Weaver of Dreams

by Sparks, Brenda

  The sound of her shallow breaths mixed with the sigh of the ocean. The delicious scent of her and the sweet aroma of the flowers around them combined into a sensual perfume. He quickened the pistoning of his hips. Her legs moved higher onto his back and crossed around his ribs. His next thrust went straight to the heart of her core, so deep he could no longer tell where he ended and she began.

  His world narrowed to only her, blocking everything else around him out. He was lost in the feel of her slick skin, the taste of her kiss, until his climax pulsed in his groin.

  His fingers pushed between the slick flesh of their bodies and found her most sensitive nub. His thumb drew tiny circles on the bit of flesh, making her buck against him. Her eyes went wide, her face flushed a brighter shade of red.

  One more circle, applied with a bit of pressure, and she screamed his name as he continued to plunge into her blazing core. Her muscles gripped him like a velvet fist. Squeezed him like a vise.

  Zane could feel his own climax build. It burned up his spine like a fuse, ignited a bomb of white heat which spread through his body. He jerked violently, swelled within her depths. A ragged cry of joy left his lips as he exploded within her.

  His hips crushed against hers, when he pushed himself as far into her as possible. Zane never wanted this to end.

  He stayed inside her, waiting as he slowly came down from the rush, absorbing the feel of her velvety heat. Zane committed it to memory, taking in every detail from the contented look on her stunning face to the feel of her breasts pushing against his chest with each breath.

  He balanced his weight on arms, his hands framing her head. She looked up at him with trust shining in her pretty eyes. It tore at his heart, for unlike him, she didn’t know this would be their last time together.

  He couldn’t come visit her again, no matter how big the temptation. Each time he came near her, he wanted more. More time with her. More dreams with her. More of her. He’d started to want the real Maggie, not just the dream version, and that could never be.

  He needed to tell her this would be the last time he would come to her, end this now while he could still force himself back into his dimension, away from her.

  Zane dropped his head to rest on her forehead, and allowed the rest of the world to gradually sink in. The steady hum of the waves rolling against the shore mingled with the sound of the palm fronds rustling in the warm breeze. He took several deep breaths, taking the combination of aroused woman and the surrounding blooms into his lungs. His eyes locked with hers. She watched him, perfectly still underneath him as if she knew something was wrong.

  His breathing eventually returned to normal and he reluctantly withdrew from her body. The hammock swayed when he dismounted and Zane manipulated the dream, adding clothes on their bodies. He gave her an Indonesian floral print sarong dress which twisted lovingly around both breasts and tied behind her neck. For himself, he chose a white, long sleeved, Ceylon shirt and khaki pants.

  He reached out a steadying hand, which Maggie took. After helping her stand, he tucked her against his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Her arm settled around his lower back.

  She allowed him to lead them in silence. When they arrived at the shore, he released her and leaned against one of the palms.

  She looked up at him, and her hand reached up to touch his cheek. “What is it, Zane? You are so quiet.”

  He put his hands at her waist and drew her against him, settling her between his thighs. His fingers threaded through the silky wisps of her hair as he pulled her head against his shoulder. His stretched legs narrowed the difference between their heights. She shuddered when he pulled her more firmly against him.

  He took several fortifying breaths before he spoke his confession. “I have to go.”

  “So soon?” She pulled her head from his shoulder, looking in his eyes. “When will I see you again?”

  “You won’t.”

  She blew a raspberry. “Yeah, right. These dreams are too good. You’ll be making another appearance.”

  Zane pushed her head back down against his shoulder, finding it difficult to look in her eyes as he spoke. “You no longer need my protection, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He closed his eyes to the pain that tore at his heart. “I know.”

  He tightened his arms, and held her against him when she tried once more to raise her head.

  “What are you protecting me from?”

  Should he tell her? No, he decided, weighing his options. No humans knew of the existence of Dream Weavers and he could not make an exception—even for her. And though she might awake thinking all this was a dream, he would not plant a seed of truth about their special history. He just couldn’t take the chance she might think of his kind as real.

  “Maggie, I must go. You will not see me again.”

  “But, why?”

  “It is time.”

  She pushed her hands against his chest, and he allowed her retreat this time. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes when she looked at him. “I can’t let you go,” she cried.

  Her tears broke their dam, flowed down both cheeks. The essence of her sorrow surrounded him, threatening to overwhelm him.

  Like any emotion his corporeal body absorbed it. Its tainted residue started to fill him. Why any stalker found this pleasurable, he’d never know. Zane found it disgusting, slimy like a raw oyster oozing over his form. He needed to go before he absorbed anymore of her bilious sorrow.

  Spurred by the nauseating feeling creeping down his spine, he pushed away from the tree. He took Maggie’s face between his large hands, and gazed deeply into her eyes. “You can and you will let me go, Maggie. You are a strong woman. Your courage is inspirational.”

  “I am not courageous,” she denied.

  “You are the most courageous woman I know. It took courage to fight the monsters of your nightmares. It took courage to give that press conference. It took courage to trust me. You are amazing.”

  “Then why are you leaving?”

  “Because I must.”

  He didn’t know how to make her understand without telling her about his kind. His mind raced, but nothing came to him. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled her face to his and gave her one last kiss before pulling from the dream.

  As he faded from her mind he heard her soft voice cry, “Please come back . . .”

  Chapter 23

  Please come back.

  The last thing Maggie said played in his head like a broken record. For the past few days, those three words tormented him. They pulled at him, or maybe it was her, but whatever it was, a force impossibly hard to resist drew him to Maggie.

  But he’d resisted.

  “Zane, how did it go?”

  The sound of Jolan’s voice made him stop and hover over the tall grass so his friend could catch up. “How did what go?”

  Jolan stopped to float in front of Zane. “Your meeting with the Council, of course.”

  Oh that. “Fine.”

  “What did they say?”

  “The usual.” Zane turned and glided forward, needing to move. Jolan followed without invitation.

  “So they are pleased?”

  “Yes, Jolan. They seemed to be pleased I killed one of our own,” Zane could not keep the sardonic tone from his voice.

  “You don’t sound like you are very happy.”

  No doubt. Let it never be said his friend wasn’t observant. What should he be happy about? He’d taken a life. Constant thoughts about the woman he would never see again plagued him. It wasn’t exactly the best time of his long life.

  Jolan put on a small burst of speed, flowing in front of Zane, then stopped, forcing him to stop his glide in order not to run into his friend. “Talk to me. Tell me what
is wrong. Is your Peacemaker burden weighing upon you?”

  Maybe a little confession would help to lighten his soul. Humans had a saying about talking things out. Perhaps it might help, at least a little. “Jolan, I tell you true. I have never enjoyed my duty. Taking a life is not an easy thing.”

  “I understand.”

  “No, my friend, you do not, for you have never had to bear this particular burden.”

  “So tell me what it is like.”

  Zane began weaving back and forth as his agitation increased. Thinking about his feelings, especially describing them, felt uncomfortable. He had never been a sharer and he wasn’t sure he wanted to do so now. But really, how much worse could things get?

  “Jolan, when I end a Dream Weaver’s life, their energy washes over me. The longer they live the longer it takes for the energy to dissipate.”

  “Can you feel their emotions?”

  “No. I can’t feel their emotions or sense their memories, but there is something there. It is difficult to describe. Perhaps it is their spirit. All I know is something very tangible flows over me when I release their energy into the universe.”

  “Wow, Zane.” His tone sounded reverent. “I had no idea.”

  Zane stilled. “There is more to us than just our energy. I feel it every time I have to end a life. Something, some part of us goes on forever.”

  “Like the soul the humans speak of?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “So that is the reason for your melancholy? You are upset because you killed one of us?”

  That, and the woman. “Yes.”

  “But you know once our kind turns rogue and becomes a Dream Stalker there is no going back.”

  “The belief is the only thing that allows me to fulfill my duty.”

  Jolan followed once more as Zane pushed forward through the air. It was a nice day, as always. The sun shone down upon them, making the air warm, but not hot. A small breeze blew through the land. All was right with the world— just not right with him.

  “So what happened at the Council meeting?” his friend asked, clearly changing the subject. Zane appreciated the effort.

  “They thanked me for preforming my duty.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Gracyn recommended I spend some time communing with the Great Spirits to center my mind.”

  “Will you heed her advice? A Spirit Guide sounds exactly like what you need. Call it forth to guide you through this trial, help you understand the lesson this experience can teach you.”

  Zane didn’t need a Spirit Guide to tell him he needed Maggie. He’d thought of little else since leaving her a week ago. His body may be completely healed from his physical battle, but his heart was broken. He longed to be with her. His body craved her touch, his mouth her kiss.

  “I know what I need,” Zane confessed.

  “And what is that?”

  “The human.”

  “What human? What are you talking about?”

  “The human woman Amnon fed from. Spirits help me, but I can’t stop thinking about her. I’m obsessed with her.”

  “Why? What is so special about the human?”

  Where to start? Everything about Maggie seemed special.

  “Jolan, I tell you she is a most remarkable woman. She is the only human I have met who purposely manipulates her dreams.”

  “That is unusual, I grant you, but hardly a reason to be obsessed.”

  “She is beautiful. Her spirit is good and kind. When I’m with her, all time seems to stop. I feel at peace in her presence. She calms my soul in a way no other ever did. I want to remain with her”

  “For a few hours?”

  “Forever.”

  Jolan stopped at his admission and Zane too halted. They hovered in the air side by side for several long minutes before Jolan finally spoke to break the silence. “You know you can’t remain in the human world for long. Staying with her would be suicide.”

  “Do you not think I know that, Jolan? Why do you think I am here, suffering in our dimension instead of being with her in the human world?” Zane flowed forward in agitation. “I received the same teachings you have. I know our kind can only be in the human dimension for a few hours at a time.”

  “Have you fed recently? Perhaps you are just hungry, and your mind is not working well as a result.”

  Zane gave a snort of incredulity. “I wish it were so simple. I have visited others since my last time with Maggie.”

  “Is that her name? Maggie?”

  “It is a beautiful name, is it not?”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

  “As the humans say, you have it bad for the woman.”

  His friend couldn’t have been more correct. He did have it bad. Everything reminded him of Maggie. He saw an orange flower and thought of their time together in their island dream. When his gaze drifted up to the sky, he would see the reddish-yellow strands of her hair.

  “I think of her constantly.”

  “Then why not go to her?”

  “It would not help. It would only make me want her more.”

  “I disagree. I think you should go to her one last time. Get her out of your system.”

  “It will not help.” Would it?

  “Sure it will. Go to her, share a dream. Push her in the dream. Discover what she is really like. No one is all sweetness and goodness. Discover her negative side so you will be able to get over her.”

  “I don’t know,” Zane murmured thoughtfully.

  Perhaps Jolan had a point. Everyone had a negative side and he had not seen Maggie’s. Maybe if he did, he would finally be able to—as Jolan had so eloquently put it—get her out of his system. No one was perfect and maybe if he could find some imperfections in Maggie, then he could stop obsessing about her.

  “I’m telling you, Zane, it is worth a try. What is the worst that can happen? She turns out to be as perfect as you think she is and you end up wanting her more?”

  “I couldn’t want her any more than I do now.”

  “Exactly my point. No harm done if you see her one more time in her dream. And if you are lucky, you will get over her once you discover what she is really like. So, will you go to her?”

  “Yes.” Great Spirits help him, but yes, he would go one more time.

  Chapter 24

  Zane stepped through the portal wearing black jeans and a light pullover sweater. In homage to Maggie, he’d specifically made it a chartreuse color that matched her beautiful eyes. If tonight was their last together, then he wanted to overload his senses with her until he couldn’t take anymore. Maybe he could get too much of a good thing.

  She lay in her bed, the sheet formed around her slender frame. His body tightened, gut contracted at the sight. He wanted her, needed to touch her. Before he was aware he had even moved, he lay next to her on her bed.

  He gathered her into his arms, inhaling her delicate scent. It surrounded him, that sweet combination of her perfume and the shampoo she used. She turned in his arms, cuddling against him, causing him a moment of fear.

  Had he awakened her by pulling her into his arms?

  Zane went still, held his breath and listened to her breathe. Her inhalations were steady, deep. Under the pads of his fingers, her muscles relaxed. She melted against him as if even in her sleep her body recognized him.

  He let out the breath he held slowly. It blew through the stray wisps of her hair, making them quiver.

  What was he doing? He could have simply stood next to Maggie to share the dream. Why did he torment himself by holding her?

  He couldn’t help himself. He came tonight hoping he might discover something that wound break the spell she had ove
r him. If all went as planned, this would be the last time he came to her, the last time they shared a dream. And yet, here he lay, in her bed, holding onto her like he was a drowning man and she was his life preserver.

  He forced one hand from behind her back, and brought it over her forehead. The soft white light of his magick bathed her face, creating light shadows and illuminating the freckles that dusted her flawless skin. She looked so peaceful lying there, like an angel sent down from heaven to soothe his soul.

  Zane shook his head. Thoughts such as those were not going to help his mission. He mentally pulled himself up by the collar. He’d come here to learn something unpleasant about this woman, not fall deeper for her. He had a job to do, a duty if you will, and the time had come to do it.

  He could do this. Jolan was right, everyone had a negative side. He just needed to discover Maggie’s to finally get over her. He was obsessed with her because she intrigued him, nothing more.

  Sending his magick into her mind, he connected with her dream to find a forest. Tall trees surrounded her, adorned in fall colored foliage. Maple, oak, and walnut trees dressed in seasonal shades of orange, yellow, and red mingled with a few tall pines, adding to the lushness of the forest . . .

  The ground was covered by a beautiful patchwork quilt of autumn leaves. Perfumed with a combination of pine and musky fresh earth, a cool breeze blew through the branches of the trees, to send the leaves dancing in tiny circles.

  Zane heard birds chirping, their amiable song flowed through the trees, filling his ears with their beautiful melody. The sound of small animals scurrying through the forest could also be heard as he walked.

  Pushing through the tree line, he saw her. His heartbeat sped up at the sight. Maggie stood at the top of a waterfall, the height of which seemed one hundred feet, if an inch. She held her arms straight out from her sides, dressed in an azure blue bathing suit, that matched the color of his eyes. Zane could not help but wonder if she chose the color of her suit purposely—as he did his sweater.