Sweetest Nightmare

The music was loud and thundering, rattling the walls of the underground dance club already shrouded in a thin layer of mist, neon lights breaking through in flashes of color. Faceless people jumped and swayed frantically to the beat, and Tory detested every minute of it. Pretending to be one of them — a party girl, in her element — was taking a toll she hadn’t anticipated, when she would have much rather been curled up with her favorite book in a quiet corner back home.

Wherever she looked, tall shadowy figures circled the dance hall, lurking in the corners, sometimes drifting into the crowd itself. Searching. Waiting. If she didn’t want to be preyed upon by these nightmare sentries, she had to play the part; act as though she wasn’t the dreamer at all, but just another piece of the nightmare they had built around her.

An hour had already passed, and keeping her emotions in check was getting harder by the minute. Desperate for a breather, she cut through the crowd in search of a pocket of space where the sentries weren’t hovering too close; but someone grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

“How much longer before you throw that dice?”

Her heart clenched painfully as she took in those golden locks and blue eyes that had once looked at her with such softness and warmth. Karl had meant the world to her once; until he shattered it without so much as a blink. Behind him, her so-called friends were huddled over a tabletop game; including that person. That beautiful bitch who was apparently so much better than her at everything, something Karl had made perfectly clear on the last day she ever saw him.

The hurt she kept locked away seeped through the cracks before she could stop it, Karl’s grip on her shoulder tightening at the same moment, his face shifting into something menacing; and across the hall the sentries turned, drawn by the scent of her distress. No. She had to stay invisible. She drew a slow breath and let those painful memories retreat back behind their walls, one by one, sealing them away; just like her mother had taught her. The smile she turned on Karl was the same one she would give a stranger; warm enough to pass, empty of everything underneath.

“Feel free to throw it in my place, Karl. I need a minute.” She jerked her head toward the restroom. His face settled back into something familiar and he nodded with a laugh, releasing her shoulder and walking back to her past without so much as a glance over his shoulder, settling in next to that woman.

It had been months since she last saw any of them, and she had told herself it no longer mattered. Her reflection in the mirror told another story. She looked shaken; though maybe the bags under her brown eyes were just exhaustion, and the tangled mess of her long brown hair nothing more than the consequence of jumping around in a crowd.

The coldness of the water had no effect on her as she washed her face. Senses were usually dulled in dreams; only the emotional part was heightened.

She just wanted this dream to end so she could call her sister, who was probably sitting by the phone waiting for news. Whether she passed. Because this nightmare was a test; the entry requirement for the world’s biggest nightmare hunting company, Nightmare Subjugation Inc., NSI for short. But her comfort had taken hit after hit already, and even that stupid dress wasn’t helping, too tight and too short, the hem riding up no matter how many times she tugged it down. Walking around like this was mortifying.

The color drained from her face the moment a nightmare sentry floated into the restroom. Was she too obvious? She started singing along to the music drifting in from outside, pretending she knew the song; she didn’t. By the time she slipped back out, she was dancing again, fumbling through it like a complete beginner, but nobody seemed to care.

Nobody except the man at the bar, who was very clearly trying not to laugh. Her face flushed and she dropped the awkward shuffle, taking a proper look at him instead. He was out of place in every way that mattered; too composed, moving too swiftly, ordering a drink and throwing it back like water. He didn’t feel familiar at all, but god, he was handsome. Exactly her type; short brown hair raked back like he hadn’t given it a second thought, emerald green eyes, a sharp jawline, tall and built where it counted.

Another nightmare, it had to be. One that would take one look at her little dance routine and never let it go. The smart move was to ignore him; yet when his eyes drifted her way, her legs had already made the decision for her.

She sidled up next to him and propped one elbow on the counter. He was drinking again, but his gaze had found her, and the amusement in it was impossible to miss. She scoffed.

“Did you just laugh at me dancing?”

Nightmare or not, she would take this one head on. Her patience was already running out.

“I wouldn’t dare. That move was epic.” The irony dripping from his voice annoyed her instantly. So he really was part of the nightmare.

“Oh really? Care to show me yours?” She looked him over openly. “You don’t look like the type at all.”

“You’d be surprised. But I’m not here for dancing.” He turned the stool toward her, leaning back with a smirk.

“Then what are you here for, exactly?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I’m looking for a lost girl. Know where I can find one?” He was swirling his glass slowly on the counter, eyes sharp on her face.

“Everyone here is lost. Take your pick.” She nodded toward the crowd. He let out a small chuckle.

“Has to be someone specific. You look a lot like her.” His voice dropped lower, and she hated that she loved the sound of it.

“Is this a new pickup line? Because I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Maybe.” He pointed at her dress, grinning. “But it looks like you’re the one doing the picking up here.”

She looked down, confused; and her stomach dropped. The dress was shorter than it had been in the restroom, her underwear dangerously close to being on full display. Her face burned as she grabbed the hem and tugged, but it wouldn’t budge no matter how hard she pulled.

“For fuck’s sake, I’m so pissed already.” The words came out louder than intended, and every sentry in the room turned. Her embarrassment and shame were too delicious for them to ignore. She caught the man’s eyes flare with something she couldn’t quite place, but there was no time to dwell on it. How was she going to fix this?

Think, Tory. She was supposed to be a party girl. What did party girls do besides dance and sing? She had no idea; she had never set foot in a club before in her life. But there was one thing that made sense in a place like this, something that might throw the sentries off entirely.

As they drifted closer, the man made to stand but she shoved him back onto his stool and climbed into his lap without stopping to think about it. He looked taken aback by her sudden boldness, going wide-eyed as she slipped her arms around his neck and leaned in until their noses almost touched.

Her heart must have been hammering right now; only she couldn’t feel it. Just one emotion burned through her mind at her own audacity: desire.

So she closed the distance and pressed her lips to his. The sentries were still closing in but she kept her focus here, on him, on the faint warmth of his mouth; muted, like everything else in the dream, but exciting in a way she couldn’t quite explain. Something she would never have dared in real life. He leaned back instinctively and she followed, keeping him steady, not giving him room to pull away as she deepened the kiss.

He was still resisting, hands finding her waist, trying to ease her back; until she bit down lightly on his lower lip. Something shifted in him entirely then. He stopped resisting and leaned in instead, catching her off guard as he let their tongues meet, one hand sliding to her thigh as the dress rode up, his fingers tracing slowly higher along her bare skin, leaving a trail of heat even the dulled senses of the dream couldn’t fully suppress.

When his hand moved further up she broke the kiss sharply, catching his wrist in a firm grip. A warning. They were both breathing hard, lips parted, the air between them charged; and despite his initial resistance he looked far too satisfied about that, the corner of his mouth pulling slow. But Tory was already looking around.

“They’re gone,” she whispered with relief.

The man beneath her chuckled softly and she snapped her head toward him, catching him dragging his tongue deliberately across his lower lip where she bit him, eyes dark with something that had nothing to do with amusement anymore. Her whole body registered it before her mind did. She should climb off his lap. She knew that. Her body had absolutely no intention of listening.

“I’ve never been so thoroughly violated in a dream before, Viktoria Boulendy.” His gaze held hers and didn’t waver.

Her stomach dropped. “How do you know my name?”

He simply closed his eyes and muttered into the air. “Cassidy, I have the target. Requesting extraction.”

The dread of her colossal mistake settled over her like a cold wave.

He was not part of her nightmare. He was a Hunter; a nightmare catcher. And she had just made a complete fool of herself.