Page 1 of Bound

Chapter One

Meg

Once upon a time, in a land closer thanyou would think…

I’m having the weirdest dream. I try to takein the scene around me. I call it a scene because this isn’t real. This can’tbe real. I wasn’t taken by some guy—demon—and transported to…

I’m in some sort of luxurious tent. There’s lush carpet onthe floor, but on the outer edges of the space I see grass and patches of loamyearth. Odd lanterns illuminate the space. I call them odd because there doesn’tseem to be a flame. The light is strong, but it’s almost like it’s movinginside the opaque glass.

Like fireflies flickering.

“Are you okay?”

I turn to the sound of a feminine voice, looking through themetal bars of the cage I find myself in. Bile rises. Cage. I’m in a cage. Whatis my fucked up brain trying to tell me? I mean, honestly the cage totallymakes sense. I’m feeling trapped by work and the place in life I find myself,so I understand the setting of this dream. The gorgeous, slender blonde chickin the cage across from me I don’t understand at all.

“I get the cage,” I explain to the blonde. She’s naked, butthen everyone in the cages are naked, including myself. “I even get the nudity.I’ve got a meeting with my regional manager next week, and I’m not ready forit. Nudity is a sure sign of anxiety. The cage is because I hate my job and mylife, and I can’t seem to find a way out. Hence the luxury of the cage, thoughI think my subconscious is wrong about that. I mean my paycheck is good enoughto keep a roof over my head, but nothing like this.”

The bed I’d “woken” on is the most comfortable I’ve everbeen on. The silk sheets are soft and lush. It’s why I thought at first thiswas going to be some sort of erotic dream, or maybe I’m so tired my dream isbeing kept in a cage like a beloved pet. I might need therapy because at firstI was cool with all of it. Some short chick had brought me lunch, and it wasdelicious. It was when I requested coffee and the small serving lady asked mewhat coffee was that I realized I was dreaming.

And it might be a nightmare.

I can still see his face. It had been too long, tooskeletal. Something inside me had known. Something had feared that thing in thealley.

The blonde’s head turns as though seeing me from a differentangle might help her understand. “You speak too fast. I understand some of yourplane’s words, but not all. I am fresh from the old plane.”

Yeah, a gorgeous blonde who doesn’t speak my language andflies on old planes. I have no idea how to interpret that one.

A withered hand reached out to me and when that handtouched my arm, the world had gone cold.

What a find you are, my dear. I think I know just whereto take you.

I shake my head, forcing the vision back. That had been adream, too. A prelude to whatever this nighttime vision is supposed to teachme. It hits me suddenly what all of this is about. I decided a few weeks agoI’m going to take a step that could change my life.

“I’m going to a munch,” I explain to the only woman in thetent who seems interested in me. “That’s a safe way to meet people in thelifestyle. I’m going to see if this is for me, and no anxiety dream is going tomake me change my mind. That’s why you’re here. You’re the inner symbol of myinsecurity. I’m fairly certain I’ll be the worst-looking potential sub at thatmunch. Yeah, that’s what this is about.”

The woman merely shakes her head and turns to the equallystunning woman in the cage next to hers. They begin a conversation in alanguage I don’t understand, and I sit back. Even in my dreams I’m easy toignore.

I take a deep breath and tell myself I’ll forget all of thiswhen I wake up in my own bed, tangled in crappy scratchy sheets. This will be ablur in the early morning light, an echo of some dream life.

“Miss Meg, I need you to come with me. I know our ways seemstrange to you, but one day you’ll see what a great honor all of this is.” Thesmall woman who’d greeted me with pastries and claims she doesn’t know whatcoffee is stands at the door of the cage. She’s dressed like she’sparticipating in a Renaissance fair. And she’s seriously tiny. Like thesmallest human I’ve ever seen who wasn’t a kid. She’s absolutely a full-assadult with the body of a woman, but she’s maybe four feet tall. Maybe.

I stand, pulling the sheet around me because while theSwedish supermodels might be cool showing the world what their mommas gavethem, I am not. I tuck the sheet under my shoulders, forming something of adress. “I’m sure being put in a cage is a great honor.”

Cara—she’d called herself Cara—holds a circle of keys in hersmall hand. “You’ll be saving a life and maybe a whole kingdom if you are whatwe think you are. Please come with me. Miss, if you try to run, you shouldunderstand that there is nowhere to go.”

Cara enunciates each word carefully, as though she has tothink about each one.

“Well, naturally there’s nowhere to go. I think that’s whatthis whole dream thing is about.” I move to the door of the cage as Cara opensit.

I don’t even think about running because all that will do ismorph the dream into something terrible. All my anxieties will likely chaseafter me and honestly, the running is part of a nightmare, too.

I think back to all my psych classes. Shouldn’t I try totake control of the dream? Try to wake myself up? If I take charge, I’ll likelyfind my way out sooner.

My gut rolls as I see that thing again in my head, the onewho wrapped spindly fingers around my wrist and pulled me close, and I swear Icould smell sulphur on it. I shove the image down. It’s not memory. It’s got tobe something else.

Had I been drinking? Or maybe someone spiked my drink.

Except I hadn’t been out partying. I’d been walking homefrom a movie.