Chapter 16

16

DEVA

“Well this is familiar,”I murmured as we made our way through the courtyard’s shadowed edges, heading towards an outer building that was cozied up to the estate’s high walls. The same damn building I’d jumped off of when breaking in that first night, the place that I’d scoped out the guards on watch as well as any potential threats with my lunar magic.

“Why is that, little jaguar?” Grim asked knowingly.

“No reason,” I chimed, my lips tugging into a smile.

When we reached the side of the building, I didn’t hesitate to grab onto a stone that jutted out and pull myself up. I wouldn’t have minded carrying one of the backpacks, but the fact that I wasn’t made it a bit easier.

“I like this view better than when we were leaving out the balcony window,” Cage said appreciatively as he climbed up behind me. I knew he was talking about staring at my ass, but I was also glad they weren’t making a big deal out of the fact that this wasn’t my first visit to the Nyx estate. Now that I’d told them the full truth, I felt less shame about my past, but I still didn’t like what I’d had to do to survive. It just was what it was.

“Are your parents going to notice the wards being—” Alek’s words were cut off as I pulsed my lunar magic mixed with a bit of shadow magic to create a hole in the wards.

The bubble of the ward became just a bit more transparent where the hole was, and I vaulted myself up so that I landed on top, effortlessly passing through the ward. I looked back to see my men watching me with interest, Grim’s expression the most surprised.

“How did you think I got in?” I asked curiously.

Oz followed after me, then Alek, followed by Cage, Lazaro, and finally Grim. I walked in a careful line along the thick ledge of stone until we were a good distance from the courtyard before I looked down the story or so. I didn’t offer a warning before jumping down, landing in a crouch before straightening myself up, the others dropping and landing next to me.

“Nyet. I’ve decided I don’t like that.” Alek appeared behind me, running a hand over my waist. “Too dangerous.”

Tossing my head back, I offered him a smile. “I’ve done much more dangerous⁠—”

“Still don’t like it.” He nipped my ear, causing my center to tighten, before he gently tugged my hand forward. I took a brief moment to look back at the estate, feeling a surge of guilt. The Nyx family had been extremely welcoming, but for that very reason I felt I needed to handle this threat myself rather than draw the danger to their doorstep.

“It won’t take them long to figure out what’s happened,” Grim said. “Hopefully we’ll be outside of the city by then.”

“It’s a long walk,” I warned. I had a feeling that outside of Oz and myself, none of them knew what they were in for.

Most of the luxury real estate was located farther south by Garnet Hall, but Grim’s house was in central Carmina. Because of that, when we stepped outside of the high walls of their home, we were greeted by very familiar sights and sounds.

Carmina was a metropolitan center that seemed to exist in the past. I hadn’t traveled to other territories or planes, but Carmina felt dated and tired. The lack of maintenance on the gothic architecture resulted in a disheveled, broken-down appearance, a dark and depressing representation of what it must have looked like in its prime.

The cobblestone streets were covered in sludge and mud, the gutters overrun with garbage and debris, and the townhomes that had once housed families were now largely condemned. The windows were covered in cardboard and other materials to keep the weather and wind out, the glass having been shattered long ago. The scent of smoke, rain, and something far more pungent floated through the air, and despite being a highly populated area, it felt…desolate. Empty. I knew it wasn’t—I knew most people were hiding and waiting to come out at night or when it wasn’t raining, but the energy it gave was lifeless.

It probably wasn’t like this everywhere in Carmina—hell, I knew it wasn’t like this in the South—but the large majority within city limits lived this way, the silence in our group stemming from the realization of just how bad it could be. I swallowed and pulled my hood up further, my gaze darting through every darkened alleyway and nook that we passed, noting the eyes watching us with wary and cautious glances.

When Oz’s hand smoothed over my back, I looked up at him and his lavender gaze filled with understanding. The two of us came from a far different place than the others. It wasn’t a bad or good thing, but it also couldn’t be understated how differently Cage, Lazaro, Grim, and Alek had grown up.

“We’re going to take the easiest way out of here, but it will be about a thirty-minute walk, so hang tight,” I told the men. They didn’t look bothered by the prospect of walking in the light drizzle, and right now I didn’t mind in the least either. It allowed my mind to wander a bit, thinking about the conversation I’d had with Alek last night about my magic.

“Your best defense, zaya, is going to be learning to use your different types of magic simultaneously, for both offense and defense. When you use your magics in combination, there are so many more possibilities,” Alek explained simply. The sound of Oz flipping through the pages of a book sounded softly in the background as the others talked near the balcony, but I was fully invested in Alek’s explanation.

“Like what?” I asked curiously, not feeling nearly as apprehensive about learning now that I’d come to terms with my mutated magic being useful. I mean, I had literally healed myself—things didn’t get more useful than that.

“If you can learn to use your runes, you can create combinations of your magic that are more purposeful and less instinctual. I know you use your magic in combination sometimes, but this would be more direct. Like creating a shadow weapon that’s enhanced with lunar magic, or an orb of lunar magic that can drain the blood from someone trying to attack you.”

“How do I learn how to do that?”

“You understand the runes under your skin and how to light them up.” Alek motioned for my hand, flipping it so that the inside of my wrist was showing. Placing his right forearm next to mine, Alek closed his eyes in concentration, his arm beginning to glow as his runes lit up in several lines.

The glow seemed to seep into my skin and light up my own runes, though not nearly as brightly.

“Damn,” I murmured. “I know some runes—like I recognize those are lunar,” I said, motioning to a grouping near the crook of my elbow, “but I’m not sure about the rest. Do you just memorize them, or⁠—”

“Memorize them, read them, know them—and then be able to call on them,” Alek instructed. “I suspect the second part will come easy to you, but the first part may require some study.”

“The good news,” Oz chimed in, “is that I have a book of all known runes.”

“Of course you do.” I looked up at him, his eyes flashing with heat. “Where is it?”

“Other room. I had it sent over along with most of my library.” He shrugged. “Although I have shit spread out throughout the city.”

I nibbled my lip in thought as he went to grab the book, his comment sparking an important question that began rolling around in my head.

He said he had stuff throughout the city…but where had he stayed before DIA? Had he kept the apartment we stayed in together? I knew it was unlikely, but there was a part of me that would like to see it.

I wasn’t positive why, exactly, but the feeling held true.

In the light of today, though, I knew why. I wanted to see it to prove to myself how much had changed and how different I was. As we walked, I kept finding myself looking for excuses to ask him about the apartment building.

“Hey Oz.” I tilted my head up as we turned another corner, the streets familiar as ever as we grew closer to the true ‘downtown’ district where vendors, shops, and supply sellers were. It also was fairly close to the city’s exit, the distance making it easy for farmers to travel in for the day. Or at least I had to assume that was the thought process.

Today it seemed even less busy than normal, but maybe this was the new ‘norm’ with the rumors of Astaroth floating around. The public may not have been privy to knowledge of his actions as much as we were, but there was a reason so many people feared the bastard.

He wasn’t quiet or shy about what he had planned or was doing.

“Yes, starlight?”

“The apartment from before…”

“We’re actually stopping there,” he said, his hand tightening in mine. “I want to grab something I keep there.”

“Okay cool,” I whispered, trying to not sound too eager. The others had begun talking amongst themselves while I’d been lost in my thoughts, seeming a bit more relaxed than they’d been at the start of this trip. I just hoped that would stay the case when we reached the apartment.

After about five more minutes, we turned down a darkened alleyway. Rats scuttled into the shadows, but they didn’t bother me. My attention was focused on the fifth floor. The fire exit, a metal contraption that looked so rusted I worried it was going to disintegrate right before my eyes, shifted in the wind that accelerated through the narrow corridor.

“What are we doing?” Cage asked.

“Stopping by the apartment I stayed at with Oz,” I explained as Oz tugged the fire escape’s ladder down.

“Do you still own it?” Lazaro asked.

“Does anyone own anything around here?” I murmured.

“Exactly,” Oz agreed, before pulling himself up the first ladder. I followed, Oz finally elaborating after a moment. “Yes, it’s mine—I wasn’t going to let anyone touch it after Deva stayed in it.”

My cheeks flushed, but thankfully no one saw since we were all climbing to the fifth floor window—the one I had snuck out of two years ago. The window creaked open, and Oz folded his frame to fit through. I climbed in behind him, my gaze immediately dancing around the space.

The apartment was on the top floor and had arched gothic fifteen foot ceilings covered in stone. The windows mostly narrow stained glass designs, except for on the back wall where we entered. There was no warmth to the space really—there never had been— and on the far wall was a door covered in locks.

I had a feeling this had been used as a storage space originally and that all of the ‘home’ amenities had been added by Oz—like the small kitchen. There was a bathroom through the small door to my right, the size of a closet. I swallowed, leaning into Oz as I stared at the space in wonder.

Not because it was anything out of the ordinary, but because of the emotion that crashed over me, reminding me of how much everything had changed.

“Come here,” Oz murmured, kissing the side of my head.

I could feel a few emotions crowding our bond, most of them light and curious as the others explored the space, but Lazaro specifically was upset, and I didn’t have to ask why. Before I would’ve assumed he was upset about a million things having to do with my own self-worth, but I knew it wasn’t based on that. It was because he didn’t like the idea of me lacking in any way, and I truly did understand. They may have had more luxurious lives materialistically, but I still felt raw anger at the mention of Alek’s father or the way that Lazaro was overloaded by magic by his own family. It was impossible to not feel protective, especially when you loved someone as much as I loved them.

As we moved towards a few pieces of worn furniture and a couch that looked newer, Oz crouched down and removed a piece from the elaborate stonework flooring. I titled my head as he removed three more, revealing a metal box in a shallow cubby.

“Lots of places like this in the apartment?” I asked, looking at the surfaces of the room in a new light.

“More than I can count, starlight.” He stood up and opened the metal box, and my throat caught as I stared at the objects inside.

It went without saying that when I left Astaroth’s place, I had done so with almost nothing. But there’d been a few precious objects I managed to escape with, three of which I’d assumed lost until now. I should have known better. I also should have looked or asked for them, but at the age of sixteen, terrified and starving, I’d just wanted a place to stay, my thoughts focused on survival rather than material things.

The first was a leatherbound journal small enough to fit in my jacket pocket. The pages were stained and worn, a leather strap holding them together, as the book warmed under my fingers. I knew that Oz hadn’t opened it. I didn’t know how, but I could sense that, and while I’d always written in code, not wanting Astaroth to know my thoughts in case he found it, I appreciated him not reading what amounted to a diary.

I tucked the journal in my oversized jacket pocket, knowing it contained information that could be useful if we needed to go directly to Astaroth. I didn’t think I’d forgotten much since leaving—that shit was burned into my memory—but it wasn’t a bad idea to take a look. My hand reached out to grab the second item.

“A doll?” Cage appeared by my side, examining the small stuffed item that probably appeared a bit strange considering I’d hand sewn it.

“I wasn’t allowed to have toys,” I explained. “So I made my own when I was like…nine, maybe. When he found it, I thought that he would take it and destroy it, but it ended up giving him inspiration for my nickname. I’m sure it was in part to remind me of everything that he ‘allowed’ me. I just was fucking happy he’d let me keep something.”

Even if it was a bit demented looking. The small figurine was made of silver material stitched with black thread. The arms were different lengths, the dark blue hair was patchy, and one of the button eyes was missing—but the blue dress she wore had held up well. I ran my fingers over the doll’s missing eye before putting her back in the metal container. Unlike the present Astaroth had left me at school, this doll created a warm sensation in the center of my chest, reminding me of when I had the courage to create something I knew damn well hadn’t been allowed.

“She’ll be safer here for now,” I murmured. By now the others had gathered, and the final object was in a way much easier to explain…but also tainted with probably the heaviest of memories.

“We were allowed one object for self-defense outside of our magic,” I picked up the black onyx athame, the blade glinting dangerously—not an ounce of rust on it. “This was mine. It was what I had to use to carve runes into the unblessed I killed.”

My voice lacked the emotion that usually accompanied such an intense statement, but I had to keep myself detached. I wanted to stare at the weapon with disdain, but it had also protected me many times over. From men like Ozul, for example.

“The unblessed you were ordered to kill,” Grim reminded me. I offered him a small thankful smile for the attempt to make me feel better. It worked, to a tiny extent.

I slipped the athame into my other jacket pocket, looking up at Oz. “Thank you for saving those.”

“You can come back and get the box when we’re done,” he promised, pressing a kiss to the top of my head before putting away the doll. Oz may have not considered himself romantic, and maybe in a traditional sense he wasn’t…but if he hadn’t already told me he loved me—which he for sure had, and showed me a million times over—this would have done it. This preservation of the few items I’d taken from my childhood ‘home’ meant the world to me now that I was no longer a fearful little girl.

“Anything else?” Lazaro asked. His eyes were dark, but his overall disposition was a bit more relaxed as he watched me.

“No, unless there was anything else you wanted to grab?” I said, directing the question to Oz.

“Just wanted to remind you how far you’ve come, starlight,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. I sighed, trying to not seem obsessively infatuated with the man.

“Good. Let’s go find this bastard,” Cage sang happily.

“Hopefully we’ll find Ozul as well,” Grim agreed, causing Lazaro to nod sharply in agreement.

As we made our way back to the window, my hands slid into my pockets that now held my journal and dagger. Oz didn’t realize it, but he’d given me far more than just some of my possessions back.

He’d given me a piece of myself. Now I knew exactly how I would kill Astaroth after draining the magic from him. I would use the same dagger he’d ordered me to make hundreds of kills with to carve runes into his body until he bled out enough that it made up for every ounce of unblessed witch blood he’d made me spill.