by Bella Klaus
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I read all five Percy Jacksons if that’s what you’re asking.”
“There’s this story about a prince called Orpheus. When his wife died, he begged Hades and Persephone for her life, and they agreed to let him take her out of the underworld. All he has to do is not turn around.”
“Let me guess,” Kain muttered. “Curiosity got the better of him and he turned, locked eyes with Medusa, and turned to stone.”
A laugh huffed out from my belly. That was exactly the kind of scam Hades would run. He must have been a kinder person when he had his wife. “How did you know he’d turn around?”
“Those stories are all the same.” He flipped the indicator and turned right into Clarence Lane, another leafy road that led to St. Mary’s Hospital in Roehampton. “We learned something similar in RE.”
“RE?” I asked.
“Religious Education.” He slowed at a junction, letting an old woman cut in with her white Volkswagen Polo. “Only it wasn’t Greek gods, it was this guy called Lot who was visited by angels and wouldn’t hand them over to a bunch of ass-rapists.”
My brows drew together. “That’s in the Bible?”
He snorted. “Everyone knows the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, two Old Testament cities of debauchery and sin. They were so bad that God wanted them razed off the earth. Since Lot and his family were decent people, the angels gave them a chance to escape before the carnage. All they needed to do was to leave and not turn around.”
“So Lot succumbed to his curiosity?” I asked.
Roehampton House loomed up ahead, a Georgian red-brick mansion that reminded me a little of the buildings where I used to live in Grosvenor Square. Its iron-and-gold gates were closed. Valentine had purchased it ten years ago from Queen Mary's Hospital and converted it into luxury apartments.
“Lot’s wife glanced over her shoulder and turned into a pillar of salt.” Kain slammed on the breaks, making me jerk forward in my seat.
A pair of ten-year-old boys dashed out into the road, seeming oblivious that they’d put their lives at risk.
Kain turned to me and huffed. “Anyway, you can’t compare yourself to people like Orpheus and Lot’s wife. From where I’m sitting, you did everything right. It’s Valentine who’s at fault.”
I exhaled a long breath. “He’s lost his memories.”
“Does that mean he’s lost his sense of gratitude?” Kain asked. “Prince Draconius and his goons were planning on killing him, burning his body, and scattering the ashes to all four corners of the globe. You saved him from all that by bringing him to life.”
Sliding down the seat, I wrapped my arms around myself and bit down on my lip. Valentine once told me he was a different person before we had met. He’d also said that being with me had let him see the world through my eyes. Maybe something about my presence had turned him from cold and unfeeling to the man I’d come to love.
Kain took another right down Roehampton Lane, a more built-up area of 1930s houses and low-rise apartment blocks. I shook off those thoughts. Whatever was wrong with Valentine could wait until we’d helped Beatrice. Somewhere along the series of calamities that had taken place in Koffiek, I’d lost my phone, but I doubted that Lazarus would have updated me on his search for Christian.
At a crossing, Kain turned to me with his brows raised. I guess he wanted me to comment on Valentine’s ingratitude.
“It doesn’t help my situation that all the evidence is stacked against me.” My gaze followed a woman pushing a stroller of twins with my pale complexion and red hair. “The Council found me guilty of Valentine’s murder, I’m a fire user, and his brothers have probably poured poison in his ear since he returned to the palace.”
Kain grunted. “Those guys are complete dicks.”
“You mean how none of them helped you fend off Prince Draconius?”
“Yeah.” The crossing’s light turned red, and Kain continued down Roehampton Lane. “I get that none of them want to be stuck behind a desk all day and they’ve got their stupid nightclub but they knew I wanted to go to the Academy.”
I hummed my agreement. On any other day, I would have asked Kain for more information about the club that the vampire princes ran. Today, I really didn’t give a damn. Kain was right that there wasn’t anything I could have done to change the outcome. It wasn’t like I could have forced Valentine to resurrect the moment he handed me the heart. I couldn’t inflict the painful immolation Father Jude had suffered on someone who hadn’t consented.
We fell silent as the car sped down the two dual carriageways that bordered Wimbledon Common. All the trees were bare, with a dusting of frost over the ground. Even though it was December, joggers still pounded the paths, exhaling clouds of condensation. Mist obscured the park’s interior, making me wonder if the temperature had dropped even further since I’d left Koffiek.
The tires rumbled over the gravel of Beatrice’s courtyard, and Kain stopped just before the mews houses that formed the apartment block. By now, the sun hung low in an indigo sky, illuminating the horizon like a candle flame. Its yellow light warmed the building’s white exterior, reminding me of all the fun times I’d shared with my best friend.
Kain shut off the engine, pulled out his phone, and tapped a few buttons. “I’m ordering a cheeseburger. Do you want anything?”
My stomach gurgled with gratitude. “Whatever you’re having with a chocolate milkshake, please.”
Nodding, he made a few more entries into his app. A click later, it made a whoosh with the notification of a completed order.
“I should warn you about something before we step inside,” I said.
He opened the driver-side door, letting in a gust of frigid air, and exited into the late afternoon. “What’s up?”
I pulled up my hood and stepped out. “Beatrice got involved with a supernatural who consumed her youth. She’s about thirty years older, but thinks she looks the same, and any knowledge of her situation just slides off her mind.”
Kain clapped a hand over his mouth, staring at me through wide eyes. “An incubus?”
“A faerie of some sort.” I continued across the gravel space, beneath the skeletons of trees that surrounded the courtyard, and rang her bell. “Lazarus has been taking care of her and trying to track down the faerie who attacked her.”
“Bloody hell.” Kain shook his head.
Before I could ask him if he was despairing at Beatrice’s situation or her caretaker, the front door flew open. Lazarus loomed in the doorway, his dark brows furrowed. The stubble covering his face was now thick enough to classify as a beard, and mahogany hair lay tousled over his forehead.
My stomach dropped. From the rumpled state of his appearance, it looked like he hadn’t spared a moment for himself.
Lazarus narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”
I shoved my way past Valentine’s brother and stepped into the warmth of the apartment building’s entrance hall. “Can’t I see my best friend?”
“Wearing that cloak?” he said with a scoff. “You look and smell like you’ve been roasting carrion in Hell.”
Pausing in the middle of the hallway, I shot him a venomous glare. Even though he hadn’t been in that office with Valentine, Lazarus was exactly the type to badmouth me to his brother. The only reason I tolerated him was because of Beatrice.
“How is she?”
His shoulders sagged. “No change and no sign of that Christian bastard.”
I continued into Beatrice’s apartment and headed straight for the spare room, which was still in its charred state from the fight between Coral and Lazarus.
“What are you doing?” Kain stood at the door.
“Getting changed into some of the items I left here.” I pulled open a drawer and picked out a pair of knickers, a sports bra, and a pair of jogging bottoms and a matching top—the perfect outfit for a lazy weekend at Beatrice’s.
“If your friend is in such a bad state, why don’t you go and see he
r right away?” he asked.
Lazarus placed a hand on Kain’s shoulder. “The reaper cloak makes her invisible to humans. Come on. Under all that black fabric, she’s probably covered in blood and gore.”
I clenched my teeth, glaring at Lazarus’ retreating back. He stepped into the hallway with Kain, letting the door swing shut. Did he think I was some kind of angel of death? I sniffed at my shoulder for hints of brimstone and carrion, but only smelled roasted meat. With an annoyed huff, I carried the items to the spare room’s adjoining bathroom and met my own gaze in the mirror.
The woman stared back at me through irises that shone brighter than sunlight streaming through a prism of celestite, a pale blue that bordered on turquoise. Somehow, I’d lost even more weight and become paler, making my cheekbones more prominent and deepening the hollows of my eyes.
My hair had dried funny from the shower, largely because I’d shifted into a phoenix. Its kinks and curls and orange hue now resembled flames frozen in time. Placing a trembling hand into the mess, I cringed at the brittle strands.
I’d seen people in textbooks with this kind of appearance—banshees, mostly, and an all-female clan of faeries who plunged their talons into the hearts of men and drained their essence. It was no wonder Valentine had been so distant. I looked decidedly dodgy.
A knock sounded on the door. “Mera?”
I whirled around. “Beatrice?”
“Mera, are you in there?” Her voice rose a few octaves.
“Yes—” I clamped my mouth shut. If the cloak made me invisible to humans, it would also render me inaudible. I flung off the garment, letting it rest on the edge of the bath. “Hold on a second!”
After throwing on my underwear and the rest of my clothes, I hurried to the bathroom door, and flung it open.
Beatrice sat on the edge of the spare bed with her wrinkled hands folded on her lap. She wore a white vest top and plum-colored pajama bottoms with a matching gown that would have looked cute on her youthful figure, but it only accentuated how much she had aged.
Her hair was more salt than pepper, flowing down a face marred by deep lines, hooded eyelids, and sunken cheeks.
A palpitation reverberated in my chest. I’d seen her before in this state, I’d even warned Kain about her appearance, but the passage of time didn’t do anything to dull the shock of her stolen youth. I smoothed out my reaction, bending over Beatrice to give her the gentlest of hugs.
She chuckled. “I’m not made of glass, you know.”
Lazarus leaned against the doorway with a faint smile. “I told her to wait for you to get changed, but she insisted on seeing you now.”
“How are you feeling?” I murmured into Beatrice’s hair.
“I can’t shake off this bloody flu,” she muttered. “It must be one of those stubborn overseas strains.”
My gaze locked with Lazarus’, who shook his head. I lowered myself onto the mattress next to Beatrice and placed an arm around her shoulders. “Are you still going to work?”
She exhaled a frustrated breath. “Lazarus got me signed off, so I’m doing bits and pieces at home. I hate being cooped up here but I suppose it’s better than letting everyone catch this lurgy.”
Lazarus shrugged. Perhaps he’d given up on trying to explain a concept that was magically impossible for her to understand.
“Now will you go back to the sofa and finish your soup?” he said, his voice tight with impatience.
“You’re such a worrier.” She raised her hand, letting him scoop her into his arms.
My mouth dried, and I swallowed over and over, my empty stomach fluttering with an onset of nerves. I’d hoped that Beatrice might have at least regained a bit of strength after I’d severed her connection with Christian, but it looked like her situation had worsened.
I followed them out of the spare room and into the hallway, where Kain waited with his features twisted with horror. “What the hell?” he whispered. “Isn’t sucking people’s souls illegal?”
“If the bastards get caught,” I muttered. “There’s a whole bunch of supernaturals running around England outside the control of the Council. I’m not even sure the enforcers can help Beatrice.”
He nodded. “What are we going to do?”
“Lazarus has been trying to track down the faerie who did this to her. Let’s wait and hear what he has to say before deciding our next steps.”
“Can’t we just give her Panacea water or some kind of tonic?”
“I really don’t know.” We stepped into the living room, where Lazarus positioned Beatrice on the sofa and sat beside her. He reached the low table where a bowl of chicken and sweetcorn soup lay waiting on a tray and picked it up.
Beatrice shook her head, letting her eyes flutter shut. My heart sank. Had the theft of her youth also affected her appetite or was there an additional complication that Lazarus hadn’t noticed?
Lazarus sighed and placed the soup bowl back on the tray. After laying Beatrice flat on the sofa with her head resting on his lap, he turned to me and scowled. “Why did you come? I finally got her eating and now she’s tired.”
I flinched. “What did you expect me to do when you hardly answer my texts?”
“Isn’t the real question what we’re going to do about Beatrice?” Kain walked around the back of the sofa and sat on the armchair opposite mine.
I turned back to Lazarus, whose features were pinched. “Did you find Christian?”
“Nearly,” he growled. “I got a faerie for hire to set up a dummy account on that app with lots of revealing pictures. He messaged her right away, inviting her for dinner at the Avista. I hired a group of mercenaries to stalk the restaurant to round up any passing supernatural. He must have noticed their presence and turned back.”
“Do you know any faeries who can sense magic?” I asked.
“Why do you think he’s fae?”
“I asked an enforcer—”
“You told them about Beatrice?” he snarled loud enough for her to shift on the sofa. The golden flecks in his hazel eyes reddened, and he scowled, looking he was about to flash his fangs.
“Of course I didn’t,” I snapped. “It was a hypothetical question about supernaturals who could feed from humans without touching them. The enforcer told me there was a genus of faeries who fed from humans over a long period of time.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” he snarled. “All this time, I thought he was an incubus!”
“Didn’t I text you?” My fingers fumbled at the pocket of my cloak, and I clenched my teeth. It was in the bathroom, left there after I’d flung it off to make myself visible to Beatrice.
Something beeped, and my head snapped up, hoping it was Christian trying to set up a date with Beatrice. “What’s that?”
“Me.” Kain raised his phone. “Just the app saying that the burgers are a few minutes away.”
I placed a hand over my empty belly, which made a happy rumble at the prospect of food. A memory reared up to the front of my mind from Koffiek, where rows upon rows of carcasses concealed a woman whose legs had been minced into sausage meat.
The muscles of my torso tightened, and I gulped. “This is a human restaurant, right?”
“Gourmet Burger Kitchen, Wimbledon,” Kain replied.
I relaxed into the armchair with a sigh. “Thanks.” I turned my attention to Lazarus. “Are you sure the cords linking Christian to Beatrice have been severed?”
“The seer said they had.” Lazarus smoothed a hand down her pale hair, his gaze fixed on the crêpy skin on her neck. “Why?”
“She seems more tired than before.” I bit down on my lip, thinking about how accurately Istabelle could sense energies, even though she lacked the magic to sever bonds without instruments. “Was the seer you employed a Neutral?”
“Fae.” Lazarus’ head snapped up, and his features dropped. “Shit.”
Dread rolled through my insides like an avalanche. “You think she might have covered up for Christian?”
“It was a male healer,” Lazarus growled through panting breaths.
My heart stilled as the implications of his words trickled through my skull, and I stopped breathing for a few seconds. Even my mind ground to a halt, and I had to force out the question, “Was it anyone you know?”
He shook his head, every muscle in his face tensing. The cords of his neck widened, and the veins around his temple bulged. I didn’t need to be an expert on vampire psychology to know he was about to explode.
Every instinct in my body warned me not to speak, to let Lazarus work things out on his own, but Beatrice was too important to let slide. I placed my hands on the armrest, ready for anything and prepared myself to ask. If Lazarus had hired a faerie to lure Christian into a trap which he had sidestepped, if Lazarus then hired a faerie to check on Beatrice’s bonds, maybe they were all working together.
My tongue darted out to lick my lips. “What if—”
“What if the healer was Christian the youth sucker?” Lazarus growled.
I cringed into the sofa. Not out of fear of the vampire, but because we might have made progress if I had shared what Captain Zella had told me about faeries being capable of feeding from humans. “This is my fault—”
“Stop.” He rose from his seat, setting Beatrice’s head on the cushion. “If I let that bastard into this apartment just to reattach those bonds…”
A knock sounded on the door, and Lazarus walked out of the living room.
“The delivery driver is still on Wimbledon High Street.” Kain frowned at the screen of his phone.
My heart flip-flopped. What if Christian was at the door? I scrambled up from the armchair, and turned to the hallway, where Lazarus opened the front door.
Everything happened at once.
An explosion sent freezing air and shards of glass raining across the living room, just as a jet of fire erupted at the door, engulfing Lazarus with flames.
Lazarus screamed and thrashed and flailed in the hallway, his agonized sound ringing through my ears. The door flew open, letting in a group of burly men in denim.
I turned to Kain, who had already shot to his feet. “Grab Beatrice and run.”
