49. Irrigate
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
IRRIGATE
Saya Claymore
Serun wraps the rope between his thumb and forefinger, then hooks it down around his elbow. His muscles tense as he drags the boat onto the shore and away from the beach, hiding it in some shrubbery. It’s not concealed completely, but it’s better than nothing.
“Won’t we be using your portal thingy once we have our family?” I ask Serun, my eyes on the faded path ahead, leading away from the beach and towards the nearby city of Shepherd. Pale white glows on the horizon, revealing there is human life here, unlike the dead nightwalker cities.
“I’d rather not have someone roaming the beach see a boat washed up on the shore.” Serun slackens the rope around his forearm and tosses it into the bushes with the boat. “Better if slayers don’t suspect nightwalkers are crossing the human border other than from the outpost.”
I point to the sandy ground. “This isn’t the slayer’s border?”
Olivia arches her brow. “Where have you been all your life? Inside a feeding ground?” she snorts.
Not my whole life, but I ignore her teasing and stare expectantly at Serun.
He raises a clawed hand, and in the blink of an eye, he is next to me, those long fingers wrapping around my wrist. “Sylvar is where most of the slayers live—a place we cannot enter because they have Mother’s light radiating across the snow there.
A large version of the light they have at the Prayer Sanctuaries. ”
I’ve heard of Prayer Sanctuaries, but I can’t exactly picture them compared to a settlement or compound.
Olivia nods. “Humans are not allowed entry unless under special circumstances.”
“Which are?”
“Experimentation,” Serun answers, dismissive. “Let’s find somewhere to rest for the night while I figure out the best route to get to Mire.”
A tightening sensation clenches my throat as I recall the dream of my friends floating in tanks, and Cole on a silver table with this…black worm inside of him.
Taking a deep breath, not wanting to dwell on such things now, we make our way into the woods instead of the main road. “Will they still be in Mire?”
“If not, it’s a lead. I can track down my brother’s scent easily.” His fingers slip into the gaps between mine. “Once we find Reyes, we will find your brother.”
Olivia wrinkles her nose. “Others like us won’t come close to you, Lady Consort. Lord Serun’s scent is of decay. All we will have to worry about are the slayers.”
I pinch the fabric of my tunic and sniff. I smell nothing.
Serun chuckles darkly.
Quiet after that, Olivia walks behind, with Serun in the lead and me in the middle. My fingers twitch towards my weapon because I can’t use my vegodian powers to my fullest potential. Around nightwalkers that I can turn to ash, I’d rather use the sword until I can.
Through a break in the tall oak and maple trees, hidden in the shadows on the rough forest path, my ears twitch at the sound of trickling water. It’s not the sound of the beach but more subtle, reminding me of the river in Cherry Bloom.
We make our way up a slope, and when we reach the clearing, moonlight glistening and tall grass swaying back and forth, I look down the path. The highway isn’t far, and nearby is another fuel station connected to a cafe. Near that is where the sound of water is coming from.
A stream flows down, away from the direction we are planning to travel. My eyes narrow slightly at creatures with yellow neon eyes and black pupils, leaning into the water to drink.
So, the echoes must be more human than nightwalker if they need to drink water.
Serun raises his hand, and the shadows swirling there turn to sand when he clenches his fist. Down by the water, the echoes arch their backs, screaming, before collapsing and their bodies melt into ash.
“Why do you call them echoes?” I ask, turning away from the river and making my way to Serun’s side.
I follow him down the slope, and we plunge back into the darkened woods.
“I know they come from Hellsgate, and you speculate that place is from Mother, but what are they? They can’t just be creatures from fables. ”
“I’ve wondered too,” Olivia says. “When I was human, they were a fable told to children to keep them from staying out after dark. Sometimes, telling them there were nightwalkers out there wasn’t enough. Humans with pointed ears and red eyes didn’t scare them as much as those grotesque creatures.”
“They come with the red moon,” he answers, and again his tone is dismissive. “Hellsgate opens, and they do all they can to flee. Without the red moon, they are weaker and supposed to die off, but it seems something has changed that I wasn’t made aware of since the last red moon.”
“And we never had the red moon when Mother was still here, did we?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t particularly understand why it appeared.”
“Most rule it under Mother’s rage.”
“But she was healing the moon when I saw her…”
A cool breeze captures me, sending a shiver up my goose-prickled arms at the thought of Mother cradling the moon. Delicate fingers mended the red, as if fixing an anomaly—a mistake that wasn’t supposed to happen.
“You saw Mother?” Olivia asks, her pace quicker until she’s beside me. “What did she look like? Was she happy?”
Looking back through my memories, I grimace at the way she looked. “Defeated,” I say with a slight nod. “Tired, as well. And if she’s been doing this every time the red moon appears, I could imagine it would be tiring.”
I land down the slope, the grass thinning out, and my boots sinking into the earthy, soft mulch.
Serun moves further ahead, a blanket of shadows thickening around us, as if shielding us from the outside world.
The only part exposed is the sliver of light bleeding down like rays of sunshine.
They shimmer against patches, exposing nocturnal creatures.
A fox scurries by, too scared to get any closer, and dives into a hollow hole that protrudes out of the hill we came down from.
Quickening my pace, I walk beside Serun. My hand goes to my stomach, tightening the muscles to stifle the hunger. “Is there something wrong, nightwalker?”
His eyes narrow, the only part that shows emotions aside from the shadows that swarm—a hive of black. They tell stories, especially in this form, whenever everything about him is a covet of shadow.
“No one has seen Mother since she vanished, but you watched her tending to the red moon while others could not. I’ve stared at that moon a fair few times and not once have I seen Mother.
Not even the other night.” His hand moves to me, flicking a piece of white hair over my shoulder before his arm falls. “So, how can you?”
“Vegodian?”
“Did your brother see it, then?”
Through the fog of torment, sinking in the pool of blood that soaked the granite he lay on, I recall the moment we left Darkovish Feeding Ground. I looked to the sky, yearning for the stars, when I noticed the moon and Mother.
“Mother?” Cole said, but it came out more like a question than acceptance or awe.
“I don’t know…”
His clawed finger hooks around the golden chains buckled to my waist, luring me to him until our shoulders brush. “The wolves are watching you. They’re waiting for an opening.”
From nearby and beyond the shadows, yellow eyes become neon blurs as the wolves prowl in the dark. They keep their distance, but their sights stay locked onto me, saliva dripping down from their jagged teeth.
They keep following, and as soon as I accept their presence, a cabin appears from the break in the trees ahead of us.
A mix of brick and wood, single-story, small cabin encased in trees.
Darkness shrouds it, as if rundown and something nightwalkers use if they’re desperate enough to hide from the sun.
Vervain rings around the front, reminding me of what Serun told me earlier. It’s used for protection. A barrier so that no one can see. But why can I see it, even before we step through the invisible barrier and towards the hut?
My tight muscles relax, and once we are inside, Serun glides the large wooden bolt across to barricade the door. “No light,” Serun says as he makes his way across the sofa covered in dust and to the only other door in the cabin. He swings it open and steps in, the darkness all-consuming.
Olivia makes her way to the fridge and opens it, only to click her tongue and swing it shut. “I’m so hungry,” she groans.
“Then hunt.” Serun leans against the doorframe, eyes settling on me. “I will be here with Saya.”
She sits up, looking between us, then smirks. “Alright, then. I think I smelled a few humans near the river. I will take my time.”
“Don’t kill them,” I say. “Just drink and move on.”
Olivia looks at me incredulously, but when I stare at her blankly, she sighs. “I will try my best.”
She opens the window, slides out, and closes it behind her instead of taking the door. Looking away from her, my shoulders jerk at how close Serun is to me. Shadows turn to smoke, and he reveals himself.
Dark circles run underneath his eyes like eyeliner, and there’s a softness deep within the crimson as his focus lowers to my mouth. An electrical current of emotions tingles my lips, craving the idea of his pressed against mine.
His hand finds my wrist, and he says, “Come. I will run a bath for you. Your human side sweats, and it’s masking my scent.”
“Okay?”
Lured into the other room, my focus lands on the bed wrapped with black satin when I run my fingers against it.
On the other side, drinking in the moonlight before Serun closes the wooden panels, is a ceramic tub.
Water gushes out, and steam lifts in the room, creating a layer of vapour to cloak the hardwood floorboards.
“Did you want me to leave?” he asks as he rises.
Looking at the tub, then back to Serun, I lift my brow and say, “Last time I undressed in front of you, you turned around—not the case this time?”
His finger hooks around the strings on his shirt, loosening them. “We are beyond that, don’t you think?”
With a smile, I pinch the stockings and slide them away from the tunic. “I believe so, nightwalker.” I remove them, and as I rise, I drop them next to me. “Was this the reason you wanted Olivia to leave? To have your way with me?”
My mouth runs dry when he shrugs off his shirt. Broad muscles tense under shadows and darkness. “One of the reasons…”
“And the other?” My hand goes to the zipper at my back when icy hands touch mine.
I press my arms across my chest, my heart stuttering as the zipper drags down my spine, slackening the tunic over my shoulders.
My breath sharpens when those hands tug the tight leather down.
I let my arms drop, and the tunic falls to my feet.
The only fabric covering me is my lace underwear.
“Bathe first, Saya,” he says. “Then we can entertain each other in more than an icy embrace.”
I face him, and deep red eyes snap to my chest. Prickles of hair rise, and my nipples harden at where his eyes seek.
An ache hits me, and my hands reach up, covering my breasts and nipple piercings.
Without a word, I make my way to the tub.
In the thickened steam, I remove my underwear, then step into the bath.
A long, drawn-out sigh escapes me, and I sink until the suds cover me.
It feels like an eternity since I’ve had one. Serun doesn’t have a tub in his manor—from that I know of—and Darkovish had us standing every day while we showered.
The knots that bind my back loosen after I grab the washcloth hanging from the side, draw it up and over my chest, and across my moonflower tattoo.
Serun comes up behind me, stool in hand, drops it by the tub, and eases onto it.
He raises his hand, and I hand him the washcloth, sit up, and lean forward.
Serun’s hand drags down my back, washing away sweat, sand and soil, but not the ink from his venomous bite.
“The tattoo hasn’t faded. Is that because we shared blood on the same night?”
Water rushes down my back as he squeezes out the excess, then drags the washcloth down my back again. “Yes. You’re correct.”
“Does it do anything more than you told me in the private room?”
Serun lifts my hair, twirling it into a knot before washing it across my shoulders. “Not unless you die and wake for your eternal night.”
I turn to look at him, my hands resting on the edge. Without missing a beat, he washes my cheek. My face drops, and I stare at him blankly. “What do you mean?”
The cloth runs beneath my jaw, and he tilts my head up with his middle and index fingers.
Serun draws closer to me, the stool creaking beneath his weight.
We are mere inches apart, his mouth brushing against mine, when a low whimper escapes me.
His mouth upturns cruelly, and he leans away, spinning his fingers and silently telling me to turn around.
After that, he combs my hair with his fingers. “When two eternal lovers share blood, they both gain the same markings. But since you are only part nightwalker, your venom—if you have any—doesn’t mark me. So if you ever decide to leave me, it wouldn’t hurt you.”
My brows furrow. “But will hurt you?”
“Yes—and the farther you're from me, the more it will hurt. It will feel like losing something you cherish most. My still heart would seem to beat in a way I wish it never would.”
I curl my legs to my chest, rest my chin on my knees, and whisper, “Is that why Lucifer acts the way he does? Because he's hurting all the time?”
“Partially…”
“I see…”
Serun lowers the sponge in front of me, and my breath hitches as the sodden fabric glides across my breasts and supple nipples. His cold, decayed breath brushes the shell of my ear, and as the cloth inches between my legs, he whispers, “Did you want me to, or would you like to wash your thighs?”
Water droplets fall into the tub as I lean into him. My lips brush his, and a moan threatens to shatter my lungs, but I cover his hand, take the washcloth, and say, “Wait for me on the bed. I’ll be finished soon.”
“Then I will watch and indulge with sight alone,” he says as he rises without the washcloth and makes his way to the bed.