Page 31 of Bewitching Her Monsters
10
WAKING DREAMS
JADE
Last night was one of my more intenseepisodes.
Episodes… such a light and fluffy word for feeling like someone or something is invading my mind. Sure, I often dream what feels like another person’s dream. Heck, I’ve used some of it in my stories.
But these episodes are more than the unusual dream of places and people I’ve never seen before. I’ve had odd dreams my whole life. But the intense episodes started almost two decades ago when I turned twenty-one.
The severity of the nightmares has made me wonder if I should be on medication for what feels like a paranoid delusion.
I rarely remember what happens to me and why I ended up somewhere odd… in this case, my closet. Another time, I ended up in my backyard. Once, I even woke up while walking down the sidewalk.
One day, I expect it’s going to get me hurt or killed. I’ll set my house on fire or I’ll wander into traffic, and bam.
This time, though, I remember more than I usually do.
In this dream, I watched as a woman threw a curse at me, or more accurately, the person I was supposed to be. Then the woman poisoned me with powder and terror hit me when I recognized what it was: ground-up iron. For some reason, I was afraid of the iron. Thinking about it now, I had read that fae are supposed to be allergic to the stuff. Myths and legends. I wonder why I’m dreaming of fantasy beings. Especially since this vision felt all too real.
Then I recall another strange part of my vision.
“You want to hear something odd, Beast?” I ask as I chop up some more meat for the huge lug.
Beast is finally warming up to me after my episode. It’s sweet that he was trying to comfort me when I was scared. Animals can be wonderful that way.
At my question, he stares up with his strange golden eyes that sometimes seem to glow, waiting for me to continue.
“Last night, I must have been really desperate for some hunky snacks. I thought you were one of the guys from the bar… He was holding me—shirtless, no less.” I shake my head, amused. “But fortunately, I realized it was you right away.”
Beast seems to visibly gulp. I swear this dog isn’t normal. Maybe he does have a human soul.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. I know better.” I wave off the projected concern I’ve assigned to the poor animal. “It’s just… I felt so at peace in his arms, like I belonged with him. And not just because he’s hot, I mean, it definitely doesn’t hurt. Anyway, I wonder if that’s what genuine love will feel like. The feeling like I’ve found my true home. Safe. Cherished.” I sigh dramatically, brushing away the few tears. “Oh, well, of course when I woke up it was just you, a dog. And even you will probably leave soon, out of my life in a day or so.”
After I fill his bowl, he stares at me for a long beat, watching me. Perhaps he senses my sadness. But finally, he eats.
I show him out the backdoor so he can enjoy the pleasant weather. “I’ll be writing for a few hours. But if you need anything, be sure to bark.”
He bumps my hand, and I pat his head softly. My heart warms with his acceptance of me. Like I’ve won the skittish doggy lotto.
“Maybe if you let me put a leash on you, we can go for a walk later.” The uncomfortable memory of someone watching crashes back over me. It can’t be Rob again, could it? “Or maybe no walking. Maxum or whoever might still be lurking. I won’t risk you getting hurt, too.”
After letting him out, I settle into my office and begin to write.
The story pours out. It’s a continuation of the one I started about the guys. There are some baddies who want to kill supernatural beings. And my harem are trying to stop them.
Witches show up in the story.
I often write about witches and warlocks. They can be morally gray at worst, but now, some witches in my story are downright evil.
Not to say that shifters and other magical people aren’t also jerks.
In my mind, I see that there’s a war on the horizon. It’s over magic, and who should wield it. Neither sides trusts the other. Both sides have legitimate reasons for their hatred and blame the other faction for the loss of magic. But my gut tells me the loss isn’t about either side. Something cosmically is afoot.
Leaning back and stretching, I take a breather from writing… and let my fingers rest. Checking my email, my blood runs cold, and my heart rate picks up.
Rob emailed me.
