Tangible (Dreamwalker) (9 page)

She crossed her arms over her breasts. Her nipples were probably rigid. What color were they? How did they taste?

Maggie wasn’t Karen. She was sane. Stable. Smart. He wanted her so much. His desire wasn’t real but felt overwhelming. The need to connect with her in all the ways he could was intense.

And here she was—in bed with him, needing him too.

“Zeke?”

His hands found her unerringly in the dark. Her hips. Her waist. A soft, generous breast, the nipple tight. “God. Maggie. I want—”

She squeaked and jumped out of bed, the blankets falling off them both. Her feet thudded as she stumbled. “I’m putting on the PJs.”

“Good idea. I’m gonna grab a shower.” An icy, private shower.

She stifled something that might have been a moan and might have been a laugh.

“Whatever you do,” he said tightly, “do not lay down till I come back. You could pass out. I won’t be long.” As horny as he was, he’d be back to bed within five minutes tops. He just hoped masturbating once was enough.

For now.

Obviously this would need to be a nightly ritual for him.

“Okay,” she agreed from the opposite side of the room. And as he handled himself in the shower—cursing and aching for her, braced against the icy tile— he imagined she might need a nightly ritual too.

Her hand between her legs. His name on her lips.

He was back in her room within two minutes, shivering, his cock sated somewhat. Neither he nor Maggie spoke as she lifted the covers for him, slid her body next to his, and twined her fingers through his own.

The dreamsphere—this had to be the dreamsphere—was a spooky, soul-sucking void. Maggie blinked and was surprised her eyelids cooperated. In every direction, she could see nothing but grey shimmers and distorted black wisps, like being under a giant, colorless ocean without sun. Without end. Her feet balanced on nothing—no solidity beneath her toes. She could see her body, dressed in pajamas, the tints of her skin and clothing muted. This was nothing like the nightmares where she’d been chased and killed by vampires.

Yet this dream seemed real. Tactile. If only there was something to touch. The only things she could feel were her own movements. No temperature, no smells, no sounds, no sensations.

She tried to take a step and found herself restrained by something at the end of one arm. What was going on? She couldn’t see anything, but...

There. A quiet, creeping warmth, as if her cells were being tugged lightly by a magnet. It wasn’t painful and it felt like safety. It felt like him.

Her lips moved. She heard her voice as if she were in a vast echo chamber. “Zeke? Is that you?”

The sound bounced, returning to her ears again and again until she was tempted to duck. The grey around her rippled. After a moment the noise, and the ripples, faded.

Zeke formed in front of her, shirtless and holding her hand. He was semi-translucent, his colors washed out like hers, but distinct from the rest of the dreamsphere.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
His lips didn’t move, but it was his voice.

How had he spoken without talking? Ventriloquy was an odd skill for a scrapper like Zeke.

She tried whispering. “So our link is working? We’re doing what we’re supposed to?”

This time the resultant echoes didn’t hurt her ears, but the grey around them swirled with trailers of shimmer and black.

“You see me, I see you. We’re touching and talking. Connection established,”
he said with some satisfaction. “
Can you feel this?”

His grip tightened on her hand. It wasn’t the same as in the real world, but the constriction was noticeable.

“You’re squeezing my hand,”
she whispered, trying not to move her lips.

He raised his other hand to her face, placing a finger on her mouth. “
Don’t say the words. Think ’em. Sound attracts the wraiths.”

She tried it. “
How’s this?”

“Better.”
Zeke glided away, their hands clasped. She followed, her eyes trained on her feet. The black and grey beneath her undulated with every step, giving her a touch of vertigo. Streamers flowed past their sides.

“Now I’ll tag you. That will let any alucinators who come into contact with you in the dreamsphere recognize your signature.”

“What will that...”
she began, cutting herself off when heat suffused her. Hot air blew through her—starting at her feet as if she were standing on a huge vent. As suddenly as it whipped up, it was gone.

“Guess I remember a thing or two about mentoring after all,”
Zeke said. “
Next I’ll teach you to move around. Orient yourself. Avoid wraiths.”

She glanced around nervously, seeing nothing in the dreamsphere indicative of monsters. “
Where are they?”

“Everywhere.”
He tugged her toward him and linked their arms. Still no sensations on her bare feet, though she could feel the warmth of his skin. “
However, they won’t find us while I’m blocking
,” he finished.

“Blocking. I assume that’s a term for a security measure?”
If she quit using her legs and concentrated on drifting alongside Zeke, the disconcerting undulations beneath them subsided.

"Yeah, a mental shield. I’ll teach you how after you master movement and control,”
he promised. “
For now, protecting us is my job. I can shield us as long as we’re touching outside the dreamsphere. After a couple weeks, the touching won’t be necessary because we’ll have internalized one another’s signatures.”

Zeke continued to lecture her on the dreamsphere, about how actions were thought-centered during sleeping access. He gave her time to become accustomed to one movement before testing her on another—on projecting her brainwaves, he called it. He warned her not to stray far from where she entered if she could help it.

“The dreamsphere has a spatial relationship to the terra firma, though it’s not an exact ratio,”
he said. “
That’s how we can track down manifestations.”

Maggie soon found that her curiosity overrode her nervousness. Zeke seemed pleased that she asked questions instead of argued, even when he told her things her rational brain denied. While her knowledge of the geophysical sciences hardly encompassed alternate dimensions, she’d given herself permission to quit striving for logic and learn everything Zeke and the others could teach her.

There was no denying this was really happening to her. Not unless this whole experience was a dream within a dream, and she was in a coma somewhere.

After what felt like hours, Zeke halted and asked, “
Can you tell where your conduit is? The place you came in?”

She stared into the grey. One way, another way. Back where she assumed they’d come from. Alas, no giant, blinking arrows pointed her to the exit. When she concentrated, all she could feel was Zeke’s magnetism.

“No,”
she answered.

“You can leave the dreamsphere from wherever you need to once you know what you’re doing, but it’s best to use your conduit. Leaving the way you came in shuts the door behind you and doesn’t cause psychic pain. You sure you can’t sense anything?”

She pushed away from him until only their fingertips linked. “
All I feel is you.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “
Flattering but not useful.”

“I’m not trying to flatter you.”
Should she think about rolling her eyes or do it physically? “
I literally don’t feel anything else.”

“We’ve been in here a while. That’s strange.”

“How strange?”
She floated back to his side and laced her arm through his. She didn’t want to be strange. She wanted everything to go like normal so she could be cured.

“Nothing we can’t handle,”
he told her. “
Let’s continue with standard first session protocol. I’m gonna drop the block for a second so you can feel the wraiths. That may hone your senses.”

“I don’t want to feel the wraiths,”
she said.

“I won’t let ’em hurt you.”
He drew her against him. “
You need to know what to expect. Compare your surroundings before I lower the shield and after the shield is gone.”

The shelter of his arms did a lot to calm her. The extended time in this dead atmosphere was beginning to eat at her nerves, like someone had stuffed cotton in her ears and placed a blindfold over her eyes.

“Here goes,”
he said. “
Pay attention. Note the differences.”

Nothing happened for a minute. Then hell broke loose.

Not all hell, perhaps, but a lot of it.

Faces, bodies, monsters, flashed around them. Screams so high she wasn’t sure she actually heard them, growls so deep they thundered at her from every direction. They tickled her soles; they raised her hackles. The dark nothing and its shimmers and wisps coalesced into dreadful forms and figures. Everywhere she looked another nightmare menaced her. Raged at her. Came for her.

In her experience, once the monsters caught her, she would dream-die in great pain and agony.

She tried to be brave. She always woke physically unscathed, but it was going to hurt. It always hurt. And the rules had changed. This was the true dreamsphere, not the shadow of it.

Could she and Zeke die?

A huge, translucent creature that resembled a dinosaur flew at them like a freight train.

Maggie screamed and grabbed Zeke. The wraith smashed into them, as did its odor. Nauseating rot surrounded her and was just as quickly gone. The dreamsphere returned to blandness.

Maggie swallowed down a retch. Zeke had explained that some actions bled through to the terra firma. Was barfing one of them?

“You’ve got some brain, Maggie, conjuring monsters like that.”
Zeke didn’t sound as confident as he had a minute ago.

“That doesn’t sound like a compliment,”
she managed, grateful she could think the words rather than having to unlock her jaw to say them. When she checked his face, he looked pale.

“It’s not. It’s a fact,”
he said.
“I have to drop the shield again
.
Analyze the dreamsphere. Get used to it. You can’t let fear overwhelm you. That’s how they latch onto you.”

She sighed, which rippled in tiny sound waves around her head. “
I figured they used their claws for that.”

“Try not to smell,”
he advised. “
Or scream.”

He lowered the shield again.

Wraiths solidified nearby. Vampires this time. Evil, hungry and familiar. They hissed. She had a quick impression of claws and fangs before the monsters swarmed.

Again, the stench enveloped her like exhaust fumes from a transfer trailer. It didn’t dissipate. Maggie found herself bent over, heaving, before she could take a third breath.

“Shit
,” Zeke cursed. He didn’t sound so hale, either.

Maggie didn’t throw up. It just felt like it. Her stomach muscles protested. Zeke did something she could sense through the connection that allowed them to speak mind-to-mind. Reinstating the shield?

Thank goodness, he was. The dreamsphere returned to its original form, grey, faceless and swirly.

When the smell disappeared, he helped her straighten. Her abdomen ached.

“This is not fun, Zeke.”

“It’s not wonderful,”
he agreed. “
Man. They definitely know your signature.”

She leaned on his shoulder, closing her eyes so she couldn’t see the void and wonder what was waiting to attack.

“Did I just puke on myself in bed?”
she asked miserably.

“I hope not, since I’m right beside you.”
He jostled her in a quick hug, his arm around her like it had been this whole time, a constant, reassuring weight.

“Is this normal?”

“Yes and no. It’s intense because it’s your third time here and you may not be L4. You’re probably L5.”
His dismay, though he attempted to be nonchalant, was as oppressive as the wraiths.

She wanted to ask about the distinction between L4 and L5, but he held her apart from him, his warm hands on her upper arms. “
You think this is bad, wait till you come here awake. Tranced, we call it. The unconscious brain misses half of what’s up here. Granted, being conscious means you can accomplish more, but it’s rough.”

She shuddered. “
No thanks.”

“It’ll be a while yet before we throw that at you,”
he agreed.
“Try to sense your conduit. It has your signature. It won’t feel like me and it won’t feel like the wraiths.”

Maggie took a few deep breaths. A lingering foulness made her regret that decision, so she imagined herself inhaling instead of physically doing it.

It did seem to calm her. Her stomach went back to quiescent. She ignored Zeke’s magnetism and tried to discern what else was out there.

Monsters, yes. She could sense them now. Their essence was hunger—a relentless, sharp drag. She ignored them too and let her eyes lose focus as she stared into the dreamsphere.