The Dark City Chronicles ⁓ Book Three
The apocalypse looms ever closer! Steamy romance, heart-stopping action, seductive vampires, magic that defies nature, sprinkles of dark-humor, and, as always, the everlasting bonds of friendship.
Hannah's strug...
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Unresistant to the visions, he tried to make sense of the flashes of fire, blood, and bits of conversation he couldn't understand in their haste to drive him to the brink of insanity.
Then, they became clear.
No longer fleeting gusts of what was to come, he felt the vision physically and emotionally, as if he were there in real-time. And he felt pain. Enough to make the sanest man go mad.
Agony clawed from his bones to sear his blood. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was shallow. He was aware this wasn't real; it was a vision of his future. But knowing that didn't help; he was stuck as a passenger in his body.
He was slumped against cold stone, hands above his head, unforgiving metal cutting into his wrists. The smell of smoke and magic hung in the air. Opening his eyes, he recognized the glowing rune at his feet, carved into a giant dais.
This was the ritual.
He didn't think pain could be this excruciating, unfathomable. He would go mad from it before he succumbed.
"Lucas!"
Reid. He forced his hazy gaze to rise. Through the blear of his vision, far away, he saw a fierce battle sloshing the inch of blood that had settled over the white stone of the dais. Kane was hacking at masked vampires, but there were too many.
An army against two, they wouldn't win. That certainty fell over him like a blanket of despair.
Around the rune, near the white pillars jutting into the shadowed sky. On their knees, over a dozen mages had their hands clasped, eyes closed, and murmuring incantations. He'd have ripped their heads from their shoulders if he had the strength. It was their fault he was in agony. He thought he was an unfeeling bastard, but not even he could forcibly sap another mage's magic while causing this kind of soul-wrenching pain without remorse.
Then his worst nightmare happened.
A sword caught Reid's side, and he fell to his knees with a cry of pain.
Lucas was swept away from the pain and bloody battle.
The fragmenting visions threatened to overwhelm him. But then, the emotions and thoughts he was yet to face suddenly burst forth. He was in too deep. He hadn't dared delve into Asha's gift like this since the first time he'd touched her when he'd almost died in that Bureau facility.
He'd have to ride it and hope he survived.
Faint music wafted from a building of white brick on which he leaned his shoulders. Trees surrounded the parking lot, rustling from the pleasant breeze.
There was a faint scuff of shoes approaching. A head of fair hair peeked from around the corner of the building. He rolled his eyes fondly. He hadn't been gone for more than ten minutes.
"You quit smoking," Reid said.
"Wish I hadn't."
Reid smiled prettily and walked closer, hands in his fitted dress pants pockets. He'd have to bump Kane into the edge of a table in retaliation for telling Reid to wear black. His fair hair was nearly white in contrast to his suit jacket's dark fabric, and his eyes—damn those eyes. They were such a deep blue it was difficult to look anywhere else when Reid stared intensely like he was now.
