15. Sebastian
Sebastian
T he windows of the bedroom shook slightly as Sebastian chuckled inwardly at the thump from across the street.
One of his chaos spirits had told him Pavel was out there, but it was only a guess that Pavel’s hearing would be good enough to catch his whispering.
The old man deserved it. He should have come inside.
Justin pulled back, frowning.
“What was that?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Will you sleep with me tonight?”
“Uh…”
“Next to me. Sleep next to me. I know vampires don’t need much sleep, but I would really like it if you were by my side.”
Justin nodded, his lips curling up in a tentative smile. “I love to sleep. I sleep way more than most vampires.”
Sebastian bent over and kissed Justin’s forehead, cherishing the smooth skin beneath his lips. The vampire smelled so good, like grass and the freshness of spring.
Justin stepped back. “I need to use the bathroom. ”
“It’s down the hall on the right.”
As Justin slipped out of the room, Sebastian let out a sigh. He never thought finding his mates would be this complicated . He glanced around his childhood bedroom.
So many traces of his brooding teenage years. He knew if he opened one of the desk drawers, he’d find a stack of journals filled with angsty credos and hastily drawn sketches of dark, shirtless fallen angels. How had he not known at the time he was such a cliché ?
It was embarrassing to have his mate here.
There was a vulnerability, a rawness that came with inviting Justin into his adolescent sanctuary.
The vampire suddenly had access to all his insecurities, all his old worries about looking weird, being too much, being unlovable.
On an intellectual level, he knew those teenage thoughts weren’t real, they were manifestations of high school fear and confusion, but it was still nerve-wracking.
Although if he had imagined Pavel and Justin as his mates back then, his head would have exploded. He couldn’t have conceived he’d be lucky enough to land those two, not in a million years.
Sebastian had stripped down to his underwear, a pair of navy-blue trunks with a cute white diamond design, by the time Justin returned. He was lounging on the bed when his mate entered, and Sebastian loved the fire he saw in Justin’s eyes as he caught sight of what was waiting for him.
The vampire audibly gulped and then also removed his clothes.
Sebastian was overcome for a moment. The sight of Justin’s barely tanned skin and slender frame was a thing of beauty.
His tight gray briefs cupped his perky ass in a deliciously sinful way.
Justin’s hands covered his crotch, but the glimpse Sebastian had gotten let him know the man had nothing to be ashamed of.
Sebastian cleared his throat and flipped over the covers to allow his mate to slide in.
An uncertain expression crossed Justin’s face for a moment, and then he slipped in, immediately wrapping his arms around Sebastian and resting his head on the left side of the witch’s chest. The vampire’s cooler body temperature, a product of his undead state, was a balm against Sebastian’s warmer core.
A second later, Justin draped a leg over Sebastian’s thigh.
“You, uh…you feel amazing,” Justin murmured.
Sebastian hummed in agreement, soaking in the absolute perfection of it all.
Well, almost perfect. There was a strange absence on his other side. There was a vacuum where Pavel’s strong, compact body was missing. It tugged at Sebastian’s soul, a hint of sadness underpinning the sweet comfort.
He sighed and ignored it. He would enjoy what he had, for now.
Sebastian woke up somewhere else.
He didn’t realize at first. The place appeared to be his childhood home, the house where the Circle resided. Where they were right now.
But when his eyes snapped open, he was already on his feet, facing the hallway on the second floor.
Except…there were too many doors. When Sebastian tried to focus on specific ones, his vision blurred, the wood blending into the unnatural amber light.
The mildest of odors, of grass and herbs, tickled his nose .
He was no longer in his underwear, now wearing his everyday uniform of black skinny jeans and a black t-shirt.
He reached into his pants pocket for the pinch of flower petals he kept there: a mix of lavender and bluebell.
Not enough to do any significant spellwork with, but enough to entice one of his spirits to speak to him.
There was nothing there.
Before he could question the absence, a pressure formed in Sebastian’s brain, and a sense of danger, of being trapped, built in him, filling his burning gut and spreading to infuse every atom of his being.
He needed to get out. This house was his tomb. As a teenager, he knew that as much as his mother loved him, her expectations and the rules of the Circle would force him into a life he would hate.
The staircase was missing. Where had it gone?
He grabbed for the nearest doorknob to his right.
In a pinch, he could leave by the window.
But the door wouldn’t budge, and after a moment, the doorknob melted in his hand, covering his fingers in viscous liquid brass.
It had a grainy texture that made his skin crawl.
Yelping and shaking the otherworldly material off his hand, Sebastian staggered back and stared.
What the hell was going on?
Sebastian tried the next door, then the next. The doorknobs didn’t melt this time, but none of them turned even a centimeter. His heart was beating hard now, pounding away in his ears, and he slammed on the surface of the third door with his palm.
“Let me out!” he yelled, but his cries did nothing. The door still would not open .
That’s when he heard it. It was soft, so soft he almost missed it. A whimper. Someone in pain.
Sebastian stopped in his tracks, listening.
“Please…please, give me my aunt back. She’s my only family.”
It was faint, coming from the far end of the hall. The desperate pleading of someone who had lost everything.
And it was Justin.
Rage fueled Sebastian as he ran across the hardwood floor, ignoring the loud thudding of his boots against the oak. He came to a stop in front of the last door on the left. This one was different than the others, gray and cracked, an otherworldly red light shining from within.
He reached out to open the door but stopped when he heard voices on the other side.
“You’ll get your aunt back when my coven master says, and not a moment before.” The voice was low, almost a growl, and Sebastian hated the menace permeating the sound.
“But—”
“You want her back? You need to prove your commitment.”
“Rick, I’ll do whatever you want. I can join the coven, work for you, whatever you need.” The despair in Justin’s voice made Sebastian’s heart ache.
“Oh, you will.” Sebastian shivered at the crude desire dripping from the man’s tone. “Starting right now. You’re a pretty little thing…”
Something hit the floor. Maybe a chair? Justin cried out, but the outburst quickly came to a strangled stop.
Sebastian wouldn’t let whoever this man was mistreat his mate.
His whole body trembled with rage. He didn’t know what he could do—he didn’t have any supplies to work a spell—but what kind of mate would he be if he allowed this to go on?
Assessing the door for a moment, he took a deep breath and kicked. Hard.
The crack that issued forth as it gave way was unnatural. He’d broken open not only the door to the room but some kind of otherworldly power lock. It echoed with a low, demonic hum.
Inside, he found Justin. A clawed hand was wrapped around his throat, and the vampire attached to it dwarfed Justin’s small frame. Sporting a crew cut, the muscular man had a sneer plastered across his face, enhancing the ugly malevolence of his square visage.
The room was in a different location entirely from the hallway behind him. This wasn’t the second floor of an old Bayonne mansion. They were on the ground level now, somewhere in the woods, and the logs making up the walls were aged and deteriorating. He’d never been to this cabin before.
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” the massive vampire growled and tossed Justin to the side. Sebastian flinched at the crunch when Justin’s head hit the wall. “This isn’t for you.”
Before Sebastian could reply, Justin screamed from the other side of the room.
“You’re supposed to be dead, Rick!”
The large man laughed, the sound of it harsh and joyless. “Maybe I am dead. But not so dead I can’t take care of a weak vampire and his powerless witch.”
The calculus of the situation was flying through Sebastian’s brain, and it wasn’t good.
Wherever they were, he didn’t even have the most rudimentary ingredients.
There were other ways to work, but none he was comfortable with.
Spellwork with his own blood wasn’t an option, even in a moment this desperate.
The consequences of blood magic were too great, and he wouldn’t only be putting himself at risk.
He knew some witches used aural components to cast spells, but he…
Well, he didn’t have anything that made noise.
Of course, he was a singer, even if the tradition of his Circle didn’t typically use that method. But he’d ever trained in it. He’d be making this up on the fly.
Sebastian had to try. He swallowed, clearing his throat, before he took a deep breath and opened his mouth.
The people that walkéd in darkness
That walkéd in darkness
The people that walkéd, that walkéd in darkness
Have seen a great light
Have seen a great light!
It was the very first thing that came to Sebastian’s mind.
What a ridiculous choice. From Handel’s Messiah , the aria was something Sebastian sang as a teenage bass, playing at being an opera singer.
It was a bible verse, and nothing about Sebastian or his magic was Christian in nature. Religious spellwork wasn’t his thing.