Chapter 6
Wishes are for dreamers
I’m not a dreamer
“Charlie, stop it,” she mumbled, refusing to open her eyes. She was so tired. The tingling in her hand, the one that Charlie still clasped in his sleep, grew sharper until the uncomfortable numbness of it accelerated into acute pain. “Charlie.” Ari tugged her hand from his and opened her eyes. Shifting her head on her pillow, she realized her best friend was still sleeping. Ari flexed her hand, willing the needle-like pain away, but it swam up her arm, nipping at muscle and agitating blood. She hissed, reaching out to clasp the arm with her other hand. A slight panic built as the pain escalated into her other arm.
“What the…” she trembled now, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “Charlie,” she whispered, wanting to wake him up but reluctant to unearth him from his peaceful sleep when he so clearly needed it.
The tingling started in her feet.
Her heart banged in her chest.
Cold sweat broke out under her arms.
What the hell was going on?
As the pain grew steadily worse, Ari knew she needed to wake Charlie. Something was seriously wrong with her. Holding in her panic, she reached over to shake him awake and bit back a scream.
Her hand.
Her hand was gone!
Ari watched in horror as the limb disappeared, like some invisible mouse had come along and was photoshopping her body out of the picture.
The organ in her chest slammed so hard and so fast, Ari was sure it was going to explode. “Charlie,” she squeaked as the fading sped up around her body. “Char—”
Her body was no longer cushioned by the soft comforter and mattress on her bed. Cold seeped into her bones, blanketed by a hard surface that may as well have been a slab of Antarctic ice.
Had she fallen out of bed?
A sharp memory of her limbs disappearing before her very eyes flashed across her closed eyelids and Ari lifted an arm, patting her chest where her heart still raced.
It had been a dream.
Just a dream.
Thank the ever loving gods.
Groaning, Ari shifted her head and her neck complained with a crick, her hair sliding across a slippery surface.
What the…?
Okay. I am definitely not in my bed.
Afraid to open her eyes, Ari took a minute, breathing slowly in and out, trying to calm her heartbeat, a heartbeat that raced so hard she was close to throwing up. Another shock of icy chill slithered up and along her body from the floor. Ari’s eyes popped open.
Her chest tightened, feeling the familiar symptoms of an oncoming anxiety attack. Letting go of a shaky breath, Ari pushed herself up, glancing down at the cold mirrored floor beneath her. Her shadowy reflection, mottled by the artistic bubbling of the mirror, flickered back at her like a stranger. Patting herself down as she drew to her feet, ignoring the bout of dizziness determined to lay her flat out on the floor, Ari realized she was wearing the same clothes she’d worn at the party. Raising her head, she took in her alien surroundings and tried to rationalize, tried to stay calm. She was dreaming. Clearly, she was dreaming.
She pinched herself and winced in pain.
“Doesn’t mean anything,” she whispered, staring at the stone walls that glittered and sparkled in the candlelight. She peered closer. The twinkling flash of color here and there attributed to the small precious stones inset into the walls. They looked like emeralds. “I’m just dreaming.” She nodded. “People have really vivid dreams like this. I’ve read about it. Maybe someone spiked my drink at the party and I’m on some kind of ‘trip’.” She exhaled heavily, glancing over the huge four-poster bed with its billowing silk canopy of fiery colors. There was no comforter on the bed, which surprised her considering how cold the air in here was, but there was a decorative velvet blanket placed perfectly across the bottom, and millions of jewel-toned silk cushions scattered all over. The bed was the only splash of color in the entire place. The sparse furniture was as chilly as the atmosphere, cut and shaped from what looked like glass. “Must have been some drug,” she murmured, confused by the lack of electricity in the room. There wasn’t even a light switch.
So… what did one do on a drug trip? She glanced around. There was no one else here to entertain her. No TV, no laptop, no music—
Oh.
A purple vase on the nightstand drew her attention. Heat seemed to radiate from it, making the vase appear as if it were pulsing with life. Intrigued, Ari moved tentatively toward it. The chilly mirrored floor nipped at her bare feet. As she moved, the air cut around her and this musky, exotic scent tickled her olfactory senses, the floral headiness of it somehow familiar. It smelled like jasmine.