33 || Blood and Bottles
Awkwardness had never wrapped around them as much as it did. It breathed down Morana's neck, leaving shivers of uncertainty to rush down her spine. The hair on her arms stood upright, gooseflesh rising underneath, as Lillith stared down at her.
She and Damian took up one side of the table that they had been set up at in Itros' back room. The Vampire and an empty seat for the bartender remained opposite them. He had promised food and a civil conversation, but Morana had a feeling they were going to get anything but.
The necromancer wished she had a proper weapon to defend them with. While a sword could harm Itros, it wouldn't even be a hindrance to a Vampire. Neither would bones, if she had any. Only a stake enchanted with magic could end a pureblood's life.
Once, Morana had found comfort in Lillith's presence, seeking her company after a long day of following her boss' orders.
She had adored her, loved her with everything she had.
Until she had fucked up yet again and ruined it.
Now, Lillith only looked at her with hate and disgust — expressions that weren't going to work well when the Vampire was trying to convince them this wasn't a trap.
Lillith glanced between the Fireborn and the necromancer, tapping her crimson nails on the table. "I see you've moved on pretty fast."
"It's been over a year." The assassin crossed her arms. "Just because you're old and time moves quicker for you doesn't make it any different."
"You two... used to date?" Damian straightened his posture, his fingers remaining on the hilt of his sword.
"Unfortunately so," she drawled. "I know first-hand how dangerous it is to do that and, my advice? Don't do it, fireling. It only ends with death."
Morana's fingers clenched into a fist. "That was an accident." She eyed the small scar that was lodged in Lillith's neck.
It wasn't her fault how their relationship had ended — that she was cursed beyond repair.
The Vampire had been there for her when nightmares of her past resurfaced again and again.
She had even confided in her, sharing the blood and gore those dreams entailed.
Only, when she woke one night and couldn't distinguish reality from a dreamscape, her necklace soared with fear and she never found that comfort again.
Lillith scoffed. "It's a good thing I'm already undead. Otherwise, I would be on the list of Mor's accidental kills. Be careful of that necklace."
Damian linked his free hand with the necromancer's, unfurling the knuckles that whitened with frustration. "I'll make that decision for myself, thank you."
For a moment, Morana's anger disappeared. Her heart thudded against her ribcage in protest. "You're not making it any easier not to stab you."
The door that connected the room to the tavern swung open and Itros pushed through. Three plates were carefully balanced along his arms and a wine glass was slipped between his fingers. "I'm glad to see you're all still in one piece."
While three of them had extra helpings of food that they only poked and prodded at, the Vampire had a large glass of blood.
Lillith raised it to her lips and took a long sip, sighing in relief.
The blood already stained her dark lips.
Her veins pulsed a sickening onyx and her eyes glowed with a daunting scarlet as it entered her body, her fangs growing in length as they waited for her next prey.
"I'm still waiting for Silas to come in through one of these doors," Damian murmured under his breath.
"And that isn't going to happen," the bartender assured. "If he did, I have a few hundred patrons willing to make him suffer."
Morana watched Itros and Lillith. "I thought you two hated each other."
"Good," she replied with a smile. "That means our facades are working."
"The facades that a large group of people have been working on," he added. "We're going to trust you with this information. If a word of this gets back to Silas, we're all fucked."
"So can you keep your mouth shut?" Lillith trailed her tongue over the tips of her fangs.
"Considering we aren't on the best of terms right now, he won't hear anything from me." The necromancer shrugged.
"What about fire boy over here? Can he keep a secret?" She motioned to Damian, swirling the remains of her glass.
"Don't call him that," Morana growled. Her hands itched to tear her drink from her and throw it across the room. Shegave him that nickname, so it was her's alone to use.
"I can, I promise."
"About half of the people Silas has collected over the years have banded together to form a rebellion of sorts.
They're tired of fearing for their lives and the information being held over their heads, so it's time to put a stop to it.
" Itros picked up a slice of buttered bread and mindlessly picked at the crust. "We've been planning this for years. "
Morana leant back in her chair. A rebellion was something Silas had planned for.
He had measures against everything that could threaten to tear him down.
The vicious man held a lot of puppet strings.
It was only natural that some of them would eventually snap.
She could hear his words ringing in her ears.
However, if Itros and Lillith had half of his lackeys backing them, there was a possibility they could stand a chance against his tyranny. It seemed hopeful — perfect, even.
"It sounds like you have this all worked out," the assassin began. "If you're telling the truth, what's been stopping you? You could raid his office and dens, take them by storm, and be done with this."
"You," Lillith revealed. "If we try anything against Silas, he'll send the only person he can trust after us, which is you. We have a whole host of different races in the rebellion, all with different gifts to aid us, but nothing would stand a chance against you."
Morana raised a brow. "Say that again. I think I just heard you praise me."
"If you have half of Silas's people, how are you sure that he doesn't know about your rebellion already?" the Fireborn questioned.
"Information is a powerful thing." Itros tore a chunk out of the bread. "I get patrons that come to the Defiant Moon Tavern looking only for gossip and rumours, and Silas is no different. I selected personally what he would hear, either from myself or the members of our rebellion."
"Is he a regular at the tavern?" The last thing Morana could imagine was him leaving his office to order one of Itros' drinks, for him to slide into a bar seat and haggle for knowledge. That wasn't her boss' style.
"Not in the main tavern, no. He knows he would be beaten to a pulp in minutes if he dared to show his face in there. Silas has just as many wanted posters as you do." Itros paused to finish his mouthful. "We talk privately over food, in these exact seats, even."
"Does he hold information over you too?" Damian let go of his sword and rested his hand beside his plate.
The bartender tilted his head from side to side, debating which answer to give. "Yes, he does."
Morana felt her eyes widen. The last person that she expected to work for Silas was Itros.
The horned man worked for all sides — at least, that was what she had thought.
He helped every group that wandered into his tavern — the many underlords squabbling for control, travellers passing through, even guards sent from the castle.
Yet Silas had his chains wrapped around him.
Lillith broke the newfound silence by dropping a heavy pouch onto the table. "A peace offering." She gestured for the necromancer to open it, watching with amusement in her eyes. Their savage glow had faded now that the blood in her glass was gone.
She tugged the drawstrings apart to find it was filled with new bone shards.
Her magic reached out on instinct and lifted a few into the air, squeals of excitement rushing through her limbs.
The crystal of her necklace reached towards the bone, glowing purple in glee.
She could end their lives in an instant with her weapons back, or at least pin Lillith down long enough to find a stake to drive into her heart.
If there was one thing a Vampire couldn't outrun with their untamed speed, it was her bone shards.
And she was merely handing her to them, giving her the weapons to put an end to the convincing if she really wanted to.
The shards fell back into the pouch. "Where did you get these from?"
"Your butcher friend in the Wandering Market."
Of course, these were from Larsa. Only the best quality cuts came from her.
Morana grabbed a handful of shards and began placing them around her body.
Several found their way into her boots, a few got tucked into the waistband of her trousers, some were put up her sleeves to rest in the crooks of her elbows, and the final few were dropped into her cleavage.
The pouch was then sealed and attached to her belt where it belonged.
The assassin turned to Damian in silent question. Were they going to trust them? Either way, they would be working against Silas. It was only a matter of figuring out if they could trust the rebellion they spoke of. The Fireborn's throat bobbed, but he nodded.
"We need a way to distract Silas and get him out of his office for a while. For reasons. If you can help us with that, we might trust you," she proposed.
"How long are we talking?" Itros asked.
"An hour or two. Maybe three if you could really push it." The longer they could get, the better. Not only did they need to find the Necromancer's Tome, but they needed to open it and decipher it somehow.
"I might have something that will do the trick. It's back at my shop, though. We'd need to go and get it," Lillith offered.
"And walk into a trap where you have people waiting to take us back to Silas? Yeah, no chance."
"Do you think I would arm you if I wanted to drag you down, Mor? Gods, I would have tied you both up in the room upstairs if that was the case. I hate conversations like this and you know that."
Morana scowled. She was right. Though, what if it was to lay a blanket of security down? One that resided over a hole for them to fall through.
She met Damian's eyes, finding comfort in the warmth the embers gave. "It's your call. I think we can trust them, but I'll follow you wherever you go, bone girl."
"We'll pay Blood and Bottles a visit then."
Painted in a washed mahogany was a sign that read 'Blood and Bottles'.
Chipped beneath it was another line warning'Drink at Your Own Risk'.
It swung above the door in the early morning breeze, the first trickles of sunlight climbing over the horizon signalling dawn was on its way.
The oncoming threat made Lillith fish for her keys quicker, otherwise, her body would burn to a crisp.
As she unlocked the doors and ushered them inside, Morana grabbed a fistful of bone shards, ready to guide them into the hearts of unsuspecting visitors. However, it was empty like the Vampire promised.
Shelves upon shelves lined the small area, creating a natural path to the counter that resided at the back.
They passed a bin filled with unlabelled bottles before heading further inside.
Each shelf was filled with several curiosities — potions for every occasion, blood vials, even books of fables and folklore rested on the higher ledges.
One that had a dragon and a king on the front cover caught her eye, her temporary distraction torn away as they reached the end of the shop.
"Wait here. What I need is out in the back," Lillith explained.
"Okay. Tell anyone you might bring out that they're going to get very acquainted with their own insides," the necromancer warned.
The Vampire only rolled her eyes and headed through the curtain of beads behind her.
While they waited, Morana ran her fingers along the spines of the books.
They weren't just fictional stories that you could pick up and lose yourself in, these were books banned from being sold in Wyrith.
Grimoires with spells crammed into every page, brewing guides for mysterious potions and concoctions, and an index of creatures extinct from the world were a few to be named.
"Are these all blood?" Damian questioned as he peered at a shelf of vials.
Each one had a label wrapped around it to denote which creature the blood had come from.
Larger ones held the thick crimson liquid that was easy to get — Humans, Trolls, and Sirens alike.
Yet smaller ones contained blood from rare creatures.
"Of course. Do you think this place is called Blood and Bottles because I sell books?" Lillith returned with a pink bottle in hand. She placed it on the counter for them to inspect. "Don't worry. I've told this potion all about how its guts will explode everywhere."
It was Morana's turn to roll her eyes. The bottle was cool to the touch, the glass itself detailed with small pointed marks. Clear liquid rolled inside, she could tell that much even with the pink staining surrounding it.
"What does it do?" Damian examined the potion and placed it back on the counter.
"Nothing yet." Lillith crouched down and pulled out a brown paper wallet that was sectioned off into small compartments.
Each one held various strands of hair and the Vampire headed straight to one which was home to a long, purple one.
She pulled out the glass stopper from the bottle and placed it inside.
"Hey! That was my hair!"
"You wanted my help, so I'm giving it to you.
" Next, she turned to a section with shorter hairs and opened a compartment that only contained two, adding it to the liquid.
After putting the wallet away, Lillith retrieved a tub of sand and sprinkled a pinch inside.
To complete the potion, she pierced her finger with one of her fangs and trickled three drops of blood into it.
Swirling it all together, it faded from a blood red to a pink similar to the shade of the glass.
She switched the stopper to an atomiser and pushed it back towards them.
"It's an illusion, something to trick Silas' mind.
I can report some information to him and spray this when I do so.
It will distract him, driving him insane thinking he knows you're at the shore of the Lost Abyss.
He'll hopefully be so consumed with that thought that he'll go and seek you.
The beach is far enough away that it will give you an hour or two. "
"But it will be daytime soon," the Fireborn pointed out.
"We'll have to take the underground tunnels he had built for him," Morana thought aloud.
Lillith nodded. "That's how I get around in the day."
"And you're sure this potion perfume will work?"
"I've only made it once before, but it worked okay", the Vampire confessed. "I hope you get whatever you need. After that, I hope you can help the rebellion."
"What does the rebellion need?" the assassin squinted.
"Mostly, for you to be on our side. One less foe is one less battle to plan for."
"Say, there is one more thing that you could do to help secure my loyalty," Morana started with a sly smile.
Lillith's eyes narrowed. "What is it?"
"It's just information. You wouldn't happen to know anything about a creature that is completely made of shadow, would you?
Something that one person might be able to see, yet another person can't." It wasn't the first time a shadow had tormented her.
First, it was on the night she had killed her mother and then it was on the clifftop with Damian.
She wanted to avoid it at all costs if she could.
"That sounds like dark magic to me. It's not a creature of any kind.
Shadow forms are either residue of a really strong spell, meaning they'll take the form of their caster.
Or, someone is using it as a way to see the world as a spy.
That's all I know about it without more information.
" The Vampire leaned forward, waiting for her to share more details, but Morana couldn't.
The only dark spell that could have that strength without being shut down by the royal family was the Necromancer's Curse. Morana already knew it was related to that, though. She could feel her own magic in the shadows already. But was it only residue? Or was it watching her every move?
"That's all I need. Thanks."
"I can't have customers thinking I'm open on my day off. Let's get to the tunnels before daybreak."