Chapter 4

CHAPTER

FOUR

You said you can always find me.

Find me now.

The chill of the death magic coiling up from my altar raised the hair along my arms. The fleeting kiss of cold at my fingertips felt fragile, a breath away from vanishing back into the void. Tangled spider silk draped over my fingers, the threads barely there at all.

"Patience," Funus reminded me gently. "Gentle but persistent. This is not your realm, so you need to be invited in."

I wished there was an easier way to knock at death's door and get the results I wanted. There was the direct approach, which was me getting as close to physically dying as possible without actually crossing over, but that left me too vulnerable to do much else. Going to the void through a crappy death alter was much safer and at least kept me in control, but goddamn was it ineffective.

But hey, I guess it's better than dying.

My fingers curled slower than last time, allowing the death magic to sit comfortably with me without getting tugged too quickly. I forced myself to be still, to pull in slow breaths and hold them before attempting to move the threads a little bit more.

Icy trails moved over my skin like scurrying spiders, jumping from my fingers to my wrist before crawling up my arm. I moved at a glacial pace, one knuckle bending at a time, before my fist finally closed around the bundle of silky threads.

"Good," Funus whispered. "Very good. Ground yourself, acolyte. Keep yourself present in this moment."

The threads had never felt so tangible, so solid, or as real as they did in that moment. They had gone from silky threads to brittle hair, the weight bowing them down toward the floor.

I exhaled, lifting my eyelids enough to peer down at the mouse lying in the center of my ritual altar. It was still frozen in death, unmoving and unresponsive to the magic flowing around it.

Find me now . Find me now, Zane. I'm here.

I began to caress the threads with my fingers, feeling them slide across my palm. Gentle. Careful. The magic was holding firm with my movement.

A spark of cold—sudden and sharp—swam up my arm like a ghostly tendril. It was nothing like the Kraken grip I used to feel when the scythe was with me, but it was the most progress I had ever felt thus far.

My heart began to hammer, a thunder of promise beating in my chest as I tightened my grip around the magic resting in my palm.

The tendril snaked up further.

I saw my breath fog.

The mouse's foot twitched.

Then the threads began to break, one by one, as the tendril fell away like someone had snapped the window shut.

My chest froze, heart crumpling in on itself as everything began to slip away, falling apart just as I'd had the smallest hint of hope.

Not this time. Not again. I wasn't going to limp away.

I shut my eyes tight and pulled the collar of Zane's jacket closer, dipping my chin to take in a full breath of grave flowers and ozone, of grief, and love, and loss.

If grief transcends death, maybe it could put in a good word for me. Maybe it could cross the floor and hold the door a little longer.

It hurt to hold his scent in my lungs, to remember how he had felt in my arms, how he pressed his forehead to mine and swore to me— swore to me —that he'd find me before he died. He had been my vampire. Mine.

And they took him away from me.

I had let them take him away from me.

"Dallas," Funus sounded worried. "Ease back. You need to calm yourself."

Cold rushed me, coiling up my arm like a serpent dragging its belly across my skin. The threads in my palm had thinned, but didn't melt away completely, solidifying into wire that bit down with purpose.

I breathed in deep again.

Zane's hair had been between my fingers, his lips pressed to mine, fangs grazing my tongue.

He had saved my life. He had found me in the dark. He had held me close and kept me safe and I killed him .

"Dallas!" Funus was far away when the room went dark.

My palm was burning from the angry threads slicing into my skin. The snake coiled around my arm bit down at the joint of my shoulder and punctured bone deep.

It knocked the breath out of me, which came out as a black cloud.

Wet thrashing on the floor knocked out a candle, the flame licking up away from the floor. The mouse was screaming, its tail pinwheeling, eyes red and wide.

The floor was opening.

A sea of black rippled under the screaming, undead mouse.

Someone was telling me to stop, but there was no turning back now.

I pulled the threads with all I had, and reached for the void to rip the door open wide.

The slap of the magic releasing me was violent enough to knock me backwards, and I cracked my back against the bed frame as the door to the void slammed shut.

I felt everything at once: the shock of the threads being gone, the rush of warmth bringing me back from the grip of death, the brightness of the room I found myself in once again.

And the searing pain in my mutated arm.

I had seen my body transform when I had played with death magic, seen my flesh melt away to reveal the charred, black bone of a void infused skeleton. This was nothing like before, nothing like when I had the power of a deity's weapon on my side.

My skin cracked like I was made of cooling stone, a rolling black cloud leaking from the gaps like my bones had been replaced with vapor.

"Shit!" I announced to the room. "Oh, shit! "

"Dallas, to me!" Funus was yelling. "Quickly!"

I crawled over to Funus, pulling Zane's jacket off me to see the extent of the damage. My entire arm from fingertips to shoulder was smoldering smoke, skin flaking away like ash and reforming into inky scales.

"Place your corrupted hand on me," he ordered, eyes flaring as bright as the sun. "Do it now, child, before it is too late."

I placed my hand on his skull, splaying my fingers out to wrap my grip around him. His bright eyes danced with light, rolling in amber flames as he spoke a language only known by the dead. The smoke roiling under my cracked skin began to bleed out, swirling across the floor before seeping between his teeth.

Orange flames darkened into a black cloud, his jaw opened wide to accept the corruption from my arm in one long, seemingly endless inhale. My skin knitted together where it had solidified and broke, the gray replaced by my normal flesh tone. By the time the tips of my fingers had their natural form back, Funus's eyes were nothing but black fog.

His jaw snapped shut and the smoke in his eye sockets faded into nothing.

The empty skull sat silent in front of me, cold and still.

I was nailed to the floor in horror, staring at the lifeless skull that had been coaching me just seconds ago.

There was nothing.

Just bone and grief.

"Funus?" I felt my heart stop, a cold so deep in my marrow I thought it was going to freeze me solid.

I reached out to touch him, to try and undo what I had done, my mind an endless vacuum of horror as I tried to imagine telling Barnaby that I had taken Funus away from him.

From all of us.

Funus's gasp made me scream in an octave I didn't think I could achieve, and I had a full fucking heart attack as the skull's eyes flared back to their bright orange once again.

"Goodness, that was a tough spell to conjure," he said through a breath. "Got a bit of a headache from that one, if you can believe it."

"Fucking Saint, man!" I grasped at the pain in my chest. "You scared the soul out of my body! I thought you were gone!"

"Well, technically I was for a second. I had to put that void piece back in place." He swiveled his eyes up to me. "That was incredibly reckless, Dallas. You almost got yourself turned into something horrible. That was a careless, rookie blunder that should have killed you—what are you doing?"

"I'm hugging you. I'm hugging the crap out of you." I fell backwards against the bed with Funus pinned to my chest. "That just took years off my life. Barnaby would have murdered me with that stupid penis cup he smuggled out of the store before it closed. What a way to go."

"Please," Funus snorted. "He'd kill you with the ivory fertility comb, not the phallic chalice. More practical that way. And I was serious about the blunder, Dallas."

"What the hell was that, exactly?" I gave my healed hand a flex and angled Funus so he could see my face. "I've used death magic before and I went toasty skeleton, not smoky ash monster."

Funus's lack of eyebrows made it difficult for me to tell when he was frowning, but the tone of his voice held the dubious tone of a wise, old wizard.

"There is a difference between channeling necromancy and reaching into the void. What you did was swing the door open wider than you were ready for and reached into the void to try and take a short cut. The void reached out in response."

"It wasn't a short cut," I argued. "I thought I was making progress. I thought Zane's jacket could help me stay grounded."

The skull was flummoxed by my answer, and sputtered in a way that showed his ancient age.

" Grounded ? You thought that was grounded?!"

"Well, no. Not now," I mumbled. "In hindsight, it maybe did the opposite. But hey, I got the mouse to move!"

"Dallas," he scolded. "I promised you that I would guide you. I will uphold my word, but you cannot do that again." His fiery gaze cooled, orange smolder melting down into a patient flame. "Barnaby would kill me too, you know. If something were to happen to you."

"I'm pretty sure he likes you more than me," I teased, but let the joke go when he dropped his eyes at my response. "Yeah, okay. That's fair. I don't want him to murder you either."

"Promise me," Funus pleaded gently. "That you will never reach into the void like that again. Not until you are ready."

"Promise," I lied.

"Thank you," he said around a long breath of relief. "I think that's enough practice for today, wouldn't you say? I'd love to rest a while and get the taste of void out of my mouth."

"What does that taste like? Also, how can you taste, exactly?" I set him aside as I picked up the mouse from the floor, the body thawed and disgustingly soft.

"Like cigarette ashes and spoiled meat," Funus answered like he wanted to spit. "I don't recommend it."

Twig was watching us from beside Zane's ashes, ears angled back to clearly show that she did not find our antics amusing.

I gave the mouse a little jiggle in her direction.

"What, it comes to life from manipulating life and death and suddenly you don't want it anymore? Picky, picky."

She went back to napping, and I decided I should probably get a new mouse corpse.

"I could go for a drink. Maybe three." I scooped up the head while still holding the soggy mouse and escorted them out of the room. "I wonder what Sias has stashed in his bar."

"I'd love a glass of wine myself. Too bad I lack the anatomy to enjoy it." Funus sighed, mourning the loss of such refined things as skin and taste buds. "But I suppose that is a small price to pay for immortality in the service to the Goddess."

"If you say so."

I decided to toss the mouse before returning Funus to his roommate, and dropped the damp rodent into the trash near the garage. The sound of broadcasters chatting away about ReNew pulled me in like a curious hornet ready to sting, and soon I was standing in Sias's media room next to Barnaby.

"What is this?" I asked as we entered, passing Funus over to him.

"Apparently Florence Pierce just announced a new wave of exclusive products that are said to aid in reversing aging." Barnaby accepted Funus and cradled him facing the monitor so he could watch as well. "Her stock price has shot through the roof."

"Of course it has," I said, or rather growled. I was pissed. The talking heads on the show flapped their gums about Florence's "revolutionary" product, which had launched only for diamond members of ReNew. Each tiny vial of the coveted serum had a price tag that was so outlandish, it was only known to the people who were privileged enough to afford it. This, of course, came out at the same time ReNew was launching a slew of other products available for the rest of the cretins, promising similar though less potent results.

Seeing a "mineral infused blouse," which was just a fucking ugly shirt with sparkly threads, selling for almost two hundred dollars because she promised it would help your heart beat longer made my blood boil.

And don't even get me started on the scented candles she was peddling that somehow smelled like "Immortality." Give me a break.

"She's using the scythe." I wasn't finished growling. "She's somehow using it to make these stupid ass products and getting richer from it."

"This is just what she's willing to let be public," Barnaby pointed out. "Who knows what other schemes she has in the works behind closed doors. What damage she's already caused in the medical field."

"I have to find where she's keeping that damn thing. She doesn't get to wring out more money while I stand here with a soggy mouse and no vampire."

"A what?" Barnaby asked, but I was already storming out of the room. "Is that a euphemism?"

My heart might be fractured into a million pieces, but it still had the capacity to thunder with rage. How dare that evil witch exploit my fucking scythe to make more money as well as keep Zane from me. I had to find where she was keeping it stashed, had to hunt it down so I could rip everything away from her like she had done to me.

I just needed a lead. A thread to follow. Something tangible.

The annoying thing was that Florence Pierce was smart. She wasn't going to leave an easy path to follow.

She'd make a mistake. She'd forget a detail. She'd make the wrong person mad, someone who'd be willing to betray her.

I'd find it and when I did, I was going to kick her ass.

I went searching for Sias, wanting to know if he was able to "extract" more information from our old pal Reynolds. My first stop was his bedroom, which was a giant space that housed all the fun goodies you'd expect a rich, deadly sexy incubus to have. The whole suite was bigger than my previous apartment, complete with an orgy ready bed equipped with hidden compartments for all the toys, straps, oils and other assorted bells and whistles.

And probably literal bells and whistles, if that's what you were into.

I had spent many a night in that room, but I'd never woken up there the next morning. The "no sleep over" policy was law in Sias's home, and I knew better than to ask twice.

Striking out of the sex palace bedroom, I traveled further into the house than I usually did, passing a few vacant guest rooms, an extra shower room I didn't know existed, what looked like a wine storage room with a tasting bar, and ended up at a set of double doors which had one swung open wide.

It had been two months since I moved into Sias's place, and a good year and some change of visiting before then, and I'd had no damn idea that the man had a game room.

Scratch that.

It was a whole fucking arcade.

Billard tables—yes, plural—sat under hooded lights with stained glass shades, comfortably sharing floor space with a few pinball machines lining the wall. I strolled past an air hockey table ready for action only to find Sias Llon'nai, head of the Llon'nai tower, and stoic sex daddy of his lair, throwing a bowling ball with expert precision.

The sound of pins cascading down after a masterful strike filled the air, and he stepped back to glance up at the score displayed over the stripe of polished wood.

He only noticed I was standing behind him when he turned to retrieve the ball spat out by the machine near his seat.

"You bowl ?" I erupted before he could speak. "For real?"

"Seems like a silly question to ask given we are standing in my bowling alley."

"You never once mentioned you bowl. I never even knew about this room until today." I did another slow spin to take everything in. "You have pinball machines. Darts. What the fuck, Sias?"

Sias didn't defend himself, nor did he even attempt to explain further. He simply presented an extra ball waiting on a rack and said, "Join me."

"So you can stomp me?" I eyed the score, and even not knowing a damn thing about the game, the amount of Xs on the screen seemed like a good thing. "I've never played before."

"I'll teach you." Sias tapped at the computer screen controlling the display, and the impressive score was wiped away. After a few more taps, our names were assigned some rows with a clear scoreboard.

"You knock the white things down, right?" I snorted, yanking the extra ball off the rack. "I think I can handle that."

"There's an art to it, like all things. Come." He waved me forward, instructing me to stand near the strip.

"If I had a dollar for how many times you've said that to me."

"And like those previous times, I promise you'll have the time of your life if you follow my instruction," the incubus purred, placing one hand on my lower back and the other along the fingers I was using to cradle the ball. "Will you be a good boy for me?"

"You know I won't," I teased back. "But you can teach me to throw some balls."

Sias hummed, a smirk tugging at his lips, his eyes a rosy shade.

"Take two steps, swing back and let the ball slide free of your grip. Don't throw it, slide it."

My hand was brought back as I moved, Sias guiding my underhanded toss in a mime before I tried it myself. The ball bounced from my first attempt, barreled down the strip like a drunk hedgehog before landing in the gutter.

"Yikes." I winced. "That one doesn't count. It was my first throw."

"Is that the rule?" he asked with mock surprise.

"Of course that's the rule. C'mon, man. That's like bowling 101. The first throw doesn't count if it sucks."

Sias slid his fingers into his ball and hefted it up, waiting as the pins reset.

I watched with interest the way his shirt stayed tucked into his slacks, even when he was throwing around the weighted ball down a wooden runway. There had to be some sort of charisma-based charm he had on that belt to keep everything in place, because it was unnatural how his strong shoulders and back could flex the way they did without his shirt popping loose.

The ease in his strength brought ghosts to my skin, faded memories of his touch. A wave of goose bumps lifted across my arms when he stood back to watch the pins fall, eyeing them with the same passive, pleased look he often had when he watched me obeying a command.

I hated the stranglehold sorrow had over my libido.

I hated how grief kept me distant, kept me from feeling anything other than a phantom of what my desires once were.

I hated how it was keeping me cold.

It also wasn't lost on me that there were two empty crystal vials sitting on the table next to Sias's jacket, meaning he had been starving all day.

And I had done nothing to help him.

I was momentarily consumed in feeling like an asshole when Sias's voice slapped me out of my depression daydream.

"How did the lesson go?"

"Fine." I busied myself with putting my fingers over the vent, the cool air calming my nerves. I wasn't quite ready to admit that I might have almost killed myself and Funus because I had lost control, so I piloted the conversation away from my less than satisfactory necromancy lesson. "I saw on the news that Florence has announced some new products aimed to help restore youth and some other bullshit."

"Oh?" He sounded bored, his attention on his throw. While my first throw was a meandering example of mediocrity, his was a lightning strike that knocked all the pins down in one swift movement.

"I think she's using the scythe to make this shit," I clarified. "The serum she made headlines with shot her stocks up. She's doing exactly what she said she would, which means she's going to be moving into the health field next. Did Reynolds give you anything else? Any clue where she might be hiding my scythe?"

Sias's brows creased in thought, eyes clouding with ocean waves periodically sliced by traces of yellow anger.

"Apparently Florence mentioned a ‘new facility' to Hei while Reynolds was present, but they never elaborated on the details when he was around. It was implied that this place wasn't exactly known to her investors, and that its existence might ruffle some feathers."

"Yeah, I would imagine screwing around with ancient necromancy magic to make products would raise some eyebrows." I grabbed my ball once the machine spit it out and went back to the starting position. "I wonder if she's stupid enough to have this mysterious ‘facility' within the city."

"She's too smart for that." Sias moved behind me, sliding his fingers over mine. The touch sent an electric trace over my skin, arcing from my hand over my shoulder and zigzagged down my spine. "Let the ball slip free, don't throw. One smooth motion. It will keep it from bouncing."

"I know she is, but damn that would make things convenient." I exhaled through the sparks dancing over me. "How do you keep it from sliding into the gutter?"

"Practice." Sias slowly pulled my arm back and guided me through a throw. Once he was satisfied I was moving correctly, he hummed deliciously and gave my arm a blissful squeeze. "Well done. Now you try."

He stepped back and let me try my first official throw, empowered and a little dizzy.

I knocked down a total of two pins.

"I'm going to be a master bowler in no time."

"Kegler," Sias said, grabbing his ball.

"Isn't that when you clench your?—"

"No. It's not." He motioned for me to scoot aside. "Since we know Florence is likely holding the scythe in a recently built or acquired building, it will help us narrow our search. I can have public records pulled, and maybe your DHAP friends can do some investigating."

"My DHAP connections currently aren't working, so I don't know what they can provide in a professional capacity. It's still worth looping them in though." I watched Sias swing and slide the ball in one fluid motion, another bright X for his scorecard. "You're not even trying to go easy on me."

"You don't like me going easy on you." Sias strolled back to me. "You've made that very clear in the past."

"Touché. But for the record, I'm a real sore loser when it comes to things outside of fucking." I grabbed my ball. "I will pout."

"Noted. I'm still not going to hold back, darling. Now I just get to beat you and see you pout. I'm having a great night." He rotated his wrist to peer at his watch. "I'll help you get a strike, then we should head out to Dex. She'll be ready for us by then."

"You are mighty confident that I'm going to ace this within an hour." I held up my fingers to indicate my current score. "I have two down thus far."

"And you're about to get ten."

"So you say," I hedged. "You're going to feel really goofy when I flub this after sounding so cocky."

"And you are going to make an ass of yourself when it works." He moved me to the starting line, hands on my shoulders so he could center me.

"What got you into bowling?" I asked over my shoulder. "I can't imagine you hung out in bowling alleys a ton as a kid."

"I wasn't allowed outside of the boarding school until I was seventeen." Sias angled my shoulders. "Place your foot forward."

"Boarding school?" I complied with his instructions as I continued my questions. "Is that pretty common for incubi?"

"From my station, yes. I was a product of a breeding agreement between two established houses, and it was expected that I attend the academy during my formative years. Back straight." He pressed on my lower back. "You want the ball to go right down the middle."

"So, no skipping school and hanging out in arcades, huh?" I smirked back at him and he pushed my head back center. "No rebellious years? Smoking in the bathroom, cutting class, going against Mommy and Daddy's plan?"

"No. I kept my head down, graduated top of my class, used my wealth and influence to obtain an empire, and killed anyone who got in my way." My chin was lifted with his fingers, his chest brushing my shoulder. "Aim for the center pin. Keep your gaze straight."

"All of that tracks." I moved as he instructed, and inhaled when he told me to. "So, then how did you end up a master Kegel?"

"Kegler." Sias moved my elbow back. "Take two steps, inhale, and slide. Don't hesitate, and don't let the ball bounce." His breath slid over my cheek as he spoke, a wash of tobacco and amber kissed me as his hair moved. "Understood?"

I nodded, and he stepped back.

My feet moved, taking two full steps as my arm swung back, my grip releasing just as Sias sucker punched me from behind.

"My ex-wife got me into bowling."

"Your what ?" I spun around, almost crashing to the floor as my foot slipped on the slick wood. Somewhere behind me, a collection of pins exploded.

"You got a strike." Sias pointed to the board. "As I promised."

"You have a wife?" I almost slipped again as I stormed over. "Since fucking when?"

"Ex-wife," he repeated, way too calm. "I divorced her, and my other spouses when I left my harem ten years ago."

My entire world spun clockwise as my brain tried to unpack this info.

"You told me you hated harems."

"I do." His gaze was back on me, dark blue and trending teal. "I was in one for five years, and I was miserable."

"What happened?" I asked before I could filter it properly. "Shit. That's rude. It's none of my business."

Sias looked amused, a smirk teasing on his lips.

"One of the things that attracted me to you was your reluctance to talk about the past. I don't like revisiting my failures. I sure as hell don't want to share them." His teal eyes were clouding over with somber waves of aqua and soft gray. "Considering how much we've been through, and likely will go through, it seems a little juvenile that I keep sidestepping this conversation."

Obviously, Sias had a past before me. I knew better than to think for a second that the guy didn't have a trail of hearts behind him given he was at least a decade older than me, but I was always shit with guessing demon ages. I never in a million years would have guessed he was married, or part of a damn harem.

Mr. Nothing Complicated wouldn't even let me sleep over after a stretch of fucking like rabbits. Imagining him in domestic bliss sounded like a fan fiction I'd crafted after getting drunk on wine coolers while binging romantic comedies.

Sias was a stoic, stoney businessman with an insatiable appetite and a small collection of favorites he sometimes shared at parties. He was absolutely not a husband.

"You don't owe me your past," I said. "Even with all the shit we've been through, and will go through. I mean, we've got literal portals to death opening up around us and a crazed woman making trinkets out of ancient magic. We have plenty going on, but I'm never going to shake you down for your history, Sias."

"It's not a debt, it's a gift," he corrected. "Given freely."

My poor, fractured heart thumped around in my chest, bruised but thrilled to have a sting of happiness creep in.

"Okay," I hedged. "Then why did you leave? Why keep it a secret?"

"I expected too much." Sias watched the pins being reset, lost in a memory for a few blinks. Aqua clouded with gray grew dark with sapphire regret. "From myself and them. I wasn't enough to keep us strong and together, which was an impossible burden. When the cracks started to form early in the marriage, we didn't stand a chance. It was a house built on sand, and I limped away with pieces missing."

"I'm sorry." I felt uneasy standing in the silence that followed his confession, my hands itching to try and reach for him. "One person can't keep a family together. That's not really fair."

"No. But one is enough to shatter it," he whispered, and I felt those words like arrows in my chest. "We mortals are fickle, fragile creatures."

"Yeah." I rubbed at my aching arrow wounds. "Sorry I don't have cool powers to make you feel better like you do for me. But…" I trailed off, almost losing the steam to continue before I forced myself to push through the discomfort. "…thank you. For letting me know you a little more. For trusting me."

Sias's eyes washed into a lavender field, and I stood in the middle of it.

"Trust," he said softly. "I think we've earned a little of that."

It felt nice to take a full breath without feeling the pinch of loss, even for just a second.

"Yeah," I agreed. "I think so."

Sias had given me a piece of his trust. It was rare, precious and fragile, and it was placed in my grubby hands.

I wish I could say I held it with the care it deserved.