Dream Warriors 1 - Gareth

by Cyndi Friberg

  Sheri pushed her plate aside and leaned across the table. “Have you ever been with a man?”

  “I’m not going to talk about this.”

  “How old are you?” She continued, despite Meagan’s insistence. “Twenty-three, twenty-four? Weren’t you eighteen when we met? The Carroll Foundation snatched you right out of MIT, but --”

  “Let it go, Sheri. I’m not going to talk about this.”

  “All right. I won’t push, but I don’t understand it.”

  Anger flared within her and her hard won control slipped. “What’s to understand? I have never had sex. Big deal! Does that make me less intelligent? Less compassionate? Less ambitious? Why is such importance placed on sexuality?”

  Sheri pressed her lips together firmly, keeping her grin at bay, but merriment danced in her expressive eyes.

  “I know. If I’d done it, I wouldn’t have to ask.”

  “Did you take a vow or something?” Sheri dove right back in.

  Raking her fingers through her shoulder-length hair, Meagan shook her head. “I’m not a nun, Sheri. I think having sex indiscriminately is dangerous, but I wouldn’t mind feeling my insides quiver at least once before I die.” She fiddled with the sleeve of her sweater. “Gareth said the incubus might have been attracted to me because --“

  “Who is Gareth?”

  Meagan closed her eyes. She hadn’t meant to mention Gareth. Convincing her friend that she’d been attacked by an incubus had been difficult enough. If she explained about the Dream Warriors, Sheri was sure to think she’d lost her mind.

  Maybe she had.

  If she was suffering from a mental illness, it would explain all of her bizarre experiences.

  “Did you talk to a counselor about your dreams?”

  In a manner of speaking. She couldn’t resist the hope in Sheri’s tone. Opening her eyes, she said, “Yes. Gareth specializes in the sort of attack I suffered.”

  “He’s a paranormal psychologist?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Is Gareth his first or last name? How did you make contact with him? Did you check out his credentials? There are a lot of crackpots out there, Meagan. You have to be careful.”

  “He came highly recommended and I think Gareth is his first name.”

  Sheri’s gaze remained suspicious. “What’s his last name? Who recommended him?”

  “His last name is about fifteen syllables long and no one can pronounce it, so he just has his patients call him Dr. Gareth.” Meagan nearly choked on the lie. Sheri’s tenacious protectiveness warmed her heart, but this was one situation better left alone. “Why the inquisition? He’s helping me. Isn’t that what’s important?”

  “How many times have you seen him?”

  “Just twice.” Meagan sighed. Obviously, Sheri intended to fully explore the subject.

  “And he agrees that this is some sort of spirit?”

  “Gareth is the one who told me what it’s called, but I’ve researched it on my own, Sheri. This isn’t a new phenomenon. The incubus and succubus have been reported --”

  “Wait. What’s a succubus?”

  “An incubus attacks women. A succubus attacks men. They both feed off the sexual energy of their victims. The attacks aren’t always -- brutal. Some reports indicate that the spirits seduce their victims and are welcomed when they return.”

  Glancing around as if to see if anyone was listening to their wild conversation, Sheri scooted closer to the table before she spoke again. “I know you believe all of this, Meagan, but I can’t help wondering if there isn’t more to it. Did the incubus bother you last night or were you safe at my house?”

  A certain warrior assured her safety; it had nothing to do with her new location. “It’s been six nights since the last attack. I keep praying it’s over.”

  “I’m trying to keep an open mind about this spiritual attack theory, but you have to promise me you won’t disregard the possibility that this is being caused by a flesh and blood man. It might be someone in your building. Maybe someone is following you home from work. Isn’t it more realistic to think that some sick-o is stalking you than… Have you considered reporting this to the police?”

  “I don’t think they can stakeout my dreams, Sheri.” She moved her half-empty plate to an adjacent table, her appetite completely gone. “The police can’t help me.”

  “And this Gareth can?”

  “He’s the only hope I have, right now. But I’m having a hard time trusting him.”

  Sheri patted her hand and offered an encouraging smile. “That’s certainly understandable.”

  They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. Sheri was plotting something; Meagan saw it in her eyes. But Meagan’s thoughts were already on Gareth and the night ahead.

  “Back to the beginning of this subject,” Sheri said quietly. “Gareth said your…lack of experience might have something to do with why you were targeted?”

  “He said a virgin’s sexual energy is highly concentrated, very attractive to this sort of spirit. My research confirmed what he said.”

  Sheri drummed her fingers against the tabletop. “Seems to me there’s only one way to dissuade the incubus permanently. We’ve got to find a man who’ll make your insides quiver.”

  She punctuated the decision with an outlandish smile and Meagan groaned.

  * * * * *

  Meagan tossed and turned in the unfamiliar bed. She couldn’t get comfortable. Every sound startled her. It was as if the elements had conspired to keep her awake. The wind howled through the trees. Rain pelted the window with noisy splatters and lightning illuminated the night at unpredictable intervals.

  This was ridiculous!

  For the first time since her ordeal began she wanted to fall asleep and the storm wouldn’t cooperate.

  We’ve got to find a man who’ll make your insides quiver.

  Sheri’s teasing words haunted her, mocked her. The only man who’d even come close was locked in her dreams and she couldn’t get to him.

  Frustration compounded her restlessness.

  She flipped on the bedside lamp and sat up.

  What she wouldn’t give for a tranquilizer right about now!

  A moaning emanated from her purse, which she had hooked over the footboard’s thick post. Who would be calling her at 1:40 am? She’d turned off the ringer, but apparently left it on vibrate. The call went to voicemail before she could free her cell phone from the side pocket of her purse, but she didn’t recognize the number on the “missed call” display. Must have been a wrong number.

  She was about to return the phone to its pocket when it vibrated again, creating the same low moaning. Curious now, she flipped open the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hello? Who is this? Wait, I’m sorry. I was trying to call my phone. Can’t find the damn thing. This is really embarrassing. Sorry I bothered you.”

  It took her a moment to place the nicely modulated male voice. “Justin? What are you doing up? It’s almost two o’clock in the morning.”

  “Who is this?”

  She laughed. “Meagan Addison. Your phone number must be one off from mine. All of the Carroll Foundation numbers are sequential.”

  “Might be why I can’t get my phone to ring. I’ve been calling yours.” He laughed and she felt an odd tingle in the pit of her stomach. “I’m really sorry to disturb you. But why are you awake?”

  “Good question.”

  “Are you afraid of the storm or is it just one of those nights?”

  Flipping off the lamp, she curled up on her side and stared out the window, holding the phone to her ear. “It’s been a strange night. Nice, but strange.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about it? Doesn’t sound like either of us have anything better to do.”

  He had such a nice voice and anything was better than listening to the storm, alone. “I want to ask you a question, but you have to promise not to get offended.”

  “That’s a pretty tall order. Can
I hear the question first?”

  “Sheri was impressed with your friend. What’s his name?”

  After a pause, he said, “Ryder. Why would I be offended by that?”

  “Is he your friend or your…partner?”

  He laughed and Meagan found herself grinning in the dark.

  “Do you honestly think…never mind. Obviously, you don’t know us well enough to understand how utterly ridiculous the assumption is. Ryder and I are not lovers and we are both passionately attracted to women.”

  “Well, thank you for letting me be nosy. It really is none of my business. But I will admit that I’m relieved.”

  “Why is that?”

  There was that tingle again. She licked her lips. “I better let you go. We both have work in a couple hours.”

  “We’ve got plenty of time. Unless you’re feeling sleepy.”

  She wasn’t particularly sleepy, just uncomfortable with the conversation’s turn. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Meagan?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m glad you answered the phone.”

  A tingle wasn’t quite a quiver, but it was a good place to start.

  Chapter Six

  The following day was one of the longest of Gareth’s existence. He was physically exhausted and emotionally torn. Controlling his borrowed body became easier, more natural with each passing hour, but he was not used to sexual frustration.

  As Justin, he smiled and flirted, but kept his banter light and playful. Meagan responded well to the hands-off approach, protecting herself behind her professional reserve.

  Well, Gareth wasn’t her coworker and Gareth’s approach would be anything but hands off.

  The instant Justin’s body fell asleep Gareth soared across the realm of dreams. He hadn’t realized how constrained he’d been by the corporeal world, how limited, until his essence burst through into his natural environment. Stretching and twisting, he projected himself toward Meagan, flying unfettered. Power surged through him, heady and dizzying. He could finally breathe!

  He manifested in the guestroom spinning as he landed deftly on his feet.

  Where was she? The bed was empty, as was the entire room.

  Sheridan Vellmos was propped up in bed across the hall, watching a late night talk show, but Meagan was nowhere in sight.

  Concerned now, Gareth rushed through the house. Had Meagan altered her plans and returned to her apartment? She’d told Justin she was staying with Sheri at least through the weekend. So, where was she?

  He didn’t hear running water, but the guest bathroom was the only room remaining. Easing his essence through the door, he looked inside. She reclined in a tub filled with water, mounded high with iridescent bubbles.

  Barely asleep, she offered him the slimmest of opportunities, but the slimmest of opportunities was all Gareth required. He slipped into her mind, drawing her deeper into his domain, constructing the illusion as he went.

  Her breathing deepened, her head leaned slightly to one side.

  The walls expanded, blending with the shadows until they floated in the purple vastness of space. The tub deepened and curved into the claw-foot design of a bygone age. He softened the light, surrounding them with candelabras. After reshaping his image to one adorned in a silk dressing gown, he knelt beside the tub.

  “Meagan.” He whispered her name with a subtle compulsion, drawing her awareness into the illusion. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous to sleep in the bathtub?”

  She shifted beneath the blanket of bubbles, the upper curve of her breasts coming into view. He smiled. Her lashes fluttered and she murmured something incomprehensible.

  “Will you let me to touch you, Meagan? I’ve thought of nothing else.”

  “Gareth.” She sighed.

  She raised her hands and cupped her breasts, pressing them firmly together. Gareth groaned. Was she aware of what she was doing? Or was she lost in some in between stage? Controlled illusion or conventional dream, one thing was certain -- she was thinking about him!

  He found her knee beneath the bubbles and slid his hand down along her inner thigh. Her legs parted, welcoming him. Damn! Why hadn’t he started this in a bed?

  His erection pounded painfully, demanding immediate attention. Short of crawling in the tub with her, there was no help for it. He would have to content himself with the hot silk of her smooth skin.

  Heat radiated from her center. He played across her tender flesh, relishing each moan and jerk of her slender hips. She continued to touch her breasts and he had to know that she understood what was happening.

  “Meagan, open your eyes. Look at me. See me.”

  She gasped as their gazes locked, but she didn’t speak. Staring deeply into her light brown eyes, he gently pushed his finger into her passage.

  “I want to touch you, taste you, take you. Go to bed!”

  He flicked his thumb across her sensitive nub, pushing her into orgasm and shattering the illusion. He groaned as tangible and intangible separated, taking her beyond his grasp.

  She shuddered, gasped and sat up in the bathtub, her hands still covering her breasts.

  “Oh my,” she whispered. “You’re…still here. Aren’t you?”

  She could no longer see him or hear his voice, but apparently she sensed him. It was an important victory.

  Lowering the lever, she released the drain and stood. Gareth watched as rivulets of water followed the sweet contours of her body. If they’d still been in the illusion he would have insisted on exploring her gleaming flesh with his tongue before she stepped from the tub. But he couldn’t touch her, could only watch as she toweled herself dry and donned a flannel nightgown. Such a shame.

  Her gaze darted around the room, while she brushed her teeth. Was she hoping to catch a glimpse of him? Wondering if he had departed for some other woman’s dreams? Would it bother her to think of him with someone else?

  He shook away the thought.

  Morpheus was right. He needed to be careful. Meagan was an assignment, nothing more. He couldn’t allow her to be more.

  She crawled into bed and curled up on her side, tucking her hands beneath her cheek. He waited for her subconscious to open, for her to fall asleep.

  Nothing happened.

  Gareth groaned.

  Not again.

  She had to fall asleep. He was hard as a rock and more than ready to show her where their love play led. She had to fall asleep!

  He heard the creature’s laughter, then smelled its vile stench. Pivoting on the ball of his foot, he dove, attempting to intercept the incubus in midair. The spirit passed through him and floated over Meagan.

  She wasn’t asleep. It couldn’t harm her.

  But the incubus remained there, hovering like a thundercloud above her peaceful body. Gareth insinuated himself between the incubus and Meagan. He tried to force it away, but here, in the waking realm, it was intangible, impossible to move.

  Meagan, stay awake! Don’t go to sleep! He sent his thoughts to her mind, but she didn’t respond.

  If he couldn’t wake her completely, he must infiltrate her dreams and control the illusion.

  In the dream realm Gareth could fight the incubus, he would welcome the fight, but he had hoped to spare Meagan any further exposure to the creature. Gareth scanned her mind, frantically searching for a path into her subconscious.

  She was still awake!

  Damn it. He had no access. She wasn’t asleep.

  The incubus laughed.

  A pulse of burning energy propelled Gareth off the bed.

  Meagan rolled onto her back, a moan escaping her lips. Beneath her lids, her eyes began the rapid movements that signaled dreams.

  This was not possible! One moment she was awake and the next she was dreaming?

  Gareth clawed at the incubus, but his hands passed through the entity’s shadow, useless, harmless. His infuriated scream made no sound. How had the incubus reached her? She hadn’t been asleep! He searched her mi
nd, scanning every avenue, every pathway.

  Blocked.

  Each way was barred against his entry. He couldn’t reach her. Couldn’t protect her.

  He was helpless!

  Propelling himself back into Justin’s body, he scrambled out of bed. “Morpheus! Morpheus take me to her! I’ll never make it in time if you don’t help me.”

  Gareth waited but nothing happened. He jerked on a pair of jeans and was reaching for his discarded undershirt when his borrowed body was pulled through the fabric of space. He screamed. Skin burning, muscles cramping, he felt as if his body was being torn apart. Then he slammed into a solid wood door.

  Grunting, he bounced back and landed hard on his rear end. Pain shot up his spine, the sensation jarring him out of his dazed stupor. Quickly making sure he was at the right house, he rang the doorbell and pounded on the door.

  “Ms. Vellmos! Open the door. It’s an emergency. Open the door!”

  Sheri inched the front door open, still protected by the metal and glass security door. Her face scrunched up with her confusion, she clutched the front of her bathrobe.

  “Let me in,” he insisted. “Meagan is in trouble. Open the door!”

  “Meagan? What are you talking about?”

  Gareth’s heart pounded painfully in his chest -- or was it always this painful when a human heart pounded? “I don’t have time to explain.”

  “I’m not opening this door until you --”

  Grabbing a perimeter brick from the garden edging the porch, Gareth smashed the top section of the security door. Sheri shrieked and jumped back as glass shards showered down around her. Without hesitation, he reached through the wrought-iron frame and rotated the bolt. Rushing beyond the debris, he took the stairs two at a time.

  “What the hell is going on?” She flew up the stairs a step behind him.

  Gareth burst into the guestroom. In his human body, he couldn’t see the incubus, but he sensed the entity. Evil permeated the room. He felt the subtle vibration and smelt the lingering stench.

  Meagan moaned, tossing her head, but otherwise unmoving.