as unsure as I was as to what had happened.

  “So you didn’t do that to me?”

  Ke looked as though I had slapped him. “I don’t touch women. Not in the physical, and certainly not in their dreams.”

  “Oh.” I was surprised. “You’re gay?”

  I could see the confusion in his face as he rolled the thought around in his mind.

  “You know––gay. You prefer men to women?” Who was this guy?

  The look on his face was pure shock. “No. I wouldn’t––I don’t––”

  I almost felt sorry for him, but not enough to stop pushing forward. I needed answers, and I was betting dollars to doughnuts that he had at least a few of them in that pickled brain of his.

  “Okay. So you’re not gay, and you didn’t send the dream.”

  “No. On both accounts.”

  “You helped me, then.” My throat felt raw and scratchy.

  “I didn’t know what was happening at the time.”

  I got up from the couch and wandered into the kitchen area, which was open space to one side of the room with appliances, all closed in by a bar of counters and cupboards, above and below. “It was a dream stalker that I had just started tracking when you showed up at my door. After working on you, expending as much energy as I did, I forgot to guard my dreams against him.”

  “What did you do to me?” His face was puzzled. He kept looking down at his body, examining it.

  “Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “This is my turn. You don’t get to show up at my doorstep and get everything without giving something back in return.”

  “Isn’t that what you do?” His look was unreadable, but I was defin
itely his focus now.

  “What do you mean?” I pulled a glass out of my cupboard and filled it with cold, filtered tap water. At the last minute, I thought to offer him some. “Water?”

  He nodded. “You know what I mean, don’t be obtuse. You give of yourself to help everyone else around you without thought or consideration for yourself or your own well being.”

  I frowned, bringing two glasses of water out from the kitchen and handed one to him. “I don’t know. I’m pretty selfish.”

  “No, you might be careful, guarded, unwilling to share your emotions, impatient with politics, and certainly not worried about stepping on the feelings of other when you need to get something important done. But selfish? I don’t think so.”

  I stared at him over the rim of my glass. The protective barrier that kept the world out was sliding into place. Where did this guy get off thinking he knew me so well? The fact that he was far too correct for my comfort zone was irrelevant. Or at least, that what’s I was trying to tell myself.

  I held the glass between my fingers and looked into the water for focus. When I met his eyes again, my shields were in place, and the emotion gone from my face. He was definitely right about that part. I didn’t like to share my “emotional self” with anyone.

  “So––what? Are you going to spend time convincing me you know all of this because of a past life together? As angels?” It was laughable, but I wasn’t particularly amused. “People do change, you know. Isn’t that what reincarnation is supposed to be all about?”

  “You haven’t changed at all.”

  “So this other place in the dreamscape––with Yggdrasil. Was that another supposed past life experience together?”

  “No.” He looked away. “I don’t know what that was.”

  My eyes narrowed. That last part had been a lie. It was obvious. But if he had such a hard time lying, then he obviously believed the other. I leaned across him to put my glass on the table in front of the couch.

  His hand reached out to take my wrist. He turned it over, closely examining the marks that were just beginning to show from the dream stalker’s attack. Without letting go of my wrist, he looked up to meet my eyes. His were full of concern. His other hand came up to touch my cheek and then gently tip my head back. Gentle, probing fingers caressed the place at my throat where Black Wolf had tried to choke me. I flinched, but not because it hurt. My reaction was to the gentleness of his touch. I could deal with pain.

  “Humans never cease to amaze me, with their capacity to inflict pain upon others.”

  “And you’re not human?” My head moved back to look him in the eye. His hand fell away from my throat.

  “No, I––” His eyebrows came together, furrowing his brow. He looked confused, and then panicked. His hand dropped away as though the touch burned him. “What have you done?”

  “What––?” It was my turn to be confused. I didn’t get it.

  Ke was touching his body, poking, probing. He turned frantic eyes to me––almost angry eyes.

  “What did you do to me?” The words came out as a harsh demand for an answer.

  “I––I don’t know.” Wow, this guy was tweaked. “I healed you while you were sleeping?”

  “How?” He grabbed for me, but I was too quick for him.

  “I don’t know!” My words came out as a shout. “I just did what that woman in the dreamscape did. I pulled the pieces of the two separate energies together and combined them into a single weave.”

  His face went white. “Undo it.”

  I was shaking my head.

  “Undo it.” His voice was stronger, rising to a level of barely controlled hysteria.

  “I can’t. I don’t know how I did it in the first place.”

  My words to a while to register. He stared at me, begging me with his eyes to tell him that I was lying. I saw when he finally realized that I was telling the truth. His composure crumpled and he sank back into the couch, with the look of someone who had gone into deep shock.

  “Yesh, is everything okay?” Chaz was stumbling out of his bedroom, his voice groggy from just waking.

  “Evidently not.”

  “What––?”

  “I don’t know, kid. Mr. Gratitude here doesn’t seem to like the way I healed him.”

  Chaz raised his eyebrows with question.

  “You don’t understand.” Ke said in a voice soft with shock.

  “No, I don’t. So maybe you should clue me in.”

  He didn’t respond. I’d had enough.

  “Fine. Whatever. Tell me. Don’t tell me. I need a shower to wash the slime off me.”

  Chaz had come closer and was just noticing the marks on my neck and wrists. From the heat on my face, I was betting there was a good red mark there, too. “Yesh–”

  “Dream stalker. Caught me off guard. I’m hitting the shower.”

  “But––”

  I kept walking.

  “You have doomed us all.” Ke’s voice made me pause, but I was too pissed to deal with him right now. I liked him better when he was unconscious.

  “Whatever you say, pal.” I stepped into the bathroom, calling back before I closed the door, “It would be great if there were some coffee ready when I’m done.”

  Chapter 12

  I don’t ask for a lot out of life. Some alone time, good coffee, and a hot shower––it all works for me. But what I really want is for people to stay out of my way and let me do my job. It was what I knew, and I was good at it.

  If Ke hadn’t gotten in my way, I wouldn’t be scrubbing my skin raw trying to get off the feeling of layered slime, tenderly probing bruises along the way. The dream stalker had gotten me, but good. The bruises on my wrists, the marks on my neck from his choking fingers, bruised teeth marks above my right breast, and almost a perfect blackened handprint on my inner left thigh. The slap to my face still tingled, but I didn’t think it was going to leave a mark.

  Okay, so maybe Ke had stopped him from doing worse. I was grudging with the admission. But if I hadn’t expended all that energy to help someone who didn’t seem to want it anyway, I would’ve remembered to shield myself like a good little tracker should. That improved my mood. I could put the blame back on him.

  I didn’t understand what the big deal was. It was one of the most incredible pieces of healing work I’d ever done. I guess what they say is true. Pride goeth before the fall. I decide to take a little pride in what I thought was a major achievement, and I get the rug yanked out from under me.

  My body still didn’t feel near to clean enough, but the hot water was starting to lose its sting. Since I wasn’t in it for the cold shower, it was time to get out. The length of my hair was towel-dried and left to hang while I wrapped another towel around me and tucked it tight.

  I went straight to the bedroom without bothering to look in the living room. Not yet. When I was ready, I’d meet them on my own terms. I was done playing around. I grabbed my big, over-sized robe and threw it on, belting it snug at the waist.

  Barefoot, belted and with wet hair, I walked out. Chaz was on the couch where I’d sat earlier. It didn’t look as though Ke had moved. I was still trying to grasp what the deal was with him, and I planned to find out.

  I followed the aroma of brewing coffee to the kitchen area and helped myself. Chaz had set out the sugar and creamer. Smart kid. After diluting it with enough sugar and creamer to leave only a residual bitterness that still marked it as coffee, I went and sat across from the couch in a big chair, curling my feet up under me. I took my time staring at Ke over my coffee. After a while, I set it off to the side and folded my hands in my lap.

  “Okay, angel boy, start talking.”

  Ke raised his eyebrows at my flippancy. “And where would you have me start? With the overall picture? There’s too much to even begin to comprehend. With the angels and the role you played? You don’t believe me anyway. How about the part where you brought doom to us all?”

  Good. At least he wasn’
t in shock any more. I didn’t have to be so gentle with him.

  “How about the overall picture part? You can segway into the part about angels and leave the doom thing for last.”

  Chaz heard the sarcastic irritation in my voice. “Maybe if you agreed to listen with an open mind, he wouldn’t have such a hard time telling you what’s going on. He’s tried before and you shut him down.”

  My lips curved into a mocking smile. It was directed at myself, but I’d let them take it however they wanted to. The kid was calling me to task on my behavior for the second time in two days. Good for him.

  “Fair enough.” My head tipped in acknowledgement. “I will listen with an open mind to what you have to say. I can’t promise I’ll accept it, but I will listen.”

  Ke nodded. “It’s a start.”

  He was quiet for a while. I took another sip of coffee and set the cup back down. “So go ahead––start.”

  “Yesh––”

  “Fine.”

  Ke shifted in his seat and looked at the ceiling. “There is a balance between light and darkness in this world. It has been that way since the beginning of creation.”

  “Okay.”

  “But light and darkness doesn’t have so much to do with perceptions of good and evil, as they do with letting things happen in the natural order, or whether you choose to force things to happen because you want them to.”

  I held back a sigh. This was going to take a while.

  “Most of your stories handed down through the ages have a grain of truth to them. This is particularly true of your religious stories and texts.”

  No kidding. I knew this part.

  “As with any story that is passed along, it changes from telling to telling until the end result only holds a grain of the original truth, altered by the perception of whomever was telling the story at the time.”

  “I’m with you so far.” And I was. He had said nothing yet I didn’t already know, and most of which I’d had firsthand experience with.

  “Even the texts that define most of your major religions were written by men, mortals, long after the telling of the stories had been diluted through the years.”

 

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