flowy white dress around my legs. My dream self is always in the height of fashion. Or has learned that she damned well better be since I started having Ziel dreams.
Ziel sits down near me and plucks a grape out of the bowl. He feeds it to me, like he always does, his thick fingers pressing the fruit to my lips, then slowly dragging over my bottom lip after I’ve taken the grape.
It’s the only intimate thing he ever does. I don’t have any idea why my subconscious would give me such a hot guy, one who actually listens, and then turn me into a damn prude…but she does. My subconscious is quite possibly ruled by a demon.
All the same, I live for the burn in Ziel’s gaze when he tells me, “Eat. Then tell me everything that went wrong.”
He leans back and stretches out along the clouds, watching me as I eat a few grapes. Then I lay back at his side, and we stare up at the empty expanse of blue sky above us—there are never any clouds up there—while I tell him about the party.
He listens and grunts and growls and gets angry at all the right parts. His outrage on my behalf makes me feel better, and I push up on my side, propping my head up on my elbow. My pink curls tumble around my head as I stare at him. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything.” He smiles his rocket ship smile, and it’s a moment before I can recover.
“You listen,” I tell him. “It makes it feel like I’m important for once.”
A sound pierces the dream, and I start to fade out of it, far sooner than I want to. But as I fade, I think I hear Ziel say, “You are important. You’re everything.” Just like a dream guy would.
Adam’s tiny voice pierces my ears. “Katty, I had a bad dream. Can I sleep with you?”
I pull my little brother into bed and get him tucked in beside me before I attempt to get back to Ziel. But I don’t make it back to the cloud meadow.
Instead, I dream about that stupid love spell and remember how Stacy yanked out my hair.
In the morning, when I wake up, my bed is empty—Adam’s gone. And my parents have taped their requisite “Out for the Day” note to their door.
But when I go downstairs, I don’t find my brother eating dry cereal and watching cartoons. I find him giggling and laughing. And sitting in the middle of five fucking strangers who’ve broken into our house.
3
For a moment, I’m rooted to the spot in horror, unable to peel my eyes away from the sight before me. My gaze sweeps over the men present, who are still oblivious to my lingering self at the base of the stairs.
The most logical solution is that these men work for Dad. Maybe business associates?
Yeah, I don’t believe that for one second.
Adam sits in the center of the leather couch, one of his favorite toy trains in his hands. He dubbed it the “Red Lizard,” despite the fact it’s blue and has no lizard whatsoever on it.
Two men sit on either side of him, listening attentively as he shows them his toy. The one on the right has reddish-brown, almost auburn hair with a slight curl. He’s wearing a white wifebeater that showcases a left arm covered in intricate tattoos. This man could rival any supermodel on a magazine cover. I know it’s weird to think about—for all I know, he could be planning my untimely murder—but shit, he’s sexy. He practically oozes raw sex-appeal.
If he does murder me, he’s definitely getting a TV show out of it. Housewives everywhere would pay to watch him confess.
The man on the other side of Adam is tall, with dark skin and even darker buzzed hair. He’s bedecked in a form-fitting suit that accentuates the muscles on his tall frame. This guy…this guy could totally work for my father. Maybe an accountant at his law firm? Yup. That makes complete, logical sense. Father must’ve asked a few of his most trusted associates to come over and…prosecute people. Yup. That’s totally what’s happening right now.
Because it’s completely ridiculous to believe that five men are here to kill us, right?
Right?!?
That thought dissipates like the rest of my hopes and dreams when I see the third man hovering over one of our plastic plants. It’s tiny, barely able to reach my chest, and has hundreds of green,