Elijah Neri was an unassuming man who was often overlooked and frequently forgotten. He didn’t mind. In fact, he considered his near invisibility an asset. Like many people with unusual skills and powers, Elijah preferred to be unobtrusive, and to keep his abilities a secret.

He lived an unassuming life, and his neat one-bedroom apartment was a testament to that. It was located in a stately old building on a wide avenue in a slightly shabby, older neighborhood of South Minneapolis. He had neighbors of all types: hardworking immigrants from every corner of the globe, eccentric artists, low-level clerical employees, students, the retired who worked part time to help make ends meet. Elijah found his niche among them and drew no undue attention as he went about his ordinary, everyday existence.

His life at work was more of the same. Every day, Elijah dressed in a neat black suit with a crisp white shirt and an understated tie, boarded the bus from his stop two blocks away, and showed up at precisely 7:45 a.m. to man the concierge desk at the grand old Mill City Hotel near the river in downtown Minneapolis. He smiled and bade a cheery good morning to the elderly doorman decked out in his ornate frock coat and top hat, exchanged hellos with loitering bellboys, and gave unassuming smiles to the pair of middle-aged women in matching vests who worked the front desk. Then, he let himself through a swinging panel into his green marble-walled work area in a corner and settled at an antique oak desk. Elijah’s workspace was as tidy as he was, and just as welcoming.

Throughout his workday, Elijah smilingly assisted hotel guests in procuring everything from concert tickets to escort services. He was the soul of discretion. His coworkers sometimes complained of his tight-lipped tendencies, as he refused to share any gossip with them if it would betray a guest’s confidence. Elijah shrugged them off and went about his business. With the knowledge that he was good at keeping secrets, his coworkers began to seek him out, rather than give him the cold shoulder, and he soon found himself custodian of all manner of intrigues.

He often smiled to himself when he thought about it because Elijah Neri shared his own secrets with no one.

It had been a quiet day midweek at the Mill City Hotel when a racket in the lobby caused Elijah to raise his eyes from his computer screen. He watched as a team of bellboys held the hotel’s heavy brass doors wide for a well-dressed couple as they alighted from a long, black limousine. He hid his natural distaste when a loud, overbearing bull of a man charged into the lobby with a shapely, beautiful woman in his wake. Elijah strove to keep his gaze casual while his eyes lazily appraised her from head to toe.

He lingered a moment too long and she caught his gaze while her husband gruffly made crude remarks to the grimacing clerk behind the front desk as he signed in. Her eyes widened for just a moment, but when she peered more carefully at Elijah, his expression was again polite to the point of bland. Most would have demurely shrugged it off as imagination, but this woman stared back at him for a long time. It was difficult not to smirk as he kept his gaze fixed on the slim sheaf of papers in his hands. He reached down to straighten the bronze “concierge” plaque on his desk only when her husband turned back in his direction.

The woman touched the man on the sleeve of his expensive yet poorly worn suit, and Elijah frowned slightly when the man flicked her hand away.

“I told you not to hang on me,” he snarled, giving his arm a dramatic jerk.

“I said I’m sorry. They said they had a reservation—”

He cut her off by snapping a hand up almost in her face. “I don’t want to hear any more excuses. We’re here now, and I’d like to forget about your latest screw-up.” He jabbed at the button to call an elevator. “I’m taking a nap when we get upstairs and I don’t want you bothering me.”

“Then I’ll go shopping.”

“Make sure you get our theater tickets. If you can manage not to fuck that up.”

Elijah caught the woman’s gaze one last time before the elevator doors closed on her, and he liked what he saw there. She was not cowed by her blustering husband, but seemed more resigned to his foul mood instead. She was also neither bored nor desperate, but rather an intriguing combination of the two that was just what he had hoped to find.

Elijah busied his hands with a few loose paperclips and straightened his Post-It notepads, arranging them by size. A casual observer would simply think him obsessively neat, but Elijah was killing time. In minutes, the woman should return to the lobby and need theater tickets, and it was his job to assist her. Long months of practice kept him from betraying a single flicker of anticipation.

However slowly he may have done so, he still found an excuse to look up every time an elevator arrived at the lobby. It felt as if a week had passed by the time the woman returned without her husband. A quick glance at his watch told him only twenty minutes had gone by.

He forced himself to concentrate on the tasks at hand when she approached the front desk, but gave up the ruse when the desk clerk sent her in his direction with a small hand gesture. He felt her gaze upon him then, but forced himself to continue ignoring her until she let herself into his work area.

“Hello.” Her voice was like warm brandy pouring over him. “You’re the concierge?”

“Elijah Neri, at your service,” he returned with a coolly professional smile. He kept evidence of his appreciation for her out of his gaze, but took note of her soft curves and perfect skin. “What can I do for you, Miss…?”

“Katrina Melville. I need to get some tickets for Glass Houses,” she said. When her eyes met his, there was no trace of what he had seen in them earlier. His gaze also gave nothing away.

“Of course, Ms. Melville,” was his reply, as he reached down to open a drawer in his desk. He withdrew a pair of tickets from a folder but paused before he handed them over. “With the hotel discount, they’re fifty-seven dollars apiece. Should I charge them to your room?”

“Yes, I’m in 1427.” She gave him a polite smile as she took the proffered tickets.

Elijah’s smile was equally polite, but he felt a flash of heat as he handed them over and filed her room number away in his mind. He could have obtained the information from the front desk, but preferred to bypass such a step, just in case. It was more discreet when his quarry freely provided what he sought.

The woman’s eyes darkened for just a moment before she turned away, and because he was attuned to it, he felt her assessment of him. A tingling heat assailed his skin in the wake of her gaze, but again, long practice kept him from betraying a thing. His expression was as bland as ever as the woman departed the hotel, but Elijah decided it was time for a break. He turned off the lamp on his desk, then went outside for a stroll so he could clear his head.

Once back at work, he put her out of his mind and concentrated on simply doing his job, and she returned from her outing a few hours later without sparing him a glance. He knew he was already forgotten, and not likely to bump into her or her husband again that day, which suited him well. As he ended his workday and locked up his desk drawers, one of the bellboys and a bartender who worked the early shift approached.

“Hey, Eli!” Randy, the bartender, called out. “We’re going out for a couple before we head home. Want to join us?”

His mind on other matters, Elijah was tempted to decline. Randy and his bellboy friend Keith were a couple of decent guys, though, and he didn’t want to draw undue attention to himself by refusing to socialize. Besides, having a couple of drinks would serve to loosen his mind, and aid him in his plans for later.

Elija’s expansive smile included both Randy and Keith. “Sounds great. Who’s buying the first round?”

He enjoyed the unassuming company of his coworkers for a few hours in one of downtown Minneapolis’more understated pubs. The drinks were reasonable, and the crowd laid-back. Both Randy and Keith were on the prowl, and loudly discussed the attributes of every woman who crossed their line of vision.

To Elijah’s consternation, Keith took note of his lack of participation in their testosterone-driven assessment of a young blonde in a miniskirt at the bar. The bellboy narrowed his eyes as he sipped the foam off a mug of beer and shook his head slightly. “What’s the matter, Eli? Don’t you like girls?”

Elijah scowled. “Screw you, Keith. She’s not my type.”

Keith and Randy both laughed. “What…female?” Keith kept at him.

The look Elijah gave him froze the smile on his face. “No,” he corrected. “Cheap.”

Keith covered his discomfort by taking another glug of beer, and Elijah quickly picked another woman out of the crowd. She was obviously a professional, and wore an expensive, severely-cut black suit with high spike heels. A sleek black leather bag hung over one arm and she clutched a martini in a well-manicured hand.

“Now she’s my type,” Elijah said with a nod in her direction.

Randy raised a brow. “She looks bossy.”

“Kinda like a dominatrix,” Keith added, and the uncomfortable moment passed as they shared a very male chuckle.

Elijah no longer felt like hanging out with the guys from work, but realized he would have to stick it out for a while longer if he didn’t want his behavior to cause comment. He preferred to avoid providing fodder for the gossipy hotel staff and now wished he had refused that night’s invitation. He smiled uncomfortably through several more beers, cracked a few jokes in appropriate places, and finally managed to extricate himself from his coworkers around ten o’clock.

Once away from the crowded bar, he gulped in the cool night air that washed over him. He enjoyed the cadence of his footfalls on the sidewalk as he made his way to the bus stop, the regularity of their rhythm serving to calm his soul. He gratefully took a seat by himself on the ride home, and carefully thought about nothing all the way there. By the time he let himself into his apartment, he was almost in the proper frame of mind for the rest of his evening.

Elijah got out of his black suit and hung it neatly on a hanger. His white shirt and boxer shorts were tossed in a laundry hamper. He slipped into a pair of loose pajama pants and assessed his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he brushed his teeth.

Elijah Neri was not a big, beefy man, but his tidy black suits hid a well-honed form. He liked to run to stay in shape and hoisted weights on a regular basis, so his muscles were defined. His shoulders were broad, his waist and hips narrow, and in nothing but the loose pants he effected a rather sensual appearance. He winked once at his reflection, let out a self-deprecating laugh, and snapped off the bathroom light.

Most evenings, he liked to watch a little television before bed, but on a night such as this, he preferred to be alone with his thoughts in the quiet. He lay in his darkened bedroom, gazing out the window at the street below while allowing his mind to wander. In a kind of reverse meditation, he opened himself to a flood of images and sensations. He thought about anything that came to mind: scenes from his workday, a homeless man who asked him for spare change, the woman in the severe black suit, the way Keith snorted when he laughed, and last, the intriguing woman with the overbearing husband who was right now sleeping beside her in Room 1427.

Elijah’s eyes closed and his lips curved into a smile as he let himself go and descended into sleep. There was a pleasant nothingness for a long moment, and then his bedroom faded into focus. He felt the rhythm of his own breathing like an outside force as he ever-so-carefully detached his consciousness from his body and rose like a wraith above his bed. He gazed down at his own sleeping form for several minutes while he gathered his thoughts and his power.

Elijah had learned to separate his mind from his body in sleep a long time ago. It had happened almost by accident the first time, and scared him so much he almost didn’t dare try it again. He feared he would never come back, never return to the world of the alive and wakeful. Weeks later, though, when he found himself entering his unique dream state again, he was in possession of a more daring frame of mind. By then, he had done a little research on multiple dimensions and dreams. The experts were unable to provide any answers, so he decided he would find them on his own. He had come back into his body once, after all, so there was no reason to think he could not do so again.

His first forays into the dream world were tentative and short. Fear of the unknown kept him from stepping too far out of bounds. With practice, however, Elijah became more and more bold, and it wasn’t long before he began to explore his powers and the world around him. By now, he was quite comfortable with his unique abilities, and had begun to test his limits.

Elijah was polite and well-mannered in his everyday life, and not particularly daring. He was orderly, kept within his bounds, and created no waves. It was rare for a woman to take note of him as a man, particularly since the women he came across in his work considered themselves to be in a class above him. They gazed at him with the same disinterest with which they looked at the potted plants in the lobby. Once, this had annoyed him. Now, however, it suffused him with power.

Elijah Neri was a very different man in his dreams.

He had first explored the idea of invading the subconscious of another after reading a rather dry, stilted article on the subject in a boring scientific publication. The magazine itself was largely uninspiring, but the article managed to spark a tiny idea within Elijah’s mind. The idea bloomed a few days later when he stumbled across the beautiful girlfriend of a rich hotel guest crying in a secluded alcove. Elijah’s first instinct had been to turn away, but he found himself approaching her instead and handing her tissues to dry her eyes. They only spoke for a moment, and she found cause to avoid him afterwards, but something in her eyes got to him.

She didn’t need to tell him her story because he already knew it well. He had seen many women like her come in and out of the Mill City Hotel; beautiful, well-dressed, and largely ignored by the men with whom they traveled. Elijah did not pity them, knowing they chose their lifestyle, trading boredom for baubles, but he also did not hold them in contempt. They were simply who they were, just as he was who he was. They all had weaknesses, along with desires and needs that were not being met, just as Elijah did.

At first, he had considered that perhaps his experiences were confined to his own mind and did not actually involve anyone else. That idea was dispelled as soon as he enjoyed a nocturnal liaison with one woman who had come into the hotel looking frustrated and unhappy, but who left the following morning wearing a rather satisfied glow—even though her husband had spent the night in another woman’s bed.

He would never forget his first shared dream encounter, though the woman involved was unaware she had experienced anything more than an ordinary dream. He had worried about that at first, until he saw her again and she looked right through him. Over time, he realized that his companions did not recognize him when he came to them in their sleep, and if they did, they would simply shrug it off later as coincidence.

Elijah’s dream lovers had little occasion to look at his face, in any event. Even so, he was careful to keep to the shadows, and worked to focus their attention on other sensations. One thing his chosen companions all had in common was that they were ignored by the men in their lives, and every last one of them responded enthusiastically to him. In their sleep, they did not care who he was, only that he could satisfy them.

So satisfy them he did. There had been a time, in the beginning, when he had been less discriminate than now, but he had since brought himself to heel. He understood that he could never divulge his secret; no one could possibly understand. If he wanted to enjoy the freedom that came with it, he would need to be cautious, and selective.

Katrina Melville in 1427 was the first woman Elijah had visited this way in three months. He had been tempted a couple of other times, but always found reasons to back away. From the moment he had met Ms. Melville’s eyes, however, Elijah had known that he would visit her that night. It was instinct more than experience that told him this encounter would not be like all the others.

Before, he had slipped into bed beside his lovers and begun slowly making them aware of his presence through a series of soft caresses and whispers. As he slid between the sheets beside Katrina, he felt somehow that she had been waiting for him. When his palm reached out to caress her hip, her hand drifted up to meet it, and to direct his fingers where she wanted them to go. A thrill ripped through him as his eyes widened, and met hers.

Recognition burned there, along with desire, and Elijah felt a connection he had never experienced with any woman, awake or sleeping, before. Usually, he was in control, guiding his lovers through the pleasurable odyssey at his own pace, whether leisurely or urgent. This time, the tables had turned and he found himself at Katrina’s tender mercy. A rush of excitement and fear of the unknown coursed through his veins as he gave himself over to her. Afterwards, his eyelids felt heavy, and he felt himself drifting away while she trailed her fingertips over his belly.

He awoke the following morning in his own bed, feeling disoriented. He lay still for several moments with his eyes closed, grasping at memories. His body felt heavy and sated, but a knot of fear twisted in his belly as he rose and prepared for work that day.

He wore somewhat of a scowl as he entered the Mill City Hotel, and strove to smooth it when he caught odd looks from a couple of the employees. He jumped every time a telephone rang, and felt ready to burst out of his skin by the time the hotel manager put in an appearance. He realized he was holding his breath as the man approached his desk.

“Good morning, Elijah,” the manager said with a friendly smile. “How is everything?”

“Just great, thank you,” Elijah answered, hoping his voice sounded even.

“Wonderful. There’s a new play opening at the St. James in a few weeks. I’d like you to check into some ticket packages with them and get me some numbers before my two o’clock meeting.”

“No problem.” Elijah smiled nervously up at his boss, and the man gave him a bland smile in return and walked away, completely unaware of the way the concierge’s heart hammered against his ribs.

Elijah’s pulse had not yet returned to normal when he got his second shock of the morning just minutes later as the Melvilles alighted from an elevator. Mr. Melville appeared as cantankerous as ever, while Mrs. Melville seemed collected and cool. She had a hand draped over her husband’s left arm but slipped it away as they stepped out into the lobby and her husband stared over in Elijah’s direction.

Elijah swallowed and prepared to meet the man’s eyes, but as usual, the affluent hotel guest looked right through him and turned away.

“I should be back from my meetings by four o’clock,” he bellowed at his wife. “Have my tux ready for me. We’re supposed to be at that stupid banquet by seven.”

Mrs. Melville balked and crossed her arms over her abdomen. “I don’t want to go to the banquet.” Her husband glared at her, and she shrugged. “You don’t need me there. You’ll just ignore me and talk business all night.”

Mr. Melville paused to consider it, and gave a curt nod. “I don’t want you going anywhere. We have to leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she purred. Elijah’s heart flipped when her eyes met his and stayed there, recognition and shared memory blazing from their depths. She licked her lips once and smiled. “There’s nowhere I want to go. I’ll just go to bed early. Maybe I’ll even have another nice dream.”