Page 26 of Sweet Dreams

“I want you to find out everything you know about the ETA. There’s got to be a reason they came here,” his words are garbled, difficult to understand as he shook his head slowly, “especially, after all this time.”

“After all this time? What?”

“Nothing,” Grandfather snapped, then his posture softened and he turned slowly to face me. “I’m sorry, Lu. I’m getting grumpy in my old age.”

I narrowed my eyes on him. We’d been at this for hours. First, last night after I got home from my date and now, since the crack of dawn, when Grandfather had all but dragged me into the kitchen for a ‘quick conversation’. Quick conversation my ass. He wasn’t making a bit of sense and had been talking in circles so long that my coffee had to be ice cold by now. I pressed my hand against the mug, frowning the instant I felt the cool temperature.

“You really don’t think they just came here for business? I met with them and the business is sound. Everything I looked up last night was right in line,” I stood, moving to press a hand against Grandfather’s forearm. “Maybe they are exactly what they seem.”

To my surprise, Grandfather ripped his arm away, a dark hiss of anger escaping as he growled, “Nothing is as it seems.”

I stared in shock, my feet rooted to the floor as he turned away and stormed to the back door. A moment later the door slammed in the frame, jolting me from my state.

“What the fuck?” I said aloud, staring at the door, half-expecting my grandfather to come walking back in. He would apologize for lashing out and then pour me another cup while we laughed off the awkwardness of the whole thing.

But, nothing happened.

He wasn’t coming back to apologize.

A lump settled in my throat, making it hard to focus as I quickly set my dishes in the sink, poured out my horrible coffee and went to the door. I didn’t realize until I was in the driveway that Grandfather would have the car.

Moaning, my head tilted back and I began to head back inside. Passing by a pile of landscaping rock Gigi had delivered yesterday, a flash of something bright white caught my eye. I twisted, not watching where I stepped, and a moment later I became a victim to gravity, my elbow crashing into the concrete a moment before my head hit a landscaping stone.

And everything went dark.

I sat up with a gasp, my hand flying instinctively to my head. But, there was no bump, not even a hint of blood from the impact that I’d predicted as I tripped.

But then, I wasn’t at my grandparents’ house anymore either. This was somewhere familiar. I squinted, the room was dimmed with cool grey lighting coming in through cheap white blinds over the single window.

But, there were two beds.

I stared, looking down at the colorful blanket under me.

Oh my gosh, I was back in my college dorm. I slapped my hands against the bedding, preparing to throw myself off the bed. “Oh my God, I cannot be dead. I cannot be dead. This is the worst idea of heaven I’ve ever seen…” I knew the words were falling fast and wild from my lips, but I couldn't tell. I was across the room, yanking hard on the door to the hallway of the dorm.

“You can’t go out there.”

I shrieked, leaping up and banging my knees against the door as I turned fast to stare at the male who stood in the shadows at the other end of the room. He was tall for a man, but then, I could see the curl of dark horns rising above his head.

Not a man at all.

Something in the back of my mind moved, shifted. A memory coming to life, rising through muddled thoughts as if it were a wave slowly settling.

“You,” I said, my body still plastered against the door. “I know you. Or I did.” Because I had dreamed about this male before. Or some version of him. First, the dreams had been packed with tension and way too many romantic implications. But, over time, my dreams had turned more studious. As if this kind-voiced male was sent by my brain to help me study and sort out my life during my dreaming hours.

I’d grown attached to those dreams; accustomed to seeing that familiar ruby-toned male who appeared whenever I needed him. I frowned. I couldn’t remember the last item I’d dreamed of him. I must’ve really whacked my head.

His head moved, his voice was soft, dark, familiar. “Both, perhaps.”

There was a darkness in his words. Fear tingles down my spine. He sounded upset. He sounded worried, which instantly triggered my own anxiety.

“What does that mean?” I pressed a hand against, “Oh my God, was I right? Am I dead?”

He chuckled, the sound coaxing me from my hiding place, “No, Lulu, you aren’t dead. I’m not sure what happened. I haven’t been pulled into your dreams in some time.”

I was listening to him but couldn’t stop looking around. I noted the bulletin board, complete with my next semester’s class list. And in the corner, my old laptop whirled loudly from the top of my desk.

“This is a dream? You’re sure?”