Chapter 7
Dylan
Packing had to be my least favourite thing to do.
I’d had weeks to prepare for our trip up North, but found myself rushing to get everything in my bag in time before we departed. We’d even had a couple of extra days to prepare due to delaying our arrival after the bizarre attack the other night.
But I’d wasted most of my time the last few days trying to get answers about what exactly had happened to Zenn and me, with no success.
Grabbing a few thicker habits with sleeves from my armoire, I stuffed them into the bottom of my bag. When I turned back to retrieve a couple more, Zenn was leaning against the side of the cupboard.
“I swear to the Crewrs, Zenn, you keep sneaking up on me like that, you’ll send me to an early grave.”
Zenn pushed off the wall, throwing himself down on my bed. “Get your boots off my fucking bed,” I ground out.
“Sheesh, someone’s cranky.”
“Wouldn’t you be if you’d spent the last three days searching every corner of this country looking for Gwaun?”
From gods only know where, Zenn had produced a small shiv. He used it to pick at his teeth. “Still no sign of his most sinfulness?”
I perched on the end of the bed, kneading the tense muscles in the back of my neck. “None. I’ve visited every one of his dens three times; there’s no sign of him. If I didn’t know better, I would put money on him having disappeared from existence entirely.”
“What makes you so sure that he hasn’t?”
I lifted my palm. As if on cue, the scar down the centre pulsed with a faint silver light.
“Have you tried using that horrid contraption he gifted you once? You know, the bowl of blood.”
I grimaced, remembering I’d hidden it in a drawer of my bureau within minutes of opening the box.
“To be perfectly honest, I was trying to avoid using it at all costs.”
Zenn studied me, a softness to his expression I didn’t often get to see. “If you want answers, mate, then you’re going to have to try using it.”
As I started to feed his ego and tell him he was right, a rattle sounded from across the room.
Zenn’s face was just as perplexed as my own as I made my way to the source of the scratching.
“Ugh, you’ve got rats! I told you to stop leaving your dirty dishes in here.”
“It’s not a fucking rat, you idiot. What kind of rats do you know that vibrate like that?”
Zenn looked from the shaking drawer to me, then back to the drawer before he curled his lip in disgust.
“Ugh, is it one of your vibrators?”
I hooked my boot under the handle, kicking open the drawer in question.
Inside, a shallow gold bowl rolled from side to side frantically.
I reached to steady it, but it flew out of its own volition, landing on the desk.
From thin air, blood began to pool in the bottom.
Just when I thought the bowl would overflow with the crimson liquid, it stopped.
Zenn peered at the dish over my shoulder. “I knew you were into some freaky shit, my friend, but this—”
I pressed my finger to my lips, shushing Zenn. “It’s Gwaun.”
His eyes rounded, but he shifted closer, ever so slightly. “That’s what he gave you to contact him?”
I nodded. “I’ve never wanted to use it because it would require so much blood to activate. Wish I’d known it had a self-fill option.”
Right on cue, the mysterious blood in the bowl began frothing. When I thought it would spill over the edges, it coagulated, forming the shape of a bust. More blood congealed, revealing a detailed face. A face I knew very well.
Gwaun.
The makeshift eyelids the blood had formed shuddered open, pinning us both with a cold stare. When the bust spoke, Zenn nearly keeled over with disbelief.
“A little birdy told me you’ve been looking for me, Son of the Sea.”
There was nothing extraordinary about Gwaun. He was a mediocre-looking man in his fifties, average height with very forgettable features. His voice was steady, never wavered. But the things he had done, the atrocities I had seen him commit. The mere thought of them turned my stomach.
“You’re not an easy man to contact.” I fought against every instinct to keep my voice steady; this man thrived on people’s weaknesses.
His eyes—well, the bloody orbs that acted as his eyes—scanned the room. “And yet you were gifted an item that no other has the privilege of owning. A direct line of communication to me. Why didn’t you use it?”
Had it been anyone else I was talking to, I would have quipped back something smart about the blood being disgusting.
But this man—if that’s what you could call him—wasn’t capable of understanding the concept of humour.
Any insolence would be met with physical and mental torture. I’d learnt that lesson the hard way.
“Apologies, sir. It must have slipped my mind that it was in my possession.”
Gwaun was silent; for a moment, I thought the magic imbued in the bowl had failed. But when he cleared his throat, it startled me so that everything I needed to ask all came tumbling off my lips at once.
“The other night, we felt a pull. Was it you? Did you open a gateway? We would have answered your call immediately, but the physical effects were—”
A sharp pain, like a blade being drawn across my palm, interrupted my questioning. The scar flared silver, the perfect way for Gwaun to keep me obedient. Drain a little of my life source through the blood bargain whenever I asked a difficult question.
“It is no concern of yours when and where I choose to use the power I was gifted. As the Orddu, it is my divine right to open and close gateways as I see fit.”
I flicked my gaze to Zenn, whose jaw was clenched.
A muscle ticked as he bit back his words.
Gwaun had permitted him to be a silent participant during our conversations; he’d wanted Zenn to swear the same fealty oath I had.
But I’d been able to barter with Gwaun, instead offering more of myself to his service as payment.
I hadn’t regretted it for a second. Keeping Zenn out of his grasp had been worth it.
“Apologies, sir. We only wished to understand what happened the other night.” I hated how submissive I had to make myself to get even a scrap of information from this bastard.
“I care not if you and your Coven are unable to withstand the repercussions of my power.”
I bowed my head, fixing my gaze on the ground. “Understood, we won’t keep you, sir.”
When I looked back up, the blood clot that he used to communicate was still staring at me. “Well, aren’t you going to congratulate me?”
Congratulate him? For what, being the most heartless being I’d ever come across.
“I’m not following, sir.”
A cruel smile spread across his lips as he addressed Zenn. “I’m surprised. I would have thought the best spies this side of the realms would have told you the news. You ought to be ashamed, Wraith of the West.”
I looked over my shoulder at Zenn, who wore his usual mask of indifference. It was only when I noticed the slight twitch in his left eye, hardly noticeable, that I realised what Gwaun said was true. Zenn’s spies had missed something.
“A few days ago, it was brought to my attention that the child I believe I had sired some time ago does exist. A daughter, in fact. Looks like my intuition was correct. My mother has been keeping her hidden all these years, after all.”
Dumbfounded, I turned to Zenn, whose face was unreadable as usual. His eyes locked with mine but didn’t so much as blink. He was a man of few words anyway, but if he opened his mouth in the presence of Gwaun, it would be his blood filling the spelled bowl.
“Congratulations, sir. You must be, uh, thrilled.”
Gwaun’s lip pulled into a sneer. “I’ve yet to determine if she is of use to me. From what I’ve been able to gather, she’s about your age. No power has emerged. She’s also a wretched thing to look at. Must take after her mother, whoever she might be.”
I nodded along in disbelief, not only because Gwaun had actually found that long lost child he’d spilled so much blood trying to find, but because he’d known of her existence for days and already had determined he hated her.
“That brings me to the real reason I’m here.”
I felt the brush of Zenn’s hand against my own, a brief, barely there touch. His own way of saying I’m here, we can handle whatever he throws at us.
Thankfully, Gwaun didn’t notice our brief interaction. “I want her, and with the Anoethau taking place at Llwyn Onn, who better to have working with me to achieve that goal than you, Son of the Sea?”
Gods, I fucking hated it when he called me that.
“Successfully deliver her to me, and I will sever the blood bargain we made all those years ago.”
Cold sweat prickled my brow as my mind reeled from Gwaun’s offer. It wouldn’t just be freedom from his constant commands; it was a way out of the twisted loophole he’d trapped me in. If I was no longer bound to serve him for eternity, I could finally go home.
That promise had been the bait he’d caught me with.
Serve him as he saw fit, and so long as I fulfilled my duties, he’d send me home.
But I’d learned the truth quickly enough.
Gwaun had never intended to let me go, not even after my hands were stained with the blood of those he ordered me to kill.
As long as I remained shackled to this cursed bargain, home was nothing more than a memory long forgotten.