Date: Sun, 15 Aug 2010 15:47:44 -0600
From: Katya_Dee <concertoind@gmail.com>
Subject: The Dreamtrap - chapter 2

This is a story of fiction, all resemblances (dead or alive) are eerily
coincidental. Everything in the story is owned by myself beloved. Contains
descriptive sexual scenes between males, if you are not supposed to read it
then don't.

This is a sequel to Debts </nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/debts/>; this story picks
up exactly where Debts left off. I didn't do much (if any) explanations
from the previous story, so if you never read Debts, this might be
confusing at some places. Other than that, enjoy! Feel free to e-mail me.

****

- II -



            Raven ran his mouth lightly on the back of Julian's neck, noting
that almost non-existing smile, and left the restaurant after the blond
started saying something business-like to his lunch companions. He walked
towards his car, lazily throwing off invisibility once he stepped behind
some tree, and when he got inside, he sat still for a few seconds, frowning
thoughtfully and beating his fingers on the steering wheel lightly. Finally,
he nodded to himself and turned the keys in the ignition. He could think of
at least six antique shops around the city, and he was hoping to find
something he would like in one of them.

   ...Four hours and five antique shops later, Raven was beyond frustrated,
tired, and hungry. There was absolutely nothing in either one of those shops
-- he couldn't believe this! Oh, sure, there was some decent furniture,
interesting looking jewelry and other stuff like that, but not a single
attention-catching painting.

   "How hard is it to find one goddamn painting?" he muttered and glanced
around, looking for the nearest food joint. Unlike Salamander, Raven could
care less about exotic dishes or expensive dining places; he didn't mind
them, he would enjoy them whenever he was out with Julian, but when he was
hungry, a fat, greasy hamburger and some equally greasy fries certainly won
the prize. He swiftly turned into a parking lot of some small restaurant
with a picture of disturbingly obese little boy on the logo, and parked
under a tree, aiming for some shade -- it was getting rather hot lately.

   Julian wouldn't be caught dead eating one of those things, he thought
melancholically while waiting for his hamburger ten minutes later. He
shrugged to himself, grabbed his plate with oozing grease hamburger and a
serious mound of fries, and walked into the back of the restaurant, hoping
to find a clean table. The one in the very back was clean enough, and Raven
sat down, wincing slightly at the unpleasant feeling of old cracked leather
of the bench.

   He was wolfing down his hamburger, staring through the dirty glass of the
window absent-mindedly, trying to remember locations of some other shops,
when he blinked several times, frowned, and leaned forward without
abandoning his hamburger.

   "Your coffee, hun," someone said, and he turned his head.

   "Thanks," he muttered when the waitress sat a coffee mug in front of him.
"Hey, what is that place over there?" he pointed towards the window, and the
waitress leaned forward just a little and squinted her eyes.

   "Oh, that's a pawnshop," she said after a few seconds and straightened
up. "Got opened a month or so ago..."

   That explained why Raven couldn't remember seeing that place before --
it's been a while since he stopped in this part of the city.

   "The owner is a slick little bastard," the waitress was saying meanwhile,
and Raven shot her a questioning look. "He is making money hand over fist,"
she explained. "I remember what he was driving when he opened that place...
It was just some piece of crap car..." She snorted. "You should see what he
is driving now..."

   "Good businessman?" Raven offered, and she snorted again.

   "Good scammer," she said in a low voice. "Frankly, I think he is doing
something else besides ripping people off though... There are quite a few
shady-looking characters visiting that shop all the time... Of course, in
this part of the city, you have to be shady-looking to set a foot in such a
place," she shrugged, and Raven smiled at that. "Would you like anything
else, hun?"

   "I am good," Raven shook his head quickly, finishing the rest of his
hamburger and fries. "Thanks!"

   "Let me know if there is anything you want," she gave him a quick, tired
smile. "A piece of advice..." She looked out of the window again. "If you
think you want to buy something from that guy, don't let him know that you
have the funds... Believe me," she nodded firmly. "You don't want him to
know that!"

   "Thanks," Raven smiled at her, thinking that the owner would have to be
suicidal if he decided to rip him (or rather Julian) off if Raven were to
buy something from him.

   She flashed him another quick smile and walked away, limping slightly.
Raven gulped down some of his coffee, wincing slightly at the burnt taste it
assaulted his taste buds with, and got up, leaving several bills on the
table. Dirty place or not but he liked that woman, therefore, he left a
decent tip.

   He stopped by his car and thought for several seconds. Finally, he
shrugged and walked towards the pawnshop. He was already here; might as well
see what the guy was selling.

   "You know," his inner self said thoughtfully. "If this were a movie, that
would be when the main character would decide to go into some random
pawnshop just so he could get some cursed item, come back a week later, and
find out that there *was *no pawnshop to begin with..."

   Raven sighed, thinking that when it came to his luck with random
dangerous items, this might very well be the case.

   "In case if I find anything," he muttered under his breath. "Which is
unlikely," he said pointedly. "Anyway, if I *do *buy something there, I'll
make sure that Julian runs a scan on it..."

   "In the movie..." his inner voice started saying, but he grimaced ant cut
it off.

   "Shut up," he muttered. "I don't think this guy would be dealing with
anything bigger than money loitering, and I could care less about that!"

   His inner self was about to say something else, but Raven cut it off and
pushed open the door of the small shop -- it only took him five minutes or so
to get there from the food joint's parking lot. He expected to see some old
person, whose appearance would match `a movie' description to the *t. *However,
the minute he walked inside, he only saw a middle-aged couple and some
plum-looking guy, who looked like he was in his early forties.

   "...genuine dragon leather," the guy was saying with inspiration, and
Raven just blinked at that.

   "Seriously?" he thought incredulously. "There are idiots who actually
believe that crap?"

   It appeared to be the case because the woman moaned rather loudly and
said:

   "Dragon...? Oh my God, I *love *dragons...!" here, she threw a quick,
desperate glance at the man who was accompanying her.

   The man seemed definitely older, and Raven knew what he was going to say
even before the woman closed her mouth.

   "Is there any way you could lower the price?" the man said with badly
hidden restraint, and Raven grinned.

   "Buddy," he thought while pretending to be interested in some junk under
the glass display. "You just lost this battle... Next time, just get a
hooker..." He glanced at the woman briefly. "Might be a hell of a lot more
satisfying," he nodded to himself and returned to his display scanning.

   He sighed when he realized that his display-scouting routine wouldn't do
him any good ("...Unicorn blood...? Are you serious...?"), and glanced
around to justify him leaving without even saying `hello' to the owner. Then
he forgot how to breathe.

   "Two hundred talons," the owner said quickly, and Raven blinked at that.

   "What the hell is he selling?" he thought dumbfoundedly, tearing his gaze
away from that perfect painting. "It better be a part of an actual baby
dragon...!"

   The man who lost the battle without even knowing it, sighed deeply, and
stared at the pair of gloves with gloomy desperation. Raven shook his head
and looked at the object that caught his attention. It was a medium-sized
painting in a simple looking frame. He didn't care about the size nor the
frame; it was the painting itself. It depicted a young dark-haired woman who
stood in what seemed to be some sort of a hallway of mirrors. The mirrors
were everywhere -- the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling. She was
wearing a long blue dress with short sleeves, and she was hugging herself as
if she were cold. Her head was turned in such a way that it was impossible
to see her face, not even a reflection of it in countless mirrors.

   Raven couldn't figure out what captured his attention so much, but he
knew one thing -- this was *the *painting. He reached for the price tag and
managed to catch a glimpse of the price right before the plum-looking owner
stepped in front of him, wearing a wide and almost sincere smile.

   "If you are looking for a painting, look no further," he said
enthusiastically. "This is just rubbish," he quickly moved the painting out
of Raven's reach. "Give me a minute to wrap this up..." he demonstrated
`genuine dragon skin' gloves. "...and I will show you a real treasure!"

   "I am not interested in..." Raven started saying, but the man interrupted
him with a quick wave of a pudgy hand.

   "One minute," he nodded and shoved the painting behind the counter.

   Raven sighed, knowing why the guy was reacting this way. The price tag
said, `100.75,' which meant the owner was hoping to sell something much more
expensive to him.

   "Tell you what," the owner jabbered meanwhile to the gloomy to-be-payer
for the gloves. "I like you; you seem like such a nice couple...! How about
I'll take twenty talons off the full price?"

   The man grumbled something unintelligible at that.

   "Oh, heck," the owner sighed deeply. "You are robbing me! Robbing me
right now...! All right, twenty-five talons off... God," he muttered as if
to himself. "If I keep giving stuff away, I am going to go bankrupt..."

   Raven was getting less and less amused with the entire situation by the
second. The owner's manner was starting to annoy him. He folded his arms in
his chest, waiting for the middle-aged guy to pay for those damn gloves and
leave finally, with ecstatic woman in tow.

   "Now," the owner quickly put the money away and all but rubbed his hands
together. "Let me show you a real treasure...!"

   "I don't give a damn about your treasures," Raven said tiredly. "I want
that paining and I..."

   "Just a minute," the pudgy man looked like he didn't even hear a single
word; he turned away and disappeared somewhere behind the old dresser, which
was sitting behind the counter. "Here," he emerged thirty seconds later when
Raven was considering simply taking the damn thing and leaving. "This, right
here, is my crown jewel..."

   He theatrically whirled the canvas he was holding in his hands around,
and Raven stared at the bleak painting of some bizarre-looking building.

   "This, my friend," the owner lowered his voice almost intimately. "...is
the original Ashkazi!"

   Raven blinked at that, looked at the painting for a couple more seconds,
and then started to laugh.

   "If this is an original Ashkazi," he said finally. "Then I am Reagan's
twin brother," he nodded and glanced at the price tag. "Five thousand?" he
snorted. "You'll be lucky if you squeeze five hundred out of this piece of
junk! Now, I want that painting..." he nodded at the canvas behind the
owner's pudgy form. "I want it now, and I don't want to hear anything else
out of you, understood?"

   The owner's smile faltered just a notch. Raven sighed.

   "I want the painting," he said quietly and pulled out his wallet. "Now,"
he nodded and handed the man Julian's credit card.

   The owner looked at the card, read the name, and started blinking
rapidly. Then he looked at Raven, and the brunet sighed again and pulled off
his sunglasses. Apparently, the bizarre color of his eyes was enough to
convince the owner that this was the real deal, because he nodded rather
rapidly without saying anything else, and reached for the painting.

   "There is a typo on the price tag," he muttered, and Raven admired his
ballsiness. "It was supposed to say..."

   "I am willing to give you a hundred and fifty," Raven interrupted him.
"If you don't like that, I will pay a hundred talons and seventy-five
florins. How's that?"

   "Hundred and fifty it is," the owner muttered and quickly ran the card
through the little black machine next to the register.

   Raven waited for him to finish, took the card, and slid it into his
wallet.

   "Would you like me to wrap it or..."

   "No," Raven interrupted him and took the painting, thinking that if the
damn thing were indeed cursed, this would be ironic to say the least. "A
piece of advice..." he paused before walking outside. "If I were you, I
wouldn't try to push that..." he nodded at the painting of the bleak
building. "...as an original Ashkazi... You might have a decent chance of
selling it if you call it an early Pallazzo... Just a thought," he shrugged
and pushed the door of the shop open. "His early stuff was ridiculously
dull."

   He walked outside without waiting for the reply, and he felt almost
lightheaded with satisfaction. He found just the right painting, he thought
while he was walking towards his car. It was bizarre to feel this way
because of some random piece of art -- Julian was right when he said that
Raven didn't give a flying shit about art and whatnot. Yet, here he was,
feeling like he just won a hell of a lottery. He unlocked the back door of
his car, carefully sat the painting onto the back seat, shut the door, and
shrugged to himself. It's a cool and original looking painting, he thought.
Plus, he spent more than five hours hunting for something he would like, no
wonder he feels happy. He slid into the driver's seat and turned the keys in
the ignition. The blond had better like this painting, he thought somewhat
darkly. Because there is no way Raven is taking it down.



****



   He got home in less than half an hour thanks to surprisingly low flow of
traffic, and marched straight into the study, ignoring the cautious look
from the butler. He lowered the painting onto the floor next to the
dark-cherry desk and straightened up. The weird purple circle is going away
for good, he thought with satisfaction while pulling the said atrocity off
the wall. Julian had amazing taste, but this damn circle has been bugging
Raven ever since the first time the blond decided to display this thing in
his study. He carefully sat the heavy frame onto the floor, perfectly aware
of the fact that the damn thing was ridiculously expensive, and that Julian
could sell it easily without even trying too hard.

   He made sure that the painting of a mysterious woman in the equally
mysterious hallway had a proper hook on the back, and then he gently hung it
up, making sure it would stay in place. He took a couple steps back without
taking his eyes off the painting. It looked perfect even in its shabby
looking frame. Raven cocked his head slightly to the right, thinking that he
would need to find a better frame for this thing, and then he realized that
he was thirsty. He sighed and walked out of the study, heading towards the
kitchen.

   He ignored curious looks from the cook and marched towards the fridge.

   "Anything in particular you would like for dinner, master Delamorte?" the
cook asked carefully, and Raven shook his head.

   "Make whatever Julian would like," he grabbed a bottle of water from the
fridge. "I am not hungry." He slammed the fridge door shut and straightened
up. "It's only five-thirty in the evening," he said after throwing a quick
glance at the clock. "He won't be home until later... Just make something
for him, and I will eat it as well, all right?"

   "Yes, master Delamorte," the cook replied mildly, and Raven hemmed.

   Having someone else making food for you was definitely a good thing. If
he would have to worry about things like that, he would be probably tearing
his hair out in frustration. Then again, he reasoned silently. It would make
him less bored, that's for sure. He went back into the study, drinking water
absent-mindedly. Once he got there, he pulled the curtains apart, letting
the sunlight to flood the entire room, and then he perched on the edge of
the desk without looking away from the painting.

   He started studying the details, noting the woman's rigid posture, and
her countless reflections in all those mirrors. He admired the artist's
ability to make this thing to look so realistic; it was almost as if it were
a photograph -- all the small details strikingly precise and correct. Raven
got off the desk and walked closer to the wall, looking closer, curious to
find at least one reflection of woman's face. He didn't find any, but he
noticed a strange blue shadow in one of the mirrors on the farthest right.
He leaned closer, trying to figure out whether it was just a missed spot of
dried paint. It wasn't, he realized with amusement a minute later. It was a
reflection of... Raven frowned and leaned even closer.

   "What is that?" he muttered and sat his water bottle on top of the short
bookcase next to him. "What is that...?"

   He had no idea. It looked like some strange blue semi-circle, and it
looked like it was fading. Raven stared at the painting for a while longer,
studying every single mirror carefully, and noting another shadow in one of
them -- that particular shadow was grey, almost white. He was trying to
figure out what it was when the door to the study opened, and then there was
a familiar purring:

   "I figured you would be here."

   Raven blinked and turned around.

   "What time is it?" he frowned slightly when Julian walked closer.

   "Six-fifteen," the blond answered absent-mindedly, looking at the
painting. "I managed to get off early."

   "Huh," Raven said, thinking that it has been forty-five minutes since he
started studying the painting. "You like it?" He looked at Julian who seemed
rather thoughtful.

   "It's interesting," the blond nodded slowly. "Who is the artist?"

   "No idea," Raven shrugged. "There is no name or anything... I didn't even
care about the artist, to be honest. The minute I saw it, I knew I had to
have it. Such an interesting setting..."

   "It's a mirror labyrinth," Julian said slowly, and Raven shot him a
puzzled look. "It's a trap," Julian explained. "A nasty one for that
matter... I ended up in those things three times; it was a long time ago."

   "Seriously?" Raven asked incredulously. "How?"

   "First time, it was one of my then-rivals," Julian sighed. "I was
seventeen back then. Got stuck there for almost five hours, since I had no
idea what that thing was, let alone how it worked."

   "How did you get out?" Raven leaned on the bookcase.

   "Pure luck," the blond said seriously. "Saw the exit and ran towards it
full speed... Made it there just before it jumped," he nodded.

   "Jumped?" Raven blinked.

   "Yes," Julian looked at the painting again. "That's the thing with mirror
labyrinths. The exit keeps jumping every fifteen minutes; that's what makes
the trap so nasty. There is no pattern to the jumps, and the exit never
appears twice in the same place. When I got out of there, I did a hell of
the research on those things. First exit is the easiest one -- all you have
to do is to go straight. If you walk fast enough, you'll make it there in
ten minutes, give or take... If you miss the first exit, however..."

   "...you are screwed," Raven said with quiet fascination, and Julian
nodded.

   "Pretty much," he agreed mildly. "So when I ended up there for the second
time, I just bolted forward... Was a little tricky because of all the
mirrors, but I got out of there in ten minutes."

   "What about the third time?" Raven sounded genuinely interested.

   "I believe that the third time was a mistake," the blond said slowly.
"The labyrinth wasn't meant for me; it was meant for someone else. I just
happened to be too close to him when he got sucked in, so it took me along."

   "So you got out just fine then?"

   "I did," Julian said calmly.

   "You ditched the guy?" Raven let out short laughter.

   "No," the blond replied seriously. "He chose to stay."

   "Why?" Raven blinked.

   "He was positive that his mate was there somewhere," Julian sighed. "I
didn't argue," he shrugged. "I just left. He got out though..."

   "How do you know?" Raven looked at the painting again.

   "Because he is Claudia's Air Guardian," Julian said and leaned closer to
the painting, looking at something intently.

   Raven stared at him for a few seconds.

   "Really," he muttered slowly without even bothering to make it sound like
a question. "Speaking of Claudia... How in the bloody hell did she get him
back? I mean," he shrugged. "The guy should've been dead by now..."

   "He should have," the blond agreed absent-mindedly. "However, apparently
they passed the Trial, and no, I have no clue what they had to do. Frankly,"
he glanced at Raven. "I don't care... Here," he said suddenly. "See this?"

   Raven leaned closer. Julian was pointing at that strange blue blur that
caught Raven's attention earlier.

   "That's the exit," the blond said slowly. "And judging by the way it
looks, it's about to jump... Right before it jumps, it blinks, and this is
what it's doing..."

   "I guess whoever painted this got stuck in one of those things at least
once," Raven muttered.

   "Yes," Julian agreed. "But it also seems they got out, hence the
painting."

   He straightened up and looked at Raven seriously.

   "Since I am home early," he said solemnly. "How about the weekend starts
tonight? We could sleep it off on Saturday..."

   "Don't you need to make some arrangements first?" Raven asked in a low
voice, feeling that familiar rush, which didn't bother him anymore. It made
him feel high instead.

   "I did," the blond said somewhat smugly. "On the way home."

   "Let's go," Raven said in the same tone of voice, forgetting all about
the painting and mirrors.



****

A  little of shameless self-advertising: you can find all my stories,
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