69
Jules
When I get home, I decide to check my bank account and see how long I can live without a job. I know all the good advice out there, saying you need to have at least enough savings to get you through three months of unemployment, but I don’t know hardly anyone who can afford that.
So I’m expecting to have less than a hundred dollars when I open my account…imagine my confusion when I see I now have half a million dollars!
“There must be some mistake,” I mutter to myself. I get in and out of my bank account online several times, sure that I’m seeing things wrong. But no—a large deposit was made this morning, just before I came back from the Shadow Lands. And it came from an account simply labeled “The Crimson Syndicate.”
There’s only one explanation I can think of—Lucian is somehow still taking care of me. He did tell Whistler to tell me that he wishes me to have a happy and content life, even if it isn’t with him, didn’t he? I don’t know how he managed to reach from the Shadow Realm into the Human world to deposit money in my account, but somehow he did it.
I guess it’s a nice parting prize for a curvy girl who spent half a week being a Vampire Don’s queen, but I can’t help thinking I’d rather have Lucian himself.
I miss him.
Yes, even though he kidnapped me and dragged me into the Shadow Realm against my will and held me there for days before—inexplicably—deciding to let me go. I can’t help it—I’ve never had a man treat me like he treated me—like I was special and cherished. And I’ve certainly never had a man worship my curves before.
So yes, I miss him.
Maybe that’s why that night, when I finally go to bed, I have a bad dream about him.
In my dream, Lucian is sitting in his bedroom. In fact, he’s sitting in my favorite chair—the cushy one by the fire. He’s staring into the flickering flames with an unreadable look on his face and it seems to me that he looks kind of pale. Pale and extremely unhappy. I know I said his face is unreadable and it is, but I can tell that he’s sad. I don’t know how I know—I just do.
Maybe it has something to do with the strange connection I still feel between us. It’s kind of like someone tied a golden thread to my heart and when I see him in my dream, someone is tugging on it. Maybe the other end is tied to his heart and that’s the pull I feel.
I have no way of knowing. I only know that I wake up missing him even more than before and wishing I could find a way back to him.
But that’s impossible…right?
70
Jules
I don’t sleep anymore.
Not really.
I lie down every night beside Mr. Mittens, who curls against my stomach like he’s trying to anchor me to the bed, and I close my eyes and hope for nothing. But the dreams come anyway.
Lucian is always in them.
At first, he’s just standing in the shadows of the Crimson Spires, watching me in that quiet, intense, possessive way that made my breath catch in my throat. I try to go to him, but my feet won’t move. The floor stretches, endless and black, and the farther away he gets, the thinner he looks.
He’s fading—I know that now. Just like Hanna was.
In the worst dreams, he’s lying on the stone floor of his chamber—skin gray, eyes dull, a terrible hunger burning through him unchecked. I know because I can feel it through our link.
And I know—somehow I know—that my blood can save him. My blood can bring him back…only I can’t reach him.
His hand reaches for me, fingers trembling.
Come back, he whispers.
I wake up crying, heart pounding, sheets twisted around my legs, Mr. Mittens yowls in protest as I gasp for air.
“It’s just a dream,” I tell myself every time.
But it never feels like that—it feels true. The thought sits in my chest like a stone and I can’t get away from it.
