Dark Side of Dawn: The Nightmare Chronicles by Kathryn Smith

okay. Really.”
    He grabbed my arm—not hard, but just enough to stop me.
    “Is it your mom?” he asked, pulling me close again.
    I didn’t want to be another victim he tried to save. I didn’t want him to look at me that way. But, I wasn’t going to lie to him either. “She’s worried the specialist my family hired will wake her up.”
    “How do you feel about that?”
    I smiled despite myself. “Why, I have conflicting emotions concerning that, Dr. Clarke.”
    His gaze met mine. He was smiling too, and his eyes sparkled like polished onyx. “Smart ass. What’s the Nightmare stuff?”
    My smile melted. I was going to have to tell him eventually—especially if I was in trouble. God, for all I knew, the Warden might question him, or worse, wipe his memory or something. Could the Council do that?
    “I’m being brought before the Nightmare Council tonight,” I confided.
    He didn’t frown again, but there was concern all over his face. “What for?”
    He knew what for—or at least he had an idea. I could feel it in the sudden tension that stiffened his muscles and the thinness of his mouth. “For bringing you into the Dreaming.”
    “But you did that to save me.”
    “I freaked them out.” And by them, I meant everyone who had been there with Morpheus to witness the visit. I don’t know the exact head count, but some of the Council had been there.
    “When did you find out about this?” Noah asked.
    I didn’t meet his gaze. “Last night. While we were asleep.”
    “When were you going to tell me?”
    I tried to grin. “When I had to.”
    He didn’t smile. “You should have told me.”
    Here we go. The trigger for Noah’s “issues” had just been pulled. “So you could do what? Worry about me as well as Amanda?”
    He stomped over to the menu cupboard and pulled a stack out. “I hate it when you try to protect me.” Of course he did. His mother had no doubt tried to protect him as a child.
    “Well, I hate when you get all pissy because you can’t take charge!” Okay, maybe that came out a little snarkier than I intended, and maybe it wasn’t totally fair, but it was true. I could have handled that better, but I wasn’t Noah’s doctor, I was his girlfriend. Damn it. I didn’t feel like putting the effort into being totally P.C.
    The cupboard door slammed shut and I winced. Noah stood at the granite counter with his back to me, shoulders stiffly bowed, pulling the worn gray of his T-shirt tight across his back. I wanted to go to him and wrap my arms around him, but I didn’t.
    “I’m pissy ,” he growled, not turning around, “because you shut me out of your life—like I can’t handle it.”
    “Like you thought Amanda couldn’t handle looking in the mirror?” It wasn’t meant to be a low blow, it was supposed to be a reminder that we all do things that we think will protect people we care about.
    He turned around, obviously surprised. “She told you that?”
    I nodded, but decided not to tell him that I had given her my compact. We could argue over that another time if necessary. Instead I said, “Noah, I didn’t want to tell you about it until it became an issue.”
    “Because you thought I’d freak out?”
    “Because Amanda needs your concern more than I do.” Made me sound like a martyr, but it was true. Also a hypocrite. I didn’t like him spending too much time with his ex, yet here I was pretty much telling him to do just that. “I might need your support later, but right now she needs all you can give her.”
    He didn’t look particularly happy, but he didn’t look angry either. “I thought you were jealous of my concern for Amanda.”
    I shrugged. “I’ll deal.” And I would.
    He came to me then, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. Anyone else and I might have recoiled, but I knew Noah would never hurt me. He would rather die than ever hurt me.
    “You pretend to be so tough,” he murmured, his thumb stroking my temple. “But you’re not.”
    My heart