Dream Weaver (Dream Weaver #1) (30 page)

             
My body convulsed as Nick kneeled in front of me. My lungs were raw, my throat torrid, my breathing uncontrollable. My vision focused inward into nothingness as I tried to slow my overwrought breath, to escape the gore that lay before me in my own home.

             
“Emari? Honey? It’s okay, sweetie.” He opened his arms to me, but I flinched at the sight of his blood-covered hands.

             
“No! No!” I lashed at him, savage with instinct. “Don’t touch me!”

             
Nick’s hands yielded to my revulsion. His shoulders slumped, and he backed away, resigned to the fact that his world had finally become unendurable.

             
My eyes then focused on my own hands, and mine were as drenched in crimson as his. I stared in horror and held them out to him with a quiet sob. He read the plea in my eyes.

             
“Emi. Honey. Hang on. Okay? I’ll fix it. Okay?” He rose and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard the water run for a few moments and Nick spoke in soft tones. He must have discovered Eddyson in the sink where I’d stashed him. I stared toward the kitchen to distract myself from my hands and the carnage that lay around me. The bloodied garrote, discarded haphazardly on the floor, had already sent me over the edge.

             
Nick returned with clean hands, a couple of dishtowels and a basin of warm, soapy water. He knelt cautiously in front of me and dabbed gently at my face, no doubt to remove the spatter I was not physically aware of yet. His touch was gentle, careful, the sweet caress of a lover. I stared, almost drunkenly, into his beautiful face as he silently wiped away the blood from my face, my arms, and my hands.

             
Pain slashed up my arm when he got to my cut hand and I jerked away. The sliced flesh enthralled me, drew me into a warm dreamy place deep inside myself. So many times I imagined just such a cut, only higher up on my wrist. A slit I’d never had the courage to self-inflict, and if I’d been serious, would run vertically, not horizontally. How often I’d gone to sleep with visions of gaping wrists to lull me. The warm welcome pain as the blood drained down my arm, pooled in my palm before it spilled rhythmically onto the floor with each beat of my heart. My lullaby…so soothing…now sleep will find me.
Hmm,
I pondered in my numb, shock-induced haze,
it doesn’t hurt so bad.

             
“Please. Don’t.” The ache in Nick’s voice sliced into my fog. I looked up at him bewildered. “Please. Don’t think that. I’ll do anything. Just, please, don’t.”

              The ocean filled my eyes and I pressed them closed to block the pain on his face. Pools of hot tears spilled onto my cheeks as I nodded my assent. “I’m sorry.”             

             
Sabre brought bandages from the bathroom and dropped them in Nick’s lap. He looked down at me with a reluctant smile and glint of apology in his eyes. He reached down and tousled my hair—a truly Sabre-ish kind of affection. Nick bandaged my hand while Sabre wandered the living room and righted the furniture.

             
“Thank you for saving me,” Nick whispered quietly.

             
My eyes met his and I scanned them for understanding. His hand disappeared into his jacket and withdrew his cell phone to show me the message on the screen. It was the one I sent to him right before Thomas exploded into my home. The screen glowed, “I love you, Nick. Please come back to me.”

             
“Your message drew me out of Thomas’s weave. I’d probably still be sitting under that tree if you hadn’t sent it.”

             
I coughed a short humorless laugh. “I thought maybe the knife in his back might have broken his concentration.”

             
Nick grimaced. “There was that.” He took the towels and water away to the kitchen and returned once more, cautiously opening his arms to me. I fell into them with abandon and sobbed, my body shook violently. My teeth chattered uncontrollably; I was freezing.

             
“She’s getting shocky,” Nick murmured to Sabre.

             
“Get her to bed. Keep her warm. She should be fine in a little while, but keep a close eye on her.” Then he grumbled something about ‘get rid of the body’ and ‘separate barrels.’

             
Nick scooped me up in his arms and carried me to my bedroom. I whined pitifully when he laid me gently in the bed, grieved by the separation of his warmth and his arms. He drew the covers over me, and tucked them around me like my parents used to do. I’d always felt secure, tucked in my bed each night.

             
“Be right back,” he whispered and kissed my cheek. The heat drained from the room in his absence. I curled into a ball, and hugged my knees, rocked and hummed like an unhinged child. He returned in a moment and placed the now-warm and alert body of Eddyson in my arms. “He should be okay. We can have a vet take a look at him to be sure, if you like.” He absently stroked Eddy’s head with his finger.

             
A feeble nod was all I could manage as I wrapped myself around the precious little body. Eddyson lapped happily at my face and neck and pressed himself against my chest for continued warmth as though his bones still ached with cold. Poor guy nearly froze to death. I gently rubbed and stroked his sore little muscles.

             
“Did Thomas hurt him?” I asked, and nuzzled the pup’s soft head.

             
“Not that I can pick up.” Nick’s mouth hinted at a smile, but his beautiful eyes billowed with dark clouds. “Near as I can see, he was quite gentle with him; petting him and scratching him behind the ears. He just nearly froze him to death, leaving him out in this cold.” Nick leaned over me and kissed my face. A tremor raged through his body and his breath caught in his throat. His warm hands massaged my body in the same affectionate way I petted Eddyson. “Get some rest. Stay under the covers. You should be fine in a few minutes. I won’t be gone long.” He kissed me one last time and silently left the room.

             
Eddyson dug a nest in the blankets at my side and after he walked a circle around it three times, he curled up against my chest for the night. I felt frozen and encapsulated, smaller than my own body. Time slipped away in immeasurable increments. I stared at the blank ceiling and wished for nothingness.

Chapter 25  Still She Cries

              Minutes or hours swept by until Nick returned to my side. He slid into the bed beside me and crept quietly into my head.

             
He took us to a warm summer day.
“
Hi,” he said and took my hand, led me to a park bench in the shade of a massive oak. He laced his fingers with mine and traced the veins on the back of my hand with his free hand. The sun glinted summer-yellow through the leaves and branches of the tree. Even in the shade, the warmth kissed my skin. The air smelled of dusty sunshine, wet sod and caramel corn. Organ music drifted through the air and I glanced around to take in my new surroundings. A sea of deep emerald green billowed and dipped around me; ribbons of grey pavement wound through it. In the distance, the white pyramid of the United States pavilion from Expo ‘74, now simply a landmark for Spokane’s favorite park rose like a skeletal snowy peak in the center of the park.

             
“Shall we walk?” he asked. I nodded. Nick pulled me gently to my feet and hand in hand we ambled through the sunlight. We reminisced about the former life of this park. In the 1970’s, preparations for the World’s Fair transformed this raunchy, dilapidated train yard into one of Spokane’s main downtown attractions. The rail yard’s restored clock tower pierced the summer sky like a sandstone pinnacle, which served as downtown timepiece and a backdrop for local stage events.

             
Across the emerald lawn, the glassy surface of the river glimmered with the reflection of the magnificent and historic Looff Carousel, one of the city’s greatest treasures. My fingers found a wealth of their own intertwined with the warmth of Nick’s. I leaned heavily on his shoulder as we continued to wander the rolling paths and crossed the ornate bridge that spanned the tranquil river by the old carousel. We surveyed the crowds that still lined up to take a ride and a chance at the golden ring. In quiet tones, barely audible over the piped merry-go-round music, Nick quizzed me about the creator of the hand-carved wood carousel, and its original home down by the river in the old Natatorium Park.

             
“Did you know they had monkeys and trained seals at Nat Park?” Nick asked nostalgically.

             
“Huh-uh. I knew there were rides and the carousel.” I allowed him to distract me, though the numbness of shock still paralyzed my vocal cords, making my voice soft and small.

             
“Nat Park was like the Disneyland or Knott’s Berry Farm of that era in this region. I used to visit there a lot. I can take you sometime, if you want.”

             
“Yeah, sometime.” I hugged his arm, rested my tired head on his shoulder. A tiny huff of laughter escaped my tired chest as I realized that Nat Park no longer existed in anything but a memory.

             
“I should let you sleep,” he suggested as we strolled down the bank of the river. I stared absently at the ducks, geese and swans adrift on the glassy mirrored surface but couldn’t respond to his suggestion of sleep.

             
Despite the glorious warmth of the day, the absolute peacefulness Nick conjured for me, my chest still ached. “I am tired, but I’m afraid of what I’ll see if I close my eyes without you here to distract me.”

              The park and all its attractions dissolved in front of me and Nick’s obsidian-blue eyes emerged from the darkness. I was back in my own safe, comfortable bed. Nick laid at my side. He gazed plaintively into my eyes, his pupils pulsed with each grieved contraction of his heart. He stroked my face with trembling fingers. Despite his trepidation, his touch still worked its magic.

             
“I’m so sorry, Emari. I’m sorry I brought such violence and—” he glanced around my room at my movie posters, “And such real monsters into your life.” He petted my hair, tucked a stray lock behind my ear.

             
“I’ll survive.” I tried to sound brave, braver than I felt.

             
“I wanted,” his voice bowed under the strain of his emotions, “To take away some of the nightmares of your life and all I’ve accomplished is to bring more. And the real, walking, breathing kind, at that.”

             
“Yeah—well…” Everything in and around me seemed to drift and enshroud me in a delusional haze. We lay in silence for several long moments. The sound of Nick’s heart breaking pierced the billowing fog. My own heart seized inside me, unable to bear him in so much pain. I had to save him. “Would you do something for me?” It wasn’t much of a life-line, but he grasped it as though it would surely save his life.

             
“Anything.”

             
“Remember when I found out about Rico?” I surprised myself with the boldness in speaking his name. Somehow, he didn’t seem quite so frightening anymore.

             
“Yes.”

             
“And you said you wanted to soften the blow? Make it a little easier for me to deal with?”

             
“Yes, of course.”

             
“I’m—not sure…I don’t know if I can handle all of this. I know what I’ll see when I close my eyes.” I shuddered at the mere thought. “And I’m not sure I’m strong enough…that I have the energy to make it go away. Can you…maybe like what you did for Ivy?” I knew the desire to erase everything rioted inside him; the desire to deliver me from the terrors his presence exposed me to. But, I was certain he wouldn’t touch my memories without my consent.

             
“Absolutely.” His joy at having some outlet to dispel my nightmares radiated from him, softened his rigid muscles, and slowed his sprinting pulse. He held me in his arms for a few more long moments. The familiar silky brush of his thoughts caressed mine, and swathed my mind in tranquility. My long-tired and tense muscles submersed in a thermae of comfort and rest. Rolling waves steeped my body, drew out the poisons and baptized my soul in peace. Slow and lethargic, I blinked, then gazed into his eyes, studied their exact shade of twilight blue.

             
He gently massaged the sore muscles in my arms, down my back. Strong fingers caressed the back of my neck, my aching shoulders. Tenderly, as if I might break, he traced the lines of my face, the sharp angle of my jaw, the ridge of my collarbone, the soft skin of my throat and breastbone. His fingertips seemed to memorize every line, every angle, every softness and hardness, every breath and beat of my heart. He committed my every nuance to his memory.

             
“Emi?” he whispered, like the hint of a breeze.

             
“Mmm hmm?”

             
“I love you.” He already sounded so far away. A fog of drowsiness drifted over my body and mind, a warm summer mist. The hot, fast craziness of the day, flashes of reds and yellows, transformed to soft blues and greens of cool, quiet solitude. The aching in my chest dulled and disappeared, my heart finally slowed to a resting rhythm.

             
Wait!
I had to tell him, had to make sure he knew. I couldn’t remember if I told him and he
must
know. I fought the heaviness, the comfort, the peace that so easily towed me under its currents. But, he had to know, I had to tell him, even at the risk of the barrage of blood and brutality. I thrust my eyes open. “Nick?” What was meant to be emphatic came out pathetic.

             
“Yes?”

             
“I love you, too.” I managed to force the words from my lips before the undertow of sleep sucked me in. The leaden heat devoured me, pressed in from all sides. It gripped every conscious cell in my body, and shoved it under, plunged me into serene solace.

*              *              *

              Angry muffled voices drifted into my sleep, drew me into a sluggish consciousness.

             
“Better for whom, Nick? Her or you?”

             
“This isn’t about me. It’s about her. It’s always been about her.”

             
“What about her abilities?”

             
“She doesn’t have to remember anything. She’ll be safer that way.”

             
“And you think it was only your presence that drew him here in the first place? That there isn’t another one out there that might catch a whiff of her?”

             
“It’s worth the chance.”

             
“Yeah? And what if she drifts again?”

             
The term seemed familiar in a far off, distant sort of way.

             
“Then she drifts and we’ll deal with it then.”

             
“We? A bit presumptuous, aren’t you, Nick?” The silence throbbed with electric ire. “Well, I disagree, whole-heartedly and one hundred percent.”

             
“Well, fortunately, it's not up to you this time.”

             
Soft footsteps approached my bedroom door.

             
“Not
this
time.” I heard the words thrown at Nick’s retreating back, and he groaned at the piercing barbs.

              Yellow light sliced my bedroom then extinguished into darkness. A heavy sigh pushed regret in waves across my skin. The side of my bed dipped and a warm hand caressed my face, brushed back my hair. A soft hum of delight at the gentle touch rose in my throat that cut off with a gasp as a filmstrip of blurred images buzzed in reverse in my mind. Resistant, I squirmed against the confusion of my dream. An angel kissed my sealed eyelids and hot tears spilled from his face to mine. The droplets spattered like boiling water onto my cheeks, seared and cooled as they drained down my face and neck, and pooled in an icy puddle in the hollow of my throat.

             
“No…” I moaned in my sleep.
No. Angels mustn’t cry.

             
A small quiet sob sent a jolt through me and a dark caress seized my mind, gripped and forced remembrances out and away. Like life-giving compressions, psychical thrusts commuted the tension that twisted inside me. I sank deeper and deeper with each release, forced into myself. My soul was shoved farther, safer, until finally I was set adrift like a child in the womb, supported, sustained and safe.

             
Cool, trembling lips gingerly touched mine. “Goodbye, my love,” the angel murmured.

             
I hummed a quiet moan in return. Another hot tear splashed onto my cheek and slowly slid down my jaw. A final thrust and all was blackness, warm and safe. No tears. No pain. Just sleep.