Chapter 47

The grounds were bleak and dreary as James made his way along the cobble-stoned path. He had just left Blakeney’s house and was heading towards the main hall. Even though sunset was still a few hours off, a curtain of gray had been pulled right over the sky and a consistent mist hung in the air. He briefly wondered if the pacific northwest was like this all the time. From those popular vampire movies he’d seen, he figured that the was case. Whatever, James shrugged and huddled into his dark gray coat to help ward off the chill.

Going introspective, he hadn’t really thought much about the change in his dream the other night. Maybe it was the words spoken or the acid-like snow eating away at his skin which made him reluctant to revisit the unpleasant experience. He had gotten used to the traditional dream—even come to recognize it as a sick friend of sorts that he would visit often—but this new version was . . . well . . . terrifying, to say the least. Being submerged in the absence of