Melaka Fray's mind was a very calm, non-nightmarish place tonight. Saerian knew that was not always the case. He'd been able to catch glimpses into her mind, both asleep and awake. He'd seen things he knew weren't from this time, or this place. He knew where and when she was from.
Right now, the Slayer's dreams were fuzzy and half-formed. They involved a reliving of events of a few days ago. A boy.
"Spare me," Saerian muttered.
Within the dream, Mel sat at the table in the doughnut shop, with Julian across from her. She turned her head sharply to the man who'd spoken--the man who didn't belong there. Her eyes darkened with anger.