fell out along with a black, leather-bound diary. The first several pages chronicled Gigi's early days at the Templar Academy until she apparently grew tired of writing every day and stopped. The next section was short, but chilling.
The same nightmare again. I'm afraid to tell anyone or they might think I'm going crazy. Who is the woman in the statue? Why can't I see her face? And what's in the fog outside the back window? I know I saw someone out there. But I can't open the sliding glass door.
Elyssa looked at the date of the entry. It was more than ten years ago. She thumbed through a few more pages, each one detailing other iterations of the same dream, scattered randomly over the past decade. But once she reached more recent dates, it seemed the woman had suffered the same nightmare at least once a week. In the past month, Gigi noted the same dream almost every night.
I'm crazy. I have to be. I'm unfit for duty. But how can I tell Christian? Other than these dreams, I feel fine and in control. I asked Healer Delgado about recurring dreams, and she said most of the time they come from childhood trauma. I wish I could remember more of the dream. I wish I could remember what happens when I walk out the front door and into the sunshine.
A horrible realization crept over Elyssa as a similar scene replayed in her mind. After she'd taken the White and had the memories of the previous two months erased, she'd had the dream of being inside a house with a fog-shrouded backyard and a sunny front. She'd seen her own face in the fog outside the back and assumed in retrospect the entire thing had something to do with her memories trying to resurface.
Maybe her reasoning was partially correct. Or maybe it had something to do with the Templar Divinity, the self-proclaimed angel, Daelissa, who was, apparently, behind most of the trouble lately. Daelissa had spoken to Elyssa of gifts her people had given humanity. Among those supernatural gifts were the ones Templars received as part of the Blessed and Novice rituals. The rogue angel herself was the one who gave them. But what if they came with a Trojan Horse buried inside? What if nobody was a traitor, but Daelissa could spy on everyone through their dreams because she was the one who blessed them? The one who touched their minds to wipe all memory of the rituals?
She bolted to her feet. They had to find Gigi immediately and question her. Put her under hypnosis, if necessary, and question every aspect of her dreams. But if Daelissa really could come to any Templar in their dreams, what good would planning do? The woman could find out anything she wanted.
Elyssa found the others still inside Ludovico's apartment. "We've got big trouble."
Bella's eyes widened. "The officers are returning?"
"God, I wish it was that simple." Elyssa waved at the others and told Meghan and Adam to stop what they were doing.
"This had better be good," Fausta said, crossing her arms and tapping her foot. "Because we're running out of time."
"You'd better make time." Elyssa held up the diary. "Because if Daelissa can do what I think she can, the Templars won't be able to keep anything from her, and Maximus can roll over us any time he wants."
Chapter 17
Time ticked by at a snail's pace. Worry gnawed at my insides, leaving me with a sick, hollow feeling. I couldn't do a damned thing to help Elyssa or the Templars. Hell, I couldn't even scratch my nose. I was sick to death of being tied down and feeling useless. Though Maximus had been gone a while, Amanda hadn't returned from wherever he'd sent her, which was something of a respite. I'd been unable to resist struggling against my bonds, but succeeded only in chafing myself raw.
The scrape of a foot in the hallway drew my attention, but the angle of the table limited my view. Felicia's head poked around the corner. She looked around the room and rushed inside.
"I have it," she whispered, voice full of excitement and nervousness.
"Have what?"
"Maximus's blood."
"Should I ask what you had to do to get it?"
She smiled. "Nothing terrible. I changed out his razor blade for one with a jagged edge, so he cut himself shaving. Then I sneaked in and grabbed the tissues he used to blot the cuts from the trashcan." She held up a wad of