Chapter 9

CHAPTER

NINE

I don't know how I got into Sias's bed or how long I'd been there.

From the amount of drool on his satin pillowcase, I'd have guessed I'd been asleep for a solid day and a half. I'd never had the pleasure of waking up in his bed, and it was as comfortable and luxurious as I'd hoped. Unfortunately, the lovely silk sheets and heavy down comforter didn't dull the throbbing in my leg nor the stiffness in my limbs.

I felt like shit wrapped in silk. It was quite the experience.

Every single deity I could think of was cursed as I forced myself upright, my skeleton having been replaced with termite infested wood that creaked when I moved. My vision was blurry for the first few blinks, slowly coming into focus as I knocked away the grogginess with the heels of my palms. Through my sheer unconscious need to be the center of attention, I had managed to travel to the middle of Sias's orgy sized mattress and made a little burrow for myself.

The place to my left had a dent where someone had been sleeping, the pillow cool and a few hours abandoned. I wondered if it was too much to hope that I hadn't made that dent myself, since there wasn't any drool on it.

To my left, a tiny bundle of fur napped a pillow away, curled up like a cinnamon roll.

Beside her was Zane's ashes, placed carefully between two pillows to keep it upright. The glass said nothing as I wished it good morning.

Because I moved at the same speed as a dying animal, traveling the expanse of the mattress felt like an eternity. By the time I reached the edge, I was contemplating falling back asleep to either waste a few more days in a comatose state or simply die to forgo the effort of standing. I decided it was best to try and soldier on, because I was starving and needed the bathroom enough to urge me to continue to live.

Once I got on my feet and took a few steps, living seemed less terrible. My body hurt, but my mind was starting to find the lighthouse of clarity through the drowsy fog.

I was no longer covered in vampire blood and grime, my skin smelling of soap and Sias's sheets. I was in my boxers, leg freshly bandaged, my bruises angry splotches of purple and green. My reflection showed two days of stubble, wild hair and the swollen eyes of a man who hadn't seen the sun for a while.

Needless to say, I was very sexy.

Due to the sheer achiness of every part of my existence, it took longer than usual, but I managed to wash my face, shave and get dressed in under a decade. Some of my clothing was waiting for me, clean and neatly folded, which was a novel idea. When I emerged from Sias's room, I looked almost presentable, even if I was moving like a beaten old man.

The smell of coffee was heavenly as I padded to the kitchen, where Barnaby and Funus occupied places at the breakfast counter while Sias poured more boiling water over grounds.

Unlike me, Sias was fully healed and had no evidence left of the fight with the void vampire. He was unblemished, beautiful and well rested.

Lucky bastard.

"You're awake." Sias motioned to his brew. "Coffee?"

"Dear God, yes." I saddled up to a stool by Funus and sat. "I'm guessing from the coffee and Barnaby's puzzle face that it's morning?"

"I don't have a ‘puzzle face.'" Barnaby said, maintaining the face. "But no. It's late. Nearly eight at night."

Funus's eyes were angled up and away like he was listening to something for a heartbeat, then swiveled the yellow orbs my direction.

"Good evening, Dallas."

"How long was I out?" I took the cup offered to me with both hands and breathed in the rich vapor.

"Two days, off and on," Sias answered, passing me cream and sugar. "You'd wake up for short spells, but you were very drained. How do you feel?"

"Like shit." I shoved the proper amount of sugar into the black liquid before smothering it with cream. "But after some coffee and food, I'll be fine."

"The doctor said you should maintain bedrest for a few more days," Sias pitched, not sounding hopeful I'd comply.

"We've lost two days," I argued after a swallow of coffee. "Plus, you think this is the first time some otherworldly monster has tossed me around? Please. Normal Saturday night for me."

Sias hummed, not convinced but also not arguing.

"Do we know how many tears happened while I was down?" I asked.

"One small incident that was squashed quickly by the Saint's Army," Barnaby chimed in, taking a break from his puzzle. "Believe it or not, they're back in the media in a positive light for the first time in decades."

It was too early to be getting a headache, but one started regardless. I rubbed at my temple to ease it back, grumbling, "Great."

"I was able to obtain Florence's real estate records over the past five years," Sias swooped in to help ease the growing pain in my skull. "There's been a few properties around the city and just outside St. Athesall's limits that she's snatched up. She's been very busy it seems."

Thank the Gods for small miracles. "You think any of them would be worth searching? Any that seem like a facility she could fuck around with death magic and not get noticed?"

"Two come to mind," he said. "They're just outside the city limits, about an hour away in opposite directions."

I tapped on the lip of the mug, the rhythmic chime of ceramic under my nail a metronome as I let my brain churn.

"We could bring some magic detectors to each one and see if we can read anything out of the ordinary, but there's a good chance she installed dampeners to keep the signals low. Our best bet would to be somehow manage to get inside?—"

"Do you hear that?" Funus interrupted.

I paused my tapping and listened, hearing only the calm hum of the fridge and Barnaby chewing on a pencil.

I gave Funus a shrug. "No?"

"Strange," he whispered, eyes bouncing around. "It was so clear."

"I can meet with Dex about making something to punch through any dampeners," Sias pitched. "Maybe she has something we can use."

"Worth a shot. If we each take a location, we can cover more ground and waste less time if these are dead ends."

Sias's scowl was telling me that he didn't love my idea.

"You want us to split up?"

"Dual recon," I corrected. "It's a sound strategy."

"Absolutely not."

"Why?" I snorted.

"Why? Dallas, you're beaten to hell. You can barely walk much less fight if the need arises." Sias shook his head when I opened my mouth. "We go together."

"I'm gonna burst your bubble here, Sias," I said with a wince, in mock concern for his ego. "This isn't the first time I've gotten my ass kicked and went limping after trouble. I don't need an incubus in white armor to come keep me safe."

"You're mistaken, pet." His eyes flashed a brilliant lemon lime swirl before cooling into a sweet lavender. "I'm not a knight in this scenario, I'm the king . And by my fucking decree, you will not put yourself in unnecessary danger while you are recovering. Are we crystal clear?"

I slurped some coffee and watched him bristle, the urge to see if I could get his eyes to change into a new combination of annoyed anger almost outweighing the delight I had at him being so royally protective. On one hand, the thought of Sias caring about me in a way no one else besides Zane had was giving me so many butterflies hatching in my belly that I was going to start levitating off the stool. On the other, maybe I could name the new color something funny, like lemon-lime-haterade.

I was still weighing my options when Funus yelled, "There! There it is again!"

"There's no need to yell!" Barnaby snapped, having dropped his pencil during the skull's outburst.

"You can't hear it?"

The kitchen fell silent as all three living creatures listened to silence, straining to pick up what the dead guy was hearing.

The hum of the fridge continued to moan, a bird outside sang merrily, the faucet beside me dripped once into the sink. There was nothing worth shouting about, nothing that sounded interesting or revolutionary in any way. Barnaby lifted a brow at me in a silent question, and I shrugged back in answer.

"I can't tell…where it's coming from…" Funus said, moving his eyes since he couldn't do much else. "It's so quiet, but it's there. Faint and quiet, but it's there."

"Funus, I think maybe you need a nap, man," I suggested when Sias lifted his hand to pause our conversation. His golden brows furrowed, head tilted as he tuned into something.

"You hear it?" I asked and he put a finger to his lips, hushing me. The kitchen fell silent again as Sias shut his eyes and frowned while Funus angled his eyes up and around. Barnaby and I shrugged at each other, completely dumbfounded.

Sias stood in meditation for a few beats, a hard crease forming on his brow from the effort of trying to locate the unknown noise. His eyes shot open in surprise as he moved to the freezer and swung the door open, unmuting the noise from within.

A scratching sound punctuated the calmness of the kitchen, tiny nails scraping down plastic in a slow, deliberate pattern.

"…whaaat the fuck," I muttered, lifting off my stool in shock. Barnaby gasped and covered his mouth, understandably horrified.

Sias reached into the cold of his freezer and pulled the source of the noise out, the little plastic container fogged over from frost. His fingers shook as he placed it onto the counter, the color in his face draining.

"I, um," His Majesty Sias floundered, eyes turning a shade I decided to name terror-gray. "I think it's for you, Dallas."

"Like a fucking phone call?" I hissed.

Sias nodded. "Yes."

"You can't feel her, acolyte?" Funus breathed. "She's present. Right now."

He was right.

I could feel her.

It was subtle; a barely perceived breath across the back of my neck, a whisper so soft I wasn't sure if I actually heard or imagined it.

But she was there, as real and terrifying as only death could be. My practice mouse tap, tap, tapped—waiting for me to answer.

Barnaby took a few steps to bolt from the kitchen, his body language screaming with how uncomfortable the entire scene was making him. Instead of running away, which I wouldn't have blamed him for, he turned Funus around to face the container and kept his shaking hands resting on top of the skull.

"No need to be afraid," Funus consoled him. "You're safe."

"If you say so," Barnaby whined. "But I'm going to be very angry if she kills the lot of us for something Dallas inevitably says or does."

"How am I already in trouble and I haven't even answered the mouse-phone yet?"

"Dallas," Sias said, voice low and uneasy.

"Yeah, okay. Okay." I took a long inhale and shook out my hands, exhaling slowly as I eased the top of the container open. The dead mouse crawled up and over the lip of the container like it hadn't been dead for weeks and frozen solid. It was piloted with false life, eyes glowing a haunting shade of black-green I simply dubbed "nightmare."

The tiny body crawled to the center of the countertop and stood back on its haunches, long tail curled around its back feet, mouth open wide to expose its rodent incisors. The receiver was unhooked, the phone call answered.

How exactly do you start a conversation with a Goddess when she literally cold calls you?

"Uh," I said. "Wilde Assassinations and Fish Training. Can I help you?"

Sias rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Barnaby slapped my arm and mouthed, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"We need to meditate," Funus explained quietly. "Open yourself to the void. She's telling you the door is open."

My stomach felt like a clenched fist when I remembered how horrible my last run in with the void had been. Tingles of ache spread out from where the vampire's teeth had ripped open my leg, my body cold from the brush with death.

"I dunno if I can, Funus," I admitted, sour and hurt. "I went too deep last time. I felt myself slip away…I heard Zane in there…"

"You can do this, acolyte," he insisted. "You peered into the void and made it back once; you can do it again. The Goddess of Death does not make herself known to just anyone." His yellow eyes pierced me, desperate. "We must know why she's here."

"Why me?" I rubbed at my arms, a chill shaking me. "You're the ultra fanboy. You talk to her."

"If she wanted to speak to me, she can anytime. I'm dead." Funus gave me a shine with his eyes, something of a tired smile. "You are her champion."

"I'm tired , is what I am." I held my arms. "I'm tired, and beaten up, and I just want my vampire. I don't want a world ending responsibility or some prophecy bestowed on me. I just want Zane. And more coffee. Is that so much to ask?"

Sias's hands were warm on my shoulders as he squeezed, the fist in my gut slowly uncurling as I felt his charm magic wrap around me in a cocoon.

"I know you're tired," he whispered, breath soft on my ear. "And you deserve a rest. But if you want Zane back, you can't keep a Death Goddess waiting on hold."

"She could have at least waited for me to finish my coffee," I complained, no longer tangled in knots but still disgruntled.

"I'll make you all the coffee you want after." He moved his hands to my arms, easing the chill from around me. "Follow your training and step into the void. I'll be here to keep you tethered."

I felt a swell of nerves start to form in my chest, but they unraveled as Sias slipped his fingers through my hair.

"Keep me from falling in this time?"

"I've got you," he promised.

"Like we've practiced," Funus coached. "Repeat your mantra, keep yourself centered, and answer her call."

I let my eyes fall shut as Sias squeezed the nape of my neck, tension releasing from my shoulders. His touch traveled down my spine, easing and grounding me like a solid anchor to the chilly floor beneath my feet.

The mantra slipped into my mind, the charm spell wrapping a thread over my chest to keep my heart from going off the beaten path. I wouldn't be chasing ghosts.

Not yet.

My hand lifted, and the cold spider web threads touched my fingers faster than ever before. The void was much closer to the surface when the Goddess herself was waiting at the door. Sias purred into my ear, and I curled my fingers over the delicate strings that weaved across my palm.

With a tug, the void swung open with startling ease, and I was plunged into darkness.

Ripples over dark waters, shadows dancing along the edges, the void was calm and contained. Little slips of my conscious dribbled over the sides, and I caught a fleeting view of my first kiss, all awkward hands and panting promises. I'd forgotten his name, but I remembered his smile.

I also saw a woman laughing, tangled in sheets with arms around her. She was cuddling with a beautiful man, both with flushed cheeks and soft kisses, and I knew in my heart how much they had meant to me. And how devastated I was to see them again.

Who were they?

The moment the memories started, they floated away again, golden threads tugging me back before I could fall too deep.

I had almost died again, but not quite. It was much easier to stay at the edge during the visit when other magic and chaos wasn't slamming into you from all sides.

This visit was much more cordial, downright pleasant compared to the last one.

And just as my soul tugged back and I began to feel less like I was dying, the Goddess made herself known.

How I was able to feel a chill while I was in the realm of the dead was something only a Death Goddess could achieve, and her grip over me was soul deep and vicious. Bony fingers touched me, turning my head to see through eyes that weren't mine.

I saw the scythe in a stark white room, its crimson blade smoking from the industrial machines cutting pieces of it free. Vapor pulled at the edges of reality, threadbare windows into the void splitting like fabric. Obsidian crystals shot up from around the split, jagged and terrifying, taking the shape of teeth biting at the air. A mechanical arm dropped down and plucked them from the fissures like apples from a tree, dropping them into containers.

The scythe blade was being chipped away by machines, each new assault bringing more obsidian to harvest, and hungrier tears.

As each tear got pulled further apart, becoming even more unstable and wild with magic churning and lashing out from each wound, another robotic arm would seal it with a few careful shots of a high-powered laser, a crystal shard glinting from within. Across the robot's arm was stamped "Essence Mechanics" in bright, bold lettering.

A person dressed in a plastic biohazard suit stood beside the machine and pulled the infused crystal loose from the robotic arm, which was now smoking from the effort of channeling the magic, and placed it gently aside. The grunt whose eyes I was peering from lumbered forward to present a new one, its dead hand unaffected by coming in contact with the raw power of the chipped blade of the scythe.

My vision blurred as we jumped to another set of eyes, which was holding the shards in the dead hands of a vampire. We crushed the shards into dust with the help of machines, compelled to follow the orders of our Mistress. The dust was liquified, processed, and churned with charms and magic it had no business sharing space with.

I saw the bubbles of bio-magic being infused with death, creating something foul, horrible and unnatural. I saw how it transformed test animals into monsters with too many teeth, snapping them in half to shape themselves into new nightmares. I also saw a different test subject being brought back to life after a particularly well-maintained batch was injected into their veins.

This was a miracle drug just as easily as it was a method of creating undead creatures.

Great.

A shift, a flash—eyes closing and opening again in a new space.

The lab was gone, replaced instead by a cool, dark room with thin wisps of incense smoke trailing on either side of a death altar. The eyes I was peering from felt different, blurry, like I was trying to see through lenses covered in fog. A hand with thin, elegant fingers was holding an obsidian shard from a corrupted tear, blood trailing from a cut on their palm.

Through the fog, I could see the death altar was set up in the way Funus coached; the candles set east and west, ancient runes placed between them flanking the section meant for the offering. The vision was swimming, whether it was clinging to consciousness or death, I wasn't sure.

In the center where I normally had my mouse to practice on, a mound of ash was placed in a neat pyramid.

"Focus, madam," a familiar voice whispered, causing a flurry of acid to bubble in my gut. Hei had her hand on the shoulder of the person I was watching through, keeping them from tipping forward.

The obsidian was slick with crimson as the thin fingers of Florence's hand curled inward. The vision cleared more, the cradled shard humming with power as the mound of ashes began to smolder. Florence's eyes fell in and out of focus as she summoned a connection to the void, her grip on the blade shaking.

"Focus," Hei hissed. "Don't let it slip. Hold on to it."

I felt Florence's heart slowing as the void grabbed her, the power of the shard crawling up her arm in icy tendrils.

The smoldering ashes in front of her began to solidify, taking the shape of a screaming skull with sharp, blue eyes.

I knew that skull.

The last time I had seen them, Magnus was putting a life magic infused blade to their temple. They had been turned to ash defending the secrets of the Goddess in a forgotten tomb under the Silent Steps.

Florence was resurrecting one of the dead Necromancy Council members.

From their ashes .

The flames in the altar suffocated from the cold, a pure void tear opening in front of them like a curtain being pulled aside. The ash skull screamed in silence, eyes flickering in and out as Florence's vision began to waver again.

"Don't let it shut!" Hei was demanding, one of her arms outstretched for the void. "Hold it, damnit! Hold it!"

The ashes crumbled, Florence's heart surged back to a thundering tempo, and I was sent back to the present.

I was left shaking in Sias's kitchen, my heart matching Florence's panicked pace as I caught my breath.

Sias had me by the shoulders to keep me steady, but I felt more alive and decidedly warmer than the last time I had jumped into the void. I was able to blink my vision back to normal easily, and noticed that the mouse conduit had fallen back into its state of regular dead.

"Breathe," Sias was coaching me, soothing my post-void visit shakes with some gentle charm magic. A warm washcloth was placed behind my neck, and I almost asked him to marry me right on the spot.

The guy knew aftercare, I'll give him that.

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to that," I admitted, winded.

"What did she show you?" Funus asked, yellow eyes somehow wider, despite not having skin.

"Florence is ripping the scythe apart in order to make tears. They're taking the shards grown from the tainted magic and infusing them with bio-magic to make products in a lab," I explained, swallowing down some water before tacking on, "But that's somehow not the worst part of it."

"How is that not the worst part?" Barnaby demanded. "What is worse than purposefully ripping holes between realms?"

"She has one of the council member's ashes." I tilted my head to let Sias dab my chest with the rag. "She's using one of the shards to bring them back so she can open a doorway to the void."

"That's… impossible ," Funus huffed. "I think you must have been confused, Dallas."

"I know what I saw. She brought Pereo back from her ashes and channeled that power to rip the void open."

"Goddess save me," Funus whispered. "To bring back one of the council for such a purpose…it's diabolical. Unfathomable."

"Necromancers can resurrect ashes?" Sias asked as he continued warming me up.

"No, child," Funus corrected. "Necromancers cannot. Only the Goddess's blessed can. They need her blessing and her blade in order to achieve that feat. Dallas is right: this is very, very bad. If they have the ability to open a doorway to the void, there's no telling what they could do."

"They're already opening up doorways to the void by fucking with the blade. Why bother with bringing back a member of the council?" I asked. "What am I missing here?"

"You saw for yourself how hard it is to navigate the corrupted tears. They're unstable, violent, prone to sending out monsters. What they were attempting was a direct pathway into the realm, something mortals are forbidden from achieving. To what end, I don't know—it's a pathway to madness. A door directly to the Goddess."

"A pathway directly to a Goddess," I mused. "You've been dead too long, Funus. Mortals trying to get to the divine is a very old story. Florence is trying to be immortal, all-powerful, or both. She can't just be satisfied with being rich."

"That's madness," Funus whispered.

"Nah, it's the most relatable thing about her. Show of hands, who would go after the power of a God?" I lifted my hand and swept my gaze around the room.

Barnaby glared at me, openly annoyed.

Sias had his hand up.

I pointed to Sias. "See? He gets it." Then aimed an accusatory jab at Barnaby. "You're just being difficult to impress the skull."

"We need to stop her," Funus pulled us back on track. "How do we get to her?"

"I have a plan, but I gotta make some phone calls." I eased off the stool and was painfully reminded that I had a bite taken out of my leg. "Fucking hell I hate vampires. All of them. Zane too. This is all his fault."

"Are you going to tell us this plan before you start setting things into action?" Barnaby buzzed like a fussy bee.

"Grab that backpack you use to lug Funus to museums. It's already late and we don't have a lot of time to get going. Be ready in thirty."

"I hate it when he does that," Barnaby was complaining to his skeletal husband. His tone switched just as I was limping out of the kitchen, and he very sweetly told Funus, "Don't fret. He's an idiot, but he'll help you get this sorted. It'll be alright."

Aw. I was going to give him shit for that later.

Barns wasn't wrong; I was going to help Funus get things sorted out. The Goddess had shown me what was causing the rifts, but she also showed me something much more important.

How I was going to bring Florence down.

And how I was going to get my vampire back.

"I need the clothes I was wearing the night of the attack," I told Sias as I hobbled toward his bedroom. "Or at least all the shit that was in my pockets, including my phone."

Sias's fingers caught my elbow and paused my attempt at speed walking.

"Dallas. You're still recovering from the last time we tangled with the void. Let's take a moment."

"We don't have time to?—"

I blinked at the shadows playing across Sias's handsome features, his high cheekbones looked slashed on either side with horizontal lines that faded under my scrutiny.

"You feeling okay?" I watched his face, sure I had seen something.

"I'm fine." His brows lowered, finally caving under my stare by asking, "Do I have something on my face?"

"I thought you did." I reached up to touch his cheek but then thought better of it.

"You need to rest," he was back on that again. "You're better suited to fight the undead horde when you're not limping around and stiff."

"I'm fine." I rotated his elbow to manipulate the hand attached to it, his watch face catching the light. "We don't have much longer before it's prime void time. We need to get a head start this time if this is going to work."

"You're not fine , pet. You just woke up after two days of solid sleep. You need food, medicine, water." He tightened his jaw as I wrenched my arm free to continue down the hallway.

"We can get those on the way. Damn, I could go for a burger or twelve." I rubbed at my stomach and made my way into his bedroom, scanning it for any hampers. "Where did you put my old clothing?"

"They're gone, but your items are on the dresser."

"Gone??" I wheeled. "Like ‘gone to the cleaners'?"

"No, love. Burned. They were covered in vampire spit and blood. There was no recovering from that."

"Ugh, I loved those jeans. Damnit." I reached for my phone when he caught my hand and turned me toward him.

"Dallas, listen to me."

If I wasn't on a mission, wasn't focused on what I needed to do to make my insane plan come together, the concern in his voice wouldn't have hit my ear wrong. I should have been moved that he cared, loved that Sias was showing more affection for me.

Instead, it pissed me off. Which he didn't deserve.

And I wasn't ready for the backlash.

"You're getting cold feet now?" I spat at him, angry and sore. "We go through all this, and now you're worried? If you want to hang back, be my fucking guest. But I'm not about to slow down because you suddenly give a shit."

There was no swirl of color in his eyes, no fade from one hue to another as emotions tangled together. The change was fast, a flash fire of bright yellow. Rage tinted his gaze into a firestorm ready to burn me alive.

"Suddenly give a shit?" he echoed, impossibly calm.

And because I never learn my lesson and had the "poke the bear" gene, I didn't back down.

A lot of unresolved things were coming out tonight, for better or worse, because neither one of us had ever prioritized therapy.

"You never gave a shit about sending me to kill people for you. You sent me after Omar, almost got me killed more than once, but now that you're being pulled along for the ride you suddenly care that I'm a little bruised. Are you worried about me, Sias, or are you worried about yourself?"

He let go of my hand, his gaze trying to burn me alive. He didn't move, his body a pillar of golden, molten rage.

"I didn't give a shit about you." His words were a cold slap that made me wince. "You were a fun ride. A momentary distraction. When I learned how proficient you were at causing chaos, I reveled in being able to aim you where I wanted and setting you loose. You were consistently, profoundly unmanageable and completely unpredictable. Dangerous. An asset. A fantastic weapon and a convenient, fun fuck."

I felt my fists curling, lungs burning as I held in the fire I wanted to unleash on him. My eyes were stinging, and I didn't want him to see the tears building, but I was frozen in place as my heart threatened to break.

All of my fears were true. He finally admitted what I had known all along. I didn't think it was possible for my heart to break any more after Zane died, but Sias had been holding it together so well until this moment. He let it all fall into dust.

And then.

He continued.

"When I died," he said, voice still unyielding and firm. "Drowned. I wasn't afraid. I thought I would be, but I wasn't. It was like drifting off into a dream of home. I was losing everything I was and welcomed joining the infinite stream of nothingness. My fear, Dallas Wilde, didn't start until I woke up in your arms. I snapped awake and you were there. You. The asset. The unmanageable chaos. You reached into the void and ripped me out, dove into the waters after me without a second thought."

My lungs shook as I inhaled, my vision clearing when the tears finally broke over the threshold. I didn't dare speak. I couldn't. I was too fragile to do anything but stand very, very still.

"From that moment," Sias whispered, yellow turning acidic green and then forest leaves. "I have been terrified of you. Terrified of you knowing me. Terrified of losing you. Terrified of how you make me feel."

Everything I wanted to say had turned into a solid knot in my throat, and I struggled against it as it calcified into an ache of hope.

"I am not a good man," he confessed, all yellow gone from his vision now. His irises were now emeralds flecked with gold, and they were all mine. "I'm selfish and cruel. I left my harem and family behind and cut ties. I have ghosts, mistakes, and so many enemies. But I will go to hell and back with you. I will help you rip the void open to get Zane back in order to make you happy. I will spit in the face of gods and would topple an empire for you."

He touched my chin with his fingers, lifting my lips toward his. They didn't touch, giving a breath of space to allow for his words to linger between us.

"Don't ever question my love for you again, pet."

If he had more to say, I didn't give him a chance to finish. Sias was pulled into my kiss, my hands holding his face to mine. I was practically clawing at him to bring him closer to me, for our bodies to touch, starved for his attention and affection more than I'd realized. My heart was still fractured and wounded, but able to swell with his words repeating in my mind.

I would hold on to those for as long as he'd let me. For as long as he'd allow me to love him back.

I had loved him for so long that it felt like seeing the sunlight after a decade of storms, new shades of warmth I had never felt finally unveiled. I wanted to stay in that sunshine, to hold him to me and breathe in the feeling of his affections.

His fingers threaded through my hair, thumbs brushing the tears off my cheeks as he swiped his tongue over my lips. I groaned against the sensation, parting my lips to taste him for the first time in months. Gods, he tasted like wine and sex, his skill set shining through as our tongues danced.

"I want nothing more than to taste you," Sias whispered, nipping at my bottom lip. "But you're not perfect yet. Not yet. Not until you get your vampire back."

"Are you serious?" My breath was coming out in freight train huffs from how extraordinarily turned on I was, my body wound up tight and ready to spring into action. "Saints, Sias, I'm ready for a marathon fuck and you're shutting this down? Now ??"

"Yes." His eyes were just the most delightful shade of lusty magenta and emerald green. "I meant what I said about being a very picky eater."

"Oh my God, you're so mean ." I was bowed from how badly my body was being ignored. "You tell me how you feel, get me so happy and horny, and then blame it on the dead guy? God, I am so into you."

"Go make your phone calls and whatever else you need to handle." He gave me a knowing once over. "Then you're going to tell me every single aspect of your plan while you eat some dinner before we leave. Understood?"

"You're an evil bastard, you know that?" I sighed as he lifted an impatient brow. "Fine. But I want pancakes. And extra bacon for leaving me with homework." I pointed at my dick and he rolled his eyes.

"Get to work then, pet. We have death to defy and pancakes to get."