Chapter 11 #4
Rin sat behind the wheel, the car idling.
She had gotten her credit card, and Cyrus insisted on seeing to her wounds, despite her protests.
So, she pulled to the back corner of the parking lot, and now faced the incubus who had murdered in her name—who had saved her—as he carefully unpacked antiseptic cloths from a first aid kit in the glove box.
Withering… She had never heard of that before, but he had said it was a well-kept secret. She shuddered, remembering the way the men had frozen, red foam dripping from between their lips as Cyrus had sucked every bit of their life away.
It didn’t make Rin fear him; if anything, she felt safer. She didn’t have to do this alone. He could care for himself and her, if she wanted. It made the weight on her shoulders lessen.
"Look at me, doll." Cyrus tugged on a loose wave that fell over her shoulder, forcing her head gently toward his. He hissed as his purple eyes dipped to the cut on her neck, sweeping away her hair to gently clean it with the tiny antiseptic cloth. It stung dully.
When he got to her lip, the air crackled with energy. She waited for the red sparks to fill the car, but they never did—he kept his promise to her.
He gripped her chin as he carefully swiped the cloth over her bottom lip. She couldn’t stop the low sound that escaped her from the sting. Her lips parted, his thumb grazing her teeth, and he snapped out of it, shaking his head as he put away the supplies.
"All done. A kiss would help it heal better, though." Cyrus looked up at her from under his lashes. "Want to?"
Part of her melted at his boyish charm. "Maybe if you’re good," she whispered.
He grinned like a feline.
Rin’s stomach growled, and she placed a hand over it, feeling exhaustion tug at her.
"You’re hungry? We can get some food. I’ve always wanted to try the greasy fast food that humans eat in the movies," Cyrus rambled. "Let’s get my doll fed."
Rin put the car in drive, blowing out a breath. He was going to be the death of her.
The salt from the fries burned the cut on her lip.
They had found a run-down drive-through a few miles away, and she had ordered Cyrus to get in the back seat as she drove through, her gun concealed on her lap as she pulled around to the window and got their food.
A large fry for her, and the greasiest of burgers for Cyrus, along with two fizzing sodas in paper cups.
She couldn’t help the insane thought that rose. Edenville had a population of ninety-three now.
It was so unlike her that a laugh bubbled up in her chest.
Cyrus looked over at her fondly. "Your laugh is so pretty. Like bells." He rested his cheek on his knees, where they were tugged up to his chest. "What are you thinking about, doll?"
"Nothing. Just how you might be rubbing off on me." Rin smiled softly, and a pang of longing filled her as the lonely streets passed by. "I wish I remembered," she said suddenly, voice thick, "our past life."
"What do you want to know?" he mumbled around the straw.
"Everything," Rin breathed. "But tell me something good."
And so, he did.
As they drove to Lunar City, the incubus—her Soulbond, if he was to be believed, who had killed for her—spoke in a low, sultry tone, like silk over her skin.
He told her how she had padded barefoot to the balcony, in a robe spun of satin, drinking tea made from sugar rocks as she watched the sun rise over the waves. And he shared with her that he would sit at the wooden kitchen table, content to watch her instead of the sunrise.
Because you’re far more beautiful than the sky could ever wish to be.
When a gleaming metal welcome sign flashed by, buildings grew denser, streets teeming—no Rogue in sight, light cutting through the hazy city—Rin felt her throat tighten.
They were here.
Rhyden Valkar was ripped from sleep as a loud beeping sound filled the control room.
The vampire ran a ring-clad hand through his messy white hair, squinting at the screens before him.
Low light glowed from nearly a hundred grainy monitors scattered before him—lonely streets, bustling clubs, and basement rooms.
His city.
Lunar City.
Rhyden leaned forward, nearly knocking the mug of blood over in his haste to shut off the goddamned beeping sound. He eyed the cup, grabbing it and taking a long drink. Cold and slightly congealed. How long had he been asleep?
Dammit.
Grimacing, he set the mug down and flicked through the blue-scale images at an inhuman pace.
There. Rhyden paused over an image, brows furrowing.
"The Aether detector," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
He’d been run ragged, hunting the fuckers who had been abducting Aetherborns, trying to find them before they were taken, using illegal Stella-sensers to detect unique Aetherborn energy signatures—allowing them to be found whenever they came into Lunar City.
Rhyden was a fucking crime lord, boss of this cesspool of sin, but goddamn it, he wouldn’t let innocents be taken for whatever twisted purpose.
The small red warning lights flashed on the screen, and he clicked over it, the blocky letters popping up:
Aetherborn detected. 1107 Scourge St. Block 4.
Scourge Street. That was in the fucking slums. Dangerous. The underground flesh markets there traded in all types of species, dead… or alive.
Rhyden enlarged the image, finding the flickering sign of Scourge Motel, hazy from the graphics. He zoomed in further, seeing two figures shrouded in darkness hurry underneath the sign, until they disappeared inside.
He leaned in… a little more.
Rewound it in bursts, finding the perfect moment, and there—
One of the figures, a smaller build. Female. Dark hood over her face, tilted at an angle as she glanced up at the small surveillance camera tucked under the awning of the motel. He captured the image of her face, clarifying it with just a click.
And Rhyden felt the blood he had just downed threaten to come back up.
It was her.
Vesperin.
After all of these years. Hundreds of years.
And she was back. In his city. On his turf.
"My god," Rhyden whispered, staring at the paused image of her on the screen.
He left the screen that way, even as he grabbed his phone and the keys to his motorcycle, sending off a quick text to two of his… friends—no, Rhyden didn’t have friends, associates was a better term—to meet him at the address he forwarded.
The dark lights of Lunar City whizzed by as he pushed his motorcycle to its limits, the speedometer ticking up, up, up, as he wove through cars and ran red lights.
He didn’t fucking care.
He had one thing in mind.
Seeing Vesperin in the flesh, and figuring out if she was real or a sleep-deprived hallucination.
But god help her if she were real. She had some fucking explaining to do.
"There’s… only one bed." Rin stared at the small bed in the middle of the motel room, the ugly plaid comforter fraying at the ends.
Cyrus set his bag down on a faded blue recliner in the corner of the room, leaving wet footprints on the shag carpet. "We’ve shared a bed before, doll."
"Right." Rin grimaced.
On the outskirts of Lunar City, Scourge Motel had been a good choice to stay under the radar. All one level, with the doors opening to the outside—better for a quick exit.
The blinds were open, revealing a wonderful view of an overflowing dumpster, slow rain falling in the back parking lot.
Rin placed her bag beside Cyrus’s, peering out the window at the foggy night.
Satisfied no one was out there, she shut the blinds, casting the room in a low darkness, moonlight seeping through the cracks.
She fumbled for the lamp by the bedside, clicking it on as the yellow glow chased away the shadows. "There’s not much we can do right now. We’re both exhausted," Rin sighed. "Do you want to take a shower?"
Cyrus poked at the sheets, wrinkling his nose. He’d shoved back his hood, rain dripping from his red hair. "You can go first."
Rin wasn’t going to argue. Her eyes felt dry from the hours-long drive, staring at the empty road, and the split on her lip was stinging. They had to recoup before they looked into LunCo.
After a quick shower, with sputtering water oscillating between too hot and too cold, she dressed in black leggings and a soft grey shirt, finding some toothpaste and little toothbrushes wrapped in plastic under the sink, which she used to freshen up.
Then, she combed through her hair with her fingers, pinching her pale cheeks to bring some color back.
As she stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, the yellow glow from the lamp revealed Cyrus staring out the window, parting the blinds with his fingers. He turned to her, letting the blinds fall closed.
His purple eyes dipped down her body. She had never felt so exposed.
"Your turn," Rin said quietly.
"You’re the prettiest thing in this room," Cyrus whispered. And the way he said it, as if it wasn’t flattery, but fact.
She fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist. "Hardly an achievement."
Cyrus grabbed some clothes from his bag, gripping the door frame to the bathroom as he leaned back and crooned, "You’re the prettiest thing in the galaxy." The door shut behind him, leaving her standing alone in the motel room, far in over her head.
She was going to share a bed with an incubus. Again.
Rin turned down the sheets, sneezing as dust wafted from them, and decided to sleep atop the covers. As she sat down and threw her legs over the side, she grabbed her phone, sending a quick message to Lucien:
All good… Just got to a hotel.
He replied almost instantly. Have you eaten? Taken your medicine?
Her cheeks warmed as she nestled down further into the bed, her damp hair hanging around her shoulders and leaving water stains on the pillow.
The glow of her phone blinded her as she typed, Yes, sir.
He didn’t respond for so long, she wondered if maybe he had fallen asleep. It was nearly 5 AM, after all.
Finally, his response came through. It’s late. Go to sleep.