“Uhm…Ah—I ju-just have a-a nice convers—”
“Shhh. I know what you and Vesta did, Cy. No need to hide about that…”
Cyrill swore that he saw something from Rozelyn’s eyes. It was tears and…pain.
“I just want help from you,” she candidly muttered.
“From me?”
Rozelyn nodded. Her face was still unreadable in Cyrill’s werewolf senses.
A flash of lightning beamed at Rozelyn’s face, making him startled.
“Are you the one—”
She nodded, then stated, “I need your help in infiltrating Ludwig’s mind. I have a hunch that he has something to do with the attack and the gruesome killings and the identity of the Blood Mistress.”
“Then why summon a thunderstorm?”
She averted her eyes away from his handsome gaze.
“We may not know who may be listening. The walls have ears, as they always say.”
“How did you know?”
“Remember the time that you were taken to interrogation because Ludwig framed you for the death of Demetria?”
He nodded, uncontrollable sweat sliding down from his face.
“I peered into his mind and he said ‘I hope the Blood Mistress will not kill me’. His body then shakes as if the Blood Mistress was just watching him in a distance…”
Cyrill cannot believe what he was hearing.
“Then why are you just telling me this now? Why not Romaine or Anaztasia or Hemera?”
“Because...” she then looked him directly in the eyes, “You’re the only one I fully trust.”
A tear fell down from her brown skin and into the solid ground below.
He was, well, shocked. Like wholly shocked. The look on her face made Cyrill feel a little pain in his chest.
She completely trusts him—complete as in a thousand percent.
He wants to drown her in his hug and comfort her as if she was his wife, as if she was his missing piece. As if she was the other half of him that he had been longing to bring back home—back to his heart.
But they are in the middle of a dilemma. And his yes is solely the thing that would lead them to the answer they’ve been looking for.
“Tell me what to do.”
***
The study was dark; considering the fact that the fluorescent bulb exploded hours ago due to Cyrill unwittingly releasing a blast of his power when he tried to stop Hemera and Romaine from fighting.
Hemera and Romaine always fight like a cat and a dog. They used to be rivals. But due to the Vampire Code that they always abide by, Hemera and Romaine become companions. Yet, a wall of solid ice still stands between them and not even the blazing fire of Vesta’s Elemental powers can break it down.
“Wait for me here,” Rozelyn said as she lay down in the middle of the circle surrounded by white candles. Its flames were dancing in the eyes of Cyrill.
“My father’s copy of the ritual says that I need at least one ‘watcher’ in case you know…”
“Have you ever tried dreamwalking before?” His worried personality surfaces.
She shook her head from side to side and rose.
“No…”
“For shit’s sake then are you a hundred percent sure this gonna work?”
At this moment, her gaze is the one piercing Cyrill as if he was pinned by her on that wooden floor. He crossed his arms and jerked his body towards the window that is facing the rosarium.
She swore she heard him humming that creepy Irish lullaby. He always does that when he gets embarrassed, aside from his wing-wang suddenly rising beneath his jeans.
Rozelyn just sighed. She lay back again and crossed her arms in her chest. Fists clenched just like what she sees from that 1990s witchy movie “The Craft”.
“We’re vampires, Cy. We are versatile creatures of the night…and I am a Thaumaturge. The elders. Romaine and Hemera, don't even know the extent of my power, how much more do we?”
“So?”
“So…” She moved her head towards where Cyrill is standing and humming that freaking lullaby, “I will try and delve into the mind of Ludwig Vergara so that I may know if he is in league with the Blood Mistress or not.”
Cyrill didn’t yield a stare or a move. His body was just facing the rose garden outside while the thunder and lightning prevailed to make noise in the dead of night.
Rozelyn took a deep breath for the last time and focused her mind into infiltrating her target. She then mumbled a few latin words for a minute.
And then she plunged into the phantoms of the dream world.
***
She was hearing cacophony in these bushes. The place was creepy and eerie. Well, aside from it being night time in this dream, there is just something that makes this nameless place high in terms of giving fear factor.
She wanders around while the full moon vivaciously shines in the dark sky above. There were only wild flowers and dahlias here but no black roses.
She continues to walk forward in this hellhole.
‘Where the hell am I?’
She sauntered for ten minutes in the vast thorny bushes. But she doesn’t seem to be hurt by the thorns.
She saw a clearing in the distance. As she inched closer, the noise became louder and louder.
‘Is that the sound of being pleasured?’
Rozelyn was indeed in his dream…or was it?
She doesn’t know if she is in the right person’s dream or if she was strayed into someone else’s dream.
‘Someone or something were having intercourse here.’
That uncanny feeling continues to sink deeper into her as if the dream was just being crafted by an unanimous entity.
She was now in the clearing. In the corner of her eyes, she saw two naked figures. The rocking woman was bouncing on top. Under her is a familiar man, wearing nothing but his glistening skin.
‘Ludwig Vergara…’ Rozelyn realized.
But the woman, the woman was unfamiliar to her. Or was she?
She crawled into a tree nearby. With her swift abilities, she climbed the oak tree and gained a clearer, more vivid scene of the two.
‘Seriously, they are fucking in a middle of nowhere?’
Rozelyn thought and looked down. The essence of the masked woman seems to be familiar.
She observed for another couple of minutes when the two halted.
Ludwig walked into where their clothes were placed. As he seized his shirt, Rozelyn saw the black-colored roses that she was looking for. The roses were indeed lined with silver linings along the black petals’ edges.
He then went to the masked woman and took off her mask. Ludwig then kissed her passionately while caressing her flawless back.
Rozelyn couldn’t see the face of the auburn-haired woman as she was facing her back.
Ludwig’s lips parted from her as he declared, “It was indeed a huge honor for me to serve you, Blood Mistress.”
‘I knew it! But seriously, where did he get those roses?’ Rozelyn whispered.
He kissed her hand and then dove at her voluptuous tits.
Rozelyn began to notice that a thick mist began to engulf the place. She thought that it was just a normal mist. But when she heared the cracking of the bushes and thorns as if it were being disintegrated, she discerned that the mist was fucking unusual. The thick mist began to corrode anything that came in its way.
Yet, the two love birds continue to make love in the midst of this killer mist. Ludwig’s mouth has not yet parted from the woman’s breasts.
So, Rozelyn decided to come down and investigate—armed only with her fangs and claws.
She was a few meters away when she saw blood dripping from the woman. No, that was not from the woman…that was from Ludwig.
The woman let go of him, revealing a dagger in Ludwig’s neck—it’s golden pommel was beaming under the bright full moon above.
The mist now shrouded the two and Rozelyn can only see the woman’s big breasts and hourglass body.
Suddenly, she heard a masculine voice calling her name. She was about to turn around when the red-headed bitch turned her head towards her.
Rozelyn was absolutely stunned.
She was still gaping as the mist covered the auburn woman’s face, with only the bitch’s russet eyes sparkling as she stared at the petrified Rozelyn.
***
“Rozelyn!”
Cyrill repeatedly shouted as he was shaking her shoulders. He was now inside the circle of candles.
“Rozelyn wake the fucking up! You’ve been gone for three hours!”
With no choice, he slapped her hard in the face—as hard as he could.
Miraculously, Rozelyn woke up. Blood was dripping from her nose. Paleness was visible in her brown skin. She was panting and…crying.
She began to sob and covered her face with her palms as Cyrill hugged her tightly and gently. Rozelyn is naked as the dreamwalking requires one’s nakedness to make the ritual effective.
She was still quivering. Rozelyn never felt this shaking before; it was as if the dream had affected her in reality.
Cyrill let go of the hug when he jerked away from her.
“Your-your fa-face and pa-palm…”
Rozelyn looked at her palm and it was wholly bloody. She touched her face and the blood spread even further. She cried in agony. It was only now that she felt the pain. She looked at her hands again and realized that the dream did have adverse effects on her corporeal form. She also scanned her body and it was filled with gashes probably from the thorns and bushes.
The reason why she cannot feel pain in her dream is because it was her corporeal form receiving the painful effects.
Cyrill patted her and grabbed her a towel.
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” He then wrapped her the purple towel.
She was still agitated. They hugged again and this time Cyrill looked her in the eyes.
“Hey Rosie. Shhh, it’s okay. Calm down so that your natural healing gifts can process by itself. Panicking will only worsen your condition.”
She nodded and filled her nose with Cyrill’s pine and snow scent. It was the fragrance of a winter wonderland. The smell made her come to her senses.
“It only felt as if I was in the dream for thirty minutes.”
When Cyrill noticed that she was now in a calm mode, he hesitantly asked.
“What happened?”
And so Rozelyn narrated the events in Ludwig’s spectral and dark dream…except the fact that the Blood Mistress has auburn hair and russet eyes. And she has the face of Maebh Mullin.