Chapter 40
FORTY
No experience, no matter how unique, belongs to you alone.
ALISTAIR
I wake to the scent of blood.
For a heartbeat, I hover in a state of confusion. The smell is oddly familiar but wrong somehow, too.
“S’lach, keth va thessa. Irak vaen!” The woman’s voice is frantic. I don’t need to understand her words to recognize the pleading tone.
Bloody hell, is he here? My eyes snap open. The others are still asleep, their measured breathing reassuring in the stillness of the unfamiliar room. There’s no one else here, but we aren’t alone either. This is another echo—one of the ones Celine doesn’t want us to see.
The ghostly figures are on my side of the bed, a younger version of Celine and her mother cowering in the corner as S’lach advances on them. His apparition is different from theirs. Less silver, it’s a dingy gray, almost charcoal, and difficult to make out in the dark.
I’m glad for that.
As he takes his anger out on them, I force myself to stare at the ceiling. We promised Celine we wouldn’t watch these echoes, but I’m not sure what to do. I can’t stop him; this happened years ago, but lying here helpless is torture.
He’s hurting my angel, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Rolling to face Ciprian, I turn my back on the scene and squeeze my eyes shut.
Valenara’s echoes are vivid. In a way, they remind me of Ciprian’s nightmares, with sounds and smells coming through in addition to the visuals. Ciprian’s illusions are clearer, but something about the haziness of the echoes makes them worse to witness.
Plus, Ciprian’s nightmares aren’t real; they’re products of his imagination. This abuse really happened to Celine and her mother. We’ve stumbled upon the records of S’lach’s cruelty that murder and time couldn’t destroy.
Someone whimpers, and the smell of blood gets stronger.
My eyes snap open. I can’t keep them shut any longer. It goes against every vampire instinct to ignore such an obvious threat. The hair on my arms is standing on end, and my fangs are throbbing, eager to tear S’lach’s head off.
I’m also afraid. It’s that emotion that wakes Ciprian up.
His eyes focus on me before bulging as they spot the echo in the corner. He opens his mouth, and I shake my head. I don’t want Celine to wake up and be forced to relive this.
Ciprian’s jaw clenches, and his cheekbones sharpen.
His magic rolls over my mind like a soft blanket tucking me in.
The smell of blood fades, replaced by the coconut scent of the shampoo Celine loves.
It’s not real. Celine left that shampoo in the Fringes, but Ciprian recreated a smell that comforts us both and doused the bed with it.
He doesn’t add noise to drown out the beating, but he does something to mute it, returning the room to silence.
I relax in waves, unclenching my hands and letting my limbs sink into the mattress one at a time.
I tuck my face against Ciprian’s shoulder and find his hand beneath the blanket and link it with mine.
I’m not sure if he can mute the echo for himself too or if he’s experiencing both realities at once.
Either way, I won’t leave him alone with it.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He squeezes my hand and props his chin on top of my head but doesn’t risk responding out loud. Neither of us want to wake the others. Celine and Malach have enough bad memories to avoid, and they both need sleep. I’m so focused on them, it takes me a while to realize we aren’t the only ones awake.
Riven’s breathing is shallow and irregular—he’s definitely on guard.
For three minutes and thirteen seconds, none of us speak. Then Ciprian sighs, and his cheekbones return to normal. “It’s over,” he whispers.
I’m beyond relieved. Besides covering my ears, closing my eyes, and trying not to breathe through my nose, I don’t know how to keep my promise to Celine.
We can’t control the echoes, but at least we have a line of defense.
What I sensed, Ciprian was able to hide before it hurt Celine.
It’s nice to be able to protect her even in a small way.
Riven is the wild card. I’m curious what he thinks about all this.
He’s a valuable ally; I can accept that easily.
I didn’t spend a decade creating a successful business gathering and selling information only to become blind to the benefits of an alliance with him.
But he’s more than a source. He’s sharing Celine’s bed with us, witnessing her most painful, intimate memories, and somehow becoming part of this mess right alongside the rest of us.
I haven’t forgiven him for the monster realm, but I understand what it’s like to be bound by a contract. My brand of ethics wouldn’t hold up to human standards. I’m aware of that, but I stick to them. I think Riven does the same.
If he wants to prove himself worthy of Celine, I’ll allow it.
I’ll play nice until the moment he fucks up. And he better hope for everyone’s sake that he never does, because one new mistake will bring all the old ones crashing down on him. And per my count, he still has a lot to make up for.
I would warn him, but he already knows. It’s clear from the cautious way he orbits us.
Riven is in, for now, and I’ll fully accept him when he earns it.
The lights come on gradually.
I open my eyes. Ciprian and Luca are still next to me, but the other side of the bed is empty. A second of careful listening tells me the other three are in the bathroom, their voices reaching us faintly.
“I still want to know how the lights work,” Ciprian says.
Luca groans and stretches his arms over his head. “Ask after.”
Neither of us need clarification. Celine and her father will face off today, and something tells me it won’t be a quick or easy confrontation. There’s too much at stake for both of them.
Luca rolls out of bed. Ciprian and I trail behind.
I watch Ciprian from the corner of my eye, surreptitiously searching for any signs of fatigue.
He can use his magic whenever and however he wants, but after seeing him push too hard in the monster realm, I can’t help but worry.
He’s not a tool. He’s mine, and I don’t want to watch him hurt himself.
“I’m okay, Ali,” he murmurs. “I only used what you gave me, and I slept the rest of the night like a baby.” My fear. I hate acknowledging it, but knowing he was able to put it to good use soothes the sting.
Luca glances over his shoulder at us and narrows his eyes. I press a finger to my lips. “There was another echo last night,” I whisper. “Ciprian covered it with a nightmare so it wouldn’t wake anyone else.”
I won’t share specifics now, and I don’t intend to later. That memory was private, and now that I’ve seen the kinds of things Celine was worried about, I understand her desire for privacy.
Luca nods in understanding and nudges me with his shoulder before attempting to smooth Ciprian’s wild hair. “You look like a cactus.”
“Leave it,” Ciprian drawls. “Strutting around with bed head communicates confidence, don’t you think? A subtle ‘fuck you’ to the establishment. That might be helpful here.”
Luca snorts. “Only a rich kid would think messy hair was a form of rebellion.”
They tease each other, exchanging good-natured digs as we approach the bathroom. Six people will be a tight fit, but I’m too tense to be separated from Celine right now.
I knock, and the door slides open immediately, disappearing inside a sleek slot in the wall. “Sorry.” I hold my hands up as all three of them turn to look. “I was trying to knock, and the door ran away.”
Celine smirks. “I let you in.” She points at a pearly disk mounted on the wall.
“Press that if you want the door to open.” She runs her finger along the top curve of the disk, and the glow gets brighter.
“It controls the lights, too.” She repeats the same move on the bottom curve.
I jump as steam fills the room, and she laughs.
“Sauna mode? That’s amazing.” Ciprian steps around me and claps his hands. “How do I summon a toothbrush?”
“I packed your toothbrush for you,” Luca says. “It’s in the front pocket of your bag.”
Ciprian shrugs. “Yeah, but I’d rather summon one.”
Celine points at the small white box protruding from the wall. “Put your face in there and open your mouth.”
Ciprian balks. “Take me out to dinner first, babe.”
“It cleans your teeth,” Celine says drily.
“Sure.” Ciprian shakes his head. “I’ve seen the movies, hot wings, and I’m pretty sure that’s not what’s happens.”
Rolling his eyes, Luca steps up to the box and bends to press his face inside. There’s a moment of silence, then a humming sound, followed by rushing water. My eyebrows shoot up as a fan whirs to life and the muscles in Luca’s shoulders clench.
When he pulls his face out, Ciprian and I stare at him, waiting for a verdict.
Luca grins. “I didn’t expect the floss. That was wild, baby. How does it do every tooth at the same time? The strings didn’t seem connected to anything else.”
Celine shrugs. “I’ve never asked.”
I shake my head. “Angel, your lack of curiosity astounds me.”
“Magic is a good enough answer.” Ciprian eyes the box again and runs his tongue over the front of his teeth, eyes cutting to Luca. “Did it hurt?”
Luca shakes his head. “Not at all.”
I sink into an awkward, half-squat to get my face level with the box.
“Sorry about the height,” Celine says. “It was installed for me as a kid.”
I grunt in response, worried the box will do its thing before I’m in position. Bollocks, I dove right in, but what if it doesn’t know about fangs? If it files them into the perfect celestial smile, I’m going to lose it.
My mouth explodes with sensation. Cold water. Something minty and clean. More water. Then short, synchronized bursts of pressure as the box washes between my teeth. Air comes next, drying my teeth before a short chime trills inside my head.
It’s the most ‘we’re done here’ sound I’ve ever heard.
Pulling my face from the box, I run my tongue over my teeth. My fangs—thank the gods—are still there and perfectly smooth.
“That,” I say, grinning widely at the others, “was delightful.”
Celine exchanges a conspiratorial grin with Malach. “I’m glad you liked it.”
Ciprian takes his turn, although his dark stare remains suspicious.
He doesn’t have to bend as far as me, but I wait until he’s hunched over to pinch his ass.
He jumps, but his face is already in the box, so the device starts working while he’s yelling at me.
The gargling is priceless. When he pops loose, his chin is wet, and there’s foam in the corner of his mouth.
“I think you moved too much,” I say drily.
His eyes flash. He’s about to lunge at me when the walls around us tremble and the lights flicker ominously. A second later, someone bangs on the bedroom door.
“He’s back,” Lyklan shouts. “He’s trying to get in.”
Celine rolls her shoulders, and her expression hardens. “And so it begins.” She squeezes Malach’s hand and gives Riven a look. “He can try to get in until he’s blue in the face. I won’t back up or give in. Not this time. He’s about to learn exactly how strong I am.”
I don’t doubt her, I really don’t—I just wish she didn’t have to keep proving it.