Chapter 5 Brazen Homage #2
“There’s only one way to find out if that little rat has spoken the truth. We’ll need to seek out your brother,” he says as his troubled eyes meet mine, our perfect storm.
As we walk through the alleys and streets that lead us to the inn, neither of us is willing to rush.
Being here again, the place I was supposed to call home for a short time, I can finally appreciate the architecture this city has to offer.
From time to time, I pause to marvel at the carved ornaments and paintings on the walls, and Emrys indulges me, loving my curious nature.
It’s the first time I am experiencing this city for what it is, without thoughts about my brother and how I would have loved to decorate the ornate walls with his bloodied organs.
The many stained-glass windows remind me that once, this city belonged to the Light, to the humans, remnants of a violent past. Those who encounter us walk around us with a wide berth.
Some stop, their noses in the air, jerking their heads in my direction, but when they spot Emrys, their frenzy comes under control, their trepidation stronger than their hunger.
It seems every darkling has a desire for a taste of my blood.
It makes me realize that I am, indeed, vulnerable, as Augustus, the vampire, pointed out earlier. A low hum of fear threads through my pulse, and I press myself closer to Emrys.
With me close by, you are never vulnerable, Tempest. My shadows crawl over your skin as well, ready to unleash on anyone foolish enough to reach for you.
I relax a little, but I stay close to Emrys as we continue walking. It doesn’t take long before the building that houses the inn emerges, opulent and beautiful—something I only truly notice now.
Suddenly, dread overtakes me, and my nerves sing with wary energy.
It dawns on me that I'm scared to face my brother and his false soulmate, Jodelle, even with Emrys beside me. It’s the uncertainty that gnaws at me.
I don’t know how they will react to seeing me, or Emrys.
Will the curse have changed him after we managed to lift it?
I am unsure if he’d be willing to sacrifice his soulmate to free himself.
We do not know how deeply the curse's poisonous tentacles have embedded themselves in my brother's mind, whether the murderous desires intensified with me removed from the hex.
Emrys pulls me into the shadows as Caria and the other witch, Reiner, storm out of the establishment.
We know they want something from Fynn, but it’s unclear what it is.
All we unraveled is that it isn’t a coincidence that Caria happened to work at the inn when my mother arrived with us, nor is it fortuitous that she and my brother developed some sort of relationship.
I’m certain she didn’t plan on Jodelle’s arrival or how smitten my brother suddenly became.
His infatuation with the death witch is fabricated, and he has no idea.
We eavesdrop while the witches converse, Emrys listening intently.
“This is a problem,” the male witch tells Caria, his eyes full of sorrow as he looks at her. He’s in distress… for her, I realize.
“We can’t go through with this, I won’t allow it, Caria,” he continues.
She looks at him pleadingly.
“I can do this; it’ll be fine. He won’t hurt me,” she says, trying to sound confident.
“It’s not even about that bastard anymore. That little bitch has the same power as him, just weaker. She can seriously hurt you, Caria—even kill you. You’re no longer safe, and I refuse to seek revenge for you,” Reiner says firmly.
She gazes at him, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. Caria takes his hands in hers and kisses the backs of his knuckles.
“I’ll be fine, I promise,” she says once more.
“Don’t you fucking get it?! I won’t seek revenge, because I’ll be torn apart.
If you die, I’m not sure I’ll survive the heartbreak, Caria.
I don’t think I’ll be able to put myself back together.
I’ll never be able to find all the shattered pieces and mend my heart, because there will always be a part missing: YOU. ”
“Reiner…” she whispers.
He pulls her into his embrace, their foreheads touching as he lowers his head. Caria presses her body tightly against him.
“I need you, Caria. I can’t imagine… I won’t live this lifetime, or any after, without you. Promise me you’ll let it rest, please,” he says.
Caria hesitates, then nods her head, and they kiss each other briefly.
Emrys catches my eye, letting out a deep sigh.
"This isn't good news,” he says. “It seems the curse has decided, with you out of the equation, to shift its protection to Jodelle, which means your mother might not be shielded either.”
“This is a disaster. We've got to help my mother,” I whisper.
“It’s going to be alright, my love, I promise.”
Emrys emerges from the shadows, and I follow him closely, his shadows lingering around me.
“Witches,” he says, his dark voice demanding their attention, causing their gazes to shift toward him, interrupting their intimate conversation.
I see Caria stifle, panic written all over her face, while the male witch, Reiner, straightens his shoulders and raises his chin.
Yet he, too, is not free from fright. He takes a protective stance, with the fog curling on his skin—a defensive mechanism that doesn’t stand a chance against Emrys’s shadows.
The death witch follows her partner’s example, and her shadows begin to dance on and around her body as well. Emrys chuckles softly.
“Let’s not, shall we?” he says, waving at them dismissively. “Let's not pretend you two stand a chance against me.”
“But we stand a chance against her,” the male witch says aggressively.
Within seconds, he’s on the ground, writhing and coughing up blood. I cross my arms as I watch the witch in dismay; his threat against me is not taken lightly by my monster.
“Let's not get cocky, shall we?” Emrys snarls. “No one, not even a seasoned First Quarter Witch like yourself, will stand a chance against me—and my mate. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, I got carried away, my apologies, Umbra,” he chokes, blood dripping onto the cobblestones, smearing his face.
Emrys releases the witch, with his arm protectively around my waist, a statement that even a simple threat directed at me will evoke his wrath.
“You only live as I might need both of you.”
The words hang in the air.
Reiner glances at Caria, and his face twists in terror as he sees her embody rage, foam gathering at the corners of her mouth, dark shadows curling around her in all directions.
“No, no, NO! Caria, don’t do it!” Reiner shouts.
I can tell Caria hears Reiner’s voice; her ears perk up as she listens to him scream, the alarm evident, but she can’t seem to help herself.
I watch with interest and morbid curiosity as she forces her malevolent shadows off herself.
Her legs tremble as she musters all her strength to hold herself up and stand firm.
It’s fascinating to watch. Caria studies Emrys, who glowers at her with a smirk, amusement in his darkened eyes, the shade now closer to black.
His sharp canines are visible as he smiles at her, silently beckoning her to try.
It seems that hearing and seeing Emrys threaten Reiner awoke something inside her—a primal urge to protect him.
She seems to struggle to understand why Reiner didn’t at least try to stand up for himself, whereas Reiner understood he was no match for Emrys.
I grin as I take in the young witch launching her shadows at Emrys with all her power, doing her best to direct them, despite their protest. Her shadows are violent and stubborn, with a will of their own, not fully in sync with her and the instructions she tries to give.
My love stands before her, eyeing Caria with intrigue.
Dust and dirt fly into the air as her shadows finally move in unison, fast and powerful.
Yet the black tendrils halt in front of Emrys’s face with a quick hand gesture—a wave to the side—and her shadows follow, yanking Caria along.
Then he moves his hand down, and her face meets the ground.
He forces her into position, dirt coating her face as she kneels before him.
She trembles, and humiliation is written all over her face while she remains in a forced kneeling position.
She clenches her jaw as she glares at him.
“I'll pretend this blunt attack on my being didn't happen because I understand I threatened your loved one, youngling. I’ll even go so far as to say that I can respect your need to protect those you love, but don't mistake this act of kindness for weakness or think I'm on your side. If I wanted to, I could tear your shadows from your body, leaving you vulnerable, like a human, stripped of your magic. However, I do not quarrel with the witches, and my threat is a mere warning. Now get up.”
With a movement of his hand, she’s back on her feet, her legs unsteady like a newborn fawn.
She doesn’t dare to look at Reiner, avoiding his gaze.
Her embarrassment is palpable at how easily the Umbra subdued her.
She seems to realize she never stood a chance to begin with; the only thing she foolishly did was endanger herself and Reiner.
Caria swallows hard, and I can only imagine the scolding she’ll receive from the male witch once they return to their place.
“Your kind never should have seen the daylight,” she whispers sneeringly.
“Careful, witch, I might not be so forgiving the second time,” Emrys muses.
“Caria, shut your mouth,” Reiner hisses as he snatches her arm, dragging her behind him.
“Let's try this again, shall we?” Emrys says, and both witches look at him in defeat, a barely visible nod to acknowledge his question.
“Now, Fynn and his lovely friend, Jodelle. Let’s start there. Tell me everything that has happened over the last couple of days.”
Unfortunately, the conversation with the witches doesn’t provide us with much new information after they finally agreed to speak with us.
Yet Emrys could tell Caria and Reiner weren’t sincere; apart from their scent, their heartbeats were irregular, their breathing too fast, everything pointing toward their withholding of information.
Not that it matters. What they did tell us was valuable enough for the time being.
It gives us a new direction to follow—the witches my mother mingles with—leaving my brother and Jodelle for what it is right now.
Part of me is grateful that I can avoid Fynn for a little bit longer.
Not having to meet with my brother yet feels like a reprieve granted by fate.
This part of the city is new to me, never having ventured this far away from the inn.
It’s less frivolous than the city center, and features more regular housing with brick and wooden beams, as well as a simpler aesthetic.
This is where most night creatures and witches live.
The area is more affordable, and the farther we travel toward the coven we are searching for, the fewer vampires we encounter.
Witches also keep their distance from us, but they seem less afraid of Emrys, perhaps because their bloodlust is different from that of the vampires, more attainable.
Emrys still occasionally snarls at those who dare to trespass on us or come too close to me for his liking.
I am still an anomaly in their eyes, carrying cursed blood that is now purified—a hidden treasure out in the open.
I’m sure my blood will elevate their magic and spells.
Meeting Augustus earlier, we already established that my blood beckons to vampires to the extent that their minds become clouded near me, and they are willing to try to defy Emrys.
My organs and body parts will probably fetch a decent amount of money on the black market. It’s a sickening idea.
I can sense your anxiety. I assure you, no one will harm you. Would you like me to cover you, Tempest?
Feeling his thoughts brush against my mind is comforting, a touch that lifts my spirits.
I need to adjust to my new status. Despite your scent, I still feel fragile; the wanting, ogling eyes don’t go unnoticed, my love.
I’ll rip out every pair of eyeballs that make you feel threatened, Tempest. Just tell me.
I chuckle. “That’ll be a lot of eyeballs.”
He flashes me a grin, his sharp teeth shining.
“I’m at your command, my love.”
I know he’ll gracefully let his deeds echo the vows he makes, and I pull him a little closer.
“Covering me will suffice,” I say with a loving smile spread across my face.