The Dream Thief, Kari Kilgore [reading well TXT] 📗

the only thing she hadn't been able to adjust to suit her need for near-invisibility. Thankfully the mist was light enough to dissipate only a few feet above Loretta's head.

She'd often wondered if Builders felt this same tingling anticipation warring with calm as they settled in their cradles, preparing to Build with the towering Blunderbuss instead of her tiny Dragon, barely the length of her arm. Somehow she doubted it was the same.

Working as a group with the Blunderbuss did not require such risks and thrills, nor did it offer the seductive tingle of theft.

Loretta knelt on the ground, settling against her leather shoes. Not as stylish or big enough to hold knives like her boots, the flats were silent and far more comfortable for a long night's work. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

As she always did at this moment, she spared a thought for her grandmother, Gemma, vowing to send coin from these Builds for her upkeep and safety. That was a vow she never failed to keep.

The horrid object the Labines were going to pay her very well for, a necklace made of toes, swam before her mind's eye. She turned the thing, looking at details, locking it into the unemotional center of her focus. Loretta pushed, reaching out to the sleeping mind she needed in order to Build.

With a rush of power that made her lightheaded, she made contact. Knowing the Dragon made the actual connection didn't change the sensation. Loretta held the thing up in her mind, moving it forward a millimeter at a time. This time she felt the secure click of a well-made lock striking home.

The image in her mind, while still unpleasant, was no longer faint and hard to hold. Now she felt as if she could reach out and touch it as the Builder's talent took over. Each small toenail, each tiny wrinkle and hair, each half-decayed fold of dead flesh grew vivid and sharp. The necklace itself started to change, and Loretta watched instead of interfering.

That was one of the advantages of working with the Builder who made the request. The Builder knew what she wanted more than she could ever had explained in words. The rough twine cord shifted to a silver chain, and the order of the toes rearranged themselves until they went from largest to smallest, all the way to examples that had to be fetal beside the clasp. When the changes stopped, Loretta shifted her push.

Now she saw the necklace settling on the far edge of her target table, in the space she thought of as One. She saw it exactly as the sleeping Builder had just specified, down to the dirt under the largest nails, coiled up in the circle. Loretta slipped into the only role she could play in a Build.

Conduit.

The Dragon drew from the Builder, the Dragon sent through Loretta, the Dragon aimed for the table. The energy and movement flowed through her like the frightening amounts of electricity her grandmother commanded at will.

Every part of her—her heartbeat, her thoughts, her breathing, the very blood in her veins—moved to the rush and rhythm of that circuit.

The shift hit her as a physical change, the tipping point between pleasure and release. Loretta had no need to double check, to make sure the Build was complete. She felt the manifestation from Builder to Dragon to reality, passing through her in an almost painfully exhilarating burst.

Careful not to let the connection drop, Loretta slowed the energy from the Builder. This woman was powerful, nearly as strong as the one she'd lost to Joffrey Columns months before. The nine builds tonight should be no problem.

She would have to move on to another house tomorrow night to be certain Mrs. Labine didn't get pushed over the edge into burnout and insanity. Losing a strong Builder she was comfortable with and having to find a new one took far too much time and effort.

She had no time to bask in the afterglow of creation, not tonight. The next object floated into Loretta's mind, a gynecological horror greatly desired by the respectable couple three doors down.

In some cases, this was harder since she had to keep the Builder focused and not allow changes. Most of the time, though, they were cooperative with things they didn't want themselves. The main difference was Loretta's focus on space number Two on her table.

She wondered sometimes if the things she forced them to Build ever showed up behind their sleeping eyes, even though she knew she was likely the only person in all of Waldron's Gate who didn't take Crumble. She might be the only one who could dream.

Hours later but with dawn not yet breaking, Loretta opened her eyes. The house in front of her was still dark, as was everything else around her. Nine dreadful objects waited in her basement, the closest possible match to their future owners' dark desires. The deliveries, and the payments, would wait for another day.

Loretta packed up her tools and stood, stretching her back and arms. The cool night air settled into her bones more than it used to as she got into her thirties. She might have to procure a coat or cushion of some kind to protect her from the damp chill.

The Builds had been good; she could feel it. On the rare occasion when the Builder had awakened or had simply not been strong enough, or perhaps had missed a dose of Crumble, Loretta felt the failure right away.

Everything could not have gone more smoothly tonight. With any luck, tomorrow's Builder would be as powerful and easy to manipulate. Once she'd cleared her table and prepared herself, another nine Builds awaited.

Loretta turned toward home and her own uninvaded sleep.

Chapter 5

The next day was so hectic that Karl barely had time to breathe, much less ask around about all those new admissions. The overwhelming workload forced him to rush eleven raw trainees through their orientation in record time. His guilt