Read Online Waking Nightmares by Christopher Golden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christopher Golden
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looking down at her, beautiful ebony face framed by ropes of beaded hair.
“Hey,” Tori said gently. “Anybody home in there?”
Keomany groaned. The pain in her head had gone, but the moment she tried to move, it returned.
“What happened to you?” Tori asked.
It took Keomany a moment, but then the memory flooded back into her mind. Whatever connection Gaea had created to link her to that place, she still felt it. The goddess had cried out as the taint of evil had touched that town and began to spread. Keomany had felt her anguish, and she knew the name of that town.
She tried to speak, but her voice was a rasp.
“Hang on,” Tori said, turning to the others who had gathered around her in the clearing by the new apple tree. She reached out toward them, and the orchard manager, scruffy Patrick, handed Tori a bottle of water.
Tori helped Keomany prop herself up and handed her the bottle. Keomany winced at the pain in her head, but the water tasted wonderful. She wondered how long she had been out there under the sun before someone had wondered why she had been gone so long and come looking for her.
“Goddess, is she all right?” a familiar voice called.
They all turned to see Tori’s wife, the tall, curvy Cat Hein, come hurrying into the clearing. Cat fell to her knees beside Tori, and now both women were doting over her. Keomany managed a smile, more for them than for herself.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Cat asked.
Keomany took another sip of water, then nodded to her friends. “I’m all right. Help me up. I’ve got to get to the house. I need the phone.”
They steadied her as she rose to her feet.
“What’s going on, Keomany?” Tori asked. “Who do you have to call?”
Keomany started away from the new tree, toward the house on the other side of the orchard.
“Octavian,” she said, glancing back at them. “And I’ll need someone to watch my shop. I’m going to be going away for a little while.”
THE coffee Viviane Chenot had brewed could have doubled as a rust remover, but Octavian didn’t mind. He liked it strong, and if it was also bitter, he didn’t mind, and he never tried to subdue the flavor with sugar. Nikki had no such hesitations. She smiled as she dumped three heaping teaspoons of sugar into her coffee, and even then he knew she only drank it to be polite.
They sat around the little table in the dining area just outside Viviane’s galley kitchen. Perhaps the change could be attributed to a new lightness of spirit for Viviane herself, but the place seemed brighter to Octavian, the colors of the paintings and even the flowers on the table more vivid.
“I can’t thank you enough for what you did,” Viviane said.
“I’m only glad I was in time,” Octavian replied.
Viviane’s lover and former professor, Derek Tremblay, raised his coffee cup in a toast.
“Don’t be modest,” the professor said. “You’ve earned yourself a certain notoriety, Peter, but a lot of people think you’re some kind of charlatan. I thank God that you’re not.”
Nikki reached out and touched Octavian’s face, pushing her fingers back through his hair. “He is something, isn’t he?”
Octavian rolled his eyes, not because he minded public displays of affection but because he had never been comfortable with lavish praise, not even from the woman he loved.
“All right, rock star,” he teased.
Nikki bristled. She always argued that her music wasn’t technically “rock.” When they were sparring like this, it never failed to get a rise out of her. It felt good to be playful with her. Much of the tension that had been growing between them had abated, though he feared that soon enough, like the tide, it would roll back in again.
Nikki did not offer a retort, and he knew why. Ever since Viviane had opened the door to let them into the apartment, the girl had been alternately staring at Nikki and sneaking glances at her. She hadn’t made it to superstardom, and would be
“Hey,” Tori said gently. “Anybody home in there?”
Keomany groaned. The pain in her head had gone, but the moment she tried to move, it returned.
“What happened to you?” Tori asked.
It took Keomany a moment, but then the memory flooded back into her mind. Whatever connection Gaea had created to link her to that place, she still felt it. The goddess had cried out as the taint of evil had touched that town and began to spread. Keomany had felt her anguish, and she knew the name of that town.
She tried to speak, but her voice was a rasp.
“Hang on,” Tori said, turning to the others who had gathered around her in the clearing by the new apple tree. She reached out toward them, and the orchard manager, scruffy Patrick, handed Tori a bottle of water.
Tori helped Keomany prop herself up and handed her the bottle. Keomany winced at the pain in her head, but the water tasted wonderful. She wondered how long she had been out there under the sun before someone had wondered why she had been gone so long and come looking for her.
“Goddess, is she all right?” a familiar voice called.
They all turned to see Tori’s wife, the tall, curvy Cat Hein, come hurrying into the clearing. Cat fell to her knees beside Tori, and now both women were doting over her. Keomany managed a smile, more for them than for herself.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Cat asked.
Keomany took another sip of water, then nodded to her friends. “I’m all right. Help me up. I’ve got to get to the house. I need the phone.”
They steadied her as she rose to her feet.
“What’s going on, Keomany?” Tori asked. “Who do you have to call?”
Keomany started away from the new tree, toward the house on the other side of the orchard.
“Octavian,” she said, glancing back at them. “And I’ll need someone to watch my shop. I’m going to be going away for a little while.”
THE coffee Viviane Chenot had brewed could have doubled as a rust remover, but Octavian didn’t mind. He liked it strong, and if it was also bitter, he didn’t mind, and he never tried to subdue the flavor with sugar. Nikki had no such hesitations. She smiled as she dumped three heaping teaspoons of sugar into her coffee, and even then he knew she only drank it to be polite.
They sat around the little table in the dining area just outside Viviane’s galley kitchen. Perhaps the change could be attributed to a new lightness of spirit for Viviane herself, but the place seemed brighter to Octavian, the colors of the paintings and even the flowers on the table more vivid.
“I can’t thank you enough for what you did,” Viviane said.
“I’m only glad I was in time,” Octavian replied.
Viviane’s lover and former professor, Derek Tremblay, raised his coffee cup in a toast.
“Don’t be modest,” the professor said. “You’ve earned yourself a certain notoriety, Peter, but a lot of people think you’re some kind of charlatan. I thank God that you’re not.”
Nikki reached out and touched Octavian’s face, pushing her fingers back through his hair. “He is something, isn’t he?”
Octavian rolled his eyes, not because he minded public displays of affection but because he had never been comfortable with lavish praise, not even from the woman he loved.
“All right, rock star,” he teased.
Nikki bristled. She always argued that her music wasn’t technically “rock.” When they were sparring like this, it never failed to get a rise out of her. It felt good to be playful with her. Much of the tension that had been growing between them had abated, though he feared that soon enough, like the tide, it would roll back in again.
Nikki did not offer a retort, and he knew why. Ever since Viviane had opened the door to let them into the apartment, the girl had been alternately staring at Nikki and sneaking glances at her. She hadn’t made it to superstardom, and would be
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