Dream Walker: Blood Legacy Series Book 1

by Elise Hennessy

His dream face had been so crisp, so perfect. It’d mimicked what she’d seen of him yesterday. But this version of him had the shadow of an unshaved beard and frown lines. His face wasn’t perfectly symmetrical, like any normal person.

  “You look different,” she said before she could think better of it.

  He raised a brow. “What do you mean, love?”

  A mortified blush rose to her cheeks. She couldn’t believe she’d uttered that thought aloud. “Do, uh, vampires have some magic? For their appearance?”

  “Yes, actually. We call it a glamor,” he said, offering a casual shrug as liquid as the prowl of a big cat. “The older a vampire is, the more attractive they are until it’s nearly impossible to look at them. It’s part of the mental abilities we gain as we age. You may have noticed there’s no unattractive vampire.”

  “Pretty quickly,” she said dryly.

  “Underneath the glamor, most of us are normal people. In addition to this, there’s also the aura, which tells you exactly how old a vampire is. Someone will need to teach you to keep yours under wraps when it develops fully. It’s rude to run around broadcasting how old you are.” He offered a lopsided smile. It was more charming than any perfect smile he’d flashed before, she thought.

  “How does that work?” she asked curiously.

  “So glad you asked! I’m going to unleash mine on you briefly,” he said, a tone of warning there. She realized why a few moments later as every hair on her body stood on end. Heat and mild pain prickled at her skin, like a second burn overtop the first she was still raw from. “Not fun, right? The older a vampire gets, the less pleasant it is to be close to them.”

  “Could you, maybe, turn that off?” she asked, rubbing her arms, which felt hot to the touch. He inclined his head, the heat of his aura retreating until she could relax again.

  “The only vampire I’ve met with a different aura is my friend, Julian. His is bitter cold. Maybe he’ll show you sometime.”

  “Is your glamor up right now?” she asked, nodding to that. She figured he had a lot of friends she could meet, but it really depended on how long she was staying here.

  “Yes, always.”

  “Oh, all right.” It felt lame to leave it off at that, and she recognized the curious look that earned.

  “Why do you ask? Is it not working?”

  “I’m not sure.” She could feel the heat return to her cheeks. “You’re not, like, flawless right now. You look like a normal person.”

  “You see me as a normal person?” He frowned thoughtfully. “That should only be possible if you’re an older vamp than me.”

  “Yes. I don’t know,” she said, feeling like she was about to put her foot in her mouth. Especially as he slanted her a sly look.

  “Like what you see?”

  “Uh, sure. You have a nice smile. A little off center. It’s charming,” she babbled.

  He flashed a wink, kicking up her pulse. “So you can see what I look like. It can be our secret.” His soft voice twisted up her insides effortlessly as he leaned in. For a moment, she thought he’d steal a kiss, but he took her plate instead and stood, putting some distance between them.

  Her heart calmed after a deep breath, and she gave herself a little shake. Stop imagining things, she told herself.

  “Petra said she’s getting you some clothes and possibly giving you a full makeover,” he said, crossing to the sink and running water over the plate. His movements were stilted.

  “That’s right,” she said with a nod.

  “I imagine she’ll sort all of that out with you by daybreak,” he said. “Nicholas…you’ll meet him later. He says I have a visitor.”

  “Yeah?” She didn’t see a phone on him. It seemed he came up with this out of nowhere.

  “Yeah. She’s a dangerous vampiress. I need you to go back to your room for now. We have Netflix,” he said, flicking water from his fingertips.

  She raised a suspicious brow, feeling like he was suddenly trying to ditch her. “Sure. I can babysit myself.”

  “What’s that tone for?” He sounded distracted, checking his pockets.

  “Oh, I dunno, just you getting word of a visitor out of nowhere.”

  He paused, glancing up to meet her eye. “Another vampire perk. Mental communication.” His voice was in her head, his lips unmoving.

  “How did you…?”

  “Later.” He made an impatient gesture. “I know this is strange, but I need you to hide out in your room for now. I don’t want my visitor to know I have a new fledgling around.”

  “Just vampire things, huh?” she asked with a nervous chuckle. She parted ways with him, going back to her room. His quick dismissal didn’t bother her as much as it appeared.

  It was just the mental communication part. How similar his voice in her head felt compared to the woman’s voice from her dreams. The one who had, supposedly, made Violet strong.

  Chapter 14

  Alex

  ALEX RUSHED TO his office where Cossette Deveaux would be waiting for him. His mansion’s location was hardly a secret; however, vampire society was based on a hierarchy of rules. Coven members could come and go from his home as they pleased, but it was different for members of rival covens. They were trespassing on his territory.

  Vampires were heavily territorial creatures despite their mostly human appearance. So, when his head of security said Cossette had arrived and demanded to speak to him, he was on high alert.

  She was an exception to the rules, a girl who could go where she pleased. Cossette sat in his office chair, which gave him pause for a moment before he realized his computer was locked and on a screensaver. The girl smiled like she was about to share some giddy secret. “Hi, Mister Rehnquist. I’m glad you’re back,” she said, giggling sweetly. She spoke in French, her mother tongue.

  Cossette was no normal girl. She was the Ancient who lived in New York, a neighbor to Coven Rehnquist with a mega-sized following she’d acquired over the years. One of the eldest and strongest of their kind. Despite that, she had the body of an eight-year-old girl, with an albino’s pale skin and pinkish-red eyes. She kept her white hair tied back in pigtails, her ribbons a sky blue today to match the ruffled dress she wore.

  “I’m glad I’m back too. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he answered in French.

  “I missed you! You weren’t around when the island rose from the sea. I’ve so been wanting to talk to someone about it,” she said, crossing her arms.

  He masked a sigh of relief as a cough, seating himself in one of the chairs he saved for visitors. Her visits were like a box of chocolates, usually pleasant, but he always steeled himself for that one gooey chocolate that made a mess. “To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought.”

  “That just won’t do. I’ve seen you there.” She spoke with solemn surety, a sober reminder of the Ancient power pulsing within her fragile frame.

  He frowned. “You have? When?”

  “Oh, a couple of days ago when you were in mortal danger with your new friend,” she said, switching to cheerful and giggly in a blink.

  It took him a moment to realize his mistake. He had meant when would he visit the new island, but she’d answered him far more literally with when this vision of the future had struck her. “Watched the news lately, have you?”

  “Oh no, I saw the whole thing,” she said, still smiling.

  He raised a brow. “Did you see what happened to Violet?” So much for keeping her a secret from the Ancient’s attention, which meant she would speak of it to others. But if she could shed some light on her abnormal transformation, it would be worth it.

  Cossette smiled wider. “I can’t say.”

  “All right. I’ll bargain for it.” Now he did sigh aloud. “What are your terms?”

  “I mean, there’s something else you were going to bargain for. It might’ve been even more important than this.” The keen side of her was back, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

  “I’m n
ot sure anymore.” He threw up a hand. It was likely she wouldn’t answer either of his desires directly. “But you’re right. I was going to ask for an exception to the Accords.”

  One of the benefits, and drawbacks, to an Ancient neighbor was the power her coven wielded over its neighbors, the eleven covens that’d cut out and parceled the city’s territory. There was a twelfth—Haven—which operated in the shadows and underground but kept an appropriate deference to Cossette. Following her master’s example, she’d created the Deveaux Accords and destroyed, drove off, or assimilated any covens not willing to follow her edicts.

  It was easy to look at a little girl and think she didn’t mean business, but she did. Every time. He’d seen it happen enough that he spoke to the nine-hundred-year-old for permission every time his coven approached a scuffle with the Accords. “Are you sure what you’re planning is wise?” Cossette asked now, any hint of childish mirth gone from her face.

  “No. But I need revenge. If not for my sake, for Violet. Collins is going to hide his wife’s sorry self in his headquarters or tower, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.” He clenched his fist, checking a slam on his chair arm that would’ve destroyed the thin wood.

  “If I allow you to attack his most vulnerable people, he in turn would have permission to attack your mansion and business. And it sets a precedent that I allow all-out war and possible exposure to mortals. You know I allow safe zones for every coven so we can co-exist without murdering mortal employees or innocent vampire children.” She spread her hands in a helpless gesture.

  “If Collins and Cox never leave their safe zones, it’s a manipulation of the spirit of your rules.” He shook his head, clutching at his temples.

  “Yet they have agreed to the rules as well. You sleep peacefully in your mansion. You can keep your friend here knowing they’ll never be able to steal her away and torture her again as long as she doesn’t step foot outside the fence.”

  “So you know about the torture. You know what happened to her,” he said, seeing his request as a lost cause. His enemies would continue to hide in their strongholds, hardly venturing out unless there was little chance for reprisal.

  He seethed with the need to put an end to both of them, Collins for his constant harassment and Cox for her blatant sadism, but if he acted against the Accords, Cossette’s coven would fall upon his own and destroy it like it’d done with countless others.

  Nothing changed. Both sides hid like turtles, plotting.

  He figured it could be worse. He could live in Massachusetts again, where there were no Accords or protections from a huge coven like Cossette’s. His home could go up in flames on the regular, his coven left to ashes.

  If they’d settled in New York, maybe his lifemate would still be alive.

  “I know what happened to her.” For a moment, he thought she was talking about Mary Ann. A bit of dream walking and the scab over that old wound was off.

  But no, she was talking about Violet, clearly the person he’d asked about. He gave himself a mental shake. “You’ll appreciate your restraint soon enough. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday, you can proudly say you’ve never broken the Accords.”

  Cossette hopped to her feet, flashing him a smile. “You’ll also figure out everything about Violet. All the best mysteries come together in pieces. I’ll see you later, Mister Rehnquist.”

  He saw her out without another word, returning to his desk to sit heavily in the chair she’d vacated. To distract himself, he typed out every word of their conversation. Sometimes she dropped hints, even when it seemed she left him emptyhanded.

  It was a good distraction, keeping his mind on the right track. He narrowed in on one phrase in particular. “You’ll appreciate your restraint,” he said aloud.

  He could think of several reasons why. He’d appreciate having his men rested and ready for another threat. Or maybe he’d like not losing his coven, the men and women he’d worked so hard to support and knit together as a community.

  His last thought was that maybe he wouldn’t want to set a precedent for another group to come in and attack him. An unknown threat loomed on the horizon, as mysterious as the rising of the island mortals were calling Atlantis or the silver in Violet’s blood.

  Don’t overanalyze, he told himself, pushing away from those words and the unease they brought with them.

  Chapter 15

  Violet

  PETRA RETURNED WHILE she was mid-episode of a binge watch, bringing her out of the drama on screen to her reality. Violet appreciated the woman who went shopping for her. It was necessary to change her appearance and lie low for a while, but she still resented Haven for putting her in this position.

  As she let the other vampiress into her room, laden with bags from boutiques open late, she decided to shake off those memories and enjoy the moment. Girls love makeovers, she told herself, helping Petra find places to leave the bags.

  “I brought you everything you’ll need,” Petra said with a smile and a wink as if they shared the same joke.

  She wasn’t kidding either. Violet felt uneasy in a different sense as she pushed the tissue paper aside in one bag and came up with a lacy bra. “This is too much. What do I owe you for all of this?” She checked other bags, seeing the essentials were covered and so much more. For someone who went through life wearing baggy shirts and jeans, she saw many items she wouldn’t buy for herself.

  “Nothing.” Petra caught her hands when she moved to protest. “Not. One. Thing. You’re in my coven now, and I provide for you. No strings attached.”

  “But—”

  “No buts! Try this on.” She pushed a couple items toward Violet. “I bought nice things for you. Show me they fit.”

  She ended up showing several outfits, all fitting perfectly to her frame. “This one,” Petra said, nodding in approval of her in a summer ensemble of khaki pants and a sky-blue blouse with a ruffled collar that opened in a vee slightly lower than Violet was used to. “You’ll wear this after we’re done.”

  Lined up on the sink were several different bottles of store-brand hair dye and costume contacts. Petra let her choose, and they worked together to give her a new style so she wasn’t obviously the Violet Reynolds broadcasted as a murderer for the world to see. She was glad to move on from that, wanting to forget it’d ever happened.

  She was in the midst of learning how to apply contacts when there was a knock at the door. “I’ll get it. Keep trying,” Petra urged, bustling away.

  Violet cringed as she observed the wet plastic disc on her fingertip. The worst time in applying them was apparently the first time, and she hadn’t successfully placed one on her eye yet. She gladly placed the contact back into its solution when she heard Petra cry out.

  “What are you doing? We don’t have pets here,” Petra exclaimed. An unfamiliar man stood at the threshold, hardly looking chastened as he tried to step past her. In his arms was a comfortably plump orange tabby.

  “Gus!” Violet exclaimed, rushing forward to take her cat and snuggle him close. She blamed her teary eyes on the contacts as she turned a grateful look up at the person who’d brought him. Another vampire, but clearly a friend if he went to get her cat.

  He actually seemed familiar on second glance. Ruddy-skinned, with a long, serious face and pin-straight black hair held back in a leather strap. He was clearly Native American, the first she’d ever met in person.

  But how did she know him? He wore all black, lion symbols stitched at the shoulders. And his gaze was unmistakable, amber and keen like a wolf’s. With eyes like that, she imagined he had to be a shapeshifter.

  “Thank you, sir,” she said. “I didn’t expect to see him again, and so soon!”

  “It was no bother.” He offered the hint of a smile. “He was being fostered, so I adopted him out.” Completely legal, she thought, watching him put down a few bags laden with supplies to care for him.

  “Are we really keeping this animal here?” Petra muttered to him.


  He offered a shrug. “Alex is fine with it.”

  “Gus isn’t just an animal. He’s my fur baby,” Violet cooed, bouncing him gently until he started to squirm and meow in complaint.

  “You’re getting fur on your new clothes,” Petra fretted, picking individual bits from her blouse once she set Gus down.

  “Sorry.” Violet grinned, hardly unrepentant. But she remembered her manners, sticking her hand out to the man. “I’m Violet, by the way.”

  He inclined his head, shaking her hand. “Luke Tsosie. Unofficial third-in-command in the coven.”

  “Oh, I didn’t expect someone so important to get my cat,” she said, feeling heat lick her cheeks from how informal this introduction was.

  “Please. My place is to do the odd jobs. And this was one of the more pleasant tasks Alex has given me.” He had that hint of a smile again. “You ladies have fun.” With that, he excused himself, and Violet went back to the sink where the contacts were waiting for her.

  “Wash your hands. Cat hair, worst thing to get caught in your eyes,” Petra said as soon as Violet reached for the basin where the little torture devices rested.

  Rolling her eyes, she did and started trying to force one of the discs on her eye before her lids closed instinctively.

  _______________

  It wasn’t until early morning that Violet realized Petra didn’t live in the mansion. She left to go back to her husband while Violet wandered downstairs in search of something to eat. Primped and newly made-up, her thoughts looped, guilt crashing into several reassurances from Petra that this was how coven life worked.

  The strong and stable helped the new assimilate and thrive. She sighed as she rummaged in the kitchen, reminded of how bare it was. “Eggs again, I guess,” she said to herself, realizing, for all their goodwill, the vampires were assuming she was exactly like them, not needing this sort of sustenance.

  “That seems lame.” She nearly dropped the carton as she looked over at Alex lounging against the countertop behind her. Now she was sure she could see through his glamor; she saw that his hair and clothes were tousled.