Chapter 28 Aurelie
Aurelie
Aurelie found Mephisto curled up on an ochre velvet pillow on her sofa when she returned to her lab, looking rather pitiful
and bedraggled. Fortunately, it perked up at her arrival, running to greet her with its funny, snakelike gait, legs akimbo,
mustache and eyebrows trailing behind it like minute streamers.
Breathing in the familiar scent of her lab—lavender and rosemary, old wood, the various tinctures and tonics she’d created—Aurelie
wished she could stay here forever. Wherever she ended up, she would miss sleeping on her forest-green sofa, the way the light
slanted through the single high window, how quiet it was in the basement. She would miss her books and her shabby rugs, her
solitude.
It was close to midnight, and Aurelie was simultaneously exhausted and restless. While the others had eaten the food Gareth
and Jasper scrounged up, she tried to convince Des, the last holdout, why they needed to keep all of this a secret from Commander
Yew. Why if they helped her finish the portal in the next few days, they’d all survive whatever punishment Commander Yew could
dream up, because there would be no more need for an Iron Guard at that point.
In the end, they’d agreed to continue the conversation tomorrow, because the guards were all expected to be present during morning roll call.
Aurelie had no idea if she’d done enough to save her uncle, but she now believed Everard that the veil was thinner than ever.
There was no other way to explain why the tenebra hadn’t been killed by two iron blades.
That, at least, had seemed to rattle Des.
She spent over an hour cleaning the mess the demon had left, sweeping up glass and salvaging whatever she could. She put a
wooden board in front of the shattered window to keep out as much draft as possible. Finally, she came to her last task. Aurelie
lit her stove, then unceremoniously dumped all of Mephisto’s seeds into the flames.
The demon watched with unblinking red eyes. If the seeds were eggs, did Mephisto know? Had it deliberately germinated one?
If so, why? It had never shown any proclivity for evil before. Could it even have known what its seeds would produce? It didn’t
try to stop her from destroying these ones, but there were more where they had come from. All she needed to do was feed Mephisto
a few more cockroaches.
She thought back to how the tenebra had circled her instead of killing her. She’d tried to reason with it, but unlike the somnia and the natia, it didn’t seem capable of communicating with her mentally. Still, it hadn’t wanted to hurt her, that much was clear.
Aurelie stripped out of her dress, which was bloodstained and reeked of Everard’s bedsheets. She wasn’t sure any amount of
washing could undo the damage, and she shoved it into the Load Lightener for now, where at least she wouldn’t have to smell
it.
Padding across the laboratory, she caught her reflection in her standing mirror and sighed.
Her shift hung loosely off her injured shoulder, revealing Everard’s bandage.
At least the wound had stopped bleeding, and any exhaustion she now felt was unrelated to demon venom.
But her hair was a mass of tangles and there were smears of blood on her arm.
She washed herself brusquely and changed into her last clean shift, though it was agony to raise her left arm higher than her shoulder.
Finally, she reached for her hairbrush and pulled it through the tangles, ready to succumb to the siren song of her sofa, when she heard a light knock on her door.
Aurelie was so startled she dropped the brush, which clattered on the wooden floorboards. There wasn’t anyone left on campus.
She’d seen the Iron Guard members leave. Kiara would never be out this late at night. And the only campus guard was dead.
A lump formed in her throat. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but she had the sudden horrible thought that Willoughby was on
the other side of that door, his intestines pooled at his feet, his eyes full of accusation and betrayal.
“Open up, Aurelie. It’s me,” Des called from the hallway.
Blood and bones, he still hadn’t given back her blasted key! “What are you doing here?” she replied, reaching for her robe.
Her shift was indecently short, and he’d seen more than enough of her earlier. The last thing she needed was one of Des’s
lectures, but she had a feeling that was exactly what he was here for.
When she opened the door, Des was leaning against the frame, looking as shattered as she felt. She knew she’d put him through
hell tonight. What she didn’t understand was why he wasn’t in bed, asleep. “I needed to speak to you.”
“I thought we agreed to continue the conversation in the morning,” she said as he shuffled past her, collapsing onto her sofa as she had done mere minutes ago. He was so large there was no room for her to sit down, so she perched on her desk chair, hoping this would be quick.
“This isn’t about Everard,” he said, glancing with half-hearted interest around the room. When he flinched and pushed himself
back against the sofa cushions, Aurelie’s gaze followed his to the corner.
The corner where Mephisto was nosing around in its empty bowl, searching for cockroach remnants. Would the dratted demon never
learn when to make itself scarce?
“It’s all right,” Aurelie said, stooping to pick up Mephisto, which snarled as she attempted to wrangle all its legs. “As
long as I feed it and don’t try to cage it, it’s perfectly harmless.”
Des looked horrified as she approached, almost as squeamish as the boy she’d had to “rescue” from a mouse in one of the classrooms
several months ago. “Keep it away from me.”
Aurelie couldn’t help the grin that quirked her lips as she dangled Mephisto in Des’s face. “Aw, come on. A big, strong almost–lieutenant
commander can’t possibly be afraid of a little demon.”
Des scowled at her, but she’d learned that he was more bark than bite. Even if he despised her for getting him into this mess,
she was confident he would never hurt her. Not after saving her life twice.
“Oh, very well.” She set Mephisto down and it scuttled off through a crack in the wall. “Better?” she asked.
Des nodded stiffly, a faint blush staining his cheeks. She knew she shouldn’t embarrass him like this, not when she needed
him on her side, but it was so tempting. When he wasn’t being an insufferable ass, he was almost charming. Almost.
“If you’re finished fooling around, I have something serious to talk to you about.”
Aurelie returned to her desk and sat down, doing her best to look as solemn as Des.
“First off, I wanted to thank you for what you did earlier.”
She arched an eyebrow in question.
“I don’t think I could have killed that demon on my own.”
The compliment was so unexpected Aurelie could only blush and murmur, “You’re welcome.”
His mouth twitched in a half grin. “Someday you’ll have to explain how you learned to throw like that.”
“Of course. Just as soon as I come up with an answer.” Their eyes met for a moment, something unspoken passing between them.
His jaw was shadowed with stubble, his hair mussed, and there was something in his gaze that made her want to comfort him.
He looked lost, so young and yet so weary at the same time.
He blinked first, as though the prolonged eye contact was as difficult for him as it was for her.
“What did you want to tell me?” she asked.
“I had some free time earlier, so I went to the archives in the Iron Fortress to do some research.” He noticed her raised
eyebrows and scowled. “Yes, Aurelie, even clods like me can do research.”
“For the record, I don’t think you’re a clod,” she said. “I tend to get a little carried away with my words when I’m upset.”
“Go on. You can say it. You’re not the first person to tell me I’m stu—”
Aurelie rose again and stepped closer to Des. “I do not think that,” she said, more vehemently than she intended.
“No?”
She shook her head, reeling a bit. She told herself it was the whiskey, though it had been hours since she consumed it. “No. I’m not so sheltered and na?ve as to think there is only one kind of intelligence in this world, Des. Besides, there are plenty of clods at this institution.”
He stared at her for a minute, his expression inscrutable. “At any rate, I felt—what I said at the café, about being an orphan . . .”
She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine. I overreacted.”
“. . . it led me to look at the demon-related deaths from the year you were born.” He sighed and held out a piece of paper.
“I found this.”
The parchment was scrawled with handwritten names and dates. Aurelie skimmed it, wondering what could possibly interest her
about this, when her gaze snagged on the name Blake. It was written twice.
Once for each of her parents.
Dr. Claudine Blake; Dr. Liam Blake. Cause of death: verita attack.
Aurelie scanned the paper over and over, as if some other explanation would materialize. “I don’t understand,” she said finally.
“My parents died in a carriage accident. I was there.” True, she had been unconscious for much of it, but she would have remembered
a demon. Besides, Uncle Leo had confirmed it when he picked her up from the police station that evening. It was what everyone
had said at the funeral. A tragic accident. A broken harness, a frenzied horse. There was nothing anyone could have done.
“I don’t know for certain what happened,” Des said, his voice gentle in a way Aurelie wouldn’t have expected. “But my guess
is that your uncle didn’t want you to end up in the Iron Guard, so he bribed someone to let you stay with him. It’s happened
before.”
Aurelie tried to swallow down the tears clogging her throat, not wanting to cry in front of Des. He already thought the worst of her; what must he think now that he knew she’d dodged her duty to Wisteria? She handed the paper back to him, her hand trembling. “I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to say. I just wanted you to have all the information before you decide what to do next.”
“What to do next? From what you’re saying, my uncle has done far more for me than I could have ever imagined. I have to save
him, Des.”
Instead of responding, he ran his hands through his hair, which had grown long enough that he looked a little less like a
soldier. He had gone back to the barracks and changed into a tunic and breeches, though he still had his sword with him, and
Aurelie had the impression that no matter what Des did, even if they somehow managed to eradicate demons, he would always
be this way. He’d been a guard since he could walk. Perhaps he didn’t want anything else. “I just thought I should be the one to tell you. I thought you had a right to know the truth.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
He shrugged. “Who knows. Maybe you’ll decide to join the Iron Guard after all. You know more about demons than anyone I’ve
ever met.”
She winced, guilty as charged. “I’m hoping that won’t be an issue, once I complete the portal.”
Des’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. How can you trust that Everard is who he says he is? What if he’s lying to you?
He’s obviously using dark magic. He can make his house disappear at will. He has a thrall, for Aciano’s sake.”
“A thrall that could very well be his weakness. Everard said—”
“Another lie!”
Aurelie dropped her head into her hands. She couldn’t go over all this again. Not without a lot of sleep and even more coffee.
“I don’t know, Des. But he has my uncle, and the only way you’ll stop me from trying to save him is by locking me up. So if
that’s what you have to do . . .” She took another step toward him, holding her arms out in front of her. “Arrest me now.”
Des exhaled through his nostrils. “You know I’m not going to do that. I don’t even have the authority to do that.” He rose,
towering over her, reminding her once again how much bigger he was. “I should get back. It’s been a long day and tomorrow
will be no different.”
She planned to walk to the door and let him out, but her feet weren’t cooperating. She craned her neck to look up at him,
suddenly unsure if she even wanted him to go. Ever since her uncle left, Aurelie had been in a heightened state of awareness,
subconsciously vigilant for danger. But when Des was nearby, she could relax, if only a little. If there was any danger, he
would handle it.
She thought she hated how small she felt around him, but she wasn’t so sure now. Perhaps she felt a pull toward him not in
spite of his size, but because of it. He had the power to ruin her life, and yet she felt so safe with him. It made no sense.
In a laboratory experiment, she would never be able to duplicate these results. And yet here they were.
“Thank you,” she said again. “I know you didn’t want any of this, that I’ve made your life worse in innumerable ways. It was
never my intention.”
“So you’re unintentionally a huge pain in my ass? Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Aurelie glanced up to see that he was smiling down at her, and something about his kindness made tears well in her eyes. Tears she hadn’t even seen coming. Before she could murmur an apology, Des’s hand rose, tentatively.
“Hey,” he said, one calloused finger sliding against her cheek, catching her tears as they fell. “Don’t cry.”
“I didn’t mean to,” she said, laughing at her own foolishness, hardly able to process the fact that he was comforting her.
“I think it’s all just been too much lately. And now my uncle, the only person who cares whether I live or die, is in danger . . .”
She broke down completely, her entire body racked with unanticipated sobs. She turned away in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.
I’m a blubbering mess. You should go.”
“I’m not leaving you alone like this,” Des said, and even though she was humiliated for appearing this weak in front of him,
the words were exactly what she wanted to hear. She found a handkerchief and wiped her face, still turned away from him.
“I’m alone all the time, Des. Honestly, it’s my preferred state.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said, so close behind her that she felt his breath on the crown of her head. “If it was, you wouldn’t
keep company with demons.”
“Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe demons like me better than people,” she whispered.
Another laugh, a soft puff of air. And then, in a voice like honey, “Impossible. Not when I like you so damn much.”