Kim Harrison - The Witch with No Name

It was anguished and alone, even as others of its ilk hovered supportively nearby—forgotten and abandoned, curled into a tight ball in the center of my presence like a lion cub seeking comfort from a dead lioness—unresponsive even as everything about her screamed memories of comfort and warmth.

I saw myself through it, my dream cycling down to this tiny spot of torment until its heartache became mine. Confusion and betrayal soaked into me until I wept, not understanding. I’d searched for so long, and now there was nothing. I’d been forgotten, like a dream finding the window shut against it.

She doesn’t see, the mystic moaned to the others, and they clustered about it, trying to make it feel better, that it would become. But it wouldn’t.

I took a breath in my dream to shout that I saw them, that I was here, that I was. But a soft gong distracted me, blurring my intent. It came again, and my dream broke apart as the waves of sound moved through my unconsciousness and pushed me awake.

That’s Trent’s alarm, I thought groggily as a chill slipped under the covers. The bed moved and my weight shifted as Trent pulled from me, stretching to reach his phone.

I sighed, eyes closed as he rolled back, his warmth up against me now dulled with a sheet between us. The weight of a hand pressed into the bed at my left shoulder as he propped himself up over me and leaned to try to see my face. “Rachel, did you want to get up?” he whispered. “I can tell you what happens.”

A fuzzy-feeling smile came over me, and I rolled onto my back. Eyes opening, I tucked his hair behind one of his pointy ears as he hung over me. The light was dim with the coming sunrise since the drapes at the French doors to the garden were open, and it made his eyes dark. He was himself but different. “I like you best this way,” I said, seeing him rested and still soft with sleep, smelling of soap from his shower before he’d come to bed.

The bed shifted as he found my fingers and kissed the tips. “The sun doesn’t wait for lovers or villains. Up or not?”

I groaned, gaze on the elaborately painted ceiling of horses and the hunt. The sun had risen on the East Coast almost half an hour ago, and we both wanted to know if the demons and vampire souls had been pulled back to the ever-after. “Up,” I said, and his smile widened at the pained sound in my voice. This was insane, getting up at dawn, but I was starting to become used to it even if my stomach hurt and my thoughts were slow. Horrors, as my mother would say.

Trent kissed my fingertips again. “I’ll see if the coffee is going,” he said as he rolled to the edge of the bed, and I watched him, listless and unwilling to move yet. The faint light outlined his skin, accenting his abs and thighs defined by his horsemanship. I sat up and shoved my tangled mess of hair back and tried to imagine his gorgeous body tamed by the years, more mature but no less attractive. Yes, I wanted to be there, but as I looked at the shadowed opulent room with its heavy furniture and extravagant lushness and attention to detail, I had a hard time seeing myself here longer than a weekend. On the few occasions I’d been here without Trent, I’d felt lost, as if I was curling in around something that didn’t recognize or have a need for me. Sort of like my dream.

Propped up against the headboard, I watched him hike his slacks up. My God, the man had a nice stomach. “I’m going to miss you today,” I whispered.

Trent’s smile vanished briefly as he put his shirt on. Head down over the buttons, he said, “Believe me, I’d rather be spending it with you. Just because I have the right to speak before the dewar doesn’t mean they have to listen.” He worked the last button and tossed the hair from his eyes, making my heart stop with his smile. “You want to try to meet up around noon?”

I fumbled for my own phone, squinting at it and seeing that I’d gotten a call from Edden last night. It wasn’t tagged as urgent and I set it back down. I’d been planning on spending the day with Jenks and probably Ivy at the church to find out what we’d lost and what could be salvaged. “Only if you’re really available,” I said as I scrunched back down into the warm blankets. “You know you’re not going to have time for a coffee, much less lunch.”

The bed shifted as he sat next to me to put on his socks. “I’m only going to be across the river. There might be more support among the dewar than at first glance. It’s easy to stand by and do nothing, even when you know it’s wrong, harder when someone calls you out on it. If we have a wave of suncides this morning, it will be easier.” My smile froze, and he looked up, one sock in hand. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” I said, touching his hand.

Expression grim, he put his ankle on a knee. I’d seen him do it a hundred times before, but never to put his sock on. “That doesn’t make me feel any better or this any easier.”

I was silent, my hand tracing along his back as he leaned over his foot. “Trent,” I said softly, remembering my dream. “Are the mystics still with me?”

His fingers fumbled, and alarm brought me still. “Ah, why do you ask?”

“I had a weird dream.”

His smile wasn’t exactly fake when he stood up, but he was hiding concern, which only fueled my own. “Not unusual when you’re woken up early,” he said, words a bit breathy as he dragged a shoe out from under the dresser. “You scared me last night.”

“Really? What part?” I scooted farther back, against the headboard. “When I tried to throttle Cincy’s head vampire, or when I stood up to Mica?”

His expression caught at me when he sat back down beside me. “When the mystics found you. Rachel—”

“Oh God. It’s bad, isn’t it?” I said.

Smiling, he cupped my face, but there was sorrow in his eyes. “You might be sparkling just because you’re glad to see me.”

Crap on toast, it was bad. My hands clenched themselves, and I looked at them, twisted about themselves into a knot in my lap.

“Rachel,” he breathed, pulling me to him. My arms went around him and I held my breath, trying not to cry. I hadn’t called them to me even if I’d missed them. I’d done everything right, and I was exactly where I’d started. The elves hated Trent because of me, and with the mystics, I’d probably lost the demon support, too. It was falling apart, and I couldn’t stop it!

“You’re not hearing anything, are you?” His words shifted my hair, and I shook my head. What happened in a dream was not reality. And there were no voices showing me visions around corners. His grip on me shifted, and I looked up to see his relief. “Then you’re okay,” he said, making my heart almost break that he cared that much. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you do.”

“Promise.” My foot twisted under me was falling asleep, and my other, hanging out over the edge of the bed behind him, was getting cold. I wasn’t going to move, though, not with Trent holding me, telling me he loved me without even a word. “What time is your appointment?”

His breathing shifted, his shoulders tensing. “Nine forty-five.”

It was only a few hours away. “I’m sorry,” I said as he let go. “If it wasn’t for me, the enclave would be listening to you and you could have stopped this before it started.”

Trent’s eyes widened. “Is that what you think? Rachel, if not for you, then I’d probably have been the one to start it in the first place. I like who I am. Do you know how long it’s been since I did? Listen to me.” He took my shoulders, leaning over to find my eyes. “You and I are an excuse for the dewar to try and wrestle control away. This would’ve happened regardless.”