The Magic Within Ch. 02

Marabelle smiled at me. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Cara," she said, then turned to Rex. "I wasn't aware I was interrupting a secret midnight rendezvous." Her laughter was genuine, her posture relaxed where his was tense.

"So, Cara," Marabelle said nonchalantly, coming forward to rest her elbows on the railing closest to me. "What has you up this late at night?" she had a small smile on her face, like she knew a secret I didn't. "Good dreams or bad dreams?" Rex coughed from behind her warningly.

I stared at her, not knowing what to say, unsure of where she was going with this awkward line of questioning.

"You know," she continued, ignoring him, raking a delicate hand through her short blonde hair, "I think dreams can tell you a lot about yourself." She gave me a mischievous smile.

For some reason I didn't think she was referring to the nightmare. A blush stole to my cheeks. This was definitely getting weird.

Rex took a step forward and put a hand on Marabelle's shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was terse. "I don't think that's appropriate."

"You don't think anything is appropriate," Marabelle said smoothly. "Loosen up, Regis." She laughed and disappeared back into the apartment.

Rex's hands unclenched and he let out a huff of exasperation. I got up, my hands flat on my thighs. "I guess I should be getting back." I was eager to remove myself from the situation. Marabelle had made it awkward. I reached for the latch on the door. "Have a good night."

"Wait," Rex called out as I was about to leave. There was a moment as he debated something. "Just—if you need to talk or anything, I'm here. Okay?" I stared. Not waiting for a response, he went inside, shutting the door softly behind him.

Down below, a car alarm went off, piercing the quiet night with a staccato of blaring indignation. Letting out a pent-up breath, I drummed my fingers on the rusted iron railing, thinking but not thinking, the flutter of the nightmare still whispering at the edges of my consciousness.

Below me, a door opened, spilling light onto the concrete sidewalk. There was a muffled curse. The angry sedan chirped twice and went silent.

Rex had asked if I'd wanted to talk about the dream. I could barely remember it now. I closed my eyes, bringing back the searing flames lapping at my heels, then the blessed cool damp of the outdoors, the feel of wet leaves sticking to my palms. There had been someone kneeling beside me, talking to me. But it wasn't my name they were repeating, it was someone else's name. That voice...I screwed up my face, concentrating. Could that voice...could that voice have been Rex's?