Chapter Three #2
Lord Arafel, the King of the Dream realm and regent over the incubi and succubi people of the Underworld, had not sent me here to Salus Glen.
Did my brother know that? Nope. I had been sent into the living world plenty of times on the demon’s bequest, but this time, the night I had first seen Lulu, I had just appeared at the edge of Salus Glen.
I wasn’t sure how to even begin that conversation. The night it had happened, I’d ran to Traum and Bailey’s house, blurting out that not only did I see a human woman whose dreams I’d been featured in, but that she’d seen me too.
The rest of that night had been a blur of Traum questioning me, then Bailey waking up after hearing us in the living room and setting me up on the couch in said living room of their new home here in Salus.
I’d spent the entire night waiting for Arafel to either appear and drag me back where I belonged, or Lucifer himself to smite me from my position on the sectional.
But, neither happened.
And now, weeks later, I was simply existing here. The terror had worn off quickly, curiosity taking its place in a matter of days.
Because she’d seen me, hells, I’d basically tackled her, yet my human glamour only showed her exactly what would be normal for the living world. But, if she’d seen the real me, would she have recognized me from before? Would she have been happy to see me?
After all, it had been years since the last time she’d called me to her. And long before I had realized what exactly she meant to me.
Three years ago
I hated this part. Which basically meant that against all odds, my family had produced an incubus who hated dream walking.
It was strange, the swell of knowledge that inundated you once you stepped into a dreamer’s mind.
And even more abrasive were the thoughts that would nearly immediately swing towards sexuality and various fantasies.
That was on me. Just being in their dreams caused that shift.
But, unlike my family and my brethren, it made me ridiculously uncomfortable.
Perhaps that’s why I’d been spending more and more time away from home and the pressure to produce power from these fantasy induced hallucinations.
Because I hated pulling the power from these sleeping souls.
I hated the way that it felt like I was stealing something from them. It didn’t matter to my brain that incubi and succubi had been doing this for generations.
I knew that my older brothers were aware. But Albtraum ignored it, most likely hoping that I’d grow out of it and join the family business.
Traum, Al’s twin, was always more accepting of my oddities. And, while the twins were already primed to take the lead roles in our family, I knew that my grandmother was still looking for me to perform for the village.
Albtraum would become chief next, after Grandmother. And Traum was the best out of all of us, his power levels consistently high. The village already counted on him. I didn’t want to be someone who had to lean on the excess powers that the most powerful of us donated back to the village.
That should go to the elderly or the younglings that need it most.
Not me, a fully mature incubi who was more than capable of contributing.
Which was probably why I was here, curling up in my too-small bed, waiting for the magic that tied me to the living world to whisk me away into someone’s dreams.
I would feed their fantasy, then feed from them.
No complaining. Not this time. My eyes closed, my breathing slowing even as my heart continued to race.
It wasn’t long before it washed over me like a wave, the undertow pulling me into a dream.
Opening my eyes, I stared around the room.
It was crowded, full of boxes and more than a few pieces of laundry were strewn about the space. Not a dirty space, just messy.
And it smelled wonderful, as if the air itself was sweeter here.
I glanced around, knowing that I would appear to my victim...
or rather my dreamer in whatever form they would be most open to.
At first I didn’t see her, curled up at a small desk against the wall.
Her head was on her arms, leaving just a mess of dark hair piled onto her head.
Asleep. Still waiting for my magic to come over her. I moved closer, clearing my mind as I’d been taught. And then, just as I stood behind her chair, I called to her. Asked her, in a way, to join the fantasy.
I jolted when my mind connected to hers. The fantasy was not sexual at all. In fact, it was simply packed full of worries and fears. Her own body so coiled in anxiety that, for a moment, I wished I could simply reach out and rub a hand down the twisted muscles of her spine.
I didn’t know where to go from here.
But, the magic didn’t pull me from the dream. And, distantly, there was a soothing trickle of power down my mind. This was still working. I was still drawing power from her, even if it felt different than others. As if just her presence was feeding my power.
Her breath suddenly whooshed out and she lurched backwards, nearly toppling out of her chair.
“Oh my God, who are you?”