“Ah. Well, we need you and Dove to rest deeply the entirety of the day,” he said. He pulled the covers up to my chin. “Lenette added some ingredients to the food to ensure that you would sleep very well.”
“Whaa . . .”
I slipped inside the dark warmth of sleep. But I could have sworn that Drake pressed a light kiss against my brow and whispered something sexy and German in my ear.
Or maybe I was only dreaming.
• • •
“Another human?” The gruff male voice practically barked. “Can our sons find no one among their kind?”
“What kind would that be?” asked a much more soothing female voice. Her tone held patient amusement. “Demigods aren’t easy to find in these modern times. And Moira? You are dreaming.”
Huh. This was new. I rarely remembered my dreams—“a blessing, child” my grandfather had once said to me, when I was older and complaining about my lack of imagination. Apparently I’d suffered terrible nightmares after my mother died. Well, duh. Death had taken her from me, and then left me with a grief so awful I couldn’t breathe. I was five, for fuck’s sake.
“It might help,” said the man, “if you opened your eyes.”
Oh. I opened my eyes, and found myself within a circle of trees so tall that their thick branches nearly blotted out the moon overhead. Something about this place seemed mystical and out of time. I felt the way I did right before I entered a new site, my fingers scraping rough stone, my lungs inhaling dusty air. Mostly, though, was the wholehearted feeling of hushed wonderment as I traversed the sacredness of the ancient past guarded by time and by ghosts.
I looked down. I wore the lavender dress I’d fallen asleep in, if it had been altered into the style of a Roman noblewoman’s garment. My feet were bare, and I felt the soft tickle of grass beneath my toes.
Sooooo . . . I was definitely not awake. I’d been kidnapped by vampires, commandeered by werewolves, and zapped to some middle-of-nowhere town, but I couldn’t fathom this scenario being at all real.
Then again . . . what was real anymore? Real had packed its bag, waved good-bye, and left the moment Karn demanded I dance with him. Or maybe it was when my formerly staid colleague Doriana had punched him in the face.
“Hello, Moira.” Sitting on a throne carved from gleaming dark wood was a woman so beautiful I was reminded of the great known beauties of ancient times—Helen of Troy, Queen Nefertiti, Xi Shi. She had in real time (er . . . dream time?) those ethereal qualities that I could only imagine as I stared at effigies unearthed from the sands. She had long black hair coiled in tight ringlets that fell like silky ribbons to her waist. Her skin was perfect, as creamy and pale as cold milk. She wore a blue T-shirt that read, LYCAN THERAPY: ROCK BAND CHAMPIONS. And she wore a pair of faded jeans. Her feet were bare, too. She saw the direction of my gaze, and she wiggled her toes, which were painted neon pink.
“I am Aufanie and this is my mate, Tark. Drake is our son, as are Darrius and Damian.”
My gaze was drawn to where the woman’s hand rested on the jeans-clad thigh of a man who stood next to her throne. He was built like the Rock. He, too, wore a T-shirt proclaiming LYCAN THERAPY: ROCK BAND CHAMPIONS. He looked like Drake—not only that familiar green gaze and amazing waterfall of hair, but also the warrior vibe. Well, I should probably say that Drake had Tark’s appearance and manner, since Tark was the father. The confusing part, of course, was that they looked like they were about the same age as Drake and Darrius.
Also . . . Drake had another brother?
“You may be wondering why we’ve entered your dreamscape,” said Aufanie.
Actually, I hadn’t wondered at all. A dream was a dream, right? Although since I wasn’t used to remembering my dreams, much less actively participating in them, what did I know?
Aufanie shared a look with Tark, who leaned down and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We feel we should convey certain information about the pyramid,” he said in that gruff voice. “It is not particularly pleasant news.”
“Wonderful,” I muttered.
Aufanie nodded, and lifted her gaze to mine. “Tomorrow, you must be the first one to enter the pyramid.”
“Whoa. You don’t just go into a pyramid,” I said. “You have to examine, plan, measure. Sometimes it takes weeks before we’re ready to—”
“This is not the kind of pyramid you are used to excavating,” interrupted Tark. “This one protects two Ancient vampires who went to ground more than three thousand years ago. These vampires are prophesied to return and rule the undead.”