Chapter XV. In Nothingness
XV
IN NOTHINGNESS
“I STOOD AT my bedchamber window, the weight of the world in my hand.
“The vial was barely a palmful; heavy, treated glass, its stopper etched with the sevenstar. I stared at the bounty, the gift, the weapon therein. The blood of the Holy Grail. My heart still ached at Dior’s loss, tinged with dread now—this was the last drop that remained of her.
All I had left to slay the Forever King.
The beast in me growled as I hefted that leaden weight in my hand, muted sunlight glittering on that beautiful red, red, RED.
“The vision her blood had shown me still haunted my mind; that star to the south, that awful black hand to the north.
Yet still, my eye was drawn ever eastward, toward the dawn where he awaited.
And sheathing the vial in a sleeve of iron—the most precious jewel in this whole realm now—I hung it about my neck and whispered my vow.
“‘Fabién.’
“All around the chateau, preparations had been underway for days. I could hear them in the falling dusk, tilting my head to listen. Long had the City of Lions kept its gates sealed, its eyes turned inward, ignoring the Emperor’s pleas for aid.
But now, a great host was being mustered, all of León unleashed.
Soldiers outfitted with hauberks of mail and mechwork crossbows, marching in formation through the courtyard under Lachie’s watchful eye, Aaron’s cold stare, Baptiste’s hopeful smile.
“I could hear Charlotte calling to her capitaines, her quartermasters. Though the commonfolk of León still whispered at my cousin’s back, now they spoke not of butchery, but bravery.
The Ashen Lioness, who along with her cousin had lit a fire upon the skin of an angel, and helped liberate this city from hell.
“Ashdrinker rested in my scabbard; as comforting a weight as ever. I drew her slow, listening to the hymn of starsteel, a little more discordant than it had been. I held her in my hand—my silvered dame, my loyal friend—studying the words etched down her length that only she and I knew the meaning of. The crack was still evident, the hairline running halfway down her length. But at its root, three fine welds were burned into Ash’s skin, halting the rupture in its tracks.
The mend’s craftsmanship was masterful, Forgemaster Cortez true to his word.
I knew she’d never be what she was, but perhaps …
“I shall b-b-be enough.
“I smiled at her silver song, ringing in my mind. My heart ached at what had become of my friend, and all for love of me. But I kissed her brow, whispering in kind.
“‘You’ve always been enough. We started down this road together. And together, we’ll reach its end.’
“I would not have it s-s-s-so, my friend. When all this is donedonedone, I would look down from my eternal reward at the life that is thine, and smile. I would have ye live, Gabriel. For m-me.
“‘A fine hope. But this isn’t a children’s tale, Ashdrinker.’
“I sheathed my blade, loosed my grip on her haft.
“‘No happy endings.’
“‘Chevalier?’
“I turned at the voice, small and soft, edged with a hint of fear.
I found Odette standing at my doorway, eyes downturned, hands clasped before her.
The maidservant was clad in the blue of lost skies, dark curls spilling over her shoulders, down her décolletage.
Her moonstime was long passed, the scent of her blood faded, but I could still recall that heavenly scent, my eyes snared on that black choker about her throat.
“The beast in me growled.
“I slammed the cage door shut. Tight.
“‘Merci, Mlle Odette. But I’ve no need for you to turn down my sheets tonight.’
“‘No, I…’
“The maidservant wrung her hands, falling silent as two houseguards marched past in the corridor outside. Lips thin, she shut the door, gaze yet fixed on the floorboards.
“‘I wish to … apologize, Chevalier de León.’
“‘Godssakes, mademoiselle, what do you have to be sorry about?’
“‘The … the way I behaved. The things I said to you.’ She lifted those dark eyes, but couldn’t hold my gaze. ‘That monster, he … he bade me bring his blood to you. I’d never have … Oh, I beg God you forgive me, Chevalier, I knew n—’
“‘Nono, peace, mademoiselle,’ I told her gently. ‘Know no shame. His blood had hold of you, and all León beside you. If anything, it’s I who should be asking forgiveness of you.’
“‘… For what?’
“‘The way I spoke … I frightened you. I’m sorry.’
“‘You’re not so frightening as all that.’ Odette smiled, risking another glance. ‘And you saved every soul in this city, Chevalier. No matter how loudly you might protest, you’re every bit the hero they sing about in your songs.’
“‘I’m no hero, chérie. Believe me.’
“I looked out the window, to the soldiers mustering in the courtyard below. Square jaws and bright eyes and unscarred blades, many too young to even shave.
“‘But I know a few.’
“The maidservant stepped closer, my eyes drawn back to hers. Even freed from the workings of Ilon’s blood, I could see it in her now, as I saw it often. That dark and perilous wanting. Like I said, some loathe we palebloods, Historian. Others adore us.
“But none ignore us.
“‘What was it you said to me?’ she asked. ‘About what people see in you? Darkness not deep enough to drown in? Fire to be danced near, but not burned by?’
“Odette brushed a lock of hair back from her throat, and I found my eyes fixed on the prize beneath. Milk-white skin, encircled by black lace, pulse thudding quicker.
“Again the beast within me roiled. But again, I slammed that cage shut.”
High in the tower of Sul Adair, the Last Silversaint sighed.
“I swear it.”
Jean-Francois glanced up from his tome, fixing Gabriel in his gaze.
He could see the miles and years hung on the man’s frame, a weight bearing him too soon into the earth.
But more now, beyond the grind of time, the lead of guilt, the historian caught a glimpse of truest darkness; of madness profound and thirst unbound, welling now in the blood-red scrawl across the Last Silversaint’s eyes.
“… Gabriel?”
“I nodded to the door,” he said. “Bidding her farewell. Odette smiled softly, shoulders slumping as she acknowledged defeat. Taking that last step across the gulf between us, she placed one gentle hand upon my cheek.
“‘You’re sweet,’ she sighed. ‘I hope you find—’
“And she froze then, like a doe in hunter’s sights.
For as she pressed that hand to my face, I felt the warmth of her, like a gaff into my skin.
I felt the want in her, like claws in my belly.
But most, I felt the beat of her, hypnotic, pressed against my cheek but reverberating through my whole body, rising like a wave tall enough to blot out every star in heaven.
“And my fingers closed around her wrist.
“Odette’s breath caught, eyes gone wide as my mouth brushed against that pulse, hot upon her skin.
Her heartbeat quickened as my lips slipped closer, pressed gently to that silk-soft white, that cerulean scrawl beneath.
I could smell her desire, washing over and through me like no holy water could, swallowing me whole.
And though I’d no wish for this woman to be the cliff I plunged over, I knew I must now do the same.
“Swallow. Her. Whole.
“As my fangs pierced her skin, Odette almost fell, overcome with the bliss of the Kiss.
Her blood crashed upon my tongue like a tempest, smashing all resolve to splinters.
A long, low moan slipped her lips, rising from somewhere deep and dark, her knees buckling.
I caught her up to stop her fall, enveloping her in my arms. Her free hand clutched my shirt, tearing at the ties, and her lips met my skin, a waterfall of breathless kisses spilling down my chest. Her hand slipped lower to fumble with my belt.
But even as she dragged me free, caressing, adoring, still I drank, all want of flesh consumed by the need of blood.
“‘Sweet Lion,’ she breathed. ‘Would you lie among my leaves?’
“I barely remember throwing her onto the bed.
Rucking up her dress and descending to the shadow between her thighs, already wet and warm as summer rain.
I spread her with my fingertips, the honeyed taste of her temple not holding a candle to her blood.
And yet, I devoured that woman, Odette grabbing my hair and pulling me tighter, hips swaying, chest heaving as she struggled simply to breathe.
She gasped as she felt my thumb, parting her petals and sinking deep, hot and tight and slick.
But it was not until I lifted my mouth from her lips and sought my true prize that she cried out, head thrown back and hips lifting off the bed as I sank my teeth deep into her thigh.
“I drank again, that beast in me roaring, reveling, wanting only more, only this, only all. The flood arterial, hot and thick and bright with iron’s tang, all of life’s symphony now ringing in the hollow of my chest and rushing out into my raging cock, through every tingling finger’s tip.
I might never have stopped had she not sunk her nails into my skin, vicious, the pain slicing through the want and dragging me momentarily to surface.
“‘Take me,’ she gasped. ‘God, fuck me, please.’
“I rose up, hissing through razored teeth, red dripping from my smile as I tore that choker from her throat. Odette reached down, took hold, hand sliding over my burning length as she set me where she needed me to be. One thrust, one bite, her every muscle stretched taut, her every heartbeat mine to own, her nails raking down my back and her legs wrapped tight around me, sunk hilt-deep but begging me to go deeper, harder, more. My whole world was washed crimson as my teeth pierced her throat, the song of our bodies colliding, her voice calling my name, all lost beneath the impossible flood of her heartbeat, plunging all I was and would ever be into nothingness.”
The Last Silversaint leaned forward, elbows to knees.
“And that’s where I left her.”