Blakeshire (Insight #9)(33)

“And you meant what by that?”

“Live like there is no tomorrow. Give her the last test, Drake. She will pass with flying colors.”

I had to look away. It’s hard having a best friend that can see right through you, literally. I never spoke of any test I was putting her through, but we both knew that was exactly what I was doing. I’m not a trusting soul. No secret there. Like Madison, I wanted proof she was not an evil ploy.

I even went as far as asking Draven exactly how all of their abilities worked. I knew what she could and could not see when she looked at me, and that was before the last trial when she was dwindled down to near nothing in the way of supernatural abilities. Zander wanted me to let her all the way in, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t want to.

“Plan to. You’re deflecting. What do you not want to say to me?”

He cleared his throat. “Your mother spoke the truth over you last night. You are an original Blakeshire.”

I raised my brow, telling him to go on. I trusted him more than my mother.

“Shortly after Donalt turned dark, his bloodline sent you to the palace. They assumed he was dying and that there was no heir in place. When you arrived, you discovered that was not the case. He had been overcome, and you had to take the stage. Play the part of a blind prince.”

“This have anything to do with a glass boat?”

No response to that question.

“In that life, you refused to be a widower. You were valiant, yet imprisoned anyway. Madison Marie has been coached to undo that past, and when she jumps you are going to let her. If you love her at all, you are going to trust her to come back to you.”

I had no idea how literal he was being, and pushing him was not going to get me anywhere. He’d clam up faster than I could slug him.

“Who’s coaching her? Can I trust them? And why hasn’t she told me about them?” Madison was by no means a chatterbox, but surely she would have mentioned someone speaking to her about a past that centered on us, especially considering that was our one issue.

“They have your best interests in mind. And I doubt she is fully aware that she has been gracefully guided.”

“Gracefully,” I repeated. Zander chose his every word carefully. Could the Creator Himself have woken from his slumber and decided to finally show mercy on my world? I’d believe it when I saw it.

Zander nodded to the doorway. “Landen just pulled up.”

Meaning conversation over.





Chapter Eight

Madison




Wicked dreams are not new to me in any way, but this one was almost too much for me. I saw black ink taking the place of the faces that were around me. It would wave slowly, daring me to stare deeper into the wicked darkness of it. There were so many aromas in the air, but I couldn’t take them all in; the stench of sulfur was too overpowering.

I was given a golden chalice and forced to drink from it; the taste was rich with iron. Blood. I tried to spit it out, but the evil souls with faces made of ink, forced me to drink more. The next thing I felt was my body falling as I heard dark chants pouring into the air around me. I had fallen into freezing water. As I sunk lower into this abyss, I was powerless to fight, to break free from my binds and swim to the surface to claim air. I felt something long and thick pull me deeper into whatever I was drowning in. What felt like pure muscle surrounded my body. I fought against this mass, and when I managed to break free, instead of swimming away, I swam deeper into the murky cavern. I was desperate to reach something or someone—a dark grief seized my emotion. It was very clear in my mind that if I could not reach what I was after, then death would be a welcome relief from the agony that was already seizing my soul.

With a gasp, I sat straight up in my bed. With wide eyes, I took in my surroundings, finally remembering I was in Olivia’s house, in her guest room.

I glanced to my side to find Drake gone. Was he even here? Did I dream that, too?

I pulled myself up, then covered my eyes with the palms of my hands as I slowly rocked back and forth and tried to understand that wicked nightmare. It was just as vivid as the one I had that warned me that I would fight Bianca in The Realm at Willow’s side. I knew I should be terrified simply because that dream came true, and it was even more wicked when it did.

I had a deep, morbid feeling that I had just witnessed my death. A raging anger resonated hazardously in the core of my soul. I was sick of this crap, of evil targeting me for nothing more than fun and games. I was going to end this one way or another.

There was something more, though. I had a dream before that, I know I did. Peppermint. I remembered peppermint. Or did I? I glanced to the foot of the bed, then the balcony door, and struggled to remember how I fell asleep in the first place. Nothing. There was a void where I knew clear memories should be.

I took in a deep breath and counted backward from ten, an exercise my mom had taught me long ago. In that slow count, I was not supposed to think or ask my mind a single question. When I reached ten, I could ask one, and only one.

I hesitated after I thought the number one; I had too many questions in my mind. Finally I thought, What did I dream before? A picture slid through my mind—me marking Drake’s arm. Glancing at the edge of the bed, I saw the balcony, felt the cold, felt an understanding and determination, but who or what gave me that was now absent. So frustrating.

I reached for the pillow that Drake had been lying on and held it to my face. I could smell mint there, but it was not as strong as what my memory was struggling to recall. There was something there, something in that dream; a direction, a reason behind the number seven, a reason behind how or why Drake and I were twisted now and in the past. I wasn’t jealous of Willow anymore, at least not to the same degree.