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Jeremy noticed her quirk. “I wash my hands often, you know,” he said in a cheery tone.
Charlotte knew better. “Sorry.”
“She doesn’t like to be touched,” Daniel explained. “You’ll have to excuse her.”
“Phobia of germs?” Jeremy asked.
“No,” Daniel laughed. “She’s a Dream Eater.”
There had been no discussion of what she really was at the dinner table. Jeremy’s girlfriend was human, she sensed. And so was the vice president, Bennet, and his wife.
“Dream eater?” Jeremy’s girlfriend chirped. “What’s that?”
“She’s sensitive,” said Daniel. “Like psychic.”
“Oh yeah? You have to give me a reading sometimes,” Sandy said. “I’m into Tarot and stuff.”
Charlotte forced herself to smile wide. “Maybe next time.”
The only person who didn’t laugh was Jeremy. There was semi-terror in his eyes when he found out that she wasn’t an ordinary person as he’d perceived.
Charlotte pretended she didn’t notice, but she felt a chill creep up her neck as they said goodbye for the night and headed into their own room.
Jeremy’s eyes were unsettling to her nerves.
They were murderous.
Chapter Seven
Charlotte avoided Jeremy whenever she could after that encounter. It was hard to do. Jeremy had a knack for ambushing her when sh
e least expected it. She didn’t breathe a word about what she saw in Jeremy to Daniel. She wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it to Daniel without sounding like a tattletale. Moreover, she was an outsider. She’d met Daniel less than two weeks ago. Daniel and Jeremy had been brothers since forever.
Curiously, Jeremy seemed intrigued by her ability. Last evening, he’d deliberately trapped her in the elevator as she was going down for dinner.
“I’d like to have a word with you, and it’s a secret.”
Jeremy’s visibly forced smile didn’t make her feel any better. She was alarmed. “Yes?”
“If I touch you, would you be able to tell my future?” Jeremy edged closer.
“Please don’t do that.” Charlotte shrank into a corner.
“Why not? I bet my brother did more than touch.”
“He’s different.”
“Different how?” Jeremy pressed.
“I like him.”
“And you don’t like me?”
She regretted her choice of words. “I don’t like to be touched by strangers. Look, I can’t tell fortunes, okay? If I could, I’d have won the lottery by now.”
“You sell yourself short, Dream Eater. Do you realize how rare you are? Shifters like us are plenty, but there’s only one Dream Lord reigning at one time, and I heard they live a very long life. Almost immortal. And for them to have a half-breed child who walks in both planes—our world and the dreamscape—that’s the rarest of the rare.”
“You’re making too big of a deal out of it. I’m not that special.”
