Chapter 14 Treacherous #2
She owed him nothing—Soulbond or not. Perhaps that was why she turned her face away from the vampire, inhaling Cyrus’s soft berry scent to chase away her unease.
Sleep claimed her before she could decide whether it was Cyrus’s warmth or Valkar’s watchful eyes that unsettled her more.
Rhyden watched his wife and Soulbond, in the arms of another. An incubus, no less.
She was fucking killing him. Her sweet eyes and soft voice, her skin and white hair, spilling over the incubus’s arm as he held her close to him on the bed.
Her skin was still pale, and his ears picked up on every stutter of her heart. He was a second away from jumping into action whenever it lasted too long, faltered too much. But it always evened out.
As they both slept, he sent some messages out on his phone, taking care of business, telling himself he was staying here to make sure they didn’t try to escape—but he knew the real reason:
He couldn’t stand to leave her. And he wanted to make sure her heart was steady.
Rhyden must’ve dozed off himself, because his neck ached as he jolted awake. The room was quiet, filled only with the sound of steady breaths. They were still asleep. Good.
His phone was on his lap, and he picked it up, lowering the brightness so it wouldn’t hurt his eyes, not so it wouldn’t wake her up—that was fucking stupid.
One message from Miro.
He clicked on it.
Found what you needed, boss. Didn’t even have to kill anyone.
Rhyden suppressed a sigh, typing back, Want a gold star?
Yes…
Maybe Rhyden needed new underlings. He typed a reply. That was fucking sarcasm, dumbass. What did you find?
There’s going to be a big trade between LunCo’s supply and an unnamed buyer. Big. Miro emphasized the word with red exclamation points. Another message came through. One week from now. The underground is buzzing about it. Something weird is going on.
It was almost too easy. Rhyden ran his tongue over the tip of a fang, watching Vesperin as she rolled over in her sleep, face turning toward him, her lips slightly parted. The damned incubus nuzzled into her hair in his sleep, and why the fuck did Rhyden wish that was him, instead?
He typed a reply, growing impatient. Where?
Coordinates came through, and he clicked on them, somehow knowing exactly where they’d be even before it loaded on the map screen.
"Fuck," he growled lowly, watching the small red pin hovering over the destination on the map. "Solar City."
Auren slashed his scythe through the air, stepping through the portal and straight into Lucien’s apartment, the sleek lighting illuminating the doctor, who leaned against the kitchen counter, a glass of amber liquid in hand and glasses on the countertop by his elbow.
"Lucien," Auren announced when the man didn’t look up.
Lucien started, and thorny vines shot out from a small potted plant that hung from the ceiling, green tendrils heading straight for Auren. When Lucien saw it was Auren, the vines wilted and turned to ash midair, falling to the pristine floor.
Auren watched him calmly.
"Soul Searcher, do you always pop in unannounced?"
Auren tsked under his breath, hooking his scythe over his back.
The ends of his white cloak fluttered as he stalked nearer to the counter.
A gloved hand rested atop it as he stared down the man.
"I thought we were past the titles, Lucien Quenlan?
If we are to protect Vesperin together, it would serve us both well to do away with discomfort. "
This man was his Soulbond’s other piece. Auren wanted them to be friends…
"Auren," Lucien corrected, lifting his glasses and placing them back on his nose. "Why are you here?"
Mistrust still clouded the edges of his tone—faint, but there.
Auren hated it, but he understood. The doctor had been alone for a long time.
Even with Kiton, he hadn’t let himself rely on him.
Not that Lucien had shared that with Auren, but he had picked up on it.
The way he spoke, his guarded eyes. It was all there.
An expression Auren knew well. For he had always had no one to rely on—save Vesperin, the few times he had been blessed with her Soul.
Since Auren had cornered Lucien and shared what he knew, their alliance had been shaky. But every time Auren showed up in Lucien’s office, the man seemed to loosen around him.
Though, this was the first time Auren had shown up in his home.
He had good reason. Information that couldn’t wait.
"I am sorry to intrude," Auren said lowly.
Lucien sighed, casting a look at the dark screen of his phone where it sat on the counter. "I trust there’s a reason for you being here at such a late hour."
"It could not wait." The Soul Searcher spread his gloved hands on the countertop and leaned in close, wary even in this privacy.
Too many eyes, always watching. "Not here.
Come with me." In a quick move, he grabbed his scythe and swung it through the air, thinking of the place safest to him—his home.
The portal shimmered, and Lucien eyed it with caution.
"Trust, Lucien. It is how we keep her safe," Auren prodded.
The doctor reached for his glass and knocked it all back, exhaling as he waved a hand to the portal. Together, they walked through it.
Auren’s home was in the middle of nowhere.
As a Soul Searcher, he was tasked with a planet. And his planet of task was, of course, Earth. So Earth, he stayed.
Soul Searchers were normal Souls. Auren had been a normal Soul.
A man. It had been so long ago he forgot what being human felt like…
His memories of death had been wiped, as had any of his memories before being appointed as a Soul Searcher.
He merely knew he had been a man, and he knew he had lived on Earth. Auren knew nothing else.
He did not know if he chose to be a Soul Searcher or if it had been forced upon him by the Celestials. It was his task, and he would see it through.
He had seen it through; for so many centuries, memories blurred. The only times that stood out were the ones in which Vesperin had been there.
And now she was here again, and Auren would do whatever possible to keep her safe.
His home was tucked in the mountains, far from any civilization. Far up on a peak reachable only by helicopter—which he had never taken—or by portal, which he always used. The perfect place for a being such as himself.
The wooden floor creaked under him as he placed a teacup on the polished wood table, set low in the cozy living room. Warm flames crackled in the fireplace. It was colder here than in the city.
Steam wafted from the teacup, and it clinked against the saucer as Lucien reached for it.
Auren settled down on the couch across from Lucien, his scythe resting on the chair beside him.
"You brought me to your home in the middle of nowhere. There is no cell reception, and you very well could have drugged this tea to kill me," Lucien started. Still, he sipped at the tea, and Auren smiled at the show of trust.
"If I wanted to be rid of you, I could have reaped your Soul in an instant, before you even realized." Auren spoke plainly. It was factual, not meant to scare the man. "I’ve no wish to kill you, as I have said before."
"Then why bring me here?"
"I fear your apartment is not safe." He leveled the doctor a firm look.
The windows were open, dark green leaves swaying in the endless forest outside.
It was always a risk with the Rogues, but Auren was skilled at killing the monsters.
"There are things happening beyond our control, and at the very heart of it, Blackfall Industries. "
"I’m very well aware Blackfall Industries is corrupt," Lucien replied coolly.
"You may, but not the level of corruption—it runs deep. And for centuries," Auren asserted, unable to hide the shiver that befell him.
Even here, he was wary, but no eyes watched. This place was his haven. He chose his words carefully. Some things must be kept hidden for now, but whispers spoke of something treacherous coming. Lucien needed to be prepared.
Auren had a feeling…
"Something is coming. I’ve picked up on whispers," Auren echoed his own thoughts, staring at the steam curling over the lip of the teacup. "Blackfall Industries is working on a project at the underground lab in Nova Zone 21. I know you have been there."
"I go when I’m called."
"And when will you go back?" Auren needed to know.
Lucien paused, tongue poking in his cheek as he thought, before finally sighing. "Tomorrow. I’ve been requested to run tests on new blood samples."
That was good. Sooner than expected. The vise around Auren’s chest released.
"I do not know much, merely a name. Project Phoenix." Auren’s words hung between them.
Lucien had asked him to look into the nature of Kiton’s death, and in doing so, Auren had found only this.
Project Phoenix.
Phoenix.
The dead rising from ashes to be reborn.
The underground was alight in whispers of this project. Something big that was being worked on.
"What is it?" Lucien asked, green eyes hard behind his glasses.
Auren wished he could give a straight answer. He did not know, not truly. Only what the whispers said. That Project Phoenix was…
"A weapon," said Auren. "I believe it is a weapon."
Rin was led down the dark stone halls, flames flickering in sconces as her bare feet shifted from rugs to cold stone.
Cyrus was pressed close to her back, Valkar in front of them both.
True to his word, she had been allowed to message Lucien before she had slept and when she had awoken. But nothing else.
She fisted her hands in the hem of the too-large shirt she wore, smelling of peppermint—Valkar’s. The hem brushed her thighs with each step.
After she had awoken, Valkar had shown her a cramped shower in the medbay, Cyrus guarding outside. When she came out, hair dripping and skin flushed, she’d found her washed leggings and a folded shirt, waiting on the sink.