Chapter 38 Jules
Jules
I don’t stop dragging Hanna until the heavy bedroom doors close behind us with a decisive thud.
Only then do I let her and Mr. Mittens go.
My cat slips out of my arms and goes to explore, sniffing curiously at his new surroundings.
Hanna stumbles a step, then spins in a slow circle, staring at everything at once—the towering four-poster bed draped in crimson satin…
the thick carpets muffling sound beneath our feet…
the floor-to-ceiling scarlet curtains framing tall gothic windows that glow faintly with the light of the Bleeding Court beyond—she takes it all in.
The ruby-crystal chandelier overhead casts a warm red gleam over everything, turning the room intimate and surreal.
Seeing the strange surroundings through her eyes is like seeing it all fresh for the first time. It feels like a dream…or maybe a nightmare.
I cross the room and drop into my favorite chair by the fire—the big one that seems to cradle me just right, like it was made for my body. The flames crackle softly, sending warmth over my skin.
“Come sit,” I offer, motioning to the chair beside me. “We need to talk.”
Hanna comes over to the chair, but she seems too nervous to sit. She starts pacing instead, hands flying as she talks, scrubs whispering with every frantic stride.
“Okay,” she says, sounding breathless. “Okay, no. Nope. You don’t get to just drag me out of a dinner with a walking skeleton deer-man and then not explain anything.”
I rub my temples.
“Hanna, breathe. I’m trying to explain. We’re in the Shadow Realm.”
She takes a jagged breath and runs her hands through her curls.
“The Shadow Realm? What the hell, Jules? Is this where you’ve been all this time? We’ve been so worried about you! You didn’t answer any of your phone calls or texts. You haven’t sent anyone a funny meme for ages.”
“So you came to my apartment to check on me?” I guess. Hanna has one of my spare keys. Tasha has the other one.
“Yes, because your apartment isn’t far from my work, so I was closest,” Hanna says. “I knocked and knocked, but you weren’t there. But I could hear Mr. Mittens meowing his head off.”
I glance down at Mr. Mittens, who has settled in front of the fire and is currently licking his paw with intense focus, completely unbothered.
“He had almost run out of food,” Hanna says, nodding at him. “He’d eaten nearly everything from the automatic feeder—I guess he managed to knock it over somehow. There was kibble everywhere. And water all over the floor too.”
I frown at my cat.
“You’re going to have a tummy ache,” I tell him sternly. “I hope Whistler remembered to bring your litter box.”
Mr. Mittens flicks an ear at me and continues washing himself.
“Whistler?” Hanna asks sharply. “Is that his name? The weird guy who grabbed me?”
I nod.
“Yeah, that’s him. He brought me over too.” I lean forward. “How did it happen for you? Did he just… appear in my apartment?”
“Kind of…” Hanna frowns, her eyes going distant.
“I heard this scratching sound coming from your bedroom. And I had this horrible thought—” Her voice wobbles.
“That maybe you’d been attacked. That you were tied up back there or something and that’s why you hadn’t been answering any of our calls or texts. ”
My stomach drops at her words. That is an awful thought—but not nearly as strange as the truth.
“So I went to open the bedroom door,” she continues, “But it didn’t lead to the bedroom.”
I sit up straighter.
“Let me guess—instead you saw a long hallway?”
Her eyes widen.
“Yes! Exactly.”
“That’s what happened to me, too,” I tell her. “Only for me, it was in my bathroom—not the living room.”
“God, Jules.” Hanna lets out a shaky laugh. “That actually makes me feel a tiny bit better. I thought I was losing my mind.”
She starts pacing again, clearly unable to stand still.
“So before I can even process what I’m seeing, this Whistler guy is there. He’s gathering up all of Mr. Mittens’ stuff—his bowls, his toys—even his scratching post—and shoving everything into this weird black sack.”
“A sack?” I ask, frowning. “But how could he fit everything in one sack?” I’m a good cat mom—Mr. Mittens has enough toys and accoutrements for five cats. There’s no way all of it would fit in a single sack—not even an industrial sized garbage bag.
“I don’t know.” Hanna shrugs. “But he made it fit. It never got any bigger, either ” she adds. “No matter how much he put into it. It was like he had his own personal black hole or something and he was just shoving everything into it.”
“It’s probably part of his magic or something,” I mutter. I make a mental note to ask Lucian more about exactly how Realm-Hoppers work and how they’re able to transport people and things between the Human world and the Shadow Realm.
“I was holding Mr. Mittens,” Hanna continues.
“Because I scooped him up, meaning to get away, you know? But it all happened so fast and it felt so unreal—like maybe I was dreaming. So when that weird Whistler guy finally turned to me, I didn’t do anything—I just stared at him.
” She shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know why I didn’t just run out the front door. I just… froze.”
“It felt like a dream to me, too,” I say, trying to comfort her.
“Well it felt like that until he touched me, anyway,” Hanna says. “But the second he touched my arm, it was like my self-preservation instinct finally kicked in and I tried to bolt.”
“What did he do?” I ask, worried for her.
“He said something like, ‘I don’t think so, girly.’” Hanna shudders. “Then he grabbed Mr. Mittens, took me by the arm, and dragged me through the door into that weird hallway.”
My jaw tightens and I feel so bad for her. None of this is her fault. It’s all on me and I feel awful about it, even though it’s not really my fault either.
“I broke free for a minute,” she says. “I ran back toward the living room—but it was gone. Just…gone. There was nothing there except that hallway—it was endless. There were no doors and no windows. Just that long stretch of hall.”
“It happened to me too, when I tried to get back,” I tell her. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“I didn’t either.” She wraps her arms around herself. “That’s when he said, ‘You’d best come with me, girly—if you don’t want to be caught in the In-Between.’”
The In-Between. The phrase sends a chill down my spine.
“So what did you do?” I ask, though I can already guess.
“I went with him.” Hanna shrugs helplessly. “I didn’t know what else to do. And he had Mr. Mittens—I wasn’t going to let him get away with stealing your cat.” She lets out a humorless huff. “I had no idea he was taking us to a whole other world.”
“You’re right,” I say softly. “It really is a whole other world—or a whole other Realm, I guess.”
Hanna looks at me then, really looks at me, like she’s seeing me for the first time.
“I’m so sorry, Jules. I didn’t mean to get so upset. It’s just…this is all so weird.”
I shake my head.
“No. I’m the one who’s sorry. Lucian was only trying to make me feel better by bringing Mr. Mittens. I’m sure he never meant for you to get caught up in all this.” I wave a hand, indicating our surroundings.
“But what is all this?” she asks, gesturing helplessly. “I mean… I feel like I’ve walked straight into a gothic vampire romance novel.”
“You’re close,” I say grimly. “Try a gothic vampire mafia romance novel.”
She blinks.
“A what?”
I scrub a hand over my face.
“Okay, let me try to explain. The Shadow Realm—which is the name for this whole world—is divided into different territories and each one is ruled by a Don. There’s a Vampire Don—that’s Lucian.
A Demon Don—I met him yesterday.” I shiver, remembering Kael.
“There’s also a Dragon Don, a Shifter Don, a Fae Don…
oh, and a Necromancer Don, who you already met,” I continue.
This time it’s Hanna’s turn to shiver.
“So…they each run a territory down here?” she asks.
I nod.
“Yeah—they seem to run things like crime families—there’s all kinds of alliances, rivalries, and power plays. You think of a plot point from a Mafia romance and they’ve got it.”
Her mouth opens…closes…and opens again.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I wish.” I sigh. “But you haven’t even heard the weirdest part yet.”
“What…weirder than being abducted into a Mafia Vampire romance?” she demands.
“Uh-huh.” I nod. “The strangest thing about this place is that women like you and me—curvy girls—are highly prized.”
Hanna frowns.
“Prized how?”
“They call us ‘Curvy Queens,’” I say. “Apparently, having more body—more flesh—means more magic. More power. Or something like that. I had someone tell me why each separate Syndicate would want me—or any curvy girl—but I can’t remember all of it.
Only that over here, curvy girls are like trophy wives. ”
Hanna stares at me.
“You’re telling me that over here my big hips and wide behind are a hot commodity?”
“Welcome to the Shadow Realm,” I say, shrugging. “But it gets worse—we’re so prized over here that the Magistrate actually outlawed us.”
“They who?” Hanna asks, looking confused.
“He’s this big, scary guy who polices the whole realm,” I explain. “Apparently, there have been wars fought over Curvy Queens in the past. He’s trying to keep the peace by keeping anyone who isn’t a skinny-minny out because otherwise, all the men would fight over us.”
Hanna goes pale.
“Is…is that why that skull-faced guy was so interested in me?”
“Probably.” I nod. “They all want us. I tried to escape and ended up in the Carnal Bazaar with the Demon Don—Kael—yesterday. “He was determined to keep me—Lucian had to pay a price to get me back.”
Her eyes flick to the door. “And Lucian is…?”
“The Vampire Don,” I say. “He’s the ruler here in The Bleeding Court—the Vampire part of the Shadow Realm. Apparently he saw me through some kind of magic mirror and decided I was the one for him. So he sent Whistler in disguise to take some of my blood—”
“Wait—so he’s the one who had you drug tested?” Hanna interrupts. I had been bitching about the “drug test” to everyone at Book Club, so of course she knew.
“Uh-huh.” I nod. “Apparently because I’m a certain kind of ‘Curvy Queen’ my blood has this special ingredient.
Sanguis Vita or something like that. Lucian wants it to help cure some kind of family curse, but he also really loves my curves.
Like really loves them,” I confide in her, feeling my cheeks get hot as I remember how his big hands roved over my body last night, making me come again and again.
“That’s just…all of this is so crazy,” Hanna bursts out.
“Tell me about it,” I say. “It’s bizarre, but I’m trapped here. I feel like I fell into the pages of the book I was reading and got stuck.”
She exhales shakily.
“I always thought Book Club might get wild,” she murmurs. “But this feels like a lot.”
I huff a tired laugh.
“Tell me about it. I still can’t believe it myself. I’m still pinching myself to be sure I’m not dreaming because—”
But before I can finish my thought, the bedroom door opens.
Lucian enters first, tall and commanding, followed by Don Malthus, his shadowy robes whispering as he glides inside.
Hanna stiffens at once and goes to stand beside my chair, her eyes wide.
Lucian inclines his head.
“My apologies for interrupting your reunion, ladies but Don Malthus wished to say goodbye.”
The Necro Don approaches Hanna once more. I would say his eyes are intent as he stares at her—if I could see any eyes in those hollow sockets.
“I will not forget you, my lovely one,” he murmurs. “The next time I come to collect a soul, I will be looking for you.”
Hanna shivers and goes pale. I’m afraid for a minute she might actually faint…but she lifts her chin and I see defiance spark in her eyes.
“You can look all you want—I’m not interested,” she says firmly.
Malthus studies her with something like regret.
“You are beautiful with your full curves and your hair like fire—a woman like you could warm even the coldest bones. Would you like to visit the Ossuary Circle before you leave the Shadow Realm?”
“No,” she says sharply. “Absolutely not.”
I wonder if her sharp retort will offend the Necro Don. Most men get upset when you turn them down so bluntly. But he only sighs.
“Too bad…I would have treasured my own Curvy Queen.” He extends one long-fingered, skeletal hand. “I can offer pleasures no mortal can, you know—feasts that taste of the finest memories…wine that makes the heart weep with joy… and sexual release that brings you to the peak again and again.”
Hanna puts a hand on her hips.
“Excuse me?”
His skull tilts and I can almost see a sly grin on the skull mask.
“You heard me, lovely one. The French call orgasm la petite mort—the little death. Does that not give you an idea of what I offer?”
Hanna’s cheeks get red, but she crosses her arms over her breasts protectively and shakes her head.
“Sorry. Not interested.”
Don Malthus pauses for a moment, as though considering her rejection. At last, he nods.
“Very well,” he murmurs. “Until we meet again—though you will likely not see me.”
And then he glides out of the bedroom door.
The room feels warmer once he’s gone and I exhale shakily.
“Whew!”
“Well,” Hanna says faintly. “This is officially the weirdest week of my life.”
Mr. Mittens hops into my lap and begins to purr. And somehow, despite all the weirdness, that feels like the most normal thing in the world.
But I have to wonder—now that Hanna’s here, how is she ever going to get home? For that matter, how am I going to get home?
I have no answers—only more questions.