The Demon Dreamer

Emily

The cabbie drove carefully but with urgency, checking on Nicholas and Harper at intervals.

"Have you got our guns?" Harper whispered to Nicholas.

Nicholas nodded, tapping his waist lightly.

"You doing alright?" he asked.

Harper nodded. "We’ve had quite the past few months, my love."

"We have," Nicholas smiled. Squeezing her hand.

"I want you to know that I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have done any of it without you."

"Yeah," Nicholas chuckled. "Seeing as this was all bound to happen the moment we met."

Harper managed to laugh. "Well, I’d do it all over again."

"Me too," he said, kissing her.

“You’re doing great, Harper. You’re a champ. I need you to give it another good go,” the doctor said, his voice steady but urging.

Nicholas stood beside her, gripping her hand. “You’ve got this, honey.”

“Shut up. I hate you. You put me in this condition,” Harper growled, her voice raw. Her face was flushed deep red, veins standing out along her neck and temples from the effort. Her eyes—wet, fierce—locked on him like it was his fault the earth was shaking.

“My bad, honey,” Nicholas said, leaning in close, smiling just enough to not get slapped. “I promise it won’t happen again. You’ve still got this.”

“You’re damn right it won’t,” she bellowed through clenched teeth.

“All right, Harper, let’s give it another push. You’re doing fantastic,” the doctor said “You’re almost there.”

Harper bore down again, her breath ragged, the pain tearing through her as she strained everything below her ribs. It felt like her spine was splitting. Her pelvic bones were on fire.

“I’m going to kill you after this, Nic. I swear—I’m going to suffocate you in your sleep for doing this to me.”

Nicholas wiped the sweat off her forehead. “I know, babe. I look forward to it. Just one more—come on.”

She let out a guttural scream, head thrown back, the kind of sound that could break glass. Nicholas held on tighter to her hand.

“That’s it, baby… you’re a real champ.”

“Go to hell,” she hissed.

“We’re getting there, Harper,” the doctor reassured her. “One more strong push.”

“She’s starting to crown,” a nurse said.

“You hear that, Harper?” the doctor said, trying to stay upbeat. “You’re crowning. That means—”

“I bloody know what crowning means,” Harper snapped, sweat dripping down her chin.

“You don’t love me, Nic. I knew it. Now I know.”

“Of course I love you, babe.”

“No, you don’t. Stop saying you do.”

“I do, babe.”

“How can you say that? Look at me! You did this to me!”

“I hate you right now, Nic—I bloody hate you.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

“It really hurts,” she said, her voice cracking. “And I’m so tired.”

“I know, baby. Just a little more. We’re almost there.”

“All right, Harper,” the doctor said, his voice softer now. “Your beautiful baby is nearly here. Just one more, I promise. You’ve got it in you.”

Harper nodded, too exhausted to speak. She gripped Nicholas’ hand harder than he thought possible and gave one final, earth-shattering push.

And then—a cry.

The room filled with it. Not hers—this one was soft and sharp and new.

Nicholas stared as the doctor gently handed the tiny, wailing bundle to Harper, placing her against her chest for skin-to-skin contact. Harper was trembling, overwhelmed, but the moment she felt her baby’s warmth, something in her settled.

“She looks like she’s in perfect health. Congratulations,” the doctor said, shaking Nicholas’ hand.

Tears ran freely down Harper’s face now. “She looks like an Emily,” she whispered.

“Emily,” Nicholas echoed, brushing the baby’s cheek with the back of his finger. “Hello, Emily.”

“You want to hold her?” Harper asked, lifting the baby slightly.

Nicholas took her gently, like she was glass. He saw the streak of dark hair, the delicate nose, the searching blue eyes. He knew then—he would never love anything more in his life.

"Alright," the doctor said. "We need to clean her up, give her some vitamins, antibiotics, and run some important tests."

"I can clean my own child," Harper shot back. "I’m not letting her out of my sight."

"Sorry, madam, it’s protocol. We also need to weigh her and—"

"And you can do all of that in here, can’t you?"

"We have a dedica—"

Just then, the doctors and nurses froze like statues.

Harper felt a chilling fright.

"They’ve come for her," she said, turning to Nicholas.

Before she could make another move or say another word, she felt herself being drained of energy, accompanied by a distinct kind of bleakness.

Nicholas felt the same. Fearing he might fall, he gently sat on the bed next to Harper.

Then they entered. No fewer than five nondescript figures, all dressed in black, their faces hidden by balaclavas, each brandishing a somner—a clear crystal the size of a golf ball—pointed in their direction. As they drew closer, Nicholas and Harper weakened further.

Emily began to cry. Her burgeoning motherly instincts recognized the worry and fear in her wailing. Harper grew horror-struck and agitated and began to fight the influence of the crystals. They will not take my child.

But Harper’s strength was nearly completely sapped. Her head was spinning, and her vision had become foggy. She resolved to use the last of her energy to seek out any particular distinguishing features. She realized that at least one of them was a woman—the large black shirt unable to fully hide her full-chested outline. She also noticed a tattoo of interlocking rings on the inside of her left wrist as she reached out to remove her child from Nicholas’ protective arms.

But Nicholas held firm. He was having slightly more success at resisting the somners. This filled Harper with hope. But the more he fought, the closer they got, weaving their way through the statuesque doctor and nurses, encircling them both—until eventually, one of them struck Nicholas hard on the head with a baton, knocking him out.

Harper gasped as she watched Emily slip from Nicholas’ hands.

The full-chested woman with the tattooed wrist had to call upon catlike reflexes to ensure that Emily didn’t fall to the ground.

She turned to the one who struck Nicholas and hissed furiously at him.

Then she placed her crystal on Nicholas’ midriff. The rest followed—two placing theirs on Nicholas, and two on Harper.

The last thing Harper remembered was the black form of the kidnappers leaving the room, knowing that would be the last thing she would see in the land of the living.

The somner would put them in a wakeless sleep.