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Chapter One

  Human minds are easily fooled, I thought.

  It wasn’t hard for me to do really, especially when they were asleep. Their unconscious state left them weak and vulnerable, an easy target for someone like me. I didn’t think I was a bad person, a troublemaker at the worst. I had created some incredible problems for people in the past, enjoyed stepping into their dreams and giving them my own direction. It was always a fantastic laugh for me, not so much for the poor human who’d let me in without realizing.

  I chuckled as I remembered the night when I turned an old man’s sweet imaginings of golf into a nightmare which involved his putter becoming a snake that ate him. Just as he began his swing, I conjured a giant serpent, suddenly writhing in his hands. The man screamed like a woman and tried to swear, but was stopped short when he was swallowed whole. He awoke so forcefully I was literally thrown to the ground as I entered my own mind again, his screams of terror echoing in the dark.

  On a different occasion, I scared a child awake by creating a terrible monster with long claws, wolf like teeth, and glowing red eyes which peered at him through a window. I’d watched from the shadows as the boy played in the sandbox. Ever so slowly, the window gradually appeared just outside the area. The boy, as curious as I’d pegged him, jumped up and ran to inspect the window only to find my creation waiting on the other side of the glass. Shock registered on his face and when the beast let out a terrible roar he screamed. I felt a certain amount of pride over that moment—no one knew how to produce a terrifying growl like I did.

  My favorite time to hand out terrors usually coincided with the release of a new horror movie. Poor blonde girls; they always died in the movie, and I was there to help hammer that into their subconscious minds—over and over again with relish.

  I mused over the many times I had been . . . uh . . . encouraged to leave the humans alone. I didn’t ever get in trouble for anything—exactly—except for a few choice incidents, which also happened to be some of my favorite memories.

  My mother, who held a certain amount of sway in things, didn’t approve of my shenanigans. She thought they were cruel, as did most of the other Fae. Her opinion only mattered when I still lived with her though, and that was a long, long time ago. When I got caught messing in the minds of those I shouldn’t, she would make me do various things as penance. Smaller incidents were punished with a stern talk, larger ones with house arrest. It wasn’t too much of an issue then, since seeking out my choice of entertainment hadn’t been much of a priority. But as soon as I was on my own, it was all I wanted to do. As a result, I didn’t visit very often—or at all.

  It wasn’t my fault though. As crazy as it seemed, there really wasn’t much to do in and around Fae. Time had a way of changing things. I didn’t even know how old I was any more. I’d stopped counting somewhere after three hundred because it didn’t seem to matter much after that. All the Fae ever wanted to do was romance each other. Ew. That was not for me. Sure I liked girls, but the last thing I needed was another woman to nag me. If they weren’t romancing each other, or secretly romancing humans, then they were growing some type of plant. I understand greens are great and all, but really? I seriously worried the vegetation might begin to take us over at some point. There’s only so much that can be done with foliage.

  Thus, the mortal fantasies became my escape–my salvation from boredom. I tried to come up with something new each night, but being an immortal—having an unlimited amount of nights—was starting to leave me with no fresh ideas whatsoever. I’d been doing this for too long.

  Boring . . . Over dreamt . . . Really? Puppies? Socks? That’s what you’re dreaming about? You have no imagination! I snorted as I stood on the edge of the forest, shuffling through the minds of humans sleeping peacefully before me.

  There was a disgustingly low amount of ideas to work with. It was either socks or vampires, neither of which I had much desire to dip into. It had been a while since I’d made my way near this town, and with the way things were looking, I didn’t think I’d be returning any time soon.

  I decided to give the place one last try, my mind sorting through the few remaining mortals, one of which was having an extremely vivid dream about eating a sandwich. I rolled my eyes and gave a laugh. Nope, I was done here. I turned and began walking into the woods, towards the magical path which would take me home to The Glen.

  I was almost beyond the barrier when, suddenly, a dream caught my attention and I froze—my interest aroused. I relaxed and allowed myself to slip quietly into the fantasy, anticipation building at the fun I was about to have.

  It was a girl, a young woman actually, dancing by herself in a pool of soft light. She twisted and turned her body with a grace that mesmerized and held me in place with a force I couldn’t describe or understand. A classical piano piece was coming from somewhere, but I was so entranced by her I didn’t look around for the source, allowing her performance to flood my senses. After a few moments, she finished her beautiful movement and placed her slippered feet into a ballet style pose, then turned, looking right at me it seemed. I knew it was rude to stare this way, but knowing she couldn’t see me, I decided to entertain my odd and inexplicable desire to know her better. I was so caught up in what I was feeling I didn’t realize she was starting to act uncomfortable.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, softly. I continued to watch, held captive by her. Her eyebrows raised and she cleared her throat while I looked around, wondering who she was talking to. I saw no other character in her dream. “I believe I asked if I could help you with something.” Her voice was more forceful, almost angry sounding. I started suddenly as I realized she was talking to me.

  “Me?” I asked just to make sure I wasn’t mistaken. Well, this is a first, I thought.

  She rolled her eyes and folded her arms. “Yes, you. Who else would I be speaking to? Do you see anyone else here?”

  I looked around, feeling like an idiot. I didn’t know what to do. Realizing my stupidity, I quickly withdrew my mind from hers, stunned at the “conversation” I’d just had. I tried to think of why my ability to stay hidden while probing another’s awareness hadn’t worked, but no good reasons came to me.

  Had it been a fluke–a one-time thing? I asked myself. This was completely unprecedented. I analyzed what had happened, and unable to come to any type of conclusion, I decided to reach out to her again. What’s the worst that could happen? She’ll still see me and I’ll leave, end of story, I reasoned.

  Carefully, I reentered the dream—this time tip toeing into her imagination. She had resumed her dancing as if nothing had even happened, spinning with unbelievable balance.

  Had she already forgotten about me? I wondered. I remained quietly in the shadows, trying not to chortle over her possible attention span problem, thinking of how I should safely test if she could see me or not.

  Suddenly, I spotted her ballet slippers and the beautiful ties, which traced up the length of her calves. I smiled devilishly, eager to do what I did best. I stepped boldly from the shadows and imagined the lavish ties becoming vines that trapped her legs together and rooted her to the ground, unable to move.

  Take that, dancer girl! I thought triumphantly.

  At first, I was sure it had worked. She began to falter and slow, and stopped her twirling, but then I realized it was because she was looking at me—again. I cursed under my breath and immediately began to withdraw, though part of me wanted desperately to stay and figure out how this woman was immune to my powers. I had finally found it—something new that piqued my interest, but there could be a lot of trouble if I stayed. Releasing the last threads of her consciousness, laughter reached me, and I couldn’t help myself—I stepped back into the light of her mind.

  She smiled at me serenely, still giggling somewhat, and I looked at her quizzically. “What are you going on about?” I asked point blank, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. She stifled the rest of her amusement with her hand and then cleared he
r throat as her hand returned to her side.

  “The face you were making was so peculiar. It looked like you were wishing for my shoes to catch fire—or something—you were staring at them so intently.” She started snickering again as she finished her explanation.

  I grimaced in embarrassment, a feeling that was completely foreign. “I was doing no such thing,” I lied, knowing I would never tell her what I had been doing.

  “Then what were you thinking?” She was calling my bluff, her eyes sparkling. I liked her already—she was just as bold as I was. It was as if we were two friends trying to beat each other in a word game.

  “What’s your name?” I asked to avoid her question.

  She smiled and shook her head. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to tell strangers things like that?” She spun in a little circle, smiling. Her hands slid through her long hair as she did so, causing it to lift and ripple.

  As she moved, I observed our surroundings more closely and noticed we weren’t actually in a pool of light as I’d originally thought, but in a long room, completely bare of furnishings. One whole wall was made up of floor-to-ceiling mirrors, which had been concealed somewhat in the shadows. Realizing it was some type of ballroom, I stepped into the glow a little more. It seemed as if doing so should have been difficult since I’d spent my existence in the shadows of the human mind, but those few steps felt like a breath of fresh air. I glanced at myself in the glass wall and realized I’d automatically altered my clothing to match hers, without consciously realizing what she was wearing.

  I was in a fancy, tuxedo-like black suit with a loosely fastened red tie. The formal jacket was missing, but I still looked pretty sharp. The sleeves of my dress shirt were rolled neatly to the elbow and matching dress shoes completed the look. My reflection looked close to my normal one, though my pointy ears were missing and my fiery red eyes were now bright blue. My hair remained its usual blond color, styled short and messy. It was odd. Normally, I looked like myself in dreams, mostly because there was no need to change the appearance of someone who couldn’t be seen. I figured somewhere in my mind I realized I was a visible role in the dream now, and I needed to look the part.

  The girl wore a beautiful ball gown of red silk with little black, gemmed accents, which rustled with every move she made; her raven ballet flats showed only when she spun and the air caught her skirts. Around her neck was a matching jewel and ribbon. Her long ebony hair hung loose in curls, which would have made any girl jealous.

  The woman cleared her throat and stretched her hand to me. Turning from the mirror to look directly at her, I raised my eyebrow questioningly as I remained where I was. I suddenly felt apprehensive; I’d never touched anyone during their dream before, though for some unknown reason, I found myself wanting to touch this human.

  “Come dance with me,” she explained, stretching her hand towards me further, excitement radiating from her smile.

  Unsure of what to do, I took a step away, locked my fingers behind me, and shook my head. “No, I shouldn’t.”

  “Don’t be silly. It will be fun!” She walked toward me—a woman on a mission—and beckoned for me even more with each step. “How are we supposed to not be strangers if you won’t dance with me?”

  I tried one more time to step away and found myself against the wall. I started to protest, my nerves getting the best of me, but the plea never fell from my lips. Everything around us silenced the moment she touched my hand, and I felt a spark ignite within me.

  I gasped slightly and looked at her as if I was seeing her for the first time. Her eyes became dreamy, dark pools of honey warmth, framed by beautifully long lashes and perfectly shaped eyebrows. Her nose was small and fit flawlessly with the rest of her features, and her smile was the perfect shade of white, surrounded by tempting red lips.

  Why didn’t I notice any of that before? I thought through the haze.

  I swallowed hard as she took my other hand and placed it on her dainty waist. Closing my eyes, I tried to concentrate on anything else, but the warmth of her skin was too much of a distraction. The sensation overwhelmed me even more. When I looked again, she was staring, a small smile still on her lips. All of the years I spent dancing with the Fae fled from my mind

  “I, uh . . . , I don’t know how to dance,” I stammered, looking away so she wouldn’t sense my untruthfulness. I felt a fiery shock as she placed her hand on the side of my cheek and gently turned my face until our gazes were connected again.

  “Just look at me—at my eyes.” She widened her smile. “Only at me.”

  From somewhere the mysterious music began again, and she relocated her hand from my face to my shoulder. I froze for a moment, but with her reassuring nod, I stepped forward.

  I was surprisingly nervous, wondering if she could feel the tremors in my hands, or if she noticed my sloppy footwork. I glanced down at my feet, an apology forming on my lips, but she shushed me.

  “Only at me,” she whispered again.

  I met her eyes once more, and the world fell away as we connected. The music swelled, and suddenly I knew just what to do. I courageously took more control of the dance. Twirling her away from me, my eyes followed her every move. My skin delighting in the fire that hers created as she returned to my arms. And so we danced, never looking away from each other, until the music came to a sad stop and we stilled.

  “Emilee.” She softly panted.

  I looked at her, confused. “What?” I tried unsuccessfully to catch my breath.

  “My name is Emilee.” She laughed, only this time it sounded like bells in my ears. “You’re forgetful, aren’t you?” She bit her bottom lip and raised her eyebrows as she tried to silence her mirth. I could feel myself salivate as I looked at her mouth. I wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

  What the heck is happening to me? I chuckled nervously, trying to redirect my attention. I enjoyed how free I felt—how different it was to laugh with her. I didn’t like the sudden intimate thoughts that kept bombarding me. “Nice to meet you, Emilee.” I bowed low and swept my arm out to the side. My mischievous personality resurfaced. I could play a part in her jest. “My name is Raith.”

  As I expected, she giggled and curtsied, enjoying the game we had begun without meaning to. “It’s nice to meet you . . . Raith.”

  She grinned, and suddenly began to fade away.

  “No!” I said, trying to hold on, not ready to leave her yet. I grabbed for her waist and tightened my grip on her hand, but it was no use. I felt the familiar sensation of our minds pulling apart, and I was by myself at the edge of the woods. The sun was rising, and I realized Emilee had woken up. I had spent the whole night in her dream.

  I flopped down into the tall grasses and leaned up against a tree with my arms behind my head. I sighed contently and decided right then I would go to her again this evening with the hope she would still be able to see me and we would dance again.