53. Levi
LEVI
Tires spit mud and gravel as my truck roars down Gideon’s driveway.
Gideon’s already glowering at me from his front porch as I slam the truck into park.
He’s shirtless, belt unbuckled as if he just yanked them on at the sound of Trigger barking like a maniac in warning.
The cold, fall rain hammers across my burning skin as I march my way to his house.
The space inside my chest where I once felt my tether to Violette, fiery with the pain of denial, now is... not.
What lies in its place is rage, fear, and bronze veins spreading out from the center of my sternum.
Just as I ascend the porch steps, Winnow appears behind Gideon, wearing a fluffy bathrobe.
Oh, thank fuck. Just the person I came to see.
“I need your help.”
“I have no idea where Violette lives, Levi. I’m sorry.”
The desperation ready to explode from my chest turns my voice into a growled whisper, causing Gideon to frown.
“Don’t you have... magic or something you can use? Surely, someone knows where she lives?”
Winnow’s expression is compassionate. “I could scry, but I imagine she has wards to prevent being spied upon.”
“What about her friends?”
Winnow’s mouth opens and closes as if searching for the right words. “I don’t know any of Violette’s friends…”
Or if she even has any.
The reality of that possibility hits me square in the chest.
Fuck me, I’ve completely abandoned my soulbound, and she had no one to turn to.
Except Azrael.
Gideon clears his throat. “Didn’t you say she owns a matchmaking business?”
Doubt creases Winnow’s features.
“I thought so, yes, but then she returned the jewel I gave her, which is what I thought she needed to use in order to fund it... I assumed she decided against it to continue?—”
Winnow’s cheeks redden, and she exchanges a look with Gideon before giving me a pitying look that makes my stomach drop impossibly further.
A tremor starts in my hand as I pace the length of their living room.
“Well, as far as I know, Violette worked as a um…”
Oh my god, I’m going to have a fucking heart attack. My eyes leap to Gideon’s. Expression stone cold. “A brothel mistress.”
An iron fist sinks talons into my heart at the reminder. At everything she likely had to endure in such a profession.
Winnow fidgets with her robe. “She didn’t enjoy it or anything! She was quite desperate to leave?—”
Gideon silences her by taking one of her hands in his.
“Levi doesn’t judge her, angel... Only himself.”
I am... the worst.
The suffocating fist of despair, guilt, and shame seems to squeeze my windpipe. “Please, just help me find her.”
Winnow nods reassuringly. “If she started a business, Ginny will be able to find her.”
“Ginny?”
Winnow smirks. “You’ve never met an orc, have you?”
My brows lift as my face drops.
Winnow chuckles, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Oh, joy…”
A bobblehead of a garden gnome appears in her open palm. She whispers words I can’t understand into its pointed ears and then tugs on its shuddering head before setting it on the living floor between us.
The gnome, previously inanimate, springs to life, briefly throwing me a curious glance before it withdraws a bright green piece of chalk from its pocket and begins illustrating something that only vaguely looks like a pentagram on the wood floor.
The lines appear to dissolve into the floor before the entire space within the illustration, line by line, appears to drift like sand into a sinkhole until nothing remains but a hole in the fabric of this realm that leads into Winnow’s—which appears to be set at an entirely different angle.
My heart is a thunderous beat in my chest. Shock, awe, hope, and desperation pump fire through my veins as I stare lamely into what looks like a storefront taken straight out of some kind of Elven-Dollhouse-Willy-Wonka-world.
The space is lit solely by a pink fire crackling within a large stone hearth, softly illuminating the room decorated in greens, golds, and blues that boasts squishy-looking velvet furniture with elaborately carved clawfoot legs.
Winnow stands about to step through the portal, hesitating as she looks down at her bathrobe. Before I can blink, the bathrobe is replaced with a dress. A shirt appears on Gideon as he slips his hand into hers and gives me a look.
“Brace yourself.”
Incapable of forming a response, I nod and follow them through the portal.
Instead of falling through the floor, the world shifts to be right-side up.
The pink flames roar in the hearth, making my muscles tense, and a moment later, I hear floorboards creaking from above and several sets of footsteps.
The staccato thud, thud, thud of more than one large person lumbering down the stairs has me shifting to find a broad, shirtless, green form bowing a head of long black hair to fit through the too-small space of the stair landing.
Folding at the waist in Winnow’s direction, his deep, gravely voice intones, “Your Grace.”
He is followed by two other orcs, one slightly larger, one slightly shorter—though all three of them are giant. Winnow rolls her eyes. “You know I no longer hold the duchy?—”
“Duchess!”
The soft, but high-pitched voice has us twisting back towards the fireplace to find who I assume is Ginny—tall, thickly curved, pointed ears, bright blue eyes, with a tremendous mane of red hair down to her hips—and dressed in a set of pale blue silk pajamas with frilly cuffs.
Winnow grins at her, apology written in her eyes. “Forgive me for calling on you at such an early hour. Time difference and whatnot.”
Ginny waves her off with one hand as she uses the other to hide a yawn. “It’s all part of the trade. Where is it you need to go?”
The words leap from my tongue before Winnow even has a chance to reply. “I need to find Violette Lark.”
The three orcs make their way through the room to form a semi-circle of heavily muscled flesh behind Ginny, making it clear that this woman has three mates. Each of whom studies me with a hint of wariness.
Holy fuck... Are they all soulbound?
I can’t imagine sharing Violette with anyone, soulbound or not.
Ginny gives me an unimpressed look. “The brothel mistress?”
My scowl turns her mates’ stares into glares, one of them even growls. My temper flares to match it. “She doesn’t do that anymore.”
Does she?
I would still want her all the same.
Ginny’s brows pinch. “Oh, I hadn’t heard... And what business do you have with her? I don’t do kidnappings.”
She says it casually as if it’s a common request.
“She is my soulbound.”
Or at least was.
The gaping hole in my chest feels like a cauterized wound. The edges around it simmer with heat, reminding me of the place where our bond should be.
Ginny’s brows leap towards her hairline. “I see... Well, in that case,” she pauses, turning towards one of her orc mates, “Darling, fetch me my Rolodex.”
Rolodex?
The orc disappears down a hallway illuminated by torches, cradling golden orbs, and reappears a few moments later carrying a glass case, and sure enough, there’s a fucking 1980s Rolodex sitting on a velvet pillow inside.
At my look, Ginny arches a brow. “What? I like to collect human things.”
Taking the Rolodex into careful hands, she begins to turn the wheel. A soft whirring sound fills the room, and gold dust begins to mist the air around it as she whispers something in another language.
Ginny suddenly stops, as does the rotation of this bizarre, magical Rolodex. “Please confirm this is the Violette Lark you’re seeking?”
A radiant hologram ripples to life in the air between us, depicting a dour-looking Violette with what I can only assume are stats, but the characters are nothing I can interpret.
My heart clenches at the sight of her.
“Affirmative.”
Ginny places the Rolodex back into the glass case that her mate still holds. “Thank you, my love.”
The orc leans in and presses a kiss to her lips before disappearing down the hallway again. Ginny heaves a sigh. “Well, it says she’s no longer working at the brothel…”
A sigh of relief leaves me a little too loudly.
“However, it’s six in the morning, which means she’s probably not at her place of business.”
“Do you know where she lives?”
Ginny’s brows knit together. “I have my ways, but the more important question is, does she want you to know where she lives?”
“I’m her soulbound. Of course she wants me to know where she lives.”
The woman gives me a bored look, folding her arms across her chest and drumming her fingers.
“You’ll have to forgive me for being skeptical, considering you’ve somehow lost your way and she hasn’t even given you a way to contact her, but for some reason, you must do so in the young hours of the morning. ”
Obviously, I have no argument to that.
Gideon, however, does.
“He’s an idiot.”
Ginny sighs, rolling her eyes as though she is frequently burdened by this excuse.
Thankfully, Winnow proves to be an ally, and I’m all the more appreciative of her for it. “He’s a good male. We wouldn’t have brought him to you otherwise.”
Ginny studies me with a smirk. “Well, if the Duchess is willing to vouch for you…”
“Former Duchess,” Winnow corrects.
Ginny releases another yawn behind her palm. “Right. Let’s get you back to where you belong so we can all go back to bed.”
Relief washes over me. Finally, I am mere moments away from my soulbound.