28. Iris
Iris
Ihate to admit it, but the Slayer seems lighter after killing that vampire. Oz was going to kill my best friend to get back at Warin. There’s no doubt in my mind. The other vampires weren’t strong enough to take him out, but the Slayer was.
It’s confusing rationalizing this all in my head. Am I really condoning murder?
Is it really murder when someone is already dead? My plans have changed in a matter of days and, to be honest, I didn’t know where to go from here.
Wrapping my head around everything that had happened was making my head spin.
I wasn’t sure what was right or wrong to feel.
The only concrete thing I knew was that my dark visions had decreased.
There were still a few that were ominous and confusing at night.
But I was sleeping, my best friends were safe, my coven was solid, yet why did I feel so lost?
When I glance up at the Slayer I sigh, because he’s right: there’s this tether between us, one that draws me to him even when I don’t want to be.
It didn’t surprise me when Adam asked to pick up his things to take back to my place, honestly; I wasn’t really expecting much to change, but it’s still confusing.
There’s a deep sense of guilt that I’m part of the reason Adam is suffering, and I just want to take that away.
We’re walking quietly toward Adam’s apartment when my breath hitches and I grab the Slayer’s forearm, my nails digging into his skin as I stop walking, my vision going hazy as the vision hits me.
I swear it’s because I just had the thought that my visions had decreased, but I don’t have a moment to consider that as everything comes into frame in my mind.
The Slayer is on the ground, bleeding, a man standing over top of him with a stake in his hand.
As soon as it comes to me, it fades away.
The Slayer is cupping my face, his thumbs running soothing circles on my skin and I don’t tell him to stop because it’s actually pretty nice and how can I explain what I just saw? Even worse, can I admit how sick it made me feel?
“Iris, what is it? One of your visions?”
I nod, and blink at our surroundings; it’s sunset, the street we’re on is empty and darkening by the second. The wrought iron pattern to my left looks eerily familiar.
“We need to leave. Now,” I say, grabbing his wrist and ushering us down the street.
“What is it? What did you see?” he asks and I just shake my head.
Visions aren’t a guarantee. Sometimes they’re symbolic, sometimes they’re a possibility, but they’re almost always a warning. It’s the witch’s job to decipher and act based on what they see, and right now I’m choosing to run.
“Iris. What is it?” he asks as I drag him along.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle cracks through the air. It’s intimidating, and I can’t tell where it’s coming from.
The Slayer stills beside me, and I can sense recognition in his eyes. The veins in his throat are nearly bulging out of his skin, and I swear he grows taller. The whistling doesn’t stop as the Slayer moves me behind his body, shielding me from this stranger.
“More vampires?” I ask in a whisper and the Slayer shakes his head.
“Worse,” he whispers.
A man twirling a stake walks toward us. The sun is behind him and all I can see is the outline of his frame. He’s large and imposing and doesn’t stop whistling as he approaches.
“If anything happens to me, you run, go back to the apartment and protect yourself,” the Slayer says seriously.
“It was my vision. He was standing over you, you were bleeding.”
The man gets closer and closer till eventually all his features are clear. He’s a broad man with blanched skin, with a thick beard and slightly unkempt dark hair that meets his shoulders. It takes me a moment and then I realize the most identifying feature about him.
He has the same tattoos running down his arms just like the Slayer.
This man, isn’t a man, he’s also a vampire slayer.
“Brother,” his deep voice rumbles to the Slayer. They both sound otherworldly and so similar it sends a chill down my spine.
“What do you want?” my Slayer asks.
Oh goddess, he’s in danger and now I’m referring to him as mine?
“You know what I want. It’s quite interesting how many of us have been brought back this cycle. Got to say, this place ain’t too fucking shabby.”
They don’t reference each other by name, which I pick up on immediately. What is it with vampire slayers and protecting their names?
“How many?”
The bearded slayer across from us laughs. It’s deep and menacing, and he stares at me while he does it.
“As if we would let you collect the ultimate prize after all of this time?”
“Is he talking about me?” I complain and the Slayer pushes me further behind him.
“She was only truly promised to me.”
“Promises are meant to be broken. These endless cycles are worth nothing without a prize,” the other slayer says, and he licks his lips as he looks at me.
“She is not a prize. She’s my fucking mate,” my Slayer growls.
“She won’t be if you’re dead.”
Everything that happens next is a blur. The Slayer pushes me away, and I land against a pile of trash before getting my bearings.
The two slayers are brutally fighting, neither of them holding back anything as they beat each other. It’s hard to tell who’s winning with how fast they move. I clutch my wand in my hand as I figure out what role I need to play in this fight.
There’s no time to process the new slayer’s words. All I can do is focus on making sure I get out of this alive, along with Adam and the Slayer.
“You always thought you were better than us. Always so much smarter and stronger. You don’t deserve anything good,” the bearded slayer says, slamming his fist into the Slayer’s face. Blood spurts out of his mouth and my breath hitches.
When the fuck did violence and gore start following me everywhere I went?
Defensive magic wasn’t a particularly strong skill set of mine. It was also incredibly hard with two moving targets. One moment the Slayer was getting pummeled and then the next, he was on top of the other man, giving him just as good as he got.
“She’s mine,” the Slayer growls, and it reverberates down my spine.
I check in with myself and note that I don’t feel anything for this newcomer.
There’s no pull to him. In fact, I’m absolutely terrified of him.
When the Slayer broke into my shop, there was fear there, no doubt, but deep down I knew I was safe.
As much as I hate to admit it, we are mates, and I’m not going to let this other slayer make my life any more complicated than it already was.
I grasp my wand in my trembling hand as I flick it, whispering the words. The newcomer goes flying in the air, landing hard on his back. The noise that slips out of him is animalistic and full of rage as he looks at me with rage and betrayal?
The Slayer never looked at me like that, not even when I upset him.
I’m thinking of what to do next as my Slayer runs toward me, wrapping his arms around my frame, and he teleports us to an apartment I’d never been to. We land on a too-firm double bed, and I gasp with the sensation, especially because we landed with the Slayer right on top of me.
“You’re alright. You’re okay?” the Slayer asks, grabbing my chin and searching me over even though he was the one bleeding from his face.
I watch in awe as his wounds heal before my eyes.
“Yeah. I’m fine. What about you?”
He runs his fingers through the longer dark hair on top of his head, his tattooed-covered biceps bulging as he does so.
I might be imagining things, but I swear I see a new line on his arm, perhaps from killing a powerful vampire like Oz the mark is larger.
He doesn’t move from where he hovers over me for a long moment, until he realizes our position and flops onto his back.
“This isn’t good,” he says, “Fuck.”
“I thought you said there weren’t many slayers out there?”
He licks his lips, his tongue soaking up some blood off his busted lip as he shakes his head.
“There aren’t many.”
“Okay, so what was that?”
He groans, grabbing his arm where a more severe cut is working on healing itself.
I sigh, getting off the bed and going to the bathroom, where I grab one wet towel and one dry one.
The apartment isn’t anything to write home about, but it’s decorated in art and personal trinkets.
I take a peek out the window and decide we must be near Marigny & Bywater.
The neighbor across the street’s driveway has a painted mural on it.
I come back to the Slayer, and begin cleaning his wounds, and he just stares at the ceiling. This is the most defeated I’ve ever seen him.
“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” I ask, wiping off blood and watching as he heals.
“You asked me earlier if I was always alone. There was one cycle, the longest I ever lived, where I wasn’t alone.
It was long ago, the vampire population was growing tenfold in Europe.
I had found other slayers and we would hunt as a group.
We considered ourselves brothers. It was the closest thing any of us have ever had to a connection. ”
He doesn’t look at me as he speaks.
“They felt like family. I would die for them, and I did in the end.”
I continue cleaning him, knowing that he needs to tell me his story at his pace.
“I made a mistake. I told them they promised me a mate if I agreed to become a slayer. They were not, they became slayers simply to come to the mortal lands and did not ask for anything else. I told them you were my prize, and they became envious of that. I’ve run into them in other cycles and there’s been hostility, but I did not think about the possibility of them being brought back. ”
I take a deep breath, not looking into his eyes as I take in all his words.
“So they want to kill you and take me?” I confirm.
He grabs my hand, stopping my movements as he squeezes my hand.
“I will not let any harm come to you because I made the wrong choice. I’m so sorry, my mate. I should have never spoken of you. I should have treasured you for myself, but you must understand you were my one point of happiness.”
My heart aches for this broken man in front of me. How many lives he has lived alone and the one where he did have a family? They’re out to betray him. I suppose he and Adam aren’t so different after all.
“But I’m not their mate?” I confirm.
The Slayer’s eyes flash. “No, you’re tethered to no one but me. They have nothing to hope for, no reason to continue coming back cycle after cycle. I’m not sure if this is revenge or if they think you could fill some sort of emptiness in their too long lives.”
I didn’t like the idea of being a pawn. Even more so, that man scared me. He seemed nothing like the Slayer pleading with me right now.
“We need to find their spell books and you need to…” I can’t even say the words, because I know they’re attached to humans. How could I possibly suggest that we need to kill them?
“Adam is a rare case. The vessels they’re using, I promise, death would be a kindness,” the Slayer says.
I’m not one to seek comfort from people. It’s hard for me to accept help or other people’s strength, but the way he savagely attacked the Slayer and the way they were so evenly matched is concerning.
“Just give me a moment,” I say, sneaking off to the bathroom. I run through some spells to clean up and get ready for bed, and once I do I stare at myself in the mirror.
The Slayer’s safety is important to me, we’re all in this together, and right now I just want comfort. A single moment where I’m not over thinking everything sounds blissful.
I leave the restroom and wordlessly lie down on the bed next to the Slayer, snuggling up close to his side. He shocks me by pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head.
“Do not worry, my Iris. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.”
Shockingly, I believe him wholeheartedly.
For the first time in a long time I feel cherished and safe because of someone else, and I soak up every second of it.
There’s no way I can run from this any more. I think it’s time to embrace the fact that the Slayer is my mate.