9. Monster

9

MONSTER

L ucca and I listen, as Quinn tells us the full tale of when he was a Vampire. It’s been hours; still, we sit with him, stroking his back and holding his hand as he talks. We help him drink from our wrists whenever his story lists and his energy flags; gradually, I feel him come back to us as he unburdens himself.

As every atrocity he ever did under the ruthless Emiliana DiClario comes out, we witness. He tells us of every person he tortured and every crime he committed to keep himself and those he loved even the least bit safe under her rule, as I feel the darkness of it all startle even Quinn. He ceases his tale, ending with staking Emiliana that last fateful morning as he lay in bed with her, then takes a deep breath. As he heaves it out, I feel the relief that takes him.

And the wretchedness—that he’s burdened Lucca and me with all of this.

“So. Do you both hate me now?” Quinn says with the most awful sigh I’ve ever heard from him.

Though it’s also the most free I’ve ever heard him .

“I hear your tale of heartbreak and woe, Valerio Incendari.” Lucca’s voice is quiet as he sets one hand on Quinn’s shoulder and grips it, his other hand at his heart. “And I witness you, fully.”

It’s an arcane statement, something I’ve never heard in Fae culture before. But the sincerity of Lucca’s utterance makes Quinn go still. I feel him finally receive Lucca’s and my love, as it flows to him via our bonds with our blood running through his veins once more. His heart beats hard, then settles into its regal, slow beats. Quinn hitches a sigh, then pushes up from the covers.

Sitting up now and hauling the covers around his waist only for comfort, rather than hiding any longer.

“I don’t expect either of you ever to forgive me for what I’ve done.” Quinn glances at us. “Just know that I will writhe in my own hell always, to atone for the monster I was.”

“We don’t want you to atone, Quinn.” I grip his hand, squeezing it. “We want you to heal , and the only way you can do that, is by learning how to forgive yourself.”

“Easier said than done.” A wry smile takes Quinn. It’s only the barest lift of his lips, but I feel deep inside how he’s finally accepting Lucca’s and my love.

I’ll take it.

“Just tell me one thing, Quinn.” Lucca takes Quinn’s other hand and they glance at each other. “Did you like being that Vampire, the person you were under Emiliana?”

“Never.” Quinn shakes his head, as a wrathful fire comes into his eyes—the old fire of his Royal Summer Fae nature. “I never enjoyed abusing the innocent. I only enjoy wreaking retribution on my enemies. Staking Emiliana… I hate to say it, but it was the pinnacle joy of my Vampire life. Until I met and bonded the two of you. Lucca, for the second time.”

“We will not excuse you for everything you did,” I grip his hand, impressing Lucca’s and my position. “But you were the Vampire that situation made you. You got out as soon as you could. ”

“I did.” Quinn heaves a deep breath and nods. As he closes his eyes, I at last feel the barest edge of self-forgiveness wash through him. It’s not a cool wave of ease, but a hot sweep of fire that flows through Quinn, cleansing him. A sweet blossom of red-gold flame breathes from him, flowing over the bed and along the floor of the now-dark Moon Dome.

We’ve talked our way through the day, back into the twilight. As the stars and moon come out far above and Quinn’s slow, beautiful fire goes roiling along the floor and bed, I feel everything inside me rejoice.

Lucca brightens also, a beautiful love filling his blue eyes as he watches Quinn’s fire. There’s almost no darkness in Quinn’s flames right now. Something inside Quinn is finally healing, his inner darkness lessening as it gives way to his real Dark Fae nature.

At last.

Though he’ll always have a far stronger Night element to him than either Lucca or me, I feel how what we’re experiencing now is more the real Quinn than the man he’s had to be as a Vampire for eons. This fire is regal, deep, and purposeful as it flows around the bed now, touching everything but burning nothing in its serenity. Because there are no enemies here for his mystical fire to kill.

Only love to help it heal, as Lucca and I join hands—sealing us in our trio.

Quinn’s magic heats like wildfire now as I pour my love for him through our bonds, and Lucca joins me. As Quinn accepts our brightness and love, something shines in him.

His dark eyes burn; his aura explodes in the night, a deep wave of crimson-gold firelight blazing through the ice dome beneath the rising moon and deepening stars. The flickers of darkness in it are only wrathful towards our enemies now, as something in Quinn heals. Not all of him is mended yet; but with that impressive wave of magic, I know his healing has begun.

Beautiful in the twilight.

As we all hold hands beneath the oncoming stars and moon, my dark rainbows and Lucca’s bright ones surge out now, joining Quinn’s beautiful dark fire. I feel our bonds renew in that moment as we gaze into each other’s eyes, letting our powers expand and merge in the deepening night.

Because the twilight is a Dark Fae’s time, as all our magics surge to be together beneath the rising stars and moon, and the white nimbus that devours the rim of the Twilight sky. We revel in each other, drinking it all in, returned to one another and ourselves, at last. I feel a sudden new bond form in us, then.

As a beautiful chime of the Music rings all the way through us.

Tuning perfectly beneath the twilight stars and moon like a bell, it writes the most beautiful, ephemeral sigil in the air now between us. My breath catches as I see it; it blazes free and wild in our world and that Ascendant otherworld as Lucca’s lips fall open and Quinn’s eyes burn at what we all accomplished as a trio.

Bare in our honesty for the first time, now that Quinn’s come clean about everything he kept hidden, that sigil is powerful and infinitely lovely as it sings between us all. Writing and re-writing itself in the air, it shimmers like bright smoke between us, filled with a pure, cosmic fire.

This is the power of the Archangels, I understand as I see that sigil in my mind’s eye also, flaring bright in the otherworld, though it only glimmers sweetly in ours. I feel the power of this creationary magic as it reaches a confluence inside us, writing a sensation of acceptance and understanding deep into my heart.

Along with a sweet feeling of love.

“My gods.” Quinn breathes as that sigil finally shimmers away beneath the cathedral’s moonlight. “Did you all understand that, just now?”

“ Acceptance, understanding, love .” Lucca releases a breath, slow. He blinks in amazement, like a sleeper waking as I gently release his hand, rubbing my chest from the power of what that sigil just wrote within me.

Same as it gave to Lucca and Quinn.

“Did we create that sigil?” I shake my head at the immensity of what we’re all feeling. “Or did it just create us? ”

“A bit of both, I think,” Quinn says, as a thoughtful light comes into his dark eyes. “For the power of the Ascendants both creates and is created by . As we create this kind of Music in the world, it also creates us. To fully become that which we momentarily manifested. Until we can do it again, and again, and again.”

“Until you can be it, Quindici DaPonti. Forever.” A rough voice interrupts, as Master Ilyov steps up to the bed. We all startle, none of us having felt it when Ilyov portaled himself inside our enclave in his wintery winds. He raises a hand for us to not rise, as I feel how calm his energy is.

Serene, as he pulls up a chair to the edge of the bed, and sits.

Watching us with a level gaze tonight, rather than wrath.

“You begin to write true sigils of love in the universe.” Vasily Ilyov sets his elbows on the arms of his chair, steepling his fingers and crossing his knees as he watches us. As if his energy was somehow monitoring this space for this very occurrence, he is alert now as he evaluates our trio.

Then gives the softest, saddest smile.

“I envy you, milord DaPonti,” Master Ilyov says, as his gaze flicks to Quinn. “For you do not have just one true love in your lifetime, but two. Do not squander it; for such a blessing is given to few. Especially to those of our Mentale Dark Fae persuasion.”

“Your wife must have been quite a woman,” Quinn says, as I feel an accord pass between him and Ilyov. “I am sad I never got to meet her.”

“The Gold Eyes is not sad he killed her.” Vasily Ilyov recovers with a snap, as he lifts an eyebrow at Quinn, then me and Lucca. “At last, the three of you are manifesting the true Music of the Spheres, liberated of the Gold Eyes’ taint—and you are aware of what you are doing. The gold-eyed creature cannot manifest true love in the world; perhaps it could once, before it fell and ruined itself, but it can no longer. Always, its sigils of the Music twist towards power , ambition , and dominance . The only way you three can beat it is to do what you just did now; to find your rock bottom, and stand in your tenderest place, admitting everything of what you are in your barest intimacy, and trusting it is right. Because the ego never wishes to admit its darkest places. But you all must go there, and discover what lurks beneath all your powers, lusts, and ambitions. Only by standing in your quietest, most tender and intimate place can you overcome that which shouts loudest. The ego will always lust for power and dominate. But the heart , the true center of everything you are in the universe, will only find real power when it is allowed to feel its wounds and flood open. Only then will the quietest voice inside you emerge. With all the creation of the universe behind it, free of the ego’s taint.”

“The Gold Eyes removed its heart when it committed that part of itself to Florence, didn’t it?” I say as my deepest truth-telling ability rings strong inside me. “It removed the true seat of itself, its heart… and became only ego after that.”

“Lust, power, desire; craving, dominance, greed.” Master Ilyov nods. “These are the ego-only sides of what we try to get to with our actual feelings and heart—true love. The Gold Eyes has only ego-emotions left, and their manifestations in the world; it can no longer access its heart. Which is where you three may vanquish it. But only if you are strong enough to lose—everything your ego always thought it wanted.”

As Master Vasily Ilyov stares at each of us, I feel his words sink deep into my very soul. Because I feel the truth of everything he’s telling us ring through me like a symphony now, as I understand the Gold Eyes’ lack of heart is its weakness.

But Quinn, Lucca, and even I have vast agendas in the world that we’re loathe to give up. I feel that knowledge churn through Quinn and Lucca now as they ponder what it means to still love those we care about with all our hearts, but to give up our agendas of power among our people.

Even my agenda of finding justice for the Dark Fae feels sour in my mouth after experiencing the true power of what the Music just wrought between us. I’m tempted to sink into feelings of retribution, though I try to understand what is judgement versus true justice.

Because a dark sensation boils inside me, deep within my Dark Fae power. I know I have the Gold Eyes’ black void inside my very nature. That part of me wants all those who have wronged the Dark Fae to suffer for their crimes, as that feeling makes my power seethe.

I rub my chest now, as my inner darkness screams with the Gold Eyes’ disastrous taint.

“I want justice for the Dark Fae,” I say, as I feel the Gold Eyes’ influence in my Dark Fae power and watch my energy curl through the otherworld —void and black. “But what my magic wants is to punish everyone who ever wronged us. Terribly.”

“Yes.” Ilyov nods, his pale eyes glinting in the moonlight. “That is your ego, the darkest side of your power, which the Gold Eyes controls, speaking for you. If you could do anything for the Dark Fae, young Animante , to make our lives better, what would you do?”

“Forgive. Live and let live,” I say at once, as something sings inside me like the brightest truth-bell now, flooding my world with sound and color and light instead of that void-like, awful darkness. “I would manifest love in the world and let it reach out, overcoming the darkness simply by the nature of what it is.”

“And that is why you are an Animante Dark Fae.” Ilyov nods, affixing me in his gaze. “Because you balance all powers inside yourself… and find only the truth beneath it all. You discover the quietest true heart with your magic, through all the storms the ambitions of both Light and Night can bring.”

As I sit with Ilyov’s statement about my power, I feel how it sings true inside me. That doesn’t help Quinn and Lucca, however, as Quinn heaves a hard sigh, setting his jaw.

“I still don’t see how any of this aids us in helping our people, if we cannot rise to power and lead our respective Lineages.” Quinn watches Ilyov. “To continue letting Archivolio Bellari lead the Summer Fae, and the current Vampire Council lead the Vampires, leaves all our people in deep distress, not to mention the Dark Fae. Though Lucca and I are no longer Vampire and Summer Fae, and haven’t been for centuries, I’m aware of the precedent of Dark Fae having led other Lineages of Fae and Vampires in the past. But now you tell us we must divorce ourselves of those goals, letting our agendas become a lost cause, in order to find our true might?”

“I’m telling you that you must divorce yourself from the ego within you, which has driven those goals, Quindici DaPonti.” Master Ilyov lifts a curt eyebrow now. “Not abandon your heart. Figure out the difference…or watch everything you love die when the Gold Eyes makes his final move known.”

With that, Master Ilyov rises, giving us one last stern eyeball. Before he can swirl himself up in his wintery winds once more, however, another presence rushes into the room. It’s Curio, hastening to the bed with Clariss fast on his heels. Both have a terrible look in their eyes as they halt, Clariss staring down her father with a furious gaze.

Curio’s pinning Quinn.

“Quinn. An urgent message has come from the Red Letter Hotel Florence,” Curio says as his gaze digs into Quinn. “They’re under attack by the Vampire Council. It started tonight at sundown. Devi says the Council’s forces have breached the Hotel’s outer wards. There’s been fighting in the halls, and she and Arturos have already had to relinquish several strongholds within the Hotel itself. The Council is capturing our Vampires left and right, rather than killing them. It seems like a takeover rather than a purge, though Devi doesn’t know yet who is taking them over. Our forces that are left are pulling back into the Underground. But the Council’s drive has been overwhelming, featuring Masters on the Council itself…”

Though Curio doesn’t explain how he got this message, I presume he and Devi still share some kind of mind-link that Quinn’s now cut off from himself and me, since he relinquished his connection to the Dark Haven of Florence.

As shock fills Quinn, Lucca, and me now at what Curio just told us, I also feel how Quinn isn’t shocked at all. As he sets his jaw, a hard sensation fills him. It’s like how he used to become like stone, immaculate in his stillness. Except this stillness burns, as I see every one of his veins fill up with crimson-gold wildfire.

It twists through his entire body as it fills his eyes—consuming him.

“Kick a wasp’s nest and watch them sting,” Quinn comments now as that living darkfire fills him. “How long does Devi think she and the rest can hold out?”

“Arturos is with them, and his magic is holding some of the Council off…” Curios says, though the look in his blue eyes is dire. “But without you? Not long.”

“Then we must go,” Quinn says, as I feel certainty fill him. Because although he knows we should stay in Novakitsk and continue to figure out our power with Master Ilyov as he recovers from his Revenant state, the one thing Quinn cannot lose is the Red Letter Hotel Florence and his Dark Haven. I feel his true heart burn inside him then, as the thing he really loves fills him, his Dark Haven, and everyone who lives there.

All precious to him—and his to protect.

But even as Quinn makes to rise from the bed with Lucca’s and my help, Clariss pins her father with her gaze.

“Father,” she says, her voice urgent. “Quinn’s leaving may be difficult. Our outer obscuration sphere has been breached by a massive force. A force of terrible dark magic, Vampire in nature. I fear Quinn did more than kick the wasp’s nest; he stomped on it and tossed it about, then pissed on it just for spite. If what I’m feeling is right, the Vampire Council has traced his whereabouts and sent a collection party to come get him. Or kill him… and wipe us all out in the process.”

“Damn.” Vasily Ilyov steeples his hands beneath his chin, frowning for a long moment. Everyone in the cathedral is breathless as we wait for his pronouncement.

“To the walls,” Ilyov says then. “Let us see this force of Master Vampires… and whether they have the power to broach Novakitsk, once and for all. ”

Master Vasily Ilyov summons his wintery winds with a flick of his fingers. As an overwhelming, icy gale devours us, we’re all whisked away with him this time, to the high walls of Novakitsk.

Where we look down upon a gargantuan force, approaching on the icy plane beneath the moonlight.