"Don't ever touch me again!" I grabbed the nearest available weapon, a barbecue fork, from the hanging rack on the cupboard door, and brandished it menacingly.

Instantly, the old Cyrus fled. Reformed, mortal Cyrus stood in his place, his hands up in a protective stance. "Carrie, I was only teasing."

"It's not just teasing. You invaded my mind, you put perverse thoughts in it—"

"I put perverse thoughts in it?" He shook his head. "No. I was the one woken this morning by your lewd fantasies."

Oh. No. "That's crazy. There is no way I would ever—"

He nodded patiently. "And do you think I would ever? Have I ever wanted to share you with him? Have I ever tolerated the thought of his hands on you? Do you think I would do it now?" Smiling a little cruelly, he wagged a finger at me in admonition. "I may be a bit twisted, but I can't be blamed for what's lurking in your head. You were the tormentor with that dream, not me."

Legs shaking, I stumbled to the kitchen table. Cyrus pulled out a chair for me and I sat, careful not to brush against him as I did so. "That's impossible. I would never… do those things."

"I know that's not true. You did some of it with me." I heard his intake of breath and he apologized hastily. "I'm sorry, I had no right—"

"You know what I meant," I interrupted, not wanting to dwell on the past, specifically the sordid things I'd done with him. "I would never ask Nathan to… I would just never."

Cyrus poured me a mug of blood and sat opposite me, looking genuinely sympathetic. "You don't need to explain. It's your subconscious doing this to you."

"I subconsciously want a three-way with you and Nathan?"

He rolled his eyes. "Listen, if you don't want my help, say so. But don't go on like this, angry with me for being in your dream. Against my will, I might add."

I sighed and dropped my head to the table. "Sorry. Stay."

He touched my hair hesitantly, cupping the back of my skull with his palm and flexing his fingers in a friendly, comforting motion. "Don't despair. I'm sure it's difficult, being blood tied to two men you've had relationships with."

I sat up, smoothing my hair back. "No matter how sick those relationships were."

"I'd drink to that, if I had anything to drink." He smiled as I slid my mug toward him. "Good to see you're not above sharing breakfast with me."

"What can I say? I've got a weak spot when it comes to you." I thought of Nathan in the shop, and worried he might have seen the dream, too.

Not to worry, Dotair, I tuned it out. His thoughts were uncomfortable, but not unkind. He apparently understood I had no control over my dreams, so why couldn't I get it?