Page 79 of Realm of Dreams & Shadows

But was that because he wasn’t trustworthy? Or simply because Chase told me to be wary?

I truly don’t know.

All I know is the way I’d felt so deliciously warm in his presence. The way I’d felt utterly his. A sensation so like the way I feel around Chase, that it was almost eerie.

I crave both men. There’s no denying that.

But one man has the stamp of danger, and how the hell can I know if he really, truly deserves it?

By the time my shift ends, anxiety has settled in my stomach like a cold stone. Tonight, everything changes. Tonight, I stop being a student learning party tricks and become something else entirely.

I just hope I’m ready for whatever that something turns out to be. And if I meet Adric in the dreamscape, I hope that if I have to, I’ll find the strength to run from him.

Chapter

Twenty

The mirror room beneath the bookstore feels different tonight. Last time, candles provided gentle illumination, their flames dancing across the mirrored walls. Tonight, the candles burn with a steadier, more purposeful flame—and there are at least twice as many, positioned in deliberate clusters around the perimeter.

Protective circles have been drawn on the floor in what looks like salt mixed with silver glitter, creating concentric rings that weren’t here before. Bundles of dried herbs hang from hooks I don’t remember seeing—some I recognize from the garden, others that are totally unfamiliar…and very pungent.

Small bowls filled with flecks of metal and crystals are positioned around the circle, and Mr. Griffin is still working, chalking symbols onto some of the mirrors themselves—careful, deliberate strokes that seem to shimmer in the candlelight.

It’s all very impressive—and I have no idea what any of this stuff actually does. “Planning to perform an exorcism?” I try to keep my voice light, but seriously, this isn’t a room that suggests smooth sailing. This room is ready for battle.

“More like building a fortress,” Tia says, meeting my eyes before turning to Chase, her head cocked and her foot tapping. “This room has more protective wards and magicky stuff than the Magic Box on Aviles Street. So why wasn’t all this here yesterday?”

“Yesterday, Cora was wading into the ocean. Today she’s diving into the abyss.” Chase shoots me a sideways glance. “Consider all this your suit and tank and fins.”

“Please tell me you aren’t expecting sharks,” I say.

He flashes me a half-grin. “Not expecting. But I’d rather be overprepared where your safety is concerned.” His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, all the candles and mirrors and gizmos melt away.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “I like the sound of that.”

“You’re going deep tonight,” he says, taking my hand and twining our fingers. “Past the threshold space, and into the actual Nightmare Realm. And Cora, I swear I will keep you safe.” His eyes lock with mine, his intensity cutting through me in a way that makes me wish we were alone.

“I know,” I whisper, as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

For a moment, we just look at each other, and when he finally releases my hand, I feel the loss of that connection deep in my soul.

Across the room, Tia shifts nervously by the wall. “Define safe in this context, because this whole setup is still freaking me out.”

“The goal is controlled navigation,” Whistler says, looking up from a handheld slate on which he’s chalked all sorts of freaky symbols. Last night, Chase told me Whistler’s over three hundred years old by this realm’s count, but apparently that’s barely middle age where he comes from.

Sometime soon, I want to ask Whistler about his home realm. About what it’s like and why he’s here instead of there. Chase told me he’s here for the fight, and I believe that, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s another reason, too. Something that makes the fight as personal for him as it is for me.

“We’ll guide Cora to a specific location—a neutral zone,” Whistler continues, turning his attention to me. “That’s where you can practice realm manipulation without encountering hostile beasties.”

“Neutral zone?” I bite back a smile, thinking of Mom’s old Star Trek DVDs.

“A practice arena,” Griffin says, moving to light additional candles around the perimeter. “A space that exists between territories, claimed by no particular power. Safer for training purposes.”

“What makes it safer?”

“Nothing wants it,” Chase says bluntly. “It’s barren, empty. No emotional energy to feed on, no dreamers to corrupt. Boring, from a nightmare creature’s perspective.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” I glance around the room. “It’s like the threshold space, right? So why all the monitoring?”