Cool Nights, Hot Dreams: Wolves of Aurora 1 Read online

  Cool Nights, Hot Dreams

  Wolves of Aurora 1

  Athena Blaez

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also By Athena Blaez

  Copyright © 2019 by Athena Blaez

  Editing by Picky Cat Proofreading & Copyediting

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Prologue

  Careful, monsters live in these woods.

  Sean instantly recognized this wasn’t a normal dream.

  It started like all his dreams started, in a place he didn’t immediately recognize. Sometimes he was indoors, sometimes outdoors, there was no pattern. Normal dreams, if they could be called such, he attributed to brain dumps. The brain taking advantage of not having constant input from being awake and dumping all the external data that was processed but no longer needed.

  Prophetic dreams, on the other hand, had several characteristics.

  One, Sean knew he was dreaming. He was actually conscious during his dream. Or his mind was. That was the biggest giveaway.

  Second, the colors were vivid. Most of his dreams, when reflecting on them in the morning in his dream journal, he remembered being very subdued in lighting and coloring. Muted grays and filters that shaded colors to a muddy remembrance.

  Standing in the forest glade, even though it was night in his dream, the colors were vibrant. As if he could reach out and run his fingers through the green of the leaves on the low hanging branches. The night sky, even with a full moon, was not black but that deep midnight blue hue that was reminiscent of velvet.

  In his hand, he held a locket. Gold chain, black and ivory cameo. It was a locket. A sepia tone set of pictures were inside. A man and a woman. Most likely husband and wife. A keepsake. He put it in his pocket.

  Around him, the forest itself hid most of the shadows further back, as if he were the source of illumination. The closer he stepped to the edge of the forest, the more the shadows receded.

  At the edge of the clearing, he saw someone stretched out on the ground. Leaves and twigs covered him. Due to the vibrancy of the colors, the red of his shirt stood out, almost overwhelming the scene. The man’s face, Sean just knew it was a man and not a woman…although he didn’t know why. He just…knew, was obscured. Sean approached the body to investigate.

  There was a sound behind him, a deep growl. Comforting and dangerous, two diametrically opposed sensations that didn’t seem that much in opposition. He turned to confront the intruder.

  No. Intruder wasn’t the right word. When Sean recognized a prophetic dream, he knew it was almost always about someone else. And that someone else would make an appearance sooner or later.

  Maybe it would be a symbolic dream. Some of them were. To be sorted when he was awake and trying to purge the images from his mind.

  Some were literal.

  Those were the ones which scared him most.

  A locket weighing heavily in his pocket. A body on the ground.

  He turned to the sound of the growl.

  A wolf stood in the middle of the glade. The wolf was larger than most. His conscious mind immediately picked out the differences between the wolves he saw on nature programs and the one which stood before him.

  This wolf was thicker, heavier. His eyes shone in the night like two beacons. His body, it was clear, was more powerful than any wolf he’d seen before.

  Sean remembered this wolf from dreams in his past. Although they were fleeting dreams and rested in that muddled middle between a brain dump dream and a prophetic one, it was more of a feeling of familiarity than of a conscious one. The feeling was much harder to shake.

  The wolf padded slowly towards him. Every step brought a change in the wolf’s form, as natural as the loamy ground beneath his feet. His feet were huge and wasn’t that a funny observation? Huge wolf feet.

  When Sean looked up again, a man stood in front of him.

  Correction.

  A gorgeous man stood in front of him. Even in the light of the night moon, his hair was blindingly blond. Eyes the color of deep jade peered at him, giving him a quizzical look. “Do I know you?”

  That meant, most likely, the man realized he was living in a dream as well. Sean shook his head slowly. “I recognize you, I think. But…I don’t know. I shouldn’t be here. You didn’t do this.”

  Why had that thought occurred to him? Because he just knew. That was, unfortunately, how these dreams worked. Sean knew things he shouldn’t or wouldn’t normally know.

  Before he could turn away, the man grabbed his hand and pulled him roughly into an embrace. “I didn’t do this and I think you should be here,” he said in a low gruff voice.

  The growl that wound from the man’s chest vibrated beneath Sean’s hands as they rested between them. His cock was instantly hard, throbbing against the seam of the zipper of his jeans. When their bodies pressed tightly together, he felt the answering erection grind against him.

  Sean had zero impulse control in this dream. He felt he should act. There was no rhyme or reason, only that he needed to and this would be his only chance.

  It was crazy to think about, a bit mind-breaking, actually.

  Throwing caution to the wind, he started jerking at his shirt to get it over his head.

  He landed with a thud on the ground. Crazy how it felt comfortable to be stretched out on a forest floor. Soft leaves and moss cradled his body. No roots or sticks to poke him.

  Then the man was in him, filling him, thrusting over him. Sean’s eyes rolled back and he held on. Hands on the man’s shoulders, his legs wrapped tightly around the man’s waist. To feel someone inside him after his five-year-long dry spell was like having a deep, irritating itch finally scratched.

  Heaven was as close as he could get to describing it. Just the two of them, rocking on the forest ground until his orgasm swelled within his body and expressed between the press of their stomachs…

  And Sean awoke with a start, sweating and panting in his bed, the uncomfortable sticky warmth on his skin a reminder that had he had just walked into someone’s dream.

  Again.

  That was never a good sign.

  Chapter 1

  Sean Hastings tried to stifle the yawn that threatened to make his eyes water and his jaw crack when he keyed in the back door of his shop. It didn’t work. He had to blink his eyes to clear them. The pawnshop felt close and stifling, like the air was warmish and not moving. He went to the thermostat to set it at a comfortable level before he engaged the switch to roll the security grating up.

  As it clacked along, he set up the till.

  His business, a pawnshop, named imaginatively as the Pawn Shop, was just beginning to see brisk trade.

  Regardless of whether the president a
ssured the country economic times were turning around, people were still desperate for cash.

  The small town of Aurora was no different.

  Small town Americana. Sidewalks that rolled up at 6 p.m., except for the honky-tonks and bars and the few gas stations opened on the outskirts of town to skirt around the business curfew. Streets lined with red, white, and blue banners, decorations for whatever national holiday was next on the books. Everyone knew everyone by first name, and if you had any business at all in Aurora, you could bet everyone else knew it by the end of the week.

  On the counter next to the register sat a gold and ivory locket. It didn’t have a price tag on it. Katrina must have left it out before she closed up for the night. Picking it up, he thumbed it open. Inside sat two sepia-toned photos of a man and a woman.

  He had this locket in his dream last night.

  There was a tap on the glass that brought his attention up. His best friend, Jeremy, waved when Sean looked up. He pointed down, towards the lock.

  Right. He’d forgotten to unlock the door.

  Sean pocketed the locket to deal with later and grabbed his keys to unlock the door. He flipped the sign around to display OPEN.

  “Morning, Jeremy,” Sean said, stifling another yawn.

  “Late night or early morning?” Jeremy presented a bag from the bakery down the street and a carrier with two coffees before heading straight for the counter. He dragged a stool up and flapped the bag down, tearing into it to distribute his loot.

  Sean followed, settling on the stool across from his friend. Gratefully, he took the offered caffeine. He removed the lid and inhaled deeply, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Bad night. And thanks for this. I was late getting out of the house this morning and didn’t have time for breakfast.”

  “I know.” Jeremy tapped his temple.

  Sean rolled his eyes. “Telepath as well?”

  “Don’t need to be a telepath to feel the waves of exhaustion coming from you, man.”

  Jeremy’s special gift, or curse—depending on how you looked at it, was empathic in nature. It was why it made him so in demand during the tourist months in Aurora.

  Jeremy Morrison was the town psychic. His shop, Mystics, Inc., was next door. His specialty was tarot card readings. His gift was being able to connect empathically with anyone.

  Sean was still on the fence as to whether that made Jeremy a fake in the fortune-telling department or not.

  As Jeremy was a longtime friend, Sean chose not to come down on judgment at all.

  “So, bad night. Dreams again?”

  Sean nodded. “I hadn’t had one like that in years.” He sipped at his coffee, letting the shot of the double espresso hit his system before he took a breath. “I had hoped they stopped once and for all.”

  “That’s a rare gift you have, Sean,” Jeremy pointed out with a lift of one finger. “Entering dreams like that.”

  “And what good does this gift do me?” It came out as an impatient snarl and he sat back. Squeezing his eyes shut, he held up a hand. “Sorry, Jeremy. I’m still groggy. It was disturbing.”

  Jeremy leaned in. “Was it literal or symbolic?”

  They had been friends for decades, first bonding over lunch at the geek table in high school. The closer they got, the more they each explored their abilities. They had done this particular dance for many, many years, all through college.

  “Literal.” Which was what made the dream so especially disturbing. “At least it felt that way at first. Then this guy was there and…” Sean shrugged.

  “Oh God, did you have dream sex again?” Jeremy set his cup down and leaned in. “Was he hot?”

  Sean swayed on his stool. “Do you have to be such a perv about it?”

  “Hey, if I can’t get laid, I’m going to live vicariously through my friends. Even if that getting laid was through his dreams.” Jeremy jabbed a finger at Sean. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Yes,” Sean hissed out in aggravation. Jeremy wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted. “He was hot. Extremely hot.”

  “And the sex? Come on, Sean. Help a brother out. Let me feel it.”

  “Jesus, you are a perv. No, I am not going to let you feel it.”

  Even with his protestations, Sean couldn’t block out the images as they conjured into his mind again. Just snips of the dream, but they were powerful enough that he couldn’t block them from leaking through his thoughts.

  Jeremy reeled back on the stool. “Jesus, man,” he said, catching himself on the counter. He waved his hands. “Fine, fine. Shield your shit, like I showed you. Otherwise I’ll have to go back to my shop and have a session in the bathroom.” He mimicked jerking off.

  Sean pressed his fingers to his eyes. He was practiced at bringing up the shields when needed to keep from overwhelming Jeremy. Most of the time they weren’t needed, as Jeremy was strong enough to shield himself.

  But their close friendship had its downsides, and one of them was how powerfully Jeremy could experience Sean’s strong emotions.

  He pulled the imagery around him of the purple bubble, shimmering into place, putting Sean in its protective center. With every breath out, he filled it until he could feel Jeremy’s distance and all the crazy emotions finally calmed.

  “Sorry,” Sean said, when he opened his eyes.

  “It’s cool,” Jeremy sighed. “It was just you had a particularly strong reaction to this guy. Do you know who he is?”

  “Kind of?” Sean sat down again and picked up his chocolate glazed donut to eat. “I know I’ve seen him around town but he hasn’t come into the shop that I remember.”

  “So.” Jeremy pulled out his raspberry filled pastry and sucked at his fingers from the leaking filling. “Literal dream, involved sex with superhot guy. That was it?”

  “There was a dead body.”

  Jeremy just nodded, his attention focused on his donut.

  Sean popped the last of his donut in and retrieved the second that he knew Jeremy picked up for him. He wasn’t disappointed.

  “Anyone you recognize?”

  “No.” Sean tore his donut into pieces. “I’m not sure if I should contact the sheriff.”

  “What would you say to him anyway?” Jeremy looked thoughtfully at Sean. “ ‘Hey, Sheriff. I had a dream about a dead body. I don’t know where. I don’t know who. I don’t know anything except he’s dead.’ That’s just asking to get into shit with the law.”

  “Sheriff Bradley seems like a nice enough guy,” Sean said reasonably. Being the only pawnshop in town, he had quite a bit of dealing with the law when it came to trying to pawn stolen goods.

  Small town or not, Aurora still saw its share of criminal activity. Especially at the height of tourist season.

  “Maybe he’d listen.”

  Jeremy waved a hand. “How did the dream make you feel?”

  This was truly why Sean appreciated Jeremy’s friendship. He understood these ‘gifts’ far better than Sean. Jeremy had embraced his ability to form empathic connections with other people while Sean tried to run from his inconvenient ability to dreamwalk.

  Being able to navigate the confusing and conflicting feelings left behind from these dreams was not something Sean tried to cultivate, hoping it would finally give up and go away from nonuse.

  Turned out, that’s not how these ‘gifts’ worked.

  “Other than the sex part—”

  “Stop thinking about it, please—”

  “Sorry…I get the feeling it hasn’t happened yet.” Sean swirled his cup and drank down the last of his coffee. “Of course, I haven’t checked the local paper to see if anything has come up.”

  “And you didn’t recognize the body?”

  Sean shook his head. “I didn’t.”

  “And your dream guy, did he do it?”

  “No,” Sean said. “I don’t think he did. But they’re connected somehow.”

  They sat in silence for a while. Sean could see that Jeremy was tryi
ng to work through it in his head.

  His counsel was very appreciated if he had anything to offer. Even so, after a moment, Jeremy shook his head. “I got nothing, Sean. But…when in doubt, wait. Something will present itself. Want me to pull a reading on it, see what the cards say?”

  Sean wasn’t sure he actually believed in the tarot aspect of Jeremy’s abilities. But…he could concede on this point. “It couldn’t hurt.”

  Jeremy finished off his donut and crumpled the bag. He flicked it across the counter to Sean, who caught it. “I don’t open for an hour so I’ll do it right now. If anything comes up that’s useful, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks, and thanks for breakfast. The sugar and caffeine should get me moving.” Shaking the vestiges of cobwebs that clung to his mind after a prophetic dream like that took longer than simply being groggy from a restless night’s sleep.

  Jeremy stood and gave Sean a cheeky grin. He tapped his temple and headed for the door. “I’ll check in at lunch. Is Katrina working today?”

  “Her little girl had a doctor’s appointment this morning but she said she’ll be in by lunch. I have some jewelry she needs to appraise.”

  “Good. I’ll see you then.”

  With a wave, Jeremy pushed out the door and headed for his shop.

  It was still early morning and most of the town was still waking up. They were in the first throes of summer. Schools were starting to let out and the tourist traffic was starting to pick up.

  The Pawn Shop was just that. It was a pawnshop. But Sean didn’t just take in anything for pawn or for resale.

  His mother, before cancer started to tear away at her body, was an experienced antique picker. She trained Sean in the art of seeing the value in things, even beneath a layer of dust, grime and rust. So the items in his shop weren’t the usual offerings of crap from desperate people. Although those did occasionally come through his doors.