Chapter 4

OCTAVIA

"I f you value breathing, I would advise you to remove that blade from my neck," I say.

"Thanks, but I'll keep it where it is," a woman snarls. "Move an inch, I dare you."

I sigh. It's deep and overly dramatic, but I need to demonstrate that no matter what this little magician assassin thinks she can do, I will do it faster and harder and end her quicker than she can blink.

"Need I remind you of the vampire-magician wars? It didn't end well for your kind," I say, my voice deep and full of threat.

The assassin sneers, "Funny, because I had an entirely different history lesson." She hitches the Katana sword closer to my neck, dangerously close to nicking the skin.

"Enough," Red says, bolting to the tunnel arch. "Scarlett, stop. Please. It's… this is complicated."

"Uncomplicate it," Scarlett says, not moving an inch.

"I'm getting bored with this," I say.

Red's eyes widen. She places a hand on Scarlett's wrist. "Octavia will behave, won't you?" she says, glaring at me.

"You're required in Sangui City," I say, ignoring the question. I'm not promising a damn thing.

"She's required to stay right the fuck here," a curvy girl wearing a strange baggy outfit says. The trousers are slung low on her hips, and she has lacy underwear underneath. Do magicians regularly walk around with their knickers out? What unusual attire.

"Bella. Gods. Everyone stop. It's going to be fine," Red says, now tugging on Scarlett's arm.

Bella thrusts a hand on her hip. Ah, now I recognise her. This is Red's friend. She's spoken about her several times over the years, but for obvious reasons, I've never met her.

"It's not fine," Bella says. "You ran away to New Imperium and then collapsed unconscious in the middle of the city alone."

That piques my interest, a quiet simmering heat sparks in my gut. "You collapsed?" I say, my jaw clenching.

"Not that you give a shit, but yes. I had chest pains and ended up collapsing, and Quinn found me."

Another girl appears now. Her hair is shorn to the scalp on the sides, and she has an array of tight-coiled hair on the top. I like the style. She holds an awkward hand up to indicate she was the finder of Red.

"Thank you for finding her," I say to Quinn.

She nods, presses her lips into a thin line at me. But her eyes bounce from me to Red to the rest of the group in a skittish motion.

Scarlett, still holding the swords at my neck and chest, hesitates at my gratitude. It's enough to make my move. I speed out of her grip and disarm her, knocking both swords out of her hands.

I'll give her credit, she's fast. I swing out of her fist range and lunge forward, grabbing a short-handled blade out of her thigh strap.

There's a kerfuffle, a blur of fast feet, tangled limbs, and then a hot body squeezes between us. It's Red. Though Scarlett and I, both considerably taller than Red, are holding each other's throats around her head.

"ENOUGH," Bella says. "You look like a fucking sandwich all pressed together like that. Scarlett, stand down."

"I'll release her when she releases me," Scarlett says.

Wise move, clever little assassin.

"Fuck me," Red snaps. "You're as bad as each other. Right. Release together. In three. Two. One."

We do as she says and release each other simultaneously.

"Was that really so hard?" I sneer.

"Says the vampire in the magician's territory. Are you trying to incite a war?" Scarlett lurches forward but Red's hands land on her chest.

Protecting me, little hunter? How quaint.

Red kneads her forehead. "I'm taking her back. For all the bravado, Octavia is correct. I am required in this stupid competition that's partnered me with a drainer," Red sighs.

Drainer? I have to suppress a sigh. Alas, the compulsion has taken us back to hate. I knew it was coming and yet it doesn't make it sting any less.

"Then why did you come here? I didn't think I was seeing you until Morrigan's wedding," Bella asks.

"I…" Red hesitates, her brow furrows, the confusion of compulsion washing over her expression. "I guess I'm not sure. Something happened earlier that made me cross and then I don't… Maybe I drank too much and figured I'd go see my bestie."

Bella—the bestie—frowns, folding her arms under her ample breasts and glares at Red. Oh dear, she doesn't buy the bullshit the compulsion is making you spew.

She's a good friend.

"Red…" I say, recognising that I need to get her out of here before the spots in her memory make her friend even more suspicious.

"Honestly, Bella, I'm totally fine. I drank wayyyy too much at the end of the challenge today, and I just missed you."

That softens Bella. She opens her arms, and Red flings herself into them. My jaw tightens so hard I'm sure I'll crack a fang. It's not that I'm jealous. She can hug whoever she wants, especially her best friends.

But… she is mine.

And mine alone.

And I don't like people touching what belongs to me.

I don't give a fuck who says that's toxic; I like my romance dark and intense and flavoured with the fieriest spice.

I glance at Scarlett, who hasn't taken her eyes off me this entire time. Her gaze is narrowed as she watches me watch Red. Assessing.

Perhaps I underestimated the magician.

"I should go," Red says, disentangling herself from Bella. "We'll have the winner announced in the morning, and it's going to take us all night to get back."

"Do you still have the orb Remy gave you?" Quinn asks.

Red nods.

"Good, use it. For anything. We're here for you," Quinn says.

Red says her goodbyes to Quinn and Scarlett and together we retreat into the shadows. The assassin-magician's eyes bore into my back long after we're out of sight.

We're silent for a long time.

She's keeping her distance, a good three feet of space between us.

So this is how it is.

Back to her hating me, hating vampires. Forgetting every time she's fallen for me. So strange that we can be bonded, and she doesn't even know.

It occurs to me that now I'm standing next to her, my chest has loosened. I feel… better? This must be the bond working. We are tied physically, mentally, and spiritually. This is going to make the fact she doesn't remember falling for me a lot more complicated.

How will we get through this? I pull a hand over my face, as if that will wipe away the frustration. I can't look at her. Instead, I glance anywhere, at anything but her. With each compulsion, each tearing of my heart, it gets harder.

The light in this tunnel is a pale rouge, like watered down blood. But the dark, rough walls make the air seem thick and moody. Ivy and vines grow up some of the tunnel walls, garrotting the lights that hang from the arched ceiling. I don't recall ever coming into the tunnels this far on foot.

We continue in silence, which means my mind continues to race.

What happens when the competition is over and she no longer wants to be anywhere near me? What if she tries to leave and accidentally kills herself because she strayed too far from me? But worse, what if this is the time she doesn't fall in love with me again?

Should I remove the compulsion?

No. That's stupid. I can't because if she accidentally let slip who she is… if I'm not with her. Gods forbid anything happen to her. The blood drains from my face as I grasp just how complicated this has become and that all of it is my fault.

Red jolts me out of my thoughts. "Don't make a habit of visiting New Imperium," she says as we trudge deeper into the tunnels. The gloom takes over, making it harder for her to see me, no doubt.

"I'll stop visiting New Imperium when you learn to stay put."

"Fuck you, Octavia, you don't own me."

"I think you'll find that you're my teammate. Which means you're mine to protect."

"I'm not an idiot. I don't need any drainers knowing where I'm going." She wipes her mouth.

God, this is déjà vu. She'd thrown things like this at me not two weeks ago. I wonder if it's me, if I'm quietly driving myself insane repeating the same mistakes over and over. Sure, the number of times I've expunged myself from her memories is limited. But the amount of memories I've taken? The number of mistakes I've hidden, hurts I've removed? She'd never forgive me if she knew. I can't keep doing this.

I sigh. "So we're back to drainer?"

"Did we ever leave it?" she snaps.

Fuck. Right. No, we didn't. Is this the time where I've overlaid the web so many times it all falls down? Can I even keep track of which memories are gone?

Mother of Blood. I rub my eyes, exhausted already. "I suppose not."

She turns away from me, hiding her expression. But she keeps wiping her mouth.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"What's it to you?"

I grit my teeth. It's going to be a long night. "As my trial partner, it's of utmost importance to me you stay in good health. And frankly, you look terrible."

"And whose fault is that?" she snaps.

I tilt my head at her. "Explain."

She pauses one brief second and then flings her hand up. "Forget it. I'm just thirsty. Like really thirsty."

"If there's a carriage that passes, I'll stop them and ask for their water."

"Not. That thirst."

"Oh," I say. "Right. Your addiction."

She glares at me. "Don't call it that."

"Would you prefer I called it your teddy bear?"

She rolls her eyes at me.

"Well, I can assist you with this problem as well."

"I'd rather drink a dying vampire's blood than yours. Or did you forget you turned my sister?"

I groan. I can't help it. Amelia is going to kill me when I tell her she's going to have to break the news to her sister all over again.

"You have no choice. You're not drinking any other vampire's blood."

She rounds on me, shoves me against the tunnel wall. "Did you fucking hear me? You turned my sister. Why the hell would I drink your blood?"

She shoves and shoves. Something is… off. She's emanating a strange twist of emotions. I don't know if I can smell them or if they're inside me. The bond, perhaps. But they're visceral. She is visceral. The hot prickle of rage coats my flesh, the static tingle of irritation like pepper in the air. Confusion, disappointment.

Wait.

Disappointment?

I tilt my head, trying to examine her facial expression, to see if I can work out what's going on. Was this one time too many with compulsion? Have I actually broken her mind?

She's breathing hard as she pushes me against the wall.

"I hate you," she says, but the words are forced, like she's trying to hate me. And for the first time, I wonder whether my compulsion is faulty. Did I do it wrong? Has it only half taken?

Ridiculous. This is just like all the other times. Her head is telling her one thing, and her heart is saying something else. I narrow my eyes at her.

"I don't think you do," I say.

Her nostrils flare wide, her jaw tightens.

"See, I think you want my blood. You crave it."

"Fuck you, Octavia."

That makes me grin. "I'd love you to."

She pulls me off the wall and thrusts me back against it. I cock my head the other way, baring my neck, and lock eyes with her. This is what she wants. What she needs. I will always give her what she needs.

She steps into my personal space automatically. I raise a finger and draw it down my neck until it hovers over a juicy vein.

"Sure?" I say, tapping the risen thread of skin. This is our dance: the dare, the tease, the temptation. This is how it always starts. "Can't have my teammate in anything but the peak of physical health. Even if that means allowing the little hunter to dose herself into oblivion."

I dig my nail into my neck, threatening to pierce the skin. She rears back, her nostrils wide.

She looks up at me. "I do. Hate you, I mean. But this… I…"

We hold each other there, a million things passing between us. All of them unsaid. The air festers with everything we should confess, all our unspoken lies and promises, deceits and betrayals.

"Don't be ashamed. Take it," I whisper, pushing against my neck.

I swallow my next words, my throat aches with the need to purge them: take all of it. I'd give it all to you if it meant I could keep you.

Her face hardens like granite and steel and the coldest storm I've ever seen. And I know before she opens her mouth, I am well and truly screwed.

"What? Like you tried to take my memories?" she snarls.

Oh. Fuck.