Chapter 15
“Riot’s been talking,” a musical voice sang cheerfully from somewhere behind me. “You’ve never invited me into your dream scene before.”
Oh. Well, that explained why we were in my apartment. I was sitting on my navy blue couch, the voice coming from the doorway to my bedroom behind me.
I glanced down, surprised by my outfit. I never wore jeans—Mother hated them—let alone tight jeans like this with rips that exposed my thighs.
And my top! I tugged it down self-consciously, shocked to see it even on my body.
It was a sweater that was the shade of bubblegum, which Mother would hate, and cropped— cropped ! —exposing the high waist of the jeans.
If I invited him here, had I picked this outfit as well?
Focus, Grace. You invited him to your dream. That is the more pressing concern here.
“If it’s my dream, why can’t I see you?” I asked, craning my neck.
“Because I am all powerful,” the voice said in a low, dramatic tone, suddenly right next to my ear, and I jumped in surprise. “Would you like to see me, Amazing Grace?”
“Yes,” I said instantly, hesitating for a moment before I continued. “Please, Bullet.”
He appeared out of thin air, sitting next to me on the couch, not looking surprised in the least that I knew his name.
Oh my.
I’d thought Riot was exactly my type, but I guess I had more than one type because Bullet was definitely stirring up those same fluttery feelings in my tummy, even though he and Riot looked nothing alike.
Well, except for the tattoos. And the eyes, but Bullet’s were far more purple than Riot’s were, with just the thinnest line of red at the edges of his irises.
His hair was a pale blonde and probably chin length, but he wore it messily pushed back in a way that made him look like a rockstar, even though he was dressed like he’d just walked off a fashion shoot.
His dark navy shirt had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing detailed black ink all over his forearms, and he was wearing dark gray slacks and suspenders of all things.
He made the whole ensemble all seem so effortlessly cool, but he sort of looked like a model which helped—all angular features and lean muscles.
I’d intended to ask him if he was my soul bond, but there was no denying that fact once I’d laid eyes on him.
My heartbeat had picked up, my mouth was dry, butterflies were aggressively attacking each other in my belly…
It was a ghost of the reaction I’d had to Riot, but this wasn’t actually real life.
Bullet’s mouth, which seemed permanently curved into an amused smirk, twitched as he noted my thorough perusal of him and I glanced away, embarrassed that I’d been so blatantly checking him out.
I might not be able to remember this, but he would.
“Don’t be shy, Grace. You can look at me all you like,” he said confidently, reaching over to gently grip my chin with long, elegant fingers and guided my eyes back to his face. I sucked in a breath at the contact, surprised to see he looked just as affected by it as I was.
“Have I seen you before?” I asked, missing his touch instantly when his hand dropped away. I sort of wanted to snuggle him, but it seemed disloyal to Riot when he wasn’t here.
“Oh yes,” Bullet replied, still smiling though his eyes looked a little sad. “Almost every night of your life, actually.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, horrified at what that must feel like for him. I couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt if Riot forgot me even once, let alone every night for years.
“Don’t be,” Bullet replied sharply before his mask of happiness slid back into place. “We’ve had thousands of first meetings, and I don’t regret a single one of them.”
“Don’t you want me to remember you?” I asked, my throat thick with emotion.
“More than anything,” he said simply. “It will happen. Sooner than you think.”
I hesitated, wanting to tell him I wasn’t sure I was ready for all that meant, but it kind of sounded like he already knew that.
“All powerful, remember?” Bullet teased, answering my unasked question as he tapped the side of his head, and I snorted before I could contain the unladylike sound. “Ask me anything,” he commanded, sitting back with a smug grin.
“Okay then, all powerful one. I was thinking of visiting the library above the temple in Auburn before the memorial to find out more about the history of outreach trips and look for a loophole. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Bullet smiled brightly and I got the impression he was excited that I’d asked for his advice. What was I usually like in these dreams? Probably less relaxed, if I thought he was a complete stranger every time.
A stab of pain shot through my chest at the thought and I tried to imagine how I would feel in his shoes. It was an acute kind of agony to think of someone meaning so much to me, and me being nothing to them.
“You should go tomorrow,” Bullet replied confidently. “You’ll discover more questions than answers, but that’s not a bad thing. You need to know the questions to ask to find the answers you need.”
“You’re very wise.” I blinked at him, startled by the thoughtful words coming from such a seemingly playful, mischievous person.
“I make it my job to be wise when it comes to you, Amazing Grace.” Bullet glanced at the walls as they seemed to ripple suddenly like waves. “It looks like our time is up,” he sighed, shooting me an apologetic smile.
“What? Why?” I wasn’t ready to go yet.
“Your alarm is going off, of course.” He stood, grinning at me before sweeping into a dramatic bow. “It was a pleasure meeting you, my lady.”
“Again,” I supplied, my voice already sounding strange and distant. Bullet vanished from in front of me, his final two words bouncing around the room like a distant echo.
“Every time.”
I woke up with wet cheeks and an ache in my chest, quickly silencing my alarm before it woke Riot.
I desperately searched my mind, trying to force the details of the dream to appear, but as usual there was nothing but a feeling where I felt like the details should be.
A sense of resolve, but a layer of sorrow as well.
Was it my sorrow or his?
I pushed the blankets back slowly, but Riot’s arm snaked around my waist, tugging me backwards before I could sneak out of bed.
“Come back to bed,” he mumbled into the pillow. “You’re warm, and I want to make you come before you leave.”
Sugar.
“That is a very hard offer to turn down,” I squeaked, forcing down the guilt that came with the idea.
I turned slightly to face him, running my hand through his messy hair and memorizing his features.
I didn’t want to leave any earlier than I had to and spend the day away from him again, but I couldn’t help feeling like that sense of resolve I’d woken up with was related to my research plans for the day.
“Don’t turn it down then,” he yawned, cracking one eye open to look up at me. It seemed crazy to think of this muscle bound tattooed man as cute , but that was definitely how he looked first thing in the morning. Cute and cuddly and all mine.
“I’m going to the library,” I said gently, lifting his arm up so I could wriggle away. “I have a feeling about it.”
“Bullet’s already cockblocking me and he’s not even here,” Riot muttered, and this time I couldn’t help my giggle.
“You sure about today, Gracie?” he asked, sitting up and leaning back against the pillows.
I really should ask if he’d be comfortable sleeping without a shirt on, it seemed a crime to cover up that body.
“I can’t not go,” I said, crossing the room to my closet.
My one black dress was already in a garment bag, ready to go for when I got ready at my parents’ house, and I picked out a more casual, agathos-appropriate gray sweater and white skirt combination to wear to the library.
“The whole community will turn out for the memorial, and it would raise a lot of questions if I wasn’t there.
Plus, the Elders might move the outreach thing forward if they think I’m not cooperating. ”
I paused with my hand on the coat hanger, tilting my head to the side. “Actually, my parents would probably try to have it moved up.”
Riot made a disgruntled noise behind me, and I laid my garments over my forearm before moving around to his side of the bed to kiss his cheek. “I’ll be back this afternoon. Early evening at the latest.”
He grabbed my waist before I could pull away and I squealed as he tugged me onto the bed, capturing my mouth with his and giving me a proper kiss that had me incredibly conscious of my morning breath.
“Be careful, Gracie. Come back to me, okay?” he asked, pressing his forehead against mine, his concern brushing insistently at my skin.
“Always,” I promised.
* * *
The temple in Auburn didn’t look like a temple to outsiders.
Specifically to humans. It was labelled as the town hall, and it was a three-storey red brick and white plaster behemoth that stood pride of place in central Auburn.
A row of ionic columns along the front was the only external nod to the ancient rites that took place in the basement of the building.
There were no humans that worked for the city of Auburn—it was and always had been an agathos settlement—but the altar was thoroughly hidden just in case, accessible only with agathos blood.
I visited this place constantly growing up. Aside from Chance, one of my fathers working here as a town planner, this was where the weekly classes took place for teen agathos every Saturday morning for three hours.
My boots echoed on the black and white tiled floor of the foyer, giving me flashbacks of the cramped first floor classroom on a hot Saturday morning, memorizing the tenets of our role for the Anesidora while staring longingly out the window where the younger kids were allowed to play on the grass.