1 | The Terrible Dreamer

Chapter 11

VEAR

The bar is full of Earthlings dancing to loud thumping music. The kind of fast-paced beats Gens Norwood plays at their weekly celebrations, worshipping life and death to the tune of hypnotic sounds and pulsating drums that shake the very dirt they bleed on. Many times, I've been invited, only once have I gone. I immediately regretted the moment I set foot in their temple. The same feeling comes back to me like a mirage as I walk through this travesty the Earthlings call entertainment.

Sisal and Zundel walk on either side of me, pushing and shoving sweaty bodies out of the way. The stench of odor and piss hurts my head. Grotesque. The worst part of traveling to another planet, entering the unknown. And it gets worse.

When we step outside, we're welcomed by vomit being washed away into the streets and dirt caking the curbs. Lights pollute the air—everything is overwhelming my senses. This is what happens when a planet decides to cut down their trees and live amongst a concrete desert. Thank the stars, Akane has some sense.

I force down shallow breaths and look up. Very few skyscrapers litter the area, except for one down the block. Scattered lights reflect off the glass surface from moving vehicles and street lamps, giving us just enough darkness to blend in to the night.

We cross the street to an empty alleyway, and in one quick motion, we step into the shadows and zip up the brick walls, flying over the sludge and growing moss. It's different here. The shadows force against us more than usual. Gravity taking a toll on our bodies that we're not used to, but when we reach the top of the tallest skyscraper, the air is finally crisp and clean. Quiet and still. Perfect for hunting.

I take a deep breath.

Foul piss, pent-up sexual frustration and sweat of determination, spikes in potted plants and weeds crawling in the cracks of sidewalks and concrete; the palate is overwhelming. A nagging headache forms, poking at my temples incessantly, I almost miss the scent I'm hunting for, but it's there. Rich florals, spicy and sweet, a flower that blooms during the hot seasons.

A smile curls up the corner of my cheeks. "Found you."

I take off flying down the building, jumping from glass to brick, on fire escapes and balconies, slithering through the shadows until I find the dreamwalkers scent just below. She's so close. Finally, I'll have that butterfly back in my grasp.

I stop on a window ledge, reach into the pocket of my leather jacket and grip the bone knife. A scrawny man walks through the alley below, hauling a backpack over his shoulders. Sour smoke lingers from his mouth, a metal pipe between his fingers. Weak and entirely mortal. Not the dreamwalker. But her scent is on him—though faintly.

I should've known this wouldn't be so easy.

No matter. He knows the dreamwalker. That's enough reason to question him. I give a curt nod. Sisal breaks the streets lights one after the other, flicking stones found on the rooftops, until we're engulfed in shadows. The moon our only light.

Quickly, Zundel slithers down the building and shoves the Earthling against the wall.

"What the fuck—" the Earthling stops short when he looks upon Zundel's terrifying sharp teeth. He licks his lips, a serpent tongue coating his mouth in clear venom. Because of this, Sisal and Zundel are the few Faceless I allow to take off their masks while working. They're the perfect sibling duo—though they're a bit unhinged.

Zundel takes a long sniff of the Earthling's throat; red scales spread from his shoulders to high cheeks. "Mmm. Such a nice meaty scent. One bite wouldn't hurt." He snaps his teeth by the Earthling's skin, making him yelp.

Sisal giggles, poking the Earthling in the side. "Stop, Zundel, or he'll piss his pants."

"What's going on? Hallucinating?" the Earthling mumbles to himself. He grabs his blonde hair and rubs his red eyes. "I knew something was laced in that brownie."

"Enough." I drop from the shadows and the Earthling visibly tenses. My horns are hidden in this form, yet his fear is palpable on my tongue. "Take his phone."

Zundel whips the man around and digs into his backpack. The Earthling finally starts squirming. "Wait. Is this really happening? Am I being mugged? I don't have no money!"

"Hold still and be quiet." Sisal drags her claws down his groan. "Or I might snip off the one body part you don't want to lose."

"Found it." Zundel tosses the phone to me.

I turn it on, only to find it locked. Earth and its pesky need for privacy. With a heavy sigh, I stab the bone knife into the wall next to the man's head. "Open this and I'll consider not killing you."

He trembles as he presses his thumb over the screen. It unlocks. The first thing I find is a background, drawn out in bold colorful letters: Dan the Man. So, his name is Dan. Is this an official title or a self-made one? It's hard to tell sometimes, each planet is different with their expressions and dress code, but one trait I've found similar across the universe—the way they carry themselves. Confident and not lacking in decorum. This one has neither.

My fingers twitch. It would be so easy to slash this man's throat, but we must be rational about this. The longer we take prying information from this fool, the further away the dreamwalker gets. I pull out a device that will let me search through the phone for images of a woman that fits her description. A tool that doesn't originate from Akane, but from a planet that thrives on technology alone, far past Earth's and their simple privacy.

Dan sniffles. "Please don't steal my phone, man. I just bought it—ah!" Zundel muffles Dan's screams as blood stains his jeans. Sisal smiles, licking her claw clean and preparing for the next poke, closer to his crotch.

The device beeps and pulls up multiple images of women, either posing with Dan at a party or far off in the distance, a snap shot of a person unaware they're being watched. I quickly swipe through them as Dan begins whimpering and staining the wall with grotesque globs of spit and tears. It takes more than a few minutes before I find an image of a woman looking away from the camera, angled where it points up towards her, blurred at the edges, almost like capturing a fleeting goddess.

But it's her. The dreamwalker.

I study her curves, the way she sits so nonchalantly, and the bored expression on her face. Completely different from the fire she held in her eyes when we fought. I can still picture the fleeting triumphant smile after she slashed my mask off. Anger grows in my veins and I try desperately to hold it back... for now.

Zundel flips Dan around to face the phone. "Tell me this girls name," I demand.

Dan stares at the image, his wide eyes glossy and terrified. "I don't... I don't know who she is—" Sisal stabs Dan in the upper thigh. "Fuck! Wish! Her name's Wish Capri!"

Wish Capri. I burn that name into my mind. "Where is she?"

"I don't know—Wait! Don't stab me again! I really don't know. She's some girl from a class. I just sit next to her!" Dan continues rambling, his eyes flicking back and forth between Sisal and me. "I borrowed her pen once. Never returned it. I took that picture during class. I don't know her, man. I just thought she was hot—"

I yank the bone knife out of the wall. "And where is this class?"

"At KU. It's a 10am lecture with Dr... uh, Dr. Shaffer. In this big auditorium. You can't miss it!" I press the blade to Dan's throat. He squeals, pissing his pants. "Please, don't kill me. That's everything I know. I swear to God. I don't know anything else about the bitch!"

Foul words from such a foul human being. I lean in close. "Wrong answer."

In quick motions, I slice Dan's throat and watch as he chokes on his own blood and spit, grabbing at his skin as if he can self-heal, as if he can stop himself from dying, but no one can escape death, not even myself—and certainly not Wish Capri.