Volume Nine
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Rise
and Shine
In which Dodger wakes up
Everything
was gone. The Peak, the mountain, the Blood Lands. All of it. Sarah’s dream
vanished, as did the little one. Dodger expected to disappear in a puff, like
the rest of the scenery and company, but no. He remained behind, alone, in the
void. At first he worried he had done something wrong that left him tied there,
then he remembered the doc’s promise. The professor said once this was done he
wouldn’t wake Dodger right away. Something about allowing Dodger’s brain time
to recuperate. But if that entailed hanging around a black void, all alone,
Dodger supposed he’d rather just wake on up with the others.
As
he stood around wondering what in tarnation to do now, Dodger felt a tug at his
waist, like a rope pulling on him from behind. He ran his hands across his gun
belt, but couldn’t seem to find the source of the sensation. Without warning,
that tug became a yank, and Dodger found himself jerked backwards, knocking him
off of his feet and sending him flying through the air. A blur of scenery
passed him, much too fast for him to focus on any one thing, until he landed
square in the center of a feather bed. Dodger sat up and looked about.
The
bed he rested on sat smack in the middle of a boudoir. Lace and silk and
feathers adorned nearly every surface, with folds of scarves and wide strips of
frilly fabric covering the walls in an end to end tapestry. The décor suggested
the owner of the bedroom was female, which did not bode well for Dodger. He scooted
to the end of the bed and hopped to his feet, intent on finding his way out
before said lady had a chance to accuse him of poking around in her drawers.
Dodger
spent a good ten minutes searching through the layers of fabric for an egress.
There had to be a window or door or some kind of way out of here. Yet every
time he got to the bottom of the wall hangings, the blank surface offered no
chance of escape. It was like he was trapped in a cube.
Or
a cage.
“Leaving
so soon?” a woman asked.
Dodger
thought he recognized the voice. But it couldn’t be. What in the world was she
doing in this pink ruffled prison? “Miss Rebecca?”
Rebecca
of the Forsaken materialized to his left, wearing a little red silk nightie
that hugged her so tightly it rode up her thighs as she strutted toward him.
“Rodger Dodger, just the man I needed.”
“Me?”
Dodger asked. He glanced around the boudoir as everything fell into place in
his tired mind. “Wait up now, is this still a dream?”
“It
is.”
“Who
is dreaming now?”
“I
believe we are inside of your dirty little mind.” She slinked her way across
the small room, right toward him, painfully slow, step for sexy step.
“Then
you’re just part of my imagination?” he said.
“Perhaps
you’re part of my imagination.”
“Which
is it?”
“Does
it matter?”
Dodger
thought about this a moment as she made her way to him. “I reckon not.”
When
Rebecca reached Dodger, she pressed her heavy breasts against his chest. “All
that matters to me is that I have a problem, and you’re just the man I need to
fix it.”
“What
kind of problem would that be?” He lowered his face to her neck, breathing her
scent as deep as his lungs would allow.
She
smelled of fresh peaches and strawberry wine.
“I
have this problem with my gown,” she said as she worked a lace or two loose
at her buxom bust. “I think it’s a bit too tight, honey, and I need help taking
it off. Do you think you can help me with that?” She pushed the top of her gown
aside, showing off a good bit of plump cleavage, then smiled at him, fangs and
all.
Whereas
the appearance of those sharp fangs set him into a panic last time he saw her,
this time they had the opposite effect. The sight of her fangs drove him wild
with desire. Something about them screamed eroticism at its finest, and Dodger
wanted nothing more than to allow her to use them any way she liked.
Dodger
wrapped his arms around her, snapping her hips to his. “I reckon I can help you
work yourself out of that thing.”
Before either of them could remove anything,
the floor trembled as if someone gave it a good shake. Dodger lost his footing
and fell backward onto the bed, bringing the vampire down with him.
“Oh
my,” Rebecca said as she landed atop Dodger. “It seems I’ve found myself in a
bit of a compromising position. I hope you don’t think less of me for it?”
“I
don’t,” he said. “But I’d think more of you if you were wearing less.”
Rebecca
smiled again, flashing a bit more fang this time. “Mr. Dodger. You are such a
rascal.”
She
lowered her mouth to his this time, yet before they could kiss a bright light
flooded the room from above.
“What
in the hell is that?” Dodger asked as he winced.
“That’s
your wakeup call,” Rebecca said. She held up a hand to shield her light
sensitive eyes. “I wasn’t expecting it so soon. I’m sorry, but I’ll have to
take a rain check on that gown fitting.”
“No.”
Dodger squeezed her to him tighter, relishing every delicious, silky curve
under his hot hands. “I don’t want to go yet. This is the first good thing to
happen to me in a long time.”
“Mr.
Dodger, you have good things happen to you all of the time. You just have to
open your eyes.”
“Do
I have to?”
“I’m
afraid so, honey. We’ll do this again, real soon. I promise. Just open your
eyes.”
“What?”
“Open
your eyes,” Lelanea said.
Dodger
blinked a few times before he sat up in his own bunk and rubbed at his eyes.
Sunlight poured in between the slats, which meant he slept through the night.
“How much longer was I out?”
“Only
a few hours,” Lelanea said.
“Hours?
It felt like seconds. Why did you wake me up? The doc said he was gonna let me
sleep awhile.”
“We
didn’t want to wake you at all, but, well, there’s a problem.”
“Isn’t
there always.” Dodger swung his legs to the edge of the bunk and made to stand.
“What is it? Is Rex back?”
Lelanea
put out a hand, stopping him before he could get to his feet. “Slow down.
You’re still weak from the sleep concoction. In Uncle’s ire at your insistence
to return to Sarah’s dream, he might have given you a bit more than necessary.
It will take you a few minutes to get your bearings. Until then, stay here.
I’ll go let Uncle know you’ve roused.” She glanced to his lap, then back to his
eyes again. “Or should I say aroused?
Dodger
put his hands in his lap and ignored her dirty jab. “What is the problem?”
Lelanea
paused and took a long look at him. “I’ll let Uncle explain. Gather your wits
and when you are ready you can find us in the meeting cab.” Then she was gone,
shuffling off down the hallway to meet with the nephew she insisted on calling
uncle.
Dodger
took the woman’s advice, leaning against the wall as he closed his eyes. It
occurred to him that the train lacked that faint rocking motion of travel.
There were an infinite number of reasons why the train wasn’t moving, and none
of them good. Dodger took a moment to center himself, preparing for the reason
the train came to a blinding halt when they had such an important finish line
to hurtle toward. The dream battle had taken a lot out of him, leaving his body
almost as exhausted as his tired mind. He drew a deep breath and relaxed,
tempted by the prospect of just falling right back to sleep and leaving all of
this worry behind.
In
fact, falling asleep sounded like one of the finest ideas he had in a long,
long time.
Perhaps
he could even hop right back into that delicious dream. He smiled as he drew
another deep breath, his exhale sounding more and more like a steady snore.
Exhaustion overcame him, plunging Dodger back into the sweet arms of his dark
mistress once more. He swore to himself that nothing would wake him this time.
Not Lelanea. Not Rebecca. Certainly not the voice of Sarah Baker.
But
the child insisted on waking him nonetheless.
****
NEXT UP
CHAPTER TWENTY
BACK TO IT
In which Dodger returns to reality
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