Page 23 of The Arbiter

My eyes roam over the landscape, and I can’t hold back the gasp that leaves my mouth. It’s a replica of the city next to the Apothecary, and I recognize several of the buildings out in the distance. Eerily, this place looks like it’s been struck by every natural disaster known to man and then set on fire. What wasn’t set on fire is nothing but rubble and ruin.

That sexy voice speaks again and traps me inside of his words. “What do you think, my queen? Does this please you?” I can’t even look at him since his voice alone could convince me to commit murder. There’s no telling what looking into his eyes will make me want to do. When I don’t answer, he says, “I have prepared an army for you as well. We have all the resources to reign supreme over everything.”

This is a dream. Ithasto be. I pinch my arm in the hopes it’ll wake me up, but I’m trapped in this place, in this hell.

There’s movement below us. Daring a look down there, I see that the stranger has indeed amassed an army of at least several thousand, and they aren’t human. Beasts of carnage and sin would be more accurate. No two look the same, and they’re each just as gruesome as the next. Black slimy skin covers their entire bodies, and the eyes vary from one up to four, but the one thing that’s a common denominator with all of them is teeth.Holy Damnation, the teeth. Each creature has rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth that they’re using to tear each other apart. Down on all fours, they could almost be mistaken as rabid, hairless dogs. The foul rotten egg stench that wafts up to us on the platform makes me gag.

Looking back to the stranger with the sultry voice, his eyes meet mine, and when he blinks, they flash red and then back again. The haze lifts for a second, and I see the curved horns sitting atop his head. Without a second thought, I let go of his arm and race back toward the door, my heart pounding in rhythm with my foot falls and air constricting in my lungs. The last thing I want to do is head anywhere near the creatures on the ground, but I have to get out of this nightmare.

I don’t hear the man on my heels, so I don’t think he followed me. Of course, I have no clue where I’m going and get lost in a matter of minutes. My bare feet slap against the floor as I try to find a way out that doesn’t involve death.

Please wake up, Nocturna.

Turning another corner, I come face to face with a giant iron cage suspended from the ceiling, and there’s something sitting inside. My heart beats a little faster, recognizing that silhouette from somewhere. A hand lands on my shoulder, and I scream.

My scream continues outside of the nightmare as I jerk upright in bed, Monroe stirring next to me.

“What’s wrong, chérie?” he asks as he sits up. One of his hands runs up and down my spine in a soothing motion. “Nocturna? You’re covered in sweat. Are you okay?”

I nod to him silently, in no way ready to share what I just saw. “I’m fine,” I rasp. “Just had a bad dream. I’m going to go get some water, but I’ll be right back.”

“You sure?” he asks.

“Positive,” I say putting on my best fake smile.

Hopping up out of bed, I make my way out to the kitchen. My heart still pounds as that haunting voice echoes through my reeling mind, the smell of sulfur still burning in my nose and throat. I fill a glass with water so that I don’t look like a liar, and as I stick it under the water, the place where I pinched my arm in the nightmare comes into view.

A huge bruise marks my pale skin. The mirror above my sink casts my reflection back at me as I look up, and tor a second, I think I see a shadowy, black figure standing behind me. I gasp and spin at the same time, the movement knocking my glass to the floor where it shatters, sending shards skidding across the floor. There’s nothing behind me.

Monroe flips the light switch on as he comes out of the bedroom.

“Oh, ma chérie,” is all he says softly before he starts to help me clean up the mess. Without questioning my behavior, he quietly helps me. He’s too kind to me sometimes. What did I do to deserve him?

I stand on stage waiting to take my cue from the music. It starts, and everything but my dance leaves my head. I see no faces and hear no voices as I move my body to the beat. This is my calling, where I belong. When nothing else in my life wants to go right, there's always dancing. After the stress of the past week on top of the nightmare from last night, Ineedthis. I can still hear the strange man’s voice and smell the sulfur of the creatures. To blot it out, I dance harder.

I make it almost all the way through the song before a voice cuts through my euphoria. "That's right, baby. Shake that ass."

One of my biggest pet peeves is pervs who think this is some kind of strip club. Ignoring the sound, I just listen to the music and go back to dancing, leaving the problem to my people.

The voice only gets louder, the lines more vulgar, and oddly enough, more familiar.Where the actual fuck are Felix and Cedric?

When the voice gets cut off mid-sentence, I thank all that is holy that they finally shut him up and finish my dance with a flourish in hopes that people will forget the shit that spewed out of that asshole's mouth.

I take a bow to the applause and find my way backstage.

"Umm, Nocturna, we have a problem," Jamie says, peeking her head through the curtains.

I already feel in my gut that it has to do with the asshole from earlier. Following her out, she leads me to a dark corner near the bar, and what I find pulls me up short.

Larkan has Enoch up against the wall with his forearm against his throat, choking him. His hood is up, but I know that it’s him.No wonder that voice was so familiar.I'm going to hazard a guess and say that Enoch was the asshole shouting at me. He catches my eyes and taps Larkan's arm. "Come on, mate. Let me down."

Larkan's voice is icy enough to freeze water. "I'm not your fucking mate, and you owe Nocturna an apology."

My gut goes jittery at his chivalry, and of course, Enoch just doesn't know when to shut up. "She knows I was kidding. Tell him, Amare." He says the last while meeting my gaze with a smarmy grin.

Larkan's arm tightens against Enoch's throat. "Don’t fucking call her that!"

It's at this point Monroe walks out of one of the back rooms looking very much like the sexy Strige he is. He tucks his hands in his pockets and smirks at me. "Well, isn't this a lovely development."

---