Chapter 14

CHAPTER14

“Why does your kind have so many clubs?” I ask as I pull at the dress that clings to my legs, wobbling just a little on my heels after the two bottles of wine I consumed at breakneck pace in Villa Datura. The witches of the Datura coven have been welcoming, sitting us down for drinks, setting us up in a guest house on the grounds, giving us clothes and casting a spell to hide Eryx’s wings for our jaunt to Club Caelum. They seemed pretty eager to point us in the direction of Cassian, which makes me think he’s already outstayed his welcome during his short residency.

I am not surprised.

Ediye laughs and loops her arm through mine as we teeter down the steep hills of Ravello. The still, shadowed air is filled with the scent of night blooming flowers and the sounds of humans speaking in animated Italian. “Maybe we witches just like to dance. Or maybe we like our alcohol. Maybe both.”

“Can confirm. Both are true,” I say, pulling at my dress again.

Ediye smacks my hand. “Stop fidgeting with it.”

“It’s just so fucking tight.”

“It’s supposed to be tight.”

“It feels like it’s been painted on for Christ sakes.” My borrowed heels are a half-size too big, my borrowed dress at least two sizes too small. The front is low and the back much, much lower. It’s black and sparkly, barely covering my ass or the dagger that I’ve strapped as high on my thigh as my anatomy will allow. It’s definitely club appropriate. It can also function as a napkin.

“You look hot. Tight is good.”

I roll my eyes. “Yours isn’t tight and you look fucking gorgeous,” I say, gesturing to her sparking turquoise dress. The neckline cuts low between Ediye’s breasts, her midnight skin on full display, glowing in the moonlight. Her dress is also short but looks decidedly more comfortable.

“Yeah, well. It might be good to remind Cassian of what he’s missed all these centuries if you want to convince him to follow you, even if it’s for his own benefit.”

“That is… that is an epically bad idea.”

Ediye laughs and grips my arm tighter, pulling me into her side. She glances behind us at Eryx and Cole, Davina following in their wake. Ediye tosses them a bright smile before zeroing in on the lights of the Club Caelum, a blocky stone building that looms ahead above the sea and beneath the stars.

“What’s that about?” I ask.

“What’s what about?”

“That.”

Ediye gives me an innocent look.

“That. That look. That smile.” I repeat, gesturing to the angel and demon that follow several meters behind us.

Ediye shrugs. “Nothing! Nothing. I was just checking that Eryx’s wings are still hidden.”

I snort a laugh.

“What?”

“Right. So it has nothing to do with you wanting to be part of a demon-angel man sandwich.”

Ediye guffaws an incredulous laugh that’s just a little too loud, giving her away. Her skin might be too dark for me to see her blush, but I can sense the rush of blood that floods the surface of her cheeks. “I do not,” she hisses.

“What would you even call that? A demwitchgelwich?”

Ediye can’t help but snicker. “No. The preferred term is a demglowstickelwitchelwich.”

We grin conspiratorially at one another and I grip Ediye a little tighter. Voices and laughter and music flow down the street like water, trickling away from the club. It feels like we’re part of the atmosphere here. It’s easy for the mortal world to seem like it passes around us sometimes. But hearing it so alive, like this, makes me feel as though we’re not so far beyond the reach of what makes life so precious. I smile a little wistfully and glance up at the star-riddled night as we walk on in silence.

“How are you feeling?” Ediye asks, her voice low and serious as she pats my hand.

My smile fades and I glance over at her. “Kinda shit to be honest. I shouldn’t have had that second bottle,” I admit, tapping my palm to my chest, hiding a burp in my fist. My buzzing headache hasn’t stopped since I woke up on the floor at Mr. Hassan’s, and I figured it best not  to mix some unknown elixir with booze since my preference was the latter. So the pain ebbs and flows, but it’s persistent and uncomfortable. The rest of me isn’t quite right either. Inexplicably off. I thought wine would take my mind off it, or at the very least would give me a decent reason to feel like crap. The latter it shall be, I guess.

“I meant about seeing Cassian,” Ediye says, though she looks me over with a worried glance. I think we were both hoping the procedure in Cairo would magically fix things. But that’s the funny thing about magic. Sometimes it’s not all that magical after all.

“Yeah, that. Good point. I dunno, a bit weird I guess?” I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about it, actually, which was the other reason for downing so much wine. But Ediye doesn’t press for more, just hums and nods as we draw to a halt beneath the blue lights of the Datura coven’s bar.

We wait for the others to catch up as we reach the entrance of Club Caelum, the doors flanked by two warlock bouncers. Aside from being a little on the big side, it’s not like the hulking warlocks look any different from the human patrons that wait in line or stumble as they leave, but I can sense the magic in them. It surrounds this place in a coating of spells so thick that the air almost shimmers. The staff have clearly been forewarned about our incoming visit and step back to let us pass.

The music swells around us on the scents of humans and potions and alcohol. Sweat and breath linger in the air. Voices and heartbeats surround me.

The space is dark, illuminated by the light show from the stage where a DJ performs. Ediye leads us through the boundary between the dancefloor and the high tables. A long bar flows like a curved wave to our left, the bartenders behind it lining up shots and shaking cocktails. We head for a set of stairs where another two bouncers guard a velvet rope that cordons off the VIP area. When they see us, they open the barrier and stand aside.

My heart starts to climb my throat with every step we take up the stairs. It’s been a very, very long time since I’ve seen Cassian, but I can still picture every inch of his skin. I can almost feel my fingers trace the deep scar that slices through his left brow and another smaller one, straight like the blade that made it, that cuts into his upper lip. Beautiful remnants of bloody battles.

A hot Roman warrior with tanned skin stretched over thick muscle? With big brown eyes that always looked like they were smiling, even when he was slashing guts and taking names? Yeah… We vampires notice that stuff. And we like it. So of course I was all in for that, back in the day. He was kinda psychotically hot.

I fell hard and fast.

It was only a month after I met him that I gave Cassian the offer and he accepted. I made him immortal. And at first he was pretty great. Until he wasn’t.

I really felt like I was catfished, you know? I was looking for a warrior to ride into battle at my side and instead I got the Tinder equivalent of a guy holding a fish. Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh… he did still kill some people. Fine, lots of people. But he was way more interested in rising through the political world, donning fancy clothes and going to fancy dinners and manipulating humans into doing his fancy-ass bidding.

It was borrrrinnnng.

I tried to convince myself it would get better once we were married and blood-mated. After all, Cassian did give me a pretty spectacular proposal that was very in-line with his tastes. We vampires do adore romantic gestures. I would have preferred something low-key and intimate, but, to his credit, he did put a lot of effort in. There were chariots of flowers. There were singers and children dancing down the street toward me like some kind of smelly little flashmob. He even made a play, for fucksakes, about a mythical woman that steals the soul of a simple soldier and yada, yada, yada, they live happily ever after, Leucosia will you marry me, THE END.

…….

………Yeah, it was about as cringe as it sounds.

But I said yes, of course. How can you not when a couple hundred people are watching you expectantly? And I was lonely, and I think we’ve firmly established that I do FUCKING STUPID SHIT when I’m lonely.

Plus he was hot, and he treated me very well. He never did anything egregious such as, I dunno, getting me locked in a dungeon and tortured for a month. He loved me and I loved him. Or at least I thought I did. Maybe just not enough.

So, I kinda… ran away. On my wedding day.

Yeah… those winds of fear really caught my sail all right. Enough so that I made my way east through the Imperial Provinces, traveling further and further over the centuries until I eventually wound up in Japan where I fought alongside Tomoe Gozen. There was a lot I could distract myself with back then. There were a great many douchebags around, so it’s not like food was in short supply either. Hunting was good and war took my mind off of what a douchebag I had been to the man that wanted to marry me.

Speaking of douchebags, I want my katana back from That Asshat Reaper Motherfucker.

Anyway, I did eventually suck it up a little and apologize by letter, and we kept in touch infrequently after that. I know, I know, still not great. I was a coward. A couple times I even vaguely reconsidered going back. But I didn’t. I never saw Cassian again. And as far as he ever knew, the rumor was true. The last of the sirens had died at the stake three hundred years ago.

So yeah, the look of shock on his beautiful face right now is definitely warranted.

Cassian sets his wine glass onto a side table. Barely. His hand seems disconnected from his brain. He stands, rising from a long leather couch where he’s seated across from two witches. He moves slowly. So slowly. “Leucosia?..”

“Hello, Cassian.” My smoky voice registers as foreign to his memory of what I should sound like. I can see it in the crease that forms between his brows.

He glances at the older of the two witches, a stunning woman with long, silver-streaked chestnut hair that drapes in waves across her shoulders. She looks confident. In control. Powerful.

The woman stands and walks toward us, extending her hand to me. I notice the subtle shift of her body into the empty space that connects me to Cassian. But her smile is welcoming and untroubled.

“Benvenuta, Leucosia,” she says with a creamy Italian accent. Her voice is wonderfully decadent. “My name is Bianca, and this is my daughter, Gianna.”

“Gigi,” the younger witch corrects, leaning to the side so she can offer a warm grin that’s striking in its similarity to her mother’s.

I smile and extend my hand to Bianca. Her warm fingers curl around mine.

And before I even realize what’s happening, she whips a long steel pin from behind her back and stabs me in the heart.

…The heart.

…The fucking heart….

“What the fuck,” I say, aghast. She draws the pin across her tongue, tasting my blood as Ediye grabs my arm and pulls me back. I hear the burst of hellfire across Cole’s blade. I look down at the trail of blood that leaks from my chest but I can feel the wound already knitting together from within. When I look back up to Bianca, her eyes have filmed over with swirling gray clouds.

But like… come on. “That’s a shitty way to say hello.”

“Sorry,” Gigi chimes with a cringe. “It’s the way that she sees.”

“My sincere apologies, vampira. We cannot be too careful these days,” Bianca says, her eyes clearing into a rich brown as she turns away to grab a napkin from a side table. She hands it to me with a benevolent smile, then casts her gaze over my shoulder to the others behind me. “Please, lower your weapons. I intended no harm.”

A doubtful puff of air escapes from my nose. “Find what you were looking for?” I ask, wiping my chest.

Bianca’s smile broadens. “That and so much more. Please, join us for a drink.” She sweeps a graceful arm toward the seats, then looks in the direction of a small but well-stocked bar. “Franco, prendi del sangue per la vampira.”

Now that it seems clear that I pose no threat, Cassian closes the space between us and envelops me in a hug. It feels both familiar and different, welcoming yet reserved. His body is unchanged by time but his scent is more modern now. Cologne and deodorant have brought us a long way since Roman times.

When he draws away, his smiling eyes take in my face. Again, that crease flickers between his brows. “You look different somehow,” he says, his English heavily accented with a more ancient quality than Bianca’s.

“I’ve been through some stuff lately.”

Bianca’s laugh floats around us. “Stuff.”

I guess she tasted a bit more than stuff. I meet her eyes but she only smiles.

“You look the same,” I say when I turn my eyes back to Cassian. And it’s true, he does. His chocolate-colored hair is a little longer than I remember, but his eyes still smile and his tanned skin still glows. Cassian’s gaze darts behind me and I pull away to let him go.

“Ediye, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” he says. The two exchange a warm greeting, kissing one another’s cheeks. We immortals tend to get around, and these two encountered each other centuries ago in Rome, before Ediye and I ever met. “Why am I not surprised you and Leucosia managed to find one another. Thick as thieves you are, I’m sure.”

“You’d be right,” Ediye replies with a smile. “Good to see you.”

The round of introductions extends next to Davina. I hear a stutter in the beat of Cassian’s heart when he takes her hand, but his greeting is delivered with effortless charm. To her credit, Davina stays reserved and unreadable. Pleasant, but not warm. Smart. I can’t fault her for wanting to give nothing away.

Once the full round of intros are made, we sit on the buttery leather couches and chairs. Bianca moves to a wingback that’s the equivalent of the head of the table and I take her former spot across from Cassian. A waiter brings a tray of glasses and another bottle of wine, along with a tall glass of blood for me. My attention darts toward Eryx but he’s unperturbed, thank fuck. I don’t think we’d make a very good impression if he passed out cold right now. And something in me thinks an impression is important to Bianca.

“Where is the other Reaper?” she asks. Her gaze points to me like a polished blade. I press my lips together and hide them behind the rim of my glass as my eyebrows climb toward my hairline with feigned innocence.

“Other Reaper?”

Bianca’s smile appears. It looks a little mischievous. “Your Reaper.”

“I don’t have a-”

“The one that saved you?”

“How-”

“The one to whom you are bloodfated?”

“Blood-what?”

“Tall. Dark hair. Well-dressed.”

“Blood-fated? I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“Vampira,” she purrs. The word is drawn out, full of both delight and admonishment. My cheeks are burning hot with a crimson blush. So much for a good impression. My mouth is gaping open like I’m a fish that’s been plucked from the sea, drowning on air. “Bloodfated. The more you take, the more your fates intertwine. But I’d say they’re pretty intertwined already, considering you knew from the first time you met. It was in your spell, after all.”

“Wh-what? I... spell… what?” This is truly not how I expected this conversation to go. I am so fucking thrown off course. Sweat mists my hairline and my headache surges.

“Saggiu Ashen hiu. Asallah libukkunu, assus martuktuk,” Bianca says, repeating my spell.

But I don’t hear it in her voice. I hear it in mine. The way mine used to be.

I blink and I’m there in the alley in Sanford, hovering over Ashen with my blood flowing into his wounded heart.

I hear his shallow breath beneath me. The viscous feeling of failure twists through my veins. My hand lays on my stomach where Ashen’s had been as he pulled me from the fight.

There was something that drew me to him. The reason I saved him. It was more than the camaraderie of battle. It was more than the injustice of a demon dying from a poison made of angel wings.

It was him.

It was a past that I could sense but not see. And it was a future that could be if I took a chance. If I accepted a great risk.

I blink and shake my head. Ediye squeezes my arm.

“Lu?..”

“I… I’m…” I glance down to my lap, momentarily grateful I didn’t piss myself this time. I turn my eyes to Bianca, trying to not look as panicky as I feel. I think I’m failing. Her smile broadens. Yep, I’m definitely fucking failing. “It’s not that way. That’s… bloodfated… that’s not a real thing. And I’m not fated to anyone,” I stammer out.

Bianca shrugs. “Perhaps. But worry not, vampira. I didn’t say you were fated to one another. I said your fates intertwine.”

Thank fuck.

“Though, more often than not, the former is also true.”

Christ sakes

“Yes, often love. Or death. Or both. Who knows? Fate is full of mystery.”

Goddammit.

“Bloodfated?” Eryx asks. He leans a little forward in his chair and I groan. His eyes twinkle when he meets my gaze. For real. The wrong balls got the glitter memo, because his eyeballs are properly sparkling. He’s fucking loving this.

Bianca raises her glass and brings it to her smile. “A sacred bond of fate in blood, unbroken by distance and time. Two souls, drawn together by a shared essence. It is not unlike Aristophanes’ dialogue on love in Plato’s Symposium. Two halves of a whole, separated by the gods, searching for their missing piece. Except, in reality, it is much rarer than Plato supposed.”

“So rare it’s actually a myth,” Ediye says.

Bianca looks at her and grins, but not without a hint of challenge. “For a powerful witch, I thought you would know better.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Eryx asks as his gaze shifts between us. “Mistoffelees? What does Cats have to do with this? I’m so confused.”

“Dio ci salvi tutti,” Bianca groans. Ediye properly chokes on her wine and spits it back into her glass. Gigi straight-up cackles. Cassian snickers until he looks at Davina, who watches him with a flat, assessing stare. “Not Mr. Mistoffelees. Aristophanes. The Athenian playwright. Let me guess - you’ve been an immortal for all of thirty seconds, sì? Modern education is so lacking. GesùCristo.”

Eryx sits back in his seat, visibly shrinking into the quilted leather.

“Plato wrote the Symposium as a philosophical dialogue on love,” Bianca explains, gesturing with fluid grace as she animates her tale. “In Plato’s work, Aristophanes presents the idea that the gods were angered by humankind’s arrogance, and thus Zeus split our bodies and souls in two. We were left to look for our missing halves, bereft. Once reunited, both individuals would be struck by kinship and humor and love. We would be restored to our ancient nature. Healed. Due anime diventano una.”

“And you think Lu and Ashen were what… two souls that were split somehow? And reunited?” Eryx asks, leaning forward again.

“Who knows?” Bianca says with a shrug. “Two ancient creatures, who trace back as far as we can map immortal existence, restless in themselves and in the world. Both broken and alone, now bound by blood in a bond that surpasses the confines of reason or magic. Two fates spiraling closer together with every drop of life shared. It certainly seems like a myth breathed to life, does it not?”

Bianca’s eyes land on me, passing right into my soul. Crystals of ice bloom beneath my skin.

I want to argue back and deny all her claims. I want to tell her that our bond died when Ashen did. I want to say that anything left behind was wrenched from my body when he watched as I was taken to the cage. It withered away in the dungeons of the Shadow Realm. I want to tell her how every needle and cut and burn and break had pulled our fates apart. How they had stolen from me, and anything left in a bond had to have died with everything they took.

But none of that would be the whole truth.

We may have unspooled, but somewhere, somehow, we are still tied. Whether by hurt or vengeance or love or death, we are tied.

I place my glass on the table. I sit back a little in my chair. I wanted the truth, and I got it. Part of it at least. I can feel it, as impossible as it could be. Ashen and me, our fates are bound, somehow. Whether those threads end at my destruction or his, or something else altogether, I don’t know. But we are part of a greater tapestry of lives on the brink of unraveling. I know that too. I feel the fates at the loom, spinning us into the mysteries of the realms.

“I need to find Valentina,” I say, not breaking my connection to Bianca. A smile lifts the corners of her lips.

“Give me two days.”

“We need to take Cassian with us too, before Semyon tracks him here.”

“Please do,” she says, her smile broadening as Cassian’s huff of irritation carries toward us.

My head feels clearer. My veins fizz, filling with a tingling hum. I stand, giving a nod to Bianca. “Two days.”

“Two days.”

“Where are you going?” Ediye asks. She looks between us, confused.

“Downstairs, to have a drink and have some fun while I can,” I reply, offering her a hand. She takes it and stands, the others following our lead and rising from their seats. My legs feel steadier when I turn away and walk toward the stairs.

I know the truth.

The Reaper is back in the Living Realm. And he’s coming for me.