Lauren smiled at him. “Because you can’t housebreak a puppy in space.” She pointed at the furry bundle in his arms. “Look, she’s proving my point right now.”
“What? Oh!” he exclaimed, looking down at the spreading wet spot on the front of his shirt. He looked up at Lauren ruefully. “I guess you’re right.”
“I know I’m right.” She nodded. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and then we’ll see if there’s a Petsmart still open. We need to get some food and a flea collar if this little girl is going to stay.” She looked more closely at the puppy which was still snuggled comfortably in his arms, apparently unaware that she’d just wet all over the one who had saved her. “What are you going to name her, anyway?”
“Little One.” For a moment Xairn’s face lost its look of misery and he almost smiled. “Her name is Little One.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
“You’re sure about this?” Sophia looked at her uncertainly but Nadiah nodded her head firmly.
“This is the only way. I need to see the dream through to its conclusion or that stupid Detective Rast will never believe me.”
“I just hate to leave you to have, well, nightmares.” Sophia twisted her fingers together in obvious agitation. “It seems wrong to leave you alone when I hear you screaming.”
“I’m sorry.” Nadiah laid a hand on her arm. “If it bothers you I can get a guest suite tomorrow. But I feel really strongly that this is what I need to do.”
“No, no—we don’t want you to leave.” Sophia shook her head quickly. “I just…have a hard time letting someone be in any kind of pain if I can stop it.”
“Just think of the pain that poor girl will experience if we can’t get to her in time,” Nadiah said darkly. “My fear is nothing compared to what she’s going to be going through if I can’t stop her abduction.”
Sophia nodded reluctantly. “I suppose you’re right. Well, if you’re really sure…”
“I am,” Nadiah said firmly, even though her heart was drumming behind her ribs. “Truly, Sophia.”
“Okay then. Good night.” With one last uncertain look, Sophia closed the bedroom door, leaving Nadiah in the dark.
She sank back on the warm, comfortable bed and stared up at the shadowy ceiling. She couldn’t explain where her sense of certainty came from—she just knew this was the right thing to do. Even if it meant suffering through horrible nightmares, she needed to see what the Sight was trying to show her. She had to give in to her gift, even if it meant giving herself up to the terrors of the night.
Of course, it was going to be hard on Sophia and Sylvan to hear her yelling in the next room. Nadiah promised herself that she would move into a guest suite as soon as possible. The idea of waking up in a strange place all alone in the dark after a horrible dream was awful but wasn’t fair to ask them to put up with her bloodcurdling screams.
She’d been sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep but before she knew it, Nadiah’s eyelids drifted closed and her breathing became soft and even.
Then she had the dream…
She was flying in the high, blue sky of Earth but not in body—in spirit. She knew because she couldn’t see herself when she looked down. Just lots of green trees and grass and those strange man-made outcroppings the humans lived in called “houses.” Nadiah still thought it must feel strange and exposed to live on the surface of the planet instead of safely underground in a grotto, but she was intrigued by their dwellings just the same.
Soon she found herself hovering over an especially large white house with a neatly trimmed lawn. There were expensive looking cars in the driveway but it was the back yard that drew Nadiah’s attention. There, two children were playing. Or rather, a child and a young woman, she realized after looking more closely.
The young woman had long auburn hair that was blowing in the warm summer breeze. It sparkled like rubies in the sun. She was pushing the little boy—who looked to be eight or nine—high into the air on some kind of play set.
“Higher!” the boy cried, pumping his legs as he soared toward the sky where Nadiah hovered, watching. “Swing me higher, Jessie!” His eyes were bright green in the sunlight and his hair was golden brown and tousled as though he’d been playing hard.
“Any higher and you’ll flip over, kiddo,” she said, laughing. “Mom’ll kill me if you break your neck.”
“Sing the song then. Sing and swing. Sing and swing,” the boy chanted.