And you can shut up, too, she added to her lynx, who was growling objections deep in her chest.
***
That night, Stella managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. All that running around had been good for more than just fun.
She dreamed about Todd coming to the house. He was a bird shifter, somehow, and showed up at the window, pecking and pecking, and Stella somehow couldn't stop herself from standing up and going to let him in.
Once she did, though, he transformed into a man again, and she realized what she'd done and had to run away. She ran through the house, looking for Nate, but the house had turned into this crazy funhouse mansion, and she dashed from room to room but never seemed to get anywhere. She knew Nate was there, downstairs in the front room, sleeping on the couch, and all she had to do was go find him—but every time she went through a door, it just led to more rooms, and she couldn't find the stairs. And Todd was behind her the whole time, gaining and gaining—
She woke up with a gasp.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her breaths rasped in her ears. Fear pulsed through her, making her tremble.
It was just a dream.
Just a dream. But she couldn't make herself lie down again. The window seemed sinister, like an open door out into the night. The house seemed to stretch infinitely around her.
She'd just go get a glass of water. Remind herself that the stairs were exactly where she’d left them, and the house was a familiar haven, not a terrifying maze.
Stella got up, padding silently out into the hall in her tank top and pajama pants. Her feet remembered all the creaky boards, and she slipped down the stairs without making a noise. Every step reassured her: this was the house where she'd grown up, and nothing and no one was in here except for the people who were welcome.
She got to the kitchen and took out a glass, and was about to fill it up when she felt...something. A warmth somewhere behind her.
She turned around, and Nate was standing in the doorway.
Stella didn't jump, didn't feel startled. She'd known he'd be there. And seeing him washed the last of the nightmare away.
“Hi,” she said. “Did I wake you? I'm sorry.”
“Not a problem,” he said easily. “It's my job to know when people are moving around at night. And you were very quiet.”
“Well,” she said, and then stopped. She didn't want him to leave, but it wouldn't be very nice to keep him standing here at—she checked the microwave—two-thirty-three in the morning. “Nothing's wrong. No need for rescuing or anything. You can go back to sleep.”
He hesitated in the door, fingers tapping the frame, looking at her with those penetrating eyes. It was dim in the kitchen, so she shouldn't have been able to see their color at all, but somehow there was still a flash of blue visible.
“Are you all right?” he asked finally.
Stella looked away. Filled up the water glass. “Why do you ask?”
He was quiet for long enough that she looked back. He had a strange expression on his face, faraway and thoughtful. “I don't know,” he said. “You seem...unsettled. Did something happen?”
Well, this was embarrassing. Stella thought about lying, or just putting him off somehow, but that blue gaze didn’t want to let her.
So she admitted, a little shamefaced, “Nothing really happened. I had a nightmare, that’s all.”
She wasn’t expecting him to make fun of her for it—unlike some of her exes, Nate was way too classy and kind to do something like that—but she’d thought that he would relax. Like, oh, good, there’s nothing actually wrong.
Instead, his brow furrowed with concern and he took a couple of steps forward. “A nightmare? Are you okay?”
“I—I’m fine.” Stella stumbled over her answer in surprise. “You know. It wasn’t real. Everything’s fine, everyone’s safe.”
His face softened, and he took another step. “Was it Todd?”
Stella hesitated, and then nodded. “He got in—I let him in—and then he was chasing me, and I was looking for you, but the house was enormous and I couldn’t get to the stairs.” She let out a little self-deprecating laugh. “You know. Standard nightmare fare. It’s not that big a deal.”
But he looked troubled. “It’s not right that you don’t feel safe in your own house,” he said. “You know, most of my clients are companies. I’m usually keeping someone’s place of work safe. Often from corporate espionage, or plain old theft. And there’s usually a lot of money involved, which makes it seem more important than it really is. But this—Stella, you being afraid of your home being invaded by a man who should have cared for you—this is a big deal.”
Stella bit her lip, swallowing back the sudden tears that were threatening. Why were his words touching her so deeply? Like they reached into her chest and caught some heavy sadness that had been in there for so long she’d forgotten it was there.