The Shadow of a Dream

The Shadow of a Dream, The Changeling Covenant Book One (FULL BOOK)

Chapter One

I never wanted to see the future, but dreams are impossible to control.

Homeroom on the first day of senior year should have been exciting, but it was all I could do not to fall asleep after another long night battling dream-induced confusion and terror, even when Delilah Paxton and Robbie Jacobs got detentions for making out in the hallway and, consequently, being late to class.

"Some things never change, do they?"

My friend Corrie spoke up behind me, leaning close but not enough to touch the back of my head. She knew better than to make any sort of physical contact with me, even if she didn't understand why. A flash of dream memory made me blink quickly, as if I could wipe it away, and it took me a moment to respond to her because of it.

"True."

As I said it, I forced myself to stare ahead at the chalkboard, where the teacher was scratching out some numbers and letters while most of the students talked. Robbie was giving Delilah a shoulder massage, and Delilah held her head to the side, her long, black hair draping over the back of her desk like a dark waterfall.

What was that like, I wondered, to feel someone's body heat, the pressure of their hands, the softness of their skin?

"Could he wear a little more aftershave already? Seriously, does he even have facial hair?"

Corrie continued her tirade against the couple, who I definitely agreed were annoying. Robbie reeked of some cheap cologne, but Delillah didn't seem to mind. Everyone knew they hooked up in the backseat of his car in the woods behind the school, but as much as their public demonstrations of affection grossed me out, I was still intrigued.

Having sex in the backseat of a fifteen year old junker was not my idea of romance, but with seventeen years of my life behind me, I was sorely lacking in experience with other human beings in just about every way.

Not that it was my fault.

"I would really appreciate it if no one got pregnant in my class this year," Mr. Coles, our teacher, suddenly turned around and spoke. Several kids laughed, and the boy in front of me, who was swallowing Cheetos practically whole, started to choke. Mr. Coles strode over casually, as if this kid wasn't spewing bits of processed cheese product all over the desk, and slapped him between his shoulder blades three times.

A fragment from last night's dream suddenly played out before my eyes, quick and shocking. A woman with green-tinged skin and yellow-blonde hair piled high on her head, held by a crooked tree twig, shoved a dark-haired boy hard so he stumbled away from her. I couldn't see his face, but I felt bad for him, as I could tell that he had no control over what was happening. I knew what that felt like, that lack of control.

"Miss Lampers. Everything okay?"

I looked up to find Mr. Coles staring at me with concern and maybe a little trepidation. He held his hands up by his shoulders, as if to reassure me that he wasn't going to touch me. I nodded and tried to smile a response, but I knew my smile wasn't as reassuring as I needed it to be to convince him.

Who was the boy in my dream, I wondered. The woman couldn't have been a real human being, not with that creepy-toned skin like a lizard. Maybe she was a metaphor for something in my head that I was worried about, like one of my psychologists had explained years ago.

None of my parade of doctors had ever explained why my dreams came true in one way or another, and so, instead of continuing to drain my parents' bank account and waste all of their time, I had acted like the dreams were no more, and that my sleep was untroubled.