Bitter Dreams: The Dream World Chronicles, #2

By Chynna Pace

Alex should be enjoying her new life as a nightmare hunter in training. But when she, Zoey, and Kacper join the Circle—an exclusive dream world society—she finds herself facing numerous challenges. The pressures of starting a new academy, learning the magic of her heritage, and dealing with her peers are hard enough, but things get even more complicated when a new breed of nearly indestructible nightmares appears, the mystery of her father deepens, and an old prophecy looms over her like a death sentence. Will Alex be able to overcome the threats to her family—or will the hybrid nightmares and the one controlling them conquer her first?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chynna Pace
• Release date: Aug 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393687931

Book preview

Chapter 1

"W hat is she doing here?" asked the scrawny old man. His voice was high-toned and nasally, and when he spoke it sounded like he’d just guzzled a gallon of helium. So instead of being offended, I was tempted to giggle. I had to bite my lip hard to restrain myself.

Kacper, beside me in his long velvet cloak, said simply, I’m her Keeper. It’s required of me to bring her everywhere I go.

That was a lie. Just because Kacper had drawn my Somnus didn’t mean that we were suddenly attached at the hip now. The real reason I had accompanied him that night was curiosity. He had waited so long to get his certification and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Plus, I also wanted to know what I would be facing a year from now when it was my turn.

I see. The exam giver cut me a scolding look. It was the look I had seen on many teachers’ faces at my old school—a sneer that threatened to eat you alive if you even thought about cheating.

Clearly, this old guy thought I must’ve been there to try to help Kacper with his test. But I didn’t understand that—how could someone cheat on a practical exam? It wasn’t like I could pass Kacper a sheet of paper telling him when to chuck a tisane at a Mora. He wouldn’t need me for that, even if I could.

I’ll just be a spectator, I assured him.

The man was a Mr. Gene Jenkins and he reminded me of an old man that had been turned into a baby. His voice was certainly infantile. And he possessed the watery eyes and scowling mouth that made him look to be on the verge of throwing a fit at any moment. He was even bald! The only indication of his age was his wrinkled skin and wrinkled suit, a suit that suggested authority.

But he didn’t seem authoritative at all.

He didn’t even seem magical.

Yet his eyes were bright gold.

I’ll allow it, just this once, he said, begrudgingly. Then, pulling his black pea coat tighter around him, he sauntered off ahead of us, the moonlight reflecting off his shiny bald head.

Just before we followed him into the house, Kacper shot me a look. His sharp, pale face was barely visible in the darkness, but the glare in his fierce yellow eyes couldn’t have been clearer. Don’t mess this up for me, it hissed.

I tried to smile reassuringly at him, but in the limited light, my expression probably looked more like a grimace. In any case, I was here for research. I knew how important this moment was for Kacper and I had no intentions of ruining his special night.

We headed up the paved driveway, the hems of mine and Kacper’s cloaks billowing behind us. The home before us was a grand Colonial with golden lights leftover from the Christmas season strung along the façade. It was well after midnight, and all of the many windows were dark. The examiner hovered on the topmost step, half-turned toward us with his hand on the doorknob and impatience all over his doughy face. Kacper and I hurried after him and into the stranger’s house.

I immediately leapt back, heart thrashing against my ribs.

Someone was awake—a woman in a bathrobe was coming down the stairwell, straight at us. Kacper snatched up my arm as I stumbled backwards, his eyes blazing.

"Relax, he hissed. Remember who you are."

His thumb pressed into my arm, right in the center of the mark he’d drawn into my skin and then—I did remember. That I was an Oneiros now. That humans couldn’t see or hear me at night.

The moment I realized it, I caught the test giver’s eye. He gave me a look that was reproachful at best. Behind him, the robed woman lumbered sleepily into the next room, totally oblivious to the three strangers in her foyer.

I breathed out one short breath. Sorry.

And even then, as I said it, I cringed, my eyes squinting anxiously toward the kitchen, half-expecting the lady getting her midnight snack to spin on her toes and demand to know what the heck we were doing in her house.

But I hastened to wipe the fear off my face, feeling Mr. Jenkins’ judgmental stare on me.

After ensuring I knew the extent of his disapproval with a lengthy glare, the old man stepped aside and gestured up the staircase. His glittery eyes shifted to Kacper, and at once I understood what the look signified.

The test was starting now.

Assuming full charge of the situation, Kacper strode forward, chin held high, expression hard. I knew that look well. He wasn’t just putting on an air of bravado to impress the examiner. Kacper was always calm and fluid when hunting nightmares, and it never failed to amaze me. He was truly, genuinely, in his element now.

He went up the stairs first, then Mr. Jenkins swept up after him. I brought up the rear, tiptoeing my way up though I didn’t need to. No matter how many creaks in the floor my feet touched, nobody was going to hear me.

That felt very surreal to me right then. Yes, there was a constant tingle in my arm where my Somnus was, and yes, I could feel the heady warmth of the magic inside me. But it was still crazy to think that I was the same as the two Oneiroi with me. I liked it, but it intimidated me, too.

Especially when I caught the nasty looks Mr. Jenkins kept throwing me over his shoulder. Was he just a particularly grumpy old man or did he actually think I would try to help Kacper cheat?

Halfway up the stairs, a sudden change in the air stole my attention. Up until this point, the house had been toasty warm, a central-heated refuge from the February night.

But out of nowhere, mid-ascent, a chill crept down my spine. A draft of cold air brushed against my cheek, like someone had just opened a window next to my face. The change was so startling that I paused on the stairs, shivering inside my cloak.

I had thought, seeing Kacper totally unaffected by the chill brought on by Morae, that I would be immune to it as well, now that I had a half-moon tattoo and everything. But I was wrong. There was no magical way to avoid the cold—Kacper was just that good at ignoring it while he worked.

In fact, he didn’t seem to have noticed the chill at all. Without faltering a single step, he moved onward. Gene Jenkins climbed with the same mind-blowing calmness, though I noticed his fingers tug subtly on his coat, pulling it tighter around him. He felt the cold, too. Somehow, it seemed stronger than usual. Trying to pretend it wasn’t, I scrambled after the two of them.

The second floor landing was even colder. I clenched my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering and giving away my lack of professionalism. Fortunately, nobody seemed to notice me. Kacper was ambling down the hallway, and Mr. Jenkins trailed behind him, scribbling something down on his clipboard. Was he noting Kacper’s poise and confidence? I wondered briefly, following in the old man’s wake, if the test wasn’t simply about one’s performance, but about how they held themselves as well.

If that were the case, then giving up on ever being certified as an Oneiros would probably be the best plan for me. I sucked at the whole fake-it-till-you-make-it stuff. If this were my exam, I would’ve failed long ago—probably even before we entered the house.

But I liked being here. The cold and fear were strong, but not as strong as my sense of belonging. Doing what Oneiroi do, learning their ways—it was my greatest pleasure. Even then, when my legs felt like icicles and the growing dread inside me made me want to turn on my heel and run.

Kacper stopped in front of a closed door. Even without the puffs of jade smoke seeping out through the crack in the door, it was obvious this was our destination. It was the coldest spot, and also the point where my innate panic signals fired off.

Just before Kacper opened the door, I remembered the words that had become my own personal mantra over the last two months.

It isn’t fearlessness that makes a good Oneiros, but a heart for protecting humankind, a passion for rescuing people.

Holding my grandmother’s wise words close to heart, I stepped right behind Mr. Jenkins, then followed him and Kacper into the room. My hand wrapped around the knob as I pulled the door shut, cutting us off from the outside world.

Then, it was just me, Kacper, an old man, and the nightmare.

Correction: two nightmares.

And a sleeping teenager.

I turned to face them head on.

The teen was a guy who looked to be my age, maybe a year or two younger. It was hard to be sure with the eerie light surrounding him and making shadows play across his face.

The Morae perched on his ankles, side-by-side. They looked innocent at the moment—twin girls no older than six, with matching brown hair and matching purple dresses. But I knew better than to believe the disguise. And sure enough, the longer I watched them, the more their masks slipped away. Their small, petite frames flickered, then gave way to the beastly, deformed bodies of trolls. Their dainty hands turned rotten and grew pincers. They were monsters.

And there were two of them, which meant that they weren’t the only bad creatures in the room. I knew from firsthand, horrible experience that multiple Morae only clustered around one person when that person had done something really, really bad.

So the teenage guy was just as dangerous.

You have five minutes to complete this task, said Mr. Jenkins, moving to stand in a safe corner of the room.

My jaw almost dropped. Five minutes? So speed was just as important as skill in the exam, apparently. Yep, I was definitely not qualified.

Kacper didn’t seem affected by this at all. He gave a short nod, then reached into his cloak. I heard the sound of glass orbs jostling against each other, high and clear.

That was one of several things that had changed about me since becoming an Oneiros. My senses had sharpened, especially my sense of hearing. So instead of white noise or silence filling up my ears, I picked up on every tiny sound in the room.

The quick, shallow breaths of the sleeping boy. The mattress beneath him groaning as he tossed and turned. The low hum coming from the nightmares—a drone barely audible but dripping with wickedness.

And finally, the light swish sound of Kacper’s arm cutting the air as he reared his hand back.

The tisane went flying, a dazzling orb of blue liquid and glittering glass. It slammed straight into the first nightmare’s head, a product of Kacper’s flawless aim. The ball shattered, and milk infused with a multitude of herbs gushed out all over the creature.

I stared, waiting for the burning and fizzing and hissing that always happened at this point. My brain was trained to expect the nightmare’s death as soon as the glass broke.

So when that didn’t happen, I was floored.

Shocked, I gazed wide-eyed at the Mora on the bed. There wasn’t even a single fleck of glass in the creature’s hair! What was going on? Over the past two months, I’d witnessed hundreds of nightmare killings. None of them had just not died when whacked with a tisane.

Anxiety rumbled through my stomach. I cast a look at Kacper.

He stood frozen, his back pressed against the wall behind him. Though his face held no emotion, I could see the disbelief flashing like lightning across the field of his gold eyes. He was just as stunned as I was.

But then, I watched him remember where he was, what he was doing. His shoulders relaxed, as did the muscles in his face. Back into his cloak went his hand, out came another bauble. This time Kacper launched it at the second nightmare. And again, it crashed dead-center in the Mora’s back. A blow that should’ve been fatal.

Nothing happened.

Well...something did happen, but it wasn’t the desired result.

Without dying, or even seeming the slightest bit affected, both nightmares turned. Their big eyes weren’t the innocent eyes of little girls, but the blood-red eyes of demons. They stared at Kacper, hard and long as if his attack had merely annoyed them. In the distance, I was aware of Mr. Jenkins’ pencil scratching at his clipboard as the man muttered to himself, Faulty tisanes...probably shoddily made...

No! I wanted to shout. They were not shoddily made! This issue had nothing to do with the tisanes at all—something weird was going on with the nightmares themselves.

I switched my panicked gaze back to Kacper’s face, and this time, our eyes met. What I saw in his bright ocher orbs chilled me. Kacper, who was calm in the face of all evils, looked scared.

Things were bad. Very bad.

And quickly getting worse.

A sudden movement in my periphery. Something like a giant black shape rising off the bed. I startled, jumping a few steps back as I turned to look.

The Morae. They had abandoned the sleeping guy. Now, they levitated toward the ceiling. Levitated.

It was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Normally, nightmares didn’t move—they anchored themselves to their victim and instead manipulated spiders or other creepy insects as a way to thwart us. They were never so...aggressive.

I became paralyzed with fright, watching the two monsters float high, in perfect sync with each other. Their dresses billowed out around them like curtains rustling in the wind. Horrifying though it was, something was graceful about the way they moved. Almost as if they weren’t just attacking—they were making a show out of it. The room was painfully silent. All three of us had grown stock-still—even Mr. Jenkins’ scribbling had stopped.

And then it happened.

Both nightmares twirled in the air, facing Kacper now. My scalp tingled in terror. Their red eyes were alight, not with the soulless, mechanical intent of destruction, like the majority of their kind. No—these eyes glinted, as if with life. Intelligence.

The two of them raised their arms, outstretching them toward Kacper. I couldn’t tear my gaze off them, but in the corner of my eye I sensed Kacper flinch. In a moment of heart-pounding, electric horror, the Morae smiled—actually smiled—and then they soared directly at Kacper.

That broke the silence instantly. Mr. Jenkins cried out, then scurried to the opposite side of the room where he crouched low on the floor next to a nightstand. Kacper let fly a string of obscenities, then tried to jump out of the way, but the nightmares were fast. One of them got their hands around his neck, pinning him to the wall. The tips of its claws dug into Kacper’s skin, squeezing mercilessly. A horrible choking sound sputtered from his throat, and it was that, that set me in motion.

I was used to drawing on my magic now. It didn’t take nearly as much concentration as it had the very first time I tried to save Kacper’s life.

I lunged forward, already channeling the energy inside me, willing it to gather in my palm. I felt the magic tingling beneath the surface of my skin, straining at the leash to burst forth. Then, hand held out in front of me, I sent a ball of blue fire surging toward the nightmare holding Kacper. The flare smacked straight into the side of her head, and her hands released my companion.

He started to crumple, but then the other Mora, the one who’d been standing by like a sidekick while her partner tried to choke Kacper, suddenly flung out a hand. Tendrils of green mist poured from her fingers, then twisted and bent around Kacper, holding him in place. Sparks of sapphire shot out from his fingers, then fizzled out. He was bound by the green smoke, defenseless.

Trying to focus on my magic to keep from panicking, I started to send another flare at Kacper’s attacker, but my aim was cut off as something big and hissing sprung forward. The first Mora, pouncing on me. I was stunned when the thing that collided with me was solid, yet soft, like a human body. So stunned that I lost my grip on my magic. The power died off before ever leaving my hand.

And then I was on the floor, and my head was stinging. I’d knocked it on something on the way down. But there was no room for pain—there was a nightmare on my chest.

She straddled me, not smoke and air, but a completely substantial monster of at least eighty pounds. Just like she did to Kacper, her hands went around my neck. Tight. I gasped for air, my fingers clawing at hers, trying to pry them off. But what was even more terrifying than my air supply being choked off, was the face of evil staring down at me. Maniacal eyes, devil smile. A demon, in every sense of the word. But something was disturbingly human about it.

Unable to move, I retreated into my head, the one place where I was free. Refusing to think about how silent Kacper was being or how painful the nightmare’s grip was, I centered all my concentration on defending myself. I pictured strong magic, loads of unlimited power, surrounding me, freeing me.   Magic bubbled at the edge of my imagination—I leaned into it as best as I could, though it was getting harder with every passing second. I couldn’t breathe at all now, and my eyelids were growing heavy. She was trying to make me sleep, her claws stabbing me toward unconsciousness.

No. Anger overrode fear. I’d been an Oneiros for barely two months. There was no way I was going to let some stupid nightmare take that away from me. And I didn’t much appreciate my Keeper dying either.

I stared into her face, matching her death glare with one of my own. That familiar hum of energy clustered behind my eyes, keeping them wide open.

Die, I thought fiercely. I centered all my magic into the word, spelling out the letters in my head with swirls of blue. A vivid image flashed into my brain, a picture of this horrible creature meeting a horrible demise, and taking her sidekick down with her. A warm rush went through me, making me shudder on the carpet. I could feel every inch of me buzzing, tingling, throbbing with an overflow of magic as I focused all of my will into that image.

Suddenly, panic flared across the Mora’s face. Her wild red eyes dimmed, her smile dropped. She gazed in horror, not at my face, but in the region of my chest. Startled, I looked down and saw it.

A sphere of blue light had erupted from my chest, and it hovered there, just above my heart, circling like a whirlpool. I was just as shocked to see it as the monster holding me down, but before I could marvel at the sensation, the radiance rushed at the creature, then crashed over her and swept her into its spirals like a huge wave. A scream that sounded way too human for comfort spilled out from the demon’s lips, then it was swallowed up by the ocean-like vortex and there no more.

I scrambled to my feet, wasting no more time.

The other Mora was gaping at me in horror, but her hand still emitted green mist, and Kacper was still trapped. It happened in a second—I sent the azure ball hurtling at her. It devoured her like wildfire, and a breath later, the creature was gone.

Instantly, the green in the room winked out, as did the power I’d conjured, and thick tangible darkness enveloped us.

Kacper doubled over, gasping, clutching at his middle where the smoke ropes had clenched the tightest. I hurried toward him, demanding to know if he was alright.

Fine—I’m fine—thank you—

Relief and exhaustion washed over me at the same time. I felt drained, and wobbly on my feet. I started to sway, but then Kacper reached out and latched onto my waist. Despite his encounter with the Morae, there was unbelievable strength in his fingers. He steadied me, then guided me towards the bed where I collapsed, limp and shaky.

Drink this. He shoved a bottle in my hands. "You used way too much magic, Alex."

My hands fumbled with the lid. I flicked it off, then leaned my head back, draining the liquid in two swallows. The serum tasted like chocolate milk, but with a warm burn in the back of my throat from the chloral hydrate. I felt it immediately hit my bloodstream, then my jitters ceased and the dizziness in my head disappeared.

Mr. Jenkins—are you okay?

At Kacper’s question, I turned my head. I had almost forgotten about the old man. He was still curled up on the floor in the same position, hugging his knees, whole body vibrating. His eyes looked like they were about to explode from their sockets. Kacper quickly gave him some chloral hydrate, too.

Once the color had returned to the old man’s face, he stood up shakily. By Hypnos! he gasped. Never in all my years...

He didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t have to. We understood. Those Morae had baffled all three of us.

Matilda had mentioned how some nightmares were more powerful than others. They were rare, coherent creatures. Yet I’d never imagined them to be like that, unaffected by tisanes and sneering and only destroyable by wild amounts of magic. Something about it didn’t seem right to me.

Let me just take care of him so we can get out of here, said Kacper, moving toward the bed. I leaned out of the way, cautiously getting to my feet as Kacper tended to the sleeping boy.

He climbed atop his chest and then pressed his thumbs into the teenager’s temples, establishing a connection with his mind. All was still for a while—Kacper, me, Mr. Jenkins, the room itself.

And then I noticed, as I stood leaning against the doorframe with a perfect view of Kacper’s face, that he’d started frowning. His eyebrows drew together, creating wrinkles in his smooth pale skin. Whatever he was seeing in the boy’s head had given him pause.

What’s wrong? I asked.

Across the room, Mr. Jenkins surged forward. He darted to my side to get a good look for himself.

Kacper murmured quietly, I was sure...since there were two...that this kid had committed a crime or something. Some evil he’d gotten away with.

I nodded wordlessly. I had assumed the same.

But? That isn’t the case? Mr. Jenkins prompted.

Kacper shook his head. No. He’s actually a really good son. Nice to his older sister, too. He hasn’t done anything bad at all.

And yet...the Morae... I frowned.

None of us said anything more after that. We all sank into a quiet that probably seemed peaceful from the outside, but was chaotic within each of our minds.

The dream world was always so straightforward, easy to understand. Nightmares were shadowy, evil beings that died immediately upon being hit with a tisane. There was no maybe or sometimes about it. It was the unchangeable system all nightmares, Oneiroi, and sleepers operated under.

So why had tonight been so vastly, terrifyingly different?

After a while, Kacper got to his feet again. Now, having been the object of Kacper’s magical ministrations, the youth in bed was tranquil and blank-faced. He slept, his dreamscape sweet and pleasant.

Done? Mr. Jenkins urged, his body making sharp, jerky advances toward the door.

Guess so... Kacper turned around one last time before we left, his gaze sweeping over the room. The gold of his eyes was like a laser piercing the darkness and penetrating the shadows. He seemed strangely reluctant to leave, as if the answers to the night’s weirdness were hidden somewhere in the room.

I touched his arm gently, and fixed him with a meaningful stare once his eyes found my face. Let’s just forget about it. Tonight’s your special night.

With the slightest of nods, he finally turned his back on the room behind us, choosing to forget for the time being.

Mr. Jenkins pushed open the door, impatient, eager to be the first one out. Kacper and I shared one last look, then stepped out into the hall to follow him.

Chapter 2

S o—what’s my score ? Did I pass? Kacper asked.

We both centered wide, expectant gazes on the old man before us.

In the cool, wide open road with the streetlamps glowing on every corner and his personal vehicle waiting a few feet away, Mr. Jenkins seemed to have transformed back to his old, stuffy, irritable self. Eyebrows raised and lips pursed, he was the poster child for pomposity.

Well, he began, drawing out the word as he consulted his clipboard. "You have managed a pass—"

I clapped my hands together, beaming up at Kacper. His face brightened, his shoulders sagged with relief.

Mr. Jenkins scowled as if perturbed by our cheerfulness. "—but, just barely. Then, he flipped the clipboard around to show us the sheet of paper and the bright red grade at the top of it. Sixty-five percent."

"Sixty-five?" Kacper and I gasped with simultaneous cries of outrage.

Yes. Sixty-five.

"But—why?" Kacper leaned forward to see the specifics of his score sheet, but the examiner snatched it away before his eyes could even focus. I knew he was probably thinking the same thing I was—how could he, with his calm disposition and magic skills, have just barely scraped a pass?

The little gold eyes of Mr. Jenkins cut to me, his glare like a blade with a scarily sharp edge. "She, he said, the word packed full of venom, was the one who destroyed the Morae. Obviously. You— his eyes flitted to Kacper’s crestfallen face— were actually quite useless the entire time. I have given you a generous score of sixty-five, simply because you did display confidence and self-composition that is hard to find amongst young Oneiroi these days, and of course, you succeeded in putting the sleeper to rest with good dreams. However, in the future, I would highly recommend checking your tisanes to see that they are not faulty—and leave this girl at home!"

I frowned. What a way to talk about someone who just saved your life.

But my indignation on Kacper’s behalf was too great to worry about how Mr. Jenkins treated me. I stepped forward, ignoring the way the old man flinched and leapt back the closer I got, as if I were about to attack him.

Listen, I said, struggling to keep my voice calm. Mr. Jenkins—sir—those Morae were actively trying to hurt us. They would’ve destroyed us all had I not done something! I really don’t think it’s fair for you to punish my friend for something I did—and only to protect him!

The look on the man’s face had left frustration and gone into the realm of fear. What was his problem? He looked like I’d just stabbed him in the chest!

The score is final! he spat, then hastily looked away, his frightful eyes landing on Kacper and turning to narrowed slits. Just be glad I passed you at all!

He cast me one last glance, the glance of a frightened cat, and then swiveled around and set off toward his car, his steps so rapid he was practically jogging. I stared after him in angered awe, watching him fling himself into his vehicle, then peel out of the neighborhood and disappear from sight altogether.

Once the night grew quiet again, and the echo of Mr. Jenkins’ tires screeching against the asphalt had faded completely, I turned to Kacper.

"I am so sorry, Kacper..." I reached out to him, then thought better of it and let my hand fall back to my side. He looked so angry. I steeled myself for the impact of his wrath, knowing it was just moments away from exploding.

Finally, after staring furiously at the ground for so many tense seconds, his glare switched to my face. "This is an outrage! he said, his voice low, dangerous, verging on a growl. That awful man better hope I don’t report his behavior to the Council—they would strip away his certification in a second!"

At first, I merely blinked at him in confusion. Judging by his words, it didn’t seem like he was mad at me. But he should’ve been...I was the one who ruined his chances of getting a perfect score.

It’s not like he’s wrong, I said, lowering my head. "I mean, I did sort of take over your test. I’m sorry, Kacper, I didn’t think—I just...that nightmare, she was going to make you sleep and I couldn’t—"

Still fuming, Kacper interrupted me, demanding, "You think that’s why that old geezer gave me a sixty-five? No. Definitely not, Alex."

But...that’s what he said...?

Oh, sure! Now Kacper threw his head back in a scornful laugh, the gold in his eyes flashing like sparks of fire. To save face, of course—that’s why he said that. It’s a horribly pathetic excuse—any normal, rational person would’ve been able to see that I was physically incapable of fighting off those Morae.

I took a tentative step forward, a little bit less afraid to approach him now. You’re not making any sense, I said. Why else would he have scored you so low?

Instead of answering, he swept away from me. His cloak fluttered behind him as he hurried off down the street, back to Matilda’s house. I tried to match his pace, but the faster I walked, the more my chest and muscles ached, reminding me of the