Page 45 of Lost in the Dark

“Nobody does as good a job as you, baby. You know that.” He leans over and kisses her, hard and deep.

It’s aggressive, an act of ownership, not love. I may not understand humanity that well, but I can tell this is wrong. I frown.

“Eliza, it’s not a big deal,” he says when he pulls back. “You’re doing me a favor. You’re my girlfriend; surely you don’t mind helping me out? I’d go if I could, but I have another appointment. You know how busy I am. It’s how I afford to buy you gifts, like that bracelet you’re wearing.”

Her expression is torn and she fiddles with the silver chain on her wrist. “Of course I want to help. But Jonas creeps me out. He always hits on me.”

“You’re probably imagining it. He’s just being friendly.”

“I swear I’m not. He’s says stuff like how he wants to take me out, how I should call him if we ever break up, how pretty he thinks I am. That kind of thing.”

The man, Evan, rolls his eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“But I don’t!” Libra—Eliza—curls in on herself, shoulders slumping.

“He’s one of my best clients, and you’re part of why. He likes you, Eliza. As long as you keep making deliveries, he’ll keep buying.”

“But he’s always touching me. A hand on my knee, or brushing his fingers along my neck. He doesn’t respect that I’m with you, Evan. I only like it when you touch me. Not when your friends do. I know you think sharing me with them is a good reward for them, but I only want you, baby.”

That catches my attention. He shares her with his friends? When she’s unwilling? Some primal part of me deep inside surges with anger. She’s just a child and she deserves so much better than this asshole. I shake my head and remind myself that this dream is a memory. It already happened. I can’t save her from this, but I’m proud that she managed to save herself.

Even through my anger, the citrusy taste of her fright sings to me. I make a decision. I have to find a way to keep her and her fear in my life, but also save her from the memories of this man. There must be a way to do that.

Evan’s jaw goes tight. “Do you have any idea how much money I make off Jonas? He can touch you all he wants, so long as he keeps buying from my supply. I told him he was welcome to you.”

“You don’t mean that. Evan, please don’t make me go—”

Her words are cut off by his sudden movement.

With barely a blink, he strikes, slapping her hard across the face. “Stop arguing and deliver the fucking product. We’re done talking about it.”

He gets up and storms away, leaving her sobbing in his wake. “Evan, wait!” she calls, but he doesn’t return.

He’s given her an order, and it’s clear he expects to be obeyed.

It’s irrational, but it bothers me that she’s dreaming of another man, even though this is the very type of dream I sought out. But the way he treated her…I may feed on human fear, but I never cause them physical harm. I don’t want her dreaming of him, even if she despises him. I only want her dreaming of me. Or at the very least, if she must dream of him, I want it to be a dream I control. One where he’ll never touch her again.

Is this what jealousy is? How curious. It’s a uniquely human emotion, one I’ve never come close to experiencing. And yet, I suspect it’s what I’m feeling.

I look at her, tears rolling down her face as she prepares to deliver her boyfriend’s drugs to a man who scares her, who maybe hurts her, and something wrenches in my heart. I have a burning need to ease her pain, so I enter the dream, making my presence known to her.

“Shhhh,” I say, cupping her cheek. “Stop crying. There’s no need for tears.”

She looks up and gives a little hiccup. “Who are you?”

“It’s me,” I tell her. “Callister. We’ve met before. Don’t you remember?”

She frowns. Her subconscious should recognize my name, but also knows I don’t belong in this dream. “You look different,” she finally says.

It’s true. Without thinking, I entered her mind in my true form, revealing my horns, my charcoal skin, my crown. “Don’t worry about that,” I say, extending a hand. “If you let me, I can take you far away from here. Somewhere you’ll be safe.”

“Where?” she asks, her voice filled with suspicion.

“Leave this dream,” I command softly.

There’s a disconcerting swirl as reality shifts. We’re in her realm now, in the darkened bedroom of the little cabin at the lake. Her eyes are still closed. She’s not asleep, but not awake either. She’s in a twilight state in between, where this still feels like a nightmare.

I inhale deeply, enjoying the sweet taste of her terror. Without thinking, I lean down and lick her cheek, the flavor of it even stronger on her sweat-slicked skin. I shiver with delight at the flavor. “I know you can hear me. And I know you know who I am.”

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