Chapter 3
Three
TALULLA
As I wait for Asmo and Cassandra to pick me up, I sit on a bench across from Flynn’s apartment building, staring at absolutely nothing and thinking about the nightmare I had last night.
The same nightmare I’ve been having every night now.
I see my grandmother’s death—or at least, pieces of it. Flashes that don’t quite make sense, except that they always leave my chest tight and my hands shaking.
I was three years old when the Original took her from me.
I want to tell Flynn. I really do. But how do I explain the reason my father turned me into a walking weapon when he never had a choice in becoming what he is? How do I say that out loud without breaking something in both of us? I can’t add that weight to everything else we’re carrying.
Not now.
In London.
I’ll do it in London.
Just like I know he’s waiting to tell me the full story of how he was turned. I can feel it—sitting there between us, heavy and unspoken. It’s hard not to ask questions. Hard not to poke and prod until he cracks. But I learned quickly that Flynn doesn’t respond well to being pushed.
Neither do I.
We’re infuriatingly similar that way, and it’s driving me a little insane.
I wish I could shake him and make him tell me everything. Or compel him. Or smack him—whatever works. But I can be patient.
I can.
Sometimes.
Okay, it’s really hard. But I’m a considerate girlfriend. Or…whatever it is that we are. Labels are terrifying.
Fuck, I want to be the unhinged psycho who asks every single question and refuses to let it go. I want to tear the bandage off and bleed it all out at once. But I won’t. I’ll respect his boundaries the same way he respects mine.
Which honestly might be the most unfair part of all of this.
God, why does he respect me so much?
I wish he didn’t—just a little—so we could both finally break and tell each other everything.
I realize I’m nervously jiggling my knee just as a black SUV pulls up in front of me.
“Called for the hottest driver?” Asmo asks as he brings the car to a smooth stop.
“I did,” I deadpan, standing. “And yet, they sent you. I’ll be leaving a one-star review.”
Cassandra laughs from the passenger seat while Asmodeus clutches his chest like I’ve stabbed him clean through. “You wound me, sister.”
I jog the few steps to the car and slide into the back seat. “Hello, friends. What are we getting up to today?”
“Well,” Cassandra says, turning around in her seat, “your vampire requested a full day of nothing for you, so obviously that’s not happening.”
“Thank fuck.”
“You should enjoy the time off, though,” she adds more gently. “He’s right about that, Tal.”
“I can’t just…not do anything.”
“And that,” Asmo says cheerfully, pulling back into the traffic, “is why you’re coming herb shopping.”
“What?”
“Yep. We’ve got a pretty big potion order to fill.”
“Since when do you take orders for potion-making?”
Asmo snorts. “Since your man called Set and paid him an obscene amount of money to make sure you’d have access to literally anything you might need in London.”
I roll my eyes. “As if he doesn’t already have half the witches in England on speed dial.”
“I think he just likes Set more than most witches he knows.”
I huff. “Fair enough. He is a pretty cool dude.”
“I’m just glad he’s staying longer this time,” Cassandra says softly, gaze drifting toward the window. “I don’t like it when he’s gone so much.”
“I know,” I reply, lips pressing into a thin line. Neither of us says the rest of it out loud.
Asmo clears his throat. “So…last night, Kaden and Flynn were almost friendly.”
I blink. “Almost” is doing a lot of work there.
“I think after the whole Eric incident, Kaden gained a new level of respect for Flynn.”
“That’s good, right?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. I think so.” A pause. “Flynn’s been trying really hard.”
And god help me—I see it.
“You should’ve seen them that day, Tal,” Cassandra says. “They were out of this world. Flynn was…I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I think it might help Kaden,” I say slowly. “You know…stop hurting himself by sleeping with anything living that’s willing.”
Asmo snorts as he pulls into a parking spot in front of a small natural store. “I mean, I don’t blame the guy. He lost everyone.”
I nod. “He did.” A beat. “I just hope he finds someone soon.”
I climb out of the car and trail after them, the thought sticking in my chest. “Can you guys keep an eye on him? Or something?”
“He’s an adult, Tal,” Cassandra says gently.
“I know, but I just—” I sigh, pushing the door open. “I don’t know. It feels like he needs a friend. And for some absurd reason, that was me. And now I’m leaving.”
“You’re following your dreams,” she replies. “He doesn’t blame you for that. I hope you know it.”
“I know he doesn’t,” I say quietly. “But…”
“But you wish you could be there more.”
“Yeah.”
Asmo glances back at me. “He’s our friend now too, Tal. He’s not alone.”
I nod, the knot in my chest loosening just a little. “Thank you.”
Inside the store, all emotional clarity promptly evaporates.
Holy shit.
I watch in disbelief as they load up basket after basket, the poor shop owner looking like he might need a chair by the end of this. When we finally make it back to the car, the trunk is completely packed.
I stare at it. “How much money did Flynn give you guys? This is actually insane.”
“He just wanted you to have anything you could possibly need.”
“Okay, but I’m not leaving the planet,” I argue. “I could call you. You could walk me through things. Or find me a witch in London.”
“I think Flynn doesn’t trust many people there,” Cassandra says. “Or…anywhere, really.”
“I think Flynn is just completely paranoid and possibly unwell,” I mutter, and both witches burst out laughing. “How are we supposed to get all of this on a flight?”
God. I’m going to need to check at least five extra suitcases with all these damn potions. I guess it’s a good thing he booked business class when I specifically told him we didn’t need it.
Dating a rich vampire is absolutely exhausting.
We’ve been at the Drusus house for hours. I’m stretched out on the kitchen counter, staring at the ceiling, while Asmodeus and Cassandra work their magic behind the stove. At some point, the steady rhythm of it all almost lulls me into sleep.
Almost.
“Tal, pay attention,” Cassandra says, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
I blink. “Still can’t sleep?” she asks, already knowing the answer.
I sigh. “I’ll sleep. Eventually.”
“Talulla.”
I groan, bracing myself. “I’ve just been having some nightmares lately, okay? That’s all. I was stressed about my dissertation, and now I’m not. My brain’s just…catching up.”
Her arms cross over her chest. Then, before I can fully process it, she’s moving toward me, grabbing my hand.
I stiffen, eyes widening at the contact.
Affection from Cassandra isn’t unusual—but touch is complicated with her. Unprepared contact means visions. Memories. Things I don’t always want dragged into the light.
“Cass, what are you—”
“Shush,” she mouths, her grip tightening as her eyes go unfocused.
“It’s just a memory—” I start, already regretting it.
“About your grandmother,” she says quietly.
My lips press into a thin line. “Yeah. I guess. For some reason, I’ve been getting flashes of her death again.”
“I thought you were doing better with this.”
I shrug, trying to make it seem smaller than it is. “I honestly never really had a problem with it. Not until now.”
“And what does your vampire say about it?” Cassandra asks.
“Flynn doesn’t know.”
Her stare sharpens. “You haven’t told him the most traumatic thing that ever happened to you? The first big, horrible thing?”
“I—”
“Talulla.”
I exhale slowly. “I want to tell him. I do. It’s been eating me alive. But I don’t think I can say it until he’s ready to tell me everything, too.”
“That’s incredibly unhealthy,” she says flatly. “You’ve been together for what—eight months?”
“More like nine…”
“Oh my god.”
“I will tell him,” I insist. “That’s the plan. In London.”
Her eyes soften just a fraction. “Why are you so afraid?”
Because I know him.
“Because he’ll lose it,” I admit. “Because he’ll go on a murder spree, and I really don’t want him trying to track down the Original and getting himself killed in the process.”
Asmo snorts from behind us. “Technically, he’s already dead.”
Cassandra doesn’t even look at him before landing a sharp punch to his forearm.
“Ouch,” he yelps.
“No one knows where he’s hiding,” she continues, turning back to me. “You know my mother and Asmo’s father have been working with your dad to find him.”
“I know.”
“We can’t locate him.”
“I know.”
“Flynn won’t be able to either,” she says firmly. “He’s the First. We shouldn’t even try to find him.”
I swallow, my stomach twisting.
Because knowing that doesn’t make the fear go away.
“He’d still try to find him,” I say quietly. “I know he would.”
“He won’t find him.”
“That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try.” I turn to face them, rubbing a hand over my face.
“I don’t even know how to bring it up. Like, hey babe, remember my trust and abandonment issues?
Well, aside from my father being the way he is, I kind of watched my grandmother die in front of me when I was three and never fully recovered. ”
Asmo grimaces. “Honestly, it’s a miracle you can even stand a vampire.”
I glare at him, but he keeps going. “I mean, Flynn’s great. But before him? You didn’t like seeing any of his kind walking around. You treated them like an unfortunate joke of nature. You tolerated them, but befriending one? Sleeping with one?”
“Asmo, you were literally the first one to say how we just made sense, and now you bring this up?”
“I said before Flynn, you mostly staked them, even if you didn’t want to.”
“Can we change the subject?” I mutter.
“There’s something else bothering you,” Cassandra says, already reaching for my wrist.
I groan. “You know what? I’m starting to hate the touching thing you do.”
“Spill it.”
I roll my eyes, but the words come out anyway. “I feel like there’s a wall forming between Flynn and me.”
Her grip softens. “Why?”
“He hasn’t told me the full story of how he was turned. And I guess I expected…more by now.”
“Didn’t he tell you he was turned during the first war after getting injured?”
“Yeah.”
“Then he did tell you how it happened.”
I sigh. “I guess he did.”
“And he told you that on your first date. When you asked him.” She presses. “So what’s the real issue?”
I hesitate. “It just feels like he wants to say more. Like he always has that I’ll tell you everything someday look—and someday still hasn’t happened.”
“The man’s been around for a hundred years,” Asmo says, stirring the pot. “It might take him a minute to unpack all that trauma.”
I groan. “I know. That’s why I’m trying to be calm and collected.”
Cassandra snorts. “You? Calm and collected?”
“Yes,” I say defensively. “I’m a new Talulla. One who doesn’t try to control or fix every single thing in her life.”
Asmo laughs outright. “Sure, Tal. You’re doing amazing.”
“London,” I declare. “Everything will be fixed in London.”
“Excited?” Cassandra asks.
I can’t help but lift the corners of my mouth up in a smile. “Very.”
“Good. You deserve this fresh start.”
“Seven days.”
Asmo turns off the stove. “And that was the last batch of cleaning potions.”
I look around the kitchen—and holy shit. The sheer number of vials is absurd. “Apparently Flynn thinks I’m going to blow up the entire city and need to cover it up.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
“I thought the whole point of the move was that I wouldn’t have to deal with the supernatural anymore.”
“It’s a precaution,” Cassandra says. “You’re going to live the most boring, normal life imaginable.”
I roll my eyes. “I know.” I check my watch. “Okay. Time for me to go.”
After loading four heavy boxes into the trunk of Asmodeus’s car, we head back to Flynn’s apartment.
When we walk in, Flynn’s already in the kitchen.
“You’re absolutely paranoid, fangs,” I announce.
I can feel his smirk before he even turns. He’s stirring something on the stove, and—fuck—it smells incredible. Can this man stop being so unfairly perfect?
“Hello, darling,” he says smoothly. “I had a great day. Thank you for asking. How was your day?”
“You two should start one of those channels on the internet,” Asmo says, pointing between us. “You’re hilarious.”
I narrow my eyes at him, then turn back to my vampire. “Don’t you think you went a little overboard with the potion shopping?”
He glances at the boxes, shrugs. “Not really. It’s a good base.”
“Babe,” I say, crossing my arms, “you bought an entire witch store.”
Still leaning casually against the counter, his smirk deepens. “Babe, it’s just a precaution.”
“So extra,” I mutter.
God help me—the way he looks at me right now, like I’m the only person in the room, like my friends don’t even exist.
He steps closer, lowering his lips to my ear. “You love it.”
And the worst part?
I absolutely do.