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Europe is gone. There is no need to continue including it in our maps.
DAEMON Internal Memo–recovered dNet archive
“Hiraeth?” the beast above me is speaking, but it feels like a rumble through my chest.
“How do I know it’s you?” I hiss, and even with the creature’s lupine features, it still looks confused.
“What are you talking about?” Azazel appears beside me.
I try to move, but the wolf-bat’s claws are impossibly strong.
Fine.
The shadows manifest around me, and I slip through the claws and flop from the nearest shady spot, landing roughly on my face.
Apparently, the effort alone is too much and I wretch out again. The dirt splatters with watery bile.
There’s a few shouts, and I vaguely hear someone screaming about murdered councilors before footsteps approach at speed.
“Get us a path out of here,” Cass’ voice is normal now, but I can’t lift my head to check.
It has to be her, right?
“Prove it to me—” I spit a wad of something red into the dirt. My lungs are definitely fucked. “Prove to me you’re her.”
Her lips are beside my ear and her breath tickles at my canal. “I made you come all over my fingers last night.”
Instead of what would normally have been arousal, only relief and something far stronger surge through me.
“Oh, thank God,” I let out, not caring that it sounds pathetic and watery. “Thank God.”
She helps me to my feet, and I feel the world tilt on its axis. Her arm comes around my waist, and I lean heavily against her. She smells spicy and warm.
My head lolls, and I see the way everyone stares at us. Their eyes flit to Azazel who leads our small group then to Cass. And then to me.
“I can walk on my own,” I whisper, trying to pull away. “A God Queen wouldn’t carry her subject.”
Cass doesn’t loosen her grip, and I think another shadow portal, even out of spite, might put me out for another week.
“I do not care what they think,” she says, voice tight with worry and a hint of annoyance. “Anyone who dares to use you against me will likely meet their end at your hands.”
I nod and flop my head down on her shoulder, breathing her in. Her perfect, intoxicating presence.
“Why did you run?” she asks, and the question feels so similar to the Gareth version.
“Please, just—” I feel tears again and lips press against my temple. Her lips.
The ground gets difficult to walk on. Lights flash and the world desaturates.
Suddenly, there’s softness beneath me. A seat.
My vision blurs and it’s difficult to tell, but I think there’s running water.
“Come on,” a voice says, sounding tired. She sounds tired.
My joggers come off easily, I think. I try to help, but I’m not sure why my legs aren’t working.
Nor why my eyes won’t open fully.
“Hey,” the voice says again and I feel cool hands press against my face.
Cass’ lovely orange eyes swim into view. Then her lips and teeth. Her nose.
“What—” I whisper and she presses her delicate finger to my mouth.
“I am going to strip you. Please do not think for a moment that this is how I wanted this first time to go.”
I nod, not sure what she means.
She tugs at the front of my shirt, the material ripping easily with her insane strength.
I glance down at my bare chest, only covered by a bra I’d thrown on maybe yesterday. Or today. I don’t know.
“Trust me?” Cass asks, and I meet her gaze again. She looks flushed, but her eyes don’t stray.
“With my life,” I whisper, giving her a weak smile. “And my heart.”
Her lips split into a wide grin before pulling me up and forward, bracing my hands on her shoulders.
“There is a seat in the shower,” she says, fingers deftly unlatching the clasp.
I nod and she lets the garment drop.
“Brace yourself on the chair,” she says, eyes never leaving mine.
I nod again and do as she asks.
She kneels. She kneels and if I weren’t drenched in my own puke, sweat, and blood, I’d probably be soaking wet at the sight of her.
“Step out of these for me,” she says, voice almost reverent. Like she understands the gravity of what’s happening as well.
I do so and she slides my panties down my thighs and off my ankles.
Her hands trace up my thighs, then my hips. And finally, to my torso as she takes my weight again.
“Turn and step into the shower,” she says, and I realize belatedly that we’re already in a bathroom.
Except it isn’t the ensuite in her apartment.
“Where are we?” I ask, letting her guide me over the lip of an enormous shower with four waterfall heads.
“I have a lot to explain, but please let me take care of you,” she says, and I sit roughly onto the chair that is, indeed, in her shower.
I only nod and turn a little, letting the world stop spinning. Letting the water wash away the gross film over my body.
And then I see her.
“Oh,” I whisper as I watch Cassandra Alta strip her shirt off.
And then her pants.
And then her underwear.
“Oh my God,” I groan and not even a gut punch from Darkrend himself could stop me from worshipping the naked body that joins me in the hot water.
She’s perfect. Literally picturesque. Breasts that could fit perfectly in my palm, if I reached out and—
Cass’ eyes meet mine, and a small curve forms at her lips.
“You can touch me,” she whispers, again kneeling in front of me, moving between my legs.
She begins to scrub at my skin with a sponge I hadn’t seen her grab. Instead of watching her work, I let my hands wander down her face. My thumb grazes her lower lip, and she spares me a heavily lidded glance before returning her attention to my torso.
“You took a beating,” she says, voice more concerned than I would like.
My hands come down her neck, pausing as I feel the pulse thrum beneath my fingertips. It’s slower than I would have expected.
“I don’t know what he was,” my voice barely a whisper, “but he hit harder than Darkrend.”
Her gaze snaps to mine, but I let my hands move further south.
She lets out a gasp as my thumbs run along her pink nipples. The skin pimples with gooseflesh and I want so badly to kiss them. To lavish them.
Except if I lean forward I’ll probably fall over.
“What happened to me in the grotto?” I ask, still running my hands along the skin I can reach. I run my fingers along her neck, pressing at the base of her head.
The scrubbing along my thighs pauses as Cass’ face falls.
“I am so sorry,” she says, uncharacteristic shame on her gorgeous features. “I should have—”
She lets out a shuddering breath and her fingers grip at my thigh. Like she wants to make sure I’m still here.
“I should have taken you to safety. Immediately. But I was worried about the others. I was too preoccupied with the politics.”
I don’t say anything. Mostly because I’m still hurt that she let me suffer while she argued with Gareth about how much “use” I’d be.
Cass presses her lips to one thigh. Then the other. I let out a soft gasp as her teeth nip lightly at the flesh.
“I no longer care about the politics,” she says before licking at the skin of my inner thigh.
My brain stutters as she continues to pepper kisses down my legs.
“I need you to start being honest with me,” I finally say, and she raises her head. “About everything.”
She doesn’t hide the nervousness well. Or maybe she’s more vulnerable with me.
It’s hard to tell.
“What did the Seer do to me?” I ask softly, the words barely audible over the patter of the shower.
“He should not have done anything. His only abilities are future sight,” she sounds devastated. Like it had been her fault. “I will have him executed for—”
“No,” I say quickly, stopping her hands mid scrub along a gnarly amount of blood on my side. “I don’t know that it was entirely his fault.”
She studies me for a moment before nodding.
“You collapsed after he read off the new line,” Cass says, fingers tracing a pattern along my thighs.
God, she feels good.
“He said more than one thing, though,” I say, frowning.
“Besides the ‘time immortal’ line?”
I nod, trying to remember through the haze. “Grim the night has become; it’s time for the final reckoning.”
“Shit, that’s ominous,” Cass huffs out, and I can’t help but grin at her goofiness.
She scrubs at the last bit of grime on my ribs, the pain much less now.
“How much of the Prophecy do we know?” I ask, and she pauses for a beat before squeezing my thigh lightly.
“Two lines. The first one was the impetus for finding you. The second was the one you heard today.”
“I saw things that don’t make sense,” my throat feels raw, lips dry. The entire experience feels like someone else’s fever dream.
Cass only watches me, clearly not in a hurry to press. Not even looking impatient for what I imagine is vital information.
I could fall for this woman so easily.
Maybe I already have.
“Gareth said something about rifts,” I start, her eyes never leave mine. “He said as much again later, but I think he meant the things I saw.”
I let out a slow breath, unsure how to explain.
“It was like seeing into the fabric the universe,” I say hesitantly. “A few hours ago, I wouldn’t even have known that was an option—but that’s what it was. It was something beyond here.”
“Have you done it before?” she asks, and I consider the question.
Because I had.
“The spirits,” I say, realizing the gravity of it. “I’d gotten them to stop tormenting me by pushing them where they’d wanted to go. It was like removing the dam to a rushing river. Like they’d known the place, but I was the one who had to lead them.”
“And this place was…?” she prompts softly, hands massaging my hips.
“You’re not going to—”
“I will always believe you,” Cass whispers.
I am definitely in love with her.
“I pushed them to the ever after,” I say, bowing my head. “Or whatever comes next. They leave a hint of their essence with me and that’s what I use in battle.”
Cass’ eyes seem to glow a little in the haze of the shower steam. Even though she’s entirely naked and I could be ogling every part of her, it’s her eyes that have me stunned.
“You are magnificent,” she whispers, studying me with a fervor that makes me feel stripped more than I already am. “Everything I have ever dream of and more. I am so lucky.”
My jaw works wordlessly as she rises slowly. My fingers have pruned and the sponge was abandoned minutes ago. But she still moves into my lap, straddling my thighs.
“Why did you run?” she whispers mouth almost on mine. I feel her fully against me and it’s like heaven.
Her breasts press against mine and she heaves out a sigh like this is what she needed, too.
“Because you were talking about me like I was an experiment,” I say, still staring up at her. Into orange eyes that are so damned expressive.
She presses her forehead to mine, and I don’t think we could get any closer.
“I am so sorry,” she whispers, squeezing me tightly. “I will make it up to you.”
I shake my head a little, huffing out a short laugh.
“I don’t need you to make it up to me, Cass. I just need you to tell me what’s going on. I’m fine to play the part if you tell me it is a part. Not leaving me wondering if everything was a facade”
She presses her lips to my forehead, then the side of my face. Then her lips find mine. I let out a soft groan as her hips seem to move on their own.
“What happened with Gareth?” she asks, finally leaning back enough to meet my eyes.
I lick my lips and taste the spiciness she seems to always smell of.
“I went to Marla’s bar. I was a bit rattled and confused. And, frankly, still a little pissed,” I say, and she presses a kiss to my temple. “He came into the bar. And Cass, it felt like you. It felt like your presence. Your power. He sounded like you. He looked like you.”
It made no sense. It shouldn’t be possible.
“What do you mean my presence?” she asks, cocking her head a little.
“You just,” I shrug a little, her weight against me feeling more and more relaxing, “feel different. I can feel you in a room. I could even before us.”
“And Gareth did?”
“Before he turned into this strange creature. It was like the hind end of a dog with a torso three times the width. He could teleport and it wasn’t normal teleportation. It was like the same way I do it. Like he could step into reality and move through it rather than over it.”
“We saw the creature,” she says softly. “Right before he exploded.”
“Did you hear what he said?” I ask, finding her eyes again.
“No,” she says, thin eyebrows furrowing. “We just saw the aftermath of the fight.”
“He sounded like he was talking to someone. Someone only he could see. He’d called someone a king that had ordered him to kill me. And the king hadn’t been Darkrend, because I asked.”
“Disconcerting,” Cass says softly, eyes unfocusing like she does when she’s thinking.
“Varun pretty much confirmed it, too,” I say and Cass’ frown deepens.
“How?”
“I made him do head motions since he seems to be unable to speak. Though he said something really freaky right before I killed him.”
“He—” Cass blinks a few times. “He doesn’t have a tongue. He shouldn’t be able to speak.”
I shrug again. “He said ’In the light of the day, it is easier to believe the ghosts were simply figments of your imagination. These monsters, though, are real and they are boundless.’”
“That’s fucking weird,” Cass says, and I laugh out again.
“Yeah,” I lean into her.
Cass goes still before letting out a breath. “Did you Commune with him?”
I lean back to meet her eyes again, this time wondering if I should ask about the dhampirs. If it’s worth considering the words of a traitor.
“He confirmed that he didn’t know what Gareth was, that he wasn’t a Remnant, and that he probably worked for someone else.”
“That is all?” Cass asks, and I let out a slow breath.
“Is that not enough?” I ask. And the simplest flit of her eyes are enough to know that she knows there’s more.
“We knew Gareth von Kemp was a shapeshifter, but not like that. And certainly not whatever creature we saw.”
I nod and she presses herself against me tighter. Her lips meet my ear, and she kisses the lobe before huffing a little.
“Honesty is hard for me. I have never had someone to confide in, and I am not yet used to it.”
The water splashes down on us, and it feels like the rest of the world has disappeared. Just her against me. Just two people.
“Start by telling me whose shower this is,” I say, and Cass lets out a soft laugh.
“It is mine,” she says quietly. “This is my private home.”
“Where?” I ask, leaning back a little to look into her orange irises.
“In Europe.”