Chapter 14 #5
And she did. Waves crashing against a rocky shore. Sugar rock tea, the sound of his voice, and a deep wound in her chest.
Her hair blew back from her face. She opened her eyes to find a portal before them.
They stepped through together, led by Rhyden’s strong arms. On instinct, she let go of the scythe, casting them into a pale darkness.
Stiff fabric brushed her arms. It was tight, cramped.
The sound of their breaths was far too loud in the space.
She reached out for the scythe, needing to see.
When her fingers grazed it, light bloomed once more.
She saw they were in a coat closet. Auren and Rhyden were practically standing on top of each other in the packed space, while a suit jacket was right in front of Rin’s eyes.
She moved it away, the metal hanger sliding against the rack.
There, on the ground, head tipped back against the wall, coats and clutches heaped around him as if he’d struggled:
Cyrus.
His eyes were half-lidded. A gag in his mouth cut into the side of his pillowy lips.
Rin dropped to her knees, not letting go of the scythe, which forced Auren to fall, too, then Rhyden, who still kept his arms around them both. She heard him curse as his knees hit the ground.
"Cyrus," Rin sobbed, reaching for him with one hand.
He blinked at her, mumbling around the gag.
His movements were sluggish—like hers as she fumbled around his chest, nearly falling against him as she reached behind him to find his bound hands.
She couldn’t get it undone. She turned to Rhyden. "Help him, please?"
Rhyden licked his lips, staring at her. His fingers snapped. A short burst of flames lit up the closet as the ropes and gag were burned to ash. The flickering shadows of the darkened closet swam before her eyes.
Cyrus reached for her, lips smacking as he struggled to speak. His hands held her cheeks, thumbs wiping at the blood on her face. "You’re bleeding? What… happened to you?"
"Fuck, you’re high," Rhyden said harshly.
Rin saw Cyrus’s pupils blown wide, so dark his irises were nearly swallowed whole. "Who did this to you, Cy?"
"Didn’t see them. Drugged. Think it was the—drink." Red filled the air as Cyrus tasted what she felt. It was too much for her. She wavered.
"Cyrus, stop feeding from her," Rhyden whispered harshly.
The red snapped back as Cyrus shuddered, overcome by what he felt from her. "Why do you hurt so bad?"
"Later," Auren said, strained. "I do not know how much longer I can hold on. I still need to portal back to the penthouse."
Rhyden nodded. "Take her first."
Cyrus’s fingers tightened on her cheeks. "You know, this is the—the third time I’ve been tied up in the last few months, yet no matter how much I—beg you—you won’t." He surged forward and kissed her. "I like this new gloss. Tastes like metal."
And that was the last thing Rin knew—his lips on hers, tongue tracing the blood—before she could fight against her exhaustion no longer.
Rhyden waited with Cyrus while Auren took Vesperin to safety. In the seconds the Soul Searcher was gone, Rhyden bent and lifted the incubus.
"Don’t want to take me out to dinner first?" Cyrus mumbled.
"Shut the fuck up."
When Auren returned, the three stepped through the portal, finally in the safety of the penthouse. The lights were off, and the polished floor echoed beneath Auren’s boots as he stumbled away, falling against a wall.
"Where is she?" Rhyden demanded.
Auren didn’t answer. He fucking slid down the wall, nearly taking a framed painting with him.
Rhyden released Cyrus, and the incubus waved him off when he started to sway. "I’m fine. Where’d you think she is?" Cyrus opened doors as he stumbled away.
Rhyden blew out a sharp breath.
He was the only fucking one who had his wits about him. Was he really going to have to babysit them all?
He dragged Auren upright before following Cyrus.
Rhyden found them in his room. Not his, really—it was just the master suite he’d claimed.
The curtains were drawn, but his surveillance equipment still sat by the window.
The bed was large, piled with white, fluffy sheets and pillows.
His wife lay in the center, curled on her side, still wearing his leather jacket over her bloodied dress—Rhyden would say it was ruined, but the blood complemented her, made her look like a warrior queen.
Lucien was beside her, and Cyrus lay face-first at the foot of the bed, as if he couldn’t go any further.
Rhyden dragged Auren toward the bed. The Soul Searcher clumsily shrugged off his cloak. Auren settled beside Vesperin, arm thrown over her waist.
Though his eyes closed, Auren mumbled, "We must discuss what happened."
"Just fucking sleep. Our problems will still be there in the morning," Rhyden said, but he heard how Auren’s heart leveled out. Asleep. They all were.
He focused on Vesperin’s heartbeat. It was a wet, heavy thump in her chest. Steady—for now. Her breathing pattern was light and short, pained. But she was alive.
Rhyden sat against the headboard, one arm thrown over the pillows, fingers tangled in Vesperin’s hair as she slept between Lucien and Auren.
He’d fucking babysit. But he was still going to get his revenge. He hungered for it, didn’t he? Wasn’t the twisting in his gut as he stared at her a sign of anger?
As if she heard his thoughts, Vesperin stirred. She seemed disoriented, but when she looked up and found Rhyden sitting there, she calmed. As if he were something safe. He wasn’t.
"Kit went with her," she whispered. "He wanted to protect me—us. He’s the reason we’re alive."