Vision In Love (Legends of The North Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

night he had walked her home the week before. It had been sweet, and she smiled at the memory. He seemed nice. Maybe I should ask him out for a drink. Or maybe they could have dinner. That's what friends did, and that was what she wanted them to be. I’ll go to the museum tomorrow and ask him. Decision made, she felt better as she climbed into bed, absently wondering if he had a girlfriend. Snuggled under the duvet, she was enveloped by the smell of freshly washed sheets and lavender and had no trouble falling asleep.  
    ***
    Fire. She could smell fire, burning wood. As she turned from the river, she could make out a stone wall with flames licking over the top of it, could feel their heat. Then the screams started–people running in panic, trampling over others in their haste to escape. She could hear their shouts, loud and high-pitched. But none of the words made any sense to her, not even the man who screamed in her face before he ran off.  
    The flames drew her in. She couldn't move, found herself hypnotised by them. Sparks drifted off them, carried by the breeze, and as they began to fall, they changed. As she looked closer, she saw they weren't sparks anymore but poppies. Hundreds and hundreds of poppies falling from the dark sky. They surrounded her, flowing down to the river. She followed them to the riverbank, where the water was a ribbon of red as more poppies floated past her.  
    She bent down to pick one up but it disintegrated in her hands, leaving them wet and dripping water. As she looked up, she saw the outline of a man moving towards her. The poppies disappeared as he made his way through them. She couldn't see him clearly, but he reminded her of someone. Tilting her head, she squinted and studied him. Did she know him? As he drew closer, his hand reached out toward her and she heard herself scream.
    ***
    She screamed again, but all she could see was darkness. Then she heard the creak of the stairs and tensed until Barney landed on the bed, licking her face. She shivered as she remembered the dream, shuddering when she saw in her hand a single white rose. Where the hell had that come from? She remembered the look on the man's face and wondered why she had screamed. He didn't seem like he was going to hurt her. Had he given her the rose?  
    Pushing the duvet back, she realised it was wet, as were her pyjamas. Well, wet's better than mud , she thought and laughed; it held an edge of hysteria that she didn't like but didn't know how to do anything about. Pulling on dry pyjamas and thick socks, she made her way down to the kitchen. Pouring milk and cocoa into a cup, she placed it into the microwave, watching the cup revolve. So much for October being vision-free.  
    Sitting at the dining table, cradling her cup to warm her, Emma went through the visions. The first one had led her to the museum. This one had her by the river with fire, poppies, and a rose. But her first dream had made no sense until she had seen the helmet. Maybe this dream was about the man in the poppy river? She needed to know who he was. Why had she screamed at him?

CHAPTER EIGHT

    Thoughts of the previous night's vision had consumed Emma. She had barely managed to submit her photos to the office by her deadline and she was late back from her walk with Barney. She had spent far too long at the river and found nothing. Not that she had expected to find anything, of course.  
    She turned the oven off, even though the casserole was probably ruined by that point. Pulling the pot out of the oven, she lifted the lid. A mist of steam hit her, followed by the smell of beef and mushrooms. Well, it smelled good; hopefully, it would still taste as good.  
    Before she had the chance to taste it, however, there was a loud knock on the front door. Barney started barking in answer and ran towards the sound. Placing the lid back on the pot, she nudged Barney out of the way as she opened the door. She was greeted by a bouquet of white roses. At the