Chapter 16 Aurora
The water scalded my shoulders, but I cranked the handle hotter anyway. Each droplet dampened my growing concern. Pain demanded less effort than trying to figure out Harbinger’s latest vanishing act.
Eighteen hours.
Eighteen damned hours since he’d stepped through that portal with Quakelord’s body, and I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since.
When I’d cornered Terraknight this morning, asking where his captain was, he’d given me some nonsense about “patrol duty” while avoiding eye contact.
Though he’d done his best to hide it, worry creased the corners of his eyes.
The same look he’d worn when Hummingbird was dying.
He’d fussed around me afterward, asking if I was hungry, needed anything, offering his wrist with that gentle protectiveness that reminded me why Selena had fallen for him—not that she would admit it if asked.
I’d declined as kindly as I could manage, even though my fangs ached with need. The man had already given enough blood to keep Sel from slipping into bloodlust after her healing marathon. And if I was being honest, after tasting Harbinger’s blood, everyone else seemed watered down by comparison.
I shouldn’t even be in here, anyway. My room didn’t have a bathroom, so I’d been rotating between Selena and Radu’s for the past weeks. But Sel was still recovering from saving Hummingbird, and I’d figured Harbinger’s shower was free since he’d vanished to parts unknown.
Again.
I scrubbed at my arms until the skin turned raw. Gale’s homemade soap, with its rough bits of oatmeal and dried herbs, stung my flesh, but not as much as the burning ache spreading through my chest.
This was bottling his blood all over again.
I’d been stupid enough to think things had changed between us after that night on his balcony.
But nothing had changed. Sure, he let me feed from him—clinical, efficient transactions that kept me functional.
A wrist offered without ceremony, withdrawn the moment I’d taken enough to survive.
No lingering touches. Oh, there were heated glances—moments when his eyes would burn into mine with pure hunger—but hadn’t acted on them.
Not recently. And he sure as hell hadn’t tasted my blood again, hadn’t sought the connection that had shattered us both in the privacy of his quarters.
The signs had been there for days. I’d caught him staring into the fire three nights ago after the guild’s outdoor dinner, chin plopped into a cupped hand, eyes distant.
Whatever thoughts consumed him weren’t of this world—or this century.
The others had noticed too but said nothing.
Terraknight shot him worried glances. Gale kept refilling his untouched coffee.
Even Ember had held back her usual flirt.
But none of them had asked what was wrong. And I’d sat there like a coward, studying the hard lines of his profile in the firelight, wanting to reach across that invisible barrier he’d erected but too proud to make the first move. Too terrified of being dismissed—again.
The soap slipped from my wet fingers and slid along the tiles. I didn’t bother picking it up.
I ran a hand down my face. My head hurt from the mixed emotions waging a war inside me. I thought I had him figured out. That’s what I got for thinking.
Idiot. That’s what I was. Checking shadows for glimpses of platinum hair, breathing in his scent when I entered his room to shower, listening for his footsteps in the hallway, hoping that he’d engage in conversation.
I’d trained myself to read strategy and tactics, to analyze enemy movements and predict their next strike.
But when it came to Radu? I was blind as a bat.
Aggravation coursed through me, ruffled my feathers, got my hackles up.
More than anything else at that moment, I wanted to know why he’d pulled away—why he’d left me.
Why he’d held me against him like I was the only thing keeping him anchored to this world, then retreated so far into his head I couldn’t reach him even when he was sitting three feet away.
The water pressure dropped to a trickle as someone else in the house turned on a faucet. I pressed my forehead against the cool tile and tried to convince myself I didn’t care where he’d gone.
“Keep telling yourself that, Aurora. Maybe eventually you’ll believe it.”
The truth was, I’d started looking forward to seeing him. To those stolen moments when his guard dropped and I glimpsed the man beneath the captain’s mask. The way his eyes softened when he looked at me sometimes. How his voice roughened when he said my name.
I’d gotten used to being the focus of these small attentions. To mattering to someone who wasn’t obligated to care about me.
And now I couldn’t patch the cracks in my defenses fast enough to hide what his withdrawal had done to my heart. I hated feeling expendable.
I forced myself to shut off the water and stepped into the cold air.
Cracked subway tiles bit at my bare feet as I reached for a towel.
A lone half-burnt candle flickered on the plaster-barred windowsill, casting shadows that danced across the spotty mirror above the vanity.
Steam clouded the glass, so I wiped it away with my palm and met my hollow stare.
Hell. That’s what I looked like. Pale and drawn, with dark circles shadowing my eyes from too many sleepless days.
Between learning the truth about the Black Sheep, experiencing the Shepherd’s terrifying power firsthand, Quakelord’s death, and Selena still unconscious since Terraknight had brought her back, my mind refused to quiet.
And now Harbinger’s absence.
I needed to get dressed and find something to occupy my thoughts before I did something stupid like march downstairs and demand answers from Terraknight. Embarrass myself once again for being too na?ve and falling for Radu’s evasions.
My inner dialogue was not very kind when faced with stupid ideas.
The navy-blue top with delicate lace detailing slipped on easily enough. My leather pants were another matter. A war waged against stubborn material that clung to my still-damp skin. When I finally won that battle and pulled on my knee-high boots, my simmering frustration redirected from him.
At least he hadn’t insulted me with his bottled blood this time.
But how long would he be gone? My fangs already ached with need. I would have to accept Terraknight’s offer if my hunger became dangerous.
The hallway stretched before me, with flickering candles that danced in gilt-framed mirrors.
Oil paintings lined the walls, portraits of the house’s original owners.
In the months of being here, I hadn’t stopped to consider the people they once were.
What had happened to them when war struck?
Relocation, or had they fallen victim to the attacks that decimated the Tenth Ward’s defenses?
Moving past their watchful eyes, I carefully stepped around the antique side table where I’d shattered the priceless Stefan Luchian vase weeks ago.
The shards had been swept up, but the empty space remained like an accusation.
Frayed carpet edges caught at my boots as I passed Phoenix and Quakelord’s doors.
Too many empty rooms now. Too much silence.
With a heavy heart, I pushed open the door to my suffocating Victorian chamber. The familiar mustiness of old wood and dust greeted me, along with something that made my pulse spike.
Coffee and roses.
Powerful magic crackled like electricity before a storm.
My breath hitched as the portal tore open with a groan that split the air like bone snapping. Lightning bled from the edges, tendrils of white fire writhing. Sparks rained down, and I forced myself to take a step back from where they met the ground.
The wind rose in savage howls, almost tortured, and whipped my hair across my eyes, dragging the scent of frozen ozone through the room.
From the center of the portal’s storm, a figure surged forward, crashing to the floor with a sound that made my stomach turn. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the gateway let out a violent hiss and collapsed in on itself, as if someone had severed the connection with an axe.
Harbinger.
One knee hit the floor hard as he tried to right himself, the sunsteel blade clutched in his bloodied fist. His head hung low, platinum hair seemingly longer than before, wilder, matted with something dark and foul.
The stench slammed into me. Souleater ichor mixed with copper.
My heart leaped into my throat. Instinct screamed to step back from the overwhelming reek, but my body moved forward.
“Radu?”
Silence. My racing heart was the only sound.
He didn’t look up, giving me a chance to study him more closely. Heat poured off him in waves I could feel from six feet away. It took me too long to realize he wasn’t wearing a shirt—and longer still to process that his bronze skin had turned obsidian black.
What in Derzelas’ name—
He took a long breath, tilting his head enough to reveal bone structure more dramatic, more severe.
Yet he remained devastatingly beautiful in that dangerous way that made smart women do incredibly stupid things.
Golden glyphs traced up his neck in delicate spirals, pulsing like a second heartbeat as they curved along his jawline.
Ancient runes crawled across every inch of exposed flesh, spiraled down his arms, across his chest in intricate patterns that throbbed with each pulse. The markings seemed burned into his skin, speaking to some primal part of me that recognized ultimate danger at a cellular level.
My fangs snapped out in an involuntary snarl.
Was this his varcolac form?
Harbinger raised his head. Eyes that blazed like twin flames pinned me in place. His mouth was fuller, lips pulled back just enough to reveal razor-sharp fangs.