Pleasures of the Night(3)
Author: Sylvia Day

His brow arched as he suddenly felt as if he were the one who was mentally disturbed and not the other way around.

"Bye, whoever you are. Nice talking to you." Her voice grew distant, and he knew he was losing her.

"Aidan," he yelled.

"Oh." There was a pregnant pause. "I like that name."

"Good. I guess." He frowned, not sure what to do next. "Can I come in?"

The door swung open with torturous leisure, the hinges screeching and soft puffs of rust exploding from the cracks. He stared for a moment, startled at how easy it was to gain entry when he had been warned the task would be next to impossible. Then he was struck by the interior. Inside was just as pitch black as the outside. He’d never seen anything like it.

Stepping carefully into her "dream," he asked, "Why don’t you turn the lights on?"

"You know," she said dryly, "I’ve been trying to do that for years."

Her voice floated across the darkness like a warm spring breeze. He searched through her memories and found nothing unusual. Lyssa Bates was an ordinary woman who lived an ordinary life. There was nothing in her past or present that could explain this emptiness.

The door behind him stood open. He could withdraw. Send for a Nurturer. Be grateful for the easiest assignment he’d had in a long, long time. Instead, he stayed, intrigued by the first flash of genuine interest in a Dreamer he had felt in many centuries.

"Well…" He scrubbed a hand along his jaw. "Try thinking of someplace you’d like to go and take us there."

"Close the door, please." He heard her padding away.

Aidan considered the wisdom of shutting himself inside here with her. "Can’t we leave it open?"

"No. They’ll come in if you don’t shut it."

"Who’ll come in?"

"The Shadows."

Aidan stood silently, absorbing the fact that she recognized the Nightmares as separate entities. "I can kill them for you," he offered.

"I abhor violence, if you must know."

"Yeah, I knew that. That’s one of the reasons you became a vet."

She snorted. "Now I remember why I kicked you guys out. You pry too much."

Turning to shut the door, Aidan said, "You let me in quickly enough."

"I like your voice. Is that a brogue? Where are you from?"

"Where do you want me to be from?"

"Whatever." The footsteps padded farther away. "Show yourself out. I’m not talking to you anymore."

Aidan laughed softly and admired her spirit. She wasn’t cowed, despite how miserable it must be to be alone in the dark, "You know what your problem is, Lyssa Bates?"

"You and your friends bugging me?"

"You don’t know how to dream. All the endless possibilities of your mind—all the places you can go, the things you can do, the people you can be with—and you’re not indulging in any of it."

"You think I like sitting here in the dark? I would love to be on a Caribbean beach right now, rolling around in the sand with a hot guy."

The door shut with a tremendous booming sound, and he heaved out a breath. He had no idea what to do now. Nurturing, healing, all that mushy stuff… he wasn’t good at any of it.

"What would Hot Guy look like?" he asked. Sex he could do. And honestly, for the first time in a long time, he was actually looking forward to it. There was something about the irreverent way she spoke…

"Oh, I don’t know," she said, her voice settling into one area. "Tall, dark, and handsome. Isn’t that what all women want?"

"Not always." He moved toward her, sifting through her memories for past examples of what she considered hot.

"You sound like you know."

He shrugged, then remembered she couldn’t see him. "I’ve had some experience. Keep talking so I can find you."

"Why can’t we talk like this?"

"Because"—he altered his course to the left—"I would rather not raise my voice."

"It’s a very luscious voice."

His brows rose. "Thank you."

Luscious was not a word he’d heard in regard to his voice before. The compliment made his c*ck twitch, and the damn thing was so jaded, it hardly ever did that without physical manipulation. It certainly had never done that without visual stimuli. "I like your voice, too. I picture you being very pretty."

Rifling through her mind, he saw that she was indeed attractive, but tired, with red-rimmed dark eyes and a slender frame.

"Well, we’ll be sure to keep the lights out then." She sounded sad. Normally he would be backing away quickly from such emotion. Lust and anger were all he could afford to experience. He couldn’t care too deeply about anyone’s fate. Not even his own.

"There are those of us who can help you," he said softly.

"Which one? The one who came last night and imitated the voice of my cheating ex-boyfriend?"

Aidan winced. "Bad choice, but with the door in the way, I’ve got to hand it to him for even picking up on that much."

She laughed, and the throaty sound was very different from what he had expected to hear. It was vibrant, full of life, a taste of the woman she’d been before whatever had happened to f**k her up.

"The other night they sounded like my mother."

He lowered to a crouch beside her. "To comfort you. That was smart, considering how close you are to her."

"I don’t want comfort, Aidan," she said, yawning.

A heady floral fragrance filled his nostrils, and wanting more of it, he sat down with his legs crossed. "What do you want, Lyssa?"

"Sleep." Her sweet voice was so wearied. "God, I just want to go to sleep and rest. My mother talks too much to let that happen. And your people keep pounding on the damn door. The main reason I let you in was to shut you guys up."

"Come here," he murmured, reaching into the darkness and finding her warm, soft body.

As she curled against his chest, he created a wall behind him and settled, stretching his long legs out in front of them and holding her close.

"This is nice," she breathed, her breath hot as it gusted through the opening of his tunic and grazed his chest. Her weight was slight, but she was full-breasted, a discovery that both pleased and surprised him. "It was your voice, too."

"Hmm?"

"Why I let you in."

"Ah." He stroked the length of her spine, soothing her, whispering assurances that made no sense to him but sounded good.

"You’re almost hard enough to be uncomfortable," she grumbled, wrapping her arms around his waist. "What the hell do you do for a living?"

He buried his nose in her hair and breathed her in. The scent was fresh and sweet. Innocent. While this woman had spent her life healing small creatures, he’d spent an eternity fighting and killing, "I keep the bad guys away."

"Sounds rough."

He said nothing. The urge to find solace with her was nearly overwhelming, but unlike how he felt with other women, he didn’t wish to lose himself in her body. He just wanted to hold her, and take comfort in her caring. Her livelihood was healing, and he wanted, for just a fleeting instant, to be healed.

He squashed the desire ruthlessly.

"I’m so sleepy, Aidan."

"Rest, then," he murmured. "I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed."

"Axe you an angel?"

His mouth curved, and he hugged her closer. "No, darling. I’m not."

Her reply was a gentle snore.

* * *

It was not-so-gentle kneading on her leg that woke her. Lyssa stretched, startled to find herself on the couch, then even more startled to realize she felt wonderful. The late afternoon sun lit her living room through the sliding glass door, and Jelly Bean, her tabby cat, was grumbling as he always did when she slept too long and didn’t pay enough attention to him.

Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and laughed as her stomach growled in protest. She was famished, truly hungry for the first time in weeks.

"I guess I should have tried sleeping on the couch earlier," she told JB, scratching him behind the ears before rising to her feet. The ringing of the phone made her jump. She hurried to the breakfast bar to get it.

"Dr. Bates," she greeted breathlessly.

"Good afternoon, Doctor," her mother replied, laughing. "You sleeping all day again?"

"I guess." Lyssa looked at the clock. It was nearly one. "It must have worked this time, though. I feel better than I have in months."

"Good enough to go out to lunch?"

Her stomach rumbled its approval at the thought. "Definitely. How long before you get here?"

"I’m just around the corner."

"Cool." Reaching over, she sprinkled fish food in her salt-water tank. Eager clown fish rose to the surface, making her smile. "Let yourself in. I’m going to clean up."

Tossing the cordless handset on the couch before running up the stairs, Lyssa showered and dressed quickly in a comfortable chocolate velour jogging suit. She ran a comb through her wet hair and then clipped it up, noting that she still looked tired, even though she felt great.

Her mother, however, looked nothing less than fabulous dressed in red silk cigarette pants and matching shrunken jacket. With her chin-length blond hair and rouged lips, Cathryn Bates hadn’t let two divorces dampen her desire to look hot and attract men.

While her mother rambled on about one thing or the other, Lyssa rushed her out the kitchen door and into her Roadster. "Let’s go, Mom. Talk in the car, I’m starved."

"You’ve said that before," Cathy muttered, "and then ate like a bird."

Lyssa ignored that quip and looked over her shoulder as she backed out of her garage. "Where to?"

"Soup Plantation?" Her mom raked her with an assessing glance. "Nah, you need some meat on your bones. Vincent’s?"

"Pasta. Yum." Licking her lips, she turned the wheel and sped out of her condo complex. With the top down and a good night’s rest, she felt ready to take on the world. It was nice to have energy and be happy. She had almost forgotten how wonderful it was.

Vincent’s Italian restaurant was busy, as usual, but they didn’t have any trouble securing a seat. Red and white gingham tablecloths and wooden chairs lent to the casual country interior. Soft candles burned on every tabletop, and Lyssa immediately broke into the fresh-baked rosemary bread with gusto.

"Well, look at you!" her mom said approvingly, gesturing for wine by holding her stemmed glass aloft. "I wonder if your sister is eating hardy, too. Her obstetrician says the baby is another boy. She’s been trying to think of names."

"Yeah, she told me." Dipping another chunk of bread in olive oil, Lyssa shrugged and reached for the menu. An upbeat Italian tune struggled to be heard over the lunch crowd din, but the busy atmosphere was just what she needed to feel like part of civilization again. "I told her the best I could do was some pet names. She wasn’t impressed."

"I suggested she pull out that baby book I bought her. Start with the A’s and work her way down. Adam, Alden—"

"Aidan!" Lyssa cried mid-bite. Something tender warmed her insides and made her sigh. "I don’t know why, but I really love that name."

It was a beautiful Twilight night. The sky above was an ebon blanket of stars, and in the distance, the roaring of the various waterfalls competed with laughter and hushed musical tones. Guardians who had worked the long night before were relaxing away the stresses of their day. For Aidan, however, his work was just beginning.

He passed beneath the massive archway at the Temple of the Elders and paused at the chozuya. Dipping the waiting ladle into the fountain, he rinsed out his mouth and washed his hands before continuing on.

Grumbling under his breath, he then traversed the center courtyard and entered the haiden where the Elders awaited him. They sat before him in semicircular rows that faced the columned entryway he had just come through. Rising several stories above him, there were so many benches that the Guardians had lost count of how many Elders occupied them long ago.

"Captain Cross," greeted one of them. Which one, Aidan couldn’t say. As always, he thought of Master Sheron, knowing the teacher was one among the many, absorbed into what Aidan saw as a collective consciousness. The knowledge saddened him.

He bowed respectfully. "Elders."

"Tell us more about your Dreamer, Lyssa Bates."

It was a struggle, but he kept his face impassive as he straightened. Just the sound of her name spoken aloud sent a shiver of pleasure through him. Despite the darkness of her dream, he had enjoyed his time with her. He’d felt secure behind the massive door, comforted by her trust, inwardly surprised and contented that she would turn to him for himself, not as a phantasm she had created for her own relief. And she’d commiserated with him, seen him as a man, not an automaton who craved nothing so much as a hearty fight and a willing fuck.

"I’ve told you everything I know."

"There must be more. Seven sleep cycles have passed since you gained entry, and she has denied all subsequent Guardians."

He shrugged. "Leave her alone. She’s safe and sane. When she’s ready, she’ll let us in. She has no immediate need for us."

"Perhaps we have need of her."

His posture rigid, Aidan raked his gaze across the sea of faces, his heart increasing its rhythm. They stared back, clad in dark gray, cowls raised and shielding the upper halves of their faces so that they all looked the same. One entity. "Why?"

"She asked for you."

His breath caught. She remembered him. Warmth spread through him, and he hid his pleasure with a dismissive "So?"

"How is it that she recalls you by your true name?"

"I told it to her when she asked."

"Why does she see through every guise we present to her?"

"She’s a doctor. She’s smart."

"Is she the Key?"

Aidan scowled. "No. If you knew her, you would know how ridiculous that is to even consider. She would never open the Gateway to the Nightmares. She fears them as we do. Besides, she has the least amount of dream control I’ve ever seen. Turning the lights on is beyond her, so she’s sitting in the damn dark."