Page 11 of Sweet Dreams

“Traum,” I corrected, smiling at Joe as he placed the two to-go cups in front of me.

“Oh, yes, sorry. Traum. And then, Bailey is the pretty blonde,” Kenneth continued, “Don’t you find it strange that they got here, talking so big about buying up the empty places in town, getting a whole organization off the ground in weeks? And don’t even get me started on the brother.”

“The brother? He has a brother?”

Something tugged at my subconscious, a white smile and strong hands against my hips. I shivered.

Kenneth’s eyes widened, eagerness seeping from his every pore. “That’s the thing. He’s been here two weeks and, basically, no one knows anything. He doesn’t seem to exist outside of their house. Mysterious huh?”

Joe dropped a small box with a blueberry muffin in between us, breaking up the conversation. “Well, I think you’re just looking for a distraction from work, Kenny. Traum and Bailey have been nothing but kind, and if their brother is shy, then he’s shy. He’ll come out of his shell, eventually.”

Kenneth narrowed his eyes but shrugged after a long moment. I smiled, sensing that I was suddenly a third wheel.

“I should be getting back,” I stood, reaching for the still steaming cups. “Thank you Joe. Kenneth, good to see you.”

“Come back around soon, Lulu,” Kenneth said, also standing, “And send your best to your grandpa, I know the Times has been having a rough go of it this year.”

I tried not to flinch as his words settled on my skin. Because I had no idea what he was talking about. I’d only been back a few weeks, but the paper–it was in trouble?

“Yeah, of course.” I choked out, pretending that I was just double checking the cups.

“Don’t forget the muffin, Magoo,” Joe shouted from behind the counter. “That’s for Lennon.”

Carefully, heart still hammering with anxiety, I picked up the box.

I needed to talk to my grandfather.

Now.

***

Zaldi

“If you keep sitting around here all day I’m going to get you a desk and put you to work,” Traum quipped, brushing past my legs as he made his way across the reception area of the ETA. I grunted at him, torn between begging my brother to follow through with his threat or giving in and telling him that I didn’t even know why I was still in the living world.

Lord Arafel, the King of the Dream realm and regent over the incubi and succubi people of the Underworld, had not sent me here to Salus Glen. Did my brother know that? Nope. I had been sent into the living world plenty of times on the demon’s bequest, but this time, the night I had first seen Lulu, I had just appeared at the edge of Salus Glen.

I wasn’t sure how to even begin that conversation. The night it had happened, I’d ran to Traum and Bailey’s house, blurting out that not only did I see a human woman whose dreams I’d been featured in, but that she’d seen me too.

The rest of that night had been a blur of Traum questioning me, then Bailey waking up after hearing us in the living room and setting me up on the couch in said living room of their new home here in Salus. I’d spent the entire night waiting for Arafel to either appear and drag me back where I belonged, or Lucifer himself to smite me from my position on the sectional.

But, neither happened.

And now, weeks later, I was simply existing here. The terror had worn off quickly, curiosity taking its place in a matter of days.

Because she’d seen me, hells, I’d basically tackled her, yet my human glamour only showed her exactly what would be normal for the living world. But, if she’d seen the real me, would she have recognized me from before? Would she have been happy to see me?

After all, it had been years since the last time she’d called me to her. And long before I had realized what exactly she meant to me.

Three years ago

I hated this part. Which basically meant that against all odds, my family had produced an incubus who hated dream walking. It was strange, the swell of knowledge that inundated you once you stepped into a dreamer’s mind. And even more abrasive were the thoughts that would nearly immediately swing towards sexuality and various fantasies. That was on me. Just being in their dreams caused that shift. But, unlike my family and my brethren, it made me ridiculously uncomfortable.

Perhaps that’s why I’d been spending more and more time away from home and the pressure to produce power from these fantasy induced hallucinations.

Because I hated pulling the power from these sleeping souls.

I hated the way that it felt like I was stealing something from them. It didn’t matter to my brain that incubi and succubi had been doing this for generations.