Dreams of Darkness

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Dreams of Darkness Page 10

by Eve Langlais


  Titus walked toward the shape, knowing this misshapen mass had to be Adara, yet his mind had a hard time grasping it for her outline appeared wrong somehow.

  Reaching her, he gasped. Even with everything he’d seen in his life, he found himself appalled. Pity flooded through him as he stared down at the broken and bleeding body from whence the cries merged.

  “Oh, Adara,” sighed Titus, his tone low and pitying. “What happened to you?” He couldn’t discern a part of her body that hadn’t sustained some kind of injury. What looked like blond hair had turned almost black with matted blood. Her creamy skin was discolored—bruised purple and blue and yellow and green as if she’d been continuously beaten over and over. Gouges raked her skin, bleeding and angry. While her limbs… Titus had to swallow hard as his mind struggled to comprehend how a body so broken could survive. Even at the worst of his torture, he’d never borne injuries such as these.

  In the ruin of her face, one violet-colored eye opened while the other stayed swollen shut. He heard her whisper, “Help me.”

  She knows I’m here. Titus knelt beside her and lifted her lolling head to cradle it in his lap, momentarily concerned that he might cause her further pain, but given her injured state, he doubted she’d notice. Besides, he judged she needed the comfort more.

  His hand lightly brushed her skin. “Hush, dearest. You are safe now. I’m here with you.”

  “I hurt,” she cried, the words gutted with agony.

  His heart squeezed. “This isn’t real, Adara. These are old injuries, which have healed. This is but a nightmare. Wake up, and you will see I speak the truth.”

  “Why wake? The pain will just return when next I sleep. This is my curse.” She sobbed anew.

  Titus wondered how long she’d suffered the nightmares, and more importantly, who did this to her?

  He’d have to do something to help her—hunt down her enemies and drink from the hole I shall rend in their throats!—but for now, he’d have to settle for waking her up and removing her from the painful landscape where she resided in her dreams.

  “You need to trust me when I say this is just your mind playing tricks. This isn’t real. Right now, you’re sleeping on Logan’s couch, uninjured. You need to wake up.”

  “I can never escape,” she whispered. “You don’t know what they did.”

  “Tell me.”

  But instead of telling him, she closed her eyes, and her body went still.

  “Adara,” he cried out. He hugged her tightly to him, only she had no substance. Her body shimmered and disappeared, along with the desolate landscape.

  In a blink of an eye, Titus found himself abruptly looking at Adara, an unblemished version. She slept peacefully now on the couch, the cries in his mind silenced. The agony not so easily forgotten.

  Titus moved away from her with shaking hands.

  “What the hell happened?” Logan barked.

  Holding a finger to his lips, Titus gestured at Logan to quiet him. Titus stood and left the room, and only then did he somewhat relax.

  “Are you going to tell me what the fuck just happened back there?” asked Logan in a low whisper. “It was like you were dead. Or, should I say, more dead than usual.”

  “Such a comedian,” Titus retorted dryly. “I became caught in her nightmare, just like you.”

  “Do you remember it?”

  More than Logan had, apparently. “Yes, but there wasn’t much to see. All I can divulge is that Adara was seriously hurt in the past.” An understatement for sure.

  “By who?” asked Logan with a growl. His eyes glowed, a sign of his beast’s agitation.

  “I don’t know. But whoever did it was savage and merciless. The injuries I saw…” Titus almost closed his eyes against the vivid image of them. “She must have some pretty potent blood flowing through her veins to have survived.”

  “Are you sure it really happened? I mean, couldn’t it have just been a bad dream?”

  Titus shook his head. “No. No one could imagine that kind of horror.”

  “Then where are her scars?”

  At the query, Titus shrugged. “Healed. Hidden. Does it matter? I am telling you, she suffers. Probably why she has amnesia.” At Logan’s puzzled look, Titus said, “I take it you didn’t know. She mentioned it to me before you showed up like the world’s most innocuous lap dog. Apparently, she can’t remember anything past a few months ago. I believe the amnesia is her mind’s way of coping with what happened to her. Unfortunately, when she sleeps, her subconscious seems intent on reliving it.”

  “How do we stop it?” asked Logan, his brow creased.

  The obvious interest the wolf had for the girl annoyed Titus. A bond existed between Titus and Adara now, one he intended to strengthen. However, Logan seemed to have a growing attachment, as well. And even worse, he shared it with his beast, a fact that troubled Titus. The last thing he needed was for the wolf to soul bond with Adara. That would put a crimp in his plans for sure.

  What plans? He wasn’t sure yet other than the fact that he wanted to get closer to Adara. Much closer.

  “I don’t know how to end her dreams. But there must be a way; otherwise, I would have heard her mental cries for help before now.”

  “Perhaps the dreams are new.”

  Titus shook his head. “Doubtful. She spoke as if they’d been happening for quite some time. It could be she was using sleeping aids that blocked the dreaming. You’ll need to question her when she wakes.”

  “Will do,” said Logan with a nod. “Before you crawl off for a nap in your coffin, we need to talk about the necromancer who’s targeting her.”

  “Yes, we do,” said Titus. Although he’d do more than talk when he found the vile practitioner. Vamps had an aversion to any who could make the dead walk. It’s just plain wrong.

  “How do we find him?” Logan asked.

  “Did you manage to keep any of the zombies from the evening’s attack intact?”

  At Logan’s sheepish shrug, Titus sighed. “Of course, not. Because that would have been much too easy a trail to follow. The next time, keep one alive for me.”

  “What do you mean ‘the next time’?’ Do you really think the asshole is going to try and come after her here?”

  “I’d say it’s a slim possibility. Which is why we shall have to let Adara continue to go to work.”

  “What? Are you nuts? She’s a sitting duck in that store.”

  “She’s the only bait we have.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “No one asked you to like it, but you know it’s our quickest and best chance of flushing out the practitioner of the dark arts.”

  “And what do we do when we find the asshole who’s making zombies?”

  A chill smile pulled Titus’s lips. “There is only one possible outcome. Death.” And as a member of the highest Cabal, Titus would be the executioner.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Titus left an hour before dawn, promising to return the following eve. It didn’t exactly make Logan happy, but after what had happened when he touched Adara, he could see how Titus might prove useful.

  I don’t have the kind of magic needed to fight this.

  Where was the enemy he could slay?

  And why couldn’t he remember being with her inside her nightmare? Other than the excruciating pain, he recalled nothing—nothing but a shimmering remnant of the agony. He did have a better understanding, though, of why Adara seemed so fearful. Anyone who’d lived through extreme torture had earned the right to fear it happening again. And it certainly explained her amnesia. Her mind protected her by walling off the past.

  Returning to her side, Logan stared down at her fragile features, wondering who could have hurt her. Was it the necromancer? Had he tracked her down to finish what he started? Show yourself. Logan needed an enemy to demolish, anything to make him feel as if he did something to help her.

  How else could he protect her from the demons in her mind?

  Fatig
ue tugged at his limbs, and a yawn broke free. Logan thought longingly of his big, comfy bed upstairs, but he made do with the cramped couch across from where she slept. A part of him couldn’t bear leaving her alone, and he wanted to be close when she woke.

  We have to guard her, his wolf insisted.

  How and why she affected him still troubled him, but Logan had faith in his wolf’s instincts. If his beast said they could trust her, then he did. As for the urge to protect and claim her, for now, he’d hold back, but only because he didn’t want to scare her off. However, he wouldn’t wait forever. His willpower could only handle so much. With her sweet scent swirling all around him, he gritted his teeth at the inevitable swelling of his shaft and willed himself to sleep.

  And dreamed. Imagined he walked alongside a woman with platinum locks across a battleground that resembled the fiery pits of Hell.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Being a good servant, Titus’s driver, Harold, had remained nearby with the car, which meant a comfortable ride home. Titus welcomed the easy commute because his mind was full of Adara.

  The enigma.

  The woman.

  The temptation.

  Damn the werewolf for being the one to save her from the zombies. Piqued that she’d turned to the wolf earlier, Titus had not followed her home. If he had, then he could have at least shared in her heroic rescue. Instead, the saving he’d done within her own memories would probably be forgotten when she awoke.

  Even thinking of the nightmare she’d drawn him into gave him chills. Ironic considering what he was. Even more disturbing, Titus had a feeling that what he’d seen and felt only began to scratch the surface of what she’d experienced. Adara had hinted at more horrors, and she’d also said they tortured her, implying that this was the work of more than one being. But who and what could have done such a thing? And why let her live? Or escape?

  He made it to his home and entered the first room with its sideboard and decanter of cognac. He poured himself a glass, yet the bracing taste of the alcohol did little to change his thoughts.

  Who is she? That question kept cropping up everywhere he turned, but instead of unraveling her mystery, he found it deepening. One thing he had learned: she wasn’t human or of any caste of being he’d ever encountered. Although, like the lycanthropes, her body appeared capable of great healing. Her injuries would have killed a human—and even certain supernaturals.

  What is she?

  Titus had met many special creatures in his life, some of which were now extinct like the harpy and the unicorn. Yet, with all other supernaturals, it was readily evident what they were. Their smell, their diet, or their appearance gave it away.

  But Adara hadn’t yet dropped any real clues. Even her scent appeared wrong, somehow masked to hide her true nature.

  Someone had gone through a lot of trouble, which meant that Titus had to be careful not to trip any alarms in his search for her true identity. Someone as special as she would have people—or things—seeking her. He didn’t want her to fall victim again.

  A noise from the front hall of his house snapped him out of his reverie. Stefan strode into the salon, a sheaf of papers in one hand and a grin on his face.

  “I found her!” he exclaimed. “Lucked out, actually.”

  “The phone booth tip paid off?”

  “Nope. The number she called? It went to an unlisted number.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Someone, a talented hacker most likely, rerouted it to the real number.”

  “Then how did you find her?”

  “That’s where the luck comes into play. Since you mentioned that she might have spent time in a hospital, I ran it by one of my lady friends, who’s also a nurse. Told her about this chick with amnesia who might have been in a crazy accident. Lo and behold, she happened to remember Adara because she’d never seen someone in such bad shape heal like she did. And, even freakier, change hair color.”

  “What’s so strange about a woman dying her hair?” questioned Titus, sitting in the chair behind his desk and propping his feet up.

  “She didn’t dye it,” said Stefan, his eyes gleaming. “According to my friend, the day she arrived in the emergency room she was platinum blond. By the time they rinsed the blood from her hair, it had turned almost pure black.”

  Titus’s brows shot up. That is interesting. He pointed to Stefan’s hand. “Is that her file?”

  “Yup. I also got an address for the admitting doctor in there in case you wanted to pay him a visit.”

  “Excellent.” Titus grabbed the file.

  “I already took a peek, and damn. That chick really got the rough end of a stick.” Stefan’s face darkened. “Whoever hurt her was one sick puppy.”

  “Yes, and they will be made to pay,” said Titus, his eyes turning black. It didn’t matter that the damage inflicted on her occurred before he’d met her; he still intended to avenge her. She can think of it as a courting gift.

  “What I couldn’t locate was where she went after the hospital.”

  “Keep looking. I want to know everything.” Especially why she drew him.

  With dawn fast approaching, Titus took the file down to his secure, windowless room. This was a fact legend got correct. Sunlight was not a vampire’s friend. The damned UV rays did something to their chemical balance that caused them to roast from the inside out.

  There were times he missed the warm rays of the sun. But longevity had to have some drawbacks, or everyone would clamor to join the vampiric ranks.

  Lying on his bed, pillow at his back propping him up, Titus leafed through the medical reports and emergency room admissions. A lot of it was medical mumbo jumbo, but Titus muddled through it, feeling his horror grow as it itemized the damage done to her. What he’d seen in her dream was Adara’s reality. Broken bones, so many of them shattered the doctors never expected her to walk again. Bruises all over. Slices in her skin requiring a multitude of stitches.

  More appalling, given she was picked up by a human hospital, magical means weren’t used to heal. Modern medicine called her a miracle, when the reality was, Adara’s innate healing ability had somehow saved her. However, she’d suffered in the process, horribly so.

  He re-read the initial admittance report, looking for clues, but found nothing. Apparently, she’d just appeared in the emergency room, a broken heap on the floor who could not have walked in on her two feet. Yet nobody could remember seeing her arrive. Stefan had tacked a note inside the folder indicating that security cameras showed nothing. One moment, the floor was bare; and the next, she lay upon it.

  Against the admitting doctor’s belief—at least according to his initial notes—she pulled through, her injuries healing while she remained in the coma she’d arrived in and never snapped out of. When she was considered out of critical condition, they’d sent her to a long-term ward for coma patients. Her file then skipped a period of time spanning months. Titus riffled through the paperwork, but instead of locating a medical report for the coma institution, Titus found another note from Stefan.

  No files available for the long-term care facility. The building was razed to the ground by a massive fire. Her attending nurses and doctor died in the blaze, which is considered suspect. Backup files stored off-site on a computer also disappeared under the guise of faulty hard drives.

  Titus stopped reading for a moment. This bit of information seemed somehow important. Something happened in that coma ward. Whatever it was, someone deemed it vital enough to cover it up.

  Titus made a note to ask Stefan if any of the doctors and nurses from the emergency room had also suffered accidents. Assuming I am correct, just how widespread is the conspiracy against her? Silencing humans so they wouldn’t speak meant there was someone that knew who and what Adara was. I need to find them.

  After the fire, there was no mention of Adara anywhere. Where had she gone? Surely, there was some record, some kind of trail showing where she’d been transferred?

&
nbsp; Another thing bothered him, and he sifted back through the reports of her initial admittance, frowning as he noted the lack of a rape kit report. Surely, given her obvious abuse, they wouldn’t have neglected that? Titus made another notation for Stefan to check with local police to see if they had anything on file. Perhaps the proof of an assault had gone to the cops.

  And what of her identity? What kind of attempts were made to find out who she was? Was her image circulated? Did she match any missing person’s reports? How could no one know who she was?

  Fatigue pulled at Titus as the sun rose. He could force himself to stay awake—his age gave him abilities fledglings needed to earn with longevity—but the night had taxed him. And besides, Titus wanted to be at his best for the coming evening.

  The wolf hadn’t won Adara over completely yet. There remained time for Titus to step up his game if he wanted a chance of winning the lady over. And an opportunity for something more in this life.

  Chapter Twenty

  Stretch. Limbs popped as Adara’s body woke and sought to extend muscles cramped from being in a single position too long. The woolen blanket pressed against her nose had a distinct cologne smell. The cushion with tassels wasn’t her usual flat pancake in a thin linen sleeve.

  Adara’s eyes fluttered open, looked straight across at a man who grinned at her. Startled, she flailed and promptly fell into a heap on the floor. It didn’t hurt, but she sure felt a whole bunch of embarrassment as Logan said, “Are you okay?”

  No. She’d just face planted. In front of him.

  She rolled onto her back, to find concerned green eyes peering at her.

  “Shit, honey, did you smack your face?”

  “No. Guess I’m a little clumsy this morning,” she mumbled sheepishly.

  “Probably because you slept like a pretzel on the couch. Sorry about that. Guess I should have moved you, but you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to disturb you,” Logan said, helping her untangle herself from the blanket she’d gotten stuck in.

 

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