Chapter 15
Forbidden Entanglement
FYNN
For now, I have forsaken the notion of tracking down Harlot, albeit my mind urges me to find her, to wrap my hands around her neck, and throttle her.
I want to watch her face turn a dark purple, her eyes darting around until no more life can be found.
I need to hear her last gasp as she takes her final breath and dies in my hands.
Her head lolling to the side and her neck covered in the dark bruising of my fingers; that’s what I envision; that is what I dream of.
The thoughts conjure no emotions; I feel nothing, and I have no remorse or guilt.
I look at Jodelle, who has her forehead pressed against the window as she stares outside through the fogged glass; she’s becoming restless, being locked away in this room for days straight.
Without me by her side, it’s not safe for her to roam the streets.
Mother rarely shows her face, unwilling to share a space with Jodelle unless absolutely necessary, and I lost faith that she was looking for a permanent place to stay a while ago.
I fail even to foresee a future where the four of us could live.
The moment Harlot comes home without that monstrosity attached to her hip, we’ll only need a place for three to live.
I wonder if Harlot is aware that every breath she takes could be her last. This inn provides a roof over our heads, but it is far from being a true residence.
We’ve stayed at more horrific lodgings that felt like an actual home.
“Let's find my mother, my beloved; it’s time you get an opportunity to stretch your beautiful legs,” I say with a grin.
Jodelle tears her eyes from the window, leaving small condensation clouds on the glass, and looks at me excitedly.
“Really, Fynn? I could use a stroll outside.”
I stretch out my hand, and she braids her fingers through mine, a firm hold. Together, we go downstairs, and I don’t even dare look at Caria after my sexual fantasies lately. I hear her voice saying hello, and I give a quick wave, barely acknowledging her as I drag Jodelle outside.
We zigzag through the maze of narrow alleys and streets.
It’s the first time I’ve delved this deeply into the city.
I usually only entertain the west side, which leads to the large square and gate through which you enter and leave.
The further we stray from the center, the older the houses and streets get, and parts of the city are overgrown by plants and roots.
Vines slowly overtake the abandoned buildings, and creepers spread across the walls, giving the town a wild, untamed look.
Uneven cobblestones form a path for us to follow.
Spectators eye us cautiously, yet none of them scurry out of our way like I’m used to.
Only when I am too near will the darklings step aside, as if the Aurum affects the citizens here less than in the center.
Perhaps they wield different kinds of magic here?
I swallow down the dread that bubbles up to the surface.
I try to recall the last few days and discern the changes in my behavior lately.
I blame it on my lowering my guard because of Caria, but being here, I realize there seems to be something off with the magic.
Yet, if I have learned one thing from befriending a Blood Witch, night creatures can smell every change on you, sometimes, even unconsciously, which will lure them out.
I smile at Jodelle, who seems to be enjoying herself but does not notice the changed behavior in this part of town.
I carefully observe every creature that we come across, making sure none of them dare to trespass and try to attack us. I straighten my shoulders and walk a little taller, feigning confidence, hoping it will keep them at a distance.
I ponder why Mother would travel this far into the city, what motivates her to go here almost every day, drag those damn books with her, and return late at night.
She slips into and out of bed, believing neither of us notices.
I do my best to look into every house and place we pass to see if my mother is inside by any chance.
While I search for my mother, I keep an eye on our surroundings.
We are the odd ones out here, as evidenced by the curious looks we receive.
“The boy with the Aurum and… another human. Unprotected, you bring this fair maiden here? What a stupid trade you made, a useless human instead of a fickle youngling Death Witch.”
The familiar voice makes my neck hairs prick up, and a shiver runs down my spine.
I spin on my heel and face the vampire who just spoke to me, the one who goes by the name Lucian.
The vampire I encountered during my return to the city after my fruitless search for the fortress to which my sister had disappeared.
My fucking sister. Harlot... If I could, I would throw her into a vampire den for them to maul and maim her flesh to shreds.
The cries I imagine Harlot would make soothe my mind.
I instinctively pull Jodelle behind me, thinking about the power a vampire could unleash on her.
I tell Jodelle to stay there under any circumstances.
“Lucian, what a coincidence meeting you here,” I respond calmly, addressing the vampire.
He cackles, the sound shrill. “Drop the facade, boy; I can hear your thundering heartbeat. I can smell the unease on both of you. The fear of the girl is especially delicious,” he says, licking his lips as he speaks.
Jodelle clings to me as the vampire circles us, as a hunter would its prey.
Lucian inhales intently and cocks his head as he exhales.
He takes a wary step closer and continues to stalk toward us until we are almost shoulder to shoulder.
He moves his head from side to side as he glowers at me.
Suddenly, he puts his nose up in the air and whiffs.
The abrupt movement freezes me for a split second, and Lucian tsks at me.
“Your protection is weakening, boy; what happened to the Aurum? I can smell it on you, but it’s becoming more… faint,” he whispers with interest.
I stare at him, stupefied, letting his words sink in, trying to recall if I heard him correctly.
“I can still kill you if I like, regardless of whether the magic is less present,” I threaten.
“I’m not interested in that boy; it’s your Aurum that fascinates me. Why is it different now?” he presses.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, bloodsucker; just let us be,” I hiss.
Without thinking, I brush past the vampire, bumping into his shoulder, an act that should have blasted him away.
Instead, he barely winces. I pretend it's intentional, telling him he won’t be as lucky the next time we cross paths.
I drag Jodelle along, increasing the distance between us and the peculiar vampire who stands still with no aspiration to come after us. Relieved, I sigh.
“He knows you! And that damn witch of yours,” Jodelle spits the moment she deems it safe.
“Calm down, please. I beg you. This is not a place to draw attention to ourselves,” I tell her, agitated as I look around us.
“Why is she always involved in your affairs somehow? Why?!” She continues to scream.
She crosses her arms as she glares at me. I curse Lucian for even showing up, but mainly for mentioning Caria, and I wonder if he could smell Jodelle's jealousy, if the prick did it on purpose.
“Fine, fuck, if you can’t let it go. I met him once before I even knew you existed; it was right after I searched for Harlot in that damn magical forest of yours that you love so much.
I couldn’t find my sister, so I returned to the city, and that damn vampire blocked my path and started questioning me about my magic.
It was Caria who scared him off with her shadows.
That’s all, it wasn’t that spectacular. Happy? ” I conclude.
“She seems to be conveniently around to save your ass every time you need it. I would almost believe it’s foul play,” she sneers.
“Can we please do this another time and refocus on finding my mother?” I sigh.
“Fine,” she grumbles.
“Great,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
We roam through the narrow, tapered streets in uncomfortable, sullen quiet, neither of us willing to break the silence first. I detest our childish quarrels, but can’t help myself; whenever she questions me, I feel this rooted desire to defy and provoke her.
It appears as if she’s experiencing the same, a hunger to fight, only to regret it moments later.
It is a repetitive and tiresome act, yet we persevere, reiterating the process.
A love fed by constant pull and push, a toxic love that I don’t want to stay away from.
Lost in my train of thought, I glance at every window we pass, trying to see a hint of my mother.
Promptly, Jodelle halts at an aged house, the brick crumbling, the roof in dire need of restoration.
It looks relatively deserted, unable to function as a residence.
She motions for me to come to her while she gestures to be quiet.
Stealthily, I creep toward her and squat down next to her.
“Look,” she whispers as she points to a window with broken glass.
Shards lie in front of it, and the glass in the window distorts the view. I get up and peek through the opening, where the glass is smashed, and there I witness my mother surrounded by several other women, all of them wearing markings like Caria’s.