Page 4 of Demon of Dreams

It didn’t mean anything sinister. And it definitely didn’t have anything to do with my dream. I was just being paranoid.

Still, I avoided the windows for the rest of my shift.

I was exhausted by the time I reached Red’s Motel at four p.m. that afternoon. The sky had grown overcast, and the sun was just a faint yellowish patch in the clouds, sinking towards the horizon. I’d almost convinced myself I’d been imagining things that morning, out of sheer tiredness. Easy to let your mind run away with you when you’re short on sleep.

It was a good thing I didn’t own a car, honestly. I wouldn’t have trusted myself behind the wheel at that point. I was so zoned out that I was halfway across the motel parking lot before I saw the raven, sitting atop the vacancy sign. Watching me.

How the hell had it known I would be here? Or had it followed me as I’d walked across town, silently dogging my commute? Either answer freaked me out. But by now, I was as frustrated as I was scared.

“Go away!” I shouted up at it. “I mean it. If you’re just going to sit there and be creepy, go be creepy at someone else. I have fucking work to do.”

The raven regarded me silently.

“Get lost!” I shouted—and then stared in shock as the raven fluffed its wings and took to the sky.

Had it actually listened? Or was it just coincidence?

A dark green minivan pulled into the parking lot, and I flushed. Coincidence or not, I looked insane, shouting at birds. Red’s didn’t get a lot of business, and if I scared away its clientele, they wouldn’t have enough money to pay me. I waved at the van, plastering a cheerful smile on my face, and headed inside.

The evening was uneventful, thank God. I was so tired, I was practically falling asleep on my feet. Room eleven needed its linens changed, and room fourteen had a stopped-up toilet. Around eight p.m., I set a new pot of coffee going in the lobby—sometimes it felt like my life was just one big, Sisyphean coffee pot that constantly needed refilling—and moved back behind the front desk.

All two of our reservations had arrived and checked in. It was a Wednesday, and we weren’t likely to get any walk-ins. I was on for another hour and a half, but I hoped it would be a quiet evening.

Red didn’t keep the heat on very high in the lobby, so I pulled my jacket on before sitting down. My hands went into my pockets, and my right one brushed something strange. I frowned, then gaped, as I pulled thesomethingout. It was the feather Anthony had brushed off my shoulder this morning.

How had it gotten there? Had I picked it up and completely forgotten? Just blacked out? I wouldn’t have put it past me, at this point.

I shoved the feather back into my pocket, then slumped forward and buried my face in my hands. What else had I blacked out? Or worse, what else might I have imagined? I wasn’t sure I could tell reality from dreams anymore.

Did crazy people even realize they were crazy? What if I’d dreamt this whole day? What if I was locked up somewhere and this was all a hallucination? Or what if—wait a second.

What was that smell?

My nose twitched, then my stomach plummeted. Smoke. I was smelling smoke. I pulled my hands away from my face, blinking in the sudden darkness. My heart thumped in my chest. Red’s was on fire. Why wasn’t the smoke alarm going off?

I had to get up, had to wake people up and get everyone out of the building. I had to call the fire department. But when I tried to stand, I couldn’t. Something was holding me back.

Wild-eyed, I looked down. I could barely see anything. The only light was a faint red glow pulsing in between billows of shadow and smoke, but I could see enough to realize I was naked. Something dark and soft whispered across my skin, giving me goosebumps, even as the heat around me rose.

Dream. It’s just a dream. The words floated through my mind.None of this is real.

I took a shaky breath, trying to pull free of whatever was holding me, but the harder I pulled, the less I could move. Something wrapped around my ankles, my wrists, my thighs. Claws stroked my back. Teeth grazed my neck. And I heard it again. That growl. Dark and hungry and unmistakably masculine.

The sound sent electricity straight to my cock, which was rock hard and aching. Fuck. I didn’t want this.

Right?

I felt completely exposed, out of control. I was in someone—or something—else’s thrall. And I’d never been more turned on in my life.

As if it could read my thoughts, the thing—themonster—laughed, low and gravelly. My thighs began to spread, and something dark and firm wrapped around my cock, already leaking precum. A tentacle? A tail? A swirl of smoke? I couldn’t tell. But as it stroked me up and down, I couldn’t hold back a moan.

The monster laughed again. Somehow, it knew me. Knew what I wanted, even if I couldn’t admit it. My cock was slick now, the head sensitive as it was caressed and teased. A soft whimper escaped me. I was desperate for more.

Reading my thoughts again, the monster shifted behind me, and suddenly I was moving, pushed forward against the reception desk. Smoke billowed around me. A tongue of flame ran down my back, then kept going, down my crack until it reached my hole.

Oh, God. Oh,God. It couldn’t—it wouldn’t—there was no way I could stand it if it kept going. Fear churned in my belly. I couldn’t let this happen—but I wanted it, so badly.

Once more, the monster read my mind. The swirls of smoke that held me, thick and firm as ropes, loosened. I was still leaning against the desk, but nothing kept me there anymore. The monster was giving me a chance to leave if I wanted to.

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