Page 52 of Bewitching Her Monsters

Feeling my shock and fear, my male avatar becomes aware that I’m dreaming with him again.

“Witch?”he asks in my mind.

This feels like something different from an ordinary dream. This doesn’t feel like my dream. Or even a dream, really.

The scene fades until I’m only in complete darkness.

I would almost believe my avatar was a spirit possessing my mind and body.

“What’s going on?” I ask, because now I fear that might be exactly what is happening.

“How are you able to channel my memories?”he asks, as if I had any answers to this craziness.

“This actually happened to you?” I ask. “But... it can’t be. There’s no such thing as realms, portals, and warlocks that can cast people into stone.”

“Are you really that ignorant?”

“Are you really this much of an asshole?” I ask.

“Yes.”He chuckles at his own answer.

“Well, thank you for being honest. And for my part, I don’t know why I’m dreaming I’m you. Or what the hell is going on. I wish it would stop.”

He hums to himself as if he’s finally taking my word for it.

I feel pressure gathering around my mind.

“You don’t seem to be lying. But you might also have been trained to compartmentalize your thoughts.”

“I doubt my mind power skills are to the level you are estimating. I’m barely able to remember what I was supposed to be doing after I leave a room. But I appreciate the vote of confidence,” I sass.

The pressure around my mind lessens, and I’m starting to believe that something paranormal is really happening in my life.

“I don’t know if I can stop you or your people from hurting mine, but just know if I believe you will hurt them, I will do everything in my power to stop you.”

“If I’m going to hurt someone unprovoked, then I don’t blame you. But if you are talking about the guys from the bar… I like Arran. A lot. Maxum was a bit of a jerk, but I’m not planning on talking to him anymore. And I have nothing against the other two. But if they attack me, I will defend myself. Not that I’m likely to win, since they are all huge guys.”

“Guys?”he chuckles again.“They are more than mere men.”

“So theyactuallyare demons, shifters, and gargoyles?” I laugh.

“You really don’t know you have witch blood?”he asks, disbelief ringing in his voice.

“My grandmother claimed I was a witch like her. But my mother told me to ignore it. Said that she was crazy and dangerous. So I never took the claim to heart.”

“So, you have no powers other than the channeling of spirits?”he asks.

“If that’s what I’m doing right now, then I didn’t even know I could do that. I half believed I could dream other people’s dreams, but that’s a far cry from being a medium.”

“You have dream magic?”he asks with renewed interest.“Fascinating.”

“If you really are a ghost, and you need me to get a message to someone, I could help.” I say the next part primarily to myself, “If I had a validated fact, it would prove that this isn’t just a dream.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t feel I can trust you not to betray me.”

“Okay. Then how can I win your trust? For that matter, how can I trust someone who is supposedly invading my body and mind?”

“We can’t trust each other. You are my enemy. Your kind hates my kind. We don’t get to be friends,”he answers, and I feel him fading from my consciousness.“Actions always speak louder than empty promises. And all your kind has ever handed out is lies.”

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