Page 29 of Bonds of Magic
He nodded, eyes fixed on me.
“You don’t find a dream, exactly,” I told him. “You let the dream find you. If you go searching for it, you’re giving the dream the power to elude you. The trick is to remember that you’re made of the same material that constructs the dreamworld, and the dreamworld exists always, whether or not a given human is asleep and in contact with it. The more you know about a person in the real world, the easier it should be to find their dream. And once you’ve done it for the first time, you should be able to find them every time after that with no trouble.”
“Yeah, but you still haven’t explainedhowto find them, except to say that I can’t.” He frowned. “How do you know all of this, anyway? You’re telling me way more than Professor Romero ever did. I don’t get it. The dean was sure you could teach me, but you’re—”
“Just go to sleep,” I told him. I’d had enough of spilling my secrets for the night. “We’ll work on finding a specific dream another time.”
Cory huffed, but rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. I waited a few moments, then wondered if he was waiting for me to talk him into falling asleep again. I’d never asked.
I might as well do it. I’d been lucky, in a way, having someone to walk me through all of this when I’d come into my powers. The least I could do was pay it forward.
“Like we talked about before,” I said, “you’re made of dream stuff. A part of you is human. That part of you is connected to the waking world. That part of you is your anchor. But the other half—that part of you is always in contact with the dreamworld. Thatpart is always dreaming. All you have to do is get in touch with it.”
I watched Cory fall asleep in stages as I talked. First, the crease in his forehead disappeared. Then, the tension around his eyes relaxed. Next, his jaw slackened, his lips parting slightly. His hands had been clasped over his waist, but they slowly unknotted, and his right arm fell to the side. He was under before I was done talking.
If watching him fall asleep was interesting, watching himbeasleep was fascinating. With no one watching, I could admit that to myself. Cory always seemed so wary, ready to run or brace for a punch. He was gorgeous any time, but in sleep, his features were peaceful in a way I’d never seen before.
I wondered about that. From the sound of it, the kid’s parents—or his dad, at least—were homophobic. I’d been lucky. I’d discovered my bisexuality later in life, but I knew my mother would never have cared either way. She’d always made it clear she loved me no matter what.
My mouth pulled into a snarl as I imagined Cory’s dad spewing hate at him. I’d never had any use for bigots, and if his dad had played any role in turning Cory into the watchful, self-ashamed man he was today, I yearned for a chance to find the guy and beat him into a pulp.
“Stupid,” I muttered to myself. What would that help, now? The best thing I could do for Cory was to teach him all that I knew and then keep clear of him.
Was Cory feeling shame even now, in whatever dream he’d entered? It shouldn’t be possible to force him to do something he didn’t want to—not unless Argus had found him. But if Corywere conflicted over what he wanted, I could see the dreams being hard for him.
Before I knew I was doing it, I stood up and crossed to the other side of the room. I sat down on the edge of the sofa, watching Cory’s face for any minute changes, any sign that I was disturbing his sleep by being this close. But there was nothing.
At this distance, I could see his eyelashes flutter softly. His chest rose and fell in deep, even breaths. His wrists looked frail, sticking out of the oversized sweater he was wearing, and I wondered if he was cold. I hadn’t lit a fire tonight.
I took Cory’s right hand in my own to see if it felt warm, and was thrown into a vertigo so strong and so sudden, I almost passed out. The whole room spun, and my stomach tried to eject itself from my body. I closed my eyes against the whirling sensation, feeling sweat break out on my forehead. Finally, the room stopped spinning, and I opened my eyes.
I was right where I expected to be, sitting on the edge of my couch. Cory was there too.
But a second Cory was standing in the middle of the room.
There were two of him. The one who was asleep, whose hand I was holding, and the misty, translucent one who was standing four feet from me, trailing his hand down another man’s chest.
I stared, a million feelings warring inside me. Shock. Desire. Jealousy. Guilt. But above all else—amazement. How was this even possible?
My stomach tightened as Cory’s hand reached the man’s belt buckle. His long, thin fingers made quick work of undoing it, andas his hand unzipped the man’s fly, he leaned in and pressed his face against the man’s neck.
He inhaled deeply, like he was trying to imprint the man’s scent in his mind, on his skin. His lips parted, pressing a kiss to the man’s collar bone, and when I blinked, I realized there were tears in my eyes.
I was watching the dream that Cory was in right now. I had no doubt. Even if what Cory was doing hadn’t given it away, I could tell because of the…flavor of it. The feel. The sound, even though it was soundless.
None of those words were right, but there wasn’t a good word in English to explain how I knew in my bones that I was seeing into the dreamworld, a world I could no longer reach myself.
Argus had cut that ability out of me seven years ago. Severed me from something I needed to live. But it was also something I’d loved. There was a sensuality to the dreamworld. The sex, sure. But the freedom, the creativity, the taste of it. I’d been dry for years, but I’d never lost my thirst.
I needed to let go of Cory’s hand. I knew that. This was his dream—his, and whoever that man was. I was peering into something that wasn’t my business.
But I was too stunned to do it. Too thrilled. It wasn’t the same as being able to dream myself, but being able to see it again, to be on the edge? It made me wonder how I’d lasted all these years with nothing but Isaac’s trances. It made me feel how much of a husk I’d become.
As I watched, the other man pushed Cory back against something I couldn’t see. Slowly, Cory sank to his knees.
God, I was hard. Throbbing. My left hand twitched towards my own fly, but I stopped myself. That was a line I couldn’t cross.
I forced myself to look away. Watching this wasn’t right. But I couldn’t bring myself to drop Cory’s hand either. I wanted that connection so badly, even if I couldn’t let myself look at it.
