A Tale of Two Goblins

chapter Six



It had been three days that I’d been awake and I’d lost count of how many cups of coffee I’d downed. Even though I’d managed not to fall asleep, I was in a haze—events and days just blending into one lump of time that felt nebulous and indescribable. I stared out the window of my kitchen, not focusing on anything but the black of the night and the way the moonlight danced between the tree branches, rays of light breaking the homogeneity of night.

Sometime during the past three days, I’d managed to visit Sam but each visit yielded the same return—she was still in a coma, hanging onto life and the constant beeping of the monitors still played with my sanity. It had been earlier today that I’d made my customary rounds to Sam’s bedside but the constant hum of life support had acted like the droning of Morpheus, the God of Sleep. I’d nearly collapsed into slumber right on top of Sam and that was when I knew I needed to get out of there, and better still, I needed more coffee, lots more.

I’d also asked Dia to make inquiries to the other somnogobelinae with whom she was familiar, just to ensure her “Dreamstalker radar” wasn’t on the mend. After Dia agreed, albeit none too happily, she announced that her radar was in top performing condition because all her sleep goblin cohorts said they hadn’t been alerted to the creation of any new Dreamstalkers which basically left me right where I’d started.

Knight had been keeping Trey and the other ANC Splendor staff busy with in-depth research into the lives of Druiva and Trafu, the Dreamstalkers in custody at Banshee Prison. They were searching all records, looking for any clues as to relationships that could have yielded progeny. And we’d come up with gaping holes there too—Trafu had been in Netherworld custody for hundreds of years. And I’d learned a little tidbit that hadn’t been pretty—apparently when Netherworld creatures didn’t exercise their libidos, their genitalia did shrivel up and fall off. And, yes, Knight had had a field day with that one—telling me if I truly valued him as a friend and partner, I’d ensure the safety of his male equipment. I’d just told him there were plenty of women who’d be up for the job.

So, Trafu was basically a eunuch and had been for over one hundred years which left Druiva... After much investigation into his roots, we did learn that Druiva had entertained many lovers during his time as a free somnogobelinus but what we hadn’t been counting on was the fact that all of those lovers had been male, obliterating any chance for Druiva juniors.

Yep, I was back to square one. I’d had three days of no sleep and nothing to show for it. The clock had been ticking and urgency had been boiling up within me until it was now overflowing into a broth of panic.

I grabbed the handle of Mr. Coffee and poured myself my nth cup, turning to refill it and start another brew. I brought the mug to my lips and had to force down the sudden overwhelming desire to throw up. My body needed sleep badly—it was as obvious as the fact that I had to force the coffee down my throat, in my feeble effort to compel my body into submission. Gagging, I swallowed four mouthfuls and walked to my desk, needing something to occupy my mind.

I opened the email from Barbara Mandley of Great Fiction Agency and read it again, trying to drum up some excitement about the fact that someone actually liked my book and, from the way it sounded, maybe was going to offer me representation. But, excitement had abandoned me at least two days ago. Now I was like a car coasting on empty, with only a few whiffs of gasoline to keep my engine from dying.

I opened the word document I’d saved as “Book Two Titles” and read through the list of four titles I was proposing for my second book in the Bram “Vampire and a Gentleman” series.

4. Speak vamp to me

5. A Bloodsucker named Raven

6. Vampires don’t leave hickies

7. Don’t invite a vampire in

It was like I was reading the work of someone else. I couldn’t even remember coming up with the titles. And I had to just shake my head in total bewilderment at “Vampires don’t leave hickies.” Hello? What in the hell had I been thinking with that one?

I stared at the blinking cursor and wracked my mind, trying to drum up new titles but each time I attempted to get the creative juices flowing, all I could think about was more coffee and then the feelings of nausea weren’t far behind. After a few more minutes of strenuous thinking and even more strenuous gagging, I figured it was fair to admit that nothing creative was going to happen tonight…today…whatever.

The little black cursor continued to blink, as if announcing it wasn’t going to give up, that there was a creative bone in my body somewhere—that my blood hadn’t turned to coffee within my veins. I continued staring at it until it appeared to be getting larger and the blinking more pronounced, more anxious. I could feel myself moving closer to it. My elbows touched the top of the desk and before I knew it, my head was resting on my forearm. The need to close my eyes was pounding through my body—a command coming from Hades only knew where. The desire to see the velvety black of my eyelids was overwhelming, almost as strong as the constant stinging sensation that had been plaguing my eyes for the last two days…and nights. If I just closed my eyes and rested them for a second or two, I’d feel better. I’d still be in control of myself…

#

I opened my eyes and lifted my head off the desk. I’d fallen asleep—who knew for how long. I was suddenly frightened and angry with myself. I’d been incredibly lucky that the Dreamstalker hadn’t realized I was immobilized by sleep and his for the taking. Stupid, I’d been so stupid. I stood up, angst pounding through me and walked my cold cup of coffee to the sink, promptly pouring myself another. I threw my head back and emptied the lukewarm liquid into my mouth, squelching the urge to gag. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve.

The sudden compulsion to go check on Sam almost blindsided me and before I could even register what I was doing, I had my keys in my hand and I was headed down to the Wrangler which was parked just outside. I glanced up at the dark night sky and even though the thought crossed my mind that visitor’s hours were well over, my feet didn’t slow down.

Before I knew it, I’d unlocked the door and was seated behind the wheel, my hand already turning the keys in the ignition. I put the car into drive and started down the street. The streetlights reflected through my windows and I shielded my eyes against the glare. The momentary thought that I hadn’t buckled up crossed my mind but I couldn’t focus on it. I arrived at the stop sign at the end of the street and had no memory of getting there. All I knew was that the hospital was to the right but for some reason, I turned to the left.

I couldn’t even really grasp the fact that before setting foot into the car, I’d planned to visit Sam at the hospital yet now I was headed for the highway leading out of Splendor and into the BFE district of Charity which was home to a herd of cows and endless miles of lush farmland.

I attempted to turn the Wrangler around, even issued the command to my arms, but the wheel appeared to be stuck or maybe somewhere in my subconscious I really wanted to visit Charity because my body seemed to be in complete opposition to my mind. I continued along Highway Five toward mile after mile of white fences and rolling hills, farther and farther from the hospital.

The radio suddenly flickered on and my heartbeat increased tenfold as I wondered how in the hell that was even possible. There was static for a moment and I watched the screen as it rolled through FM station after FM station. Finally it settled on something that sounded like fifties music. I wanted to turn the sound down but my hands were plastered to the steering wheel so the music continued to pour out of the speakers. I could practically see Patsy Cline in her poodle skirt and saddle shoes as she wailed into the microphone, “I Go Out Walking After Midnight.”

My brain began to protest the fact that my body had a mind of its own and was now holding me hostage. I glanced out at the night sky, realizing it was getting darker, the street lights no longer lighting my way as I entered the border of Charity. Sure enough, dark outlines of cows on the hillsides pointed to the fact that I’d just arrived in no man’s land.

Lights from behind me suddenly filled the Wrangler and I depressed the accelerator, hoping the person would pass me. I didn’t even have the chance to marvel at the fact that my body had carried out my mind’s wishes because it was suddenly apparent that the person behind me wasn’t going to pass. Instead, the car pulled up right behind me, close—as in bumpers kissing close. The headlights of the car illuminated the inside of the Wrangler and made it exceedingly difficult to see the road before me. I yanked the wheel to the right, pulling over to the side of the road and hoped the person would get the clue that I didn’t appreciate being tailed.

The car veered to the left of the Wrangler and just when I thought it was going to pass, it pulled alongside me until we were neck and neck. I couldn’t help the feeling of panic wending its way up my throat until I felt like I was going to throw up again. I glanced over and could see nothing but darkness emanating from within the car. It was so dark, I couldn’t even tell if there was a person in it. I shook my head at the absurdity of that thought—of course there was someone in it—it couldn’t just drive itself.

The fifties music continued to pour out of my speakers and the melody acted like a fire burning away at my sanity. The car beside me suddenly lunged to a stop and pulled up behind me again, flooding my car with its headlights. I wanted nothing more than to stop but my body seemed to have taken on a mind of its own again and I’d pulled back into the street and pressed the accelerator down until I was going ten miles over the speed limit. The car behind me revved its engine and kept pace.

I watched as my foot pressed the accelerator harder and the speedometer began to climb from forty five to fifty five to sixty five. I passed a white sign proclaiming the speed limit to be thirty five and somewhere deep inside me concern blossomed—this was a country road, windy and dangerous for extreme speeds. I glanced back at the speed gauge and watched in horror as it hit seventy five.

The car behind me pulled alongside me again and then suddenly sped up, passing me instantly. It veered into the lane ahead of me and before I could respond, the red of its brake lights suddenly interrupted my vision. The sound of the Wrangler crashing into the car shattered my thoughts, the melody of the fifties music still in the background. I suddenly felt myself flying forward and the explosion of glass was thick in my ears as I felt my chest smash into the steering wheel. Then before I could even gasp, the Wrangler was airborne.

I glanced down at my clenched palm and realized I’d shaken a mound of fairy dust somewhere along the way. I tossed it in the air, imagining a thick, insulating bubble surrounding me. The feel of rubber was thick against my cheek as I crashed through the passenger window and felt myself smash against the pavement.

#

“Girl, you really did a number on yourself.”

I tried to open my eyes. It was that damned beeping monitor again—thick in my ears. “Can someone turn that f*cking thing off?” I demanded and my voice was so gravelly, I barely recognized it as my own.

“Ah, Dulcie is back.” It was Trey. There was relief in his voice.

I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was a ceiling with individual white squares and fluorescent lights glaring down at me. I turned my neck and saw Dia and Trey gazing over me, both smiling. My neck hurt. I turned the other way and found Knight right beside me.

“Where the hell am I?” I insisted, even though it was becoming pretty crystal clear based on the crappy ceiling and the constant beeping.

“You’re in the hospital,” Knight answered with eyes that were smiling, relieved and happy. He grinned down at me and for as crappy as I’m sure I looked, he looked beautiful. I shook my head against the injustice of it all. Knight was like temptation wrapped in a pretty red bow and dropped on my doorstep from Hades, the King of all a*sholes.

“You were in a car accident,” Trey said, his voice thick with tears. “But, they say you’re going to be ok.”

I closed my eyes, realizing what this meant. “I let him get to me, didn’t I?” I asked, glancing at Knight again. He didn’t answer but squeezed my hand as if to say none of that mattered now, what did matter was that I survived. But, while it might not have mattered to him, it mattered a hell of a lot to me. The Dreamstalker had won again. Dammit! I’d sworn to take him down but all it had taken was three days of no sleep and I’d failed. Again.

“Yep, you sure as heck did let him get to you,” Dia said and I glanced at her, surprised. “You were lucky to survive, girl.”

“If this is lucky, I’d hate to see unlucky,” I grumbled.

“Do you remember what happened, Dulce?” Knight asked, rubbing my hand in his. He sat down on the doctor’s swivel stool until he was eye level with me and smiled warmly. I sighed, trying to summon up the energy to recall what had happened.

“I just wanted to rest my eyes,” I began, recreating the visual of the moments before I’d fallen asleep. “Then next thing I knew, I was in the Wrangler and headed for Charity.” I stopped for a second, remembering my cheery yellow car always parked outside my apartment. If it was possible to love inanimate objects, I loved that car. And realizing what had happened to me, I could only imagine what had happened to it.

“My car?” I squeaked.

“May it rest in peace,” Trey said and looked like he was going to start crying again. He’d always liked the Wrangler too.

I shook my head. “Dammit.”

Knight chuckled. “We’ll get you another one, Dulce, don’t even waste your time thinking about it.” His jaw was tight. “You just focus on healing.”

I nodded, not really wanting to contemplate the fact that Knight was being so caring—he was making it harder and harder not to want him, not to allow him to get closer to me. I shook off the feelings—I had more important things to focus on at the moment. Instead, I tried to remember the events that had led to this point. “I remember seeing a car behind me.” The memory of the other vehicle with the garish headlights came crashing in on me and I felt myself wince. “The car pulled in front of me and then it just stopped. I…I must have hit it.” I paused for a minute or two, blinking back tears. I hadn’t realized I was emotionally traumatized until I’d remembered the events, replayed them in gory detail, relived the feelings of helplessness and fear all over again. I dropped my head to the side, hoping to hide my tears. “That’s all I really remember.”

Everyone was quiet for a second or two, probably drumming up their own visuals of my story.

“It was all a dream, Dulcie,” Knight started and at my expression of confusion and disbelief, continued. “They only recovered one car at the scene, yours. It appears you ran into a tree.”

I couldn’t even respond. A dream? And I’d run into a tree?

“You should have been killed, Dulcie,” Knight said. “You weren’t wearing your seat belt and the Wrangler rolled. You were thrown out of the side window and it should have killed you.”

“Like I said before, I’m hard to kill,” I said with an insincere laugh, feeling pain in every joint of my body.

“Dulcie, that’s not my point,” Knight said and leaned closer to me. “You used magic…you were able to protect yourself.”

I suddenly remembered the fairy dust in my palm, throwing it and thinking of a protective buttress against the pavement. “Yeah, I did.”

Knight glanced up at Dia and she inhaled deeply. “I knew it,” she said in a tight voice. “Magic won’t work against a Dreamstalker,” she continued. “The dream world is their turf, not ours. Dreamstalkers control the dreamer.”

“Maybe you were right, Dia,” Trey said, biting his lower lip. “Maybe it’s not a Dreamstalker.”

“I told you it wasn’t,” she said and shook her head. “If this isn’t proof enough for y’all, I don’t know what is.”

I couldn’t say I was really paying attention to their conversation. My mind hadn’t quite progressed past the point of realizing that I’d been able to use my magic while under the power of the Dreamstalker. And that was the key to defeating him—it had to be. “Knight, if we can manipulate the dream, we can defeat him.”

Knight glanced at me, his brow furrowed. “That is a dangerous thought.”

Dia scoffed. “Dangerous isn’t even the word for it. Suicidal is more like it. Didn’t you hear me when I said the dream world is their turf? If this thing even is a Dreamstalker, we’d be idiots to think of defeating it on its playground.”

Knight nodded. “She has a point.”

“So, what, we’re just going to sit here and let it claim its victims?” I insisted. “I, for one, sure as hell am not going to let that happen.”

Dia shook her head. “We stick to the plan. If it’s a Dreamstalker, I can track it and if it’s pretending to be a Dreamstalker, it will still follow the same pattern. Either way, it will be coming for its victims and when it does, we’ll be here to stop it.”

Apparently it was two against one—Trey was silent so he didn’t count. I sat up and everyone came nearer, concern drawing their faces like they thought I was about to break into acrobatics ala Cirque Du Soleil. “I need to get out of here,” I started.

“You can’t leave, Dulce,” Knight said sternly and stood up. “You haven’t been released yet.”

I shook my head. “This sucks, Knight. I have too much to do to be stuck in this damn place all day.” I glanced down at myself, taking in the white hospital robe, complete with mini pink rosebuds repeated across the white surface. Couldn’t they make hospital attire a little less grandma-like? I leaned forward but Knight pushed me back into the downy pillows.

“Take it easy, Dulce. There’s no rush,” he insisted.

“There is a rush,” I argued, suddenly remembering the fact that Sam was in this same hospital, still fighting the Dreamstalker. There was an absolute rush. Rush wasn’t even the word for it. “Is Sam okay?”

Knight nodded. “She’s fine. She’s in the next room over.” He grabbed my hands again, as if to say he’d ensure I was immobilized if need be. “You just need to relax and let yourself heal. Even though you don’t have broken bones, your muscles are bruised.”

“I don’t have time to rest,” I said, even though I could already see the writing on the wall. If the hospital wasn’t ready to release me, I’d stay. Knight would see to it. He was definitely the most annoyingly bossy person I’d ever met. If he thought I needed to stay and heal, I’d stay and heal. Dammit. “I have to get this guy.”

“Nope, not happening,” Knight said and his jaw was set with that stubborn defiance I’d only otherwise seen in myself.

I frowned and sighed, realizing I’d been bested. “So, what’s wrong with me?”

Knight arched a brow, apparently surprised by the fact that I wasn’t still arguing. “Nothing, as far as they can tell.”

“So if nothing is wrong with me, why can’t I leave?”

He shook his head and chuckled. “They want to keep you here for a day or so to make sure everything is okay—they’re still running tests to ensure you didn’t suffer internal injuries.”

“Great,” I said with as much irritation as I could muster.

“You need to just sleep and heal,” Knight continued.

I glanced up at him, anger suddenly overtaking me. “Sleep?” I demanded. “Are you insane? Look what sleeping did to me!”

He ran his finger down my cheek and I attempted to push it away but the IV in my arm punished me with a smart, stinging pinch.

“You’ll have Dia here with you. She’s volunteered to stay,” he finished.

I glanced at Dia and she smiled at me like she was some great gift. “No offense to Dia but how the hell is she going to help me when I’m sound asleep and the Dreamstalker decides to take me for another joy ride?”

Dia laughed. “Girl, have you not listened to a word I’ve been saying since we met?”

I glanced at her and frowned so she continued. “I’m a sleep goblin.”

So sue me if I wasn’t following but I hadn’t slept for three days and I’d just been in a major accident. “So what?”

She shook her head like I was a slow kid. “So, I can chaperone your slumber to make sure nothing interferes.”

“You can protect me in my sleep?” I asked, my tone sounding like she also had a bridge to sell me.

She nodded proudly, like she was the shit. Well, if she could protect me while I was asleep, she was more than the shit in my books. And, hell, I’d even buy any bridges she was selling.

“I told you I’d come in handy,” she said.

“So, why can’t you protect my dreams all the time?” I demanded, suddenly angry again. “You mean, I could have been sleeping all this time? Why couldn’t you have saved me from totaling my car?” I didn’t mean for my voice to sound so shrill but I really couldn’t help it.

“It takes a huge amount of concentration to maintain the psychic protective walls around you,” Dia started defensively. “I can do it for maybe an hour at the most and afterwards, I’m exhausted for days. It’s not something that’s easy to do.”

I nodded, relinquishing my anger. “Sorry, my nerves are just a little bit shot.”

“No need to apologize, Dulce, I gotcha,” Dia said and winked.

The sound of splashing interrupted our conversation and I craned my neck to the right, glancing at the perpetrator—a Hyacinth Water Pixie sitting on a fist-sized rock in a glass bowl, surrounded by water and lotus blooms. Anger coursed through me—I detested pixies. “What the hell is that and why is it in my room?”

The pixie looked at me with distaste and began pouring water over her back, taking a bath and ignoring my outburst, like she was the bigger person. Ha. That was one reason I despised pixies—they were so damn patronizing. And more so, the pixie I used to work with at the ANC was constantly digging me about this and that—mainly because she’d been in love with Quillan and he and I had been…tight.

“It’s a Hyacinth Water Healer,” Trey said, his tone repeating the “duh” sentiment that must have been going through his head.

“I know what it is,” I spat out. “I don’t want it in here.”

Hyacinth Water Pixies were known for their healing powers and Netherworld creatures sent them to each other to help promote healing. They were like a better version of “get well soon” flowers. Only I hated pixies so it wasn’t doing much of anything for me, other than pissing me off.

Dia laughed and seized the fish tank, the pixie nearly falling off the rock as she grabbed the sides of the tank to stable herself. “Can’t stand these darn things, myself,” she said and headed for the hallway, her laugh trailing after her.

I faced Knight again. “Nice joke.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t my doing.”

Trey suddenly looked especially guilty and pretended extreme interest in his shoes. Realizing I was acting more than bitchy, I reached for his hand and smiled. “You’re awesome, Trey.”

He grinned from ear to ear and hopefully the pixie was forgotten. I glanced at Knight again. “Since I obviously can’t leave this bed, I need you to do me a favor.”

He leaned forward and eyed me speculatively. “I think I could be persuaded into doing you a favor.”

“Go to the library and get me every book you can on dreaming,” I started and watched his expression fall. No doubt he’d thought I was flirting with him. Sigh.

“Dulcie, I thought we were sticking with the plan?” Knight said grumpily.

“We are,” I ground out. “But, since I’m going to be stuck here with nothing to do and all day and night to do it in, I need some reading material.”

“Trey, are you taking notes?” Knight asked and turned to Trey.

“Of course, I’m the grunt,” he muttered.

Knight didn’t respond and I just shook my head. “Thank you, Trey.”

“Yeah, yeah, Ms. I’m so smart, I read books.”

“Smart and beautiful,” Knight said and threw me a boyish smile.

Trey shook his head and started for the door. “You two just need to do it and get it over with.”

Knight was right behind him. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

I watched them walk into the hallway and then they were gone. Minutes after Trey and Knight left, Dia entered, minus the Hyacinth Water Pixie, thank Hades.

“You ready to get some sleep, Girl?” Dia asked with a smile as she strode up to my bedside.

I nodded. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

She seemed to hesitate for a second or two, her lips clenched. “Can I offer some unsolicited advice?” Dia began and I glanced up at her in surprise.

“Shoot.”

She took another few seconds to collect her thoughts. “I used to have a cockatiel named Tweety, and I loved that bird. He was bright yellow with orange spots on his head and he used to whistle every time I came home.” She had this far away sort of expression on her face, like she was living a totally different time.

“Um, that’s a nice story, Dia, but what does that have to do with anything?” I asked, not meaning to sound so brusque.

She didn’t seem to hear me or if she did, she didn’t care but just continued her story. “This bird would sing constantly and I used to love to listen to him. I had him for thirteen years which is a really long time for a cockatiel to live, you know?”

I didn’t but anyway…

“Then one day he passed away from a heart attack and it just broke my heart.” She glanced at me and it looked like she was waiting for me to respond but the problem was, I wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’m sorry?” I asked, frowning.

“Even though I miss that bird now, I had thirteen years of love, Dulcie, and even though it hurts to think of him now, if I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t change anything because it was better to have loved him and lost him than never to have had him at all.”

I nodded, sort of figuring where she was going with all of this. But, I didn’t say anything.

“I don’t know what your background is and I don’t know why you wear that shield up wherever you go,” she said and her gaze was so piercing, I felt like she was seeing through me. “But, I do know you’re a good person and deserve to love someone like I loved Tweety.”

“Thanks,” I started but she held up her hand as if to say she wasn’t yet finished.

“And I also don’t know much about Mr. Vander other than the fact that he is just gorgeous on a stick but I know he cares about you—I can see it in his eyes. And you’d be making a big mistake if you didn’t take a chance with that one.”

“You definitely don’t know Knight,” I said, a myriad of reasons why he wasn’t a good idea bubbling through my mind.

“I know enough to know when you’re trying to talk yourself out of something, Girl, and you just want to make sure you aren’t missing out on a Tweety.”

The truth of it was that I wasn’t sure Tennyson was right when he’d said it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I’d loved and lost and I could honestly say it was better to let the a*sholes go and break some other dumbass’s heart than risk mine again.

Tweety be damned.