Dream Worlds

Kidnapped

            "Gassett," she mumbled. Her eyes fluttered. The world came into focus but it was like she was seeing it through a black veil. A hand slipped into hers and squeezed. With her eyes still fluttering, she glanced around. She was lying on a bed. The room looked vaguely familiar. She had been there—recently, she thought—but her fumbling brain couldn't place it.

"I'm here," Gassett's voice came from her left. She turned her head—slowly, everything had to be done slowly—to look at him. The black veil moved too.

"I'm here," he softly repeated. He drew their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed the back of hers. Something warm and wet splashed against her skin.

"Gassett." Her voice sounded far away to her ears, as if she wasn't really in this room.

Someone moved at the open door. Gassett quickly dropped her hand. She didn't feel it fall or hit the bed at her side. Daveed stood in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted so she couldn't make out his face. He moved into the room and stood on the side of the bed opposite Gassett. Daveed ran a finger down her face. His held no expression; his caramel eyes searched hers for a sign. She didn't know what to tell him. They stared at each other for a long time. At least, it felt like a long time to her. She couldn't be sure of anything though.

"What did you give her?" Daveed asked.

Gassett shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "Wherever she is the people who took her must have knocked her out. It looks like knockout medicine works like mushrooms. Her body is somewhere else but her consciousness is here."

"How can I touch her if her body isn't here?" Daveed asked. His hand wrapped around her arm, his touch warm against her cold flesh.

Gassett shook his head again. "I have no idea how this works either. Somehow her power allows her consciousness, or her body, to be in two places at once. You remember what she said she saw when we ate those mushrooms."

It was Daveed's turn to shake his head. "This can't be happening."

"What she saw in that other place wasn't just a trip. It was real. Lucas verified that," Gassett reminded him. "Call it astral projection, time travel, or whatever you want. Her power manifests like nothing any of us has ever seen."

"The Society has been around for centuries," Daveed protested. "They would have seen something like this before. Nothing brand new ever happens. We've seen it all. The Pattern..."

"The Pattern no longer exists," Gassett said slowly, as if he was talking to a child that was struggling to learn a new concept. He waved a hand at her prone body. "She has changed it. She has altered reality. We are in entirely uncharted waters. No one can predict how this will turn out."

Daveed shook his head. She could see he didn't want to believe what Gassett was saying. He didn't want to believe she was something special and he wasn't. The Society no longer focused on him and he couldn't handle that.

Daveed retreated from the room. At the door, he turned to look over his shoulder at her. Pain and sadness filled his eyes. In a blink, he was gone, and she was left alone with Gassett.

Her eyes fluttered. The world went dark. When she opened her eyes again someone she didn't recognize was there. She couldn't be sure if his skin was really that shade of brown or if the veil was clogging her vision.

"Gassett," she whispered. Her voice cracked. The man looked at her. He was angry—with her? His long, black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wanted to touch it—run her hands down those silky locks. He reminded her of Daveed, whose shimmering black hair had felt like satin in her hands.