Chapter 33
Sidney
The heavy oak door to my new quarters clicked shut, but the silence inside was far from peaceful.
The length of the room became a track beneath my restless feet.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the Flask drinking vampires down to husks or felt the phantom weight of my missing stake.
Finn had taken Noir to his room and secured him.
The rats still hadn’t returned with a name, leaving the thief faceless in the dark.
Zane caught my shoulders, pulling me into a kiss that stole the breath and the frantic spiral of thoughts right out of me. “How can I help?”
I couldn’t answer. There was no lever he could pull to fix this, no words that could bridge the gap.
Even as he held me steady, my mind was already stripping away comfort to reveal the cold reality beneath.
My gaze cut to the adjoining room where Noir sat, leaning back in his chair and humming something off-key. The manacles glinted on his wrists.
“I’m taking his cuffs off.”
Finn returned just as Zane asked, “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“No.” I folded my arms across my chest. “But if we’re selling the lie that he’s my third devotee, we can’t keep him in magical restraints. It undermines the entire story.”
Finn’s gaze flicked between us, catching the tension before he signed, What if he attacks us?
“I don’t think he will.” The memory of his mouth on mine surfaced, uninvited and impossible to ignore.
“You don’t think?” Zane’s eyebrow rose. “That’s reassuring.”
Leaving his skepticism behind, I crossed the threshold. Noir looked up, a grin already spreading through his beard. “My flower, here to set me free. How romantic!”
“I can trust you, right?” I watched for any flicker of deception in his eyes.
“Trust is a heavy word, one that snaps the neck of anyone foolish enough to wear it. But do I want the curtain to fall early on this performance? Hardly. I am far too fascinated by the leading lady to spoil the final act.” He leaned back, eyes bright with that familiar manic gleam.
“Of course you can trust me. The hero always wins the prize, and I intend to be very heroic.”
After untying his ropes, I pulled the key from my pocket. My hands steadied as I worked the lock. Click. Click. The restraints fell from his lap as he pushed them off, hitting the floor with a heavy clang.
The moment his skin was free, his voice curled through my thoughts. “How about another kiss?”
He rose and stepped close, fingers lifting to brush a strand of hair from my face.
I caught his wrist before he touched me. “Keep your magic to yourself if you ever want to touch me again.”
“There she is.” Noir’s eyes gleamed. “I was curious where your lines were drawn. Fine. I’ll behave.”
“You never behave.”
He flashed a wicked smile. “Consistency is one of my many charms.”
“Is that your power? You can communicate with others mentally?” I remembered his voice in my mind moments before I stabbed myself. There had to be an element of compulsion to his magic as well.
He gave a lazy shrug. “Telepathy’s just the appetizer.
" He reached out and touched the edge of the chair. Wood grain rippled under his fingers like water, the solid oak bending and reshaping before snapping back to its original form. “Mental whispers, matter manipulation, emotional nudging. A bit of this, a bit of that. Basically everyone’s tricks, but they’re far more interesting when I’m the one using them. ”
I did my best to hide my shock. He was far more powerful than we’d thought. “Well, use any of them against us and the cuffs go back on,” I warned.
“Promises, promises. Most people have to pay extra for that kind of play.”
The heat rose to my cheeks. I turned to leave, but he called out, “Oh, before I forget—” He began rummaging through the bag of belongings we’d taken from his quarters, left at the foot of his bed where Butters and the black cat slept together. “I have something for you.”
He pulled out a small vial filled with a glowing crimson substance.
“What is it?”
“Phoenix blood.” He held it up to the light, watching the liquid swirl. “A gift I’ve kept for my future Beloved. Very rare.”
I narrowed my gaze at him. “It’s a ruse, remember?”
“Was I supposed to remember something?” With that cheerful question, he stood and crossed to me, pressing the container into my palm. His fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary, the vessel hot against my skin.
Noir settled back into his chair with smug satisfaction and waved toward the door, where Zane and Finn waited. “They are lovely starter devotees, but eventually you’ll want someone with real substance. Someone who’s lived long enough to appreciate you properly.”
I was too distracted by the gift to notice his theatrics. It was like he’d handed me a vial of liquid fire. “Why did you have this?”
“I got it off some pathetic merchant after I finished my actual target about 400 years ago? 372? Whatever. The poor creature wore a ridiculous hat. He was so terrified of my blade that he offered it for his life, swearing it was the rarest blood in existence and that the bird shifters are resistant to vampire venom.” Noir’s grin curled, all teeth and delight.
“The irony is he wasn’t even on my list. I planned to let him live so he could sprint through the boroughs telling everyone how magnificent I am, but then he handed me this, and really…
why ruin a perfectly good misunderstanding? ”
“If it’s blood, why didn’t you drink it?” I raised the vial against the fading light. Gold and crimson shifted within the glass, the fluid pulsing with an internal luminescence like trapped embers. Suspended flecks drifted in patterns too orderly for simple debris, defying the pull of gravity.
My mind catalogued its physical properties.
The substance possessed a viscosity far higher than human blood.
Iridescent refraction at the edges. While the temperature appeared stable, it left a thick, cohesive film that slid slowly back to the bottom.
This behavior indicated heavy proteins. Perhaps even enzymes capable of withstanding the heat of a phoenix.
He snorted, amused and offended in equal measure. “I’m not crazy enough to swallow something that could burn me from the inside.”
I tucked the vial into my belt. The weight of it felt like a promise.
I drew a steady breath. “Whether or not we like it, we’re almost out of time, and I'm done playing around.” I peeked out the window. The first gray threads of dawn gathered at the horizon. “I’m going out. Don’t wait for me to rest.”
“Oh, I won’t.” He glanced toward the ceiling. “Rest, that is.”
Finn entered the room, Zane behind him. Zane claimed the chair near the window, flipping a dagger lazily between his fingers as he kept his eyes on Noir. “Everything good, Sidney?” he asked, tone deceptively casual.
I nodded. A moment later, the honey badger waddled in, his claws clicking like heavy dice on the stone floor. He didn’t head for his usual corner. Instead, he made a beeline straight for Zane and, without hesitation, climbed onto his lap, settling directly on top of him.
“What the—” Zane tried to shift, lifting the dagger out of the way. Boris didn’t budge. “Finn. Your demon rodent is using me as furniture.”
Finn’s eyes flickered with a spark of pure, silent mischief. What?
“Don’t ‘what’ me. Get him off.”
Boris yawned, showing all his teeth. His head rested on Zane’s chest, beady eyes staring up at him with unsettling intensity.
“Finn.” Zane’s voice dropped low, lifting the dagger in a pointed gesture. “You did this on purpose.”
Finn’s face was the picture of innocence. Did what? His shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug that almost made me laugh.
“Bullshit. You told him to sit on me.”
I might have suggested you looked comfortable.
“Comfortable?” Zane placed the blade on the floor and tried to shove Boris off his lap. The honey badger responded with a low, offended grunt.
“Don’t hurt him,” I warned. “He’s still banged up from the labyrinth.” I glanced up at Finn, who beamed at me like this was all perfectly normal.
Zane exhaled through his nose, resigned. “I’m being held hostage by a glorified weasel.”
Boris is a honey badger, Finn corrected primly. Very different.
“I don’t care what he is. Get. Him. Off.”
Finn tilted his head, considering. Then his eyes unfocused.
Boris’s tongue lolled out. He leaned forward and licked a long, deliberate stripe up the side of Zane’s face.
“Oh, you absolute—” Zane sputtered, wiping badger saliva off his cheek. “That’s foul!”
I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh. Finn’s expression remained perfectly neutral, but his shoulders shook.
He signed, He says you taste like salt and bad attitude. He is trying to help.
Zane slumped back against the headboard. “I hate both of you.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing again. Whatever else happened tonight, at least we’d face it together. All of us. Including our increasingly chaotic animal companions.
“That one!” Noir exclaimed, pointing at Finn. “We’re going to be best friends.”
I signed it to Finn, who grinned and signed back, Glad someone A-P-P-R-E-C-I-A-T-E-S my work.
Boris finally climbed off Zane’s lap and ambled over to curl up at the foot of the bed like he’d completed an important mission.
The ride on Ash’s back to Harmony was a blur of racing thoughts, yet I felt lighter without the bracelet, a small breath of freedom returning. The mastiffs shadowed our journey, pacing us as silent sentinels, ready to help at the first sign of trouble.
Emmeline’s voice lingered in my thoughts, echoing like a warning I couldn’t outrun. “Figures matching your description leaving the mansion grounds on foot.” She was circling the truth with a predator’s patience, closing in for the kill with every question.