Kaida
I didn’t mean to fall asleep.
One moment the lamp was swaying and Maggie was humming against my shoulder, and the next I was somewhere grey and formless and not quite anywhere — the in-between place that preceded the dream, the place I usually passed through without stopping.
This time I stopped.
I had never stopped here before. I had always been pulled through it, toward whatever the dream wanted to show me. But the wine had softened something, loosened the tight anxious grip I usually kept on everything, and I thought — what if I didn’t go where the dream pulled me? What if I chose?
I thought of Jace.
The grey shifted. Something tugged, directional, north and behind us, and I felt the shape of him out there somewhere on the dark road — warm and real and moving, his particular
