Luca adjusts the worn baseball cap on his head, glances between the two of us, and sighs. “I really am a test subject.”
“We won’t hurt you,” I assure him.
“We don’t even know if it will work,” Alistair adds, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
Luca sighs again and drops onto the couch. “Have at it then.” He glances at his phone. “I’ve got to head to the club in two hours.”
“First, we should establish a baseline,” Alistair says.
I mutter a halfhearted agreement. Of course, he wants to make it more boring.
Crouching gracefully in front of the couch, Ali’s arms graze the inside of Luca’s spread legs as he catches his eye. “Lay back,” he whispers.
Luca’s stare goes unfocused, and he sinks deeper into the couch. His entire body relaxes. And the contrast... Hovering over Luca, Alistair is coiled to strike—lean muscles bunched, his eyes red and searching.
Compulsion should be creepy, so why am I hard? I squirm, trying to subtly adjust myself without drawing attention.
Alistair blinks twice, and Luca jolts upright. His cheeks are flushed; the silver hoop is caught helplessly between his teeth. “Do you want me to try to keep you out?”
“Not yet,” I say. “We should start easy and work our way up.”
Luca nods. His pupils are blown, with only a sliver of hazel visible.
My stomach flips. This is the opposite of boring, and I’m more excited to show him my magic than I want to admit. That dazed expression on his face... the streaks of pink on his tan cheeks... I want to be the one putting them there.
I rack my brain for what to show him. He’s a basilisk, so maybe a jungle? That’s not an easy nightmare to pull off, but I want to impress him.
I close my eyes and take myself there.
Waxy leaves dripping dew, the spongy give of a forest floor covered in layers of decomposing plant matter, and the sensation that everything—from the lichen to the air itself—has a pulse.
Once my skin pebbles, I lock in and get to work.
First, I create a thick canopy of towering trees, snaked with vines, connected to the ground by fat, sturdy trunks. Wispy ferns. Mushrooms that look suspiciously like puddles of vomit. A flower—fire engine red—bigger and brighter than all the others. Creeping moss becomes a racetrack for two rival slugs caught in an epic grudge match.
I polish the vibe by peppering in a loud argument between two catty birds and a cunty chimpanzee—he threw a rock at the birds’ nest, and everyone’s sick of his shit—then sculpt a green-striped hammock to drop Luca in.
Chest heaving, I spritz the entire nightmare with wet and nod. It’ll do.I pull back and search for Luca’s mind. I find it right in front of me, active, alert, and pulsing with energy.
I drape the nightmare over his consciousness like a heavy linen tablecloth. His mind quivers with the tiniest shiver of resistance, and I tighten my magic, smoothing any visible wrinkles before he spots them.
Luca gasps, and I pull my focus out of the nightmare enough to watch him experience it. His hazel eyes are wide, his head on a swivel.
“Holy shit,” he murmurs, his fingers grazing the bark of the tree I attached his hammock to. “It feels real.”
I hold my head high and let his reaction soothe my ego. The past few weeks have been hell on my self-esteem. This is exactly what I needed.
“What are you showing him?” Alistair demands.
Instead of answering, I reach for his mind to pull him in and face my first resistance. If Luca’s head is a beating heart, Alistair’s is a blinding light. Trying to cover it feels impossible; light keeps getting through. I grit my teeth and push more magic into the nightmare until it’s less tablecloth and more padded moving blanket.
When I successfully pull him in, Alistair goes completely still.
“This isn’t a nightmare,” he says.
I roll my eyes, more pissed than I should be by his reaction. “Not all nightmares are scary but if that’s what you want...”
I split the illusion down the middle, leaving Luca to recline in a tropical paradise while I give Alistair’s cranky ass what he’s asking for. The vines around him morph into snakes. Green, mottled with yellow, I give one red bands—the exact color of his vamped-out eyes.
