27. Caspian

CHAPTER 27

Caspian

A ltaris may want his toy back. He may regret my giving away such a valuable tool to one he despises. Don't care. As I see the look on her face, once she has that stone in her hands, I don't give a damn about anything the vamryre could do to me.

Hope is a painful thing when it dwells into those black eyes. She seems to fear it, that volatile emotion. It makes her feel greedy and reckless, all those naughty things the fae would tell her not to indulge in.

But I like her this way. I like seeing her gaze glow with interest, and I love hearing bits of knowledge churn through her fathomless mind. She takes the stone and tucks it gingerly into her pocket, along with that drawing I'd forgotten about. The one of her. She treats both with the same reverent curiosity.

And suddenly, I am the one struck dumb with awe.

"You will find her," I say. "The Aurelia. I will help you."

She nods, and a shy smile shapes those lips. It's too tempting up here in this dark, quiet space. I can't resist. I grab her wrist, pull her into me and press that mouth to mine.

A kiss is a fleeting thing. A stupid, customary act the mortals liked to be placated with. A rare glimpse of intimacy that Cassius craved. He loved to be kissed by me.

With her, there is no gloating obsession. There is savoring and vital contact. There is no choice but to kiss her harder in return. To grip her tighter as she relents to the embrace.

I kiss her and I forget myself. Sometimes, it's a fucking gift to forget. I could drown in her if I wanted to. Never to resurface.

But unlike me, she needs to breathe. I pull back, let her suck in air. She sways on her feet, still dangerously close to the roof's edge.

I grab her hand and pull her back inside.

The noise has died down somewhat—but it seems the mundane creature hasn't. She gasps for air, writhing on a pile of blankets in the corner. The blonde woman, Colleen, crouches over her, holding her hand. Altaris stands near the opposite corner. He is surrounded by two newcomers who must have arrived in our absence.

One of them I recognize as Daven Wick. The other is a woman. Her scent immediately identifies her. Awful. Musk. Lunaria.

"Is this the whelp that caused the bite?" I wonder aloud.

Altaris winces.

The woman scoffs, her eyes narrowed. "Watch your fucking mouth, vamp. In that pretty realm of yours, your kind do as they please. Here, your bigotry isn't tolerated. You so much as think about calling me whelp or dog or whatever fucking terms you pricks use, and I'll give you a bite of my own?—"

"Now, now, Sylvie, dear," Altaris interjects—but verbally and physically. Standing between us, he raises both hands in a placating gesture. "There is no need for that. You two are on the same side. In fact, I insist you two work together."

"Cut the shit, Altaris," the whelp snaps. With her head cocked, she steps toward him. Her display might have been intimidating if she weren't half his size. It is odd to see a lunarian with such a petite structure.

Strong and robust bodies make it easy for them to morph into their beast forms. In this case, it appears that the only form she could master is that of a bird. Or a rat.

Her dark hair is streaked with gold, her eyes a flashing brown.

Lunaria were confined to the main city and rural outposts in the other realm. Cassius didn't let me mingle with them too much. Their blood was far too gamey for his tastes, and their manners were lacking. In every way, he preferred mortals. The only complementary trait he would ever extend to a wolf whelp might be admiration for their loyalty.

They were known to be willing to die for their clan leaders. To take their own lives if they had to.

Yet, this one stands alone without the safety of a pack behind her. She has no other litter mates mingled with her scent. She is solitary.

An easy mark.

"Now, Caspian, play nice," Altaris warns in his authoritative tone. "We need to find that ledger. The little fae-spawn does not have it. We must move quickly, my dears. Especially if you are sure about who made that bite—" He looks at the whelp, Sylvie.

She nods. "That's Black Fang poison," she admits. "I'd know it anywhere, but it's stronger than what we used. More potent—" She sniffs and shudders. "I can smell it from over here."

"Yes, it seems to have been augmented with some kind of enhancing property," Daven Wick remarks, stroking his chin. "I can't think of what could have been added to make it lethal. An extract of some kind. A venom."

"Or blood," Altaris remarks, his eyes on my fae. "Fae blood mixed with something else. Something unnatural."

"Killing wasn't our style," Sylvie says, but her expression is strained, her gaze distant. "At least not then."

"In any case, we need that ledger?—"

"She's awake!" says the blonde, her voice rasping.

Her father approaches her in an instant. Altaris beats him there, bending low to place his hand on the blonde's shoulder.

"Can she speak, my darling?" he asks.

"I don't know." Colleen sighs, her brows knitted, brow drenched with sweat. "She's weak. I don't know how much longer I can keep her conscious though?—"

"Don't you worry yourself about that," Altaris says with a wave of his hand. "Just get her to speak. Where did she put the ledger."

In a gentle tone, the woman asks… I don't care. The topic of this conversation does not interest me. It is not clear to me why I am even approaching them, coming close enough to observe the mundane's tormented face. Then I notice Niamh standing before me, still clasping my hand. She's the one who led me to this corner.

Without question, I followed.

"...sold it," the mundane says, her eyes fluttering, limbs thrashing. "Sold it to a grifter. Don't know who."

"Well, that is unfortunate," Altaris snaps. "Ask her if?—"

"Take it easy, Col." Daven Wick appears on the other side of the blonde, his voice low and soothing. "Don't overdo it. Pull back if you need to. It's okay."

"A little longer, my darling," Altaris insists. "We need to know if?—"

"Don't you see she's exhausted! You just keep pushing her. You don't give a damn, do you? Colleen, baby, if it's too much, you can let go."

"Do not," Altaris snaps. Despite his level tone, his gaze is cold and unmistakably authoritative. His grip on the blonde one tightens until she visibly winces, not that he notices. He is greedily fixated on his goal.

Even though she is weakening. Her veins are bulging. Quickly, she is tiring.

Yet the vamryer is not totally selfish. He is plotting and scheming even now. He has an aim in mind. What is it?

"You…" The dying mundane spies my fae, her gaze clear for once. "I… I looked. Name… Aur"

Niamh sucks in a breath. She's on her knees in an instant, leaning in close. "Aurelia?"

The mundane nods. Then shakes her head. She is too delirious to make sense. "Parna… Aurelia… Parna. Aurelia."

"Altaris!" Daven Wick is on his feet, his hands clenched, eyes blazing. "Enough is enough."

The vamryre doesn't even look up at him. "No," he insists. "Keep going, my dear one. Just a little longer…"

"I… I can't." The blonde one trembles, her eyelids fluttering. "I…"

"Colleen, baby, just let go!"

"Not yet," Altaris says, louder than them both. "Caspian, darling, could you get the door?"

I raise an eyebrow, but move forward to obey. Upon opening the door, yet another figure rushes in, racing past me. She has a bag at her hip and rummages around, withdrawing a vial of liquid in one hand. A syringe in the other.

"I'm here!" she rasps in between panting breaths. "I'm so sorry I'm late. I couldn't find?—"

"Finally. Just administer the sedative, please," Altaris says, cutting over the male mortal before he can say a word otherwise.

The mortal nods and Niamh steps aside so she can take her place. She injects the mundane with the syringe.

The girl shudders. Stills. Yet, she is not dead.

"Good. Now you may relax, my darling." Altaris strokes the blonde one's arm, and she nearly collapses into his arms. "There, there. You did well."

"I need some fucking air." Daven storms off, radiating anger.

The blonde is too exhausted to notice. She slumps against Altaris as the vamryer gently helps her to her feet. "I'll take you back to the house, darling. You can get some rest there, hmm? Sylvie, I will trust you to stay here. Get well acquainted with my new guests. Keep Daven away from any bottles. I shall return."

As he nears the door, blonde in tow, the mortal doctor calls out, "I will stay and monitor her, if that's okay?"

"Of course, darling," Altaris replies before leading the blonde outside. "Caspian should be a bit more well-mannered than dear Ginni. Try not to attack each other while I am gone."

"Fucking vamp," the lunaria hisses. Crossing her arms, she paces. As she turns her attention to Niamh, she pauses. While her gaze lingers, it is not in an accusatory or fearful way, as those in the other realm would view her. She notes her eyes. That sloping mouth. Her delicate limbs swathed in orange fabric.

Her stare irritates me.

"I'm Sylvie, by the way," she says, extending her hand. "Altaris didn't tell me your name. He can be thoughtless like that. You certainly aren't from around here, that much I know."

My fae takes her hand and forces a faint smile. "I am Niamh," she says. "This is Caspian?—"

"And I'm Aleska Fraterani," the mortal on the floor explains with a nervous laugh. "Medical examiner. I… I'll just try to get her stabilized. Don't mind me!"

"I've heard about you." The lunaria whelp crosses her arms and inclines her head. I noticed she was far more interested in the mortal than she was in my fae. Her eyes linger over her face, especially. "The mortal morgue-y. How in the hell did you stumble upon the mundane world in the first place?"

Shrugging, the mortal smiles widely. "I'm not sure, but I find this all very interesting. I'll try to be as unobtrusive as possible, but I would like to stay and observe her overnight, if possible?"

Niamh nods. "Of course."

"Poor thing." The mortal takes the mundane's hand and strokes the pale fingers. "Do you know her name?"

"Minchae," Niamh says.

The one who wanted to feed her to jackdaws. I eye the creature, lying in our space, on our dusty, musty blankets. She writhes in agony. Without an antidote, she will die soon.

Everyone in this room knows it but Niamh. Hope blazes in her eyes, revealing her innocence. In this case, her hope stings rather than entices. It will be broken.

Just as she is used to her hopes always being broken.

"I'll try to do the best I can to keep her stabilized," the mortal explains. "When Altaris called me, I wasn't even sure this would work. We've seen an increase in bites like this just over the span of the last few days. It's been a nightmare."

"Is this the work of you and your pack, whelp?" I ask of the lunarian.

She hisses and curls her hands into fists. "Fuck off, vampire. I'm sure your kind wouldn't be above masquerading as a lun to get your kicks. If you were smart enough to make it convincing."

"You are lunarian?" The mortal's eyes widen. "Oh my, I have so many questions. I've barely been out of boney headquarters, and I've met a vamryer and a grimoirer but never a?—"

"I ain't really in the mood to star in my own personal freakshow right now," the whelp replies, turning on her heel. "Altaris wanted me to confirm the bite in person. I have. Call me when he gets back. I have shit to do."

She storms out, slamming the door behind her.

"Well," the mortal swallows. "I'll just make myself comfortable over here. Sorry to intrude."

Intrude. She has.

There is more for Niamh and me to discuss. A deadline to our mutual goal. Kill Cassius. Find the Aurelia. We could go tonight…

I look at her. I meet her gaze with every intention of taking her there, back through the portal. We will face our demons together.

But not tonight. I see her expression, bathed in the glow of the flickering lights above. Far too innocent for pain and fear. Not tonight. I take her hand and pull her with me up the stairs, out into the night. There, under the stars, I pull her close. We settle into a corner against the wall of the doorway, and I know she will easily fall asleep here.

Right where I can protect her from the many forces drawing nearer.