“Oh, of course. Your special diet.”
“I get cravings every couple of days.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
She felt his gaze fall to her neck and the pulse ticking there. “Not right now.”
She shrugged to herself, figuring he knew how best to solve that for himself. “Though I must confess, I wonder how your silver blood would taste.” From the trace of heat to his tone, she surmised that taking another person’s blood wasn’t nearly what she thought. It felt like the diner’s overall atmosphere cranked up several degrees.
“Maybe I’ll give you a little taste.” She made the offer hearing exactly where it might take them.
He cleared his throat aloud. “And maybe I’ll take you up on that.”
Once they left the diner, he led her back to where he’d parked his car. They’d spent the better chunk of the night together. But they were close to the summer solstice and the longest day of the year, cutting their time short with agreed-upon haste not to be caught by the sunrise.
“Thank you for the date,” she said halfway there when they’d finally subsided to companionable silence. She tentatively cupped his free hand as he maneuvered the early-morning traffic with the other upon the wheel.
Glancing down, he laced his fingers with hers. “It was my pleasure.”
She had the same butterfly thrill as if he were her first boyfriend, holding hands secretly at the back of a classroom.
This just might work out, she thought, a shy little smile crossing her face. A glimmering kernel of hope blossomed within her for the future possibilities in her new life.
He parked right outside his manor, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as soon as they passed its gate. In the middle of the path, away from prying eyes both from the street and mansion proper, he turned to her. Her heart pattered as he tilted her chin up.
“This is all right?” he asked quietly. He leaned in once she nodded, kissing her for a fraction of a second. They recoiled mutually from a vicious shock of static.
She laughed while he covered his lips, his brow pinching. “Must be the weather. Maybe it’s a good omen?”
“Maybe it is,” he murmured. “About your offer earlier. Is that still on the table?”
“For my blood? I mean, if you don’t hurt me or anything.” She wondered why his expression had gone purely neutral, though, when the invitation earlier had had a particular heat.
“It doesn’t hurt or last long. It feels unique…you might like it.” He offered a noncommittal shrug.
Well, she would try anything once. So, she swept her bleached hair from her shoulders, taking a deep breath to relax. This is old hat. He does this all the time, she reminded herself, her pulse still going wild in her chest.
When he pulled her closer around the waist and tilted her head gently, it did little to calm her heart. He blew cool air over her neck. “Relax,” he whispered in her ear.
“I can’t help it when you hold me like this, it’s very intim—ahh.” She’d relaxed mid-babble, the perfect time for him to sink those fangs into her. Clever, she thought. But she wasn’t prepared for the sudden pleasure his bite brought her.
He took only a few swallows of her blood, done within seconds at most. But he left her out of breath and leaning into his embrace. “You might like it, he says,” she said, laughing giddily.
“I didn’t want to oversell the euphoria in case you’re one of the one percent of folks who don’t experience it.” He winked, helping her walk toward the mansion as it started to wear off. “Thank you, by the way.”
“Did I taste good? Does blood even taste differently by person?” she asked.
“Honestly?” He drew out the moment, letting her lean in. “Everyone tastes mostly the same unless they’re drunk, sick, or high. I try to avoid all three of those things.”
“Well, that’s disappointing.”
“You, however, are not.” He parted from her side at the foyer, inclining his head to a woman dusting and studiously pretending not to listen to them.
She drifted toward the stairs, and he backed toward his office suite on the ground floor. She was halfway up the staircase when he called her name.
“I’ve been trying to come up with one for hours and I think I got it. What time does an early bird vampire wake up?”
Violet considered for a long few moments before brightening. “Bite and early! Good one!”
Chapter 18
Alex
ALEX KEPT TOUCHING his lips the next couple of days, pondering the impossibility of the moment they’d kissed. What was a static shock for her was as subtle as a punch to the gut to him.
Mine, the inner beast whispered. It didn’t care about the intricacies. It didn’t care that they’d had a lifemate before. It scratched and whined like a caged puppy, wanting her.
He couldn’t ignore the truth of their kiss, much as it threw him on his ear. Vampires knew their lifemates from a kiss, and that’s exactly what he’d felt once before with Mary Ann. But it was “one and only” for a reason. He’d never met anyone fortunate enough to have two lifemates.
So, he purposely spent two days working, mulling over that moment and how his imagination could play such a dirty trick on him. And, yearning, his inner beast dragged him nightly into every one of her dreams.
Her nightmares.
Over and over again, the same scene. His inner beast made him watch instead of influencing or joining her. It started as voices in the dark, curses, screaming, and items breaking, always ending with Kim Cox shouting, “What are you?”
He woke in a cold sweat, just like he imagined she did several rooms away.
“Fine, you win,” he muttered to himself. She needed him, and badly. Because if only she could see this dream through, maybe they’d understand what’d influenced her transformation.
He dream walked to her next nightmare, the same scene once again. In the darkness, he started to speak over the noise. “Violet. What’s happening here? When did this happen?”
“Alex?” She was in here somewhere, sounding terrified.
The hellscape was gone from her mind. He’d made sure of that personally. The inner beast was the side of him that was convinced what they were seeing had actually happened. Open your eyes, it urged.
“Open your eyes,” he repeated.
The sudden onrush of light was blinding. Something—a body—sailed by her head. Kim Cox screamed.
Alex woke up, heart rushing. He didn’t wait for either of them to fall asleep again, knowing exactly what would be waiting for them.
He knocked on her door despite it being midday and the shutters tightly closed around the mansion. She answered in her pajamas, hair disheveled and breathing quickly from the same post-nightmare rush he was experiencing. “Good day. I have a confession,” he said.
At the same time, she blurted, “I have to tell you something.”
They shared a chuckle, her stepping aside so he could come in. “I’ll go first,” he said, figuring she wanted to share something of her dreams. “I, ah, gained a new ability recently. I can walk in dreams and keep finding myself in yours.”
“I…” She recoiled in surprise. “Really? You mean…that’s been you?” He shifted, mirroring the discomfort he saw crossing her face. “Like, when you were talking about your lifemate? And…just now?”
“Yes, that was me,” he said.
A gray flush passed over her cheeks and neck. “Could you, like, ask permission next time? Or something?”
He put his hands up with a sigh. “I would if I could, love. It’s very new, and I have almost no idea how it works.” His inner beast purred, pleased with itself.
“I mean, it’s all right. If you can’t control it and all. I just dream embarrassing stuff.” She scratched behind her head self-consciously.
“So do I,” he said. “Anyway, I saw your nightmare tonight. Was that what you were going to tell me about?”
“Sort of. Did you hear the voice?” she asked.
She fidgeted nervously with a lock of hair, coiling it around her finger. Frowning, he shook his head. “There’s always a woman’s voice at the end. All ‘you poor thing’ and ‘I’ll make your strong again’ and…I hear her when I’m awake, too. I’m not, like, crazy or anything. She’s not telling me what to do. I just sometimes—”
“Violet.”
“—get this voice in the back of my head that has something to say about what I’m doing or thinking. And she just—”
“It’s all right.”
She blinked at him owlishly. “What?”
“It’s all right,” he repeated. “You’re not crazy. It sounds like a vampiress is toying with you. It’s not unheard of.”
His inner beast had its hackles raised. It knew more than him. Maybe he’d forgotten the voice, if he’d ever heard it himself.
“How do I get her to leave me alone?” she asked, her shoulders hunching.
“A show of force, love.” Flexing his hands, he knew this one might be a fight. “If she’s a part of the nightmare you keep having, she may be the reason you’re a vampiress. But it’s hard to tell because it seems your dream keeps cutting itself off.”
“Can you and your dream powers help me see it through?” she asked. He couldn’t stand the tremble in her voice and beckoned her close as he stood. Following suit, she sank into his embrace with a sigh.
“I’m going to do everything in my power to scare her off. We’ll get through this together,” he promised.
This time, she drew him into a kiss. Mine, whispered his inner beast.
He blocked out that side of him, savoring the moment instead. She fit perfectly in his arms. “Will you stay?” she whispered as he lingered there, his forehead pressed to hers. They breathed the same air.
He knew what she needed, the grounding support and touch of another. “I can. If that’s what you want,” he murmured. The last thing he wanted was for her to regret it in the evening.
Violet pulled back, catching his hands. An encouraging tug was all he needed.
_______________
Armed with him by her dreaming side, the nightmare did not return. Nor did the woman’s whispers, hopefully for good. Alex accepted the uneasy peace that followed for what it was: a gift.
He had the time to lavish Violet with attention. His inner beast was quelled by her touch and presence, mollified he was considering that maybe they’d found a partner to wash away the ennui of long age.
Trouble came two weeks in when Nicholas tracked him down to offer an envelope addressed to him. “From Coven Deveaux,” he said. In addition to ensuring the safety of his coven members, Nicholas occasionally intercepted messages such as this.
“Who was the messenger? Anyone I know?” Alex asked, slitting it immediately to read its contents.
“Her second.” Nicholas frowned, waiting. Alex passed him the message, a simple invitation written in a formal hand. He cursed under his breath. “You think she’s invited Collins?”
“He technically counts,” Alex said, sighing through his nose. For the note proclaimed a full coven master meeting later that evening. In a show of faith, every coven master was to bring their second. It was typical—everyone’s territory was equally vulnerable during a meeting of this nature.
He contacted Julian first, calling him from patrol. With the two of them looking after the estate and Nicholas increasing security at their borders, the coven should be fine in his and Sam’s absence. Violet should be fine as well. He found her lounging in his room, watching Netflix with a bowl of popcorn in her lap. “Good show?” he asked. She’d introduced him to the idea of shows playing as background music, but she seemed to actually watch them while he was distracted by her.
“Sure. Is something wrong?” She eyed the taut line of his body.
“Unexpected meeting. All twelve coven masters and their seconds. I got the kind of summons I can’t ignore.” He crossed to his closet, where he started changing into one of his best suits.
“From that Ancient you told me about?” she asked, pausing her show to help him with his tie.
“The oldest little girl around. Yes. I wonder what she’s seen in the future this time,” he said with a sigh. Most of her urgent meetings where the whim of her future sight. Yet no one would dare miss an all-coven meeting unless they could not physically make it there in time. It expressed the kind of weakness other covens would exploit.
“Well, tell me when you know, okay? I wonder what the rush is,” she said.
“I’ll keep you posted.” He sealed his promise with a kiss.
Chapter 19
Alex
ALEX GAZED OUT at the faces of the other coven leaders and the empty chairs around the antique table. The places to Cossette’s left and right were empty from her spot at the head of the table. They were seated in order of power and size of territory, with seconds standing symbolically behind their coven masters.
The personalities in the room fascinated him, so rarely seen outside of their territories. New York was a massive city with enough mortals to support covens that seemed obscenely large to an immigrant such as himself. Yet even with so many resources, he and his fellow leaders still fought for scraps of land and jobs and people.
Elder Rockefeller sat across from him, primped and puffed as if posing for an old painting. She had her nose lifted with airs of superiority that she felt none could touch. She’d married into her fortune, leaving when the goings got rough for her adopted mortal family. Alex had lost his respect for her after it came to light, but she’d always been a step ahead of him in age and strength, commanding his coven to heel with force if not with grace. He knew that even now, she thought she was the only Elder in the room, not realizing Alex had ascended to that status as well. Without him flaunting his aura, no one in this room would know for a long time.
The power of blood flowed weaker after he looked past her. With two Elders close to the head of the table, only four of the remaining eight vampires had reached Master age, and their seconds were younger still.
Coven Master Taylor plucked at her suit’s cuff, the former politician clearly uncomfortable next to the trinity of Coven Masters Rosas, De Leon, and Washington, all dressed in their very best and leaning over her from their positions at the end of the table to talk to Alex and Elder Rockefeller directly. The three of them were organized crime, the hard men the police could never touch. Alex found their existence rather odious, yet he still played the game. He couldn’t afford to touch them without costly war, especially when new, less friendly faces would replace them.
Between these two factions, Masters Ivashov and Weber, both Germanic immigrants, smoked their pipes and spoke together mentally. He liked the men, even if Ivashov often tried pilfering houses from around the outskirts of Coven Rehnquist’s territory. If it weren’t for that, he might’ve considered an alliance with them, as they were united in their dislike for Haven’s lurking.
And then there were Masters Smith and Wagner, who sat across from each other and shared venomous glares as some of the most vicious off and on friends he’d ever met. Today, it seemed, they were not friends.
“We have an important guest today,” Cossette said when it looked like Bryant Collins and his second wouldn’t be showing.
“And here he is!” Any good spirits left in Alex left as, fashionably late, Collins drifted in the room with a showman’s smile. Master Weber clapped slowly, shooting an irritated look his way.
“A pleasure to see you all, as always.” Collins eyed the seating arrangement, choosing the one next to Elder Rockefeller. He was within punching range, and Alex was sorely tempted as Collins flashed a look his way. He’d brought Kim Cox, his wife, to stand behind him as his second. She, too, looked his way when she felt his hostile gaze upon her, a slow smile stretching her face.
Collins never released his aura amongst polite company but was often ranked between Rockefeller and Cossette in meetings of this nature, making him a strong Elder or early Ancient. He also wore
no glamor, making it that much harder to mark his power. To everyone, he was a doughy-faced Irishman who indulged in mortal food a little too often, with short-cropped red hair and skin marked with countless freckles.
He often claimed he’d been around for the Crusades, a fact he didn’t let slip by as he wore a tie emblazoned with crosses. Just the sight of him was odious to Alex, made more so that the only time he did see Collins outside of his protected zones was on neutral ground such as this, where he could be badly punished for attacking the master of a rival coven.
“As I was saying,” Cossette said, clearing her throat. She tilted her head. “I’ve had a special visitor here for a while, but she’s only now ready to talk to you all. I think you’ll like her.”
The pressure in the room shifted. Closest to the door, the youngest coven masters seemed the most uncomfortable, but that sensation passed over them all as one last person entered the room. Dressed in an elegant silver gown, her figure was unmistakably feminine, even if she wore a veil to hide her face. Situated atop the veil was a crown of moonstones. She seemed to float with even, graceful strides.
Alex realized she was heading straight for the chair next to him, except Cossette was relinquishing her place at the head of the table for this person.
She had to be an Ancient of sorts, her aura creeping over him with power as hot as the unforgiving sun. Coven seconds pressed their backs to the wall as if physically pushed by her presence. She made the process as slow as possible, letting everyone soak in the sheer power coming from her.
A collective sigh of relief came as she masked her aura, veil panning as she observed all of the faces in the room. There was pure silence, even from Collins and Cossette, knowing now who was the most powerful in the room. “Hello, my people. Where once my entrance was announced with horns and men at attention, now you all have no idea who I am.”
She paused for dramatic effect while Alex’s inner beast emerged from its frightened cower, projecting feelings of unease. He agreed with it quietly. Best case, this person was a visitor coming to flex her muscles.
Dream Walker: Blood Legacy Series Book 1 Page 10
