A Shield of Glass (A Shade of Vampire #49)(34)

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice making my insides vibrate.

“Hot,” I managed to say, suddenly breathless.

He took me in his arms and pulled me tight against his hard body. I exhaled sharply as his chest pressed against mine, ripping a groan from his throat. He kissed me, deeply, and I evaporated under the sweet taste of his lips.

I opened my mouth and welcomed him, caressing his face with one hand while I snaked my other arm around his neck. His embrace was so intense, so delicious and so enlightening, that I nearly lost my balance. He held me up, then paused to look at me as I bit my lower lip, still tasting him. He was what I’d needed since the protective shield had fallen. His warmth, his comfort, and the sound of his heartbeat echoing in my chest. I relaxed against him, and he lifted me off the floor, placing me on the bed. He removed his boots and took me in his arms again, holding me close as we lowered our heads onto the pillow. He spooned me, his warmth invading my body, and I felt his breath brushing against the back of my neck.

“It’s been a long day,” he whispered.

“And night,” I added.

He kissed my shoulder through the red silk, sending heatwaves through my body. I listened to his breathing for a while, thankful to have him there and so close to me, so into me, before my mind drifted away.

My thoughts somehow wandered to the young Druids. Before the Daughters had taken Viola, before the shield had vanished and we’d had to abandon the mansion, running for our lives for so many miles, I’d made it my mission to find the young Druids in the present and make sure they were still alive.

Before I could even fully process the idea of a vision, I felt my eyelids getting heavy as the darkness came over me. My breath hitched, and my pulse started racing as I realized I was sinking into a vision. That automatically brought on the fear of bumping into Azazel again.

Please don’t, please don’t, please don’t. I mentally begged myself to stay focused on the young Druids before I blacked out.



I was taken to a desert, an endless ocean of red sand beneath a purplish sky, as the night set in. A wide river whispered to my right, its crystalline waters rolling over rounded black pebbles. The river bank was lush and green, spanning about half a mile before it faded into the desert, rich with arching palm trees and exotic flower bushes, and riddled with songbirds and various small reptiles.

A cluster of giant black rocks rested on both sides of the river, casting their shadows and keeping their residents in relative safety, away from plain sight.

I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that my vision had brought me to the young Druids, who were still very much alive. I counted six of them.

They wore reptile skins in shades of dark green and blue, their hair long and their skin tanned to a deep shade of cinnamon. Two of them were taller than their friends, with long, curly black hair and green-gray eyes framed by thick black lashes. Their expressions were rough, hardened, their gazes constantly checking the western horizon.

Two young Druids were bathing in the river, while the other two climbed the palm trees and started picking the fruit—bright pink globes that hung in clusters. The taller Druids kept watch, spears in their hands. They all looked slightly more mature, but the difference barely meant anything in Druid years.

There was a general feeling of angst floating among them, especially between the dark-haired males, who occasionally glanced at each other and sighed. One of them noticed the exchange from his spot in the palm tree, and rolled his eyes as he let a few succulent pink globes fall into a wicker basket on the ground.

“If you really want to see what’s on the western shore, you’re free to go,” he said, picking another fruit.

The dark-haired Druids looked up at him.

“And leave you, Ori, Cassin, and Dain on your own here? That doesn’t sound very cautious, Malachy,” one of them said.

“Well, we’ve been here for so long, I don’t blame you if you’re bored, Flynn,” Malachy replied. “I’d come with you, but we need to prepare food supplies for the next sandstorm.”

“You shouldn’t, anyway,” Flynn said. “Mason and I are fine here.”

“You should go check out the shore, though,” one of the Druids bathing in the river said. “I am curious to see what you can observe from there. I wonder if Azazel is still in power…”

Sadness made his eyes flicker black before he washed his face and neck.

“I’m not comfortable with leaving you here, unprotected,” Mason replied.

“Well, it’s not like we’re defenseless,” the Druid identified as Ori smirked. “We’re not wounded or anything.”

A moment passed before Malachy spoke again.

“Maybe tomorrow, when the sun comes up,” he said.

“Do you think you’ll find some sign from Jasmine?” Ori asked.

“I don’t think so.” Malachy shook his head. “We haven’t seen her in decades. She may very well be dead.”

They’d grown strong and resilient, from what I could tell. Taken from everything they’d known at such a young age, and dumped into a desert on another planet. And yet they’d made it their home. Draven was going to be very pleased with the news. I wondered if they’d be eager to join our alliance.

I felt a smile stretching my lips. At least they were still alive and well. It was a good starting point.