“Nothing yet. I talked to one of the people who asked me to look into the dreamers case. John Beauchamp has agreed to let you come and look at his wife, Lily. She fell into a coma this morning, but the husband is waiting for you to check her before he takes her into the hospital,” Kenna replied, not bothering to ask if he was busy at all. “They are expecting you in the next hour.”
“I’m not sure if I can help, but I’ll try. Thanks, Kenna,” Bas said before hanging up. He smiled at Bridget. “Looks like we get to go on an outing this afternoon.”
The victim’shouse was located between Trinity College and Dublin Castle, so Bas decided to walk rather than drive the short distance. He was restless and hoped it might wear him out and help clear his head. He needed to focus on the case and not on how he wanted to pin Bridget to the nearest surface and not let her up until he knew everything about her. If she was his mate, then his obsession with her would make sense.
Bas still wasn’t sure if his dragon was just hopeful she was because it was lonely. He needed to talk to Taranis, but if he did, the whole family would know his dragon was playing up because no one in the family could keep a secret for long. He didn’t want someone running their mouths in front of Bridget before he had a chance to talk to her about it either.
“I really like this part of the city,” Bridget said from beside him. “I thought about trying to get into Trinity College when I first moved here.”
“What made you change your mind?” Bas asked.
“I don’t think I would have the patience for all the boring stuff that the undergrad students need to do. I want to learn things I’m interested in. I’m not interested in regurgitating the same boring ideas back to teachers. I want my own ideas, and university, especially at that level, isn’t interested in original thought,” she said, stuffing her hands further into the pockets of her leather jacket.
Bas chuckled. “Gods, you are such a magician.”
“You all keep saying that, and I have no idea what you are talking about. I just like to research things. My ability to go into the astral plane is from dissociation and trauma. It’s not from magic.”
“It might have started that way, but if you want to, I can show you how to hone your magic. The power is there. If you don’t want me teaching you how to use it, my father is an excellent teacher.”
A smile lifted the corner of Bridget’s lips. “I don’t think I could keep my mind from wandering places it shouldn’t if I took you up on the offer of teaching.”
“Why? Do you have some naughty professor fantasies? Because I can be convinced to give you an A.”
Bridget threw her head back and laughed so loud that people walking past stared. Bas stared because he loved to see her face light up. He wanted to kiss her and feel those laughing lips against his.
“You wouldn’t be able to handle my naughty professor fantasies,” she teased.
“Won’t know until we try.” That made her laugh again, so Bas counted it as a win.
They found the victim’s apartment block without much difficulty. It was wedged between a Tesco’s and H&M. It looked like a cold block of gray stone and glass. Bas didn’t like modern architecture because it didn’t look like it had any soul. They rang the buzzer and waited.
“Who is it?” a tired-sounding man replied.
“My name is Bas Greatdrakes. Kenna Ironwood sent me.”
“Come on up.”
Bas didn’t like the feel of the lobby or the mirrored elevator. There was definitely an aura in the place that rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t know if it had anything to do with the dream monster or not.
“God, I hate fluorescent lighting,” Bridget muttered beside him. “It feels like we are in a hospital.”
“Morgue,” Bas replied, glad he wasn’t the only one the place bothered.
John Beauchamp looked exhausted, with bags under his eyes and a gray pallor to his skin.
“Thanks for coming. Kenna said you were some kind of expert?” he said, letting them into the apartment.
“I am. This is my assistant, Bridget. Can you tell us how long your wife has been unwell?” Bas asked gently.
“The nightmares started about a month ago. I thought she was just working too hard. Her anxiety grew higher the less sleep she got. She was disorientated and restless. Wasn’t eating. Last night, she tried to jump off the balcony, and when I stopped her, she lost consciousness and hasn’t woken up.”
“Did she mention a shadow man at all?” Bridget asked him.
His bloodshot eyes went wide. “Yeah, she did. How did you know?”
Bas didn’t want to tell him that there had been other victims. “Can I see her?”
“Ah, yeah. This way,” John said and showed them into a bedroom. It smelled of unwashed sheets and stale sweat. A woman was in the bed, eyes closed and dark hair spread out in greasy ropes.
