Chapter 14
Portarius
I'm annoyed Selene would even mention it.
As a vampire, she moved here from Realm Four, establishing herself within Inferloch as a presence not to be messed with.
Her clothing is sought after among all the realms, but because travel between them is limited, her designs are a sign of wealth and power, whereas here in our small town, they are the standard.
Everyone wears her clothing, even the damned get our threadbare items. She is the only seamstress for miles and, unfortunately for me, is well informed about my kind.
She assumed Emmie would become my bonded.
That I could save her with just a simple ceremony and an eternity together.
And after the way her body moved against mine in the bath last night, I want nothing more than to confess the only thing that would save her.
My reservation is with eternity. It's not something you can change your mind about when the dust has settled.
To bond with someone.
To have a bonded.
It is everything.
We are taught from a young age that to find a soul that identifies with your own, to have that sort of match, is almost impossible.
And while I knew there was something different about Emmie, our destiny was all but confirmed when my spina bloomed from the end of my cock as she took pleasure from my body.
I have found my bonded, but I can not have her …
yet. This is a topic I knew I would have to tread lightly over.
I do not want to trouble her. It is simple for me to know that every day will be filled with wonder when we truly share our souls, but she does not understand the depths that eternity brings.
It is not a suggestion of time; it is inevitable.
We walk the block to the apothecary in silence.
Her hand holds tightly onto two of my fingers, and for the millionth time since she arrived, I run through different scenarios of what could happen between us.
Our happily ever after or her regretful end.
A life so uncertain. The only thing that is guaranteed is the poison currently taking over her body.
It will not stop.
It will end her.
The door squeaks, and we are engulfed in the heady scent of clove and sage as we step into the apothecary.
I usher Emmie ahead of me, holding her close, waiting until I hear the thump of the potion master's wooden leg slamming against the hard floor.
Each wall is covered in an array of glass bottles, with herbs drying from the ceiling.
A well worn workbench taking over the centre of the room with an assortment of half open tinctures and rudimentary tonics.
I have never sought out the potion master's advice as I have the Gate to heal me should I need it, but I have visited on occasion to gather some essence or oils to bring life to my home.
“What!”
The snap of the potion master's voice slices through the room. The incense smoke swirls in the air as he hobbles into view.
“Careful, Imp. I will not hesitate to end your life if you frighten my human.”
I can barely control the building rage rolling off me.
First, Selene, talking out of turn and now the potion master.
I can feel my warrior burning beneath the surface at the disrespect, begging to unleash and protect our bonded.
It is a feeling that has lay dormant since I was a boy, first learning the true power of my people.
“Easy, Gatekeeper. I was not aware it was you. I thought that bloody fat demon was back, trying to snatch some bone broth before it’s done.”
He begins muttering as he moves about the room, pulling bottles and herbs down and making space on the workbench.
We watch in silence as he lights matches and grinds everything in a mortar and pestle.
His confident movements hypnotising. Finally, extracting a small amount of oil and holding it out in a tiny corked vial.
“Take this twice a day, or if the pain gets too much. It will give you an extra week or so, but will not stop the inevitable.”
“W - what?” Emmie stutters. “I didn't even tell you what's wrong?”
“I assume you're here for the poison? Your blood reeks of it. I’m sorry. It's hard to avoid with a beak as sharp as mine,” he says, tapping the tip of his nose.
“I feel like I smell like a dumpster fire and don't know it, ” she grumbles. I must remember to ask what that is so I may alert her. This dumpster fire does not sound pleasant.
“Not everyone, but a select few will scent the taint to your blood. It will become more prominent as it spreads, but for now…” He lifts his nose in the air, leaning forward, taking several short sniffs. “It has not spread far, but in several days, you will be screaming for the end.”
Today is Tuesday. By the weekend, she will be dead to this realm.
“And the tincture will give her another week?” Another week to decide.
“Roughly. It's not an exact science, but I assume you will bond?”
“Do not speak of the bonding!” I growl.
“What's a bonding?” she immediately asks.
Dragging my hand across my face, I glance down to see her staring at me. Wide eyed, clasping onto the small glass vial so tightly that her knuckles have turned white.
“Come, Emmie, there is … I can … I think we should continue with our day. We have many things to do before the day's end.”
I tried. I wanted to tell her, but the words stick in my throat. We didn't have the time to spare given her current condition, and I didn't want to spend any longer than needed in Inferloch. “I would like to return home tomorrow, but I will tell you when we rest this evening.”
A part of me hopes that she will forget about what she heard as we visit each store. Her tug on my hand stops those fruitful dreams like a bucket of water over fire as her brow dips in earnest.
“Promise? Promise you will tell me later, Portarius.”
Despite my mind telling me not to, my heart wants to merge souls with my bonded, and I nod my head, agreeing to tell her all that I know.