Page 50 of Blood Match

“Not good?” I press.

“Okay, it’s bad.” Gran’s chest heaves. “Lord Darick Drake. Leader of the Sanguinistas. He’s powerful, darling. Ruthless, hard. Not someone you’d want in your world. He has to be…at least a thousand years old.”

A thousand years? Talk about the ultimate age gap!

What are you thinking, Rowan? This isn’t some sort of romance novel.

And who even mentioned romance?

“I’m in shit, aren’t I?” I say.

“Well, that depends.” My grandmother taps a silvery fingernail against her bottom lip. “The older ones are unpredictable. Politically motivated.”

“He doesn’t seem political.” Although I guess I’m not one to judge. “Just a bit of an asshole, really.” Not to mention a bastard bloodsucker.

Gran is still thinking. “How far does this thing go? Can you lock him out?”

“I’ve tried. I think I can sometimes. But not always.” My breath shudders as I suck it in. “He was there when we had the meeting, Gran. And I’m so…so worried that he might have heard us planning Mia’s vigil.” My voice is tormented.

Gran’s shoulders sag a little, but there’s no disappointment in her expression. Only concern.

“Don’t let yourself think that way, Rowan. He may not have heard anything of importance. I’m sure that attack had nothing to do with you.” But even though she tries to reassure me as she voices my fears, I can’t fight down the feeling of being responsible. “So you’ve heard his voice. And you met him?”

“Just once. Nothing happened.” Liar. “He wanted to find a way to cut the connection. I did, too.”

“I wish you hadn’t put yourself in danger like that, darling.” Gran exhales a sigh. “You should have come to me…but that’s in the past. I’m guessing it didn’t work.”

I shake my head. “We couldn’t figure out what’s going on.” I should tell her about the kiss.

No. I can’t even think about it.

“There’s more to this, isn’t there?” Nothing gets by my grandmother.

“Yes, when I’m asleep he—”

“Asleep?” my gran says sharply. “He comes to you in your sleep?”

I nod slowly. “I… I had a dream, Gran. But not just a dream. It felt real, and I think…” I don’t know what to think, so I stop.

“What happened in your dream?”

I feel my cheeks flush and look away. “It was…intense. Vivid. And when I woke up, it’s like…like it might have been real.”

“What makes you think that?” Gran’s eyes are astute.

“I had… There was a-a bite mark on my…my neck, Gran.” I stumble over the words, touching my throat as I speak. She sucks in a breath, moving swiftly to my side. “It’s not there anymore. I could have just imagined it,” I add, lifting my hair. “But still…there was…”

“It was there,” she whispers, her fingers smooth and warm as they trace a spot on my skin. “Fuck.”

I swallow hard. My grandmother never curses.

“How did it go away? Was it some sort of supernatural healing?” I ask.

“He met you in the dream realm. What happens there can be real if the circumstances are right. But it seldom translates into our earthly plane.” Gran’s tone has grown contemplative. “We need help with this. And I know just the person.” She reaches for my arm, determination on her features. “We need to go to her. We need to go right now.”

17

Chapter 17

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