Into Dreams: A Gina Harwood Novel (Gina Harwood Series Book 3) Read online

  "I'm... fine..." stammered Gina, but her eyelids drooped closed against her will. Her sleep was dreamless and black.

  12

  The aroma of roast chicken filled Nate's nostrils and he breathed the air in greedily. "That smells so good," he announced. They were in the room adjoining Mama LaVey’s salon, a kitchen with a small dining table against the wall. He and Chris were seated in the wooden dining chairs, eagerly anticipating their first home-cooked meal in what felt like an eternity as LaVey bustled around the kitchen. Their meals on the road had consisted of chips and beef jerky, soda and candy, cheap and easy food that tasted plastic after a few days.

  "Smells fucking delicious," agreed Chris, holding his stomach and looking longingly at the oven.

  "Watch your mouth, boy," called Mama LaVey, shaking her head in disapproval. "Y'all are like a couple of damn animals. Ain't you never been houseguests before?"

  "Sorry, ma'am," answered Chris sheepishly. "Out of practice."

  Mama swooped around the kitchen and brought them a basket of freshly baked rolls with a dish of butter. "Well, if I find that toilet seat up one more time, it's comin' out o' your hide, hear?"

  Both Nate and Chris bobbed their heads in silent apology before reaching hungrily for the rolls.

  Mama LaVey sighed, her hands on her hips, watching them stuff whole rolls in their mouths. "I don't know no Heimlich, don't you choke." The afternoon sun poured through the window over the sink, and Nate forced himself to patiently chew his roll before biting another in half.

  "Yes, ma'am," he managed to say with a mouth full of bread.

  Mama scoffed in disgust and went back to the stove, stirring a pot of thick, creamy potato soup. She ladled out three bowls and carried them to the table. "Soup first, chicken after," she announced, setting one in front of each of them.

  "Nothing from Melissa yet?" asked Chris hopefully as he swallowed the last of his roll.

  "Trust me. I'll come running," she replied, sipping her soup primly out of a long-handled spoon.

  "Thanks for letting us sleep," remarked Nate. He felt better than he had in so long, he couldn't remember. Better than he had since the Very Bad Times, certainly. Mama LaVey had set them up in her small living room on a surprisingly comfortable blow-up mattress. Nate supposed anything would be comfortable after so many nights trying to sleep in the van. But it was more than that; he felt more clear-headed than he had in a long time. The heaviness was still present in his chest, but Melissa had given him the best gift she had to offer: hope. Mama's food was a close second. The fact that no one had died in his presence within the last twenty-four hours was enough to put a smile on his ragged face.

  "I liked the quiet," Mama replied grimly, but she winked at him.

  "Have you encountered stuff like this before? Stuff like what's in him?" asked Chris between bites. Nate lifted a spoonful to his lips and smiled contentedly as the tasty liquid traced a line of warmth down to his belly.

  "I ain't never seen anything like what you boys are into," answered Mama, shaking her head. "Nothin'. Some bad juju."

  "So you don't know how to... fix it?"

  "Sorry, cherie. I only know what that girl showed me." She pushed her bowl away and stared at it. "Bad juju."

  "How'd you become a psychic? Or a medium or whatever?" asked Nate, hoping fervently to turn the subject to something other than himself.

  Mama LaVey looked at Nate for a while before she answered. "I died," she answered. "I died, and I didn't see nothing. No white lights, no Jesus Christ, no angels, nothing. Some dick hit me head-on and my little car crumpled with me inside it - I can still hear that metal jus' twisting and crackling - and I jus’ died. I was gone, and then at some point, I was laying in a hospital bed. Ever since then, I been psychic."

  "Really?" Chris looked up from his soup, and Nate noticed several rivulets of soup trickling down his beard.

  "Yes, really," Mama sighed. "Sucks, too. Doesn't always work, usually doesn't, in fact, and scares the hell outta ya when it does."

  "Makes you wonder if all the roadside psychics are the real deal," he commented.

  "Probably most, I bet," admitted Mama. "At least sometimes. It's too annoying a job to do when it ain't working." She sighed. "You gotta play it up and make some educated guesses, and hope they say somethin' that'll give you an answer for 'em. Most people that come through ain't like you two - they ain't in serious trouble. They jus' wanna know if they wife know about they mistress, or if they should stop what they're doin' and follow their dream of writin' or paintin' or whatever they actually wanna do with their life. Most people are easy money." She looked sidelong at Nate. "You two are hard money."

  "Hey, you can still have every penny I got," offered Chris.

  "I'll spend that on the food y'all are eating!" she scoffed.

  "Thank you," murmured Nate, meeting her eyes. "Really, thank you. You didn't have to help us."

  Mama's eyes went soft for a moment before she laughed it off. "Nah, I coulda let you go out there and leave a bloodtrail as wide as Atlanta. Sure."

  "He's right, though," said Chris. "Thank you."

  She grinned and waved them off. "It's nothin', really. Anybody'd do it." She pulled her soup bowl back toward her and sipped at her spoon. "Tell the truth, I don't mind the company. Too much time alone ain't good for the soul." She ate another spoonful and looked at Chris. "Though I do prefer company that don't leave the toilet seat up," she remarked pointedly.

  "Message received," answered Chris as another rivulet of soup made its way down his beard.

  13

  "Here?" asked Chaz, with more than a little disbelief.

  Charlie walked down to the end of the parking lot and back, watching the needle turn to point to the small building as she moved. "Here." She placed the compass on her seat and gathered her blonde hair up in a ponytail with one swift motion. She withdrew her pistol and checked the clip. Full.

  "Aren't we going to wait? Maybe keep our distance and do some surveillance." asked Chaz nervously.

  "You are," replied Charlie. "Park the mustang over there, between those bushes." She pointed toward the end of the lot.

  "She'll get scratched up," frowned Chaz.

  Charlie made a noise of disgust. “Park the car and wait until I get back," she continued. "I'm just going to loop around the building quickly, I'm not going to take any chances."

  "I've met you, you know," scoffed the young man, brushing his tousled red hair out of his face as he ducked back into the mustang. "You're not Charlie 'Take-No-Chances' Parker. You're Charlie 'Bust-In-Shooting' Parker."

  "Just get," she sighed. The sun was beginning its ascent, but she felt no drowsiness from their all-night drive. Her senses were alert and she was already moving around the side of the building, taking clinical glances at every detail she passed. The building was old, but not decrepit, and it was clearly taken care of. Someone lived here, she guessed, and just ran their shop out of the front. That someone was probably named "Mama LaVey," she figured from the sign above the entrance, "Mama LaVey's Psychic Hotline." Charlie rolled her eyes in disgust. She hated dealing with amateurs. Rounding the back corner of the building, she was surprised to see a well-tended garden behind a small back patio.

  "I got a 'No Guns' sign out front, lady."

  Charlie whirled around, keeping her pistol aimed at the ground, her muscles tense and ready. She relaxed somewhat when she saw a very large black woman, one hand on her hip, looking at her through the back door screen. "Did you? Must have missed it," she replied evenly.

  "Want some breakfast? I'm frying up some bacon and eggs, got enough for you and your friend out front," offered the woman dryly. "Might as well come in and eat instead of prowlin' round my garden scarin' my tomatahs."

  Charlie signed and placed her handgun back in its holster, flicking the safety back on. "Are you Ms. LaVey? We have some questions for you," she started, fishing out her FBI badge.

  The woman glared at Charlie. "It's Mama, not Miss. A
nd come through the front door if you wanna talk to me. It'll be open." With that, she shut the backdoor and disappeared.

  Who's the amateur again? thought Charlie, irritated. She stomped around the front and toward the bushes. The mustang was parked behind the bushes, not between them, and there wasn't a scratch on it. She growled under her breath.

  "What'd you see?" asked Chaz in a hoarse whisper, leaning out of the driver's side window.

  "Breakfast. Come on," she replied, not bothering to mask the annoyance in her voice.

  She figured Chaz knew better than to question her when she was irritated, and she was right. He rolled up his window and locked the door, then turned on his heel to follow her toward the house.

  14

  "Why do I need to eat, Kyrri? Or sleep? How can I even sleep, if my body's already asleep?" Gina munched on her bread, which was soft and fresh. She shook her head as she swallowed. "It's so weird."

  "I don't know, Gina-Dreamer," answered Kyrri, who was sharpening a claw against a stone he held in his other paw. "All Dreamers sleep and eat and everything else we do. It's not weird to us."

  Gina finished her snack and rose to her feet tentatively. The dizziness was almost entirely gone and her vision was sharp, but she still felt a little fuzzy. "I think we can leave soon," she said, bouncing her weight between each foot. "I feel a lot better."

  "We promised Minah you would pass her test before you leave," reminded Kyrri.

  Gina sighed. Minah had checked her visual and body acuity four times since Gina had been here, and each time Gina had failed, proving her concussion was still active enough to require observation. "Yeah. Any word from your grandfather yet?"

  Kylvan had ordered four scouts to travel out in each direction from Ulthar, searching for news of a blonde, blue-eyed stranger, and spreading news that Battleleader Kylvan was offering a healthy reward for any news that led to his safe discovery. That news had eased Gina's mind tremendously, and led her to make the promise to Minah - surely fast-moving Cats who knew the terrain would be able to find something faster than Gina could, especially while she was still having trouble remaining vertical. But as the days had passed, marked by meals and escorted trips to the gardens outside, Gina grew more and more anxious to leave, healed or not. And while she greatly appreciated their hospitality, there was a core of guilt within her that she was taking so much from them. Dream or not, they felt real and individual, and Gina didn’t like taking advantage of people she didn’t have to. Even feline ones. "Not yet. Dusty thought he might have found something to the north, but it was a false lead. More zoogs than normal, though." Kyrri growled low at the thought.

  "Why are you all helping me?" The question had been bothering Gina, but she had been afraid to voice it. Kyrri had been a constant presence by her bedside, his armor on at all times, standing guard while she slept and answering her constant questions in her waking hours. She was surprised at how quickly she had grown to trust the young Cat, especially considering her ability to read people didn't seem to work here. At least, not any more than any other human; certainly not in the deep, probing way she'd been able to before. She still tested it occasionally, but the buzzing noise was ever-present, and it grew painful when she tried. And behind all of it, the understanding that these strange and gracious creatures were allowing their own to venture into harm's way to help her find someone they didn't know baffled her. "I don't understand it. I appreciate it, don't get me wrong," she added quickly.

  "Aiding a Dreamer is a high calling," explained Kyrri, setting his sharpening stone to the side. "It is always important. A Dreamer's quest is always vital, to both worlds."

  "It's not, though, I mean, not really," she argued. "It is to me. It's my fault Morgan ended up here, and I swear I'll get him out, but it's not a world-ending thing."

  "It is always vital," he repeated. "The lessons say so."

  "Well, I hate to disappoint, but I won't say no to the help."

  Kyrri slid his stone into one of the leather pouches along his belly and clasped the flap shut. "I'll get Minah, if you really think you're ready?"

  Gina nodded, and Kyrri bounded out of the room.

  Experimentally, Gina strode across the room to the door. She nodded, pleased with the progress. Her gait was strong and her line was straight, not the wobbly, unsteady shuffle she'd managed before.

  "Well, hello, Gina-Dreamer," chirped Minah as she slipped through the door. "Are we feeling fit as a kit today?" The lovely silver Cat sat in front of Gina and placed the pad of her left paw against Gina's forehead. "You are no longer feverish!" exclaimed Minah joyously. "Excellent!"

  Gina found herself smiling, as she usually did in Minah's presence. "I feel much better, Minah. I think I'm ready to pass your test."

  "Oh-ho! Well, let's find out," announced Minah. She placed both paws on Gina's chest and drew herself up on her hind legs. Standing this way, she was as tall as Gina. "Follow my claw," ordered Minah, extending her right foreclaw and moving it slowly in front of Gina's eyes.

  "Okay."

  "Good, good." Minah dropped back to all fours and resumed her seat. "Much better! Now, walk in a straight line from here to the bed and back, if you please."

  Gina did as she was told, walking steadily and quickly along. Why is this harder when you're concentrating on it? she wondered, but returned to Minah's side with limited difficulty.

  “Excellent! Follow me, please, Dreamer." Minah turned and trotted out the door. Gina followed closely, and could hear the faint whisper of leather plates rubbing against one another as Kyrri trotted behind her. They walked briskly through the tall corridors of the palace until they emerged in the high garden overlooking the city of Ulthar. Gina smiled; she loved the hours she'd spent sitting here, talking with Kyrri and watching the colorful, bustling market streets below. "Please tell me the furthest details you can make out," asked Minah, looking up at her expectantly.

  Gina walked to the short wall and crouched behind it, leaning over the plaster and peering into the city below. She scanned the streets, aiming several streets up from where she'd previously tried. Her vision had cleared considerably, she noticed, and she really could see a lot more detail. "There, four streets up. There's a small boy sitting against the wall in the shadow of that red stall, he's eating something, see? He's sharing a piece of bread or muffin or something with a squirrel, or a mouse or something he's got in his sash. Something furry."

  "That's a lot of 'somethings,'" commented Minah evenly as she strolled up to join Gina at the edge.

  "I'm not a cat. My vision isn't as good as yours," grumbled Gina.

  "It does appear to be a mouse, I can see the whiskers," commented Minah, her eyes slitted.

  Gina rolled her eyes. "Well, I can't see the whiskers, no."

  "Then I am gladdened that Kyrri will be joining you. His eyes are better," purred Minah, and Gina noticed Kyrri puff up with pride. Minah turned to her and bowed low. "I think that's sufficient, Gina-Dreamer. Thank you for letting me assist you. You are in good health."

  "Yes!" exclaimed Kyrri, head-butting Gina's leg. "You passed!" He bounced on his feet.

  "Battleleader Kylvan has requested that you visit him before you leave, if you would," continued Minah.

  "Has there been word from the scouts?" pressed Gina, rising to her feet.

  "I don't believe so, but I am not privy to everything that passes to the Battleleader’s ears,” she answered, chagrined. "I was under the impression he just wanted to wish you well on your journey."

  "Thank you for everything, Minah," said Gina, and she meant it sincerely.

  "It was my honor," she replied. "But please, do not keep the Battleleader waiting on my account. I will be pleased to aid you again if I can in the future." She raised a velvet paw in farewell and a deep purr sounded in her throat.

  "Let's go!" chirped Kyrri, trotting to the door and motioning for Gina to follow him. Gina turned to look once more at the view of the city. It really is beautiful, she thought, drinking in th
e colorful banners and the swaths of bright cloth that protected each market stall from the midday sun. Men and women swarmed through the streets, buying and selling, eating and laughing and yelling, a bright contrast to the serene breeze blowing through the silent flowers in the rooftop garden.

  "Let's go," she agreed, running a few steps to catch up to the excited young Cat. They wove their way through the corridors, taking a few turns that were unfamiliar to Gina. She saw two heavily armored Cats standing guard at the end of a long hall. Kyrri slunk up to one of them and whispered something, and the guard opened the door with a flourish, his tail twitching. Both guards bowed low as she passed between them.

  "Ah! Dreamer!" boomed Kylvan, gently pushing aside his advisors. "And Kyrri. Good. Minah has set you free, then?"

  "She doesn't seem to think I'll kill myself walking out of the palace anymore, no," replied Gina, shifting uncomfortably. She was never sure how to act around Kylvan, if she was supposed to bow or use certain words, and it still hit her occasionally that these were talking cats, and that fact was simply outside of her normal wheelhouse. She did her best to just join the flow of conversation.

  "Thank you for taking the time to see me once more before you leave. I'm sure you are chafing to go," he said, and motioned for his advisors to leave the room. They did so, bowing quickly to Gina and, she noticed, to Kyrri, before scuttling out. "I'm sorry, I still have no news from our scouts," he added, seeing that Gina was about to speak.

  Gina clamped her mouth shut.

  "This is not a small world, Dreamer. No smaller than your own," he continued, his voice lower. "I have my doubts that my scouts will be able to find any news that will be useful. But I have had another idea." He sighed heavily. "I think you must visit the King."

  Kyrri took a step back involuntarily. Gina looked at him quizzically, but he was watching his grandfather with surprise in his yellow-green eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. "I thought you were the king."