Page 100 of Blood Match
Suddenly, chaos erupts. The clash of steel on steel pierces through the haze. Battle cries and screams of pain echo from all directions. I try to move, to find solid ground, but there’s nothing beneath my feet.
“Hello?” I call out, my voice sounding distant and hollow.
No response.
The mist parts for a moment, revealing flashes of combat. Shadowy figures clash, their forms indistinct and fluid. Are they vampires? Witches? I can’t tell.
A familiar scent catches my attention. Rowan. Her presence both calms and unsettles me. I spin, searching for her in the swirling chaos, but the mist closes in again.
The sounds of battle intensify. I want to fight, to protect, but I’m paralyzed. Frustration builds as I struggle against invisible bonds.
“Darick!” Rowan’s voice cuts through the din. Is she in danger? I need to reach her, but the mist thickens, becoming almost solid.
The weightlessness increases. I’m falling, or perhaps floating upward. It’s impossible to tell in this disorienting haze. The chaos of fighting fades, replaced by an eerie silence.
Something’s wrong. This isn’t real. But if it’s not real, then what is it? A dream? A vision? Or something more sinister?
Rowan materializes before me, her eyes wide with terror. Lucien’s pale hands grip her shoulders, his fangs bared in a vicious grin.
“Let her go!” I snarl, lunging forward. But the ground beneath me shifts, and suddenly, I’m knee-deep in mud. The scent of smoke and blood fills my nostrils.
No. Not this. Not again.
The landscape morphs and I’m back in my village. Another place, another time, another…love. Flames lick at thatched roofs; screams rip the air. I spin around, searching desperately. “Ingrid!” I call out, my voice hoarse from the acrid smoke.
A flash of golden hair catches my eye. Ingrid stumbles toward me, her dress torn and bloodied. Relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived. A shadowy figure emerges behind her, blade glinting in the firelight.
“No!” I roar, struggling to reach her. But my feet won’t move. I’m forced to watch, helpless, as the raider’s sword arcs through the air.
The scene shifts again. I’m back in the misty dreamscape, but now it’s Rowan in the raider’s grasp. Lucien’s face replaces the shadowy figure; his usually gray eyes are now black with evil.
“History repeats itself, Darick,” he taunts, tightening his grip on Rowan. “You couldn’t save her then. You can’t save this one now.”
I lunge forward again, my fingers barely grazing Rowan’s outstretched hand before she vanishes into the mist. Lucien’s laughter echoes around me, the taste of ash and failure bitter on my tongue.
I shoot up in bed, my chest heaving as I gasp for breaths that I don’t truly need. Sweat beads on my forehead, a relic of my human days that persists even in undeath. The sheets cling to my skin as I run a trembling hand over my face.
It was just a dream.
The relief is fleeting. The images linger, burned into my mind with cruel clarity. Rowan’s terrified eyes. Lucien’s triumphant sneer. And Ingrid…
God, Ingrid.
A millennium hasn’t dulled the pain of her loss.
I slide out of bed, the floor beneath my feet grounding me, anchoring me to reality. But the sense of helplessness remains, coiling in my gut.
“Get it together,” I mutter. I’ve lived through enough not to be undone by a bad fucking dream.
Yet as I rise and walk to the window, flicking the switch to open the automated blinds and pulling back the heavy curtains to reveal the twilight sky, I can’t shake the foreboding. The dream felt too real, too prophetic. Rowan’s face swims before my eyes, betrayal and fear in her features.
I press my forehead against the cool glass, closing my eyes.
What is this witch doing to me?
Why does her safety consume my thoughts? It’s more than just protecting a valuable blood source. The realization unsettles me.
I stand at the window, watching the last remnants of sunlight disappear beyond the horizon. The dim rays tingle on my skin, a sensation both familiar and foreign. After a thousand years, I’ve built up enough resistance to withstand these dying moments of daylight, but the full strength of the sun remains beyond my reach.