Page 18 of Darkdream

Six

LIBRA

There is a…man, I suppose…standing in the middle of the room. Man is a loose term, because there is nothing remotely human about him. But he’s certainly male.

He’s huge, with dark gray skin and pale silvery-gray eyes. His face is striking, beautifully sculpted, somehow both delicate and masculine. Spikes run along his shoulders, and his skin is covered in intriguing whorls. Between the horns on his head rests a silver headpiece, while piercings—silver hoops and studs—decorate him in various places.

He is handsome and monstrous and terrifying, something straight from a nightmare.

Instinctively, I back away. I’m not scared, precisely, although I should be. A stranger has just appeared in my cabin. But it’s not fear I’m feeling, and he doesn’t exactly seem like a stranger.

Talk about confusing.

“What the fuck is happening?” I scrub a hand over my face, trying to make my muddled mind work faster.

“Libra?” he says, concern in his voice.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

He looks puzzled. “I’ve come for you.”

This non-human thing has come for me? Well, that’s not fucking ominous, is it? “What the hell are you talking about? Come for me to do what?”

“To take you back to my court. You left unexpectedly.” He frowns and steps closer, studying me. “Are you feeling all right?”

His court. That sounds familiar. I wrack my brain until I come up with something: the land of nightmares. That was what he told me, wasn’t it? That he was the King of Nightmares. But when did he tell me that? Where?

“Who are you?”

“Who am I?” He shakes his head, seeming a little offended. “Come now, Libra. You know who I am. Think.”

I take a deep breath, and suddenly, my brain puts it together. I have met him before, multiple times, in multiple forms. Just never while I was awake. That’s what’s wrong with this scenario. He’s not supposed to be here, because I’m not sleeping. I only see him in my dreams.

“Callister,” I say slowly.

“Yes. It’s time to go back to the dreams. You can choose—do you want to frighten Evan again, or would you prefer something more…pleasurable?”

“Back to the dreams? Which ones?” Everything still feels hazy, and I can’t quite latch onto whatever he’s talking about.

“Any of them,” he says silkily. “We can revisit tentacles if you like—you seemed to enjoy those a great deal. Or if you want to torment Evan in the sanitarium again, that can be arranged. Though surely we can be more creative than to repeat what we’ve already done.”

Hold on. If what he’s saying is true…

“Wait. The haunted house was a dream?”

“Of course it was a dream.” He seems confused by my confusion. “That’s where my power lies. You got your revenge and I feasted on his delicious fear. We should do that again. You really can be quite creative when you put your mind to it. Your past is useful in that regard.”

My confidence deflates like air seeping out of a balloon. Of course, I’m still scared of Evan finding me, but I was riding high on the knowledge that I had recently spooked his ass and could do it again.

In retrospect,of courseit was a dream. What was I thinking, that I snuck out of the cabin long enough to torture him with demons? All while losing track of time and contracting some sort of mystery illness? What the fuck? That makes no sense. But it just felt so real…

“How long have I been sleeping?”

He shrugs. “On and off for a few days as we’ve explored various dreams together. It’s a benefit of my protection. I can keep you alive, but in a dream state. You have no need for food and water when we travel dreams. Meanwhile, you’re free to explore my realm. Help me create delicious nightmares.”

Aha. Now things are starting to make sense. Why I look and feel like shit, why I lost time, why I don’t know what the hell is going on. I’ve been trapped in his realm, while my body has been here, wasting away.

Then something else he said registers.

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