Chapter 24
Sam
Blood was pretty hard to get out of your hair after it dried. Then there were the nailbeds and literally every crevice my body had. I wasn’t complaining. The whole thing was hot as fuck and worth it. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel bad about it either. I was past wondering about that. I was mated to Hemlock Giudice, for fuck’s sake.
Wrapping my hair in a towel, I slipped past Lock where he was still brushing his teeth. The way his eyes followed me made me think he was considering fucking me again. Three times should have been enough tonight, although I could probably go for one more.
No, there were more important things to do. I needed to train and since I wasn’t sure if I had a teacher anymore, I needed to be diligent. Self-motivation was not a strength I possessed, but I would manage.
A pulse in my chest made my breath catch. I put a hand where my heart no longer beat, trying to read into the feeling, but it didn’t come with a summary. All I could do was sit around and worry like a mother hen. I’d never wanted kids, god damnit.
Stepping into the living room, I realized why I had such a strange feeling. A tall figure was lying on the couch with his arm thrown over his eyes, his long brown hair loose. He was wearing a t-shirt, so his extensive network of floral tattoos were visible. I was more surprised to see that he was wearing sweats and no shoes.
“Um, hi?” I greeted.
He waggled his fingers in a half-hearted wave but didn’t make any other move.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. When I moved in front of the couch, he turned his head toward me, but didn’t remove his arm.
“I’m supposed to train you, remember?”
His slurred words made me groan. I barely had the capacity to take care of myself right now, let alone a damaged, drunk vampire with the ability to melt things. If he and Lock got into it while he was in this state, I didn’t know what would be left of this place or my mate, though I wouldn’t tell him that I knew he’d lose. He was still touchy about it. Even now, I could hear him grumbling and trying to talk himself out of coming out here and ‘sending that fucking Charizard into space.’
“You’re not in any shape to train me. I don’t even think you should be using magic.”
“I’d have a better grasp on my magic on acid than you do sober.”
“Mm. Rude. Maybe you should have some coffee and a cold shower.”
“That would defeat the purpose of this,” he said, holding up a bottle in his free hand.
I swiped it from him and wrinkled my nose. “You’re kidding, right?”
Finally, he moved his arm away from his face. It was an effort not to gasp at how haggard he looked. Had he been drunk since I saw him half a day ago?
“Give me back my drink,” he demanded.
“Fireball is hardly a drink. It’s like chewing on fire ants.”
“That’s disgusting and how would you know that?”
“We’re not talking about me. I don’t think you’re here to train, so why don’t you scoot over and spill the beans?”
“I have no interest in spilling anything.”
“So, you’re sending out distress signals for no reason.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did. Come on, Raf.”
With a sigh, he sat up and moved to the edge of the couch. I sat beside him, pulling my legs up and turning to face him. Lock was standing just inside the hall, watching us. I shook my head at him and he threw his hands in the air before marching back to the room.
“Give me the bottle and I’ll consider talking,” Raf said, holding out his hand.
Reluctantly, I handed it to him, watching as he took a long drink.
“How much have you had?”
His eyes rolled up to the ceiling as he thought about it. “I think I had four of these.”
“So, enough to kill a man.”
“A lesser man.”
“You know, you and Lock are more similar than you think. Maybe you’d get along if you stopped considering murdering each other.”
“I’d rather join another cult.”
“Was it a legitimate cult?”
He shrugged. “Not Jim Jones style. I guess it was more of a commune. They were Christian of the extreme variety, like where you’re from if it was more organized.”
“Does it still exist?”
“No.”
“I see. Did you ever go back after you changed?”
“Let’s not talk about where I’m from. It’s not important.”
“Okay. Then, you lead the conversation.”
“It’s not like you ever listen anyway.”
“I listen. I just don’t follow directions well.”
He didn’t react to my joking tone or my teasing smile. Instead, he polished off the rest of his fifth and dropped his head to the back of the couch.
“Iraivan.”
I cocked my head. “Lock said that translates to god or something.”
“There are different names for what they were before. This… person, they use the word because it’s the language of their homeland. It may be the oldest known moniker, at least that has been passed down. They did exist elsewhere, but we’ll probably never know what they were called in those places.”
“This person is one of us, then.”
He laughed, surprising me. “No, Sam. She’s not.”
“Tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Okay, then let’s talk about what’s in your head.”
His jaw ticked. “When I was younger, I met someone that was interested in what I am. Obviously, this was before I manufactured that pill to find people like us. Our kind becomes rarer with every generation and to find one, you might as well point at a map and cross your fingers.”
“How’d they find you?”
“I wasn’t exactly well-controlled at the time. It wasn’t hard for someone that was looking. After Liah changed me, I left her behind and told her I had no interest in helping with her little maniac.”
The huff from down the hall made me smile. “Go on.”
“I thought I was following someone that could finally understand me and maybe they’d be like family to me. I was young and na?ve, still pained by everything that happened back home. It was more of a trap, though. Long story short-”
“I want the long story,” I interrupted.
“Too bad. Long story short, I was given two choices. Help them find more or die.”
“But why?”
“I can’t get into it, but clearly I chose the former. For a while, I still thought there was something noble about what I was doing. It was almost like I belonged. After being excommunicated from my home, then waking as a vampire and again finding myself different, this felt right.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I grew up, started to see things for what they were. When I went to school, I began to realize that I could still be part of the world and it didn’t matter if I was human or vampire, magic or no magic. I’d never had much of a chance to acclimate to the real world. After leaving my home, I lived on the streets and only experienced the worst it had to offer.
“Even so, it didn’t matter much because I couldn’t do anything about my circumstances. When it came down to it, I was working for them, but I still had a good deal of freedom. Enough to have a life, get a degree I’d never use, make friends. Then, you happened.”
My breath caught. “The cellar.”
“What I felt that night was terrifying, yet exhilarating. That sense of belonging I thought I found all those years ago was nothing compared to the connection that woke between us. Again, though, I couldn’t change what I was already bound to, so I left you alone. Fate is a fucking bitch for mating you to Lock.”
“Maybe it’s been trying to guide us to each other this whole time. I’m not a religious person, but there’s obviously something that exists within us that can’t be explained, so I’m not writing it off.”
“I don’t have any doubt that it’s trying to push us into this, but the point is that it doesn’t matter.”
“Because you don’t want this thing to find me.”
“It’s more than that. You think that we stand a chance if we band together and act like some united Nexus, but it’s a double-edged sword. Yes, we would be more powerful. If we fail, though, they get not just you, but two parts of a circle together.”
Putting two fingers to my temples, I tried to process everything he was saying.
“Can’t you give me more than this?” I asked.
“I am bound to it, in a way.”
“Does this thing have a name? I’m getting lost with all this vague shit.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said softly, his eyes darting to the sides as if something would step out of thin air. Hell, maybe it would. This could be some ‘He Who Shall Not Be Named’ level shit.
“You’ve said ‘she’, but there are more of them?”
“Let’s just say she’s not alone.”
Raf stretched his legs out onto the coffee table. He looked so tired, I wanted to tell him to take a nap.
“You’re bound to her,” I prompted.
“It’s like obsequium, but not from blood submission. This is a voluntary pact that essentially makes us a circle, but it’s not nearly as powerful. I’m better able to resist it, like I am right now, but it’s by no means easy and every second I defy it, I risk her finding out.”
Something in my chest felt hot. This thing had wrapped itself around Raf’s magical brain stem and tried to claim him as her own. She wanted him to submit and serve, regardless of his own desires. It was that or death. The thought of that had my breaths coming faster.
“Sam.” Raf touched my hand, then hissed and pulled back.
I focused on him and saw that his hand was bright red. Grabbing it, I felt panic rise in my chest at how cold it was.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he assured me. The skin warmed again and I squeezed him tighter. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. The thought of what this is doing to you…”
“Aw, you feeling protective of me, Sam?”
His lighthearted tone helped me to relax. It was almost like before, when he annoyed the hell out of me in Colorado, except this time I didn’t feel that way. A sense of companionship had grown between us since we’d been here. Maybe it had started when I first woke up in the tower and he helped me.
It didn’t matter if he continued to fight this connection or that he was bound to someone else. He belonged to me in some way and I had no interest in just letting him go. We were both born for this, for each other, similar to how Lock and I were. This wasn’t attraction or lust, even when our energy tried to push us together that way. We were simply kindred, two parts of a whole.
“She can’t have you,” I stated firmly.
“She already does.”
“Nope. Tell me this. If you didn’t have some bullshit deal with her, would you be part of this circle with me?”
“We can’t do anything about it, Sam.”
“Answer the question. Would you do this with me, Seraphim?”
“Without hesitation.”
I smiled and got to my feet. “Perfect. Then, we’re going to find a way to make it happen. If I have to go give that bitch a piece of my mind, I will do just that.”
“You’re not going to mouth off to Seraphim’s long distance brain worm,” Lock said, joining us in the living room. He passed me a bottle of blood, then held one out to Raf, not bothering to conceal his scowl.
“Look at us. Bonding over bottles of blood. It’s the beginning of something great.”
They wore matching expressions of contempt as they looked at each other, but fuck them. We were moving toward something now and neither of them were going to halt this momentum.