“We heard you.”
I tap my leg nervously. This is risky, but if the only way I can feel the connection to Rune is through sleeping, I need to be able to stay in that mode for a while and see if I can locate him that way. It’s worth a shot.
Lacy, I presume, appears from a darkened hallway holding a bottle of swirling blue liquid. She parts her lips in a smile of sorts, revealing rotting teeth, but her eyes are shimmering with joy. What an odd juxtaposition.
“Here you go, Madam.” Lacy hands the person talking to me the bottle. “One drop equals one hour of sleep. Deep sleep.”
“I can’t be woken up while it’s working?”
“That’s correct,” Lacy says. “Be careful with it. It’s very powerful and opens you up to possession if a spirit were to detect an opening. This should be more than enough. Only take a sip, that allows most to sleep for twelve hours, although for a gargoyle it may be less.”
“I understand.”
I reach for the bottle, but “Madam” pulls it away. “Remember our deal?”
“I remember. If Auri approves it, I’m more than happy to help.”
“Very well.” She hands the bottle to me.
The contents feel warm through the glass.
“Only take it when you’re in a safe place where you can sleep uninterrupted. Even better if you have someone watching over you.”
“I can do that. Thank you again.”
“It’s my pleasure. I’m also happy to do business with someone who respects us.”
I nod and turn to leave, but Madam touches my arm. “Yes?”
“You best get out of here before the Ninth Ward witches find you.”
“I was warned. What’s up with them targeting gargoyles?”
“Dying breed and easy to control if you catch them unawares. They used to go after sleeping vampires until they got wise to it. It’s silly really. No reason to steal from others except the mortals.”
Nodding, I reply, “I’m leaving right away.”
I take a few steps outside the cemetery, glance around at the empty street, then focus on returning home. The sooner I can get back to sleep, the better.
RUNE
There it is again.
That flicker of warmth in my chest is back. It’s stronger now, seemingly growing by the second. What it is or what’s causing it is anyone’s guess, but I’m aware of it now, and doing my best to grasp any sliver of magic I can find.
Everything around me is dark and silent, and not for the first time, I wonder what time it is. I can just about glimpse the moon through my tiny window if I strain enough. I’m not even sure itisthe moon, or if it’s another light source, maybe even an illusion for all I know.
With a huff, I lie back on my cot, closing my eyes to focus on the budding magic within me. I find it somewhat comforting, almost soothing, as if it’s trying to tell me I’m going to be okay. Not that I’m worried I won’t be. Just the opposite, actually. Eventually I’ll figure out who did this to me, then I’ll rain hell down on them.
Sleep pulls me under, and I give in to it, my eyelids fluttering as I drift off. Some time later—minutes or hours, who knows—I open my eyes and my jaw drops.
It’s the gargoyle. Here in my prison.
“Atlas?”
He spins around with an erratic expression that calms when he sees me. “Rune. I found you.” He steps forward but stops abruptly. “Wait. I’m not actually here, am I?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m dreaming.”
