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When Drake got home from his hunt in the small hours before sunrise, Claire was asleep. He watched her from the bedroom doorway, his left hand braced above his head on the door frame, watching the small movements of her breathing. She lay so still. He opened his sight to her aura and saw it swirling vibrant colors around her, rainbow echoes of her dreams. She looked so peaceful, but he thought that might be only an illusion.
The vampire stretched out beside his ghoul mistress; no matter of breathing marred his stillness. His fingertips touched her temples, sliding aside silky hair, feeling a pulsebeat within. Eyes closed, room dark and still, no sound but Claire's breathing, Drake let her thoughts flow into his, a new discipline, one he had struggled with for the last year. Finding success at last in this room, these dreams...
She was in a vehicle, speeding down a road. She was not driving; a handsome man Drake did not recognize was at the wheel, though the dream-Claire seemed to know him. She had a hand on his arm, gently, as though guiding his steering, or maybe affectionately. She seemed nervous, on the edge of fear. Dream-Claire glanced over her shoulder, at another vehicle, one closely following the one she was in. Her grip on the driver's arm tightenend, and as if in response the car sped forward. The car behind them kept up, a low growling sound coming from it. The sound was animalistic, and when dream-Claire looked again, the pursuing vehicle had been transformed into a pursuing dark beast of some unspecific kind. The growling grew louder as the car Claire rode in sputtered, and the driver began to swerve to try to avoid the monster behind them. They rolled into a ditch and dream-Claire segued into a new dream, or later in the same one, opening her eyes again in a hospital setting, hooked up to machinery with a pretty nurse looking down at her. The nurse's eyes emptied as she looked at dream-Claire, and the hollowness behind them was so fearful Claire screamed; the eyeless nurse patted Claire's arm gently and pulled out a huge hypodermic filled with a red fluid, giving Claire a shot in the neck. It felt painful, but a warm, filling pain that turned into a wave of pleasure that filled her whole body. The beast that had been pursuing the car came into the room, but dream-Claire felt no fear, she was full of an imposed-feeling calm, as it came over to her bedside, and bit her head off
Drake separated himself from the dream, barely stifling a scream himself. He waited a bit, lying on his back with his hands folded on his chest, head turned at an angle that would have been very uncomfortable for a human so that he could watch Claire's deceptively calm sleep and her swirling aura. When he'd gathered his scattered focus, he leaned up on one elbow again, his other hand stroking gently across her forehead, and returned to her dreams.
She was standing in their kitchen, with Drake kneeling before her. He saw himself looking down, saw his features transfigured in Claire's vision, yet still recognizably him; the dream-Drake was handsomer, with idealized features, yet his statement was monstrous, there was a darkness around him that Drake felt completely out of sync with his own self-perception. Dream-Claire opened a drawer in the kitchen, pulled out a knife. The dream-vampire kneeling there looked up, an unspeakable statement on his face, dark desire so pulling it made the conscious viewing Drake ashamed. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of dream-Drake's lips. She held the knife out to him, handle first, and he took it. The two of them in the dream then spoke, but their mouths did not move. It was not in the dream mindspeech; it was just sound emanating from them, saying what they did not say aloud. "Take it," in Claire's voice; then, "Yes, let me cut," in Drake's. His dream-voice sounded deeper than he sounded to himself, and the southern drawl was more pronounced. "Here," in Claire's most commanding tone, as she pointed to her own chest. Dream-Claire lifted her shirt and took it off, baring her chest. She touched the dribble of blood at the corner of dream-Drake's mouth and drew an X in red right over her heart. "Cut deep," her voice sounded. "No," in his voice, suddenly afraid. "Obey me!" and he reached up, still on his knees. The knife touched her, and a sharp pain
He pulled out of the dream again, his hand poised over her sleeping form. "No," he whispered. He lay back, staring at the ceiling, and waited for her to waken.