CHAPTER 311: EL

A woman’s despairing cry echoed in my soul, tearing at me, reprimanding me, reminding me that I was back in the godforsaken dream where I had no control over anything.

And that I was starving for blood.

Vampire much? Couldn’t I hunger for something else? Maybe water or peppered noodles?

The words echoed bitterly in my head, sardonic humor masking the hollow ache swelling in my chest.

I burst through the rich layers of soil, into the air, my heart thundering in my ears, my mind screaming. And I landed in a crouch in the midst of dense shrubbery and thick vegetation, taking a slow, careful look around me, not in the least concerned about how I could jump out from the ground.

I’ve never been concerned, and I should be. But I wasn’t, and that was scary. What was I doing sleeping beneath the soil like the undead?

The night was thick here. Dark, heavy, suffocating. My lungs filled with the scent of damp leaves, of earth clinging to my skin like a second layer.

Moonlight filtered faintly through a canopy of twisting branches, silver strands of light threading across the ground, illuminating nothing in full.

My crouch deepened, my palm brushing the soil that still clung to my fingertips. I inhaled, listening, stretching my senses outward.

There were shadows only, nothing flesh and blood to indicate an enemy close.

Still, I felt watched. My instincts didn’t lie, and here, in this dream, my instincts were sharper than reality.

I had to get a hold of myself and figure out what was happening before the trap was sprung—and I was certain there was a trap and I was close to being truly caught.

What trap? I wasn’t aware, but my instinct was on a different level here, as usual. A bone-deep certainty, thrumming with every beat of my racing heart.

Suddenly, out of the bushes, handsome men and beautiful women emerged, species reserved for the front pages of porn magazines, and they were naked.

What is this?

They began to crowd around me, arms reaching, mouths open wide as they bent toward me, showing their wares. Their skin glistened unnaturally under the faint moonlight, sculpted bodies too perfect, too symmetrical. They smiled and beckoned, eyes wide, blood running down the sides of their necks—tempting—tempting.

Hunger burned then. Raged. Grew into a monster. My throat constricted, my stomach twisted, every fiber of my being screaming at me to drink. I couldn’t believe that urge that almost consumed me then, the urge to rip holes in their throat and get sustenance.

As I watched in disbelief, the women called to me seductively, moaning and writhing as if in sexual ecstasy, their hands touching themselves suggestively. Their lips were red, too red, parted in gasps that promised more than words ever could.

"Take me, Sage," one cried.

"I’m yours," another called and reached out to me, her fingers trembling as if the anticipation burned her skin.

Hunger forced me to my feet. I could already taste the rich, hot blood, thick and metallic, running down my tongue. My body screamed, desperate to regain equilibrium. I needed, and they would provide.

I smiled at them, my slow, seductive smile that always foreshadowed the taking of prey. That smile was instinct, older than I could remember, dangerous in its promise.

As I took a step toward the humans, I stumbled, the knots in my stomach hardening into painful lumps. I caught myself with one hand on the ground before I fell.

The ground shifted, and I could see the women’s faces in the dirt and rotting leaves. The soil, black and lush, shifted until I was surrounded by the faces, the eyes staring accusingly.

"You killed me. Killed me." The accusation was soft, but powerful, the mouths yawning wide as if in horror.

"You took my love, all that I had to offer, and you left me," another cried.

"You owe me your soul," a third demanded.

I drew back with a soft hiss of denial. My fangs—were they there? I didn’t dare check, afraid of what truth I’d find.

"I never touched you, other than to feed."

I straightened my shoulders and faced the women squarely. I had fed on humans?

"I live by blood and I took what you offered. I did not kill. I did not pretend to love you. I have nothing to be ashamed of. Go away and take your accusations with you. I did not betray my honor, my family, or my people."

I snarled at them, raised my head with pride and met their cold eyes straight on. My honor was intact. Or so I believed.

The women and men screamed then, the shadows lengthening, casting dark bands across their bodies, like ribbons of chains. Their cries rose into the night, shrill and accusing, weaving around me like a noose.

Their arms stretched toward me, talons growing on their fingernails, smoke swirling around their writhing forms. The air grew hot, acrid, choking with the stench of burning leaves.

I shook my head, adamant in my denial of wrongdoing. I needed blood to survive—it was that simple. I had followed the dictates of my family and had protected other species.

"Feel. Feel. Touch me and you will feel again. My skin is soft. Lean. Can bring you all the way to heaven. You have only to give me your body one time and I will give you the blood you crave." The women chanted, changing tactics.

The men had disappeared.

I wondered why. A trick, surely.

"Touch me." They continued, drawing me in. Their voices blended into a siren’s song, hauntingly beautiful, every note tugging at my hunger, at the beast inside me.

And I would have; I would have fed maybe if I wasn’t interrupted by a blinding light, a stranger in such bleakness.

El.

The light cut through the shadows like a blade, sharp and merciless. The accusing faces dissolved into wisps of smoke as the brightness expanded, swallowing the trees, the soil, even the writhing bodies.

For a moment, I was blinded, the world nothing but brilliance and warmth pressing against my skin. When I blinked, the despairing cries had vanished, and I was no longer surrounded by smoke or chains.

Instead, I stood in a forest washed clean. The air here was pure, crisp, fragrant with wildflowers and dew. The leaves whispered softly, and above, the canopy opened to reveal a sky littered with stars. Peaceful. Silent. A stark contrast to the madness I had just fled.

And then I saw her. El.

She wasn’t flesh, not form as mortals knew it, but a shapeless cloud, a luminous haze drifting above the earth. She pulsed faintly, strands of light unraveling from her like threads of silk. She didn’t need to speak for me to know her, for I had seen her before—in other dreams, in other warnings.

She was my other, the shadow-self I needed no more, the presence I had denied and banished.

Her voice brushed against my mind, soft and steady: Be careful, in this pack, Sage. Not all appears as it should. The hunger is not always your own.

My fists clenched, anger bubbling up, bitter and raw. "Damn you, El," I spat. "You come only to remind me of things I don’t need to hear. I don’t need your riddles, your warnings."

Her form flickered, but the calm remained. You will see.

I cursed louder this time, forcing myself to will the dream away. To wake. To escape her.

And that, I did.

"Damn El..." I muttered, ruffling my hair, throwing my legs off the bed, my eyes finding the wall clock. Just three a.m.

After Isla and I had freshened up and taken our baths, we had immediately plunged to sleep in our different rooms, needing to be fully fresh when the meeting bells sounded the next day. Only now, I was awake, and didn’t feel the inclination to go back to sleep.

Damn El! I cussed again, getting on my feet, getting out of my room, moving toward the sitting room. I dumped myself on a sofa and eased into my thoughts.

Why do I have this dream, one I hadn’t had in more than four years? Why had El made an appearance in my dreams again? The last time had been three years ago, when I banned her from my dreams, banned her words of warning from my head. It wasn’t needed. I didn’t need her either.

I sighed, throwing my head back. And what was it about my need for blood? For so long I’ve had these questions, yet my tongue always seemed heavy when I wanted to confide in Freda about it, or the queen.

Was it a prophecy? Was my helping the vampires going to make me one?

I shuddered at the thought, shaking my head at my overactive imagination.

Cussing again, I looked around the room, and got to my feet, steely resolve shining through me, breaking the doubts and fears.

I was doing what was right. I was putting myself first.

And then I returned to the room to sleep; bent on taking a sleeping potion, if it wouldn’t come naturally.