Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
LAYDEN
We meet Professor Dickhead for lunch at a cafe near campus.
I glower at him as we approach the outdoor seating area. The tables are arranged under a pergola covered in flowering vines. It would be romantic if I weren’t about to watch another man touch my wife.
“John Paul!” Phoenix says warmly when we get to the table, and he stands immediately. He grasps her hands and pulls her in to air-kiss each of her cheeks in that pretentious European way. My eyes narrow as I watch his hands linger on hers.
His eyes only come to me when he finally pulls back from her. “And who is this?” He looks me up and down with clear distaste on his face, like I’m something he scraped off his shoe.
Phoenix waves a hand dismissively. “Just a family friend who’s staying with us for a while. I told Grandpapa I’d let him shadow me and see what university life was all about.”
Family friend. I grit my teeth so hard my jaw aches. Can he not see the ring on her finger? But when I look down, I realize she has the strap of her purse coiled around her left hand in a way that strategically hides it. Purposely hiding the ring so he won’t see it?
Just how far does her interest in her dear professor actually go?
“We adored your lecture this morning. I’m so sorry about the disruption at the end.” Phoenix smiles at him in a glowing way that makes my chest tight.
“Alas,” the Professor says with a long-suffering sigh that makes me want to roll my eyes. “That is the way of things wherever you go with progressive ideas lately. The world is so on edge they are unwilling to listen to the truth.”
He reaches across the table and grasps Phoenix’s hand again. She allows it and doesn’t pull away immediately like she does with me.
“Shouldn’t we order drinks or something?” I say loudly, causing both of them to look at me. Phoenix finally pulls her hand away from his and nods, starting to stand from her chair.
But Professor Fuckface just waves a hand dismissively at her. “I already ordered for you, bellezza. I remembered your favorite.”
They smile at each other like they’re sharing some private joke. Like I’m not even sitting here.
Then the Professor looks back at me with barely concealed annoyance. “But feel free to go to the counter to get yourself something.”
And leave the two of them alone at this intimate little table? Fuck this entire situation.
I lean forward, causing the metal feet of the table to screech loudly on the tile. “You’re her advisor. Is it advisable to be so casual with a student you’re supposed to be supervising?”
“Layden,” Phoenix hisses under her breath. She smacks my leg under the table hard enough that I feel it through my jeans. But I ignore her and keep my eyes locked on the Professor.
His eyes finally meet mine as if truly acknowledging my existence for the first time. “You are a cousin, no?”
“No.” The word comes out flat.
“Ah,” he says while smiling a patronizing smile that makes me want to blast his face with a surge of runic magic.
“It is true, I am la signorina’s Ph.D. advisor, but her dissertation is almost complete at this point.
I consider her more of a peer than a student anymore.
She is the brightest student I ever taught and will go on to surpass me in academia, I am certain of it. ”
“Nonsense!” Phoenix cries with genuine pleasure at the compliment.
“I mean it, bella. You are going to produce such amazing work in your field.” His eyes turn to hers now with an intensity I recognize all too well. It’s the intensity of devotion. But I doubt it’s because she ever used her compulsion on him. This looks genuine.
My stomach turns over as I turn to look at her. Does she feel the same way about him?
Her eyes shine at his praise. Even though she’s a little less on guard in this setting with him, it only means she has different walls up instead.
She plays a part when she’s with this man.
She’s never able to be her true self, not completely.
This might be the life she wants, but with him, it would always be partially fiction.
She could never tell him what she really is.
Still, seeing the smile on her face as they discuss his new research cracks something in my chest. The looseness in her limbs tells me she’s more relaxed here than she ever is with me.
I wonder if she dreams about this life. She hates the blood magic part of her existence.
She always has. Little wonder, considering the way Vlad raised her.
Half-granddaughter, half-slave to do his dirty work for him.
Of course she dreams of a normal life with a normal man.
A man who isn’t cursed. A man who can touch her without potentially destroying her.
“So, Professor, there’s actually a reason I wanted to call this meeting, in addition to wanting to congratulate you on your excellent lecture.” Phoenix shifts in her seat, leaning forward slightly.
“My busy schedule is always open to you, bella. You know that.”
“Well,” Phoenix bites her bottom lip in that way she does when she’s thinking.
“I know we’ve been talking so much about all that’s been happening last month and how it might relate to ancient worship practices.
I came across something this week and wanted to know what you think about it.
Whether you had any insight that might help.
” She pauses. “Could you look at some crime scene photos?”
He only blinks once with surprise before saying, “Of course, if you think it would be helpful.”
“I got these pictures from a source I have who’s familiar with the deep web.” Phoenix pulls out her phone. The Professor tugs his reading glasses from his front pocket before reaching for it. Phoenix pulls the phone back at the last minute. “I’ll warn you first, they’re extremely gruesome.”
The Professor nods gravely. “I understood they might be from what you texted.”
Phoenix nods and relinquishes the phone to him. Even though he was apparently ready for it, I still see his face react to the horrific images Phoenix photographed while we were at the crime scene.
“Madonna Santa!” he whispers while crossing himself briefly before flipping to another image with a shaking hand.
He pushes the bagel he ordered away from himself as if he might be sick. Right at that moment, Phoenix’s coffee and pastry arrive. I glance at the coffee cup. It’s some swirly, milky-colored concoction with whipped cream piled on top. Whipped cream.
I’ve endured late-night coding sessions with this woman back when we first lived together at Vlad’s compound. All I ever saw her down was entire pots of black coffee. Thick as tar, bitter enough to strip paint. But apparently for the Professor, she drinks fancy lattes with whipped cream.
The Professor puts the phone down on the table and crosses himself again with more fervor this time.
“So what do you think?” Phoenix leans forward eagerly. “Is it anything you’ve seen before in your research?”
He takes a long moment before answering. When he finally does speak, his voice is shaken. “Heaven help us, but yes, I have seen something similar. Only once before.”
Phoenix almost leaps over the table. I can tell she’s so excited by the way her whole body goes tense with anticipation. “Where? What was it?”
“During my work with Ancient Egyptian scrolls several years ago. They spoke of an evil goddess who would enchant a man with her sexual pull in order to lure him away from others. She would get him alone, mate with him, and then demand his life as a sacrifice. After the mating, she would tear his body apart.” He pauses, looking disturbed by his own words.
“‘Rend him limb from limb and joint from joint in a circle bathed in blood’ was how the ancient texts described it. And then she would consume his heart.”
“Like a black widow spider,” I murmur, making the connection.
“The heart wasn’t there at the scene,” Phoenix says quickly. “You really think it could be her? That she’s come back after all this time?” She sounds incredulous but also intensely focused. “How would we find her? How would we stop something like that?”
The Professor’s mouth drops open in shock. “You’ll do no such thing, Phoenix! Did you not see these photos? These are ancient powers for us to observe from a safe distance, not interfere with directly.”
“Of course, of course.” Phoenix recovers quickly, smoothing over her slip. “I just want to study her more thoroughly. To include in my dissertation if possible. What’s her name in the texts?”
“Ammit, the man-eater.” He says the name with reverence mixed with fear.
“Oh, of course. I read about her in The Egyptian Book of the Dead.” Phoenix’s eyes are bright with recognition.
“That’s the best place to start your research.”
Phoenix jumps up from her seat abruptly, already pulling her purse onto her shoulder.
“You haven’t even touched your latte,” the Professor objects, gesturing to the untouched drink.
“I hate to dash off like this, but time’s running out on the dissertation if I want to incorporate this new material.” Phoenix offers him an apologetic smile. “Thank you so much for your time, John Paul. You’ve been incredibly helpful.”
“Of course, of course, I understand completely. Your devotion to your studies is what makes you such an excellent protégé.” He stands up as well and holds his hand out to me. “It was wonderful to meet you, Signore…?”
Phoenix’s eyes widen like she’s appalled at herself for never actually introducing us properly. Or maybe because she hoped to make an escape without him ever learning my name.
“Layden,” I say while grasping his hand in a deliberately bone-crushing handshake. To his credit, he only winces a little.
“Signore Layden,” he says before letting go and shaking his hand out with a pained expression. “Quite a grip you’ve got there.”
Phoenix glares at me with clear warning in her eyes. “Well, time to be off. I’ll see you later this week after office hours to go over my most recent revisions on my chapters?”
The Professor grins far too wide for my liking. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
After Phoenix turns away, he has the audacity to wink at me. Like we’re two men sharing some understanding about a woman between us.
I barely keep back my snarl. It takes even more restraint not to put my hand possessively on Phoenix’s lower back in a show of protection and intention as I guide her away from Fuckface.
“You really think Vlad’s gonna like you getting close to that guy?” I mutter once we’re far enough away from the cafe.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She turns on me with fire in her eyes.
“Nothing,” I backtrack, but I can’t keep the irritation out of my voice. “Just that we’re supposed to look married, remember? On our honeymoon. All that. What’s he gonna say if he catches you carrying on in your professor’s office after hours?”
“We’re not—” She cuts herself off when her voice hits another octave. She takes a breath. “Carrying on. Jesus, why do you have to make it sound so sordid? He’s just my advisor and a man I respect in my field.”
I can’t help the scoff that escapes. Respect. Sure.
“You know what?” She spins on me in the middle of the sidewalk. “Fuck you.”
“Me? What did I do?” I’m genuinely confused by the sudden vehemence.
She glares at me like she wants to murder me where I stand. “You came back.” Her voice breaks slightly on the words. “I was perfectly happy here. I had a life.”
She gestures so hard at the university campus behind her that it looks like she might dislocate her shoulder. “I have friends.”
At my stare of disbelief, she stomps her foot in frustration. “I have Sabra anyway. And I have a future planned out. One that doesn’t involve blood and my grandfather determining my every single move. I’m doing what I want to do for once in my existence.”
“Looks like it still involves blood to me,” I point out, unable to help myself.
She gets right up in my face. We’re close enough that I can see the hurt underneath the anger in her eyes. “Studying it academically, not spilling it. Not having it spilled on my behalf. Not putting compulsions on people so they lose their fucking minds trying to please me.”
Her voice drops lower, more raw. “I was doing just fine until you called and dragged me back into all this shit with Vlad and blood oaths and fake marriages.”
The pain of regret pierces through my chest, but she’s got me too frustrated to make sense of it. All I can do is get back in her face. “Well, you started it. Maybe you should have left me alone that day in the woods ten years ago. But you didn’t, did you? And actions have consequences.”
“Oh, I get that, buddy,” she says low while shoving me in the chest hard enough that I have to take a step back. “You’re a fucking idiot if you don’t think I understand consequences by now.”
She stomps all the way back to where she parked the car. I watch her go, hating the way she’s hurting. Hating that I’m the one who caused it.
I want to keep arguing with her because I hate the despair I heard in her voice. So I follow her.
“Where are you going now?”
She only spins back to me once she’s at her car with her hand on the door handle. At least the fire is still there in her eyes instead of just pain. “Where do you think? I’m going to find this man-eater. Ammit.”
“How the hell are you going to do that? Are we going to spend the night in a library researching?”
She glares at me like she doesn’t actually want to tell me her plan. Then she finally huffs out a breath in resignation. “Fine. I’ll tell you. But only because you’re going to be useful as bait.”
That surprises a genuine laugh out of me despite our fight. “Bait?”
“It’s Friday night, and there’s one place most of the college students here hit up on a Friday night. It would be an excellent hunting ground for Ammit if she’s looking for young men.” She pauses, then smirks at me with some of her usual fire. “You’ll feel right at home there.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Her smirk widens slightly. “It’s called the Fallen Angels Club.”
I stare at her for a long moment. Then, despite everything, I feel my own mouth twitch. “Of course it is.”
“So are you coming or not?” She’s already opening the car door.
I walk around to the passenger side. “Wouldn’t miss it.”