Chapter 12
Alex
KIM COX AND the Haveners were long in their underground burrows by the time Alex and his friends had their boots on the ground in New York. Even vampires of their advanced age knew they wouldn’t win if they entered Haven’s warren of death traps hidden in abandoned subway tunnels.
Alex returned to his mansion home frustrated and brooding and called a meeting with his most trusted. Samuel and Melanie, his deputy and chief healer. Julian, head enforcer. Luke Tsosie, a feral-eyed American Indian man who had long declared Alex his brother and served as his faithful shadow. Nicholas Ochembu, head of security and former coven master, a true ally and friend. And Petra Jolovic with her lifemate and husband, Frederic. She served as head provider while he supported her and kept her safe.
Alex glanced around at the seven of them, his inner circle when times were rough in Coven Rehnquist. “As you all know, I got into a firefight on my own and ended up drugged and stuck in the form of a lion,” he began, sipping from a glass of wine. How easy it was to resume his place at the head of the table, relaxing in the wing-backed leather chair. They all nodded. “You fought to release me, but you didn’t get me back.”
“Not for a lack of trying, brother,” Luke remarked.
“I know. Now for the part you all got secondhand. I was transported by Haveners to the Cincinnati Zoo, where I was to be framed as a man-killer, either to be euthanized or to live out my days as a wild animal, being pointed at like some carnival side-show. That was where I met Violet Reynolds. She was the only survivor, and we took her vehicle to safety.”
“Then the car went into the river, you two got lost in the forest, she got captured by Haveners, and now you are back?” Petra said, her words difficult to make out through a thick Russian accent.
“Yes. I was going to tell you more, but that’s my story there. Meeting adjourned,” he joked, getting a few chuckles. “But to add to that quick timeline: she’s captured by Haveners, given a hellscape via Kim Cox, and I discover a new power saving her from it.” Now he could hear a pin drop. Only Julian seemed disengaged, cleaning under his nails with a blade. “My friends, I have ascended. I can now walk in dreams.” He explained the dream he’d had and journeying with Violet to destroy many memories that weren’t hers before they overwhelmed her waking mind.
“So… can you do it again?” Nicholas asked. “Without the beast?”
“I don’t know, my good man,” he admitted. “All I know is that I want to keep this as secret as possible. Perhaps with some control, I will walk the dreams of our enemies. Spreading influence and misdirection or even stealing memories.” They nodded in approval at that. “While I wish it were daywalking, I can see why my father’s claim to fame would be last.” Daywalking was a coveted vampire ability, which allowed a vampire to experience sunshine in all its deadly glory without being hurt.
“This seems like it would be more useful if you can do all that with it,” Sam remarked.
“Indeed. Time will tell,” he nodded. “There is another thing I would have us discuss before we turn to the matters of the coven. Violet is in the process of transforming into a vampiress. Her blood, however, is silver, and she exhibits none of a fledgling’s usual bloodlust.”
He chewed on his guilt for a moment before revealing that he’d given her a few drops of his blood to survive the car crash. Ever since she’d burned herself running into the late-evening sunshine, he’d blamed a combination of his blood and Cox’s torture for her odd transformation. But when he presented these facts to his friends to see their opinion, he earned only confused glances and murmurs.
“I’m going to consult my Gifted friends and see if they’ve seen anything like it,” Melanie promised once he was finished.
Julian looked up from his blade, licking dry lips. “My father used to speak of a silver-eyed woman.”
“Well, your father didn’t have all his marbles,” Alex said, though he made an encouraging gesture. Julian so rarely mentioned his father, an infamous Ancient by the name of Marcus the Fair. Some of the things Marcus had done defied belief in the level of his cruelty and megalomania.
The murderer of that tyrant sat close by, reluctantly speaking of an old memory. “Regardless, he knew of one. She was one of the women who ruined his view of relationships.” He shrugged, speaking to his dagger. “So, at least we know that someone like that used to exist. No one else has silver eyes naturally, not like what you’re talking about.”
“I see. Well, I’m keeping Violet with us until we can figure out what’s going on with her transformation.” Alex flashed him a concerned glance. He knew Julian would brood now that he’d brought up his past.
“Any objections?” He glanced around the room.
“A question. When do I get to meet her?” Petra asked, smiling broadly. “Sounds like a girl in need of a makeover.”
“I’ll leave that to your expert care,” he said.
When no one else spoke up, he let the council sweep him into talk of the coven and what he’d missed. With most of Haven mobilized to dispose of him before he could be rescued, it had been quiet at home. He was thankful for that as they planned their counterattack.
He found he was rather distracted by the time he adjourned the meeting and went to bed early. He laid down to rest in his mansion’s master suite, alone, hoping to walk in Violet’s dreams again. Tentatively reaching out to his inner beast, he baited it to awareness with the idea of dream walking. It yawned and stretched out tendrils of mental influence as sleep took him.
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This time, he was himself, though he would’ve wandered aimlessly in the dark if it weren’t for his inner beast. He didn’t know how it worked. All he knew was that he followed Violet’s dreaming self like a shadow, shattering shards of hellscape before she could enter them. This went on for a couple of memories until she came up to one that resisted erasing. She disappeared into it while Alex muttered a curse.
Following her, he realized it was the same nightmare he’d first found her in as a cat. I thought we erased this.
His inner beast responded with a surge of animal fear. On the surface, a field of corn and a fire in the distance was not scary…to Violet.
Cox couldn’t have predicted that he’d see this nightmare personally, but she’d conjured up a night that still haunted him.
“Alex?”
He startled. Violet had spotted him there, her dreaming self’s brow scrunched in confusion. Here, she appeared mortal, her eyes a natural shade of blue and her veins blessedly normal where they pulsed at her neck. She smiled, carefree in the scape of her own mind. There was no way for her to know he was real, and he kept that information to himself as he offered a tentative smile back.
“Do you know what this place is?” she asked, looking him over. “And why are you wearing that?”
Glancing down, he realized he was wearing a native’s leather clothing. His hair was longer and clicked with beads. “Just remembering,” he replied. Almost as if on cue, his old hunting group appeared out of the corner of his eye, laden with the evening catch for the mortals who lived in their village.
Laughing with one of the men was a younger Luke Tsosie, whose own carefree way died this night. Alex realized that his own memories were tainting this nightmare, adding definition and reality to the horrors they were about to walk into.
“I don’t think you need to see this,” he said to Violet, closing his eyes and blocking out how real this moment felt. He didn’t hear Luke joking around or his other friends spotting the smoke billowing on the horizon.
No, he focused on a different night, coming home to his peaceful old village, where he, Sam, Melanie, and Julian were amongst the only white folk living in a generous settlement of Native Americans. He opened his eyes to find Violet next to him, her dreamy smile still fixed in place. “Where are we?” she asked.
Figuring she would never remember this as a dream, he told her what was on his heart. “My first home in A
merica. This is the early seventeen hundreds, Massachusetts. My little coven and I moved to the New World seeking safety from the likes of Bryant Collins and his crusade after he’d massacred the rest of my family.” She walked by his side as he took in the old sight of his home. Most were asleep while the vampires roamed, but those still awake and active went about their routine as if he and Violet were ghosts. “There were four vampires in my coven at the time, myself included. We were little more than a small band of rogues, fitting in where we could. I met my lifemate here, in this village.”
“What is a lifemate?” she said.
“A one and only. The other half of your soul. A soulmate. A vampire’s perfect partner.” His heart hurt as he saw her memory, waiting for him to return from his evening hunt.
He spoke to Violet like the other half of his heart wasn’t there, for while Violet lived, the other woman was only a memory now. “Mary Ann.”
Mary Ann was a pretty native woman, tall and strong and dark as her people. Alex looked down at her wistfully as she stroked her belly idly, revealing a swell hiding underneath the generous dress she wore. “Collins found us,” he told Violet. “He took the entire town from me. Only Mary Ann’s brother survives to this day.”
After a hesitant last glance toward Mary Ann, he walked through the village with his hands in his pockets. Once more, he was his modern self, wandering his old home like a tourist might. He took a purple flower from a florist’s shop, offering it to Violet with a bowing flourish. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, her dreaming smile fading at last.
The dream fell apart around them, leaving them in the misty darkness of her sleeping mind. Only the flower remained, pinned behind her ear. But her gaze sharpened, turning silver and keen as a subtle pop filled the air. He glanced over her shoulder to see the last of the hellscape shards loosening, weakened enough to fade from her subconscious mind.
He breathed out his tension, glad for a job well done even if his chest hurt with heartsickness. For a few long moments, it was just him and the vampiress version of Violet. Perhaps she was finished with her transformation already, gaining a hint of the otherworldly beauty that came so easily to most vampires. She was petite, but her strong features belied an inner strength he couldn’t help but admire.
She was…
Gorgeous, he admitted.
If she hadn’t been through a hellscape and back in the last two days, he might’ve complimented that very thing. No one recovered from what she’d experienced immediately, especially if they’d nearly died from the experience. He’d been around long enough to know when to approach a woman, and in the middle of a dream when they both nursed their own private wounds wasn’t the time.
He didn’t know how long they drifted there together before her expression contorted with fear. His inner beast raised its hackles as they heard a woman’s voice. “Poor thing.”
“Who is that, Violet?” Alex asked, taking her by the shoulders as she twitched, seeming to stare through him.
“Such a victim. Fated to die so senselessly.”
Alex woke with a bitter taste in his mouth.
Chapter 13
Violet
VIOLET WOKE CLAWING at her covers, covered in cold sweat. That woman’s voice was enough to make her skin crawl. She associated it with the bitter taste of death, which had had her in its grasp.
Shrugging off the clammy sheets, she went to check herself in the bathroom mirror. “Poor thing,” whispered that woman’s voice, smooth and terrible.
She inspected herself in the mirror, shocked by how clear and shiny her eyes seemed after a rest. The color of newly minted nickels, they tracked perfectly in her face, as alien as they seemed. Her visible veins had faded, leaving her skin flawless and smooth like a doll’s. It was so different from how she’d appeared mere days ago, and she found herself wanting that normalcy back.
“What happened? Why is this happening to me?” she whispered.
This time, it felt like the voice from her dreams was talking directly to her. “I made you strong. You are a victim no longer.”
Violet shook herself. “Okay, creepy dream voice,” she muttered, splashing her face with water to wake fully from the foggy tendrils still coiled up in her waking thoughts. She’d just had the most lucid of dreams, experiencing a brief taste of the past with Alex, who’d opened up for her like a book.
Just a dream, she thought to herself. Someone old and powerful like him wouldn’t be so forthcoming, especially to a troubled near-stranger such as herself. She showered off the memories, focusing on what she could control. It would be her luck that someone would recognize her, vampire looks or not. It seemed she wasn’t the only one thinking of that, as she heard a visitor knock at her door once she was finished and dried off.
Petra Jolovic, a red-lipped beauty with a thick Slavic accent, took in her measure at the door, clicking her tongue. Violet was dressed in another of Melanie’s borrowed outfits and distinctly aware of every wrinkle and overlong sleeve. “This will not do!” the vampiress announced after a brief introduction.
“Are you going to take me shopping?” Violet asked hopefully before remembering that, despite being in a mansion somewhere in the suburbs of New York City, she had no money to her name.
“No, sorry,” Petra answered. “I’ll buy you clothes and give you a makeover. You need to avoid the police. And…” she looked Violet pointedly in the eyes.
“They are strange, aren’t they?” she admitted.
Petra came into the room, various tools clattering at her belt. She took out a measuring tape and shook her head. “Your eyes are beautiful. We ladies understate ourselves. Hold still!” Violet sputtered with surprise, a flattered blush rising to her cheeks.
Wielding that measuring tape with expert precision, Petra murmured to herself as she took down several specific measurements. “Did Alex send you to do this?” Violet asked.
“It’s my job,” Petra said. “Providing for new coven members is big part of what I do. Are you hungry?”
On cue, Violet’s belly groused. Fed on little but air and rest stop snacks, hungry was an understatement. “Just food. Regular food. No blood, please,” she said politely.
Petra considered her with a frown. “Have you actually tried blood? Melanie said you have no interest.”
“I really don’t. Look, I’ll make breakfast myself—”
“No, dear! I’ll get it for you,” she promised, backing toward the door. “Hang tight!”
Violet had the suspicion that she’d try sneaking blood somewhere into her meal and wretched at the thought. She followed Petra down a flight of stairs to make sure, taking in glimpses of a brick fireplace and antique, carved chairs in a sitting room before they were in a kitchen big enough for commercial use. She checked the cabinets, rummaging for cereal but coming up empty.
Literally. The kitchen was almost empty.
“You vampires don’t eat, huh,” she remarked. She recalled Melanie stating that they could, but most didn’t. It was hell of a diet, too, leaving most vampires svelte. Apparently, one could tell if a vampire ate mortal food or not depending on their weight. Which meant Sam must have snacks somewhere, she thought.
“Not usually,” Petra answered cheerfully. She set aside some staples from the fridge and let Violet take control of things with a smile. “I’ll be back with your new wardrobe. And contacts.”
“Thanks,” Violet said, offering a genuine smile for a moment. She wouldn’t forget the generosity, biting her lip on asking that she buy groceries too. Violet could make do with eggs and Poptarts, for that’s what she found in the kitchen. Still, she breathed a sigh of relief when Petra left, glad she didn’t need to watch food prep like a hawk for any contamination.
She hid herself in the breakfast nook, watching stars speckle to life and a breeze shake through a garden muted by twilight’s grace. There were some perks to vampirism, she admitted, realizing that there was no ambient light beyond what nature provided. She waited for t
hat oily dread to reappear as it had yesterday at every inopportune moment.
But she felt no fear over planning for the future, just a gaping uncertainty. How had she really become a vampiress? And what would she do now that she was one? Her old job was ruined, as was her name. She would need a whole new start.
Maybe there was some vampire-related task she could do. She’d have to ask Alex. But she couldn’t rely on his charity forever. As much as he may think he owed her, she hated relying on another’s goodwill. There was no way of telling when that generosity would evaporate.
“Don’t tell me you’re brooding.” Alex’s real voice was a surprise. She startled, glancing up, expecting for a moment to see a lion instead of the man dressed in black having a seat next to her so he too could admire the garden outside.
“And if I were?”
Humor was tugging at his lips as if this were some inside joke to him. “You’d be in good company. It’s a fine pastime for some of us,” he said, eyeing her breakfast. “Still not feeling blood, hmm?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not at all.”
“Hmm.” Now she could feel his gaze on her. “I think you’ve finished transforming at least. That’s pretty typical. It takes a few days for the change to settle.”
“But I should be craving blood.”
“The most dangerous time for a vampire is when they first start,” he said, frowning to himself. “The bloodlust is that bad. And if it’s not sated, they die.”
“Brutal,” she said, shuddering.
“Indeed. But nothing like that for you. You don’t remember being fed any blood by a Havener? Nothing like that?”
She remembered the voice. “I made you strong.”
“No, nothing like that,” she said, swallowing past a sudden lump in her throat. She looked into his troubled expression.
Dream Walker: Blood Legacy Series Book 1 Page 7