The person grabbed me again, this time lifting me half up before dropping me onto my bed.
With an angry snarl, I finally cracked my eyes open to find Connor looming over me. I glanced beyond him to my windows covered with blackout curtains.
The sun was still up. No wonder it felt like I was fighting through a cottony cloud of blankets.
I attempted to roll over again, mumbling. "Too early. Come back when the sun's down."
Connor forestalled the movement, poking me in the forehead. "I'm afraid that's not possible."
I lifted a hand in an aborted attempt to fend him off, not bothering to open my eyes as I did so. "Course it is. Walk to the door and wait until there is no more fiery ball of awful in the sky."
My hand collapsed, hitting me on the face on its way down. Moving it proved too much of an effort, so I left it where it was.
Tomorrow—or rather later today, he and I were going to have a talk about boundaries and when to wake me up versus let me sleep.
"Thomas is here."
A wary alertness stole through my limbs even as I resisted opening my eyes. Maybe this was a dream. If I pretended it wasn't happening, it would go away.
The air stirred as Connor leaned over me. "Did you hear me?"
"No, you're a figment of my dream. Go away, dream. Never come back."
There was a soft snort of surprised amusement before Connor nudged me again, his finger poking harder than last time. I played possum even as the pressure grew to pain.
"Ow." I slapped Connor's hand away. "What is wrong with you?"
"Thomas is here."
"Tell him to go away."
I was too tired for this, exhaustion making my thoughts heavy and slow. No good would come of me trying to deal with Thomas when I was in this state. He needed a fully aware Aileen who could think quick on her feet. Not one who was a sleep-deprived zombie.
"Can't."
I frowned at Connor. "Yes, you can."
Stubbornness was written on his face. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was as apprehensive as me at the thought of Thomas showing up here so unexpectedly.
"You're his eldest. You should get the task of dealing with him." Pleased with my delegation I collapsed back onto the bed, curling around my pillow.
The floorboards creaked seconds before a tapping started on the side of my head.
My eyes opened as I glared at my covers. "How long are you planning to do that?"
"Until you get up and deal with this."
I batted his hand away and faced him, leveling my best glare on him, the one that used to make privates think twice about testing my patience. It had no discernible effect on Connor.
"Why me?"
"This is your house," Connor informed me.
"You're older."
One could say he had more experience with our sire—and arguably more patience. Really, he was the best option for the job.
"And you're younger." He bent an inquiring look on me. "Shall we play this game some more or would you like to get the door?"
