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I wish he did.
“I exist,” he repeats, “but only to you. You cannot see me when you’re not dreaming. You cannot touch me. But I am there.”
He sounds so earnest that I would feel had—even in my dreams—shutting him down without giving him a chance to talk me into believing that hecouldbe real.
If everything he says is true… “You mean, like a ghost?”
“I was a demon. A Sombran demon. Now… now I am a phantom.” Sammael is quiet for a moment before he nods this time. “A phantom is like a ghost, so yes. When we’re not on the dream-plane, I am a ghost.”
Wouldn’t that just explain everything? Oh, no, Hope. You’re not crazy. You’re just being haunted by a fantasy lover who is a huge fan of pussy and has a pair of demon horns.
Of course. That’s what he just said. He’s a demon—
Wait a minute. I’m not saying I believe this… but he didn’t just say he was a demon. He said he was aSombrademon. And where have I heard that word from lately?
Oh, how about that weird leather-bound book with the pentacle on the front, and the title page calling itself theGrimoire du Sombra? The very same book that has been freakingfollowingme around?
And he’s trying to tell me he’s a ghost?
“Have you been watching me or something?”
“I’ve been protecting you. Helping you.”
“How?”
“I brought you the spellbook,” Sammael says. “You kept bringing it back to the library. I can only touch things that my mate touched or from Sombra, so I made sure to retrieve it for you whenever you did.”
“You did that?” I screech.
He takes a few steps toward me. “It was important. The book. I should’ve told you already, but—”
I couldn’t care less about the book. “Have you seen me naked?”
I don’t think he was expecting such a quick change of subject, but he answers me right away all the same. “Yes.”
I scramble away from him, grasping for my blanket. Sure, I didn’t mind him watching menow, but if he’s been peeking at me for a while before, that’s not cool. That’s not cool at all.
The monster—demon—ghost…whateverfrowns. “I pointed out that you were uncovered, my mate. You were the one who said they were just tits.”
First ‘cunt’, now ‘tits’ instead of the way he called them ‘breasts’ before… if he doesn’t stop talking like that, I might forget that I’m upset and let him look all he wants some more.
Wait a second—
“Do you mean, like, now?” I wave my hand up and down at my body. “Is this the first time you saw me like this?”
His expression turns so hurt, he makes me think of a puppy who’s just gotten kicked. “I would never take what you did not freely offer. No matter how long I had to wait, I would earn my first glimpse of your beauty.”
Wow. Now I feel bad for assuming he was some kind of demon perv. Even so, that still doesn’t mean he should get a pass forhauntingme for… for…
Well, I don’t know how long, but I should probably find out.
“Let me ask you something. You’ve been watching me—”
“Protecting you,” he repeats.
Sure. “For how long? How long have you been doing this?”
I’d like to say that last night’s dream was the first time I ever saw a creature like him in my imagination… but it wasn’t. Just like I’ve been dealing with this strange feeling that someone was behind me, calling my name, calling me to them even before that weird book showed up at the library.
