Captive of Dreams: Netherworld, #2

By Christie Rich

I used to think I was safe when I dream…now, I know better.

You see, when you go to sleep, there's a whole other magical world. It exists in your head, but it's no less real than the one you occupy when you're conscious. Supernatural creatures lurk in the shadows, desperate to steal part of your soul so they can thrive. You might think your depression or aches and pains are caused by stress. I know better, and I'm trying to do something about it. But the darkness is slippery and being a dream warrior is harder than it sounds. 

My name is Amelia Blake, and I'm a dreamwalker. I'm also one of the only things standing between you and a horde of nightmarish soul-suckers. Although I recently escaped the Erobos and wasn't infected by Eros, I am not the same. Unfortunately, others on my team are noticing. All I know is I need to find a way to break Seth's curse. It's the only option if we're going to win…and we have to win. I don't know who to trust or what will happen next but trusting the wrong person will tie me and everyone I'm trying to protect to permanent darkness. 

Wish me luck…I'm going to need it.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christie Rich
• Release date: Aug 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393103967

Christie Rich

A professional consultant, Christie Rich has spent the last decade reading and writing sweeping fantasy romance novels in her spare time.  Whether paranormal or epic fantasy, love of reading continues to fuel her imagination. Christie lives with her husband and children in a quiet community in Utah where she enjoys exploring scenic vistas and meeting friendly people.

Book preview

Captive of Dreams

Captive of Dreams

Netherworld Book 2

Christie Rich

Christie Rich

Contents

Untitled

Prologue

Chapter 1

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 2

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 3

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 4

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 5

Seth

Amelia

6. ֎

Seth

Chapter 7

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 8

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 9

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 10

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 11

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 12

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 13

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 14

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 15

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 16

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 17

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 18

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Chapter 19

Seth

Amelia

Seth

Epilogue

Also by Christie Rich

To Max for always loving me even in my darkest hours…

Copyright © Christie L. Rich 2013

Cover Design by Christie Rich

Edited by Chase Nottingham

All rights reserved. This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, digital, mechanical, photographing, screen-capturing, recording, or otherwise, or delivered via the Internet or a web site without prior written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations for the purpose of critical articles and reviews, or as is provided explicitly by the sharing features of this application.

This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.

Created with Vellum Created with Vellum

Prologue

Amelia

My world will never be the same. I’ve seen too much, know too much to ever go back to my innocence—before I knew anything about the Dreamscape, before I knew anything about light and dark.

I used to think the world was what I made of it. At least, I hoped it was, but now . . . the world is a crazy place that’s only a small blip in what’s out there.

Considering my cracked-up childhood, I never thought I’d have a normal life, exactly, but I always hoped. I wanted it all: the smoking hot husband, a few kids, a nice home, cool job, if I could have ever figured out what I wanted to be. Those ideals are lost to me. The thought of bringing kids into a world where dark creatures can steal their souls is just wrong.

You see, when you go to sleep, there’s a whole other world. It exists in your head, but it’s no less real than the one you occupy when you’re awake. Creatures lurk in the shadows, desperate to steal what makes life worth living. They latch on to human life force and suck us dry until nothing remains but withered shells.

They’re called Eros. Supposedly, they’re the scattered remains of a primordial being responsible for dispersing love in the universe, until he was cursed for cheating on his wife with a mortal.

I don’t know if I buy the myth, but Eros exist. I’ve felt their sting, and I never want to live through the horror again. Unfortunately, Eros are only half of the problem.

Humans are supposed to have protectors—beings keeping us grounded and helping us manage our lives through dreams. They’re called Oneiroi, pronounced Oh-near-EE. Stupid name, but that’s beside the point. Where there used to be millions, only four are left to help our planet. The rest have been converted to Erobos. Once they craved light to sustain them; now they foster darkness. The Eros saw to that.

I experienced Eros tonight, and I have to say they’re scary suckers, the weirdest I’ve ever seen. With ghostly bodies holding no shape of their own, they cycle through forms and faces faster than my mind can register them. In an extremely odd way, they’re beautiful.

When they attacked my team, I didn’t know what else to do, so I called them to me. There were tens of thousands of them floating around, trying to find a body to inhabit. Kelsby got the worst of it. I’m still trying to figure out what he does for Seth, but I didn’t exactly have enough time to get the lowdown. Kelsby can’t exactly move very fast, considering his large girth and spindly legs. He’s able to jump better than a jackrabbit on roids, but the normal stuff’s hard for him.

Seth wanted me to let him be captured, but I couldn’t do it. When the Eros got him, his face contorted in the worst expression of pain I’d ever seen. Now I know why. They took something from me I might never be able to get back.

When an Eros latches on, it sends a rush of endorphins or something through your body that makes you feel like you’re walking on a cloud, followed by zings of electricity that fry your insides. They deliver these blasts of pleasure-pain in waves that freeze your muscles and your will. I could barely even think by the time I got them off me.

In a weird way I felt sorry for them. I mean, it would be horrible to not have a body, but they need to be stopped. I don’t know if they’re exactly evil, but they certainly aren’t good.

My compassion for the things was what saved me. I sent bright, white hope at them and they couldn’t handle it. They blew up into ash, as if I’d infused my emotions with dynamite. The thing is for a moment, they were beautiful. They took the form of ethereal angels before they converted back to the hideous slide show. Then, one by one, they blew up. I’m thinking I got all of the ones that were in the Dreamscape, but it’s hard to be sure when you’re falling toward a boiling lava lake.

Make no mistake, though, I paid a price for my heroics. I thought I could go on with a piece of me missing. I might be wrong.

Chapter 1

Amelia

The quiet moments are the hardest, even in the Dreamscape. Despair wants to take root in my gut, but I won’t have it.

I’m lying here in my dream world under the light of a blazing sun waiting for Seth to come back. Rugged cliffs jut overhead to a staggering height while mist from the waterfall coats my skin in dewy pearls. Here, there’s always a warm breeze, with just enough force to keep me cool. It brings with it the sultry scent of a lovers’ paradise.

Without Seth it’s empty.

It should be peaceful.

Yet, I’m restless.

For a while, I wasn’t aware of anything but a black cocoon. I think I needed time to recover.

The last thing I remember, Seth was kissing me senseless. He’s gone now.

Seth is one of those Oneiroi I told you about. He brought me into this mess without giving me much of an option, even though he says I agreed to the whole thing beforehand. Somehow, the memory escapes me.

I wish I could remember every detail of the time he and I spent together, when I thought he was another man. It’s as if the memories are somewhere in my head, but I can’t quite recall them.

Maybe I’m protecting myself. Maybe I’m delusional.

There’s always the off chance I’ll wake up in a hospital room somewhere. At least I know people in a coma dream. Tears for a woman I never met push against my eyes. Charlotte’s in a better place, I tell myself. Maybe she’s with Justine? The tears spill over from just remembering my grandma’s name.

I’m losing it, so I stand up. Dizziness sets me to swaying, but I manage to stay upright. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes. It helps a bit.

The weakness hasn’t abated, but I don’t have time to lie here any longer. I’ve got to find Seth. We need a plan.

Rustling from the forest startles me. I whirl, expecting Seth, but the dark-haired stranger from my dreams stands a few feet away. I once danced with him in Charlotte’s world, yet I don’t know a thing about him.

His green eyes travel to my toes and back up. Seriously, I don’t have to put up with being checked out by a dream.

What do you want? I ask in a cold voice that makes me flinch. Who are you?

He laughs. Don’t you think you got those questions backwards?

I give him a scowl and wait. His jaw clamps shut before he says, Business, is it?

I nod.

He returns the gesture, but doesn’t speak for a moment. I hate silence. There are so many things it could mean.

After a few moments, he motions toward my favorite boulder. I shake my head, still waiting for him to tell me who the hell he is.

He gives me a slanted smirk, and I look away.

Being the gentleman, he walks to my spot under the waterfall and settles in. Who I am will take a lot of explanation. My name is Brock, and I am your protector.

I make a face. Maybe you should consider another line of work.

He tucks a hand around the back of his neck, his bicep bunching in a way that makes me stare. Love to. Not an option. Your father would kill me.

My insides coil. My father?

He’s the one that assigned me to look after you.

Every cell inside me screams for me to take this guy to the ground . . . show him just how tired I am of liars. My father is dead.

Brock leans back, propping himself on his elbows. He’s very much alive, Amelia.

A rush of fear slices into me. My dad wasn’t exactly the poster child for fatherhood. Both he and my mom were drug addicts. From a very early age, I had to fend for myself while they sat on the couch and shot up or snorted white lines of crack. After my mom died, my dad tried to take care of me, but the state took me away from him after he dropped me out of a window and broke my collar bone. I was lucky I walked away from the fall.

A fine sheen of sweat coats my skin while my muscles clench underneath. I don’t care if he’s alive, and I don’t need you to protect me. I hate to break it to you, but you’ve done a horrible job.

He laughs, flashing me a crisp smile. There are things you don’t know—

By this time, I’m ready to dropkick Brock where he sits. Really? I never would have guessed.

He pats a small spot beside him. Sit.

Go to hell. I don’t have time for more secrets. I don’t even bother to glance at him before I head for the trees.

Amelia, he says, all secretive like, "trust me, you do not want to see what’s on the other side of that jungle."

I stop, glancing over my shoulder, but I don’t turn around. You don’t know me. Don’t pretend you do.

He tucks his hands into his dark, skinny jeans that are a little on the too skinny side. I know more than you think . . . I’m like you.

Damn. Why’d he have to say that? I don’t want to talk to this guy. I need to find Seth, not stick around while my dad’s lackey tries to manipulating me, but I’m also curious.

I groan. One of these days, I’m gonna figure out a cure for my inner Sherlock. Unfortunately, today is not that day. I take one last look at the lush tree line and shrug. Seth would want me to figure out who this guy is. The thing is Seth promised me he’d be here when I woke up.

I shouldn’t be worried, but I can’t kick this pit growing in my gut. Seth doesn’t lie. There has to be something wrong.

Seth

Shadows dance and spin around me. All has stilled to whirrs of metal and grunts or, in Peter’s case, groans.

A knock sounds at the door before Kelsby says, May I come in, Seth? I would like a word with you and your brothers. I don’t have time to answer him before he jiggles the handle.

We’re on lockdown, I yell. Get everyone out of here!

Sir?

Leave, Kelsby!

Peter laughs, dark and cynical. His voice is layered with numerous sounds, as those who reside inside him fight for control. I stab him again, and he groans then screams out a curse.

The only chance he has is if we can create so much pain within him the Eros cannot sustain a permanent connection. Once they leave him, we can dispatch them.

Getting them out now will take hours, if Peter doesn’t lose consciousness first. Either way, we will have to move him to the containment chamber in the basement, just as a precaution.

After Ian and I took care of the majority of Eros escaping our tainted brother, no others seemed to want to make our acquaintance.

Once again, my thoughts stray to Amelia, but I can’t allow myself to linger on her. If I fail to eliminate this threat, all will be lost. When my brothers and I went into the hostile world to rescue my team, I had been too concerned about Ian. I didn’t think to consider much about Peter. I haven’t seen him in years, which was a mistake. We will have to rethink our strategy once we contain the darkness . . . if we can contain the darkness.

Of late, my brothers and I have lost our focus, which has nearly cost us our realm and our connection with Earth. Without humans we cannot survive. We are as dependent on them as they are on us. Until we stumbled on the Eros, we had a natural arrangement with homo-sapiens. The Eros change Oneiroi nature. They infect us with the desire for darkness, even though light is our preference, our sustenance.

Although our relationship is strained, Peter came to help me when he heard about Amelia. I’ve wanted to throttle him in the past, but inflicting this level of pain on him is eating my soul. No matter what, we cannot let the Eros make a permanent connection with Peter. They attach through neural synapses, but in order to maintain a hold, they need control of the central nervous system. They will not be able to connect fully to Peter if we can keep them in his periphery.

Just when I think we’ve got them all, two more Eros slip out of Peter’s fingertips. They have no cogent form, so they swivel and shift in the air as if on a current. Their dark shapes are barely visible in the near black room; however, I need no visual cue to locate the creatures.

Their presence sits on my heart, making my breaths shallow and my movements quick. Sweat drips into my eyes, but I have no time to wipe it away before another Eros comes at me. My blade slices the thing in half, and it disintegrates into ash.

When another knock at the door rings out, I shout at Zed. "Deal with Kelsby, but do not open that door."

My office was designed for this type of scenario, but it would be much better to have Peter locked up at a truly secure location, not here, fifty feet from my entire team.

If the noise level is any indication, Kelsby has informed them of our situation. We must work on a better evacuation plan.

Ian’s blades disturb the air by my face. I shift back, then spin away. I’m not giving him leave to slice me up. Peter makes another strangled groan, so I stab him again.

If he didn’t already, he will want to kill me when this is over. I’ve got to get the lights back on, but I haven’t been able to focus well enough yet.

As if responding to my thoughts, the lights in the room blaze on, making me squint. Ian has Peter in a chokehold, cutting off his air. His hazel eyes clamp on to mine as Peter stops twitching. Eros can do nothing when a host is unconscious. They lie dormant until they can trigger a neural response.

Perhaps I should have considered asphyxiation first? No matter. My blade disappears at my command, but Ian retains his. He shakes his head. His eyes are still wild and his breath is erratic, as is mine. Zed, on the other hand, watches us from the doorway with barely a hair out of place.

I readjust my shirt and shoot a glare at Zed. Thanks for your help.

I was manning the door, as you asked me to, brother. He flashes a toothy grin. You two had it under control.

No thanks to you, says Ian. He picks up Peter’s feet and swivels his chair for me. A little help?

Sure. Take the light end. I tuck my arms through Peter’s armpits and hoist him up. Peter is a good two hundred and thirty pounds and dead weight is not easy to manage. When I look behind me, Zed stands there, not having made a move to open the door. Must I command him in everything?

His smile lifts fractionally. Zed is a closet sadist.

Thankfully, he manages to swing the door open before we reach him. We have multiple flights to go, and we will need all our strength to get Peter down the stairs. I should morph into a gorilla, but I don’t dare take the time. I must deal with him, come up with a plan with my remaining brothers and return to Amelia. My hope is that she is still resting, but knowing her, she is up and about already.

We make it to the stairwell without much fuss, but I stiffen when I notice Peter’s fingers twitch a couple of times. Neither Ian nor I are equipped to manage him at the moment, and Zed is already two flights below us.

Ian seems determined to avoid my gaze, but I ask anyway. When was the last time you spoke with Peter?

Taking a sniff, Ian shifts Peter’s feet higher. Two years, maybe three. You?

At least three hundred, but the timing wasn’t by my choosing.

A gusty chortle shoots out of Ian. You deserved the cold shoulder.

You wanted Rhea, as well. Do not play the innocent with me.

I never said I was innocent. You were obviously more convincing than I was. His eyes narrow. Wonder if it still holds true?

I lose my grip on Peter, but catch him before his head smacks the railing. Are you looking for a thrashing, Ian?

He laughs. If I were, you wouldn’t be the soul to deliver it.

My brow lifts. Care to test your theory?

Enough bickering, gentlemen, says Zed from below. We have more pressing matters to discuss, and diversions will not help us resolve our most grievous problems.

Ian lets out a long huff. Yapping your jaws won’t help us get Peter to the underground, either.

You two are managing the deed just fine from where I’m standing.

Having had enough of the squabble, I decide my previous idea was best. I take a deep breath and concentrate. My arms elongate while black fur covers my face and skin. My shirt shreds, and my pants rip along the seams.

Ian shrugs and drops Peter’s legs, which leaves me to drag him down the staircase. It takes a matter of minutes to descend to the basement. I have Peter propped under one beefy arm without any difficulty. When he squirms, I punch him square in his jaw. He goes limp, once again.

A musty smell reaches into my lungs, making me cough. It’s been a long while since we’ve been to the lower levels. We’ve had no need.

Zed yanks open the door and ushers me through. Once I have Peter secure in his cell, I morph back into my human form.

The lights are covered with a film of dust, casting the room in a yellow haze. Everything here is coated with a thick layer of grime. I’ve neglected more than my duties, it seems.

My remaining brothers and I move some chairs to a more suitable arrangement for conversation.

Zed is the first to speak. We must not let the needs of humans overshadow ours. If we continue on our course, the outcome will be disastrous for both races.

Agreed, I say, taking the opportunity to glance at Peter, who is still out cold, or is pretending. He must start the decontamination process; however, it might be better to let Amelia have a go at him.

She could probably accomplish with one touch what would take us days. The trouble is I’m not sure how Amelia’s interaction with Eros has affected her.

Erobos are bad enough to deal with, but she had to face the true threat to my race and hers. Eros are neither good nor evil, yet they can be both.

From what we understand of them, they seek only power to unite into one form again. By nature, humans are light. For this reason Oneiroi came to their world, but we quickly learned humans have a dark side that, when fed, can become more devious than any other race we’ve encountered.

Eros have latched onto the darkness and have nearly won. The only four Oneiroi remaining are in this room, and one is compromised.

I pull my matted hair out of my eyes and stare at Peter. How has it come to this?

The answer swirls inside me: I let lust for a woman rule me. Rhea was a cancer none of us expected. When she came to us, we had only lost a few thousand to the Eros. They had become Erobos, fostering darkness for the Eros inside them. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we all fell.

Would I care anymore?

Would I regret like I do now?

Looking at Peter is too painful. I betrayed his trust. I may not have been the first to pursue Rhea, but Peter blames me for turning her head.

She was like no other Sibylline I had known. She was as a siren of the sea. I could not control my desire for her. I did everything in my power to make her mine, but she never could have been mine.

She belonged to another.

Volos was the first of our kind to turn Erobos. He soaked up so many Eros, they could not be numbered.

Ian’s gaze pulls my attention to him. I have to explain. My brothers and I agreed we wouldn’t choose a recruit, possibly a mate, until after the conflict with the Erobos was over . . . until after we’d reclaimed our fallen brethren; however, I’ve discovered our decision was a mistake—one I’m sure Rhea hoped we’d make. Her curse has left me wary to the point of defeat. None of my brothers know the exact extent of the spell — I hope they never will.

Ian’s anger radiates into me, making me stiffen. He has a right to be upset, but the accusation in his gaze still rankles. I shift on my chair, lifting an ankle to my knee. It’s difficult to know where to start. We were wrong, Ian.

He leans back and crosses his arms, his eyes boring into mine. You should have told us you had changed your mind before you made such a decision. He glances at Zed. You, too.

When Zed approached me about Olivia, I should have been angry with him, yet I was relieved. I spread my hands. We shall find a recruit for you, Ian. You needn’t worry.

Ian’s stare turns into a glower. None of us has time to devote to a recruit. Are you willing to risk your eternity so easily?

Keeping myself steady, I answer, I did not come to my decision lightly, brother.

He shakes his head, jaw muscles jumping. It wasn’t your decision to make. We had an accord.

The justification rolls out of me so easily. Amelia is unlike any Sibylline I’ve seen. Her purity is without question. She has been through much in her short life and has not succumbed to the darkness.

Ian glances at Peter, which draws my attention. Peter’s still where I laid him. Once he wakes, we can assess the situation more fully. The equipment will only work while he is conscious.

Ian’s voice cuts off my thoughts. He wasn’t bad off the last time I saw him. He moves to the bars, leaning in as if to get a better look. It’s only been a few weeks. I’ve stayed in contact with him, and he seemed fine.

Odd. Nothing so drastic should happen in that short of time. How do you think he was compromised?

Sighing, Ian shrugs. His quadrant has been overrun with darkness lately. Perhaps it became too much for him, and he was too stubborn to ask for help?

It’s impossible to know without speaking to him. Perhaps, I agree, giving Ian a mournful frown. I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.

His hard expression does not change. After a casual tilt to his head, he pushes his chair onto two legs, leaning against the dust covered wall. Intense curiosity suffuses his tone. How did you find her?

My mind spins backward until I recall the moment I sensed Amelia. "I was searching for a new access portal and stumbled upon her world. At first glance, it seemed like any other Erobos tainted sphere. Because I was particularly weak, I did a search anyway, looking for some sign life there. That was when I felt her.

I was both curious and cautious when I approached her. Somehow, she had created a shield within her world. The outer layer seemed to have been harvested, yet once I passed her barriers, her world was more alive than any I had ever encountered. Ian narrows his eyes but lets me continue. I withdrew almost immediately. Her life force was too bright to handle after having lived on the dimming remnants within my territories. The one encounter fueled me for days.

Ian grunts while Zed’s brows lift. A satisfied smile attaches to his lips. Zed has stayed silent until now. Amelia is quite a prize, but we still need to trace her origins.

Frustration rises in me. For the last time, she is not Orphic. She couldn’t be of the same lineage as Rhea.

Peter’s voice echoes mine. She is not simply Sibylline, either, Seth.

The chair I occupy clatters to the ground when I stand. Peter’s head turns toward me. His dark hair falls over his eyes, making it hard to gauge his mood or his situation. When he finally lifts his face, his eyes remain clear, but his lips are pulled in the tell-tale pain Eros inflict.

"How many?’ I ask him.

Hundreds . . . at least, he says, his voice strained.

The decontamination starts. I wince as electricity slithers along his skin. His eyes never leave mine, his face contorting with agony he should not be feeling.

I will not drop his gaze. I’ve caused this, which makes his suffering mine to bear the only way I can.

In my periphery Ian rises, then he’s gone. Zed follows him into the other room as Peter screams. I watch on, resolving to make this right, somehow.

Amelia

Istand stiff as a stick, waiting for this guy to enlighten me about who I am, or at the very least, who he is.

All he does is study me. I study him back. His dark brown hair is nearly black, just like mine. His eyes are green, just like mine. Somehow, I thought he had brown eyes, but which is the deception? An odd thought strikes me. Could Brock be my brother? The idea both excites and horrifies. As much as I always wanted a sibling, he’s not what I expected. My dad was messed up. If he didn’t die in an accident all those years ago, what happened to him?

It really wouldn’t have mattered for me. Considering what happened, there was no way the State would have given me back to him, but now I wonder why he abandoned me. My mom died; apparently he didn’t have that excuse.

After a few more moments of staring at each other, I finally cave. Who are you, Brock?

His eyes narrow slightly before he gives in. As I said before, I am your protector.

The breeze keeps blowing my hair into my eyes, so I pull it out of the way. Right, and as I said, you’ve done a crap job. You could have helped me out before Seth came to get me, or, I don’t know, I lost part of my soul in the Dreamscape.

His face blanches, but he remains stoic. I serve you, but I also serve our race, Amelia. I cannot hinder what’s destined.

Seriously? Destiny is a load. No one gets to say what happens to me but me.

He smiles, the smarmy set of his mouth meant to charm. Definitely not my brother. I hope. Too true, but there are also things we cannot alter.

His philosophical garbage is getting on my nerves. "If this is how you’re going to talk to me, I’m outta here."

He tilts his head, eyeing me up and down. You’ve always been too anxious.

I’d love to wipe the serene expression right off his face. You try living my life and see if you come away anything else.

Without so much as a hair out of place, he goes on. Our kind has existed since this world was created. We’ve blended in with humans, adopted their culture, hailed their kings, and lived under their rule, but we are not the same as them.

I blink at him, expecting him to tell me something really out there next, but a tiny part of me nods her head at him. Still, I’m skeptical. If we aren’t human, what are we?

Oracles, at our basest form. We have abilities humans do not possess.

My BS-ometer is starting to beep at me. "Really? If that’s true, why didn’t my dad use some of his abilities to deal with life instead of finding it in a pipe?"

His tone lowers with barely concealed anger. "Your father did what he needed to do. He raised you in the way that would best