It was probably safer if she believed it had all been a dream, but I found myself saying, “Do you want to tell me about it?”
And she did.
Ten minutes later, I stepped out of her room, lost in thought about what her supposed nightmare could mean, and when the elevator dinged at the end of the hall, I almost didn’t react when the real Nurse Debbie stepped out. “Shite,” I cursed, ducking through the closest doorway.
The patient in the room was thankfully sleeping, and I slipped into my backup plan, the skin of a janitor. I had no excuse for why I was coming out of a patient room, but luckily no one asked, and I hid my racing heart behind a calm exterior, taking the elevator back down to the lobby.
Uly was right where I’d left him, and as soon as I stepped off the elevator, his eyes found mine. It didn’t matter that I was now a 50-year-old man with thinning gray hair and a lank form. I had a feeling no matter my shape, this man would see me more clearly than anyone had before. He was on his feet straight away and fell into step with me on the way out the door, and as soon as we were on thesidewalk, he laced his fingers through mine and gave them a squeeze, lending me his comfort.
We didn’t speak until we were back in my car, pulling away from the curb. I could see the questions in his eyes, but he waited until I was ready to share—trusted that I would.
Finally, once my nerves had settled, the sound of her broken wail still echoing in my ears, I let my own form take over once more. That alone had Uly relaxing back into his seat. “She said she’s been having nightmares,” I told him, “something about a dark room that stank like smoke and this feeling of dread that drowned her. She said it was like being trapped underwater for hours and unable to take a breath, until she was praying for death.”
Uly frowned, absent-mindedly rubbing a hand across his ribs where I knew his injuries had begun to itch. “Well, that’s dark.” He sighed, looking out the window at the passing businesses. “A dark, smoky room? That’s pretty vague. Any idea what it could be?” he asked.
I shrugged, stopping at a red light, the engine idling. “Maybe it’s nothing at all. Sometimes a dream is just a dream. I mean, I had a dream about dancing poodles last night, but that doesn’t make it true.”
“That’s too bad,” he said, eyebrow arching with tantalizing mischief as he peeked across the car at me. “I had a pretty sexy dream about you last night, and I was really hoping it might come true.”
I knew what he was doing, trying to lighten the mood, and I allowed myself to play along. I growled and leaned across the console to nip at the side of his neck. “I saidsometimesthey’re just dreams, didn’t I? That one sounds like pure prophecy.”
His laugh was exactly the right medicine to chase away the lingering chill after that hospital visit, though I wasn’t quite ready to let this lead go. I might’ve suggested her dream could be meaningless, nothingmore than a vision conjured by a traumatized brain, but there were a fewdark, smoky rooms filled with dreadin Valleywood that I wanted to check out.
Joe’s Pool Hall and Tavern didn’t look anything like the taverns I used to frequent back home in Ireland. Firstly, there was nothing European about it, but that was just the beginning. The floors were scuffed and sticky from spilled drinks, peanut shells crunching underfoot. The music leaned more toward heavy metal, cranked out from the antique jukebox in the corner, instead of the lyrical reels I preferred, and there were more leather vests and studded cuffs than a BDSM club. Of the visible flesh, most of it was tattooed with snakes, guns, and flames, and I was willing to bet it’d been years since any of the clientele had seen a barber.
My disguise had to fit the scene, unfortunately, though it was a battle not to shudder at the feel of it. I was a good 50 pounds heavier than usual, none of it muscle, my jeans chaffing my thick thighs as I clomped across the bar in my steel-toed shit-kickers. I hoped no one looked too closely at my tattoos, or they might notice they were a tad more whimsical than your standard biker, like Snoopy and Hello Kitty and a script of Uly’s name across the back of my hand. Good thing I’d made myself large enough that no one would dare say a word about it.
I wasn’t sure what I expected to find here, but I’d felt so helpless after Uly got hurt, desperation drove me to act. Even though I already knew the chances of walking in and finding a demon parading around were slimmer than slim, even a broken clock was right twice a day. Maybe I would get lucky. I hiked my pants up and bellied up to the bar,ordering a beer. The bartender avoided direct eye contact, as I was sure he’d learned the hard way to keep quiet and serve the drinks. When he slid a dirty glass mug in front of me, I had to force myself to take a sip of the warm, flat ale. How did they drink this swill? I would’ve thought even bikers had standards.
Scanning the patrons, I saw nothing out of place. They were drinking, laughing, playing darts and pool. Disappointment and impatience hit me so hard that I rocked back on my heels, nearly shattering the mug in my tightening fist. “Fuck,” I cursed under my breath, slamming the mug down to slosh piss-warm beer across the counter.
“Having a bad night?” a man to my left said, scanning me from head to toe. His dark, wiry hair was streaked with gray, tied in a ponytail that hung down his back, his weather-worn skin like leather.
“More like a bad month,” I replied, turning my body to welcome conversation. “Some whack job robbed me. He musta been on something, because he was crazy strong, eyes black, and even bullets didn’t slow him down.”
“Sounds rough,” he agreed, but there was no glimmer of awareness, no suspicion. “PCP maybe?”
“Maybe,” I agreed, sighing as I turned back to the bar. This was a dead end. I should just go back to the car where Uly was waiting for me. My time would be better spent with him, rewarding him for his patience and for letting me drag him around with me all day.
I felt the change in the air the second the front door opened. Heads turned, leers growing on nearly every face in the room, and I didn’t need to turn around and look to know that my precious sin-eater was near.
The guy I’d been talking to had also turned. It was like they could all smell him, like a ripe fucking peach. “Damn, baby. You lookin’ to piss off your daddy? Cause I would love to help you make a few mistakestonight,” he catcalled, and my whole vision went red. The only thing stopping me from tearing his head from his body was Uly; I didn’t want him to see just how monstrous I could be.
I snapped an arm out and grabbed the guy by the front of his shirt, hoisting him straight off his stool. “Watch your fucking mouth,” I hissed low enough that only he could hear. “That’s my mate you’re talking to.” Then I dropped him straight to the floor in a heap.
Then without another word, I turned and closed the distance between me and a startled-looking Uly, bent down, and threw him over my shoulder, marching straight back through the bar. I ignored the lecherous ribbing from the others as I slammed through the door and out into the cooling night air.
“I told you to wait in the car,” I growled as I stomped my way to where I’d parked at the far end of the parking lot filled with motorcycles. “This place is too dangerous. You could’ve been hurt—or worse.” My blood was pulsing in my temples in violent throbs, not because I was mad at him but because it was becoming increasingly difficult to restrain myself around him. Acknowledging that he was my mate was only the first step to binding myself to him for all eternity, and I knew he wasn’t ready for that level of commitment. He needed time and space, but there was no denying I wanted him.Neededhim. And if he got hurt again…
He pounded an ineffective fist against my back. “You need me! I took one whiff of that place and knew the demon we’re looking for wasn’t there—had never been there! You should be using my skills, instead of making me sit in the car with the window cracked, like a dog.”
“Lagamal didn’t hire you, he hiredme. This isn’t your job!”
“Only because you’re too stubborn to accept a little help,” he snapped.
Even as furious as I was, I set him down gently on his feet beside the car before I glared down at him, willing him to be obedient—even though I could acknowledge how I loved the way he pushed back and challenged me. “Why can’t you just trust that I know what’s best for you?” I growled, hating every word that came out of my mouth. I sounded like my father.
He had the good sense not to argue, but instead of the apology I’d hoped to get from him, he asked, “Can you change back? You’re actually pretty intimidating like this, and entirely too tall for this conversation. I’m getting a crick in my neck.”
