Dream a Little Dream Read online

  “Butler,” she whispered, sending out the push, shaping the dreamscape around her to match her will. “Butler, please find me.”

  She made herself a beacon. It was all she should do. If he wanted her, his desire would tug at her and she’d be able to find him. But so far, all she felt was the wavering, distant push from other shapers who were dealing with their own dreams.

  At ten, the accident had triggered something in her that she’d never known before. There’d been nobody to teach her how to manipulate the Ephemeros. She’d had to figure it out on her own, through research and practice and the occasional interaction within the dream world with others who could shape the way she could. She knew there were some who made it their duty to assist dreamers with their nightly adventures, filling in the spots they couldn’t or playing whatever roles were necessary to make the dream happen. Some shapers made it their business to make nightmares happen, too, but Mariella had been no more interested in that than she’d been in making any other kind of dream come true. In the Ephemeros, she wanted only to play.

  Right now, she was verging on desperate to play with Butler.

  Behind her, the ocean. In front of her, the mountains, distant again without Butler to bring them closer. The black sand beneath her feet shifted, cool and soft. She lifted her face to the breeze and breathed, sending out her desire as far and wide as she could.

  Butler.

  A man materialized. Tall, dark and handsome, especially with his crimson eyes and the ebony wings sprouting from his bare, muscled back. He wore only a pair of black silk pajama bottoms, draped low on his hips. And his body...Good Lord. He had abs upon abs upon abs. But he wasn’t what she wanted.

  “No,” she said.

  The angel-vampire-whatever-the-fuck-it-was straightened. The wings unfurled, making a wind that blew back her hair. A low chuckle issued from what admittedly was a very lovely mouth...for someone into that sort of thing.

  “No?” it asked. “I think you mean yes.”

  Oh, hell, no. Mariella drew herself up. She hadn’t been representing as anything but herself, albeit a little thinner, her hair a shade of blond she’d never even tried in real life. But she wasn’t pretending to be some kind of creature. Not until now.

  She grew taller. Hair wild and flowing. In her hand a weapon, some long sword of shining silver with a hilt in the shape of a wolf’s head.

  “No,” she repeated.

  For a moment, the thing shimmered. Beneath the dark hair she caught a glimpse of pale brown. Glasses on a round face. Feminine curves. Interesting, she had time to think before the angel-thing solidified again.

  “I could smell your desire. I came. You want me. Everyone wants me,” the thing said. “You want me!”

  “No. I don’t. I want—”

  “Butler,” the thing said. “You want Butler.”

  Mariella hefted the sword. “Go away. This isn’t your business. Find someone else to play with.”

  “I want you,” the thing said.

  Shit. There’d been a few times when Mariella had faced this before. Another shaper insistent on pressing his or her will on her own. It hadn’t ended well for any of them, and she didn’t think it would do so now. She took the sword in both hands, holding it out in front of her.

  The angel-thing came at her. Mariella swung, bringing blood, but in the next instant she was on her back with the thing’s wings beating at her. Sand flew into her eyes, blinding her. Stinging. She felt the rake of claws on her, tearing away her clothes. There was pain—you might not be able to die in a dream, but shit could sure hurt.

  Screaming, Mariella bucked upward but the angel-thing’s weight was too heavy. The wings battered her, making it impossible to see or hear. All she could do was fight and scream and send out her will to push the thing away.

  “Butler!”

  The angel-thing’s hands went around Mariella’s throat. Squeezing. Mariella choked, unable to scream, but pushed herself, her represented self, into another form. Spikes shot from every part of her, piercing the thing on top of her. With an agonized shriek, it fell away, and Mariella rolled to her feet. She’d never been a big fan of superhero movies, had caught only bits and pieces of X-Men, but suddenly she felt like Wolverine. Only all over.

  It lasted only a moment, though, because the angel-thing rallied. Claws. Fangs. Wings tipped with razors. It came at her again, jaw gaping like an anaconda’s, and Mariella tried to duck away but couldn’t. Not in time. She hit the sand again, warm from the blood gushing out of her. She sent out another call, agonizing, screaming in her head as well as with her raw throat, bubbling blood.

  The angel-thing roared. Its weight lifted. Then higher. A metal spike thrust through its chest, gushing black blood. It shriveled, writhing and screaming, and faded away.

  “Butler,” Mariella cried. “You found me!”

  He helped her up. Together they went into the ocean, which should have seared her wounds but instead soothed them. They floated. He cradled her, stroking her hair back from her face. She couldn’t remember the color any longer, but it was long again. She was naked. So was he.

  But when she kissed him, he hesitated. Her wounds had disappeared. There was no more gore. She felt him stir against her, his cock thickening, but still he pulled away.

  “I...can’t,” he said.

  Mariella floated in the dream sea, her feet treading out of habit and memory, not need. She’d float forever if she wanted to. Or sink, and never drown.

  “Why?”

  “I’ve met someone,” Butler said. As he always had, he represented as nearly identical to his waking self.

  The ocean receded, tossing them onto the sand. Mariella untangled herself from him. “What?”

  Butler stood, too. “I really like her.”

  Mariella shook her hair, already dry. It blew around her face until she forced it back. She wasn’t naked any longer, and that had come from him. He’d put clothes on her. “You know this is a dream, right?”

  “I know. But...” He eyed her. “I’ve dreamed of you a lot.”

  Mariella nodded. “Yes.”

  “But I’ve dreamed of meeting someone like her for a lot longer,” Butler said. “I really like her. She’s like nobody I ever met before. Ever.”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” Mariella muttered. She had no idea what percentage of people were shapers compared to dreamers, but she knew there weren’t as many who could do what she did. “But it’s not like she’d really know.”

  Ridiculous. She was tempting him to cheat on her with herself. And could you even call it cheating when they’d had one date and a few phone and video chats, and he’d barely kissed her? And this was a dream!

  “I’m sorry.” Butler shrugged. “What can I say? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her all night. I was hoping to dream about her, but when I heard you calling me, I couldn’t ignore it. I had to come.”

  A bench had shifted into existence next to them. A nice stone path. Some trees. They sat next to each other, knees touching occasionally, but it was so different from how they’d been at the restaurant and on the river path that there was no doubt about his interest in “Millie.” Or lack thereof.

  “Look, I have to go.” Butler stood, looking into the distance before he smiled at her. “You take care, okay?”

  “Wait a minute!” Mariella stood, too. “Butler. Listen to me...”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I really have to go. I might be able dream about her tonight, if I’m lucky.”

  Mariella sighed, feeling a tug of awareness pulling her up and out of sleep. “No, you won’t.”

  He looked so dejected she wanted to tell him why, but before she could, her eyes opened to the sound of a far-off siren. Frustrated, she rolled onto her side and found her phone, snuggled in its docking station. S