Chapter 5 Voresta
five
Voresta
Voresta wouldn’t go so far as to say The Succubus—or ‘The Succ’, as Finare liked to call it—was a seedy blood bar, but it certainly wasn’t Noctis’s most appealing venue to score a meal.
The droopy-eyed female he sampled when he first arrived tasted oily and unpleasant, and he was still struggling to rid the taste from his mouth.
While there were better places to go, Finare’s latest fling worked here, so Voresta was forced to enjoy the sub-par snacks while Finare amused himself.
Leseldh insisted that Voresta have a ‘night to himself’ instead of accompanying him and Ivy to the theatre. Since he was so accustomed to following Leseldh wherever he went, he felt useless when he wasn’t on duty. He chose to follow Finare around tonight instead.
As the designated protector of the Idthraki clan, Voresta didn’t really know how to switch off.
Even while he was supposed to be having fun, Voresta found himself watching the people around him and assessing for threats.
Since The Succubus was one of the cheaper blood bars in the city, it usually attracted some nefarious types, but tonight the other patrons of varying species appeared to be uninterested in conflict.
Voresta was occupying a high table positioned against a wall near the bar.
The Succubus’s main bar area was filled with an array of shabby tables spread out across the filthy floor, stained with who knows what, and the bar hosted a meagre selection of drinks.
Although the predominant trade was blood for the Vampire clientele, other species frequented the bar for its cheap drinks and ‘anything goes’ atmosphere.
Voresta cast his eyes over the other tables, spotting a pair of Shapeshifters getting extremely familiar in the centre of the room, and a group of witches cackling as they sipped on cocktails of a bright green liquid.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned his head to see Finare drop onto the stool across from him.
He placed a tall glass of an amber-coloured liquid onto the table and breathed a heavy sigh.
“Well, another one bites the dust.” An almost-pout played on Finare’s lips. Voresta quirked a brow at Finare. It seemed their reason for visiting The Succ had just dumped him.
“What now?” Voresta tapped his fingers on the table underneath his forearms.
“I dunno, search for another and start again, I guess.” Finare pushed his fingers through his hair, his eyes roving the room.
“No, I mean, are we done here?”
“Oh, right. Man, this place really sucks, doesn’t it? Let’s get out of here.” With that, Finare threw back the remainder of his drink and slammed the glass down on the table. With the force he used, Voresta was surprised it didn’t shatter.
The two left the bar in silence, but Finare’s mood hung over them like a storm cloud.
They walked south along First Spiral East until they reached Finare’s tiny sports car.
Voresta, despite his bulk, managed to squeeze into the passenger’s seat while Finare slid effortlessly into the driver’s seat.
The engine roared as Finare sped in the direction of home.
“Have you spent much time with Ivy yet?”
“Other than when she’s out with Leseldh, no.” Voresta’s eyes drifted out the window to watch the buildings whip past. As they moved out of the city’s centre, the buildings became larger, fancier, and further apart.
“Do you think he’ll come for her, like he did with El—”
“—Don’t say her name.” The glare he threw at Finare could melt steel.
“Sorry, dude. Relax,”—Finare raised a hand defensively in response, keeping the other fixed firmly on the wheel— “But seriously… do you think Ivy’s safe?”
“I’ll protect her.”
The engine’s whine filled the silence as Finare sped along South-Central Boulevarde towards Veldmoor.
“What do you think of this whole Resonant thing?” Finare dropped the question casually, but he was watching Voresta closely, as though he was gauging his reaction.
“What Resonant thing?”
“Are you telling me that you, the precious First Creation, don’t know that Leseldh has been telling your new Broodmate that she’s his Resonant?” The sarcasm and condescension in Finare’s tone raked nails down Voresta’s nerves.
“I wasn’t aware of that.” Voresta’s voice was deadly calm, which usually threatened violence.
They drove up the long private drive of Veldmoor, and he couldn’t wait to be free of the claustrophobic car. Voresta noted that Leseldh’s car wasn’t back yet. He assured himself that the couple were fine, and that Leseldh would send Phaedra to him if he was needed.
Finare made his way towards the mansion and stopped in the doorway. “You coming in, dude?”
“Soon.”
Finare headed inside without responding.
Voresta took a deep breath, his thoughts running wild.
Concerns were already lurking in the shadows of his mind, and Finare had just drawn them into the light.
He stood outside the mansion for a long moment, hoping the cool air would lower the rising temperature that accompanied his frustration.
Heading inside, he moved to his makeshift gym that was once a dining room at the back of the house.
Kicking off his shoes and pulling his shirt over his head, he warmed up his body with some stretches before launching a brutal assault on the punching bag that was suspended from a beam in the centre of the room.
His muscles flexed with each punishing blow he landed on the bag, and the effort helped to ease his tension.
But it wasn’t happening quickly enough to ward off the thoughts that bombarded him.
He’d lived with Finare for the last twenty-three years, but he still hadn’t found a way to stop the kid from getting under his skin.
The way he said Elia’s name so casually sent a spear of rage throughout him that he channelled into the punching bag with a vicious right hook.
The bag was flung sideways from the punch and his eyes tracked the movement.
Even without uttering the name, daring to mention him was enough to have Voresta seeing red.
Killian. The lowlife Maurell that spent his time taking out Fledglings for his pathetic Sire.
Voresta knew that Killian would launch an attack against Ivy if he learned of her existence.
He just had to make sure that Killian didn’t find out.
This time around, he would make sure Killian didn’t get the chance to End another Idthraki.
Voresta remained in the gym for hours and was so focused on training that he didn’t hear the approach of Leseldh’s car.
He decimated the punching bag with impressive strength, even for a Vampire of his age.
When he tired of that, he moved to the racks of weights, putting his exerted muscles through their paces until he had no strength left.
With every rep, he pictured Killian’s face and swore to himself that whatever that wicked bastard tried, this time he’d be ready for it.