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Panting, I slide my hands down his muscled back to grab the firm globes of his ass, but before I can reach my destination, Illusion Valerian disappears.
“Hey!” I look at the still-crouching real version of him. “What gives?”
“I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” He pats the place where I was sitting before.
Well, puck.
Getting back on the ground, I take a few calming breaths as I stare at real Valerian’s lips. Would they feel the same as the illusion’s?
“Was that exposure therapy?” I ask, still breathless.
He frowns. “You mean my lack of clothes?”
“I mean you let me kiss you in a safe space in the hopes of making it easier for me to do it in the real world. I do something like that with my clients—when they have fears, that is.”
He smiles. “And how effective is it?”
I dampen my lips. “Very.”
“Good.” His gaze falls to my mouth. “My illusions are one-way only, so I’m dying to taste you again.”
I gulp. On my wrist, Pom’s fur turns a shade of pink corals would be jealous of.
Am I ready to try it in the real world again?
I feel like I am. I really want to. But then again, I also wanted it last time—until the very last moment.
“How about now?” I say before I can talk myself out of it. “We could—”
“No.” His smile holds a note of mischief. “This time, I’m going to wait until you’re good and ready.”
Does he mean “ready to beg for it?” Because I’m nearly there.
“Besides.” His face turns serious. “We do have important Senate business to discuss.”
“Oh, right.” The mention of the dangerous Senate case works like the cold shower I sorely needed.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news on that front.” He uses his power to make the werewolf he was seeking appear in the room with us. “None of my sources have any idea where to find him. You said you had a guy, so I was hoping you could ask him.”
“Puck.” I rub my eyebrow. “I just used him on behalf of Itzel, and I can’t ask him for another favor until I’ve given him the dream—”
“Please.” Valerian’s ocean-blue eyes are so intense I feel like I might drown in them. “It’s important.”
How can I say no to that? Especially after that kiss?
I enable VR to check the time. Napoleon could be sleeping. At least he was at this time of night when I did this for him before.
“Give me a few minutes.” Turning away, I touch Pom’s fur and jump into the dream world.
Again, I catch Pom playing sports. This time, he’s bowling by himself.
“Bailey!” He turns purple from furry head to fluffy toes. “How are you?”
“About to do something you’ll find interesting,” I say, though for the life of me, I can’t understand why. “I’m going into Napoleon’s dreams so he can do his thing.”
Pom takes flight and swirls around me excitedly. “We haven’t done that in forever.”
Because it’s weird and creepy, and again, I have no idea why Pom actually likes it.
“Well, I’m doing it now,” I say. “Ready?”
He nods, so I teleport us both to the tower of sleepers and look for Napoleon.
Yep. He’s there, sleeping like a devil’s baby.
Pom lands on my shoulder as I take the guise of a pirate and, without bothering to make myself invisible, enter Napoleon’s dreams.
As it often happens in his dreams, Napoleon is in his human guise—that of a short man with nice white teeth, a slightly curved nose, deep-set gray-blue eyes, and an air of power that’s difficult to explain.
Also, as is usual, on his head is a bicorne, while his torso is dressed in a white jacket with a blue overcoat. Underneath the jacket is a red sash.
I look around.
We’re on a beach on an island he called Elba the last time I was in his dreams. He must’ve spent a lot of time on a real island like this because I can tell this stroll on the beach is a memory.
“Hey,” I call out when it becomes clear he’s not noticing our presence.
Napoleon’s head whips around, and he stares at me and Pom uncomprehendingly for a few moments. Then his eyes light up, and he grins predatorily. “This is a dream?” He looks around, the grin widening.
“It is.” I make a pink unicorn appear next him, then exchange it for a five-headed cobra. “I need your help, so I figured I’d visit your dreams.”
Napoleon’s eyes light up with avarice. “Six battles. And obviously, money in the awake world.”
“Three.” I ignore Pom’s excited grip on my shoulder—he wants all six. “And a reasonable sum in the waking world.”
“Four.” Napoleon crosses his arms over his chest.
“Fine.” I make the island around us phase out and get ready to replace it with a terrain of his choosing. “Which ones?”
“Hastings, Bosworth, Gettysburg, and Somme,” he rattles out excitedly.
