Dreamer (24 page)

Read Dreamer Online

Authors: Ann Mayburn

BOOK: Dreamer
8.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

With a careful touch, he parted her bottom and cleaned her
sore flesh. She winced as the warm cloth scraped over her anus, and he made a
hushing noise. Placing gentle kisses across the mounds of her buttocks, he
massaged her thighs and hips as well. It felt as though every bone had melted
into bliss and she was sinking through her mattress.

Gathering her into his arms, he pulled her against his chest
and held her tight. There was no mistaking the emotion coming off him. Bright
and clean, his love embraced her as clearly as if he’d said the words. If she
had been in bliss before, now she was in heaven. No words were spoken or
necessary. Soothed by his presence, she quickly fell asleep.

Small flashes of the day moved through her mind, and a small
spark of despair tainted her happiness. Daisy, what was happening to Daisy?

She did what she had always done in times of great need.
Something her parents had taught her since she was old enough to remember, a
prayer that held the faith of a lifetime spent as the daughter of High Priests.
Thank you for the blessings of this day.
I would humbly ask that you please help me find a way to help Daisy. I am your
servant if you chose to use me.

A massive wave of warmth drew her down, and she felt Devon
tense beneath her and say, “Time of Choice”, before the darkness claimed her.

Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

Sinking rapidly through the layers of her subconscious, Shan
shivered as streamers of golden lightning filled the darkness around her. The
glittering streamers of lightning began to converge into a white-hot glow, and
she tried to shield her eyes against the glare.

The burning radiance faded until she saw only darkness
behind her eyelids. She became conscious of a hard floor beneath her butt as
she sat, and the scent that she always associated with clean linens. Other
scents merged with it—the musk of sex, the herbal bouquet of tea, and a faint
hint of sugar. Lowering her hands from her eyes, she blinked to clear her vision
and examined the luxurious bedroom she found herself in. Dark wooden walls,
adorned with shimmering tapestries covered in some type of Asian calligraphy,
glimmered in the golden light of sunset streaming in from the high windows. As
she watched, the characters of the calligraphy shifted into a new word, and a
few moments later rearranged themselves again.

Tearing her eyes away from the changing letters, her gaze
focused on an odd structure at the other side of the room. A large wooden
square, similar to a small elaborate oriental house, dominated the other side
of the room. The walls of the box were decorated with intricate patterns, and
the front was covered by a sheer sparkling cloth. A slight movement within sent
a shiver through the fabric like a soft wind.

She felt no sense of danger. If anything, she felt as safe
as if she were in her bedroom back home. Curiosity quickly overcame fear, and
the stiffness went out of her spine, allowing her shoulders to relax. Power, so
much power was contained in this space, and it all emanated from that structure
across the room.

As she pushed herself to her feet, she frowned down at the
outfit she wore—a traditional Chinese robe in scarlet silk, embroidered with
clouds done in golden thread. The stiff material was held in place by an ornate
braided red belt with an lovely carved jade buckle. Fighting with the long,
hanging sleeves, she reached up to touch her hair. It was slicked back in a bun
and held in place with some type of intricate hair jewelry.

Taking a hesitant step forward, she cleared her throat.
“Hello?”

No answer, just another soft breath of air that caused the
fabric to sparkle and dance like a million stars.

Moving closer, she stumbled on the long skirt and then
frowned. Another step and another stumble, this time to her knees. A gentle
weight pressed against her back, and she took the hint and remained kneeling.
Thousands of times in her lifetime she had knelt before various altars,
offering prayers and thanks to a god or goddess. Each time, while deep in her
devotions, she had felt the brush of the divine. But this wasn't a brush. This
was an avalanche of stunning and feminine power.

She was in the presence of a goddess.

Quickly humbling herself, she pressed her forehead to the
ground. “Forgive me.”

Soft laughter rolled through the room from behind the
curtain of the little house, and a voice filled with the soft sighs of sex and
sleep rolled over her.
“Welcome, Shan.”

She shifted back on her heels as her mind tried to process
what was going on. Who was this goddess? Obviously Asian of some sort. Her
heartbeat skipped then doubled in pace as she realized that this goddess was a
representation of her lost heritage. A direct link to the parents she had never
known.

“My
name is Chuang Mu. I am the goddess of all things related to the bedroom.
Dreams, sexual pleasures, and birth. I have been waiting for you for a long
time.”

Chuang, that was a Chinese name. She was Chinese! Memories
of staring at different Asian faces in books as a child, comparing them to her
own features in the mirror, came rushing back. She’d spent so many hours spent
staring at her face, trying to find the perfect match for her features that
would unlock the mystery of her birth. Though her father and dad were
everything that anyone could ever want as parents, the inability of being able
to connect with a heritage and history had always left a hollow, lost spot in
her heart. As she’d dealt with that, there had also been the nagging question
of why they had abandoned her, why she hadn't been good enough to keep.

“Yes,
Shan, you are Chinese. You come from a long line of honorable men and women who
have served Creation for as long as there have been gods and goddess.”

“My parents?” she whispered, scarcely daring to believe that
the answer to her life's greatest mystery was right before her.

A soft sigh, this time tinged with a regret that made her
want to cry.
“Yes, I know who your
parents are. We do not have much time. I promise I will tell you who your
parents are, but first we must discuss why you are here.”

“Of course,” Shan murmured and tried to bite back her
disappointment.

“Rise.”

Obediently, Shan stood and fought against the unfamiliar
robes again. So much fabric, she felt as though she was swaddled in them. A
bird trilled from somewhere outside, and she glanced at the small slit of
sunset shining through the high windows.

“I
have need of you, Shan. A great evil is about to be set loose through the
children on your world, and you are the only one who can stop it.”

Her words came out in an undignified squeak. “Me? Are you
sure you don't have me confused with someone else?” Someone like Devon with his
strength and power. The memory of his arms around her sent a rush of heat
through her body.

“No.”
The
one word was flat, and Shan flushed.
“While
I'm glad he has been such a pleasure to you, he does not have the skills that
are needed. If I wanted someone to storm in with fists and might to vanquish my
enemy, the Chosen of Mentu would be who I sought. I need someone with different
abilities.”

Playing with the inside seam of the sleeves of her gown,
Shan tried to think of any abilities she had that would rival Devon's. Quickly
dismissing jewelry making as an offensive weapon, she drew a blank. “No offense
meant, but what can I possibly do that Devon cannot?”

“Your
faith in your guardian is delightful.
” Shan had the strangest feeling
that the goddess was teasing her despite her level tone.
“But you have been training for a long, long time for this
responsibility.”

The curtain started to pull back, and Shan immediately
lowered her eyes. Two bare and dainty feet slid off a black silk brocade
mattress, followed by a spill of robes that looked like the night sky. Fighting
to stay upright as shock weakened her, she watched those small, perfect feet
cross the floor until Chuang Mu stood mere inches away. This close, her power
crashed against Shan with the strength of tsunami, and she swayed. “I don't
understand.”

“Your
nightmares, Shan.”

At her words, the floodgates of her memory opened, and Shan
whimpered. So many horrible dreams, so many times being held down by her
parents as she thrashed and screamed her way awake. One evening she had
overheard her parents discussing sending her to a hospital to try and help her
deal with the nightmares. It was that night, at the age of nine, that she had
stopped crying for her parents’ comfort after a bad dream and kept the fear and
agony to herself. “Did you send them to me?” The accusation and anger in her
voice was answered by a rumble of thunder in the distance.

“No.”
Chuang Mu's power pressed against her, and Shan folded beneath it to her knees.
“That is a gift from your father's
lineage. I protected you against them as much as I could without alerting the
agents of Destruction to your presence.”

Her father's lineage? Protected her from her nightmares?
What was she talking about? Keeping her gaze fastened on the hem of Chuang Mu's
robe, Shan managed to grit out one word past the goddess's power.
“Why?”

“Ah,
child. It is so hard being mortal, so filled with questions. You are a dream
warrior. Born with the rare ability to enter the dreams of others and fight
against the agents of Destruction who use the dream world to wreak havoc. A
rare talent, made even more special by your lineage. You are the last dreamer
left in Washington D.C. who can save those children.”

Daisy, she could save Daisy. Before her fear could convince
her otherwise, she straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. “What do
I need to do?”

A rush of approval tinged with a slight trace of relief moved
through the goddess's energy, and Shan basked in its warmth.
“Accept the blessing of being my Chosen.”

“Done.”

Chuang Mu's laughter stirred her own giggles to life.
“So quick to give your loyalty and
compassion to those you hold dear. I can see why Mentu's Chosen is so in love
with you.”

Devon really loved her? Her gaze started to dart up to
Chuang Mu's face, but got no further than her hands. The skin there began to
glow like a pearl with the sun trapped beneath its surface. Shan watched,
entranced, as that glow expanded, warming her skin and filling her with a sense
of endless peace.

“Turn
around and lower your robe.”

Fumbling with the elaborate knot, Shan gave up and jerked
the robe down from her shoulders. The skin of her bare back tingled beneath the
power coming off the goddess. Caught up in memories of the way Devon looked at
her, the care he took when he touched her and the way he focused on her as if
she were the center of the world, she startled when Chuang Mu said in a sharp
voice,
“Shan.”

Hunching her shoulders, she began to apologize, and Chuang
cut her off.
“You and Devon have honored
me with your sexual excess in the bedroom, but I would prefer if you focus on
the present.”

Blushing furiously, Shan nodded and looked to the left to
stare at the wall. More tapestries hung there with the shifting Chinese
writing. Following the sinuous flow of characters, Shan flinched slightly as a
small and yet powerful hand pressed against her back, running along her skin.

“I
mark you, Shan Julia Harrison, as my Chosen hand on Earth. The living extension
of my will and desires.”
A burn began to warm Shan’s skin as
though she stood too close to a bonfire.
“I
give you my essence and demand in return that you serve Creation until the end
of your days on Earth.”

Heat upon heat seared into her back, and she cried out in
pain. The air turned solid around her and held her in place while Chuang Mu
continued to trace patterns over her skin. Abruptly, the bonds disappeared, and
Shan staggered beneath the weight on her soul. Power sank into her, energizing
her being from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She, at once,
wanted to laugh and scream as the glory of her goddess filled her. Her bones
ached, her blood sang in her veins, and she felt like she could move mountains
and drain seas as the power filled her.

“Welcome
home, my daughter.”

The robe was gently pulled back up her shoulders, and small
hands turned her to face the goddess. Looking up slowly, still shaking from the
exchange of energy, she examined the perfect jaw and sensual lips of Chuang Mu
before daring to look into her eyes. Shan gasped as she met the goddess's gaze.
Ancient power tempered with a love that at once broke her heart and reshaped it
into a stronger version of itself, leaving her feeling invincible.

“I
wish I could spend the rest of the evening with you answering all of your
questions, but time grows short for the children and the favorite of
Aphrodite.”

“Daisy?” Swallowing hard, Shan dropped her gaze again to the
goddess's hands. Though she was now able to look into her face, it was
overwhelming and made it hard to think. Muscles jerked, but it didn’t hurt and
she tried to stay still as power reshaped her body and thoughts. The power
added a new level of clarity to the room around her, and she could see the dust
floating in the beams of light and the grains of the wood in the walls. It was
so hard to concentrate on anything, and she ended up gazing around the room
with her jaw hanging open.

“Yes…
Daisy.”
Moving away from Shan, the edges of Chuang Mu’s black robe
to glitter with a million tiny lights. No, not lights, stars. Entire universes
were embroidered into her robe. Fascinated, Shan followed the play of worlds
upon worlds.

“Shan,”
Chuang Mu said in a sharp voice, and Shan pulled in a quick breath, her
distracted mind trying to process a million things at once.

“Sorry.” She went to scratch at her still sore back, and the
long sleeves of her gown got in the way. “I really appreciate the gown. It's
amazingly beautiful, but is it okay if I change it?”

Silence met her request, and she wondered if she was about
to be the first Chosen picked and smote into pile of dust on the same day.
Shifting nervously, she tried to decipher the mixture of emotions coming from
the goddess. Why couldn't she keep her big mouth shut? She'd just been Chosen,
and her main worry was her clothing? Gods, she was a mess.

Other books

Chained by Lynne Kelly
Eyes in the Sky by Viola Grace
Mackenzie's Mountain by Linda Howard
Designed for Love by Yvette Hines
Death in Mumbai by Meenal Baghel
Executed at Dawn by David Johnson