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Either it wasn’t a fan of her moves, or her flailing had shaken it free, but the bug flew off and sailed straight into the hell gate.
The mist moved faster and emitted a loud burp before returning to its languid swirling.
Eddie’s arm throbbed in time to her heartbeat as she checked the dials on her app again. All dials safely in the green and homicidal grasshopper back with his psycho friends.
With a quick sweep of the ash, Eddie trudged back up the stairs to the theatre. She had auditions to finish.
Chapter
Three
Dream lover—she wished—paid Eddie another visit that night. Caramel-and corn-streaked hair blew over the sweat-sheened angular planes of his face. His icy gaze narrowed in concentration on something she couldn’t see.
And was that blood?
Dried, rusty stains crusted one nostril and stroked over the chiseled planes of his chest. Grunting, he swung a massive axe.
Eddie felt the reverberation through her own muscles as the axe struck an invisible target. Her arm jarred with the initial impact, juddered as the axe met resistance, followed by the release as the axe completed its arc.
Vermillion sprayed from the edges of the double headed blade and spattered warm and sticky against his face.
That was definitely blood.
Gross! And she recoiled, her sensations separating from him.
Now she stood to the side, and she could see the mass of tangled, roiling bodies. Blades flashing, guttural cries of pain, harsh grunts, the stench of blood and fire. Dream lover—she wished—stood in the center of a war zone. Only like a historical war zone with weapons that looked familiar but also different.
A hulking beast leapt in front of dream lover—she wished—and opened its mouth and roared. Five-inch canines dripped globs of saliva down its oxlike face. Its eyes glowed black and red, and light gleamed off the silver-tipped edges of its horns. Swollen, exaggerated muscles bunched beneath its russet skin as it raised a huge war hammer.
Eddie wanted to shout a warning to dream lover—still wishing.
“Shade!” Oxman roared.
Shade. His name was Shade. It clicked into place perfectly with his sensual beauty.
In her dream, she whispered his name. “Shade.”
He turned, that glacial stare locked on her. “You.”
“Watch out,” Eddie screamed, but her voice didn’t meet the movements of her mouth, and nothing came out.
Whirling, Shade swung his axe. His biceps swelled as he cleaved Oxman’s ugly head from his grotesque body. Unlike before, this dream made blood lust pound in her pulses. She wanted to fight something. Kill.
The battle receded into a blurry mist around Shade. Shadows danced through the mist, but the sounds muted as Shade turned and looked at her again. His beautifully sculpted mouth, almost feminine in its lush hedonism, parted, and he whispered that word again, “You.”
His voice was deep and resonant, and it rolled like a coming thunderstorm over her senses and tugged at something visceral in her core. “What have you done?”
Eddie jerked awake. Her heart pounded and sweat slicked her skin as she blinked the familiar details of her bedroom into focus.
Chest of drawers opposite her bed, large window beside it showing a pearly predawn sky, shadowed doorway to her attached bathroom.
Like the other dreams about him, this one had been disturbingly real and intense. Only given a choice, she’d go back to the less martial dreams she’d had before. In those, she’d found herself popping in on him like a phantom peeping Tom.
Shade.
She kicked the tangled sheets away from her legs. The springs of her cast-iron bed frame creaked in protest as she wrestled her limbs free.
He’d spoken to her, his gaze accusing, his voice as clear as if he’d whispered those words in her ear. “What have you done?”
