Chapter 8: The Neighbor's Ward
The card was still warm in Katrina's hand when the screen door creaked open behind her. She didn't turn around. She didn't need to. The particular rhythm of Beth's footsteps—light, quick, a dancer's grace that never quite translated to anything else—was unmistakable.
"Less than a day in Miami and you've already got a date." Beth leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, that smirk of hers cutting across her face like a knife. "That's got to be a record, even for you."
Katrina shoved the card into the pocket of her borrowed shorts. Her cheeks burned. "It's not a date."
"Uh-huh." Beth's smirk widened. "And I'm the Queen of England."
Felicity appeared beside her, blue eyes thoughtful, a strand of blonde hair escaping from behind her ear. She wasn't looking at Katrina. She was looking at the porch itself—at the faintly glowing symbols etched into the weathered wood, the ones Calista had spent an hour tracing with fire-tipped fingers that morning.
"He walked right past the wards," Felicity said.
Katrina's stomach tightened. "What?"
"The wards." Felicity pointed at the nearest sigil, a spiraling glyph that pulsed with a soft, ember-colored light. "They're keyed to hostile intent. If he meant you harm, they would have flared. Burned him. Maybe worse." She paused, tilting her head. "He's clean."
Beth's smirk faded into something more serious. She pushed off from the doorframe, her bare feet silent on the teakwood planks. "Still. We don't know him. Be careful."
"I'm always careful."
"No, you're not." Beth's voice was gentle, but firm. "You spent thirty years in a void, Katrina. You're hungry for connection. For touch. For anything that feels real. That makes you vulnerable."
The words landed like stones in still water. Katrina wanted to argue, wanted to insist that she was fine, that she knew exactly what she was doing. But Beth was right. She could feel it—the way her pulse had quickened at Mark's smile, the way her skin still tingled where his fingers had brushed hers.
"I'll be careful," she said. "I promise."
Beth held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded. "Good. Because if he hurts you, I'll have to kill him. And I really don't want to deal with the paperwork."
Katrina laughed despite herself. The sound surprised her—bright and genuine, cutting through the tension like sunlight through clouds. Beth grinned, and Felicity rolled her eyes, and for a moment, everything felt normal. Safe. Like they were just three friends standing on a porch in Miami, watching the sun climb higher over the ocean.
Then the rumble of an engine broke the spell.
Ben's truck came first—a battered silver pickup that had seen better decades, its bed loaded with lumber and bags of concrete. Bruce's delivery van followed close behind, the words MYSTIC GEAR & GADGETRY emblazoned on the side in bold red letters that somehow managed to look both professional and slightly absurd.
The truck doors opened. Ben climbed out first, his dirty blonde hair dark with sweat, his t-shirt clinging to the broad planes of his chest. He was built like a man who spent more time in the gym than the library, and the effect was... distracting. Katrina caught herself staring and looked away.
Bruce emerged from the van a moment later, his Scottish accent carrying across the driveway as he called out something to Ben about a load-bearing wall. He was brawnier than Ben, with perpetual stubble and a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. His steampunk wrench—a contraption of brass and copper and faintly glowing gears—hung from his belt like a gunslinger's holster.
Felicity's entire body changed when she saw him.
It was subtle—a shift in posture, a quickening of breath—but Katrina noticed. She noticed the way Felicity's eyes lit up, the way her hands trembled slightly at her sides, the way her cheeks flushed a deep, unmistakable pink.
She grabbed Bruce's hand before he could even say hello, tugging him toward the stairs.
"I need you," she whispered. Her voice was low, urgent, pitched for his ears only. But Katrina heard it anyway. "Now."
Bruce raised an eyebrow but followed without a word. Felicity called over her shoulder, "Don't wait up!" and then they were gone, disappearing into the house, their footsteps thundering up the stairs.
Beth watched them go, then turned back to Katrina with a knowing grin. "And you thought you were the only one with a date."
"That's not—" Katrina started, but Beth was already laughing, already shaking her head.
"Relax. I'm happy for her. Bruce is good for her." She paused, her grin turning thoughtful. "Also, he's got arms like tree trunks, and I'm pretty sure Felicity's been fantasizing about those arms since the day they met."
"Beth."
"What? I'm just saying." Beth shrugged. "She's my friend. I notice things."
Ben appeared at the bottom of the stairs, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He looked tired but satisfied, the kind of tired that came from honest work and the satisfaction of a job well done.
"Where's Mandy?" he asked, glancing around.
"Gone." Katrina's voice came out flatter than she intended. "She and Calista and Mai went with Kim and Maryam. LeFaye was here. In my dreams. They went to track him."
Ben's expression hardened. The easygoing jock vanished, replaced by something sharper, more dangerous. "What do you mean, he was here?"
Katrina told him. The words came out in a rush—the dream, the women, the pleasure that had felt so real, the cold laughter that had shattered it all. By the time she finished, Ben's jaw was tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered.
"Yeah."
"I should go. I should—" He reached for his keys.
"No." Katrina stepped forward, her hand landing on his arm. "Kim knows what she's doing. Mandy knows what she's doing. If you go charging after them, you'll just get in the way."
Ben's eyes flashed. "I'm not—"
"You're a protector." Katrina's voice was soft. "I see it in you. The way you stand, the way you move. You want to shield everyone you love from the darkness. But some darkness can't be shielded. Some darkness has to be hunted."
Ben stared at her. The tension in his shoulders slowly eased.
"You're right," he said finally. "I hate it, but you're right."
"I usually am."
That got a laugh out of him. A small one, barely more than a breath, but it was real. He shook his head, running a hand through his sweaty hair.
"How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Make people feel better. Even when everything's falling apart."
Katrina considered the question. "I spent thirty years alone with nothing but my own thoughts. You learn things. About people. About yourself. About what matters and what doesn't."
Ben nodded slowly. "I guess you do."
Inside, the sound of a door closing. Footsteps on the stairs. Felicity's laugh—high and bright, followed by Bruce's low rumble.
"I should go check on them," Beth said. "Make sure they don't break anything."
"Anything specific?"
"The bed frame. It's older than Calista." Beth was already moving toward the door. "And the desk. And possibly the window."
She disappeared inside, leaving Katrina alone with Ben on the porch.
The silence that followed was comfortable. Not the charged, electric silence of Mark's presence, but something easier. Companionable. Two people who had shared something difficult and come out the other side.
"You know," Ben said after a moment, "if you want, I could stay. Just in case. Kim and Maryam are out there doing their thing, Mandy's with them, and the house is empty. If LeFaye shows up again..."
"I have Jeeves." Katrina gestured toward the little automaton, which had floated into the doorway behind them, its sensors glowing a soft, steady blue. "And the wards. And a promise from a Green Moon initiate that she'll know if he tries anything."
"Yeah, but still." Ben shifted his weight. "I don't like leaving you alone."
"I'm not alone." Katrina smiled. "I have the sexiest robot butler in Miami."
Jeeves whirred softly. "I am programmed to provide both security and domestic assistance, Mistress Katrina. My aesthetic appeal is a secondary function."
Ben stared at it.
"He means thank you," Katrina said.
"I am also programmed to interpret social cues," Jeeves added. "That was a joke. I was not aware I could make jokes. Interesting."
Ben's lips twitched. "You sure he's not sentient?"
"Felicity insists he isn't. But sometimes I wonder."
The little automaton's sensors flickered. If it could have looked smug, it would have.
Jeeves floated back toward the kitchen, its mechanical arms folding against its spherical body with a series of soft clicks. Ben watched it go, then turned back to Katrina with an expression that hovered somewhere between amusement and concern.
"Felicity really built that thing?"
"Bruce built it. For her." Katrina leaned against the porch railing, the wood warm against her palms. "He made it to protect her. Keep her safe when he can't be there."
Ben nodded slowly. His gaze drifted past her, down the street, toward the empty driveway where Mandy's van had been parked less than an hour ago.
"That's what I'm supposed to do," he said. "Keep her safe. But she's out there, chasing a dreamwalker, and I'm standing on a porch drinking nothing and feeling useless."
"You're not useless."
"I know what Kim and Maryam can do. I've seen them train." Ben's jaw tightened. "And Calista—she's got fire magic, actual fucking fire. Mai's been hunting monsters since before I met her. Even Mandy's got that taser she built herself, the one that can stop a charging bull."
"And you have what?"
"A truck and a bad attitude."
Katrina reached out and touched his arm again. The gesture was gentle, deliberate. She wasn't flirting. She wasn't trying to distract him. She was just... there.
"You have loyalty," she said. "You have the kind of heart that makes people want to stand beside you. That's worth more than fire magic."
Ben snorted. "Tell that to the dreamwalker."
"I would. If I ever get the chance." Katrina's voice dropped, something hard creeping into the softness. "He was in my head, Ben. He made me feel things—want things—and it was all a lie."
"Was it?" Ben's eyes met hers. "You don't have to answer that. I'm just—"
"No. It's a fair question." Katrina swallowed. "The dream. The women. The pleasure. It felt real. More real than anything I've felt in thirty years. And that's what scares me. Not that he invaded my mind. That he made me want it."
Ben was quiet for a long moment. Then he shifted, settling onto the porch step, his back against the railing. He looked up at her, and his expression was softer now. Less like a protector and more like a friend.
"Sit down," he said.
Katrina sat.
"I don't know a lot about dreams," Ben said. "I'm an engineering student. I deal with real things—metal, wires, gears. But I know about wanting things you shouldn't. Things that feel good in the moment but leave you hollow after."
"You do?"
"Everyone does." He shrugged. "I've had a girlfriend before Mandy. Two, actually. One of them was bad for me. Manipulative. She'd say things that made me feel like I was the one who mattered, and then she'd use me. It took me a year to figure out I was just a tool."
Katrina nodded slowly. "And Mandy?"
"Mandy's different." Ben's voice changed when he said her name—warmed, softened. "She's awkward and nerdy and sometimes she talks so fast I can't keep up. But she doesn't want me for anything except me. And when she looks at me, I feel like I'm the only person in the world."
"That's love."
"Yeah." Ben smiled, small and real. "I think it is."
The silence that followed was comfortable. Katrina let it stretch, let the salt air fill her lungs, let the distant crash of waves steady her heartbeat. For the first time since waking from the dream, she felt like she could breathe.
"I should stay," Ben said finally.
"You don't have to."
"I know. But I want to." He met her eyes. "Mandy would want me to. She'd want someone here, watching the house, making sure you're safe. Kim's got her back out there. I can have yours here."
Katrina felt something shift in her chest. Not desire—not the sharp, urgent warmth that Mark had sparked. Something quieter. Something that felt like gratitude.
"Okay," she said.
"Okay."
Ben pulled out his phone, typed a quick message to Mandy—I'm staying at Judy's. Keep an eye on the house. Call me when you're done—and then pocketed it. He stood, stretched, and headed inside to grab a chair from the kitchen.
Katrina stayed on the porch a moment longer, watching the empty street. The card in her pocket seemed to burn against her thigh. Mark's number. Mark's smile. Mark's fingers brushing hers.
She closed her eyes and pushed the thought away.
Across the city, near the docks, Kim pulled her motorcycle to a stop in front of a warehouse that had seen better decades. The building sagged, rust creeping up its corrugated walls like a disease. The windows were boarded over, and the door—a massive slab of steel—hung slightly ajar.
Maryam's bike rumbled up beside her, engine cutting with a final growl. Behind them, Mandy's van rolled to a stop, gravel crunching under its tires.
Kim dismounted, her helmet tucked under one arm. Her hazel eyes glowed faintly green, tracking the residue of LeFaye's passage through the air like a hound following a scent.
"He's inside," she said.
"How do you know?" Maryam asked, hefting her bat from the van.
"I can taste it." Kim's nose wrinkled. "Dreamwalkers leave a trail like burnt sugar and ozone. It's faint, but it's there."
Mandy emerged from the van, followed by Calista and Mai. Calista's hands were already wreathed in flickering orange flames, her silver hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, her golden eyes narrowed with determination. Mai reached down and pulled a knife from her boot—a wicked-looking blade with a serrated edge that caught the morning light.
"Everyone ready?" Kim asked.
The others nodded.
Kim pushed the door open.
The warehouse was dark, dusty, the kind of place where rats held conventions and bad decisions came to die. Empty crates lined the walls. A broken forklift sat in the corner like a dead animal. The air smelled of rust and salt and something older, something that made the hairs on the back of Mandy's neck stand up.
Then reality shifted.
It happened in a heartbeat—a lurch in the world like a film reel skipping frames. The dark warehouse vanished, replaced by a forest. Not just any forest. A storybook forest, with trees that twisted into spiraling patterns, leaves that shimmered in shades of emerald and gold, and flowers that sang when the wind passed through them.
The sky above was a deep, impossible purple, dotted with stars that were too close and too bright. A path wound through the trees, lined with glowing mushrooms that pulsed in time with some unseen heartbeat.
Kim, Maryam, and Mai still held their weapons. But their clothes had changed.
Kim wore leather armor, dark green, fitted to her body like a second skin. Her curved sword gleamed at her hip, its blade etched with symbols that glowed faintly in the strange light. Maryam wore something similar, though bulkier, with a cape that billowed behind her despite the absence of wind.
Mai's outfit was a hunter's leathers, all straps and buckles and pockets, perfect for a woman who had spent her life chasing monsters. Her knife was still in her hand, but now it looked less like a boot knife and more like a weapon forged for killing things that shouldn't exist.
Calista's dress was a flowing gown of red and gold, cut low, with sleeves that trailed almost to the ground. Her fire magic flickered at her fingertips, but the flames were brighter now, more vibrant, as if the fantasy world was feeding them.
And Mandy—
Mandy looked down at herself.
She was wearing a dress. Not just any dress. A princess dress. Pale blue silk, with a corset that squeezed her ribs and a skirt that billowed out around her like she was about to attend a ball. Her hair had been released from its usual messy ponytail and now cascaded down her back in perfect, impossible waves.
"What the fuck," she said.
Mai burst out laughing.
"Shut up." Mandy tried to cross her arms, but the corset made it difficult. "I look like I'm about to be kidnapped by a dragon."
"A damsel in distress," Kim said, and there was a note of amusement in her voice despite the tension. "That's... specific."
"Why am I the damsel? Why not you?"
"Because I'm the knight." Kim gestured to her armor. "Obviously."
Mai stepped forward and pinched Mandy's arm.
"Ow!" Mandy swatted her hand away. "What the hell?"
"Just checking." Mai grinned. "You felt that. We're still awake."
"Waking dream," Kim said. "Some dreamwalkers can pull it off. They don't need you to be asleep—they just need you to be close enough. Close to a place where the boundaries are thin."
"The warehouse?"
"Maybe. Or maybe it's us." Kim's eyes swept the forest. "LeFaye wanted us here. He brought us into his world. Which means he's controlling the rules."
"Then how do we beat him?" Maryam asked.
"We find the anchor." Kim started down the path, boots crunching on fallen leaves. "Every dream has an anchor—something that keeps it stable. If we can find it and destroy it, the dream collapses. LeFaye loses his power."
Mandy stumbled after her, the corset making every step a battle. "And how do we find it?"
"We look."
The underbrush rustled.
Everyone froze.
A dragon burst from the trees.
It was magnificent, terrible, a creature of green scales and golden eyes and wings that spanned thirty feet. Fire licked from its nostrils. Its roar shook the ground, sending the singing flowers into a discordant shriek.
Mai's face lit up.
"Oh, fuck yes."
She was moving before anyone could stop her. She sprinted toward the dragon, knife still in hand, and leaped. Her body twisted in midair, gaining height and momentum, and then she was on the creature's back, her legs clamped around its neck, her knife pressed against its throat.
The dragon thrashed. Mai held on.
"Easy," she murmured, her voice somehow audible over the roaring. "Easy, big girl. I'm not going to hurt you."
The dragon went still.
Mai sat up, straddling the beast's neck, and grinned down at the others. "She's mine now."
Kim stared. "You just—"
"I tamed a dragon." Mai's grin widened. "I've been wanting to do that since I was six years old. Best dream ever."
The dragon made a sound that might have been a purr.
Mai patted its neck. "Good girl."
She slid off the dragon's back, landing lightly on the forest floor. The creature followed her like a puppy, its massive head nuzzling against her shoulder.
"I like this dream," Mai said. "I thought LeFaye did more erotic stuff, though. Given what he was doing to Katrina."
"Maybe that comes later." Kim's hand tightened on her sword. "We need to keep moving."
The bushes parted.
A group of elves emerged.
They were naked. Unmistakably, achingly naked. Male and female, young and beautiful, their bodies gleaming like polished marble. Some were aroused—visibly, obviously, cocks standing at attention, nipples peaked and flushed.
Mandy's breath caught.
Not because of the nudity. Because of the faces.
She knew them.
The elf stepping forward had Rick's easy smile and Stacy's sharp eyes. Beside him, an elf version of Felicity, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, one hand resting on the elf-Bruce's chest. Elf-Ben stood at the back, his expression uncertain, his muscles flexing awkwardly.
Elf-Jess. Elf-Marty. Elf-Beth.
Even elf-versions of her parents—Mike and Casey—stood at the rear of the group. They were younger than Mandy had ever seen them, their bodies lean and smooth, their expressions hungry.
And behind them all, standing like a queen surveying her court, was Aemelia.
Not the real Aemelia. A dream-Aemelia. But her silver hair was just as luminous, her eyes just as piercing, her body just as perfect. She was naked like the others, her pale skin flushed with want, her nipples hard, her thighs slick with arousal.
"Please," she said. Her voice was silk and honey and desperate need. "Make use of us for saving us from the dragon."
Mai tilted her head.
"Make use of you," she repeated.
"However you wish." Dream-Aemelia spread her arms, displaying herself fully. "We are yours. Every one of us. For whatever pleasure you desire."
Maryam stared at the naked horde. Her grip on her bat tightened. "How are we supposed to get past them?"
"Through them," Kim said quietly. "Or—"
Mai was already undressing.
She tossed her leather jacket aside, then her shirt, revealing a simple black bra and the tattooed scales that ran along her ribs. Her boots came off next, kicked toward a nearby mushroom.
"This is also my department," she said. "As the resident hedonist."
"Mai," Mandy started.
"I'll keep them busy." Mai shimmied out of her pants, leaving her in nothing but dark lingerie that left exactly zero to the imagination. "These dream elves think they're here to seduce us. They don't know who they're dealing with."
She sauntered toward the group, her hips swaying, her body gleaming in the strange light. The elf-versions of their friends watched her approach with hungry eyes, their hands reaching for her, their mouths parting.
Mai let them touch.
She guided the elf-Felicity to her knees, her fingers tangling in blonde hair. She pulled elf-Bruce forward, wrapping his hand around her waist. She pressed her body against elf-Stacy, her lips brushing the curve of an elf's throat.
Within moments, the entire group was tangled around her. Hands slid over her skin. Mouths found her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. She moaned, loud and theatrical, as elf-Rick's fingers found her cunt through her underwear and pressed.
"Go," she gasped. "I've got this."
Kim grabbed Mandy's arm and pulled her forward, skirting the writhing mass of bodies. Maryam followed, her bat raised, her eyes carefully averted. Calista brought up the rear, her flames flickering bright, ready to strike if any of the dream elves tried to follow.
They didn't. They were too busy with Mai.
Behind them, the dragon stretched its wings and settled in the grass like a contented cat.
The path curved through the forest, leading deeper into the woods. The singing flowers grew louder, their voices merging into a chorus that seemed to hum with power.
"Where are we going?" Mandy whispered.
"The heart of the dream." Kim's eyes glowed brighter. "That's where the anchor will be. That's where LeFaye will be waiting."
"And then?"
Kim's smile was thin and dangerous. "And then we make him regret ever touching our family."
They walked deeper into the fantasy, leaving Mai and her dragon behind. The trees closed around them, their branches reaching like grasping hands. Somewhere ahead, something waited.
Something that was watching them.
Kim felt it. She said nothing. Her grip on her sword tightened, and she kept walking.