38. The Fae Life for Me #2
“Simple. How do you feel about Nerezza?” she says and lasers in on my face, completely ignoring the fact that Reaper is staring at her with a sneer. She’s not going to see any reaction though, especially the one that she’s hoping for, good or bad.
Just hearing Nerezza’s name sends flares of pain through my chest that I contain, but just barely.
That’s the Robot for you. Having years of experience in schooling my face to not show any emotions has its benefits.
But I can’t help but wonder what I’m losing in the process.
What memory did I just lose? Isn’t that what Murmur said would eventfully happen from the shit Emer gave me?
Soon enough, Emer will be the only one in my heart and soul.
The scariest part of all of this is the fact that I’m not completely opposed to it right now.
For all I know, it’s working. I know memories have slowly disappeared, and I don’t have the same feelings I did in the past for Rez, even though the pain is still there. So, I tell Emer the truth.
“I’m not going to lie, Emer. Since you’ve given me the potion, any thought, look, or mention of her brings pain, so I try not to think of her. Simple as that. So, can we not talk about her?” I arch an eyebrow in question, and Emer beams, obviously ecstatic with my answer.
“Of course.” She gets onto her knees, moving closer to me on the sofa, and immediately goes for my hand, trying to hold it.
“What’s your end game?” I ask, allowing her to hold my hand. I’m not disgusted by it like I normally would be, and I know that should bother me for some reason, but it escapes me for now.
“I’ve told you before, Leviathan. We are meant to be together,” she tells me softly. She flips the loose pink curl off her brow and bats her eyes at me. “Let me put it this way. From my point of view, it looks like Nerezza is with more than one of your brothers.”
I nod, clenching my jaw at the sharp pain in my chest from hearing her name once again.
I can’t deny it, but it’s been pretty obvious that they are all together.
Did I really take myself out of that equation?
We weren’t hiding the fact that we were all vying for her attention before we disappeared to Hell.
“So, what is the difference between her being with all of them and what I did when we were together?” she genuinely asks.
I’m momentarily confused. Did she get hit in the head in the year and a half we’ve been gone? I swear I’ve gone over this with her before, and yet, here I am, having to explain again.
“We were exclusive when you started hitting on my brothers and trying to add them to your harem, if my memory serves me right,” I put it simply as I release her hand.
“Oh, that’s just silly, Levi. You can forgive me for not wanting to break up a family before talking to you. Besides, you were sleeping at the time, and he was right there; I didn’t want the opportunity to pass,” she says, entwining our fingers together once again.
This isn’t where I thought we were going with this conversation, and it’s getting out of hand.
If this continues, I’m going to have a full-blown headache from all the back and forth I’m feeling due to this potion’s work.
I need a moment to myself, pulling my hand free, and I look around the room once again.
“Do you mind if I get cleaned up? Hell was not the friendliest place,” I explain, betting she didn’t see that I was showcasing my STFU look.
“Sure. Then do you think you might be up for seeing my favorite garden and the rest of the castle? Father is gifting it to us once we complete the Gauntlet,” she says, standing up and fixing her hair. She sticks out her hand with a smile.
“Of course,” I agree, taking her hand and tucking it against my body. “Your father exceeds the definition of generosity; the offer of Thornbark Castle is attestation of that.
Why do I get the crazy people in my life? Who donates a castle just for finishing a test? Shouldn’t gaining the ability to travel to Earth be good enough? Hell, how about surviving?
As Emer walks me out of the room and into an impressive hallway, Reaper quickly wobbles behind me, dragging his leash between his legs by his mouth.
Compared to other impressive high-profile residences, like Lucifer’s and my mother’s house, this one is sparsely decorated, with only three landscape pictures up on the walls, and there are five doors total in the hallway.
“The bathroom is the last door on the left. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.” She points to the last door and smiles at me, before giving Reaper a wide berth as he follows me.
“Thanks,” I hum. We walk into the bathroom, and I immediately lock the door, leaning against it as I throw out a spell to enforce the lock and a cloaking spell so no one can eavesdrop on me.
The room is pretty decently furnished and about the size of ours back in the dorm, with a garden tub, a walk-in shower, a double vanity, and a water closet for the toilet.
Still unimpressed with it all, I walk over to the sink and splash cold water onto my face.
How in the hell did I wind up in this mess? Where is my family? If I asked Emer, would she tell me? Would she even know? Am I stuck finishing the Gauntlet with her and her stooges?
A sharp stab in my chest pulls me out of my inner turmoil. I really should check this sore and apply more salve. Carefully taking off my corset, I pull back the bandage I placed and gag at the smell. Reaper whines, and I meet his eyes in the mirror.
“Yeah, buddy. I know, and I’m sorry it smells. I’ll clean it, but let’s get you situated first.” I pull his leash from underneath him, attach it, and give him a few pats before returning to the bathroom counter.
Festering rot is the best way to describe the pulsing ichor that sits above my heart.
I pull out cleaning supplies from my S.I.N.
box and start scrubbing at my wound the best I can, but even with me meticulously cleaning off Hell’s remnants, I don’t feel any cleaner.
I feel as if I’m tainted, as though my soul is dirtier somehow.
Watching the edges of the wound silently move as if it’s breathing, I wonder how much this evil will change me and how, if anything, I will cure myself of this.
Reapplying the salve Dr. Steinbeck gave me doesn’t alleviate the pain.
It only makes it redder and more irritated, causing me to wince.
Emer said I would feel this pain until Rez was out of my system and truly hers, but in what way did she mean?
Physically? Mentally? Emotionally? That could never happen.
What Rez and I have is deeper than me just picking her over Emer.
Our magic has accepted each other, and apparently, we’re even bonded deeper into an old prophecy, according to Mother.
But then again, I am losing memories of us, of our time. Maybe there is something to what Emer said. Maybe her potion is somehow stronger than my Horseman.
“Gah!” I scream and hit the mirror, shattering it. As pieces slowly break off and fall to the counter surface, I can’t help but see the resemblance to my tattered soul and the hope I have left. Maybe I’m not strong enough.
As thoughts of my Horseman cross my mind, movement catches my eye in the shattered remnants of the mirror—the tattoo on my left hip flares with heat.
Red flames swirl around Famine’s robe as he effortlessly remains on his black stallion while it rears up on its hind legs on my skin.
The golden scales of justice, the simple, plain design, shift back and forth in Famine’s hand as his cloak flutters around his head.
Glowing hazel eyes meet mine in what’s left of the mirror as thoughts gently probe my shield.
Famine nods in answer to my silent question of whether it’s him trying to reach me, and I drop my shield.
‘I find your soul innocent but tainted with poison. What has happened?’ a deep, wispy voice rings out inside my head.
If I hadn’t gone through Hell and the Road of Worth or learned what I have recently with Ryker’s Horseman talking to him, I would be in shock that my tattoo is talking to me.
But thankfully, being mated to Rez, my brothers being outed as the new Horsemen, knowing a DoorKnight has become a real man, and meeting a Storm Shifter with whom I’m in good graces has prepared me pretty well for this moment.
‘I took a drink willingly to find out what poison was given to Rez, and the side effects are somewhat brutal,’ I admit, hating the fact that I did this to myself, but knowing I would do it again to give her whatever information she needs.
‘Ah, sacrifice for love. I see,’ he tells me, his eyes glued on me even as I track his scales as they shift to the right and glow brighter. ‘An honest and true quality worthy of a sacrifice,’ he chuckles, a dark hollow echo, before continuing. ‘Here is your first lesson on recycling the Earth.’
‘What do you mean by recycling the Earth? What does that have to do with anything?’