For Love and Blood and Fury (Lilith’s Legacy #1)

Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Marisol hadn’t really needed a nap after healing Elena. It had left her exhilarated rather than depleted. But when Zuri insisted, she hadn’t argued. She’d even tried to sleep, but the realization that it would be her last time in Zuri’s bed—that her pillows at home would never smell like the three of them together—caused the lump in her throat to spread to her chest and made sleeping impossible.

So she’d just laid there and wondered how to ask them what came next. She wished that she was direct like Zuri or fearless like Elena. But she wasn’t. No amount of wishing was going to transform her into someone new.

She was grateful that when Elena’s footsteps approached the bed, they disappeared again when she didn’t stir. Marisol wasn’t sure how Elena’s abilities worked, but it was obvious she could sense people’s emotions. At least she didn’t have to tell her that she needed to be alone. If Elena had sensed that she was upset, she’d also sensed that she didn’t want to talk.

Anxiety was an icy fist clenching Marisol’s heart. She didn’t even know where the hell she was going when this was over. She’d lost her nursing license—or she would, she was sure of it. Absconding with a patient in the middle of her shift, disappearing without a trace… There was no coming back from that. What the hell had she been thinking? She should have stayed. Should have explained.

Pulling the covers around her, she groaned. Sure . She would have explained that a witch made off with the vampire after a different vampire attacked them. That would have secured her job.

A wave of nausea washed over her, a cold sweat prickling her skin. She had no job, no career, no future.

If only that was just the loss, she could recover. But it was the lack of anything to replace it. It was the terrifying void that made her want to fuse into the mattress and disappear.

The memory of Lilith’s words echoed in her mind. Help my child... Show her the way . But what way? What was she supposed to do? Where was she supposed to go?

The Aglion. Her ancestors. Hunted, persecuted, nearly wiped from existence. The thought sent a revolting shiver down her spine, a primal fear programmed in her DNA. Vampires and witches had hated her kind so much that they’d wanted to eradicate them. And they’d essentially succeeded. She was alone. The last of her kind.

Before the tears stinging the backs of her eyes rolled down her cheeks, she stood. Her grandmother wouldn’t want her to lie there wringing her hands and feeling sorry for herself. She’d find a way on her own. She’d done it before and she could do it again.

Maybe it was time to leave Miami, she decided while turning on the shower. A new place, a better life. She could do it. It’s not like there was anything keeping her tied to one place. There was freedom in that.

After using Zuri’s diffuser on her wet hair and borrowing some of her products to make her hair wavy, Marisol decided to face the end with dignity. It’s not like Elena or Zuri would be all down in the dumps. They were eager to get back to their lives. Marisol was just one of the many women they’d shared, Elena had told her so herself.

And that was fine, she said to her reflection before borrowing Zuri’s eyeliner, because they’d already shared more intimacy than makeup. Ignoring the ache in her chest, she put on a pair of black leggings and a loose tank top.

In the kitchen, Zuri was sautéing vegetables. Elena was testing her range of motion with fluid movements that might have been Tai Chi—if they weren’t so overtly designed to be lethal.

Elena noticed her first, brown eyes dazzling like the prospect of leaving had reinvigorated her with new life. “Well fuck me,” she muttered, attention darting over Marisol like she’d never seen her before.

In response, Zuri turned from the stove, hand leaving the pan handle and resting on her hip. Her gaze drifted over Marisol’s body. When she returned to her eyes, there was unabashed approval.

Biting her lip to hide her smile, Marisol tried to play it cool as she sauntered into the kitchen. She went for the fridge, deciding that bending down to reach the water pitcher would prolong their visual adoration. And why not? It would be nice to think that they’d miss her.

“Going somewhere, Bambi?” Zuri asked after a beat, stirring the food in the pan without looking away from her.

“Aren’t we all?” she shot back, pretending that her pulse wasn’t jack-hammering in her throat while she poured a glass of water she didn’t really want.

Unsure what the heck to do next now that she had their unexpectedly undivided attention, Marisol released a question that had been swirling in her mind for days. “So, why did you two break up?”

Charged gaze fixed on Elena, Zuri tipped her head to the side as if to say, you tell her .

“She broke my heart.” Elena gripped her chest like she was a Shakespearean character wrestling poison. “I was ready to spend my entire life with her.” She staggered forward as if Marisol hadn’t healed every fiber of her being. “I was ready to give her anything she asked. Kill anyone?—”

“I’ve never once requested a homicide, and yet it’s all you seem to offer,” Zuri snapped, but her lips were still pulled into a lopsided smile.

“Your entire life?” Marisol focused on Elena. “Not hers?”

Elena’s expression lost its amused shine. Her attention floated to Zuri, and for the first time, there was a real vulnerability in her eyes. Even when she’d been on the brink of death, when she’d been attacked by a man intent on killing her, she hadn’t looked vulnerable. But looking at Zuri, Elena was soft. Breakable.

“And that’s just it, isn’t it?” Elena said without looking away from Zuri. “Mine is a bit too long for some people’s taste.”

“So you wanted her to be a vampire with you?” Marisol asked gently before she could tell herself to butt out.

Neither of them answered her, but they exchanged the weight of the universe in their eye contact. There was so much between them. A palpable pain.

After a deep breath, Zuri straightened. Turning to Marisol, she shrugged. “You know how these things go, Bambi. Tale as old as taxes. Witch will not change who she is at her core. Won’t trade her identity for more time.” Her eyes glistened, but Marisol couldn’t imagine her ever crying. “And the vampire can’t stand to watch another lover die.”

Stunned speechless, Marisol wished she hadn’t asked. It hadn’t been any of her business, and now they were looking at each other like they had a thousand things to say, but neither wanted to speak first.

“Let’s eat, huh?” Zuri pulled the pan off the stove too hard and it banged against the metal coil, sending a slice of yellow pepper flying over the side. “I’m probably not going to eat again today,” she added, even though it was only the afternoon.

Marisol started setting the table after picking up the pepper. It was strange how quickly they’d established a routine. How comfortable it was to share meals and responsibilities. “Why?”

“I won’t bore you with coven politics.” She served Marisol a helping of steaming white rice before spooning the vegetables on top. In her life, she’d never eaten so many meals with someone without having to remind them she didn’t eat meat.

“And trust me, she’s not exaggerating the bore.” Elena jumped up to sit on the counter, but she couldn’t hide that thinking about their break up had bothered her.

Marisol was still thinking about it, too. What had she meant about Elena losing loves? How many could there be? Why wouldn’t they want to turn to be with her? If they were really in love, wouldn’t they want to stay together? Marisol would have done anything to keep her grandmother in her life forever. She couldn’t imagine letting someone die if they didn’t have to… It didn’t make sense.

“Yeah, well. Thanks to your abject failure, I probably don’t have a coven to go back to, so there’s that?—”

“Oh, yes. It’s my fault that I almost got killed and then ended up trapped in a human cesspool. That’s absolutely on me. You’re so right.” Elena leaned forward on the hands gripping the counter’s ledge.

“I’m glad we agree,” Zuri said with the resolute finality of someone who’d gotten the last word.

Not knowing what they were talking about, Marisol decided she might as well ask. There may not be another chance to understand. “What’s wrong with your coven?”

Sitting across from Marisol with a fork in hand while Elena kicked her heels against the cabinet like a bored kid, Zuri waved away the question like it was buzzing around her plate. “I don’t even know,” she said, sounding unexpectedly defeated. “Maybe all things end and I’m fighting the damn tide.”

“I don’t know when you’re going to see that you don’t need anyone else’s?—”

“I need my coven the way you need your cartel,” she snapped like they’d had this conversation a hundred times.

“What do you think a group of Aglion would be called?” Marisol mused, eager to break the tension. She didn’t want to spend their last hours together bickering.

“If those pretty wings actually work for flying”—Elena’s energy shifted back into bright amusement—“a float.”

“That’s awful,” Zuri replied after swallowing her bite. “How about a radiance? That’s got some flair.”

“A chorus,” Elena tried.

“Too obvious,” Zuri said with an eye roll.

“A hope,” Marisol decided.

Zuri’s lip twitched into a smile, eyes soft when they met Marisol’s. “Not bad.”

“I’m going to need a lot of hope while I look for a new job,” she half joked, anxiety curling around her lungs again.

“I don’t think so,” Elena said like she’d been practicing some kind of dad voice. “It’s not safe for you.”

Marisol furrowed her brow. “I can’t not?—”

“We don’t know what that fucking vamp has already spread about what he saw,” Zuri said, jaw tight.

Had they already talked about this? Without her? When?

“You’re not going back to the hospital. You shouldn’t stay on your own,” Zuri added, as if Marisol’s life choices weren’t up for discussion. Like she wasn’t going to get a say.

“That goes for both of you.” Elena stopped swinging her feet, arms crossed over her chest and energy shifting into something dangerous. “There’s absolutely no way either of you are leaving my sight until I figure this out and every single person who would raise a hand to you is ash beneath my feet.”

“She’s so romantic, isn’t she?” Zuri looked at Marisol and laughed like she was used to threats of mass annihilation. “Where do you plan to keep us, big bad vampire boss?” Her grin lingered. “The place where you were attacked and nearly killed? Yeah, agreed. That’s much better than my apartment. I don’t even have a doorman who can fail at his duties to keep?—”

“It happened outside,” Elena roared, revealing a sore spot. She continued through gritted teeth, eyes black and revealing that her fangs were out even if Marisol couldn’t see them. “Absolutely no one will touch you in my?—”

“Aw, then what’s the fun in that,” Zuri interrupted, antagonizing Elena on purpose.

Jaw flexing, Elena’s entire being was alive with barely contained anger. “They got a single cheap shot in and there will not be another. If you get so much as a fucking paper cut, I will rip out every single throat in a hundred-mile radius. No one is going to touch you. No one is going to breathe near you. No one is going to even think about you. Or they’re going to meet such a slow and agonizing death that they beg for the sweet relief of darkness. Relief that I will not grant.”

Marisol blinked, unsure why her skin was hot and desire was thrumming to life in her belly. She shouldn’t want to see Elena’s vengeance, but her heart raced at the image of her ripping out the man’s throat who’d hurt Zuri. Who would have killed them all if he could. What the heck was happening to her?

“Are you done?” Zuri stood, empty plate in hand. She was pretending she wasn’t turned on, but Marisol didn’t need Elena’s super senses to see the flush on her skin and dark interest in her eyes. “My wards have held here. They’ll hold in my apartment.”

A vein in Elena’s forehead appeared like a lightning strike. “I said no.”

“And I said you don’t fucking own me,” Zuri fired back, but her tone was closer to turned on than angry.

Elena slid off the counter with the grace of a leopard and Marisol’s pulse all but shot out of her body. Elena took her time running her hand over Zuri’s throat before running her fingers up the nape of her neck. Slow, purposeful, controlled.

When Elena made a fist and yanked her head back just enough to expose her throat, Zuri gasped. Desire throbbed hard between Marisol’s thighs. All Elena had to do was beckon her with a look, and Marisol was on her feet and moving toward her.

“You’re mine,” Elena growled, arm sliding around Marisol and clutching her to her side.

Marisol couldn’t form a single word. All she could do was stare at the power vibrating off Elena and soundlessly beg to be bitten. With her silence as acceptance, Elena turned back to Zuri.

Lips parted and eyes pleading for the same release building in Marisol’s body, Zuri didn’t shrink from Elena’s stare.

“Mine,” Elena repeated, fangs inches from Zuri’s parted lips.

Zuri flared her nostrils, expression hardening. “Fuck off,” she replied breathlessly.