Chapter 36 #2
Sam’s eyes blazed bright blue as he set the man down and gripped his nape. “Walk.” The Angel’s voice was deadly, and Rory’s mouth went dry. She’d never seen him like this.
“My apartment is a block away,” the man stammered. “I want to help her, not harm her.”
Sam’s grip loosened. “Take us.”
“You were ready to snap his neck three seconds ago,” Rory said, incredulous.
“He is telling the truth,” Sam replied. Angels can detect lies.
“What’s your name?” she asked the man.
“My name? Oh, right. You can call me Turney.” He jogged to keep up with Sam’s long gait, and before long, they arrived at a Crown-sanctioned housing complex.
Rory was disgusted at the condition it was in. Old wallpaper peeled off the walls in the hallways. The stairway railings were loose, and the carpet lining the floors was disgusting.
“I thought The Crown did the upkeep of sanctioned housing,” she said to no one in particular. No one deserved to live like this, no matter their financial status.
The anger on Sam’s face startled her. “They are supposed to.”
Her voice lowered so no one else could hear. “Caius said Gedeon cut funding to different assistance programs. How can he allow people to live in a place that should be condemned?”
Sam’s eyes moved over every inch of the building. “Gedeon must be stopped.”
She couldn’t agree more. Once they’d climbed three flights of stairs, Turney looked both ways as though someone would pop out and attack. He scurried down the hall and unlocked an old blue door, ushering them inside.
“Do you live with someone?” She looked at him expectantly. He seemed to be in his late forties, meaning his powers had not completely manifested yet, but would soon. If he was a Sibyl, he needed care on his bad days.
Shaking his head, he disappeared through a door in the tiny hallway.
She looked at Sam. “He can’t be alone on his bad days.
” Something in her panicked for the man.
They had no relation, but no one deserved to be alone while locked within their own mind.
He could hurt himself or become an easy target.
“I will make a call this evening to arrange care,” he promised her, and her shoulders drooped with relief.
When they followed the Sibyl into the room, Rory swallowed a gasp. There were words and drawings covering the walls. Papers with things scratched in illegible handwriting and torn out book pages were pinned everywhere.
Her mouth opened as she inched closer. Some of the drawings were of her. She snatched one from the wall and shook it at him. “What is this?”
Turney turned to her. “I have seen you for years,” he said, waving his hand haphazardly in the air as he shuffled around the room.
“What is the meaning of this?” Sam asked as his keen eyes examined the room.
Turney whirled on them and pointed at Rory. “The Umbra Queen will die unless the day is destroyed.”
Sam and Rory traded a quick glance. “My mother is a Sibyl. She predicted my death unless the Umbra King breaks out of Vincula in time.” Did Turney see something different?
He shook his head wildly. “The day will disappear, or you will die.”
“Do you mean to say she will live if she is attacked at night?” Sam asked as he studied the walls.
Turney’s agitation was obvious in the way he moved around the room. “You are not listening. The day will disappear.”
“Does the sun explode?” Rory joked under her breath. She was beginning to think coming here was pointless. His visions were as clear as a brick wall.
He crossed the room and reached for her shoulders, but Sam grabbed him. “Do not touch her.”
The man’s eyes were wild. “The light will no longer shine on our realm,” he stressed. “It will shine from it.”
Sam eyed him. It was the first sign he’d given that the weirdness of it all affected him, too.
Turney’s eyes glazed over, and he looked at Rory in a daze. “He fills himself with poison, eating the light,” he murmured. “And the sun explodes.”
Rory narrowed her eyes. Was he fucking with them? He said the sun didn’t explode.
He turned in a daze and grabbed a marker from the floor before approaching a wall.
“He fills himself with poison, eating the light, until the son explodes.”
“Son?” Rory read. Not sun. Son.
Sam’s eyes slid to her midsection before meeting her own.
Her hand flew to her stomach. It couldn’t be.
She was pretty sure she couldn’t get pregnant until Caius passed his throne to the new Umbra Royal.
Kids weren’t something she’d thought about.
Hell, she didn’t even think she wanted kids, and now her stomach might explode? No fucking way.
Turney continued to write. “The son will save her.”
“Only the golden child can save you,” she whispered to Sam, gripping his arm.
Sam showed no reaction other than the corners of his eyes tightening. She rushed to the messy desk and searched for a blank piece of paper and something to write with to jot down the prophecy.
Turney dropped the marker and stumbled back as he read what he wrote. He looked over his shoulder at Sam with clarity. “She will die by the Lux King’s hand if the son is not found in time.”
“Thank the Seraphim,” Rory breathed. Her stomach wasn’t going to blow up if they had to find whatever son he spoke of.
Turney left the room and went about his business as if they were no longer there. Rory and Sam made to leave, but she stopped and turned to the Sibyl. “Thank you.”
The man ignored her, and she shrugged. Once she and Sam were in the hall, the lock clicked.
“How did he move that fast?” she asked, staring at the door. He’d been across the room.
Sam grabbed one of her shoulders and guided her toward the staircase. “It is not important. We need to go home.”
“I’m still hungry,” she protested.
His mouth jerked to the side. “I will make you an egg smoothie.”
Gagging, she followed him out of the building, wondering what had just happened.
Rory stood in the middle of Turney’s apartment on a field of wildflowers. Their soulscape was at Turney’s place? Interesting.
“There’s my favorite girl,” Caius’ silky voice said from behind her.
A smile spread across her face, and when she turned, her breath caught. He was shirtless in pajama pants, and black veins covered his arms and torso like tattoos. It was hot as fuck.
“What is this?” She ran her hands over his chest, and his pec jumped under her touch.
He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the inside of her wrist. “They are nothing to be concerned with.” Bringing her to his chest, he descended on her lips. “Fuck, you taste sweet,” he groaned into her mouth and swept his tongue against hers.
Her mind went foggy as she lost herself in him. Slowly, he ran a hand down her side toward the waistband of her sleep shorts. She leaned back to look at him, and her eyes caught on their surroundings.
“Stop.” She placed her hand on his chest. “We need to talk.”
The arrogant mask he wore conveyed nothing as he checked out the apartment. “Where are we?”
“That’s what we need to talk about.” She started toward Turney’s prophecy-filled room, and Caius followed close behind.
Once inside, he looked around silently, approaching the closest wall to read the random thoughts. Snatching a sketch of her off the wall, he spun around in a fury. “Is someone stalking you?”
Rory’s mouth fell open as the veins on Caius’ chest crawled toward his neck, and his golden eyes darkened.
“Caius, stop,” she pleaded. What was happening to him?
Following her gaze, he glanced down at his chest and closed his eyes briefly, stopping the marks from spreading. Not tattoos.
The words scribbled on the adjacent wall jumped out at her, and she couldn’t form a coherent sentence.
He was across the room in a flash, and his hands snaked around her neck to cup the sides of her jaw, rubbing tenderly to soothe her. “I’m fine.” He grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest. The skin was hot, and it did nothing to calm her.
“He fills himself with poison,” she recited with a trembling lip. Fear slammed into her. His darkness is poison.
“Poison? What are you talking about?” His eyes searched hers.
She could only point at the wall behind her. Was she losing him? Her mother warned her, as did Turney. She didn’t care that he might not save her, but she cared if he died. He couldn’t go to the aether before her; she wouldn’t survive losing him again.
“What are you doing to yourself?” She tried to regain control of her emotions, reminding herself that he was here and whole. “Whatever it is you’re doing, stop.”
“A Sibyl lives here,” Caius surmised as he read the prophecy Turney scribbled on the wall earlier that day.
“Yes, and he said you’re filling yourself with poison, just like my mother did.
” She placed a hand on his shoulder and prompted him to look at her.
“Please. You can’t save me if you’re dead.
” Being saved was the last thing on her mind.
She could save herself, but appealing to his protective side was the only thing she could think to do.
“You would risk destroying yourself and leaving me to fight Gedeon alone?”
The roots climbed up his neck and teased the bottom of his jaw. Whatever coursed through him was connected to his anger, and she made it worse. “Calm down. I’m fine,” she said, repeating his words as she grabbed his hand and pressed it to her chest.
His eyes brightened, and he pressed his forehead to hers. “I know these scare you, but they prove I’m getting stronger. Every time they grow, I create a larger object than before.”
The look of the veins didn’t bother her, but the implications of what they meant did. Her eyes tracked over every inch of his torso. “Explain.”
“The shadows I control created the realms,” he explained. “Cat discovered the story in an old storybook, and Sam confirmed it.”
“Okay.” She wasn’t following.