Page 39 of Nightmare's Flight

“So much for waiting up for Baz,” I muttered and reached out to flip on the light. The blanket someone—likely Baz—had covered me with had faint traces of Geraint’s scent on it. I tightened my fingers on the edge and pulled it to my face, burying my nose in the soft fleece.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I kept them from falling.

Cloth shifted, and I sat up, keenly aware that I wasn’t alone. Baz’s scent, reminiscent of a fresh spring morning, swirled through the room and mingled with the older scents of my guys. It smelled right, but having him here felt weird—awkward. Well, I couldn’t ignore him forever, and by his change in breathing I’d woken him when I turned on the light.

“Thank you for covering me. I meant to stay awake so we could talk, but I must have fallen asleep.”

“It’s all right, Ember.” His voice sounded stronger with the rest we’d both had. Much of the richness had returned and for a moment I remembered a younger version of Baz and the fun and adventures we’d had.

I reached for my phone to check the time, then remembered I didn’t have it anymore. That, more than anything else, drove home just how much my life was unraveling. I fought off a few more tears.

“Are you okay?” Baz shifted around until he was leaning against the wall, just in view.

“I should be asking you that.” I pulled the covers over my face. “And no.”

“Ahh, fair point, and my answer is the same.” His voice softened, though I could hear the edge of pain in it.

I sobbed out a laugh. “You want to go first?”

“No. How about you?”

“I don’t even know where to start. What’s the last thing you remember before we woke you up?” I pushed the covers back and scooted until I was sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard with my arms wrapped around my legs.

“Having my essence torn out,” he replied flatly.

“That sounds horrible.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah.” He inhaled then climbed to his feet. “I’m going to take another quick shower then we can talk.”

“Yeah, okay.” I could use a swing through the bathroom, too. Once Baz was out of the room, I got out of bed and looked out the window. From the angle of the shadows, it was late afternoon. We’d both slept for a long time.

The soft woosh of the air conditioning kicking in and the resultant swirling of the scents as the air moved around the room distracted me for a while as I tried to sort out the different trails. This new ability of mine was crazy.

Baz tapped lightly on the door then came back into the room. I let my gaze wander his familiar features. His frown softened when he looked at me, despite what had to be crazy bedhead and I was sure my eyes were red from trying not to cry.

Wordlessly, I went into the bathroom, went through my routine, then came back out. Baz rocked slowly in the chair, which he’d pulled over to the wall where Geraint had tacked up all my pictures. The one of me and Knight had Baz’s attention.

“I believe I have a million questions,” he finally said, turning to look at me.

“You’ve missed out on a lot.”

“Perhaps you should fill me in.” He looked back at the drawing before shaking his head and turning the chair so it faced me instead of the pictures.

“Where do you want me to start?”

He shrugged, and even that effort cost him. “It’s been ten years, or so I’m told.”

“Oh, shit, I didn’t even think of that. Dio hasn’t been missing as long, and, well, I just didn’t realize.”

He shrugged again.

“Well, the others will have to fill you in on events in Dream, beyond what I know. Basically, they replaced you with not-Baz.”

That description pulled a half-smile from the real Baz.

“Who was an utter douche-canoe. No one realized it wasn’t you until just recently, so there’s that.”

“Fantastic,” he replied, voice heavy with sarcasm.

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