Disciple: DreamWalkers, Book 2 Read Free Page A

they could find other dreamers, and they could assess mental stability. Some could erase memories of bystanders.
    Maggie couldn’t even pretend to ignore the wraiths that swarmed outside the shields.
    “You act like I’m going to let you get hurt,” he said, half turning away from her. “Is that your deal?”
    “I haven’t been hurt yet. Much.” His shields weren’t as solid as they could be. They were perforated because of what had happened to him when his previous student had tried to destroy the entire town of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
    His expression blanked. “The one time my shields ragged out on us, there were extenuating circumstances. When you and I train, we’re asleep, not tranced. We’re cushioned. Wraiths can’t hurt you in the sphere when you’re asleep unless they manifest in the terra firma and chow down on you.”
    She climbed into bed. “Chow down. Your imagery astounds me.”
    “It’s what they do, Maggie. But manifestation ain’t gonna happen. Even you can keep the wraiths from using you as an escape hatch.”
    “Thanks for the vote of confidence. It’s good to know your high opinion of me is intact.” The waking dreamsphere—when an alucinator went into the dimension while in a trance instead of asleep—was more like hell than formless nothingness. Any damage that happened in trance translated to the terra firma. Alucinators could die if wraiths attacked them in there.
    After nearly being slain by wraiths two months ago because Zeke had been forced to piggyback her in while awake, he hadn’t pushed her into phase two, where alucinators learned to trance. He said she wasn’t ready. Adi agreed. Maggie didn’t argue.
    Zeke stalked to his own side of the bed but didn’t look at her. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Maggie,” he said in a low voice. “I’m not a total bastard.”
    “I know.”
    Zeke, like many alucinators, sported a touch of hero complex. His protective instincts didn’t mean he needed anything from her, though, besides her cooperation as a student.
    It rankled. They couldn’t be friends, much less lovers.
    She punched her pillow and tugged the fuzzy blanket to her chin. Her sore muscles ached in a good way as she stretched. She’d gotten into the habit of wearing T-shirts and PJ bottoms to bed since that exposed enough skin for them to maintain contact without being provocative. Zeke, who wore boxers, clearly didn’t care if his body provoked her. He probably assumed it didn’t, since he was no longer on that page himself.
    He scratched his chest and sighed. “Your brother isn’t giving Rhys this kind of grief. When I first met Hayden, I pegged him as the troublemaker. Drunk, disorderly, antagonistic.”
    She rolled to her side, her back to him. “Guess you picked the wrong Mackey.”
    “There wasn’t a choice. You and I had a tangible as soon as we met.”
    Zeke had been the area scanner on duty who’d pinpointed her initial manifestation. The mental contact between them had forged a rare tangible bond. Unfortunately, they hadn’t realized Maggie’s brother had woken as a dreamer that night too, since Maggie’s presence had blurred Hayden’s.
    The dual manifestation had confused the field team for several crucial hours. It had been straightened out, but people often compared the two siblings. Hayden had been rated L5, like Maggie, but he was nearly ready to matriculate instead of stuck in phase one. Hayden was kicking ass in combat training. Hayden had ideas for some revolutionary computer simulation of the dreamsphere that had the vigils excited and had earned him a visit from one of the curators, the mysterious heads of the entire Somnium.
    Hayden was the golden child of the current influx of students.
    Maggie was the embarrassment.
    She was happy for Hayden. He’d exploded out of the vicious funk he’d been trapped in since their parents’ deaths. He’d found a new lease on life with the Somnium. But if Zeke compared them one more time,