(final)

The Dream Walker searched for the Incubus.

If Elijah slept he would be easy for her to find in his dreams, but he only slipped into sleep for a few moments before he drifted back to the edge of consciousness in a trance-like state she couldn't enter. When he was aware of her, he believed she was a hallucination and raved about silver eyed witches disappearing.

She wasn't able to lift him, but she found pillows and blankets in another room and made a bed, trying to make him comfortable. He didn't help her, but he didn't resist her efforts, either.

Tired of waiting for him to snap out of his trance, she pulled and prodded him until she had him in a sitting position, propped up against a wall. She got him to take sips of water and juice, and swallow spoonfuls of soup. His human side was responding, but the incubus needed something more.

"Either go to sleep or wake up, Elijah," the Dream Walker said. "I can't reach you when you're like this."

When he finished a second bowl of soup he was more alert. His body began healing itself although the process was much slower than it should have been. His eyes opened, and this time, for the first time since she'd arrived, he focused on her.

"Can I see ghosts because I'm dying?" Elijah asked.

"I'm not going to let you die. You're not seeing a ghost. I'm with you. I'm real."

"You're dead. I couldn't save you, and you died. I buried you!"

The Dream Walker nodded. "I did die, and you did bury me. But I had been fed on, and force-fed vampire blood many times while the mages and vampire were trying to break me. When my body died I awakened and rose again."

Elijah looked stricken. "I should have known. I should have stayed with you! I left you all alone."

The Dream Walker shook her head. "You couldn't have known. I didn't know it was possible, either. I thought too much time had passed since I saw the vampire. I'm glad you weren't anywhere near me when I rose. I was a monster, and I had no control. I would have killed you. And I was hunted. It wasn't safe to be near me."

"The mages were hunting for you?"

"No, my boy." She brushed his hair off his forehead. "You saved us from the mages. They probably were looking for us, too, but the bigger threat was the vampire that turned me. He got close a few times. I could feel him, and I'm sure he could feel me. He tried, he still tries, to call me to him. Old vampires can do that to newly made vampires."

"You're a vampire now."

The Dream Walker nodded. "Of a sort. But now is not the time for my story. All I'll say now is I worked very hard, and it took a long time, but I figured out how shut him out and hide from him behind wards."

"But you came here. Are you safe? Can you stay here with me now?" His voice was full of cautious hope.

The Dream Walker was saddened at the lack of childhood he'd had, but she didn't see what they could have done differently. Their choices had been taken from them. She hugged him. "Yes, we can be together now. I brought my wards with me. I am as safe here as I was in my own sanctuary."

"I sorry I couldn't make my witches stay. They left me. They're gone."

"You been saying that for the last twenty four hours, over and over. We'll find your witches again."

Elijah shook his head. "It wasn't just my witches. There were more of them. You said there were no more silver-eyed witches, but as soon as Nadia crossed the wards outside they just appeared. They took my witches with them when they vanished."

The Dream Walker sucked in a breath. "How many more?"

"Five. My witches made six."

"Six? That's half a sabat. How can there be so many? Here of all places?"

Elijah shook his head. "I don't know. But I couldn't control Nadia when she was angry, and she showed me her magic. I can't drain that much. It's an ocean. I can't unblock it. I can't help her. She left me." He closed his eyes.

"Don't you dare give up," the Dream Walker said, shaking him.

"I don't know where they took her!"

"I'll search for her dreams. You need to look for her when she's awake."

Elijah's eyes opened. "What does it matter? She has the other witches to help her now. My witches won't love me anymore. They can't even remember me."

"Silly, selfish boy," the Dream Walker said. "Love does not require or demand reciprocity. You think she doesn't need you because she can't remember you now? They need you now more than ever! If you love your witches you will get well and find them. There are so many dangers to them, to all the silver-eyed witches. If they're out there and unprotected they might not even know what danger they're in. They might all need you to protect them. If mages or vampires find them they'll all be killed. Is that the price your witches should pay because they can't help not remembering they love you?"

Elijah looked as if she'd slapped him.

"This is your awakening. Stop your self-pity and get up!" the Dream Walker snapped.

Elijah pushed himself to his feet and wounds healed as he thought about how to find his witches. "I've tasted her and her magic more than enough to—" he broke off as he realized he was no longer talking to The Woman On The Phone. He was talking to his

mother.

He remembered some of the other things he'd said to her and kept his mouth closed.

The Dream Walker smiled. "Work some magic to find her if she's not behind wards?"

Elijah nodded, more than willing to move on. "I don't think she'll go back to her home. I told her it was dangerous. But she won't remember I told her that. Club Saol. I saw her go there. Maybe she'll go back. I'll start there tonight."

*****

The strygoi gathered in Selene's room to help Nadya learn to control her aura and practice using her magic. She could control her aura with no effort now, but she couldn't use her magic on purpose. It happened by accident when she heard a thought or moved something with her mind.

Eventually the topic of her nightmare was brought up. When the strygoi had all rushed to her room early this morning she'd sent them all away, not ready to talk about what she'd seen. The fear and panic had been too fresh.

"Perhaps moving things with your mind and reading thoughts are not going to be what you are best at," Selene said. "Maybe your magic will have to do with seeing the future if that's what you see in your dreams."

"I get feelings sometimes, and lately dreams, too, but they're not always of exactly what's going to happen. And now that I'm strygoi it's easier to change the outcomes," Musette said. "What did you see?"

Nadya shuddered at the memory. "I couldn't hear anything, and I couldn't see anything for most of it. A man had me in a shower. He washed me, washed my hair, and then threw me on a bed. I couldn't see, and I couldn't hear myself screaming. He bit me, and when I could finally see, I saw a man with blue eyes. They were the coldest, emptiest eyes I've ever seen. And he had my blood on his fangs. That's when I woke up."

"Maybe you saw your vampire," Leilani said. "Musette said her visions and feelings aren't always exactly what's going to happen. Maybe the part you saw was out of context."

"Yes," Ember said. "Maybe you're used to your green-eyed incubus, so seeing blue eyes was weird."

"Maybe," Nadya said doubtfully.

"You know what we need?" Myth asked. "A girl's night out! Some drinks and dancing. Let's go to Saol."

Nadya looked down at her one set of clothing.

Viktoria grabbed Nadya's hand and tugged her towards her room. "I have just the thing for you to wear."

Raven snorted. "Viktoria has just the thing for three hundred women to wear."

Viktoria ignored the jibe and led Nadya to the room her dresses lived in. She dressed, undressed, and re-dressed Nadya until she was happy with the results.

Nadya wore a tight, black and silver mini dress, shoulder-less on one side. A buckle on the other shoulder was all that held the dress up. Tall, thigh high boots completed her look.

Club Saol belonged to Stryx and his vitiate, so they had the use of a table in a special section where no one bothered them. Nadya thought it was more likely they weren't bothered because Viktoria's Darkness and his two black swords were prowling around.

She was on her second drink and beginning to relax and enjoy herself when she heard a man's voice.

Nadya

His voice caressed her mind.

Come back to me. We can be together again.

Nadya's head snapped up and she paused with her glass raised halfway to her lips.

I've missed you, Nadya. Return to me. I'm waiting for you. I'm here.

Nadya felt a seductive, irresistible pull on her mind. Her incubus was here.

"What is it?" Ember asked, peering into Nadya's face. "Are you all right? Are you having another vision?"

Nadya blinked to bring Ember's face into focus. "He's here."

"Your incubus?" Ember whisper-shouted. "He's here at the club?"

Nadya nodded. "I can feel him. He's close."

Ember grinned. "I'm not surprised."

"But my magic hates him," Nadya said. "We can't be together." Selene made that clear. I only remember bits and pieces of being with him, but I know I hurt him. I don't see a way for it to be good or end well between us."

Ember's gaze filled with sympathy. "And yet, he's here. You may not be able to love him, but he still loves you."

Nadya stood. "I'll be back in a minute."

'We can leave, if you want. He can't find you at home. You won't feel him there."

"No, I... I just need some air to clear my head."

Ember nodded.

Nadya slid out of their booth and skirted the dance floor, making her way to the entrance of the club. The vampires at the door were part of Stryx's vitiate, but she didn't know their names. They nodded at her but didn't try to stop her.

The pull towards him was stronger now. She let it tug her towards one of the cars parked on the street.

A man got out of the driver's side, came around to the passenger's side and opened a rear door for her.

No! Stay away from him! Go back inside! Let me out!

Nadia screamed in Nadya's mind.

Nadya didn't hear her and kept walking. She reached the open door and bent to look inside, anxious to see eyes that matched the green color of her ring.

Nadia fought to shove Nadya back and take over.

It's not him! It's-

Something was blown into her face and her body went limp, her vision black.

The man outside the car caught her and handed her into the car, where different hands took hold of her. She was pulled into a man's lap. He leaned her body forward so she slumped against him.

The door slammed. A few moments later a second door slammed, and the car pulled away from the curb.

"I can't see! Why are you doing this? So I won't remember you? I can't remember much of anything." Nadya paused, waiting for him to answer, but he didn't. "Please, I want to remember you. I want to remember everything."

Again she waited for a reply, but didn't get one.

"Why are you hiding from me?" Nadya asked. "I want—"

Quiet.

A collar was snapped around her neck and tightened, cutting off her words. When she opened her mouth to speak again no sound came out. Why was her incubus doing this to her? Was he mad because she left him? Nadia had made them leave, not her!

Her wordless pleas fell on deaf ears as he placed what felt like a metal band on each of her wrists and pushed her arms behind her back. Her wrists snapped together, pinning her hands behind her.

She was laid on her back, her legs draped across his lap. He unzipped each of her tall boots and pulled them from her feet, dropping them to the floor of the car. Another metal band went around each of her ankles.

The buckle on her shoulder was undone, and her dress pulled down to her waist, baring her upper body.

Was her incubus playing a game with her? Did they play games like this? She wished she could remember! But she didn't want to play a game like this now. She shook her head in denial and tried to shrink away, but there was no where to go. She reached for her magic, but she couldn't find it. It was gone. She couldn't sense her silvery aura at all and she felt like weeping at its loss. Her incubus wouldn't take her magic from her, would he?

Her hips were lifted and the dress and her panties pulled off her, leaving her naked before her captor. She had no illusions this was her incubus anymore. She couldn't remember him, but she knew he wouldn't do this to her.

She wasn't groped like she thought was going to be. It was more like she was inspected. She was pulled up to face the man, whoever he was, her knees spread wide to straddle his legs.

Fingers touched her. They gripped her chin and turned her head side to side, stretching her neck. Hands ran over her shoulders and down her arms. A gloved palm cupped each breast, but in a mechanical, impersonal manner not meant to arouse. Each mound was lifted and examined. The hands shifted lower. Every inch of her skin was gone over, as if he was searching for something.

Her fingers were spread and she thought he was going to take her ring, but he acted as if he didn't see or feel it on her finger. Nadya felt relieved.

When he finished examining the front of her he lifted and turned her, laying her face down across his lap. The inspection continued from her neck down her spine, to her ass.

She sucked in a breath, let out a soundless whimper, and tried to squirm. His hands stroked her, but not to comfort.

Be still.

As fingers slid between her legs she understood he could do what he liked, and she could do nothing.

She froze, and his fingers retreated from her sex to skim down her thighs, continuing their search.

When every inch of her had been examined, down to the soles of her feet, the man did something with the bands on her ankles and they snapped together. She was once again lifted, and this time she was deposited into her own seat on the other side of the car.

Her ragged breathing was ignored. Her silent pleas went unanswered. She tried to move, but her body didn't respond to her commands. A tear spilled down her cheek.

The man lunged and caught it on one of his gloved fingertips. He loomed in front of her, one thumb stroking the skin under her eye, waiting for the next tear to fall.

Cry.

Nadya fought the sudden urge to sob and averted her face, resolved to not reward him with any more of her tears.

The man gave her a gentle, almost playful slap on her cheek and re-seated himself across from her.

The car drove for a long time. It seemed like they'd been driving for hours, but she reasoned it seemed longer than it had been because she was scared. She calmed her breathing and tried to figure out where in the city they were. They'd made too many turns for her to track their progress that way. She listened for ferry whistles, or the sound of the ocean. She heard nothing. She hadn't felt the bumps of crossing train or trolley tracks. The road was smooth, and after a while it felt like they descended a hill. They drove up the other side and the car stopped. The man moved, shifting to open the door.

Nadya pressed herself as far into the corner of the seat as she could. She knew it was stupid and pointless even as she did it.

The man dragged her to him and lifted.

With her ankles pinned together, her hands trapped behind her back, and still without her sight, she could do nothing to prevent her body being draped over his shoulder. Nadya squirmed and tried to scream, but his hold on her was too tight and her voice was still gone.

He walked in an unhurried, measured pace, his footfalls silent. The only indication she had he was moving was the jostling of her body.

He stopped, disconnected the bands on her ankles so her feet were free, and swung her off his shoulder. The feeling of cold tiles under her bare feet made her whole body shiver. A door shut, a lock clicked. She thought it was the most terrifying sound she'd ever heard until she heard the man undressing—two thuds, one for each shoe, the rasp of a zipper, and the rustle of material as it was removed and dropped to the floor.

Nadia took small steps backwards, trying to feel behind her with her hands. When she was grabbed again she let out a small moan of fear, but no sound came from her lips.

The bands on her wrists were disconnected and her hands drawn from behind her. The bands snapped together again in front of her and he lifted her arms to slide them over his head so she faced him and her trapped wrists rested on the back of his neck. He was taller than her, and her arms were extended so she didn't have the leverage to lift them back over his head.

The man stepped forward, pressing his large body against hers until she stepped back. He stepped forward again, forcing her to retreat until her back hit a wall and she could go no further when he pressed the lengths of their bodies together. His body was hard, his skin clammy. He reached past her and turned on a shower.

She still couldn't see. Water so hot it scalded her skin poured from the shower above her head. She had the choice to be scalded or push forward into the naked man in front of her.

This was like the nightmare she'd had, but this was so much worse. With her sight taken her hearing was more sensitive and she heard every movement he made. In her nightmare she'd felt what he did to her, but she hadn't felt

him

. He was cold, and not just his hands now that his gloves were gone. His whole body was cool. When he pressed himself against her he felt waxen; cold in a way that suggested lifelessness.

She tried to pull away but her arms were stuck.

He made an adjustment to the temperature so it was still hot but not scalding. She heard the pop of a cap, and hands were on her, everywhere, scrubbing hard. The wash cloth felt like a scouring pad as he used rough strokes to lather her with body wash.

He backed her against the shower wall and lifted one of her legs, going so far as to make sure he washed her down to in between her toes. Any hint of protest or struggle was corrected with a stinging slap to her ass or thigh. He gave her other leg the same treatment, then rinsed her off and inhaled. He snarled, a growl that she felt in her bones, and covered her in body wash again. He scrubbed her even harder this time, from her neck to her toes. He rinsed her a second time, inhaled, and seemed satisfied.

He turned them, tangled a hand in her hair and jerked her head back so her hair was under the spray. Her hair was washed and rinsed, and then washed and rinsed a second time. He lowered his head to her neck and inhaled. The growl he made this time was one of satisfaction. He turned off the water.

Other than the stripping and examination she'd endured in the car, being carried over his shoulder, and the scrubbing she'd just received, he hadn't touched her. He did now.

He ran his hands from hers where they were trapped behind his neck, down her arms, to her shoulders. He cupped her breasts, felt every rib, spanned her waist, pinched the skin of her abdomen, and curled his fingers over her hips. Pulling her against himself he stroked his hands down her back to her ass and squeezed.

One hand returned to cup a breast and he finally spoke aloud to her for the first time. "You have more curves, but you've also got some loose skin now."

Who was this man? Why did he act like he knew her? Wouldn't she remember if she'd been with a man that felt like a corpse? Her incubus hadn't felt like this in any of the flashes of memory she received whenever she touched one of the marks he'd left on her. His body always felt hot and she'd ached for his touch, not felt revulsion like she did now.

One of his hands slid across her skin from her hip to her sex and his cold, waxy fingers stroked her. When she squirmed in protest his other hand collared her throat and squeezed. She got the message to hold still.