by L. L. Frost
“Thank you.” Quickly, I step closer to him, rub myself against his front, then ruffle his hair. His eyes narrow in annoyance, and I blow a gentle puff of warm air into his face. “Just for good measure.”
Then, I slip between them and step through the threshold. As I near, the circle of my cousins opens, hands reaching out to draw me into their group. The skin to skin of my own kind comforts me in a way I didn’t know possible, a gentle hum of shared energies that flow from one of us to the next. Age and strength become meaningless as we bask in each other’s presence.
The room fades around the edges, a gentle sweep of gray fog that murmurs of dreamland and home.
Against the wall where Emil and Tobias stand to watch, they flicker in and out, bright volcanoes and killing frost, then back to normal, contained within their corporeal forms. Beautiful death, mother nature in all her destructive glory, then cloaked from view once more.
Bright butterflies flit through our group then dissipate into nothingness. Landon, ghosting in and out of dreamland. Others do the same. A quiet rush of seawater, the smoke of burning flowers, the gentle waft of vanilla bean.
They act as a salve on the cracks and splinters inside my body, filling in the injuries caused by facing near death twice and surviving. Now, they furrow new, natural pathways into my mind, and I see the string that ties me to my corporeal form, the thread Landon cut, and the tattered edges of a second string, sundered when I left dreamland too early.
Energy in my stomach spindles out to brush along it, to give it strength to heal. Understanding flits on the edge of my conscious, almost within reach.
The front door crashes against the wall, and the music cuts off. As one, we turn to the new arrival.
Cousin Cassandra strides around the entryway wall, her long hair flame red at the tips. It matches her crimson dress, and the red talons she sinks into Julian’s shoulder. He sags within her grasp, a pale gray husk of dried hair and skin.
A cruel smile twists her luscious lips. “Baby Adeline, come get your housewarming gift!”
Adie’s (mis)adventures continue in March 2018 with:
The Breach (The Conclusion to Succubus Studies)
L.L. Frost lives in the Pacific Northwest and graduated from college with a Bachelor’s in English. She is an avid reader of all things paranormal and can frequently be caught curled up in her favorite chair with a nice cup of coffee, a blanket, and her Kindle.
When not reading or writing, she can be found trying to lure the affection of her grumpy cat, who is very good at being just out of reach for snuggle time.
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