13. Cassandra

CASSANDRA

Something pats at my cheek, almost hard enough to be considered a slap. I wince, trying to turn away from the abuse but something else catches my chin. My face is rattled until I groan, feebly pushing at whatever it is to get it to stop.

“Uh-uh, witch,” a smoky voice says, almost as if they’re annoyed with me. “I need you to wake the hell up. I might be able to kick their asses, but I don’t want to waste my time. So, you need to wake up and be on your own two feet so Ambrose doesn’t try anything stupid. They’re all already buzzing around like a pissed-on hornets’ nest.”

Blearily, I crack my eyes open. There’s a ceiling light bright enough that I raise my hand to try to block it out. Someone is silhouetted above me and I don’t recognize the voice. I peer around, trying to get a sense of location when the smell of ground coffee hits me. Combined with the exposed bricks and eclectic furniture, I realize I’m at Black Death Beanery—but how?

“Are you always this slow on the uptake? I swear you never were when I was in you,” the same voice grates out and then strong hands grip my shoulders and forcibly pull me up into a sitting position. My head spins; I throw out a hand to keep my balance but it’s not necessary for more than a moment. I blink, clearing the spots from my vision and it’s not Darcelle in front of me.

“Wha—who?” I rasp out, my mouth filled with sand.

The woman with warm brown skin and pitch-black hair rolls her eyes. Eyes that are a wine red, with a cat-like pupil, framed with thick black lashes and perfectly arched brows.

She raises a hand between our faces and snaps a couple times. I go nearly cross-eyed as I stare stupidly at the two-inch talons painted a matte chartreuse. My eyes running from her hand to her arm, up to her shoulders and across her tight, black leather-clad torso, I finally look at her face again. A face I haven’t seen for over a hundred and fifty years.

“Eris?” I blurt out, no doubt sounding like an idiot. “But how? You were gone. We were dying? I failed to kill the soul and?—”

She presses her hand to my mouth, shushing me. “Were you always this dimwitted? I swear you were intelligent when we first made the bargain.”

I jerk my head back, frowning. “You don’t have to be so rude, you know.”

Eris rolls her eyes. “Yes, yes, manners and all that. I’ve always found manners get in the way when time is of the essence, and if you want to save your mate and finally finish this bargain of ours, I need you to pull your shit together fast.”

A door opens and in walks Darcelle with a tray filled with a couple bowls and a stoneware mug that steam rises from with an enticing smell.

“Ah, so she’s awake, good,” Darcelle says as they cross what I realize is a small living room. It must be above the coffee shop, since I have vague memories of it from when Eris possessed me. They set the tray on the small art deco table beside the couch I’m on and press the mug into my shaking hands. “I really wanted to avoid having to use the bitters. Always makes my nose itch for days after and I’m useless when it comes to any mixings or roasting the beans. Go on, drink up.”

Confused and discombobulated, I do as the witch tells me. To my relief, it’s nothing more than herbal spiced tea. It wipes the last of the fog from my brain and my last recollections slam into me.

“Ashe!” I stare at Eris, wild-eyed.

She nods, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. “There she is,” she says, standing from where she was crouched in front of me and snagging her own cup from the tray. “So, shall I catch you up from the point you passed out from shock after exiting the wards? You can say thank you any time for waiting for you, by the way.”

I set the cup down with a tight smile directed at Darcelle, before I rub my temples. An ache is forming behind my left eye and it’s directly related to the demon in front of me.

“I think—” I cut myself off and move my fingers to pinch the bridge of my nose. Finally I let out a breath, shaking my head in hopes to jostle more understanding out of the dark crevices of my mind. Failing that, I shoot a narrowed look at the demon sitting there, blithely drinking some sugary concoction. “I need you to explain what the hell is going on.” I gesture to her. “How are you like this? I felt you die!”

Eris smacks her lips and cradles the drink between her hands while giving me a look better suited to a misbehaving child. “You didn’t feel me die; stop being so dramatic.”

I scoff and Darcelle settles on the other end of the couch, taking up an embroidery hoop and threaded needle. They give Eris a pointed look before turning their focus to their project.

Eris rolls her eyes, sighing loudly as if she hadn’t just accused me of being dramatic. “Yes, I was dying because of Aeternaphiel’s siphoning blade. When you found his soul—cunning bastard—you also found where I was being siphoned to. I was able to guide you to use a blade that’s called—” whatever she said twisted in my ears, sending chills along my spine, and a coil of despair to tighten around my organs. She must have noticed because she frowned in annoyance. “Forgot how sensitive you mortals are.”

Even Darcelle tutted at her this time. Eris holds up a hand as if in apology, but everyone in this small room knows better.

“Essentially, the blade is a bond breaker,” Eris comes up with. “That’s an understatement of an explanation, though. It’s from another realm, not even my own. Aeternaphiel should not have it. It doesn’t so much as break bonds as devours them. Undoes them so completely as to erase them from existence. It could never have killed his soul. By the time you and your mate got there on your, frankly, idiotic scheme, I’d been in the room long enough to know nothing in there could kill him. But I did know that blade would sever me from him and free me. So I had you do that.”

“So glad I lost my mate while freeing you, idiots we are.” My retort is dry as sand.

“Dramatic.”

“Eris, we talked about this,” Darcelle says, not bothering to look up from where they threaded the needle into the white cloth. A gentle caress of magic, like the touch of a falling leaf, matches the rhythm of their stitches. “The vampires will be here soon.”

That has me sitting up straighter. “The Nightshades?”

Eris sneers. “No, some other clan of vampires have taken over in the couple of hours you’ve been drooling on Darce’s couch.”

I close my eyes, gripping the edge of the couch, and focus on taking deep, hard breaths. When I’m certain I won’t explode at the demon, I open my eyes and give her a hard look.

“I would greatly appreciate it, Eris, if you could hurry the fuck up and get to your point.”

Eris blinks for a long moment, her eyelids closing horizontally rather than vertically. Then she grins. “I knew I had a good influence on you.”

“Eris,” I growl her name.

“Yeah, yeah,” she huffs and takes another long drink. “The long story short? The blade severed me from Aeternaphiel, along with some other bonds. What it also did was sever the spells protecting his soul. As far as he knows, nothing is different. Only way he could tell is if he inspected the spells himself, but he doesn’t have that type of power. I doubt he has a pocket warlock hidden away. He’s never liked being around others with any sort of power. Can’t lose a pissing contest if you’re the only one who can piss.”

A hollow twang, almost tangible but not quite, has both of us looking at Darcelle. They set their embroidery to the side and stand, smoothing down their billowy pants as if wearing a formal gown. “That would be the vampires. I’ll see them up.”

I don’t see the look they give Eris, but given the demon sticks out her tongue at the witch before nodding, I can imagine it.

I slump against the couch, blindly grabbing my tea, the mug’s warmth seeping into my palms. I’m grateful to not have the heightened senses of a vampire. It means I have a few more moments to erect walls around the ache in my soul. Goddess, leaving Ashe behind the way I did.

I press the heel of a palm into my eye, gripping my tea tightly with the other hand. If I drop the mug now, it might be the final thing to break my sanity. Now is not the time to be clumsy.

The moment Ambrose enters the room, even without looking, I can tell. The vampire king has this energy, the same energy of a beast of the night lurking in the shadows. But when I look up, it’s Eloise hurrying over, concern and sympathy in her eyes. Ambrose’s mate sinks next to me on the couch, immediately taking me into her arms.

Goddess, I don’t realize how much I need a hug until the shorter woman has me squished against her. A sob hiccups free and Eloise hums with understanding. She runs her hand through my hair, gently avoiding any tangles.

“We’re getting him back, Cassandra,” she murmurs, fierce yet tender. “We don’t abandon family.”

“Unless they refuse to grovel at Ambrose’s feet,” Eris snarls. The air turns frosty. Heart caught in my throat, I look up to see the vampire king and demon in a glaring match. At some point, Eris had gotten up and now she stands with her arms folded, looking at Ambrose in condemnation.

Ambrose is a mountain, impervious to the storm of Eris’s anger. “You speak of Ezra. It is ... unfortunate what happened to him after he left?—”

“After you exiled him, you mean,” Eris interrupts.

“However, he made his choice while knowing the consequences,” Ambrose continues as if she never spoke. “That being said, we will not abandon him in his current condition.”

Eris rolls her eyes. “Oh, yes, wouldn’t want a feral half-vampire, half-demon running around. It wouldn’t be good for your reputation.” Her sarcastic tone makes her thoughts of Ambrose clear.

“Eris,” I chide her gently, easing Eloise’s arms from me and rising.

Malachi, Lan, and Kasar flank Ambrose, their expressions hard. Each of the vampires are tense, ready to leap if necessary. How often have these males wanted to go to blows with the demon, but held back because she possessed my body? It’s the shock I need to focus on defusing the situation.

Boldly, I take Eris’s hand, ignoring Ambrose for the moment. Her red eyes meet mine, accusatorially. I speak before she can, knowing that once Eris gets on a roll, it’s nearly impossible to stop her.

“Ezra is my friend. Ambrose is not without honor, entirely,” I amend and ignore his huff. “When this is finished, I will help him. Not for Ambrose or the Nightshades, or even the city. I’ll help him because I consider him my brother, even if we do not share blood. I love Ezra and I will not leave him to suffer.”

Eris watches me for a long moment, before blinking in that reptilian way she always has. She grunts and yanks away her hand, muttering something I choose to ignore. Satisfied there isn’t about to be a catfight between the two, I turn and fist my hands on my hips.

“We need to get Ashe back. Now.”

Ambrose raises an elegantly arched black brow at the command. My cheeks suffuse with heat but I refuse to back down.

“Of course we will,” he says after a moment.

I let out a long breath, unexpected relief almost making me dizzy. I rub my chest, just above my heart where Ashe marked me as his mate. “Good, good.”

When he realizes I’m not going to say anything else, he directs a look to Lan and steps aside.

After mating Wren, the sadistic glint in Lan’s eyes had tempered. Now it is back in full force as he steps forward, a hand resting casually on the butt of a handgun. It’s that precise moment I realize the vampires haven’t arrived in their usual expensive custom suits. All of them, even Ambrose, are wearing black tactical pants and jackets over vests. They’re armed with modern weapons and look ready to make war.

It’s sickeningly familiar to the night the witch hunters pinned us in the mansion before setting it on ablaze.

“Before we can make any plan, there’s something you need to explain,” Lan says, his voice smooth as whiskey and melted chocolate. I think he’s talking to me at first, but he’s staring at a broody Eris. She flicks her eyes to him after a moment. When he has her attention, he tilts his head. “When were you going to tell us this archangel of yours, the one you made a bargain with Cassandra to kill, is your mate?”

The rush is like the floor disappearing under me, as I snap wide eyes to Eris. She’s bristling and snarling, like a pissed-off cat tossed in a bath.

“How do you know that?” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. We are not mates. We were once, but he chose himself over the bond. When he cast me to the underworld, our bond rotted. It’s gone. It doesn’t matter.”

“Eris?” My voice is gentle and she turns her glare on me.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she spits. “Not everyone with a mate gets a happily ever after. Aeternaphiel has always loved himself and power more than me. Even as his mate, he only ever saw me as a tool. Our bargain still stands, witch.”

“Eris—”

She cuts me off with a growl. When I pinch my lips together, she turns her attention back to Lan, then Ambrose. “If we’re going to take him down, we need to act now. He’s probably already called in reinforcements. You cannot underestimate him.”

“We won’t,” Kasar rumbles as he folds his arms across his broad chest. “Malachi’s called in the foot soldiers. Lan’s surveillance hasn’t been detected yet, and you’re right. He’s called in at least fifty more guards. At least half of them are shifters of some sort. None affiliated with packs in the city.”

“They know better,” Malachi states. “We have more than enough with the clan, but I can call in a favor with the Knights of Hades if you want. Chainz is still here. By himself, he’s as good as ten of the street crew.”

Ambrose seems to weigh the decision before shaking his head once. “No. Better not involve them in our business. I don’t want to owe Reaper anything.” Ambrose looks back at me, studying me. I stand straighter under the close inspection.

“If you’re coming with us?—”

“I am!”

“—then you need to be outfitted properly. Kasar, get the witch set up with something more appropriate. And for god’s sake, make sure you find a Kevlar vest for her.” He looks each vampire in the eye before gesturing to me. “Our primary goal is to rescue Ashe. Malachi, you keep Cassandra at your side every moment. If she gets hurt, you’ll be the one explaining it to Ashe.”

“And what about me, oh, mighty vampire king?” Eris asks, inspecting her talon-sharp manicure.

“You can take care of yourself,” Ambrose responds dryly. Then Kasar kicks a metal case I hadn’t noticed at his feet, sending it sliding across the floor. “Darcelle made us aware of your situation. I figured you’d want some blades.”

Eris crouches down, flicking the case locks open and revealing at least half a dozen different knives and daggers. She gives him a sadistic grin. “You do care.”

He grunts. Eloise moves beside me, giving me a side hug. “You’ll get him back.”

I nod once, cold determination replacing the blood in my veins. A darkness creeps from behind my heart, one I always associated with Eris. It’s me, though. Even if I’d never wanted to claim it. Even if I recognized it long ago as something inherited from my family.

If I must embrace the savage side of my wild magic to save Ashe, I will.

Aeternaphiel will rue the day he took my mate from me.