Before I Wake (31 page)

Read Before I Wake Online

Authors: Kathryn Smith

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #General, #Nightmare 01

I was at home, on the sofa with Fudge, trying to distract myself with television, when Noah called.

“Come for dinner.” It was a command, he expected no refusal on my part.

I stared at the phone. Was this the beginning of aggressive behavior? Had Karatos already taken him over like I feared? No. If Karatos had taken Noah, I’d know.

I’d be dead by now. Karatos would have played with me for a bit, but he wouldn’t have been able to contain himself for long.

“What are you having?” I asked, smiling in relief.

“Indian.”

“My favorite. Where are you ordering from?”

There was a chuckle on the other end. “I’m making it.”

My heart flip-flopped as my mouth began to water. A man who could cook. And not only cook, but cook Indian?

“What time do you want me?” I asked, flirting shamelessly.

“Hmm, trick question.” His voice had dropped considerably, to a low, sexy growl. “What time would you like to come?”

Shivers. Big, delicious shivers running down my spine. Tightening in places already tight and oh, there was throbbing. “I have to get a bath and change…”

“You could take a bath here.” More of that sexy voice.

He had to know I would think of him in the tub with me. He had to. Noah, wet and slippery. I closed my eyes. “Don’t tempt me.”

I couldn’t take a bath at his place. I needed to soak a little of the day out of me before I went to see him.

“Come over whenever you’re ready.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll be here.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

I was just about to hang up when he stopped me. “Dawn?”

“Yeah?”

“Bring an overnight bag.” Then he hung up.

I stood there, phone in hand, slightly dazed and shaky. This was going so fast. Too fast maybe. But I had no intention of slowing it down. I don’t think Noah did either.

I ran a bath and soaked for as long as my hormones would let me. I’m not ashamed to admit that I wanted to get to Noah’s in the worst way. I wanted to see him, touch him, taste him. As long as I was with him, I knew he was safe. I felt safe.

So I rubbed myself down with a sugar scrub that smelled like coconuts, made sure I hadn’t missed any spots shaving my legs or armpits, and took a brand-new pumice to my feet. Then I dried off and lathered my still-damp skin with a moisturizer that matched the scrub. I fixed my makeup and got dressed in stretch jeans and a teal blue sweater that really brought out my eyes—which had fully returned to their normal color, thank God. I left my hair pinned up and put a pair of big gold hoops through my ears. Satisfied with my appearance, smell, and overall touchability, I dug out a leather overnight bag I had gotten through a Lancôme Christmas offer and packed clothes for work tomorrow. I tossed my robe in as well, and my makeup bag. There. I was good to go.

I left a note for Lola because sometimes she worried. I worried about her, too, especially with Karatos knowing who she was.

But Morpheus had someone watching over her, and I knew she was as safe as she could be.

By the time I got to Noah’s almost two hours had passed since he’d called. He answered the door barefoot, in frayed jeans and an old gray T-shirt. He took my bag as I stepped inside. As he pushed the door closed, he moved farther and farther into my space, until my back was against the wall, and he was just as hard against my front. He kissed me—not tenderly or hesitantly, but like a man who wanted to eat me alive. My heart immediately began slamming against my ribs—I think it was trying to throw itself at Noah’s feet. And my breath—well I think I forgot to breathe, because when he stepped back, breaking the kiss, I was gasping like a floundering tuna.

He held my hand as he tugged me up the stairs behind him. The apartment smelled of tikka paste, garlic, and coriander. My stomach growled. The fragrant warmth wrapped around me, so inviting and homey. I felt like I belonged here, like I was welcome and wanted.

“Dinner’s ready,” Noah told me as he set my bag at the foot of the stairs leading to the bedroom. “Wine?”

“Sure. Can I help with anything?”

“Nope,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the kitchen. “It’s under control.”

A few minutes later we were at the table, which was filled with delicious-smelling food, and lit with warm, vanilla-scented candles.

A bottle of wine sat in the middle of it all, adding its own lush bouquet to the potpourri that was dinner. Everything smelled and looked amazing, and I told him so.

We sat, and he poured me a glass of wine. I wasn’t ready to tell him about what Antwoine had said, so I stuck to safer topics.

“Did you get any painting done today?”

He shook his head. “Didn’t feel like it. I had lunch with my mother instead. You?”

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t paint either.”

He grinned. “Smart-ass.”

I wanted to tell him what had happened with my eyes. Other than Antwoine, he was the only human I could tell, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It was freaky even for me, and Noah already had a lot to get used to where I was concerned. I didn’t want to add something I couldn’t explain to the list.

Dinner was one long mouth orgasm. The chicken tikka masala was to die for, as were the sag paneer, chana masala, and lamb vindaloo. There was basmati rice, too, just the way I like it. And the naan was delicious. He had cooked far too much, but we made the biggest dent we could in it.

“You’re amazing,” I told him, unable to stuff another bite in. “That was fabulous.”

“Take some for lunch tomorrow,” he said, as we cleaned up later. “I won’t eat it all.”

How very domestic of him. He even put some in a divided plastic container for me.

We were on the sofa, Damien Rice drifting softly from the stereo speakers, when Noah gave me a half smile over the rim of his wineglass. “Spill it.”

“Excuse me?” I had a hunch he wasn’t talking about my own wine.

“You’ve been fidgety ever since you got here. What happened today?”

No more dodging. I sighed. “I spoke to my friend today—the guy I thought might know what Karatos is up to.”

When I didn’t say anything else, Noah arched a brow. “What did he say?”

“He could be wrong.” I just wanted to get that straight. “Just because he has experience with this kind of thing doesn’t make him an expert. He’s not Dreamkin, he’s human.”

“Okay. Now tell me the rest.” He really was showing a lot of patience. I would have taken my head off by now.

“You need to stay out of The Dreaming, though, okay? It’s too dangerous. Morpheus will have people watching out for you, but I don’t want to risk your safety, not when Karatos wants you so badly.”

Noah was watching me carefully, with his face perfectly blank. “Why does he want me so badly, Doc?”

I looked down. Then away. Anywhere but in Noah’s eyes. “Antwoine thinks he wants to use you to cross over into this world.”

After the words left my mouth I dared glance at him. He was still watching me, expression unchanged.

“How?”

I forced myself to hold his gaze this time. “I suspect he’s going to try to possess you.”

“Possess me?” His brow lowered dubiously, scoffing even. “That’s not possible, is it?”

“I think it is.”

“Shit!” He jumped to his feet. Holding his wineglass by the rim, down by his thigh, he paced in front of the windows. “Fuck.”

I knew how he felt. “We’ll stop him, Noah.”

His gaze flew to mine, and I saw the anger there. “We’ll stop him? You mean you’ll stop him, right? I’m not even supposed to dream, for Christ’s sake.”

The only time I ever saw Noah angry was when he felt like his control was being taken away—when he felt helpless. I wasn’t afraid of him, but I felt for him.

“Yeah. I’ll stop him.”

He shook his head, mouth set grimly. “I don’t like this. I don’t want you fighting my fucking battles.”

“Noah…”

“And I’m just supposed to sit around and let you. Too fucking weak to do anything else.”

Okay, he was really getting overheated.

“Noah,” I said in my firmest tone as I rose to my feet. “Karatos didn’t choose you because you’re weak. You know that, don’t you?” I tried to put my hand on his face, but he pulled away. “He chose you because you’re strong. Strong enough to host a creature that can’t survive on its own in this world.”

He stared at me, still stiff and full of anger. “He’ll hurt you. I don’t want to—I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I don’t know if it’s possible for the human heart actually to swell with emotion, but mine felt as if it was doing just that. “I’m not going to be alone. I’ll have Morpheus with me. But I can’t beat him if you let him in, Noah. None of us can.”

I could see the change in his body as some of his agitation eased. “What will happen if he crosses over?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “He’ll be free to do whatever he likes. He lives on fear, so I’m assuming he’ll hurt people.

Probably rape, torture—your basic serial-killer stuff.” How calm I sounded—so in denial and disconnected.

“And he’ll use me to do it.”

I nodded. “I figure he’ll start with people familiar to him.”

It didn’t take long for the implications of that to sink in. “You.” He sounded as sick as I felt.

And Noah’s family, but I didn’t say that.

The muscle in Noah’s jaw ticked. “You really think we can stop him?”

I smiled at “we.” “I do.” Oddly enough, it was true. “Without you, he’s nothing.”

A harsh bark of laughter escaped him. “Great.”

This time he didn’t draw back from my touch, and I put my hands on the solid wall of his chest, felt the heat and hardness of him beneath my palms. His free arm went around me, pulling me tight against him.

“Be careful,” he warned.

I nodded. “I will be.”

“If he hurts you…” The rest of the sentence hung unfinished between us as our gazes locked. I couldn’t fathom what he was thinking, but I was warmed by it regardless. Men didn’t talk like this unless they cared. Unless they cared a lot.

I don’t know which of us leaned in first, which one of us gave in first, but the next thing I knew we were kissing like our lives depended on it. Maybe they did.

Noah set his wine on the coffee table, then he bent down and swept me up into his arms. The beautiful man actually picked me up!

“Noah, no. I’m too heavy…”

“Quiet,” he growled. “You’re perfect.”

Oh yeah, I was in so much danger of falling for him.

He carried me up to the bedroom, and I stayed quiet like I was told. He undressed me slowly, caressed, kissed and teased every inch of me with excruciating slowness. It seemed like he had something to prove—that by driving me to the point of sexual madness he was somehow regaining the power Karatos took from him. I didn’t mind.

When he finally slid inside me, our bodies were slick with sweat and mine hummed with tension. I wrapped my arms around him, gripped his ribs with my thighs.

“Look at me,” he commanded, voice low and raw.

I did. We moved together, our gazes locked. It was so strange to gaze into a man’s eyes as he made me quiver and gasp. To see the need and desire reflected back at me in the darkness of his gaze as his body pumped into mine.

What I saw in Noah scared me as much as it thrilled me. Forget Karatos’s plans to possess Noah. Noah wanted to possess me.

And I wasn’t certain I wanted to stop him.

At exactly 2:15 A.M., I slipped out from beneath the warm, heavy weight of Noah’s arm, drew on my robe, and tiptoed downstairs. I didn’t have to worry about finding my way as ambient light from the neighborhood did that for me. Noah obviously wasn’t a big fan of curtains because there weren’t any in the entire apartment. There were windows everywhere, but in his bedroom the windows were on the west wall only. No morning sun to wake him up, but plenty of twinkling lights to lull him to sleep.

He was snoring softly as I padded across the living room to the kitchen. It was either there or the studio to use for portal casting, and since I was thirsty, the kitchen seemed the best bet. I took a bottle of water from the fridge, drank half of it, and set my mind to opening a gate to The Dreaming.

Slowly, I breached the walkway between my two worlds. The familiar sliver of light formed and hovered before me, and I peeled it open until it was large enough to step through. I walked into my father’s study. It was his power that brought me there, not mine.

Mine wasn’t focused enough to pinpoint a particular spot just yet. However, I had no doubt that I could close this portal and open another and still end up in the same spot because that’s where Morpheus had decided I would go.

I suppose it was safer that way, but it also gave him entirely too much control over my movements.

“Hello, Dawn.”

The sound of my mother’s voice damn near broke my heart. How long was it going to be like this? How long was I going to alternate between loving her and hating her like I did?

“Hi,” I replied. “Morpheus around?”

Her youthful face held an expression of hopefulness, an eagerness that I hated being the cause of. “He’s out with the Guard, but I expect he’ll be here shortly now that you’ve arrived. Tea?”

I shrugged. Why did she keep trying to win me over? “Sure.” I closed my portal before joining her at the little table near the fireplace. A china teapot and matching cups and saucers sat on a tray in the center, along with a plate of little sandwiches. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of it, especially when I saw the pile of fat, spiced sugar cookies on the side.

“It looks just like Nan’s,” I remarked. My grandmother had insisted upon tea every day at exactly the same time, and she always had little sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Sometimes they were cucumber or egg. Sometimes salmon or chicken. I liked being there for tea on any day except for salmon. I still didn’t like the canned stuff.

But my mouth watered at the thought of those cookies. I hadn’t had them in years.

My mother smiled, too, as she sat down. “I even have sugar cubes.”

Nan always used cubes at tea. She had the little tongs for them and she would let me plop the cubes into her cup for her, just because I liked playing with those little silver tongs.

Other books

Feeling the Vibes by Annie Dalton
In Another Life by E. E. Montgomery
Bubble Troubles by Colleen Madden
Avalon by Seton, Anya
The Final Page of Baker Street by Daniel D. Victor
A Twist of Fate by Joanna Rees
How Do I Love Thee? by Nancy Moser
Suspect by Michael Robotham