A Shield of Glass (A Shade of Vampire #49)(56)

I was dreaming. It had taken me what felt like forever to fall asleep, but when I finally drifted away, I found myself back at the mansion. It was nighttime in my subconscious as well, dark and cold. A half-moon shone in the sky, but there were no stars, which I found peculiar.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw the plantation house, its main entrance torn down and signs of destruction inside, visible through the gaping hole that had once held a front door, and the broken windows. The magnolia trees were in full bloom, the petals blowing in the wind.

When I looked ahead again, Viola was standing there, on the edge where the protective shield had once outlined the property. Green fireflies flew above in loose strings, going in and out of the house.

“Viola!” I called out, and she looked at me.

Her reddish pink hair was lifted by the howling night wind. Her violet eyes were glazed with tears as her gaze found mine. She wore the nightgown she’d had on when she was taken, her arms and feet bare. My heart tied itself in knots, and my whole body shuddered at the sight of her.

I walked over, but I couldn’t get to her. It was happening again.

I ran, but the distance between us never shortened. I groaned with frustration and increased my speed, but still I couldn’t reach her.

“Viola!” I shouted, my voice stretched with anguish.

“Phoenix,” she whispered, and I could hear her loud and clear inside my head.

I kept running, unwilling to give up just yet. This was a dream—I was aware of it. I was determined to take control of it. I had to get to her. I desperately needed to touch her.

“Why is this happening?” I cried out.

“Phoenix,” she sighed. “You’re in danger!”

I stilled, watching her quietly. Despite it being a lucid dream, I had no control over it, not even over my own reactions. I would’ve shouted. I would’ve struggled. I would’ve broken my arms and legs if it could get me closer to her. Instead, I just stood there, pain throbbing in my chest.

“My sisters won’t let me leave,” she said. “But I can still reach out to you in my dreams. Please, listen to me… You’re in danger. I need you to fight. I need you to wake up and take control of the situation.”

What was she saying? I knew where I was. I was in Stonewall, beneath a cloaking spell. I wore ancient Druid concealment magic to keep me out of Azazel’s reach. I was surrounded by allies, their armies waiting quietly in the woods, by the meadow. I was in bed, sleeping.

“I need you to wake up, Phoenix. Wake up! Take control!”

I couldn’t speak anymore. I opened my mouth and moved my lips, but the words never came out. I reached a hand out to her, my soul craving to touch her.

“Wake up, Phoenix! Wake up!”

What’s happening?

“Wake up!”

I opened my eyes with a gasp. I sat up, an alarm buzzing in my brain, and looked around with tense muscles and a heavy heart. Nothing seemed out of place.

I was in bed, in my room inside Stonewall. The moonlight poured through the window, and I could hear the ocean waves crashing against the rocky shore below. It was getting cold, and my body was covered in sweat. The breeze whistled through my room, brushing against me and sending chills down my spine.

Rubbing my face, I got out of bed, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Had it only been a dream? My subconscious need to see her again?

I looked out the window. The indigo sky was clear, riddled with stars. The moon hung large, low, and heavy over the ocean’s rippling waters. It would soon go away and make room for sunrise. Down below, broken ships rocked in the harbor. One had been repaired, with new sails and succubi were loading it with supplies. They were getting ready to sail to Marton in the morning.

The urgency of seeing Viola again filled the hole her absence had left. I was wide awake and knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Thoughts of her came rushing through my head in a deranged whirlwind, and I couldn’t push any of them out.

I dressed and went into the archive hall, where an oil lamp still burned, its orange flame flickering in the darkness. I started looking through the books in the history section. I couldn’t go after the Daughters of Eritopia, but I could at least read up on them. I could understand their existence and find potential weaknesses.

If Azazel had been able to spot the egg pushed out by Mount Agrith, he had done it because he had enough knowledge about them. He probably knew the cycles and had anticipated Eritopia’s response to his actions. It made me wonder whether my own pursuit would guide me to the information I needed to get Viola back. It was a long shot, and a random one at that, but I was out of options. I had to try.

The history section offered very little, so I moved to the restricted section, including the forbidden tomes in the chest. Most of the books in there were spell books, dark magic that was too evil to teach young Druids, archived and forgotten. But there was a journal at the bottom, bound in leather, with waxed pages. It was written by Calisthenes, who declared himself a follower of Asherak on the title page and in the introduction.

It was a detailed account of Asherak’s encounters with the Daughters of Eritopia. I’d probably try for visions about this later when I could focus more, but for now, I decided to read through Calisthenes’s account.

It was as good a place to start as any.





Aida