Weaver of Dreams (16 page)

“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 . . .
”

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.

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 over 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.

He eased back behind the nearest tree to observe her lift her arms above her head and dive from the rock platform on which she stood. Watching her plummet down the length of the falls, his heart leapt to his throat. She hit the water below with a distinctive splash, sending a plume of water shooting up into the air.

Her head emerged from the river just as the water droplets fell back to earth. They sprinkled her head like a light rain and Maggie turned her face up to greet them eagerly. Her eyes closed, a look of pure bliss came over her as the water fell.

Zane had never seen anything so beautiful, not even in his world where the vibrant colors danced. His body was heavy with desire for her. The pull in his chest called him to join her in the water. But he could not. Zane reminded himself he intended to be unpleasant, draw out her negative side. And joining her for a bout of passionate intercourse in the river would not be the way to accomplish the goal.

Gathering his resolve, he rounded the tree. Four determined strides brought him to the river’s edge. His hands fisted on his narrow hips, and he affixed his most angered look. Dammit, that was more difficult than he had anticipated.

He’d spent centuries acting like an affectionate lover in shared dreams. This should be no different. It was still pretending. But somehow this seemed his most difficult part ever.

Zane cleared his throat to draw Maggie’s attention. Her eyes opened wide in surprise, a smile lit her face.

“You came back, Blue Eyes.” Maggie swam for the shore.

“I did.”

Zane watched the water ripple around her in ever-increasing waves, his hands briefly left his hips before he could rein in his instinct to help her from the water.

Realizing his mistake, he crossed his arms over his chest before he spoke. “You look,” his eyes roamed her body from head to toe. “Well.”

Her light brows furrowed down over her eyes. “Where have you been?” She wrapped her arms around her waist in a covering hug.

“Have you not dreamed of me?” Spirits help him, but he wanted to know.

“No.”

Well that answered that, though he suspected as much. He wasn’t a figment of her imagination after all. The only reason he ever appeared in her dream was his own doing. But it still stung a little to hear the admission out loud. He clung to the small hurt, letting the emotion build to give him the strength to continue his plan.

Maggie shifted her weight, looking rather uncomfortable. “Where have you been, Zane?”

“Things needed my attention. Important things,” he lied.

Thick storm clouds darkened the sky around them. He knew her mood manifested weather.

“Did you miss me while you were gone, Zane?”

Only every minute
. “Not at all. Why would I?”

She staggered back as though he dealt her a physical blow. Eyes widening with incredulousness, her mouth gaped open as she stared at him. “Y-you didn’t miss me at all. Not even a little?”

He shook his head, unable to force another hurtful lie from his lips.

“But I thought . . .” Her eyes left his, looking down at the grass. “Never mind.”

Acutely aware of her misery over their conversation, Zane’s stomach twisted into a knot. The chilled wind whipped through the trees, ripping the leaves from their branches, and gave evidence of the hurt he caused her. The sky darkened further, the gray clouds taking the sun from view.

This was it. Her turmoil grew each second, now the negative side of Maggie would emerge. This would to work, just a little longer and an awful side of her personality would come to the fore. At least he hoped so, because he hated being this way toward her.

He stepped forward, his hand cupped her chin. Zane forced her head up, making her meet his gaze. She looked uncomfortable, sad. He pushed on.

“Maggie, surely you didn’t think we shared something special. You were just a pleasant side project while I attended to much more important matters.”

She tried to pull away from him, but his firm grip held her, forcing her to look at him. Tears welled in her eyes.

“I-I thought you cared about me.”

I do, more than you’ll ever know
. Breaking her heart caused him more pain than he thought possible, but he needed to see this through. Soon her pain would turn to anger and he would see her true self.

“You’re just like Mark.” Her tears flowed down her cheeks. “You pretended to care about me, but you don’t. Why can’t I find someone who is nice and sweet, who will love me like I love them?”

She admitted she loved him, when he was being cruel to her. Instead of getting angry, she became sorrowful. Her negative emotions bled into his corporeal form, sickening him and making his stomach twist in protest. It was his undoing.

Zane gathered her into his arms, her soft body pressed tightly against his own. He tucked her head against his shoulder and his hand brushed down her back in soothing strokes

“Maggie, please stop crying.” Nothing made a man feel more useless than seeing a woman cry. “Please, sweetheart. My heart cannot take it.”

“Why do you care?” she asked, her face still against his sweater. She sniffled and he found the sound adorable.

Okay, that was a first.

He put one hand in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a conjured handkerchief. Giving it to Maggie, he said, “Here, please dry your eyes. I’m sorry I upset you. It was stupid. I’m stupid. Please forgive me.”

She wiped her tiny nose and blotted her eyes. “You aren’t stupid. I’m the stupid one. How could I even allow myself to believe a man like you would be in love with a girl like me?”

Zane took her shoulders in his strong hands and put her away from him so he could look down into her eyes. “Maggie, you are an incredible woman. You are beautiful inside and out. Any man would be a fool not to love you.”

She scoffed at the remark, ringing the handkerchief in her delicate fingers. “Yeah, right. That’s why Mark never wanted to be with me and you left me too. Hell, I can’t even keep a man in my dreams.”

He’d acted like an ass. Jolan had been an idiot. Making her upset had been the worst idea. How could he ever think Jolan’s plan would work?

“I had to leave, Maggie, but not because of you.”

“Uh-huh. That’s what they all say. ‘It’s me not you’. Well, I don’t buy it.”

He could not reveal what had taken him from her, could not tell her about his kind, but he wanted to say something to convince her of his sincerity. “Maggie, I care for you,” Zane blurted out in honest desperation.

She stilled under his hands. “What did you say?”

He took a deep breath. Surprised as she to hear his admission, Zane realized it was nonetheless true. “I care about you,” he repeated softly, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

The dream world around them blurred, morphed into a reproduction of her kitchen. Knowing he had not created the change, Zane found himself impressed by how Maggie effected the change effortlessly. Each time they were together in a dream, she surprised him, not only by how she reacted, but how she manipulated their environment. Her uniqueness’ intrigued him.
She
intrigued him.

Guiding her to the kitchen table, Zane pulled out one of the chairs. After handing her into the chair, he toed around the chair next to hers. Straddling it, Zane took one of her hands in his and brought her fingers to his chest, over his heart. “Margret Shea O’Connell, you have stolen my heart.”

A genuine smile reached her eyes. “I care for you too, Zane.”

The sound of crying in the background made his head whip around. “What’s that?”

Maggie stood, pulling her fingers from his chest. “The baby.”

“What baby?”

“Ours, silly.”

Curiosity made him rise and follow her down the hall. Her bedroom had become a unicorn-themed nursery, complete with an infant in a crib. It looked out at them from behind the white bars, tears streaming down its tiny face. It had her chartreuse eyes and his sandy-brown hair.

Maggie moved with a fluid grace across the room. Reaching over the bars, she lifted the child and nestled it against her bosom. Cradled in her arms, the babe settled instantly, a soft cooing sound signaled its contentment.

They made the perfect picture, mother and child. His family. No, not his, he corrected his wayward thoughts.

This was just a dream. It could never come to pass, but watching the two of them interact so lovingly made him want to make this real.

Maggie brought the child to Zane and looked up into his eyes as she handed him the babe.

The child felt so tiny in his thick arms, like he could break it with a twist of his hand. He looked down into its precious face. Wrapped in a tan blanket, looking very much like a papoose with only its head visible, the child turned to look at him. “Boy or girl?” he asked, pulling his gaze from the babe to find Maggie staring at him with a loving look.

Maggie ran the palm of her hand over the child’s head, in a gentle caress. “Girl.”

“She’s as beautiful as her mother,” Zane commented, enjoying the fantasy. He’d never have this in real life, but could experience the wonder of fatherhood in the dream. And he had Maggie to thank for the experience.

The child, the illusion of a family, Maggie created it all. She gave him this blessed gift, this moment of pure happiness.

Unfortunately, this could not last. At some point the dream would have to end and he would once again leave her to go back to his dimension. The realization crashed down on him, tortured him with the knowledge he would leave this wonderful fantasy behind—leave her behind.

He couldn’t keep doing this. It was just too damned hard. Leaving her ripped his heart into tiny pieces, rending it to shreds. Jolan had been so wrong. This one more dream with her had not made it easier to leave her, but instead it made it damned near impossible to do so. And if he didn’t go now, he probably never would.

Zane handed her the baby. “Maggie I need to go.”

“Where?” As she rocked the baby in her arms, she tucked the corner of her blanket under the child’s tiny chin.

He should tell her he was leaving forever, like in their last dream, but he could not bear to see the hurt in her eyes again. He hurt her once tonight, and utterly refused to do so again. Instead he took the gutless way out. “I’m going to get some diapers.”

She’d never believe that. He cringed, his mind working to try to come up with something better.

“Okay. Be safe.”