CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
ELIAS
Crisp air bit against Elias’s cheek as he shuffled down the tree-lined sidewalk, his feet growing heavier with each step.
Strangers slipped past him, shooting him wary glances, and he tugged at the bill of his tattered ballcap in the hope that it would at least partially hide the dark circles under his eyes.
If there was a hell, he was most definitely in it.
It had been five days since Cadi fled his apartment—fled him—and the deep throbbing in his bones, the tremors that wracked his limbs, were constant reminders of what Oneirios had taken.
Sleep was barely possible, not without Cadi next to him.
His chest ached from the weight of missing her: the warmth of her body, the soft sound of her breath, even her weird little snores.
Desperate for relief, he had taken to spending his nights on the couch, though it hardly helped.
Any sleep that did find him was tainted by Oneirios’s shadow and fear clawed at him until he woke drenched in cold sweat.
That, coupled with the effort it took to make sure his mental door stayed locked tight while simultaneously resisting the god’s renewed interest in trying to influence him through his binding …
Well, the word “tired” just didn’t cut it.
The walk signal in front of him shifted, and Elias slowed to a stop before resting his pounding head against the metal streetlight.
His knees shook under the weight of his exhaustion.
With stiff fingers, he fumbled for his phone, and his pulse spiked when his grip failed, nearly sending it flying into traffic.
Clutching the device tight to his chest, he took a slow breath to settle his nerves before he tried to reread the message from Sera.
In the three hours since she had called to tell him where to meet, he had double-checked her follow-up text with the name of the small coffee shop at least twenty times, his groggy mind refusing to hold on to even the simplest piece of information.
He only remembered two things from that call: Sera had answers. Cadi would be there.
A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. He needed to see her like he needed to breathe, but no one could guarantee she would feel the same. After what he had done, he wouldn’t blame her.
Something hard collided with his shoulder, nearly knocking him from his feet completely. His head snapped up, though his eyes struggled to comprehend the shifting bodies that surged past.
“You good?” a voice asked from behind him.
He spun around to find the concerned face of a stranger staring back at him. The man glanced over Elias’s shoulder, toward the illuminated walk sign.
Elias pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. “Yep. Sorry.”
Focusing all the energy he had available, he forced himself into the flow and urged his feet to move against the fatigue that made him feel like he was walking through mud.
Around the next corner, the black and white sign of the café Sera had named came into view. He raised an eyebrow as he approached, needles digging into the base of his skull when he read the kitschy name emblazoned across the wood: “No Beanz About It Coffee she was just trying to lighten the dire vibe that hung over the table and his attitude wasn’t helping.
He blew out a breath and counted silently in his head in a measured attempt to dull the venom that seemed to have taken up a semipermanent residence at the tip of his tongue.
“Sorry. It’s been a rough few days,” he muttered.
Sera softened, then reached across the table to rest her hand against his. “How about we fix that?”
His fingers tightened around hers. “For the love of everything that is and once was holy, yes please.”
Sera let out a gentle laugh, and he found his gaze instinctively pulled to Cadi, his breath catching at the delicate grin that tugged the corner of her full lips.
Scarlet dusted her cheeks when her eyes shifted to his, and she caught his stare for a painfully fleeting moment before she lowered them to the ceramic mug clutched tightly in her hands. Her caffeinated lifeline.
A soft rustle pulled him back to Sera as she slid a small drawing across the table toward him.
He picked it up and studied the delicate lines that made up the small sigil.
The pattern was simple: a single winding line cut lengthwise by two parallel strokes, then crossed perpendicularly by another, all enclosed within a circle.
He could feel her watching him with quiet expectation, so he nodded, squinting as if he understood anything about what he was looking at. “Neat. I don’t get it.”
Sera rolled her eyes and snatched the drawing from his fingers. “I didn’t expect you to, dick.” She smoothed the paper against the polished surface of the table before turning to Cadi with a smirk and tossing her head back in his direction. “This fuckin’ guy, amiright?”
Cadi chuckled softly and the familiar sound settled against his solar plexus.
Elias never knew it was possible to miss someone so much when they were so close.
She looked at him again, the soft smile still lighting her face.
This time, she let her gaze linger for a heartbeat longer before it shifted back to Sera.
The loss of it left him hollow. It wasn’t enough. Nothing but all of her would ever be enough, but he knew that for now, it would have to be. He clung to the memory of that smile, holding on to it with fragile hope that he might see it again.
Sera leaned in, lowering her voice against any prying ears.
“Each element in this sigil is placed with the intention of shielding your dreams from Oneirios,” she explained, “Like I’ve said before, this new ability of his to actually reach through dreams instead of being able to simply manipulate them isn’t something that we could have anticipated, so I had to pool a few different things together to make the protection stick. ”
She pointed to the curved line at the center of the drawing. “This one acts as a labyrinth. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s enough to get Oneirios nice and turned around if he tries to access your dreams.”
“So he can’t get to us while we’re asleep?” Cadi asked.
Sera nodded. “Exactly.”