Company of Angels 02 - The Demoness of Waking Dreams

impossibilities, experiences and oddities all mixed in together.
    But he had not dreamed of her in the past year, either.
    He closed his eyes.
    She came sliding into his unconscious—though not sharply, not vividly as she had done in the past. The image of her appeared, hazy and mystical, like a mirage flickering in the distance. As he approached her, she was only a phantom of a woman, the shivery touch of a hand and a glimpse of curved, ripe lips half-hidden behind a fall of dark hair.
    She lingered for only an instant. But he felt her love radiating toward him, around him, into him. Heard her voice, faint but so ardent that he did not for an instant doubt the sincerity of the words she whispered.
    Ti amo.
    Even as she drifted into ether, he felt this vision of her more strongly than anything he had experienced while awake in the past year without her.
    But every dream must end. And every dreamer must awaken.
    He awoke clinging to the memory of her, reaching for the feel of her. With the knowledge that, just as the dragon dragged up from the depths of the Venetian lagoon had no place in the everyday world, Luciana did not truly belong by his side.
    And yet, he knew he would never stop looking.
    I will cross centuries and traverse continents to find you. I will scale mountain ranges and swim oceans to be with you. I will wait. Until the end of time if I must.
    He stood at the window from which she had once leaped with her dark, wild hair streaming in the moonlight. He looked up into the night as fireworks exploded over her beloved Venice. Brilliant colors rained down over him, directly overhead. Tinny speakers broadcast rich arias from the neighboring balconies and rooftops. One emerald flare shot high into the sky to fracture into a million glittering fireflies.
    I will slay dragons to be with you, he promised silently. I will find a way.
    Until then, he would listen for the whisper of her honeyed voice in his dreams.
    * * * * *
     

Acknowledgments
     
    Thanks once again to my own set of earthly guardians:
    Valerie Gray, executive editor at Harlequin MIRA. This novel exists because of your persistence and creative guidance. The book’s dedication is a reference to T. S. Eliot’s dedication of The Wasteland, “For Ezra Pound: il miglior fabbro ” (“the better craftsman”). My gratitude goes out to la miglior fabbra, the better craftswoman, for helping me and many others write stories that would otherwise only exist in our dreams.
    The team at MIRA. To the art department, bravo! Another gorgeous cover—your work inspires me. To editorial assistant Michelle Venditti and the Sales, Marketing and PR Departments, thanks for your hard work and dedication to entertaining, enriching and inspiring.
    Kimberly Whalen. Agent favolosa at Trident Media Group, your advice is invaluable.
    Patricia, Garyen, Johanna. Parents and sister, thank you for your encouragement and support. Thanks especially to my mom for my first, wonderful trip to Venice. And for passing on your creative spark.
    Friends, teachers, fellow writers. For your generosity of spirit and the lessons you’ve taught me, I’m truly grateful. Grazie mille to Linda Hutcheon for your unflagging belief in me, and for sharing your love of opera (and SO much more) with so many of your students.
    Readers and bloggers. You have my most sincere appreciation, especially those who have reached out with kind words to welcome me into the romance community.
    Dexter the pug. Thank you for bringing us so much love with your big pug smile.
    * * *
     
    My husband, Ed. Last of all, but first in my heart, thank you to my real-life Guardian. I’m constantly humbled by your commitment to excellence and your contributions to humanity. Every moment with you is truly a gift.

 
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ISBN: 9781459237803
    Copyright © 2012 by Stephanie Chong

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