Chapter 10

RED

D espite what happened in the tunnels, Octavia and I haven't said a word to each other during the entire carriage ride. We caught one as soon as we could and have been racing towards Castle St Clair. The terrain underneath the wheels evens out. We must be near the castle station. I decide to break the silence.

"What happened in the tunnels can't happen again."

Octavia glances up at me, her face falling. "I… oh, I see."

"We're not good for each other."

"You're wrong," she says.

"Am I?"

"All I've ever done is try to protect you. Try to do what's best for you." She runs a hand through her hair.

"What you've done is martyr yourself, Octavia, because you'd rather sacrifice yourself and put yourself in pain than admit someone loves you. Someone thinks you're enough."

Her expression goes blank.

"See? You can't even face the fact that no matter how fucked off I am with you, I am still here. Still choosing you and you are refusing to do the right thing. Why can't you do the thing that will save us and give me my memories back?"

"I…" she starts. But I already know she's not going to do what I want. My chest tightens, and I tear my gaze away from her.

"How do you expect me to be with someone who won't tell me the truth?" I say as the carriage slows; we must be pulling into the station.

"I can't. You don't understand," she whines.

I hitch off the seat and lean forward, taking her hands in mine as I kneel at her feet.

"Then make me. Explain it so I do understand, because the way I see it, you're the one breaking us apart."

She pulls her fingers out of mine and stares out of the carriage window. "We're here."

"Mother of Blood, Octavia," I whisper, and I step out of the carriage. Octavia is behind me in a blink.

I press my lips into a thin line. My nostrils flare. "I'm not going to run. Not again."

"You promise?"

I nod. "I understand we can't be too far from each other. But… I don't want to be near you right now. You're going to have to accept that I need space. Or we break the b?—"

Octavia holds her hand up to interrupt me.

"Impossible. One doesn't break a bond, and the answer would be no, even if I could break it."

"Then you need to give me space."

She stands a little straighter, her brow furrows, her lips thin. Something I can't read washes through her eyes, and then her face morphs and becomes devoid of emotion.

"As you wish," she gives me a curt nod and walks off towards the castle door.

I slump against the carriage and wipe my face. My mind is racing with a maelstrom of thoughts. Octavia tickles Rumblegrit under the chin before depositing what seems like more than a required offering of blood and slides the mansion door shut behind her. Even that confuses me. She never used to treat the gargoyles with kindness; she's changing for the better. And while I breathe easier now she's away from me, the space hasn't made me feel any better. Our connection is soul deep, and it's not just the swirling confusion but the tug of hurt in the bond that consumes me.

I am pissed, disappointed and a million other things, yet I still want to be near her, with her. It's twisting me up inside.

Is this love? Is this healthy?

I don't think I can be with someone who lies to me like this. Someone who betrays me. She holds all the power because she took it from me. How can I be with someone like that when she stands for everything I hate?

I don't want to be trapped inside another building after spending the last few hours in the carriage, so I meander around the castle grounds. My feet carry me past the stables. That's when I notice Sadie. I stiffen. She makes me uneasy.

I think it's the calmness that pervades her entire being despite the horror stories of her past. Screaming herself mute night after night until she lost her voice. They say the scar that Cordelia has on her cheek was from a bite Sadie gave her.

One horse whinnies as Sadie passes the stable. She turns to face the animal, staring it right in the eye. The horse clops back, raising its head and dropping it in a rhythmic motion. It neighs and then goes quiet.

All the while, Sadie hasn't moved. She's staring the horse down like a lion to its prey. She's vampire still, her eyes locked onto the horse.

A line of goosebumps shivers over my arms as I watch her interact with the animal. Exactly what kind of game is she playing? Gods, there's something mildly unhinged about her.

Eventually, the horse sticks its head back over the stable door, and she unfreezes and pats its velvety nose.

She wraps her arms around its neck and leans into its ear almost like she's whispering to it. I shift foot to foot, and a twig snaps underneath my feet. Sadie stands bolt upright and turns to find me. It makes me feel like a trespasser.

Her eyes lock onto mine and narrow. She's motionless, yet an ocean of darkness swims in her expression. It makes me wonder what's truly beneath the surface.

I edge away. But she's already charging across the yard towards me, her gaze fixed on me the way it was on the horse. I shiver.

I glance at the path I came down. I could turn back, probably should. Instead, I step towards her.

Why the hell I would want to be caught near a St Clair on my own, at night, when they're my competition, I've no clue. But here we are.

She halts. Waits for me to come to her, fucking entitled. Just like the rest of the St Clair's. Why should they come to you when you can go to them?

But regardless, I step toward her. She stares at me the whole time, patiently waiting for me to reach her.

"Hi," I wave, knowing that she uses sign.

"Hi," she waves. Her expression is open, friendly. The opposite of what it was facing that horse. I wonder if it's a ruse, whether she's waiting for me to turn my back so she can drain me and eliminate the competition?

"Shouldn't you be with Octavia in the castle?" she says. Or I think she does. My signing is a little lacklustre. It's been a while since one of my students spoke in sign.

I take a second to process what she said.

"Ah. Yes. I, umm… I have to get back to her, you're right."

Her eyes narrow further at me. She doesn't buy the bullshit I'm selling. It occurs to me then that she works in the church, with the spirit, with the fibre of our beings, and that perhaps she could give me back the memories Octavia stole.

"Can I ask you an answer?" I sign.

She frowns at me.

I try again. "Can. I. Ask. You. An. Answer?"

She smirks. "You mean question?" she signs correctly.

"Shit. Yes. A question," I half say half gesture as I mimic her hand movements. Signing is coming back to me now.

"Sure," she shrugs.

"In the church, you guys focus on spirit stuff, right?" I ask.

She bites her lip as if trying to suppress a smirk. "Yes, we do spirit stuff."

"Gods, sorry, I'm not being very polite. What I mean is, do you work with people's minds?"

"Sort of," she signs.

"Could you tell if someone's memories have been messed with?"

That earns me a tilt of her head as she examines my expression. "Yes. Do you mean compulsion?"

I shake my head, not understanding the word.

She rolls her eyes at me and signs slower. "Com-pul-sion."

"Yes. That. Can you help someone get them back?"

She folds her arms, making me wait while she decides whether to tell me what I want to know. She pauses long enough I shift on the spot, uncomfortable with the silence. But as I drag my gaze from her, she unclasps her hands and answers.

"Yes, I can tell what has happened to a mind, what damage has been done and get the memories back, though it is much more reliable and better for the person in question to have the original vampire who took them give them back to them. Now, tell me why you want this information."

That's a lot of signing, and she doesn't speak slowly, so I take a hot second to interpret what she said.

"Nothing in particular," I say, deciding it's quicker to speak and let her do the signing.

She huffs at me, and her fingers fly again. "I guess I have nothing to tell you then." She turns away, her flowing black dress drifting in the night breeze.

"Wait."

"Something you want to share?" she signs.

I grit my teeth. No. I look away. She touches my chin, tilts it up to face her. She's tall like Octavia.

"Don't come to me asking for help and then lie to me." Her expression is cold enough to crack bones and freeze summers.

I swallow hard. Decide to change the topic.

"I wondered if there was ever an occasion when memory wipes and compulsions don't work?"

She laughs. It's whispery and indignant. "Only one I can think of…" she steps back smiling, but instead of making her face radiate joy and light, it makes her face dark and sinister. Like a void sucking in everything, every emotion, every secret, all light and love.

I shiver, and she lets go of my chin. But the cool press of her thumb lingers.

"Wh-what's the only occasion?" I ask, not at all sure I want the answer.

"Bonding. A piece of our soul binds to a piece of the person's we bond to. Magic that controls in this way doesn't work on one's bonded."

"Other magic might?"

She shrugs. "Healing, perhaps. Maybe magic from other cities. Why? You haven't found yourself recently bonded… have you? "

She leans in, drawing out the signed gestures on the last words.

"Obviously not," I roll my eyes, sending every ounce of will I have to my heart, praying it doesn't betray me by speeding up. She holds my gaze for an agonising amount of time before recoiling and sighing.

"To answer your original question, I can both check your memories and give them back…"

My lips purse. "But you're not going to?"

She shakes her head at me. "No."

"Why not? I'm willing to make a deal. I'm sure there's something I can offer you."

She scans my face. "Oh, there is. But I am also sure that whatever I ask for will be a price you're not willing to pay."

"You don't know that… Not unless you ask."

She smiles, and this time it makes her eyes glint like the beady orbs of ravens.

"I am certain you won't be willing, because I only ask for the most impossible things to give. Otherwise, what's the point of making a deal?"

Psycho.

She wipes her hands down her dress and says, "Good evening, Red. See you at the awards ceremony."

She waves a willowy hand at me and then speeds off into the night and darkness. The mountains and forests swallow her.

I have to bite back an insult. What a bitch. She can help me, but won't? Fucking St Clair's are all the same. Twisted fucks.

I should never have gotten involved with any of them.