She slid against the door and fell onto the floor.
Things were certainly not going according to plan.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It had been more than a few decades, even before he was stuck in a coffin, where Lucius had to dream walk and either steal information or plant information for a client.
It was a unique art form to dream walk this way and one that took a very sharp and careful mind.
This was a more structured dream walk.
Only the most ancient fae understood the power of dream walking and its limitations, but Lucius’ teacher had been uniquely skilled. He had discovered a way to manipulate one’s mind without arousing suspicion—all based on the specific elixir both parties had to drink.
Lucius would enter this guard's mind, searching formemories and information. But the most crucial part of this heist was planting the idea.
As he entered the dream world, the dream muddied the scenery like a watercolor painting, one his father used to draw, and he waded through various memories.
It was the barracks of the Brotherhood.
The guard was younger. He was training with a sword and shield in his arms, fighting another guard.
The other guard quickly overpowered him and left.
A group of other young males, teenagers, the humans called them, laughed as Travis fell into the dirt and walked away.
Travis picked up his sword and shield and shuffled off. All he wanted was to be a guard one day, maybe even a knight. He wanted to protect and serve, but somehow he wasn’t strong enough.
The memory shifted.
He and the human were sitting at a table, eating dinner. There was a younger boy to his left, his mother to his right.
The father slammed his hand on the table, rattling the dishes, and screamed at Travis’s mother. Thoughthe voices were muffled, the memory hazy, Lucius could discern what was taking place.
Suddenly, the father stood, knocking over his chair, and immediately turned to his mother. The mother cowered in her seat, and Travis stood, hands fisted.
Suddenly, Lucius understood Travis's need to protect.
His father's gaze looked over at him and he laughed before he grabbed his coat. He slammed the door before leaving, causing his mother to flinch and cry.
“We need to leave him,” Travis said as the memory sharpened. His younger brother began crying too.
“We can't,” his mother replied. “There's nowhere to go.”
Travis walked over. “I'll get us out of here. I promise.”
The memories shifted, and Lucius realized that this was going to be more difficult. He followed as a silent watcher, sifting through the memories, searching for the one he needed.
Years passed, and someone he wasn’t expecting appeared. Travis was talking to Hacinda, who was crying.
Lucius wanted more, but the memory dissipated, shifting again.
The visions were changing too quickly.
Lucius needed to focus. He needed to know where the vault was.
“The Brotherhood's vault,” he spoke aloud.
The images swirled around, blending from one to the next before coming back into focus. Travis was sitting at a desk, a gate next to it. He frowned, tapping his fingers along the desk.
