32. Kiera
Chapter 32
Kiera
I don’t recall a time when my feet moved with such swiftness. Now, I’m running with a near impossible speed as I race away from the Academy wall and down towards the city of Riviere. Even with my anger at Regis for what he’d done—how he had betrayed me—I don’t want him hurt or dead.
Regis’ crow flies overhead, the creature’s black wings nearly eclipsed by the darkness of the night as I’m followed by two silent figures. Kalix and Ruen. They run with me, quiet and fast. The tingle of Ruen’s power threads an illusion over all of us, hiding us from the view of those who guard the walls of the Academy.
That power calls to my own, reminding me of what had happened in the arena merely days before. The long dark tunnel that had obscured my ability to see. I still have no clue what it was other than my own power needing an outlet. At least, I hope that’s all it was.
We make quick work of the distance between the Academy and Riviere, reaching the city’s edge in far less time than it’s ever taken me. When I slow towards the first street, I find myself breathing evenly as if I’m not even winded. Ruen’s hand comes up to cup my shoulder.
“With the brimstone out, you likely have more stamina than before,” he says as if he can read my mind. “Your body is already working to catch up with your new abilities.”
I open my mouth to reply, but Regis’ crow chooses that moment to caw down at us. Jerking my gaze to the sky, I watch as the animal flaps its wings and circles us before heading off down the street. Sliding out from under Ruen’s hold, I trail the creature. The Darkhavens fall into step behind me, never wavering, and never dropping back.
Regis’ crow leads us through the streets of Riviere in the dark, but not towards the place I’m used to going. We pass the coffeehouse that Ruen had taken me to the day he’d found out my secret. I barely offer it a passing glance as the crow turns a corner, its beady eyes looking back over its wing as if to make sure we’re still on its tail. It’s heading away from the shop, not towards it.
I follow regardless even as we enter a section of the city I don’t recognize. The townhomes are closer together than even those near Madam Brione’s shop. I thought that it had been the slums of Riviere, but I soon realize that it was merely a run-down section, not the slums themselves. Because the part of Riviere that Regis’ crow is flying towards is in far worse condition.
Cracked windows full of darkness. Dust and dirt and grime on every doorstep. Some houses have doorways completely open to the elements with nothing but dirty sheets to block intruders. I slow my steps, and behind me, so do Ruen and Kalix. They don’t say anything as the crow slows above an intersection.
“I thought we were going to the shop,” Kalix says, his voice a careful whisper.
I shake my head. “We’re following the bird,” I reply. “It’s leading us to Regis.” I hope.
Wind beats against my face as the crow lowers itself and then lands on my shoulder. I stare at the creature, but it’s not looking at me. Instead, its eyes are scanning our surroundings. Its beak twists this way and then the opposite way.
“Do you think it’s lost the trail?” Ruen asks.
“Just give it a moment,” I tell him.
As we wait for the animal to come to some sort of decision, I take the opportunity to glance around the street. The roads here are even smaller than that near Madam Brione’s shops, hardly wide enough for the three of us to stand shoulder to shoulder and certainly not big enough for any carriage. There are broken objects littering the stones beneath our feet, cracked pieces of furniture left to bleach in the daytime sun, and rancid food in garbage cans where several glowing eyes of vermin peer out toward us. A shudder works through me. Regis hated the dirt in Madam Brione’s shop. I can’t imagine him here where filth is caked into each corner and crevice.
The crow on my shoulder spreads its wings, feathers drifting over my cheek as it takes flight. “Come on,” I say, though I don’t need to. Kalix and Ruen are already moving with me.
Regis’ crow flies further up the street, the dilapidated townhouses turning into wooden shacks stacked on top of one another, each in worse disrepair than the last. Then the animal takes a sharp left turn down an alley.
Ruen curses and reaches out to grab my arm, pulling me to a halt when I would follow after the creature. “Wait. We can’t all fit down there.”
“I have to?—”
“Let me go first,” Ruen insists, stopping my argument before it can begin.
“But—”
Ruen doesn’t wait for me to finish what I’m about to say. He lifts his head and nods to where Kalix stands behind me. Hard hands grip my shoulders, keeping me in place. A snarl rips past my lips as Ruen turns and disappears into the darkness.
“ Release me .” I hiss out the command, but Kalix merely chuckles and tugs me against him, my back to his front. Something hard presses against my ass. I snap my head around and gape up at him. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
Kalix merely shrugs. “Blame yourself, little liar,” he replies. “You’re irresistible when you’re feeling violent.”
I flip him off and then turn to face the opening of the alleyway again. Seconds pass and then minutes. The longer we go without any hint or sign of either Regis or Ruen, the more my body tenses as if preparing for something horrible to come walking out of the darkness at any moment.
My eyes flick back and forth, up and down the street. There are no lamps here—not even burned-out ones, just … none at all. As if this place is a part of the city that’s long been forgotten by all. Metal crashing onto stone makes me jump, but Kalix remains perfectly still at my back.
“It’s just the rats,” he tells me.
I glance over my shoulder to be sure, but he’s right. One of the trash cans overflowing against one of the shacks has been tipped over and several of the rodents that had been making meals of the insides pour out and disappear into the shadows. Disgust rolls through me. Regis would not be fine here. If he is in this place then he must be either dead or dying. The smell of urine and decay invades my nostrils like a foreshadowing of impending doom. I wrinkle my nose against it.
Kalix’s fingers squeeze tight around my upper arms, dragging my attention back to the alley as he speaks. “Ruen’s returning.”
My breath catches when I see him—a figure darker than the shadows as it steps out of the gloom beyond. In the next second, my eyes fall to the man he’s holding in his arms. Regis’ face is pale and bloodless. There are dark purple bruises beneath his eyes and a black stain over the side of his throat. No, not black, I realize as they draw nearer. Dark red. It’s dried blood.
“He’s badly wounded,” Ruen states, stopping in front of us. “If we want Maeryn to see to him, we need to get him back to the Academy fast.”
As Ruen grows closer, I reach up, shaking off Kalix’s hold. Brushing one of Regis’ dirty blond dreads to the side, I bite down on my lower lip at how cold he is.
“Are you sure he’s still…” I don’t want to say it, but from how he looks…
“He’s still alive,” Ruen assures me, “but he won’t be for much longer if we don’t get him help.”
I nod and step back to allow Ruen to take the lead this time as we retrace our steps back to the Academy.
Candlelight flickers over the hollows of Regis’ face a few hours later as Maeryn bends over him, running her hands up and down his chest. My face blanches at how he smells just like the place where we found him. Like death.
“Can you help him?” I ask her.
Maeryn doesn’t answer for a long moment, her power spreading in a thin layer of whitish gold over his body as she works. When it sinks into Regis and she blows out a long breath, I know she’s found her answer.
“I can,” she says over her shoulder, “but he’ll need time and rest to fully recover.”
“What if…” I take a step forward. “What if I were to give him some of my blood?”
Maeryn’s hands pull back and she turns to gape at me. “Kiera, that’s not something you should offer.”
“It will help him heal faster,” I press.
“Yes, but it’s illegal.”
I stare at her. “Half of the things we’ve done over the past few months are illegal,” I remind her. “This hardly seems like the time to pick which crimes I’m willing to take part in. It’s not even the worst one.”
Her lips press together as if she doesn’t want to admit that I’m right.
A hand locks on my shoulder. “Why don’t you let her do what she can first,” Ruen suggests. “If she decides he needs it, then we can give him some Divine blood to speed up the healing process.”
My gaze moves back to Regis, still and so damn pale that I wonder how the hell she can do anything when he looks like he’s already knocking on death’s door. I grit my teeth and jerk my chin in a nod of understanding.
“Fine,” I concede, “but if he’s not at least somewhat improved within the next day or so, then I’m doing it anyway.”
Maeryn shakes her head but doesn’t argue as she turns back to her patient. Regis’ crow sits perched on the back of the couch, watching his master and the red-headed Mortal God that pushes more of her healing into him. My shoulders droop. Maybe if I’d been born with an ability like hers, I wouldn’t have become what I am. Useless unless it’s to kill someone.
Ruen removes his hand from my shoulder and steps back. His presence doesn’t leave though. Not right away. As the night draws on, the minutes stretching into hours, only when the early light of dawn begins to stretch its long fingers across the sky outside the window does he retreat to his bedroom. Kalix does as well, leaving Maeryn, Regis, Theos, and me alone in the main area as we wait for some sign from Regis that he’ll pull through.
When birds begin to chirp outside, Theos moves to my side. Without saying a word, his arms come around me and he unbuckles the strap at my throat. My cloak loosens around my shoulders and he catches it before taking it away and returning a few seconds later.
“Come on, Dea ,” he says, wrapping a strong arm around my waist as he pulls me into his warm side.
I’m so cold. Frosted over with the knowledge that Regis could be dying and I’ve spent the last weeks hating him. I’ve burned every note he’s tried to send and only by some twist of fate did I manage to stop myself from burning the last one. He knows I’m angry at him. He knows I hate him for what he did.
Yet, still, in what could be his last moments, he sent me a note trying to warn me of danger.
Does that make what he did okay? No.
But does that make him my friend still?
I don’t know, and yet, I’m the only one who can answer that question.
When Theos tugs at me again, turning me away from where Maeryn still bends over Regis’ still body, sweat coating her brow as she works at him with her healing, I go. My footsteps stumble as we move away from the couch and Theos doesn’t stop to right me. He simply reaches down and plucks me off the ground, hauling me into his arms and against his chest.
Theos carries me into his room, kicking the door closed behind us. He doesn’t stop until he’s at the bed, lowering me onto the mattress with careful kindness. I close my eyes when they begin to burn, but remain awake enough to know he’s unbuckling the daggers strapped to my thighs and removing the weapons. Then he’s tugging my boots off. Firm fingers touch the laces of my pants next, undoing them before they, too, are being dragged off me.
My body is lifted back into his arms and with somehow practiced movements, Theos holds me to him as he pulls back the blankets on the bed and places me against the pillows. I listen to the sound of him moving away from the bed, his footsteps tip-toeing around the room.
After a while, the covers are pulled back on the other side of the mattress, and a hot male body slides beneath them. Theos’ scent moves over me, into me. The smell of rum and spice is hot and soothing despite the burning in my eyes that has yet to let up. My lower lip trembles and I bite down on it to stop the tick. Arms move around me, drawing me against a naked chest. Lips touch my hair, pressing a kiss I don’t deserve to my head, and it’s too much. It’s all too much.
Before I give in to the oblivion of sleep, the last thing I feel is the tears building against the back of my eyelids give way, streaking down my cheeks in the darkness of Theos’ room.
If Regis dies, it won’t be anyone else’s fault but my own.