The Gods must have been smiling down on me because when I arrived at the hospital, Knight was nowhere to be found and Dia refused to speak to me which meant my time was my own. I took up residency next to Sam and held her hand as I prattled on about random things that really didn’t matter. I just imagined if I were stuck in a coma, afraid for my life, there would be nothing I’d rather hear than Sam’s voice encouraging me and telling me things were going to be alright. I could only hope she could hear me.
Sam didn’t look any worse than she had the last time I’d seen her—course, I couldn’t imagine it was possible for her to look any worse and still be alive.
After about thirty minutes, I got sick of hearing myself talk so I continued holding Sam’s hand, but turned my thoughts inward. Even though Dia, Knight and now Quill had all said it would be a suicide mission to fight the Dreamstalker in sleep, the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was the only way. Otherwise, we were stuck in a perpetual holding pattern; neither the Dreamstalker nor we were willing to budge. And I knew what the bastard was waiting for—me to finally admit that I needed to meet him on his turf, in dreams.
I turned on the iPad and connected to the Internet, continuing my research into lucid dreaming. I had to imagine this was my answer—if I could gain control of my dreams enough to use magic against the asshole, I could kill him.
I grabbed my backpack and rifled through it until I found a pen and a pad of paper. Then I started jotting down the keys to lucid dreaming, hoping that in writing them down, I’d commit them to memory.
7. Once I realize I’m dreaming, I can take control and alter the dream—changing things like the scenery, the characters, etc. (Note: maybe this would be important in case the Dreamstalker wants to meet me in his own territory.)
8. Pretty much anyone can learn lucid dreaming through motivation and effort. Spontaneous lucid dreams rarely occur. In order to create the lucid dream environment. I have to recognize the fact that I’m dreaming while I’m dreaming.
9. In order to learn lucid dreaming, dream recalling is imperative. Why? Because when I remember my dreams, I become familiar with them—their patterns. This way I can recognize a dream as it happens, thereby allowing me the opportunity to control it.
I glanced up from my notebook and tried to remember the last dream I’d had—I couldn’t recall dreaming at all when Dia had allowed me the sweet respite of an hour and a half. And the time I’d been asleep prior to that was when the Dreamstalker had nearly killed me. I wasn’t sure if that was a good dream to go on—I mean, it had been pretty much controlled by the Dreamstalker entirely so I had to admit the answer to that question was a definite no.
Like a blast from a past that hit me like an anvil over the head, I remembered the first explicit dream I’d ever had about Knight—in it he’d helped me get over Jack, my ex-asshole. Even though I wasn’t thrilled with the content of the dream because it was entirely X-rated, I forced myself to pay attention to it, to write down characteristics that might help me in the future. I had to practice, right?
I turned back to my notebook and continued writing.
Dream with Knight:
I was in my bedroom, naked in my bed. Jack was there and we’d been talking about the fact that he’d really screwed me up since our breakup— I could trace all my trust issues back to him. Jack had proceeded to seduce me and I’d been unable to stop him.
Then there was Knight. Knight told me to let go of Jack, to tell him he was now a part of my past.
I glanced up as I considered the dream—maybe it had been a pseudo lucid dream—I mean, I hadn’t realized I was dreaming but with Knight’s help, I was able to take control of the situation and force Jack into the background where eventually, he disappeared. Maybe I could do the same thing where the Dreamstalker was concerned?
Granted, in the Jack dream I required Knight’s assistance but maybe none of that mattered, especially since Knight said he was only able to interrupt my slumber, not control it. So, did that mean I was responsible for sending Jack away? Maybe it had just been the power of suggestion? Hmm… I’d never really know because I wasn’t about to ask Knight, not when the dream had involved him and his fingers in places I’d rather not think about...
The point was that I’d been able to take control in that dream so why wouldn’t I be able to recreate that same ability?
I turned back to the pad of paper and continued writing, trying to shake images of Knight and the things he did to my naked body.
4. How to take control of a dream: Dream Signs
1. Usually the sleeper can figure out if she’s sleeping by the fantastical elements in dreams—things like flying or seeing dead people. If I can figure out that these signs mean I’m dreaming, I can get control of my dream.
5. What to do if I start to come out of the dream: Spinning
1. If the dream shows signs of ending like a loss of detail or vividness of the imagery, the technique of "spinning" can bring the dream back. Simply spin my dream body around like I’m trying to get dizzy. (Note: what the hell does this mean?)
“Dulcie.”
I glanced up and felt my stomach drop as Knight glared at me. I snapped my journal shut and shoved it back into the backpack before he had the chance to play detective.
“Hi,” I said, not really knowing what else to say.
Knight didn’t say anything or smile but tilted his head slightly in greeting. I couldn’t help the nerves that short-circuited through me. I was uneasy—my sweaty palms were evidence enough. And Knight’s silence wasn’t helping. Then I suddenly remembered the information I had for him.
“I have a list of possible suspects,” I started, my voice edgy. “We’ll need to order blood tests for each one to see if they’ve been ingesting or shooting up Dreamstalker blood.”
“Good,” Knight said. He didn’t appear to be as pissed off as I might have imagined. Or maybe the hurricane just hadn’t made its way this far South yet.
I reached inside my backpack and produced the list of names, handing it to him. He didn’t even bother glancing at it, but folded it in half and put it under his arm. “I’m hungry, care to join me?” he asked and I could honestly say it was the last thing I would have imagined to come out of his mouth.
Taken aback, it took me a second to respond. I glanced at Sam and wasn’t sure I should leave her side. “One of us should watch her.”
“I’ll put Trey on it,” he said quickly and poked his head out of the door, hollering down the hallway to Trey. He glanced at me again and his jaw was tight like he was holding something back. “We won’t be gone long—I’ll hit the drive through.”
I didn’t say anything else but stood up and grabbed my backpack, not wanting to leave the iPad unattended. Knight turned on his foot and started for the door, me right behind him. I wasn’t sure if he was going to call me on the fact that I’d ditched Dia and wasn’t supposed to be at the hospital but I figured I’d leave that conversation to him.
“Where do you feel like going?” he asked, as we walked into the elevator.
“I don’t care. I’m really not hungry.”
He nodded but it wasn’t a nod that was in any way understanding—especially not by the fact that his jaw was just as tight as it had been. I had to wonder why he wasn’t freaking out on me yet. This wasn’t like Knight. Maybe he didn’t want to cause a scene in the hospital?
“Wendy’s it is, then.”
I followed him to his BMW and pulled open the passenger door before he could open it for me. He eyed me discouragingly but said nothing. Once I was buckled in and we were driving down the road, I couldn’t handle the silent treatment any longer.
“So, why aren’t you yelling at me yet?” I demanded.
“Why did you think I would?”
“Um, because I know you too well.”
He chuckled but it sounded forced. He came to the stop sign at the end of the street and hung a left. Wendy’s was to the right.
“You’re going the wrong
way.”
“I like the Wendy’s closer to my house,” he answered. Fast food was fast food. Wendy’s hamburger patties were just as square here as they were in his neck of the woods, but, who was I to argue? Knight could have his little OCD tendencies—that was fine by me. I settled back into my chair, surprised by the fact that I hadn’t been read my rights yet. Maybe this day was going to be better than I’d imagined.
“So, given the fact that the Dreamstalker isn’t a real one, don’t you think we should change the way we’re going after it? Clearly the sitting and waiting game isn’t working,” I started, finding his silence less than thrilling.
He took another turn in the opposite direction from his house.
“And what did you have in mind?” he asked.
My attention was pulled from the fact that either Knight’s sense of direction was seriously shitty or he was pulling a fast one on me. “I think we need to go after it on its turf,” I said absentmindedly before turning to the more important subject. “Where the hell are you taking me?”
“Fighting it on its turf is a suicide mission,” he began, apparently ignoring my second question. “We’ve already had this discussion.”
“Enough with trying to avoid the real question here, Knight, where are we going?” He didn’t answer but he really didn’t need to once he turned down my street. The answer was pretty crystal clear. “Why are we going to my house?” I insisted.
He said nothing but parked in front of my apartment building and then turned to face me and his expression was blank. “We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way.”
While I tried to understand what the hell he was talking about, my heart began pounding as it jumped to conclusions. He stepped out of the car and before I had the chance to think, he was at my side, opening the door for me.
“What is this about?” I demanded.
“Dulcie, step out of the car. We need to have a conversation.”
“To hell with you,” I blurted and undid my seatbelt as I jumped out of the car, attempting to sidestep him. His hand was like iron as it wrapped around my wrist. “Let go of me,” I seethed.
He shrugged. “If you want to make a spectacle of yourself in front of your neighbors, I have no problem with that. If you want more privacy, then let’s take it inside.”
I gulped, suddenly afraid he’d figured out I was on something. What else could this have been about? Knight wasn’t stupid. I said nothing but started for my apartment, with half a mind to sic Blue on him. At least the Mandrake was buried deep in my panties drawer. And it wasn’t like I was about to admit anything about the Mandrake to him anytime soon. So, for now, my secret was safe.
I unlocked my front door and he pushed it open. I stepped inside the apartment and he closed and locked the door behind me.
“What the hell is this all about?”
He took off his coat and draped it over a chair by the door. “It’s about the Mandrake, Dulcie.”
I felt my heart drop to my feet. He knew. “What…what are you talking about?”
He laughed but the sound was bitter. “Enough. It wasn’t difficult to figure out—you haven’t slept in over five days; you look sick and you’re hallucinating.”
“So what? Those are all common side effects resulting from sleeplessness.”
He scoffed at me, crossing his arms against his great expanse of chest. “And you expect me to believe you’ve been staying awake on caffeine?” he asked. “Please.”
“You can leave now,” I said as a pang of anxiety overcame me. He was going to try to get me to give up the Mandrake. I had one dose left and there was no way in hell I was going to let him take it from me. Beads of perspiration formed along my hair line and I could already feel them gliding down the small of my back. But, none of that mattered. What did matter was that Knight knew my secret and he was going to try to take me off the Mandrake. Or maybe he was going to arrest me?
He reached inside his pants pocket and produced a white pill the size of a dime. He handed it to me. “Like I said, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
“What is that?” I asked, backing away from it.
“It’s Corel Root,” he started. “Direct from the Netherworld. It’ll clear you out and speed up your withdrawals. You’re going to be a hell cat to deal with for the next few hours but I can handle it.”
I glared at him and shook my head. “I’m not taking that.”
He shrugged and put the pill back into his pocket. “The hard way it’ll be then.”
Before I had the chance to respond, he lurched for me and grabbed hold of my waist, hefting me over his shoulder. I yelled and batted my ineffectual hands against his massive back but I might as well have been a toddler putting up a fight for all the good it did me.
Without even thinking, I shook my fist until a mound of fairy dust emerged, then I dumped it on him, envisioning him shrinking until he was mouse-sized. The fairy dust just shimmered on his shoulders in an array of ineffectual glitter and fell to the ground as he chuckled.
“Your magic won’t work on me or have you forgotten?”
I had remembered but by that time, I’d already doused him. Not that it mattered now anyway—my magic might not work but my fists and legs would. I beat against his back repeatedly and then attempted to de-ball him with a well-aimed foot to his nads but neither approach was successful. He merely deposited me against the couch and even as I attempted to get up, he was on top of me, straddling and holding my legs down with his thighs. Now with my legs out of the fighting picture, I tore at him with fists and nails but he didn’t act fazed and, instead, forced my arms down.
“I’m trying to help you, Dulcie.”
“Like hell you are,” I seethed. “Get off me!”
I’m not sure how he did it since his hands were busily engaged with holding me down, but he managed to pull the Corel Root from his pocket and before I could stop him, he had my lips pursed together like a fish. He forced the pill between them and slammed his palm over my mouth, preventing me from any chance to spit it out.
“Swallow it,” Knight demanded.
Once the thing hit my tongue, it dissolved and felt like sand, spreading over my tongue and the back of my throat. A second or so later, nothing was left. I turned my head to the side, thinking I could spit out whatever was left but Knight wedged his arm between the couch and my face until I found myself glaring back up at him again. Figuring I’d lost the battle, I swallowed.
“There, I swallowed the fucking thing, are you happy now?”
He made no motion to get off me. “Now the fun starts.”
“What the hell is that supposed to…”
Before I could complete my sentence, I was silenced by what felt like liquid heat coursing through me. It started as a gentle warmth, like drinking warm coffee. But the gentle warmth began to spread and the temperature increased until it felt like a furnace erupting within me. I thought for sure I’d become a victim of spontaneous combustion. I thrashed back and forth, trying to quell the flames even as they burned me from the inside out.
“I’m on fire!” I screamed.
“It’s in your imagination,” Knight responded coolly, his hands restraining me until I could barely wiggle against the couch.
I clenched my eyes shut tight and screamed as the pain ripped through me.
“Dulcie, just be strong, you will get through this,” Knight’s voice interrupted me.
I opened my eyes, which were now streaming with tears and faced him in ire. “I hate you!” I screamed. “You did this to me!”
I tried to push up from my position on the couch, straining against him, but he was like trying to move a boulder.
“This will last a few more seconds,” he ground out.
Another firestorm coursed through me and I wailed out again, writhing in agony. Pretty soon my screams were reduced to whimpers as the fire started to die down, feeling more like glowing embers in my stomach. After another few seconds, the pai
n subsided entirely.
I blinked a few times and opened my eyes. “It stopped,” I started in a coarse voice.
Knight nodded and sat up, stretching his arms out. “It’s not over.”
“What do you mean?” I insisted in shock. “I can’t take any more of that pain.”
He shook his head. “The pain is over but you’re going to go through withdrawals—what would normally take days is going to take about a half hour.”
“I didn’t just go through withdrawals?” I continued, my voice betraying fear and anger.
Knight shook his head and sighed. “Nope, that was just the beginning.”
I laid back against the couch, more frightened than I’d ever been. And it wasn’t a rational fear, necessarily, it was more a fear that had to do with the Mandrake leaving my body, being forced out by the Corel Root. And the answer to my problems was suddenly obvious. I needed that last Mandrake dose, I needed it like nothing I’d ever needed before. I had to remind myself that physically, I wasn’t able to take on Knight, I was like a fly to his lion. That meant I’d have to rely on my smarts, on my feminine wiles. And one thing I was more than aware of was the fact that Knight wanted me.
I couldn’t help my smile as I realized I had a weapon that was entirely more powerful than brawn. “I’m okay,” I said and laid my head back against the couch, my chest heaving with my elevated breathing.
Knight continued straddling me, staring down at me as if trying to figure out if I was trying to pull a fast one.
“I mean it, I’m fine,” I repeated.
All I could focus on was getting my hands on the last dose of Mandrake and if I could catch Knight unaware enough, I could grab the Op 7 he always wore somewhere on his person. Then I could force him to let me take the Mandrake or risk being shot.
I tried to sit up and was surprised and pleased when he allowed me to. I glanced at him and smiled, realizing I’d have to do a convincing job of seducing him. I was hardly the femme fatale type but at that moment, I summoned any acting ability I possessed, hoping to channel Marilyn Monroe, Jean Harlow, or failing them, Madonna in the “Vogue” video.
A Tale of Two Goblins Page 16