Page 36 of Witchblood
“Fantasies of things I’ll never be.” Submissive and dependent. Never again.
“I dream of small things,” Liam said. He kissed me gently on the forehead. “Like holding you while you sleep. That dream has come true already. I hope to repeat it over and over again. I also dream of having tea with you. Of waking up every morning to see your face. I dream of running with you, my wolf and your fox. Chasing each other playfully through trees and brush until we change back to human and make love under the moon. You’ve already given me more peace than I’ve ever experienced in my life. My wolf is no longer raging for control. He sees you and saysmine. I agree.Ours.Even if it just means arguing with you over whether you’ll eat properly or not.”
His words gobsmacked me. His words, his sincerity, and his amazing eyes that looked gray in the pale light. “I worry thatI’mdreaming this and still stuck with Hugo while he drains me dry.” Hugo had a gift for dreams, making them seem so real, like that movie with the goblin king I grew up watching on repeat.
Anger flashed across Liam’s face, but he didn’t pull away. “I need to find this Hugo. Have atalkwith him.”
“Apadoesn’t like the wolves fighting with the vampires. Too many opportunities for norms to catch something on camera these days.” I tried to pull away, and he let me, only to trail closely behind as I made my way out the door. “He meant nothing to me. Just a bump in the road.”
“Another past to run from.”
“Well yeah. You don’t stick around vampires. They kill you.” I waved a hand at the room around us. “If I’m dreaming all this, he’s killing me slowly. Can take years sometimes, from what I’ve heard.” But dreaming of Liam for a few years as I died under a vampire’s fangs didn’t sound so bad.
“What can I do to make you believe this is real?” Liam asked.
I didn’t really know how to answer that. Him kicking me to the curb or betraying me to Felix would feel more real than all the happy, touchy-feely stuff. “I don’t know.”
He gripped my hand. “I don’t feel real? My touch? My kiss?” He yanked me back into his embrace. “My scent?” Liam bent to capture my lips and I let him, closing my eyes to delve into the warmth of him. “My taste?” He asked when we came up for air. He tasted like the muffins I’d baked. “Could the vampire fake all of that?”
Had he? I thought back to the memories Hugo had strung out for me. His power, or perhaps just his knowledge or lack thereof, of my herbs had been what had clued me into the dream last time. One of the tea brews had been wrong, the smell and the taste, though I knew I’d made it with the right herbs. Other things had smells and tastes, textures, and emotions. It had been so real. Just that little blip, like a Matrix de ja vu, had alerted me to the mind trap.
Was there anything off here?
Robin.
But how would Hugo know about Robin? All the dreams I’d had under his care had been about Felix. No instance of Robin. That was something I should have noticed at the time. Likely Robin had some sort of magic to keep others from pulling information about him out of me. Okay. So other than Robin being out of place?
Liam sighed deeply, pulling away again, but keeping my hand as he tugged me out the door. “Time. I have to keep reminding myself,” he said as we stepped back out into the sunshine. “I’m more impatient than I thought I’d be now that you’re here.”
“I’m sorry,” I apologized immediately. Habit from years of trying to please the unpleasable. “If this was a dream I’d probably be less suspicious, but maybe Hugo caught onto that too.”
“Where was this Hugo again?”
“Chicago.”
“Hmm.”
We walked toward The Sweet Tooth, hand in hand. No one stared or commented and I wasn’t eager to pull away. His touch was warm and soothing. If others didn’t know, they would soon. Gossip traveled fast in small towns. Yet Liam made no move to create distance between us.
“What colors would you prefer if the space was yours?”
“Huh?” I asked, lost in savoring his touch and not thinking about his words.
“For the shop next to the bakery. You said it’s bland. What colors would you have chosen?”
“Depends on what the space is used for. Cool tones for a tea shop, I think. A soft green or even a blue/green like the ocean on a spring day. Warmer ones for a bakery. Dark for a bar.”
“Cool tones.” Liam nodded. “Tell me about Robin.”
“Not my story to tell.”
“I think it is. Fae are dangerous.”
But I’d been dancing the edge of that danger with Robin for awhile. I knew how to be careful because Robin had taught me by being patient when I’d been young and stupid. A thousand times he could have trapped me for saying or doing the wrong thing, only he’d only ever clucked and offered wisdom instead. “I’m safe with Robin.”
“A puck…”
I squeezed Liam’s hand. He was more observant than I thought he’d been if he’d devised that much about Robin after only meeting him once. “He’s like family to me.”