Chapter 12 Arabella
Chapter Twelve
ARABELLA
In truth, what I needed was a drink, not some fresh air.
Looking up at a clock I passed, I realized that it was almost two in the morning, and I briefly wondered if there would be anyone at the institute’s bar this time of night.
Probably… but it would be worth it. The institute featured quite a few recreational facilities, and while it didn’t just serve ‘normal’ drinks, nightmares usually preferring far stronger versions of alcohol you would find in the human world, I knew they would have at least some wine.
I nodded resolutely. A glass of wine sounded absolutely amazing right now. Then I could try to get some sleep.
Making a quick escape down the hall, crossing my arms under my chest, I found myself wishing I had changed into something a bit warmer than a short-sleeve shirt and yoga pants.
Honestly, it had been a bit of a petty move on my part, but after everything that had happened with Razar, I just wanted to make it clear that I had absolutely no problem with the marks his magic had left on my wrists while pinning me to the wall and giving me one of the best orgasms I’d ever had.
You didn’t see me trying to cover up Cy’s mark on my neck!
I frowned, wondering if he had seen it yet. Mind you, we hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time together yet, but something told me he would find it… interesting.
Or he would have a reaction like Razar did. I wasn’t positive my little heart could handle that right now.
My throat tightened as I refused to get caught up on what had happened.
I will handle it tomorrow. It had been a long day, far more complicated than I could have ever expected, and my emotions were more of a mess than they’d ever been before.
I would have a more level head tomorrow.
Or at least, that was what I kept telling myself. It was a comforting notion.
“Arabella.” Blackwell’s voice echoed through the long corridor behind me, his familiar dark magic coasting against my skin as the feeling of oil seemed to swarm around me.
I honestly considered ignoring him, but I instead came to a stop, turning to face him before putting my hands on my hips and offering him what I hoped was a blank expression.
“Yeah?” I asked, feeling like I was on the edge of losing it. If he tried to stop me, I honestly wasn’t positive how I would react. I usually liked him manhandling me a bit and being overbearing, despite my protests, but not tonight. Tonight I couldn’t do it.
“Where are you going?” His voice was firm, clearly breaking through my bullshit excuse of ‘getting air’ that he’d known was a lie. It didn’t surprise me. The man was far too perceptive, and he wasn’t one to let shit go.
“I’m going to get a drink,” I admitted, putting my hands out and offering him a tired sigh.
“A drink?” He tilted his head curiously, a confused but amused expression covering his face, as if surprised by my words.
I offered a sharp nod before he continued to walk toward me, motioning me forward.
I stepped into him, melting against his hard, firm chest. After a moment, he began to lead me down the hall as he walked next to me, wrapping his arm around me and letting me inhale his amazing burnt wood and ash scent.
As if knowing how comforting it was, he momentarily stopped, shrugging off his suit coat before slipping it onto my frame.
Honestly, I would normally make fun of him for wearing a fresh suit after a mission, because we had comfortable clothes in this world for a reason…
but I found the expensive material actually really soothing against my skin.
I made a noise of contentment that had Blackwell flashing me a small smile that I absolutely loved.
It surprised me sometimes how sweet he could be.
I didn’t spend a lot of time alone with Blackwell—mostly because of him, for the record—and I didn’t push it because I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
If he had control issues around me, I would wait for him to come to me.
Or, at least, that had been my plan. Now, things felt different, and he had sought me out.
It didn’t change that he was staying away from me clearly for the exact same reason as Razor, no doubt, but at least he had been clear about wanting me. With Razar it had always been a blurred line.
That glass of wine was sounding very appealing right now.
He wrapped an arm around my waist as we pushed open a large, dark door, leading us into a warm, fairly crowded space that quieted the moment we entered.
I ignored it, offering a small smile as Blackwell let out a low growl, making the nightmares look away as we made our way through the crowded space.
I knew people were terrified of Blackwell, but I liked to think that I balanced that out.
I also didn’t expect anyone to risk talking to us though, since my legend terror wasn’t one to shy away from violence.
Blackwell led me towards a round booth, and I slid in as he walked towards the bar, not asking what I wanted.
Then again, he seemed to always know what I wanted without asking.
I watched as the bartender offered him a nod and he strode back towards me, sliding into the booth and putting an arm behind me on the dark leather couch, encouraging me to turn into him.
I let out a small sigh and buried my head against his shoulder.
He didn’t bother filling the silence, instead just running his fingers through my hair and resting his lips against the top of my head.
Why couldn’t it always be this easy? It should be! So why were we over-complicating everything? I closed my eyes, feeling my headache mount.
“Blackwell?” I asked softly, my head rolling to look up at him.
He offered me a somewhat heated yet affectionate look. “Yes, love?”
“Why did you decide to not stay with your father? I mean, Damian and you both have entire kingdoms you could rule in Under, so why here? Especially when you are always putting yourself in danger?”
I figured tonight was the night for questions, if any, especially since we were alone.
Under was a realm where a lot of nightmares actually originated from, but unfortunately, they couldn’t stay there for long without risking growing weak from a lack of exposure to fear or terror. Unless, of course, they were extremely powerful.
It also happened to be the place where humans gathered and formed myths of Hell and the underworld.
Although, they had been rather unhappy to find out the two were directly next to one another in the damn realm.
Not only that, but there were hundreds of small kingdoms, and hundreds of thousands of nightmares.
It was a safe place for them, but as I said, it lacked proper… nutrition.
Unlike humans assumed, their souls didn’t go there to be tortured following death. In fact, humans couldn’t survive down there at all. It was one of the pieces of information that had disappointed me the most, because I very much was interested in visiting.
Blackwell tilted his head in thought as his fingers brushed along my jaw, examining my expression as his voice turned soft. “Damian doesn’t have a good relationship with his father. He wouldn’t go back even if he didn’t have a reason to stay here.”
“Reason to stay?” I lifted my brows, wanting to know more.
His eyes darkened slightly as he nodded. “Yes, he has his reasons.”
And I very much wanted to know them.
“What about you?” I asked, wanting Damian to be the one to tell me about his father. I had a feeling Blackwell understood that.
I ignored the bartender as he sat down a large glass of red wine and a dark glass for Blackwell, the surface of it lit up with flames. I grabbed my glass of wine, the scent of berries surrounding me as I kept my gaze on him.
“Damian and I knew one another growing up. We even went to the same academy in Under,” he admitted. “When he said he wanted to leave, I figured it was time to make my exit as well. That was when we came here.”
“Your father didn’t want you to stay?” I asked, frowning. I knew that his father was Hades, Lord of the Underworld or whatever he called himself, but outside of Blackwell being the legend terror’s son, I didn’t know much else.
The sad flash in his eyes before his gaze turned indifferent had me suddenly wishing I hadn’t asked, but I also desperately wanted to know more about him.
Maybe I should have asked this before now—maybe it was this simple with Blackwell—but I had been hesitant to pry.
I could feel how tense and uncomfortable both he and Damian got when their heritage was brought up, making me really wonder how bad it was.
“My father has many children; one of his bastards is the least of his concerns. I am pretty sure my stepmother was perfectly fine with me fucking off,” he mused, taking a sip of his lit drink as I took a sip of my wine, absorbing what exactly he was saying.
That was when the anger hit me, suddenly hating his stepmother.
“Is she a bitch?” I asked bluntly, wanting to know if she was the problem or if his father was. It was most likely both of them, if we were being honest.
Blackwell barked out a laugh. “Yes. She and my father both are individuals I would rather avoid. As for how we ended up here, I felt a pull and decided to follow it. We hadn’t exactly arrived Above with a plan. I was the one who suggested we come here.”
Interesting.
“Well fuck them, I’m glad you are here.” My body flushed as I took another large sip of wine, everything warming with the alcohol.
Was it dangerous to drink with Blackwell?
Yeah, probably. Would I still do it? Absolutely.
I usually held my liquor fairly well, so I didn’t think anything bad would actually happen.
Now, fun stuff? Fun stuff may happen…
Blackwell examined my expression as I took another long sip and put down my drink with a determined thunk. “Let’s get drunk.”
“I haven’t been drunk in a very long time,” he chuckled.