Page 41 of Centaur Bolt

Most of the time.

I followed the Watcher into the kitchen. “I can help.”

“Okay.” She opened the fridge and pulled out eggs and a package of sausages. “Your question does not have an easy answer. Have you dreamed of him often?”

“Often enough.”

Cara surveyed my flushed face and smiled. “Like that, eh?”

“They are very—intense.” I swallowed. “I had another last night.”

Her gaze sharpened. “Did he speak to you?”

My face grew even hotter. I must be glowing by now, but I answered her. “He told me that if a dream was the only way he could have me, then so be it.”

She frowned. “Why would he say that?”

“The previous times—he started to transform, and it startled me. Once in a dream, and once—well, he pulled away. But this time, he didn’t.”

“He transformed in the dream?” Her hands paused in the act of throwing sausages on the grill.

“Yes. Is that unusual?”

“Not for shifters. But I guess he qualifies now.” The sausages sizzled as she dumped them into the pan.

“He told me he had something scary living inside him.”

“He does.” Cara turned away and busied herself with breaking the eggs into a bowl. She handed it to me, along with a whisk. “Scrambled is best.”

I met her gaze and saw the worry in it. “Was he really there?”

She nodded. “He definitely might have been. Which means we have yet another excellent reason to find Marcus.”

Kiko had been following along from her seat at the table. “If they’re m—” she broke off when Cara cast her a look.

I thought it was a bit odd, but as I whisked the eggs, I focused on the important things. “Can I use the dreams to find Marcus?”

The Watcher’s mouth straightened. “There is the possibility if he knows the location, and you can focus him enough to tell you.” She poked at the sausages. “But from what I’ve heard, most living dreams center around cementing the bond. That he had the presence of mind to talk was unusual.”

“Marcus is unusual,” I stated.

“Yes, that is true.” She sighed.

I pushed. “What if I can get him to show me where he is? Would I be able to Jump to him?”

Her alarm was genuine and immediate. “Don’t you dare try, Riley. You are only just beginning to understand your talent.”

“But Jacques said you’ve directed Sparkle by showing her an image—“

“Phoenixes are experienced Jumpers, born to the talent. And just because she can do it, doesn’t mean you can.” When I didn’t respond, she dropped her spatula and grabbed me by both shoulders, forcing me to meet her gaze. “I mean it, Riley. What he shows you in a dream might have no basis in reality. You could die.”

The bowl was trapped between us, and I continued to beat at the eggs as if the effort kept the conversation casual. But I raised my chin. A sure sign I was about to get stubborn.

Cara gave me a tiny shake. “I need you to promise me you won’t try it.”

Tears pricked my eyes. “That bitch has him. Who knows what she’s doing as we are standing here making breakfast. If he shows me where he is, how can I not try?”

The Watcher’s eyes flashed, and her fingers squeezed, hard. “Let’s compromise on this, then. If you see something in a dream that might work, come to me with it. We can assess it together.”

---