Chapter Five
Roux
Ihadn’t let go of his hand yet. There was something familiar and comforting about the way his fingers felt around mine, and I couldn’t bring myself to let go. I somehow felt that if I did, I’d be losing some part of me.
There was also something nagging at the heart of me, plucking at the strings of my soul. A whisper of memory that grew louder every time I looked at him. Something in me knew him. Knew the intricate planes of his face beyond a mere acquaintance. And it yearned for him in a desperate way.
I couldn’t make sense of it. I’d never met this man before, despite him saying I’d been in the Vault before and stolen the Diadem.
How the hell I’d ever gotten that far before, on my own, I did not know.
I’d struggled getting to the heart of the Vault as a powerful Reaper with two Hellhounds, a vampire king, a nightmare demon and the God of Death.
I had to admire that pluckiness of my previous self if I’d gotten to the Diadem all by myself before. I mean, that was impressive, wasn’t it?
I looked at my companion, drinking in his otherworldly features and Victorian attire. “Have you always dressed like that?”
He looked down at his clothes, a pinched frown on his face. “No, but this is the style I was wearing when I arrived. I assume fashion has changed considerably since I’ve been down here. I will have to learn all the latest nuances.”
“No,” I practically yelled before blushing horribly and looking anywhere but at him. “I mean no, um, I like your clothes. They suit you.”
“Then I shall keep them if they please you.”
And why did that thought make the spot behind my solar plexus heat with warmth?
He stared at me for a moment, those bright red eyes glowing in the low light.
I could feel his eyes roving over my face, his gaze a physical caress over my skin.
The tugging sensation in my soul started again the longer our eyes were connected.
I didn’t understand it, but whatever it was, it felt like it was woven into the very core of me.
Something inevitable and undeniable. Why couldn’t I remember who this man was? What was it that had such a hold on me?
I reached out and brushed a lock of his shadow-black hair away from his eyes, and a spark of lightning tingled in the end of my fingers. “Who are you?”
The light dimmed in his eyes, and shadows played about the lines of his face, making them appear sharper. “You really do not remember?”
I shook my head, a little stab of sadness hitting me as the light faded further from his eyes.
He frowned and looked away, muttering under his breath. “I don’t understand why it hasn’t worked. It was supposed to work.” He gazed at me again, his eyes fierce and determined. His hands gripped my upper arms, squeezing tightly. “You were supposed to remember!”
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, his fingers bruising in their grip. “I don’t—“
He growled and turned away, thrusting his hands through his hair and pulling at the strands. He paced frantically, mumbling to himself like a madman. “Where is she? She was supposed to be whole. Complete. Not this fragment.”
He slammed his hands against the wall in rage and frustration, shadows flowing from his fingers like he had no control over them.
The light started to fade from the corridor, slowly eaten up by the man fracturing in front of me.
I was torn between the part of me that was sad at seeing him falling apart and the need to defend myself, caught between my fight or flight response.
I needed to pick a side soon, or I was going to be lost to the darkness.
My scythe materialised in my hands, and I widened my stance so that I was ready for battle. “I think you need to take a breath and calm down.”
He spun on his heel, and I flinched at the pure unfiltered rage and pain pouring from his eyes as they hit mine. The shadows tugged at his hair, making the strands float as if they were in a breeze, and his eyes glowed impossibly bright.
“Calm down?” he seethed. “For centuries I have waited for this moment. I planned it down to the last possible detail, taking account of every possibility, and yet you’re here. An imposter. A mere shadow of my love, and you want me to calm down?!”
Well, when he put it that way, I probably wouldn’t calm down either. I clenched my hands around the handle of my scythe and centred myself. “Look, I’ll help you figure this out.”
He barked a laugh, and the shadows around him pulsed and crackled with forks of red lightning as he stalked towards me menacingly.
“Figure this out? And how are you going to accomplish that? Will you wave your little scythe and hope for the best? Use that weak magic of yours to pull some answers from the Underworld? Tell me, Reaper, how will you ‘figure it out’?”
I sighed; he had me there. “I don’t have all the answers, but I want to help. Surely that counts for something.”
“Without her, there is nothing. Nothing but pain and loneliness and this empty hollow that exists here.” He slammed his fist against his chest. “Mere answers will not bring her back. And now my plan has failed, and I will never get her back.”
His voice was raw and cracked, and it pulled at those damn strings around my soul. “No, but it’s a place to start. Please.”
There was such distrust in his eyes, and I couldn’t bear the weight of it in his gaze.
“Please,” I begged again. “Just let me help.”
I bravely—or foolishly, I wasn’t sure which—took a step towards him. I kept my movements slow and steady, like I was approaching a feral Chimaera on the cusp of singeing more than my eyebrows. The shadows around him thickened, swirling around his legs until I could barely see them.
“What are you doing?” he hissed, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
I took another step closer. I really hoped this didn’t kill me, but I was trusting my gut here. Trusting that he needed a connection to something real.
“Stay back.” He sounded a little more wary now, and the red forks of lightning intensified as I came closer. The hairs on my arm stood up with the static electricity in the air.
I let my scythe go back to the shadow realm and held my hands out placatingly. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”
He snarled at me like a beast, caught up in all the rage and hatred I could see in his eyes.
I took a deep breath, prayed to Nyx I was doing the right thing, then stepped into the shadows and slowly wrapped my arms around his waist. Magic pulsed beneath my fingers, like it was woven into the very essence of him and swirled beneath his skin.
He was stiff in my arms, his back ramrod straight and all his muscles coiled with tension.
I pressed my cheek against the spot over his heart and stroked my hands up and down his spine. Surprisingly, his heart was steady and slow. I had expected it to be racing with all the anger, but it wasn’t. It was just a steady thud, almost too slow, but maybe that was just the way he was.
“What are you doing?” He grumbled, and his voice rumbledthrough his chest.
“I thought that was obvious, shadow man.” I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “I’m hugging you.”
He harrumphed in response, which I found totally adorable. Maybe underneath all the dark grumpiness there was a sweetheart lurking. I looked up at him again and caught his sharp scowl.
Maybe not.
I didn’t know how long I stood in the shadows hugging my dark statue, but eventually his muscles softened beneath my touch as he released the tension with a deep exhale. His shadows still swirled around us, but they’d lost the aggressive sparks of red lightning.
“I apologise,” he said softly.
I arched my head back to look at him. “What for?”
He tucked a strand of my bright red hair behind my ear, and I felt that spark again. “I think I’ve been alone for too long.”
Well, hopefully, that wouldn’t be the case for much longer.
I knew I was taking a massive risk, but I trusted my instincts.
They rarely steered me wrong, and there was something about him that drew me in.
Something that made me feel connected to him.
I couldn’t leave him behind, even if I wanted to.
The cool tendrils of his shadows coiled around my lower legs, and it was strange how solid they felt.
I expected them to be like a cool breeze or current, but they were more like cords, binding me to him.
I was curious what else they could do and whether they had independent thought or if they were wrapped around me because that's what he wanted.
He pinched my chin between his finger and thumb, and my gaze dropped to his mouth. His lips looked pillowy soft, full and plump and deep red. His mouth was almost too wide for his face, and his top lip was a little fuller than the bottom one with a Cupid's bow that would make even the angels weep.
“We’re about to have company,” he said, pulling my gaze back to his eyes. They sparked with a little bit of mirth as I slowly blinked at him, not quite taking in what he was saying.
“What?”
“Your band of merry men is about to round the corner.”
Did that make me Robin Hood? I snorted. I suppose that depended on whether this man counted as stolen goods and how much I needed him.
“Can you pull your shadows back in?”
He frowned, those black eyebrows looking severe and sharp. “Why?”
“The guys have a tendency to go into attack mode at the first sign of a threat, and I don’t want to start a fight.”
He pursed his lips, and I glanced down at his mouth again, which was quickly becoming my new obsession. “As you wish, Asteri.”
He pulled his shadows back into his body, and I missed their touch around my legs. Light filtered back into the stone corridor and flickered like candlelight, which was strange, as there didn’t seem to be any actual light source anywhere.
“Where does the light come from?”
He laughed softly, but there was a hint of sadness under the bright tone. “I govern more than just the darkness, Reaper. Just like there’s more to you than you.”
“What—“
“Roux!”