Chapter 36
ERDIKOA
A blanket hung over Rory’s head as she gripped a cup of coffee for dear life.
Keith, Kordie, Dume, and Sera left around eleven thirty that morning, and Rory had been too tired to move from the living room. Despite going to sleep at a decent time, she was exhausted.
It didn’t help that she woke up before dawn to puke before drifting back to sleep. Thanks to her hangover, their soulscape ended early last night.
She was pissed at herself for barely registering Sam’s arrival last night, and her eyes hadn’t moved from the stairs since she woke up.
The front door opened, and she jumped, spilling her coffee all over her legs. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
Sam snatched the blanket from her head and quickly wiped the scalding liquid from her skin.
His biceps bulged as he motioned to the coffee-stained chair. “You should be more care—”
He grunted when her entire body crashed into his with the force of her hug. He was so large that her hands barely met behind his back, but she squeezed anyway. “I can’t believe I forgot you,” she mumbled into his shirt before drawing back.
His mouth tugged to the side. “Do not be hard on yourself. I have a forgettable face.”
Rory shoved him as she laughed. “Who taught you how to tell jokes?”
White teeth flashed with his quick smile. “I am glad you are back,” he told her sincerely. “We need to talk.”
“Way to ruin the moment.” She sighed and fell back on the couch. “When did you go outside?”
“Before you and your friends rose,” he replied as he took a seat. “The weeds in the flowerbed needed to be pulled.”
A quick glance at his clothes confirmed he recently handled dirt, and she looked away to hide her smile. Weeding seemed mundane for a mystical being like the infamous Samyaza. Leaning back against the soft back of the chair, she shot him a tight-lipped smile. “Give me the bad news first.”
His forehead wrinkled. “What else would I give you?”
The blood drained from her face. “I can’t tell if you don’t know the phrase or if there isn’t any good news to give.”
“Both.”
“I’m going to need more coffee for this. Do you want any?” she asked as she padded across the room.
Sam leaned back and rested his ankle on the opposite knee. “No, thank you.” He didn’t drink coffee, other than the one Sera bought him when they went shopping. She’d spotted him through the window.
When she returned, she sat across from him and put her mug down. “Just rip the bandage off.”
His body went rigid, and he shot to his feet, rounding the coffee table between them. “Where are you hurt?” he asked as he lifted her arms to examine them.
She pawed at his hands and pushed him away. “Will you sit down? It’s a saying.”
“Then what is that?” he demanded as he zeroed in on her neck.
She tried looking down like an idiot. “What is what?”
Crouching down, he moved her hair and leaned in. “Who bit you?”
“What?” She covered the area and stood. “That’s not possible.”
Sam ducked as she hurtled over him and ran to the bathroom on the main floor. She pulled her hair back and stared at herself in the mirror. “Holy aether.”
Sam filled the doorway and shot her an accusatory glare. “You do not know who bit you? How drunk were you last night?”
She was too shocked to be offended. “Caius bit me.” Her eyes never left the bruise on the crook of her neck.
Sam’s hand covered her forehead, then moved to each of her cheeks before pinching the bottom of her earlobe.
She dodged his hand. “What are you doing?”
“Checking for fever.” She tried to protest, but he started searching her hair like a grooming monkey.
Slapping his hands away, she ducked under his arm to exit the bathroom. “Keep your banana hands to yourself. I’m not delusional.”
His face conveyed that he wasn’t kidding. He thought she had a head injury.
“He bit me in the soulscape last night,” she explained.
Sam studied the teeth marks, and she instinctively covered them with her hand.
The Angel’s silence was worse than his Mother Hen Mode. “Say something.”
“It seems if something happens to you physically in the soulscape, it stays with you,” he observed.
“You don’t say?” she deadpanned and pointed at her neck. “Did you not know this?”
“No.”
She waited for him to elaborate, but it was Sam. Elaboration was not in his vocabulary.
“What does this mean?” she tried again.
“It means you two should be careful where you mark each other.”
Her jaw fell open. “This isn’t funny! What’s gotten into you?”
“What would you like me to say?” he asked her honestly. “It does not matter as long as you do not kill each other.”
Thank the Seraphim Caius was stronger than her because she did try to kill him in one of their soulscapes.
“You already tried,” Sam guessed with a booming laugh before turning serious. “You need to train more.”
She sputtered out a laugh. Leave it to the commander to take offense at her failure to kill his best friend.
“We still need to talk,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.
What did they need to talk about? From the look he gave her, nothing good. Trailing behind him toward the living room, her mind ran through every bad thing that could have happened. With her luck, it was all of them.
“Just tell me,” she groaned.
“Adila cannot send you back to Vincula,” he informed her, sucking the wind from her sails. “It is not that she chooses not to; it is because that is not how her power works.”
Rory stared at him, unblinking. “What do you mean that’s not how her power works?”
Strands of blonde hair slipped free from his hair tie, framing his face. “She does not choose where people go. The Scales of Justice power does not allow her to. It decides, and she must obey.”
Rory’s mind was reeling. “Why are you speaking as though her power is a separate entity?”
“Because it is,” he replied flatly. “In a way. She cannot send you back unless you are on trial, and if you are on trial, you risk being sent to hell.”
“Even for something small, like punching Dume in the face?” she asked. He was an enforcer, and assaulting an enforcer would get her in front of the Scales of Justice.
Sam snorted. “You would punch your friend?”
“Yes.” Her reply was automatic, and his laugh shook the walls. “But only for something important,” she amended.
Still smiling, Sam shook his head. “As entertaining as that would be, it is unlikely you would be sent to Vincula a second time. Inmates do not get a second chance once they are back.”
Rory knew this, but she was Caius’ mate. That had to count for something.
“Not even an Aeternum,” Sam added.
Leaning forward, she studied him closely. “Can you read minds?” He ignored her, and the disappointing news about Adila sat on her shoulders like a weight. She wasn’t stupid enough to get herself arrested and risk hell. “There has to be another way.”
Sam stood and walked toward the stairs. “There is no other way, and going to The Capital will put you at greater risk of being discovered by Gedeon.”
“Where are you going?” she demanded. “We’re in the middle of an important conversation.”
He pointed to his dirty jeans. “I need a shower, and this conversation is over. You cannot reenter Vincula. What more is there to say?”
She threw her hands up. “I don’t know, but people don’t just get up and leave in the middle of a conversation.”
“But the conversation was finished.” He looked genuinely confused, and she gave up.
“Go shower.” Before walking away, she called after him, “Don’t forget to use your strawberry mango conditioner!”
He gave her his back and raised his middle finger in the air as he ascended the stairs.
Later that evening, Rory and Sam went to a local pasta spot for dinner. It sounded like a good idea until they stood in front of the restaurant, and she remembered Caius taking Nina on a date in Vincula.
“Why do you look like that?” Sam asked her.
“You need to learn to rephrase your questions,” she muttered. “Can we eat somewhere else?”
The Angel glanced between her and the restaurant. “You wanted to eat here. I see no threat inside. What is the problem?”
“Bad memories,” was all she replied. It was enough for him, and he held out his arm as if to say, ‘lead the way.’
As they walked down the street, people stared at Sam. The last thing they needed was unwanted attention.
“Can’t you shift into something?” she hissed. “Everyone is staring at you.”
Sam looked around and flashed a charming smile at the two women ogling at him from across the street. “I am considered handsome.”
Rory couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing. “We need to work on your social skills. You don’t go around telling people how good-looking you are.”
He glanced sideways at her. “You would rather I lie?”
The Angel was hopeless. Rory spotted a pet store up ahead and pointed. “I’ll buy you a collar and leash if you’ll shift into one of those little dogs that hates everyone. No one would look at you then.”
“I am not the one who wears a collar in my relationships.”
She choked on air. “I don’t want to know how you fuck.”
“I said nothing about fucking.” The smirk on his face said otherwise.
“Umbra Queen,” a frantic man whisper-yelled as he ran up to the two, making Rory jump back. Sam snatched him up by the throat.
The man looked about ten years younger than her parents, with dark, thinning hair and sallow skin. His eyes were wide as they bore into hers. He didn’t seem to notice Sam dangling him in the air.
People stared and whispered to one another. They didn’t need the attention, and she placed a hand on Sam’s arm. “Everyone is staring. We need to leave.”
His hand squeezed, and the man finally realized he was being choked. “Please,” he pleaded. “I have seen her, just as I have seen him. He will ink the sky.” His ramblings were familiar, and she didn’t need to see his mark to know he was a Sibyl.
A crowd gathered, and Rory tugged on Sam’s arm that held the man. “We need to go. Now. Bring him with us.”