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And when I couldn’t figure out what was going on in my own life, I liked to turn to the literary world.
There was something comforting about re-reading a story, as if you were having a conversation with a friend.
“We are the Sons of Vlad, created in the mirror of his image,” Zane said as if that made perfect sense. “Dmitri is the aspect of the beast.”
“For which part?” I asked. “For the wild make-out session? For you eyeballing my throat like it was a tasty, tasty treat? Or for running away from me and leaving me with a throbbing case of blue-ovaries?”
“I will never make you do something you do not wish to do. I will only use that power on you to keep you from harm, as long as you, little necromancer, promise the same.”
“A dreamscape is another dimension, accessible only by the unconscious mind. A dreamscape is created by a somniamancer, and is, in its own way, as real as the world we live in. The scape itself is malleable, as most dreams are, but the pain inflicted in these dreams is real, up to and including death. To die in a dreamscape is to be cut from one’s corporeal body and thus die here in the terra realm.
“You are the angstiest guy I have ever met, and I was in high school while the scene kids were there.”
“Okay, if there is no chance of me getting you out of those pants, you are going to have to chill out with the dirty jokes. Pervy puns are the best way to get me naked.”
