by Deanna Chase
“This is delicious,” I mumbled after the first bite. My omelet was full of fresh tomatoes, mushrooms, chives, avocado and swiss cheese—just the way I like it. “You remembered.”
Kane winked and poured me a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table.
“Thank you,” I said after taking a sip. “Everything is wonderful.”
“You’re welcome.” As he gazed at me, his smile vanished, and he suddenly became very interested in pushing the eggs around on his plate.
What happened? Was he having second thoughts? Who wouldn’t after my emotional outburst? I suppressed a sigh and shoved a fork-full of omelet in my mouth.
“Jade.” Kane brought both arms down on the table and turned to look me dead in the eye. His determined expression caused me to pause mid-bite. “Who’s the man in your dreams?”
I choked. “What?”
“The one you dreamed of last night. Usually powerful dreams like that feature people you know.”
“What makes you think I was dreaming of a man?”
Agitation radiated off him, ripping holes in my emotional armor. “Let’s not play this game. I know because I saw him.”
“What? You saw my ghost?”
His eyes went wide, surprised, and he straightened. “The ghost? The one Ian’s been hunting? He’s the one you’ve been dreaming about?”
I set the coffee cup down, furrowed my eyebrows and asked, “How exactly did you know about my dreams?” Had he spoken to Ian?
He didn’t say anything, his face hard as he stared me down.
“Ian told you?”
He shook his head and frowned. “You told Ian?”
“He’s the ghost hunter. Of course I told him. If it wasn’t Ian, then who told you?” No one else knew.
He blew out a breath, and pushed his uneaten breakfast away. “You did.”
“What! No I didn’t.” I knew without a doubt we hadn’t had that conversation. “I certainly would remember—”
Kane held a hand up. “You told me in your dreams.”
I gaped, too stunned to talk.
“I have something to tell you,” he continued, focusing on something over my shoulder.
“Clearly.” My voice held a slight chill.
He raised his determined eyes to mine and held the intent stare for a long moment. I was sure he was searching for my soul. “Have you heard of dreamwalking?”
“Yes, that’s when you travel in your dreams, right?” Gwen’s best friend Annabelle, back in Idaho, swore she traveled all over the world in her dreams. Her descriptions and tales were so vivid and entertaining, it was easy to believe it was possible.
“Yes, for some people. My dreamwalking is a bit different.”
Torn between curiosity and aggravation, I pushed the food around on my plate until finally, curiosity won out. “Okay, tell me about your dreamwalking.”
“When I was little, I had very vivid dreams about people I knew.” He shook his head, rose from the chair, and started pacing the kitchen. “Not about people, really, but more like dreams from their point of view. They were always people I was close to, so I figured it was natural to dream of them and their emotions.” He paused. “As I got older the dreams changed, became more intense, and I was able to watch from the person’s perspective. Or I could interact in the dream, like a character in a movie.”
A slow ball of uneasiness grew in the pit of my stomach. I leaned back in the chair, picked up the coffee, set it back down, then asked in a whisper, “You dreamwalk my dreams?”
He took a deep breath and nodded.
“Oh, God.” I stood up, turned and strode out into the courtyard. I walked to the far end, stopping at a fountain with a stone fleur de lei spouting water in a steady stream. Kane’s footsteps scraped on the bricks behind me, but he didn’t say anything.
My face burned, no doubt the color crimson. Unwilling to face him, I continued to stare into the clear pool in the fountain basin, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.
“I’m sorry, Jade,” he said softly. “I know it’s an intrusion, and I’m sorry for it. But I—”
My temper broke, and I turned on him. “Stop. Just stop. How could you? Do you have any idea of how violated I feel right now?”
His eyes squinted as he frowned. “I can imagine. But I thought you felt it.”
“Felt it? Of course I felt it. You were making love to me in my dreams. It wasn’t just me dreaming it. You were there? Participating?” The last of my words were barely audible as my voice broke. My own anger and humiliation pressed a heavy weight on my heart.
His eyes turned sad and a small tinge of pain reached me. “Something like that.”
Pushing past him, I grabbed my purse from the counter, ran through the house and out the front door.
The tears gathered quickly. Blinking hard, I tried to hold them back and disappeared around the nearest corner. I prayed he wouldn’t follow me. As I hurried down the street, I realized unless I went to Kat’s place, he would be able to find me. And I couldn’t go to Kat’s with Dan there. “Damn!”
Nowhere to go but home. Maybe I could just lock the door and pretend I didn’t exist.
***
Ten minutes later I limped passed Pyper’s red VW Bug and stopped in front of my building’s entrance. I hoped she was at the café and not just inside. Careful to make as little noise as possible, I slowly pulled the heavy door open and peeked in.
“Who are you sneaking up on?” a voice whispered from behind me.
I let go of the door and jumped. It slammed with a loud thunk. “Holy shit!” I turned, finding Pyper standing behind me, with a twitch of a smile.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Her smile grew then faded as her brow creased in concern. “What happened?”
“Just a fight,” I muttered, waving a hand to signify unimportance.
“Uh-oh, what did he do now? You’re talking about Kane, right? The big date was last night?” She rolled her eyes at my nod. “Men can be so dense.” She whipped her key out and reopened the door. “It couldn’t have been all bad though, if you’re just getting home.” Her gaze roamed down the length of my body to my feet. Her lips turned into a teasing smile. “Forget your shoes again?”
I grimaced and moved past her, making my way up the stairs. With my ankle starting to throb, I grasped the railing and took my time, trying not to think about what must be glued to the bottom of my feet after walking barefoot through the French Quarter.
“Hey,” Pyper called as she bounded up the steps. “Really, are you okay?”
I gave a slight nod, unlocked my door and turned around. “Did you know Kane dreamwalks?”
Pyper’s eyes widened then narrowed. “Is he dreamwalking you?”
I nodded, fiddling with my keys.
“Damn.”
“You knew of this special gift?”
“Yeah.” She studied me, searching for something, but I didn’t know what.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone for a while.” I tried to close the door, but her hand stopped me. We stared at each other for a few moments until I lost my patience. “What?”
She pursed her lips. “Look, I know you’re upset and believe me, normally I would never stick my nose into anyone else’s relationship, but I think you have to know this.” She paused.
I waited.
“If Kane is dreamwalking you, it’s serious.”
I let out a mocking laugh. “Serious? No kidding, talk about invasion of privacy.” A heavy dose of guilt rocked me. Invasion of privacy. The same thing I’d done to Kane—spying on his emotions. The same thing I’d done to Dan for years and never told him. No wonder he’d felt so betrayed and hurt when I’d finally revealed my gift. I stumbled backward into the apartment and sat heavily on my worn sofa.
Pyper followed. She sat next me and took my hand. “No, Jade. I meant his feelings are serious. From what I know of Kane, he doesn’t dreamwalk on purpose, at least not these days. So, i
f he walked your dreams, it’s because of a deep connection to you.”
“Has he done it to you?”
She broke eye contact and grimaced, then nodded. “It’s been a long time, though.”
“I see,” I said with a hint of ice in my voice. “Then you know how it feels.” She opened her mouth to speak, but spurned by irrational jealously and inner turmoil, I cut her off. “I’d really like it if you left me alone now.”
I felt the sting of my words penetrate her tough exterior. She stood and walked to the door. “If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”
“Pyper?”
Holding the doorknob, she glanced back at me.
“I’m sorry. I just need to process this.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” The door shut softly behind her.
Somewhere deep inside, a nagging voice told me I was overreacting. Nothing Kane had done was worse than what I’d done to him. I’d spied on his emotions. He’d been an active participant in my dreams. Either action was a huge intrusion.
But damn, my dreams were so personal.
As if his emotions aren’t. I snorted loudly and clenched my fists in frustration.
The worst part was I didn’t know how much my desire for Kane was based on my own feelings or a result of what we’d done while he dreamwalked me. I’d always desired Kane. I had since the first day we’d met. But in the dreams I’d experienced a passion I’d never known, escalating that desire into something I couldn’t resist. Now I knew Kane himself had influenced at least some of that without me knowing.
It made me feel used and manipulated.
Is that how Dan had felt after I told him I could sense his emotions?
I’d spent my childhood ostracized by my peers for knowing things I shouldn’t. One doesn’t make friends easily when teachers force you to tell on other students by reading which ones have a guilty conscience. My only defense was to keep my gift to myself and try to be as invisible as possible. But the damage had been done. I’d been labeled the town freak.
That changed when I’d moved to Boise shortly after I’d lost my mom. I’d shut off that part of my life completely, vowing to never tell anyone about my gift. Only one person knew: Kat. She’d lived for a short time in the small town I was from and had known me before I lost my mom. She’d said she thought my gift was kind of cool, and we’d become best friends then and there.
When Dan had come along I’d kept my vow, especially after he’d saved Kat and me from the horrors of that foster home. I hadn’t wanted him to know I’d experienced everything he’d felt that night. At the time, it had seemed too much to bear.
But when he’d proposed years later, I found myself unable to accept until he knew the truth. I’d known he’d be upset. I’d lied to him—for years—too locked up in my own fears to trust him.
At first he’d scoffed, unable to believe I had such a gift. Then he’d spent three days grilling me on the status of his emotional energy. Finally I’d snapped, and explained in great detail everything he’d felt the day he’d proposed. The information had rocked him to his core.
He’d definitely been hurt, but I’d been shocked to feel deep-seeded twinges of disgust and horror. All the rejection of my childhood had come roaring back. And a week later when he’d slept with someone else, I’d sensed it immediately. His intense satisfaction at hurting me had ended us then and there.
I’d hated him for it. But now, I had to stop and wonder what I’d done to him. He’d always said he’d loved me because I understood him in ways even he didn’t always recognize. He’d believed in soul mates and often said how lucky he was to find me. Had he thought I’d done anything to manipulate his emotions? I couldn’t change what he was feeling, but I could read them and use them to my advantage.
Did he feel used? Betrayed? The same way I felt with what Kane had done.
The guilt weighed heavy on my soul. Suddenly, I had to get out of my apartment.
Ten minutes later, the tension in my shoulders eased slightly when I sat behind my work bench in the studio. It was exactly what I needed, and I’d be safe from any unwanted company. Ready to be immersed, I turned the volume on my IPod to high and then lit my torch.
It must have been late afternoon by the time I finished the last bead of the day. The air conditioner had been no match for the June heat. I was soaked in sweat, but I was calmer. Mission accomplished. After cleaning up, I splurged and called a cab. My ankle needed a rest.
Chapter 12
Emerging from the bathroom in old, faded jeans and a T-shirt, I crossed the room to shut the window. I pulled the latch closed and jumped at a sudden movement. Kane stood in front of me.
“Feeling better?” he asked through the glass.
“Jesus, Kane. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” A thin thread of appreciation reached me.
I scowled. What exactly did he appreciate? My fresh-from-the-shower look? My hands curled into fists. It was a damn good thing glass separated us. For him, anyway. “How long have you been here?”
“A while.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Can you open the window?”
Feeling the urge to deck him, I ignored the request. How dare he intrude on my private space? “Did you come in while I was in the shower?”
He shook his head slowly. “You weren’t here. I waited.”
I laughed humorlessly. “Figures. What? Used your landlord key?” That meant he’d been on my balcony the whole time I’d been home. I felt violated all over again.
He nodded.
“Bastard.” I spat.
“No argument here.”
Anger boiled in my belly as I glared at him.
“Jade, come on. It’s starting to rain. Could you let me in so we can discuss this?”
A couple of fat raindrops splattered on the window. Then the skies opened up into a typical New Orleans afternoon downpour. A twisted sense of satisfaction grew from my aggravation as I watched the water stream down his face. Fully intending to leave him there, I started to close the curtain.
Then the first booms of thunder rumbled.
“Oh, all right!” I couldn’t be responsible for him being struck by lightning, could I? “Wait right there.” I pointed to the wall closest to the window. “Do not drip on my computer.” After he toweled off, I shoved a folding chair at him. “You can sit here.”
He moved toward me.
“No. You’re only allowed to sit there, or else you can leave.”
Stepping back, he sat.
“What exactly are you doing here?”
“I was thinking you need a security latch on your door. Keep the underbelly out.”
“Are you the underbelly?” I turned in surprise at his comment.
He shrugged. “Strip club owner. I make my money off of naked women. Most people would consider me one of the underbelly. So yes, I guess so. Couple that with invading the private dreams of the women around me, and I think the jury would reach a unanimous conclusion.”
I raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Women?” My voice rose higher than usual as anger coiled tighter. “Are you invading other women’s dreams these days as well?”
“No, just yours lately.”
“Lately. Lucky me.” I snorted. “Who else has had this pleasure?”
“You know Pyper and I are old friends.” It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded. “She’s my closest friend. The thing is, the closer I am with someone the more likely it is I’d unconsciously slip into his or her dreams. I’ve learned over the years how to stop it, or to step out of the dream when it happens. I haven’t found myself in one of Pyper’s dreams in a few years.”
“A few years?” An unwelcome image of him and Pyper together, intimate, in a dream flashed through my mind. I frowned and pushed it away. He’d just said they were friends. It could have been a dream about flying to the moon for all I knew.
He nodded.
“Wait,” I said, as my brain started to function again. “You said you learned how to step out of dreams. Why exactly didn’t you step out of mine? Didn’t you think what you were doing to me was a huge invasion?”
He looked pained.
“Not only that, but you seduced me in my dreams, letting me think it was my own subconscious. God! You had me thinking I have feelings for you. I feel like an idiot for jumping into bed with you.”
“You do have feelings for me,” Kane said softly. I opened my mouth, a string of expletives poised on my lips, but his raw emotion stunned me into silence. Regret, shame and a trickle of loneliness punctured my defensive wall. “You do, and I have feelings for you.” His voice was low and rough. His vulnerability wrapped around my soul, and suddenly the spark fizzled from my anger. I still hated what he did, but I knew without a doubt it had been done with passion and something close to love. Even if it was wrong and twisted.
Overwhelmed, I stared into his eyes and for once didn’t feel like melting. “I thought I did, but…I need time to process.”
“I know.” Kane got up, moving toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Home. I thought I’d give you space.”
“Space later. Right now I have more questions about your ability.” He wasn’t getting out the door until I had answers.
Kane cleared his throat and reclaimed the chair. “Okay.”
I sat on my couch facing him. “Tell me how it works. You said you just find yourself in other people’s dreams, and you can step out of them. How?”
He took a moment, seeming to process my question, then leaned forward. “It’s easier if I realize a dreamwalk is going to happen. Then I can clear my mind and consciously will myself to ‘stay at home’ in my own head, if you know what I mean.”
I didn’t but nodded anyway, encouraging him to continue.
“It takes a lot more effort to step out of a dream. I have to realize I’m there and leave. It’s sort of like when you’re dreaming and you realize it’s a dream and wake yourself up. Of course, if I want to dreamwalk it’s pretty much the opposite. I envision myself in a person’s dream and will myself to go there.”