Page 20 of The Spark that Ignites
“I’ve been pulling you from your nightmares for as long as I can remember. As for how long we have, it depends when you wake or your consciousness shifts. I’m only a visitor here. You created this space. You make the rules.” He waved his arm in the darkness. “Which means you can imagine whatever you want.”
Emmery frowned. “How do I do that?”
“Close your eyes,” he said, his voice softening.
“You expect me to close my eyes when you could whisk me off to Dream Murder Land for all I know?”
Shade exhaled a stunted laugh. “If Dream Murder Land existed, it would only be becauseyoucreated it. But you’re safe here, I assure you. Just imagine where you want to be. Picture it in your mind as clearly as you can. It doesn’t even need to be a real place.” He paused before adding, “If you want me to stay, take my hand. If not, I’ll disappear.”
Tension bracketed her shoulders because ... did she want him to stay? “It seems rude to send you away after saving me from drowning.”
“Technically, I saved you fromdreamdrowning, but I’ll accept the credit.”
“What do—” Suddenly nervous, she swallowed hard, her eyes skimming his blurred form. “What do we usually do?”
He swept a stray lock of wet hair behind her ear and Emmery shivered, but not from her damp clothes. “Whatever pleases you, Emmery.”
Her cheeks warmed from the way he said that—whatdidthey do in her dreams? And her name in that accent of his had her toes curling in her soggy boots.
Emmery squeezed her eyes shut, dying to at least feel somewhat put together and maybe to escape his seductive stare for a second. She imagined dry clothes, charcoal tweed trousers tucked into knee high black leather boots, and a green tunic to match his eyes. When she met his stare once more, her hair was dry and neatly styled into her typical braid. Boring but practical.
Shade eyed her like he wanted to demonstrate exactly what he meant and how he would please her. Not that she would indulge, but the strange desire to sink into him inflated the air between them.
Her arm brushed against his cold mist again, and she frowned. He was there but ... well, not. And that in itself was infuriating.
Emmery’s eyes caressed the muddied contours of his body. “Can you feel me?” she asked a little hesitantly, not sure what she wanted his answer to be.
The corner of his mouth pulled up as if he could see where her thoughts were headed. “I can but it’s like holding someone through a thick blanket. I know you’re there and I feel your weight but it’s ...” He searched for the word. “Obstructed. Distorted.”
She supposed that answered enough of her query about his intentions and what they did in this space. Because if they couldn’t feel one another, what was the point?
Eyes locked, they stood together in the inky darkness, the silent air settling a calmness in her chest. Could she really imagine anywhere? Anything? And did she want this strange man with her?
Emmery had never given much thought to where she would escape to if she could be anywhere in the world, besides beyond the gate, though she had no clue where to begin imagining what that looked like. “Where do you want to go?” she asked.
Shade gave her a wistful smile. “I want to be wherever you are.” The genuine sweetness in his tone caught her off guard. But he remembered her even if she didn’t so maybe this unexplained connection made sense. Maybe it was okay that it felt right. And what memories did he have that she couldn’t recall? She wanted to know everything. Every minute detail of their time together.
“If I don’t send you away, will you tell me everything? About all the other nights.”
He placed a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to his. “As you wish.”
Emmery’s eyes fluttered closed, and she pictured a cloudless night sky, the stars winking at them as they laid out in a garden, white tenting draped overhead, the rhythmic pitter-patter of rain drumming against it. Covering the ground the dark plum-coloured roses, found only in her dreams, bloomed in the moonlight.
Emmery searched for his hand before finishing the image and her fingers clasped his, tangling together as he claimed their paths had countless nights, and she clung to his strange, somehow familiar comfort.
Chapter Seven
Daylight speared through the windows as shrill bird calls wrenched Emmery from sleep. It was too damn early, and her parched mouth cried out for water. A pulse thumped against her temples as she rolled over in her old bed, squeezing her aching eyes shut and recalling her tormented night.
Every corner of this place still held memories of her sister. Every scuff in the floorboards from Maela’s decrepit rocking horse, the smudged paint from her drawings on the wall, and her impossibly genuine laugh that still seemed to warm these empty halls. Gods, that girl had left a raw, jagged hole in Emmery’s life—even after all this time.
Maela. Emmery’s heart bled her name with each sluggish beat.
Emmery dragged a hand down her face, her plan spinning in her head like a tumultuous tornado. Because deep in her soul, she knew it would be her only chance, and she couldn’t let it slip by. So, despite Vesper’s warning she was determined to resurrect her sister.
Whether it was to atone for all the times she’d failed her or because missing Maela cracked open and expanded the black hollowness inside her, she wasn’t sure. But her sister was the only one who ever truly loved her—without fault or consequence.
So, last night, Emmery plotted.
