Page 101 of Cryptic Dreams
“For the record,” I say as Orion holds the door for Aries and me. “Wraith lives up to the rumors about Descendants and then some. His sire? Not so much.”
* * *
“So let me get this straight.”Orion frowns as he sips his espresso. “Atticus toured the States to meet with the remaining few Descendants here, but instead of meeting with them, he either slept with them or their mates, took substantial payouts in the form of cash and jewels astaxesthen went on his merry way without ever discussing anything pertinent to our sorry excuse of a government.”
I nod then shrug. “That’s the long and short of it.”
“And Wraith didn’t even know that’s what he does when he visits the other covens?”
“Not until I told him, but he suspected it.”
“Wow.” My cousin shakes his head. “And the only thing you saw about the unmarked vehicles was him signing off on the purchases, and issuing their use when he put out the hit on the two of you.”
“So far. Getting slammed with so many centuries of memories has been hard to sift through.” Because my brain feels like it’s going to explode every time I try to go beyond what it’s naturally processing.
Wraith and I talked at great lengths about the night of the Counsel meeting, about what I saw from his sire’s perspective in addition to our own, but each time I tried to go back further I’d end up with a splitting headache and the need to lay down.
Which was where the clarity would set in.
Usually, when I dream of someone’s life it’s purely from a futuristic standpoint and it isn’t always clear. Like the nightmare I still have on a weekly basis aboutmyfuture. I don’t know specifics, just the overall vibe and bits of the event, and if it does manage to piece itself together enough for me to know what’s going to happen—like my parents’ death—it’s either jumbled in terms of what and when, or it takes a few days, sometimes weeks, for me to understand it. And once I had my nightmare the first time, I stopped trying to understand it.
Until Atticus touched me, anyway, because my experience with him is a little different so far.
The sheer amount of memories I absorbed rocked my brain cells and it’s taken more time than usual just to go back and see them at all, so the difference there is definitely a big one but so are my dreams. The typically cryptic and unclear images that run through my head while I sleep are the opposite for the High Elder.
They’re clear, crystal clear actually, and they play at a normal speed so I can catch little details. Like the size of his member, unfortunately.
Yuck.
But I haven’t seen his future.
As a matter of fact, it’s as if Atticus’s life starts when he was born—assuming I’ll get there at some point—then stops at the night of the Counsel meeting. The clarity in which I see things in my sleep, the way I can remember them perfectly when I wake, it’s so different from anyone else I’ve touched, and there’s a hard divide between that night and his future. One that’s preventing me from being overly helpful to my mate.
“So far I’ve seen everything from that night to when he left to visit the other covens, and not much has been beneficial outside of confirming what we already know.”
“He hates Wraith, wants you both dead, doesn’t do shit for running our government, and uses his position to get everything his minuscule corrupted heart desires,” Aries says with a frown. “And he seems to hate his mate almost as much as their son.”
Which was also odd.
Not that Atticus and Drusilla hate each other, Wraith told me that and it’s obvious when you see them together, but it’s so weird how their bond works because even though the hate trumped everything else, the High Elderstillhas love for his mate.
And he harbors fear toward her.
At least I think so.
Maybe calling itfearisn’t quite right but there’s a level of apprehension or anxiety when it comes to Drusilla.
When Hans came to get him and take him to her at the Counsel meeting, Atticus was angry, so angry and bitter, but there was something else present that kept him from fully acting on those things.
It could be the love he has for her, the love rooted in their bond that still resides there as the foundation, but I don’t think that was it. I think Atticus pushed down his initial reaction to kill her based on something else, and regardless of the possibility of blacking out from it, it makes me want to touch the would-be queen to see if I can’t figure it out.
For everything I do know about Atticus of Carmarthen, his mate is a bit of mystery still.
Not entirely, though. I know what she did to Wraith’s brother and how she was with his sisters. I know how she barely raised my mate outside of pushing him to be ready for the throne one day, and I know Drusilla was cut from the same cloth as Atticus. She’s ruthless and vindictive, dangerous and heartless, the female is a serpent waiting in the brush just like the High Elder. Or she was anyway, right up until she started coping with her problems with booze.
Wraith did tell me that his mother came from money, that she was revered for her beauty, and her family held power in some of the smaller territories in their homeland.
Drusilla was a prize for any male daft enough to fight for her, and now she’s a lush who can hardly stay vertical let alone be queen to our people. She’s a bloody disgrace, a joke, and sharing genetics with that wench is one of my greatest disappointments.
