Page 6 of Dream Lost (The Fae Universe #12)

6

B ridget had nervous sweat pooling at the base of her spine. She put in her order for a coffee and didn’t have time to object when Bas paid for it. She was too shell-shocked by the encounter with Marge and how she knew him and his family. The Greatdrakes .

Fuck. She knew who he was now and why he had seemed familiar. The Greatdrakes were an intermarried family with the fae royals. Not to mention, Marge had real magic, and they both seemed to think Bridget did too.

“You look like you’re about to freak out on me,” Bas said, sitting down opposite her. They were tucked into a quiet corner where the other customers wouldn’t overhear them. He sighed. “It’s the family thing, right? What is it? You hate the fae?”

“The fae saved my life, so no, I don’t hate them,” Bridget replied. She shrugged out of her leather jacket to try and slow down her sweating. Had she put deodorant on that day? She couldn’t remember.

Bas’s dark brows rose. “Sounds like there’s a story.”

“There is, but you haven’t earned it yet.”

“Fair enough,” he said and smiled at her, his eyes doing their crazy sparkle at her.

Bridget ate one of her warm beer battered chips. “You’re weirdly accepting of that. Most people would push.”

“Most people aren’t as patient as I am. I told you I was willing to earn your trust, and I meant it.”

She couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”

He was a person who traveled in circles most people could only dream about. Circles with royal fae so ancient that humans thought they were gods.

Bas leaned his arms against the table. “Because I want to be your friend. Do you know how rare people like us are?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“People who can actually walk the astral plane and can create things in it. You have magic, Bridget. You know that, right?”

Bridget pulled a face. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m a wizard?”

“You’re not a wizard, but you are definitely a magician,” Bas replied, utterly serious. “I don’t have a letter for Hogwarts for you, but I do have an invitation to the Greatdrakes mansion, which is arguably better because it’s real, and we believe in trans rights.”

Bridget ate some more of her chips because she felt like she needed a week to process the last half hour of her life. Only carbs could save her now.

“I don’t know what to make of any of this,” she admitted.

“I know,” Bas replied, his tone gentle. “It is the truth, though. I’m not spinning some crap story to try and get in your pants, either. The details of your mind palace library, the fact you can create a pocket dimension in the astral, the way you can shift into a hawk there… I’ve only known one other magician that could do that.”

“And who’s that?” she asked.

Bas shrugged. “Me.”

Bridget chewed her lip, thinking back to all the questions she had from her day of researching. “What else can you do?”

“Give me one of those chips, and I will tell you,” Bas replied. It was the grin that made her give in and pass him one. Damn, he was gorgeous. The crazy ones were always hot.

Bas made a point of eating the chip before answering her question. “My magic is multi-disciplinary mind magic. Astral projection, telekinesis, telepathy, dream walking…”

“Woah, telepathy?” Bridget asked.

Telepathy was one of the first abilities I had, he replied straight into her head.

Bridget jolted and pulled up a mental brick wall. Bas leaned back in his chair and laughed.

“Oh, yeah, you’re definitely a magician. You barely had to think about putting that mental shield up. Which begs the question of why you have no wards set up about your little library dimension in the astral,” he said, still smiling.

Bridget looked at her fish and chips. “I don’t know how. I didn’t even know what I was doing with my mental library was anything unique. Or that it was in the astral at all.”

“I can teach you some things if you want to learn. As I said, you’re the only person I’ve met who can manipulate the astral like me.”

Bridget looked up. “Really? Aren’t you like the fae royal family or some shit? The fae would have heaps of magical people.”

“I’ve met a few who can dream walk like my Auntie Quinn and others who have telepathy. None of them have been able to walk in the astral like you. It’s why I wanted to find you so much.” Red tinged his cheeks, and Bridget felt her hard insides soften. Just a little.

“How did you find yourself in the astral anyway?” he asked.

“I had…a bad childhood. I learned how to dissociate early on. And let’s leave it at that,” she said. She couldn’t deal with possible magic and talking about her past all in one date. Not that it was a date. She didn’t think. Was it?

“I’m sorry to hear that about your childhood,” Bas replied. He sounded genuine and didn’t do anything like try to take her hand. She really hated it when people did that. “I understand, though. Trauma made me reach the astral the first time too.”

Bridget studied his face, searching for a lie that wasn’t there. “Really?”

“Yeah. And I don’t want to talk about it either.”

She nodded. “Fair.”

Bas got up and went to talk to one of the barristers and came back with a borrowed pen. “I’m going to sketch you a sigil that you can draw under your bed. It will act as a ward until you learn how to create your own.”

Bridget watched as he began to scribble on a napkin. She leaned over the table, fascinated. He had good hands, she couldn’t help but notice.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked.

“That shadow creature we saw in the library is dangerous. I chased it off, but I know it will be back. I don’t know what it is, but I know it wanted to feed off your consciousness,” Bas said, his hands not stopping his sketching. “You are exposed to it, and worse, and I’ll sleep better at night knowing you have some protection.”

Bridget pulled at the sleeve cuff of her shirt. “Why do you care? You don’t know me.”

“But I want to, and I can only do that if you’re alive,” Bas replied. “You are unique. I like that. Most people aren’t.”

“Do you…” Bridget struggled, not knowing how to say what she wanted to without it coming out horrible. “Do you find normal people hard? Being around them and stuff?”

“Yeah, I do. I play the game, wear the mask, but I know they won’t ever really get me. I don’t understand them either, if I am being honest.” Bas looked up from the design on the napkin. “It helps if they have magic and understand how weird it can be. I was raised with magicians, so I am lucky that way, but it’s hard to explain to anyone what we are— who we are—when we spend so much of our lives in our heads, looking at worlds no one else will ever be able to see.”

Bridget nodded, her heart hurting. That was exactly the feeling she always had too. She was nervous, but she forced it down. “I need to process all of this. I think you can understand that?”

“I do. That’s why I’m not going to explain what this sigil does, just give it to you,” Bas replied and put it on the table between them. Giving her the choice of whether or not to take it.

“I’m overwhelmed, but I think I would like to be your friend,” she said in a rush, not meeting his eye. If she did, she would lock up and push him away because that’s what she always did.

“In that case,” Bas said, pulling the napkin back and scribbling on it. “That’s for you too.”

Bridget took the napkin from him when he offered it, the tips of her fingers touching his. His phone number was written underneath the sigil.

“Thank you for this. Especially after I was so defensive and threw a book at you in the astral,” she said, carefully folding the napkin and putting it in her pocket.

“Don’t worry about it. I want to be your friend too,” Bas said and then looked at his watch. “Well, I’ve hit my three-hour ‘being around people’ limit, so I’ll be off.”

“Yeah, I need to go lie on my floor and stare at my roof for the rest of the night,” Bridget replied and laughed even though she wasn’t joking.

“There’s nothing that a good lie on the floor can’t fix.” Bas wasn’t joking either.

Is this what they mean by the perfect man? Bridget couldn’t help but wonder.

Bas opened the door of the coffee shop for her again, and Bridget paused in front of the bookstore.

“It was nice meeting you…outside the astral I mean,” she said, smiling a little and hoping she didn’t look deranged.

There was a buzz in the air, a pause, like she wasn’t sure if she should kiss him good night or not. They both felt it because Bas was staring and hesitating as much as she was. The wind off the river blew hair in her face, and Bas’s eyes tracked her hand as she brushed it back. His eyes weren’t just their twinkling blue anymore. They were glowing . Was that magic too?

Bas quickly looked away and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Sweet dreams, Hawk Girl,” he said, walking away.

“You too…Bas.” Bridget stared after him, her chest doing a strange, tightening squeeze that didn’t loosen until he was out of sight.

When Bridget returned to the shop, Marge stood in the open doorway. “Now, that, my girl, is a man ,” she stated.

Yes, yes, he was, Bridget thought and suddenly regretted not kissing him after all.