Sherrilyn Kenyon: Phantom Lover

"No, never."

"Hmmm, interesting."

She frowned as he made a few notes on the pad he'd carried inside with him. "Why?"

"Well, they're part of history. Tell me, did you ever take an ancient Greek civilization or mythology course in college?"

"No, not really. I mean, we covered the basic Greek pantheon in high school and I had to read the Odyssey and Oedipus Rex in college, but that was it."

"Hmmm," he said as if he found that interesting, too.

"Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering how the idea of the Skoti got implanted into your subconscious."

There was a peculiar note in his voice that made her extremely apprehensive. "What are you saying, they're real?"

He laughed. "That depends on whether or not you believe in the ancient Greek gods. But they were part of that culture. They were, for lack of a better term, nightmare demons. They were said to infiltrate the dreams of humans so they could suck emotions and creativity. It made them high, if you will."

"Like energy vampires?"

"Something like that. Anyway, the legend goes that they would visit a soul a few times during its lifetime and move on. It's how the ancients explained away their nightmares. Supposedly, every so often a Skotos would latch on to a particular victim and go back over and over until the person became insane from the visits."

"Insane how?"

He took a sip of his drink. "The scientific theory behind the legend would be that the visitations, whatever they really were, disrupted normal sleep patterns, causing the victim to never really rest or rejuvenate during the night, thereby causing mental duress. If it continued long enough, it would lead to mental instability."

A shiver went down her spine. This sounded just a little too much like what had been happening to her. "So, how does someone get rid of a Skotos?"

"According to legend, you can't."

"Can I fight them?"

He shook his head. "No, but the ancient Greeks believed in perfect balance. As you have the evil Skotos, likewise you have the benevolent Oneroi who fight them for you."

"Oneroi?"

"They were believed to be the children of the dream god Morpheus. They were champions of humans and gods alike. Incapable of feeling emotions, they spend eternity protecting humans in their sleep. Whenever the Skoti latch on to a human and begin to drain too much from that person, the Oneroi come in and save the human from their clutches."

"Like V'Aidan did me."

"So it would seem."

"And the Skoti, where do they come from?"

"They were the children of Phobetor, the god of animal shapes. His name means 'frightening,' hence their dominion over nightmares."

"So the Skoti and Oneroi are related?"

He nodded.

"Fascinating," she said, mulling over her new knowledge while thinking about her dreams.

Vaguely she recalled the threats the Skoti had made against V'Aidan. Was it possible that somehow these demons had really infiltrated her sleep? Could V'Aidan and the others possibly be real?

It was ludicrous and yet…

Her face flamed. If they were real, then she'd just had a one-night stand with a perfect stranger.

"Dr. Sword," she asked seriously, "do you believe they exist?"

His light blue gaze bored into her. "Young lady, I have seen things in my life that would make anyone prematurely gray. I learned a long time ago not to discount any possibility. But personally, I find the idea of Greek gods infiltrating my dreams highly disturbing."

Her face burned even more. "I assure you, you don't find them half as disturbing as I do."

He smiled. "I suppose not." He reached to the small leather case on his belt and pulled out a Palm Pilot. "Tell you what. Why don't you and I schedule an appointment next week to have your dreams monitored? We can hook you up to our machines, put you under a long sleep, and watch your brain waves. Maybe that will give us a scientific clue about what's going on."

She nodded gratefully. "Now that sounds a whole lot better than Greek gods and demons running loose in my dreams."

V'Aidan sat high above the ocean, perched on a small ledge that barely accommodated his long frame. He'd come to this place as far back as he could remember. Ever since he'd been a young child back at the dawn of time.

It was here he'd come after his ritual beatings that had been designed to strip his feelings and compassion away. Here he'd rested, waiting for the pain of his existence to lessen until he could again find the numbness he was sworn to live by.

Here on his perch he could hear the roar of the waves and stare out at the vastness of the water and feel oddly at peace.

Only now that peace was gone. Shattered.

Something strange had happened to him when he had made love to Erin. It was as if he'd left a piece of himself with her.

Even now, he could sense her. If he closed his eyes, he could even tell what she was feeling.

Worse, he craved her in a way that was all-consuming. He wanted to be with her again, to feel her soothing touch on his skin. He'd never once known such gentleness existed, and now that he did…

"You broke a rule, didn't you?"

He clenched his teeth at Wink's voice above him. Looking up, he met two large inquisitive silver eyes that were fastened on him with interest.

Wink was the last god he wanted to see at the moment. The son of Nyx, the night goddess, and Erebus, the embodiment of primordial darkness, Wink was technically V'Aidan's great-uncle and one of the oldest of the gods; however, he acted more like some prepubescent human. His youthful face was always beaming and bright and he wore his long brown hair braided down his back.

The most annoying thing about Wink was that he loved practical jokes and was forever making fun of the children of Myst.

"I did nothing."

"Oh, come on, 'fess up, V. I heard your siblings talking about you. They said you took a human from them and vanished. Now, give me the dirt."

"Go away."

Wink smiled at that. "Then you did do something. Oooh, and it must be good, for you to be so secretive."

V'Aidan stared at the swirling ocean below. "Don't you have something better to do? Like torment gods who can actually get irritated at you?"

Wink grinned even wider. "Sarcasm. Hmm, someone's been around humans a long time."

V'Aidan didn't respond.

He didn't have to. Wink moved toward his shoulder and sniffed like a puppy with a pair of dirty socks. Wink's eyes widened as he pulled back. "You are irritated at me, aren't you?"

"I can't feel irritation and well you know it."

It didn't work. Wink came around to float by V'Aidan's side, his eyes larger than saucers. He took V'Aidan's chin in his hand and studied his eyes. "I can see emotions in there, swirling, mixing. You're scared."

V'Aidan jerked his chin out of Wink's grasp and pushed him away. "I most certainly am not. I fear nothing. I never have and I never will."

Wink arched a brow. "Such vehement denial. Your kind never feels such passion when they speak, and yet you do."

V'Aidan looked away, his heart pounding. He felt the strangeness of panic in his chest. And he remembered a time once, aeons ago, when he'd been a child and he had dared ask the wrong question.

"Aphrodite, why can't I have love ?"

The goddess had laughed at him. "You are the child of Myst, V'Aidan. She is formless, shapeless. Vacuous. The best you can hope for is to feel fleeting, muted emotions, but love… love is solid, eternal, and beyond your understanding or abilities."

"Then why can I feel such pain?"

"Because it, like you, is a fleeting phantom. Like the great ocean it ebbs and flows, swelling to titanic proportions, then sweeping down into nothingness. It never lasts for long."

Over the centuries, he had learned the goddess was wrong about pain. It, too, was eternal. It never went away.