10. The Rosewood

CHAPTER 10

The Rosewood

B rynleigh's heart raced as she stared at the powerful water fae in his element. Ryker's arms were extended, his fingers stretching skyward as magic flowed from his hands. Powerful. Strong. Dangerous.

The storm clouds churned.

Her fingers curled into fists, and her breath came in short bursts. Her legs trembled.

Flashes of another storm went through her mind. Screams. Cries. Water. So much fucking water. It was everywhere. Her sister, drowning.

Oh gods.

She'd somehow never considered what it would be like to witness Ryker unleash the power he kept beneath his skin.

A tremor ran through her, and she swayed.

This is not that night. You are not in danger.

Ryker wouldn't hurt her… right? He hadn't killed her when he had the chance, and he hadn't left her in the dungeon.

She wasn't entirely certain she was safe, but she couldn't stay here forever.

Drawing a deep breath, Brynleigh took a trembling step off the porch. The rain hadn't fallen yet, but the clouds were close to bursting.

When she didn't collapse into a ball of tears after the first step, she took another. And another. And another.

Soon, she was halfway to the water fae.

Magic trickled over Brynleigh's skin at some point, and she walked through the wards surrounding the property. She barely noticed them, her attention never straying from Ryker.

She would've thought he was a statue if not for the power rippling from his hands.

He funneled magic into the sky.

More, more, more, until it seemed practically impossible that he still had magic left within him.

And then he roared .

Like waves crashing against rocks, the sound went on and on and on.

Tinged with grief and despair and anguish, Ryker's cry wrapped around Brynleigh's heart and squeezed like a vise.

She had caused this. Once again, she'd brought him pain. How many more times would they hurt each other?

The ocean between them expanded until it seemed like it would swallow her whole. She would drown in her grief, forever lamenting the love they'd once shared.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed before he fell silent, but eventually, his voice cracked and then stopped.

The silence was louder than his roar.

Ryker's arms fell to his sides, and he drew his power towards him. The storm clouds receded, the lightning stopped, the mist disappeared, and the traces of magic vanished.

He straightened, throwing back his shoulders.

Brynleigh's heart raced as Ryker turned. Even though there were no visible weapons on his person, she was sure he was armed.

His face was blank as if he hadn't just been on the brink of losing control .

"Ready?" His voice was hoarse, and his eyes were dark with the same clouds that had been swirling overhead.

Apparently, they were going to ignore his storm. That worked for her—she had enough on her mind already.

Brynleigh checked the wall around her heart—it was still in one piece, thank Isvana—and nodded. "Yes. Let's get this over with."

Closing the distance between them, she stopped a few feet from the captain. The sooner she did this job, the better.

"Moving through shadows can make some people feel sick," she warned. "Don't let go."

She wasn't entirely certain what would happen to Ryker in the Void if she wasn't holding onto him, but instinct told her it would be bad.

"I won't."

Ryker didn't move, though.

Awkward. This was so gods-damned awkward.

Wishing for the ease that had existed between them during the Choosing, Brynleigh raised her hand.

"We… We have to be touching." She swallowed past the dryness that had suddenly appeared in her throat. "For this to work."

His gaze dropped to her outstretched hand, and he clenched his jaw.

Had he not known contact was required?

Brynleigh had realized it the moment he declared he was coming with her.

They hadn't touched yet. Not really.

She could still remember the world-altering impact of their first touch, and she was equally excited and petrified to see if that spark remained between them after… everything.

Ryker inhaled, and his face hardened as though he was preparing himself. After several long moments, he finally moved.

It seemed to take him ages to cross the divide between them and put his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together.

Brynleigh's heart seized at the familiarity of the gesture. Ryker was warm, whereas she was cold. Calloused where she was soft. His hand enveloped hers, and…

Oh gods, the sparks remained.

She almost hated them for still being present after everything they'd been through.

Was she the only one feeling this way?

She glanced up at him and frowned. His face was blank. The only sign that the touch affected him was the slight feathering of his jaw.

Maybe he didn't care anymore. And maybe… maybe she should try to do the same.

After all, she was just an asset.

With that depressing thought in mind, Brynleigh called on her shadows. They curled lovingly around her, cloaking them in darkness.

"Hold on," she reminded him again.

In response, Ryker's fingers pulsed around hers.

Her stupid heart fluttered at the action.

She didn't have time to focus on her feelings. Instead, she drew on her darkness and pulled them into the Void.

One moment, they were in the forest. The next, they were passing through the emptiness that belonged to vampire-kind.

Darker than the night itself, light never existed here. Stars were a foreign concept. Life did not have a place in the In Between. There was nothing but shadows and darkness and flickers of power.

Brynleigh had heard tales that the goddess of the moon inhabited the Void, but she'd never been to Isvana's moonlit palace. No one had, except the Sunwalking Queen, many millennia ago.

Ryker's breaths came in short bursts as Brynleigh pulled them through the Void. This method of travel wasn't kind to most non-vampires. True to his word, his grip was like iron around hers.

She glanced at him, the darkness not impeding her vision, and her lips slanted down. Sweat was beading on his forehead, his skin was paler than normal, and a pained grimace twisted his beautiful mouth.

"We're almost there," she murmured, wishing she could urge the shadows to move faster.

He grunted, squeezing her hand.

Several more seconds went by before the shadows delivered them to their destination. The darkness melted away, leaving them in an alley.

The moment they were on solid ground, Ryker disentangled their fingers and stepped away from Brynleigh.

Her heart twisted at his obvious rejection.

Ryker crossed his arms and studied the alley. "Where are we?"

He was looking better now that they were out of the Void.

"Can't you feel it in the air?" Brynleigh pulled the collar of her sweater away from her skin, the heat making her regret her clothing choices. "We're in Sandhaven."

The southernmost metropolis in the Republic of Balance, Sandhaven was the oldest still-standing city in the entire continent. Founded during the Rose Empire by the seventh Empress, it was still a thriving city.

And it was hot .

Even now, with the moon high in the sky, it felt like they were standing in an oven. The air smelled of sand, heat, and sweat. Pockets of light dotted the street beyond the alley, sirens wailed in the distance, and the wind carried faint streams of music from the Rosewood into the hot evening.

It looked and sounded the same as the last time Brynleigh had been here, but something was different.

Brynleigh was different. Or maybe it was the fae beside her. Either way, nothing was the same.

"Let's go." She wanted to get this over with. Usually, she didn't mind shedding a little blood, but tonight, the thought didn't thrill her as much as usual.

Yes, Ryker's presence definitely threw a wrench into things.

She was halfway down the alley, her boots clicking on the cobblestones, when the fae's hand landed on her arm.

Now, he touched her willingly.

Of course.

"What's your plan?" Ryker asked gruffly.

Wasn't it obvious?

"I'm going to do what I always do. I'll enter the Rosewood, find Tathdel Crystalis, and kill him."

Easy. Simple. Quick. It was her favorite way to work. In and out, without any complications.

Ryker stared at her. His mouth pinched in a line, his eyes darkened, and his grip tightened.

"You speak of death so easily." He shook his head. "Doesn't it bother you?"

Did he really care?

She could have shaken him off, but instead, she considered his question.

"I… it used to," Brynleigh admitted.

Her first kill had been a few weeks after her Making, and it had haunted her for months.

His gaze searched hers. "And now?"

What did he want her to say? That she laid awake at night, thinking about the people she killed? That was rarely true. Now, she lay awake thinking about him.

"Not anymore," she admitted.

Crimson stained her soul.

Besides, she only killed people deserving of her brand of justice. None of them were innocent, and she was doing the world a favor by getting rid of them.

Ryker looked like he wanted to say more, but in the end, he just nodded. "Okay. I'll follow your lead."

That was the end of their conversation. What else was there to say?

There was no time to be upset about this. She lifted her chin. The time for talking was over. Exuding confidence, she sauntered down the moonlit street. Her shoulders were back, she stood tall, and her face was blank.

True to his word, Ryker remained behind her, a silent shadow.

The familiarity of this moment was comforting in a strange way. Right now, Brynleigh wasn't a vampire who'd recently been tortured. She wasn't a broken-hearted woman.

She was a killer with a purpose, and she was damned good at her job.

From the outside, the Rosewood looked like every other building in this part of the city: three stories, red bricks, blackened windows. The only difference from the rest of the block was the burly werewolf in a suit guarding the entrance.

He raised a brow as they approached, his orange eyes glittering in the darkness. "Card?"

Names weren't done at The Rosewood.

It was one of the reasons Brynleigh hadn't been too worried about coming here—even if she and Ryker were recognized as participants of the Choosing, it wouldn't matter. If Jelisette asked why Brynleigh took Ryker to The Rosewood, she would claim she was using him as a cover. It wasn't exactly a lie.

Everything that happened in The Rosewood remained within its four walls. It was a temple, and secrets were the god its parishioners worshipped.

Identities were never revealed, which made The Rosewood the perfect place for high-powered Representatives to conduct unsavory business away from prying eyes. It fronted as a high-end dining establishment, but its true purpose was an open secret.

Brynleigh pulled out the phone Jelisette had given her and navigated to the second file. She tapped on it, and a black card with golden filigree borders filled the phone screen.

On the right side was an unfurling rose, and on the left was the phrase, When the night blooming roses wilt, the moon will never rise again.

A bit morose if you asked Brynleigh, but she wasn't the one who had come up with the phrase .

She handed the phone to the werewolf. He studied the card carefully before flicking his eyes over to Ryker. "He's with you?"

"He is," she said.

Another minute passed before the guard returned the phone.

"Have a good evening, miss. The Rosewood welcomes you."

Stepping back, he opened the door.

Tucking the phone into her pocket, Brynleigh strode forward.

Warmth at her back told her Ryker was following. Together, they entered the darkened establishment.

It was time to do what she did best.

The main floor of The Rosewood was everything one would expect from a fine-dining restaurant.

A beautiful Light Elf with raven hair and a lyrical voice sang onstage. Servers dressed in black delivered food and drinks. Fae, werewolves, elves, witches, shifters, and humans sat clustered around dimly lit tables and booths, speaking in hushed tones.

Brynleigh ignored them all. Navigating around tables, she headed straight for the thick black curtain at the other end of the room.

Tathdel's file had noted the man's penchant for flogging, and there was only one room in The Rosewood that catered to that specific kink.

No one so much as glanced their way.

If Ryker thought The Rosewood was strange, he didn't comment on it.

Brynleigh pushed back the velvet curtain, revealing a dark, spiral stone staircase.

If the main floor was a fine restaurant, this was more akin to the entrance of a dungeon from the Four Kingdoms. A cold breeze blew past, and she shivered as she descended the steps.

An unmarked door waited at the bottom.

An aura of danger surrounded this place, and her skin prickled. Her shadows writhed, warning her to be careful. She released a few of them, allowing them to wind protectively around her arms and legs.

Though they hadn't spoken to anyone, others were here.

Someone was always watching in The Rosewood. The guards wouldn't bat an eye or interfere with anything unless the right people called them at the right time.

The Rosewood valued secrets more than lives.

"Are you sure about this, Brynleigh?" Ryker's voice was gruff as he broke his silence. "There might be another way."

Of course, now his conscience decided to make an appearance.

Brynleigh should have known this would happen. The captain was too good for this kind of thing. There was a difference between killing in war and… this .

Still, his judgment rankled her.

Brynleigh's hand rested on the knob. "This is the only way. It's my life or his." When Ryker didn't reply, she added, "I have to do this. Remember the deal? It's not my fault that you decided to come with me."

Part of her was glad that he was here. He was about to see firsthand what he'd signed her up to do. If the killing bothered him, he could've stayed away and remained oblivious.

Without waiting for a response, Brynleigh opened the door and entered the dark corridor.

Violet Light Elf sconces on the walls gave off a faint lavender glow. Cold air prickled the skin on her arms. Inky carpet absorbed the sound of their footsteps.

Mentally preparing for the task ahead, Brynleigh ensured the wall around her heart was sturdy.

The long, winding hallway was home to several numbered doors. Each room housed different desires, kinks, and secrets. None of them bothered Brynleigh—as long as everyone was consenting.

Behind the first, moans and cries of pleasure could be heard. In the next room, a man was begging for someone to "give it to him," reiterating that he'd been a bad boy. The third was silent, save for the rhythmic slapping of flesh against flesh.

With each door they passed, each step they took, Ryker inched closer to Brynleigh. She wasn't sure he was aware he was doing it.

The fourth and fifth doors were ominously silent, and they stopped in front of the sixth. The cracking of a whip and the whimper that followed confirmed this was the right room.

Brynleigh exchanged a look with Ryker.

"Stand back and don't interfere, no matter what happens," she warned, taking in his tense form and clenched fists. "Jelisette doesn't accept failure."

Unease was carved into every part of Ryker's being, and he was tense, like a storm cloud moments away from bursting.

Brynleigh shuddered, recalling how his magic had lashed out of him earlier.

"I understand," Ryker said in his baritone voice.

She searched his gaze for a long moment before sighing. "You don't, but you will."

Despite Ryker's presence here, Brynleigh didn't think he was fine with any of this.

Ryker enjoyed rules and rarely broke them—except for covering up his sister's involvement in the destruction of Chavin, apparently—and Brynleigh doubted he would be okay with what she was about to do.

If they were in a better place, Brynleigh would assure him that she would kill Tathdel quickly and cleanly. She would remind him that this was a place of secrets, and their presence wasn't strange, even when they left a dead body in their wake.

She would remind him that she was strong and in control and that even with the presence of spilled blood, she wouldn't fall into bloodlust.

That trap that some Fledglings fell into felt further away than ever. She thought it might be because of what she'd endured in The Pit. It wasn't exactly a silver lining, but she'd take it.

Brynleigh didn't say any of that, though .

That ocean still divided them, and those words seemed too far away. Instead, she placed her hand flat on the knob and called on her shadows. They wormed inside the mechanism, and within a few minutes, a telltale click came from the lock.

This skill didn't work on all doors—Jelisette warded the locks in her house against shadows—but luckily, it worked here.

Brynleigh pulled back her hand, drew in a deep breath, and twisted the knob.

She was a creature of the night, and this was her calling.

Death had come to The Rosewood.