Weaver of Dreams

by Sparks, Brenda

  Only the fact that she chose that second to speak, kept Zane from coming through the portal. “You can do this.”

  Her voice sounded like satin and slid over his energy in a gentle caress. She leaned forward, using her straight arms to brace her weight on the counter. Her eyes searched the mirror, landing on him, pinning him with her beautiful stare. No, he reminded himself. Not him. She couldn’t be looking at him. She must be scrutinizing her reflection, but it seemed like she spoke directly to him.

  “Maybe I should call in sick.” A sardonic chuckle burst from her lips. “Yeah, right. He would know I lied. Probably fire me.”

  She pulled the skin under one beautiful eye. “Just look at those bags. Mark will know I haven’t been sleeping.”

  Who was this Mark? A co-worker, a boss . . . a lover. Not knowing disturbed Zane more than he wanted to admit.

  A tired sigh blew through her lips. “I can do this. I have to do this.”

  An unexplainable need to comfort her filled him. He wanted to push through the portal, take his human form, and envelop her in his muscular arms, cradle her head against his shoulder, whisper words of encouragement, before he dealt with this Mark fellow.

  She gave a wide yawn, and made her way out of the room. With her out of sight, Zane came back to his senses. Never had he experienced a draw like the one coming from the woman. Her essence pulled at him, enticed him to go to her. That was no doubt how the stalker had discovered her.

  If her pull felt this strong while awake, he could only imagine what it would be like when she slept. Great Spirits help him, for the first time he began to understand how a Weaver might become addicted to a human. He had to go address the Council, inform them what he’d found. They would not be pleased. Zane reluctantly pulled back fully into his dimension, closing the portal behind him.

  Chapter 2

  The human woman’s dreams were vivid and provided a delicious source of energy. The Dream Stalker barely needed to influence them at all, thanks to her natural tendency toward nightmares. He’d only needed to steer them a little, add a few malevolent details here and there. Her mind did the rest.

  It had been so easy. A set of blood-red eyes added by him, and she’d created the six wolves that chased her. A well placed root from him while her head was turned, and she tripped to find herself surrounded by wolves. With little interference from him, the human’s nightmare generated such fear that it became a tangible force in her bedroom, surrounding his corporeal form with its feeding energy.

  The emotions her dreams elicited were strong, raw . . . addictive.

  If he had lips in this dimension, he would be licking them. He still rode the high her fear created as he fed on it.

  Nothing compared to the sensation he got when he consumed negative human emotions. They made it worth taking the human form required to enter the mortal dimension to feed. The negative emotions caused his blood to surge, his heart to sprint. Endorphins flooded his brain, giving him a potent high that could not be matched by anything in this dimension.

  With no physical body, there were no endorphins or physical rush, just the lingering impression of utopia in his mind. He floated in the air, bobbing at a frantic pace thanks to the rush of his feed. He felt excited, elated. Like he could take on the universe. Nothing in the world, his or the human’s, compared to this, and he loved it!

  Like a blanket, the balmy air flowed around his energy, welcomed him with its warmth. His world seemed extra vibrant, a resplendent cornucopia of color and constant light.

  He pushed through the air, not caring in which direction he went. Feeling alive, excited, he just needed to move. Now!

  The meadow where the Ruling Council gathered lay ahead. Zane saw the balls of light that were the Dream Weavers who made up the Council. Their energies hovered in the clearing, forming a large circle.

  He arrived quickly, and floated into the middle of the circle the entities formed.

  “Salutations and blessings,” he greeted, demonstrating his respect for the council members that was their due.

  “And the same to you Peacemaker,” the High Chancellor responded. “Gracyn has informed us that you have news, but neglected to share just what it was. I assume it is important to have summoned us all.”

  “I discovered a Dream Weaver who has defied our First Law,” Zane informed them.

  “Are you sure?” a man asked from behind him. “It has been so long since any have dared to defy us.”

  “Unfortunately, I am all too sure. I sensed the disturbance in our world.” Zane turned toward the male speaking. “However, I have yet to discern the individual responsible.”

  “But you will, Peacemaker. Your skills are unsurpassed,” his mentor informed him.

  Zane knew Gracyn believed in him. After all she’d trained him herself.

  “We have every confidence that you can find the Dream Stalker,” she continued, “exorcise him from the world while he is in human form.”

  “When he is vulnerable,” Zane murmured.

  “You must find the offender, Peacemaker,” the booming voice of the High Chancellor demanded.

  “I intend to do just that.”

  “Our society cannot tolerate any violation of our laws.”

  “I agree our laws must be upheld, High Chancellor,” Zane concurred, turning toward the male to make his vow with an authoritative voice. “I pledge to the Council my loyalty, my fidelity to my purpose. I will seek out and destroy the rogue.”

  “Thank you, Zane,” Gracyn’s soft voice said from beside him. “I know you will do your duty to the Council.”

  “Do you have any further news?” One of the members asked.

  “Not at this time.”

  “Then you are dismissed. Go in good stead,” the High Chancellor released him.

  Zane did not hesitate to leave the circle when two of the beings parted to give him space. He floated through the air, his mind racing. It had been a long time since his services were needed by the Ruling Council.

  Most of their kind was quite content to feed off the positive emotions produced by humans when they dreamed. Love and happiness sustained the Dream Weavers, keeping their energy charged so they could move freely about their dimension in their energy forms. Of course, it required they visit the human dimension more often to recharge, but it was worth the slight inconvenience.

  “Halt, Zane.”

  Lost in his thoughts, Zane almost glided into his friend. Only the sound of Jolan’s voice brought him to his senses.

  “What did the Council want of you?”

  Should he inform his friend of what transpired during the council meeting? The Council had not forbid him from discussing the matter. After all, Jolan might be able to help him. Although not a Peacemaker, his hunting skills were excellent.

  “You will have much difficulty believing this, my old friend, but I have discovered that one of our kind is feeding on negative emotions.”

  “I can’t believe one of us is a Dream Stalker.” Jolan’s voice was low with the whispered accusation. “You truly believe one of our fellow Dream Weavers turned into a stalker?”

  “I’m afraid so, Jolan.” Zane glided around his friend’s energy and moved forward, knowing Jolan would follow as he continued to speak. “And it is up to me to take care of the problem.”

  “How? Our energy cannot be extinguished.”

  Zane wasn’t surprised Jolan asked the question. It was so rare for any Weaver to turn rogue that most of their society did not speak of how Peacemakers policed them.

  “We are not just energy in the mortal world. I will destroy him when he takes human form to feed, when he is susceptible to injury just as any other human in that dimension.”

  “Do you not wish to try to reform him? Break his addiction?”

  “
The High Council will allow no tolerance for his addiction, no second chance.” Zane slowed his glide, allowing his companion to come up beside him before he continued. “There is no reforming those who become addicted to negative emotions. They are lost to us from the first time they feed on the fear.”

  After several long moments, Jolan broke the contemplative silence by asking, “Do you know who the Dream Stalker is?”

  “Not yet. But I will ferret him out.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “I have a way.”

  Chapter 3

  Maggie pushed through the door to the school board office, her steady strides taking her to the office at the end of the hall. She stopped for a moment, and took a deep breath to gather her wits, as she stared at the placard on the door. MARK CARVER, SPECIAL EDUCATION DIRECTOR, she read to herself as she knocked on the closed door, and waited to be bid entry.

  “Come in,” a male voice said from behind the door.

  A twist of her wrist opened the door and Maggie squared her shoulders when she pushed through.

  “Hello,” Mark said from behind the oak desk. “Sit down, please.”

  She glanced at his familiar face. She couldn’t help but find him handsome with his strong jaw and hazel eyes. His long lashes brushed against his glasses, before he reached a manly hand up to take them off, placing them on his desk, their gazes met.

  Maggie’s knees went weak. She carefully hid her surprise, wondering how this man still had this effect on her. They’d broken up over a year ago for Pete’s sake. She was over him.

  Really, she was.

  But there were times, like today, when her lack of sleep and foggy mind got in the way of her better judgment and she almost wished they were still a couple. He had been a perfect gentleman with her most of the time, at least in the beginning.

  And that had been part of the trouble.

  Mark had been too gentlemanly. He’d treated her with old world manners, which at first had been sweet and endearing. Eventually, however, she wanted their relationship to go to the next level, become more intimate, and that was when the trouble started.

  Unfortunately for Maggie, their professional relationship had continued. Just after their breakup, Mark had been promoted into a position that made him her boss, which explained how she came to find herself in his office today.

  Nope, this wasn’t awkward at all. Yeah, right!

  Maggie did as commanded, sitting in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk.

  “Have you met Jennifer Lawler?” Her ex gestured to the woman who sat next to her in the other chair.

  Maggie extended her hand. “No, I haven’t had the pleasure. Nice to meet you, Ms. Lawler.”

  “Jennifer, this is Margret O’Connell, Maggie for short,” Mark completed the introductions.

  She shook Jennifer’s hand with a firm shake, a little longer than traditionally the norm, giving Maggie time to get a good look at her. She supposed the woman would be considered attractive, even with her brown hair pulled back into a tight bun. Her chocolate colored eyes shone with intelligence and cunning that would scare a jackal. Though a petite woman, the look on her face held a combination of tenacity and determination that made her seem larger than life.

  The woman had the reputation as a hotshot lawyer, brought in from another state by the school district to litigate cases like the one she found herself currently embroiled in. A lawyer named Lawler—perfect.

  “I hope you haven’t waited long,” Maggie offered in apology for being five minutes late.

  “A while,” the lawyer replied curtly, giving her a sly look from the corner of her eye.

  “We should get started,” Mark stated. He leaned back in his padded chair and flashed a big smile at the lawyer, showing several of his perfect, white teeth. “What’s your plan of action, Ms. Lawler?”

  “First, I want to see the student’s file.”

  Maggie dug a thin, orange folder from her briefcase and handed it to the woman. “Here it is.”

  “This is it?”

  Maggie nodded her head. “Uh-huh. Greg doesn’t have a very large file because there wasn’t much that we needed to do.”

  The lawyer opened the file, and took her time to peruse the paperwork within as she flipped through the pages. After several long minutes, her eyes rose to pin the man across from her with a pointed stare. “You have a case. The burden of proof will be on the parents, because they are the ones who filed for Due Process.”

  “So what’s the next step?” Mark asked.

  The pretty lawyer, straightened under his gaze. “I should meet with all the district personnel involved with Greg Burton. Speak with them, you know, to find out their side of the story.”

  “I can tell you their side,” Maggie offered. “Greg is clearly not demonstrating a need for special education. He is doing well in his classes. His grades are all A’s and B’s. His teachers say he is very quiet, but well behaved.”

  Mark leaned forward and rested his forearms on his desk, sending the scent of his delicious cologne wafting over Maggie when he spoke. “The Burtons want him eligible for a special education program, because he will then be eligible for a state scholarship which they can use to send him to a private school in another district.”

  “They actually said that?” Ms. Lawler asked.

  “Yes, during one of the many meetings we had with the family this school year.” Maggie informed her.

  “Other states have tried vouchers and each time they were struck down by the court sighting separation of church and state. Government monies aren’t supposed to be given to schools run by churches. How can your state provide government funds to send a child to a private school?”

  Mark sighed deeply. “Our state established the scholarship under the guise of special education. No one wants to file a suit against the state that would result in taking funds from special education students.”

  Ms. Lawler nodded and turned in Maggie’s direction, making her shift uncomfortably under the attorney’s hard stare. The intense look in the woman’s eyes unnerved her. No wonder her reputation for winning cases was renowned. The witnesses probably took one look into those penetrating eyes and broke under the pressure. “You are the school’s guidance counselor, correct?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “And you have counseled this student?”

  “Only because the parents claimed he had an emotional-behavioral disability. According to their account, about a month ago he became moody and aggressive at home.”

  “Did you find him to be emotionally disturbed?”

  “No. I found him to be a well-adjusted child. He seemed open and honest during our sessions.”

  “Any history of behavior issues at school?”

  “No.”

  “Any history of poor grades or trouble with the other students?”

  “No. He is a perfect student. Near the top of his class.” Maggie felt perspiration dot her forehead. She didn’t appreciate the lawyer grilling her. This seemed a little too much like being on trial.

  Ms. Lawler glanced back down at the file in her lap, giving Maggie an appreciated reprieve from the intense eye contact. “I’ll need a copy of everything in here,” she informed Mark as she looked up at him.

  “I’ll have my secretary make the copies. I can bring them to you when we meet later today to go over the court documents for the case.”

  When Ms. Lawler handed the file to Maggie’s ex, she did not miss the way his fingers brushed against the lawyer’s as they transferred the file. She glanced at the woman’s face, and noted the slight smile that lifted one corner of her mouth.

  “You don’t need her anymore today, do you Jennifer?”

  The name rolled off his tongue like a physical caress. If these
two weren’t already a couple, they would be soon. You’d think he would have learned his lesson about getting involved with someone he needed to work with.

  Maggie most certainly had.

  “We’ll let you know when we need you again, Maggie,” Mark informed her, using a condescending tone that sounded clipped.

  Maggie knew a dismissal when she heard one. She stood to take her leave, grateful to be able to put some space between her and that aggravating man.

  Chapter 4

  Tiny needles punctured the stalker’s body, causing sharp stings of burning pain. The fiery sensation beat at his mind, pulsed with a relentless agony that was pure unadulterated torture.

  He knew logically that nothing actually hurt him. In energy form, he was just a ball of glowing luminosity. No body. No flesh to be stung. But that didn’t ease the sensations plaguing him.

  He pulsed up and down, needing to move. Anxiety crept into his mind, making him glide forward trying to outrun the prickly sensation. Faster, faster he went in an attempt to escape the uneasy feeling pursuing him.

  It was for naught. Only one thing would ease this discomfort. Only one person.

  He needed to feed his craving. He needed . . . What did the humans call it?

  A fix.

  A perfect term, really. Those humans certainly turned a phrase. A fix was exactly what it was. Feedings fixed these sensations. Took them away. Replaced them with blissful peace and contentment.

  Without a doubt, he needed a fix and knew exactly who could provide one.

  He opened a portal with his mind, causing the vortex to swirl in front of him. He peered into the gateway, making sure that in his haste he’d opened to the correct place in the human world.

  There she lay in her bed. Relief poured over him in waves, enough to drown a small measure of the pain. Her face turned in his direction, and he watched her eyes dart back and forth under her closed lids.