Chapter 12
WE ARE NOT FRIENDS
ELLIOT
“You don’t have to do this,” I tell Henry.
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned.” He walks beside me, hands stuffed in his pockets. While I opted to wear darker colors, near-black shades of burnt orange, Henry is wearing his usual estival attire. A lavender suit jacket. Light beige slacks. A golden watch, gifted to him by an old friend.
Even beyond his bright clothing, Henry doesn’t belong here. He’s smiling, for one. I’m certain people in the Night Realm don’t smile. His chin is tipped toward the sky, breathing in the air like it’s the freshest he’s ever smelt.
It’s not. This place smells like werewolf fur and spilled blood and filth…or at least it should. I’m certain there are undertones of it, lingering between gusts of fresh wind from the neutral territory.
“I’m serious, Henry,” I say. I stop walking, catching him by the shoulder. We’re only a few miles into the Night Realm. That leaves us plenty of time and space to get the hells out of here before reaching Secora Reed’s lair.
“You?” Henry asks, a grin splitting his face. “The Elliot I know would never be serious.”
“We can go back,” I say, ignoring his mocking. “I’ll never mention it again—”
“Look, I know this woman ruined your life, so I’m trying to be courteous,” Henry interrupts.
“But I’ve been fascinated with Secora Reed for years.
I’m intrigued by her. I’ve dreamt of meeting her someday to figure out what goes on in that twisted little head of hers.
I’m excited to meet her. If anything goes awry, we’re skilled enough to get back to the Day Realm. All right?”
I swallow. My throat is suddenly too dry to speak. Excited?
“I told you I was trying to be courteous,” Henry says. He sighs as he starts walking again, and my hand falls from his shoulder. I force myself to keep pace, even as my mind races and my entire body begs me to turn around.
It was stupid to bring Henry into this.
And why? To get memories I didn’t realize I was missing until a couple weeks ago? To potentially discover I was a useless bystander at my best friend’s murder? To learn some other, horrible truths? I should have accepted Cora’s obvious lie and pretended she didn’t steal a damned thing from me.
“Is that where you tried to buy vampire blood?” Henry asks.
Much as I wish he’d picked a different subject, I’m thankful for the distraction.
We’ve reached the first cluster of buildings in the Night Realm.
They’re not well-maintained, and they clearly don’t have building codes here.
The structures are close enough together, if one falls, they all will.
From the looks of it, it’s only a matter of time.
“Yes,” I say, glancing at the dreary stone building. It doesn’t have a proper name that I can tell, but there’s a sign in its front window that reads: High Quality, Quick Blood! I hadn’t even made it through the door before Sebastian’s men grabbed me.
“We could probably just steal blood now,” Henry muses, dropping his voice. The entire strip of businesses is dark and quiet. It’ll remain this way until nightfall, at which point vampires will fill the street like it’s a holiday festival.
“Yeah?” I ask. I look over the shadowed building once more before giving Henry an unimpressed look. “And what will we do if there are vampires in there?”
By his slackened expression, Henry hadn’t considered that. Of course, I have. I’ve considered every option other than the one we’re pursuing now. If there was some other way to save Mama’s life, I’d do that instead. As it is, Cora’s her best chance—and therefore, mine.
“To the vampire manor, then,” Henry says. By the way his lips tilt, he’s not particularly disappointed.
I don’t respond, focusing instead on the walk ahead of us.
Overhead, the sun hangs high in the sky, warming the cool fall air.
We have several hours before nightfall, and Cora’s only criteria for us meeting at the manor—rather than in public—was that we be gone by dark.
She didn’t want to be responsible for getting us to the neutral territory once the vampires were out.
As if we’d be begging her, a literal murderer, to protect us.
The strip of businesses abruptly comes to a stop.
The Night Realm is so poorly designed it’s actually funny.
A random cluster of buildings here, a few miles of unused rocky landscape there.
To the west, another section of buildings rests against the skyline, but it’s too far to tell what they are.
More businesses, maybe, or a subdivision of vampiric fortresses.
To the east, Sebastian’s manor sits isolated amongst jagged rocks.
It looks like a miniature castle, all rough stones and overgrown vines.
There’s no proper lawn. No trees or bushes, vegetation or flowers.
A short set of stairs leads to a neglected porch, and I’m so busy studying it, I don’t realize Henry has stopped.
As soon as I pause to look back at him, he lurches forward to grab my arm. His grip is painfully tight, but his eyes aren’t on me. They’re on a small, darkened figure as she approaches from the far side of the manor.
Cora cuts across the plane of dark stone. She’s not using the main trail, as we are, yet she glides effortlessly all the same. Her hair is pulled tight, accentuating her large features. Her clothes are baggy. Her body scrawny.
And yet, there’s something about the way she moves that captures attention. That makes your spine straighten. Secora Reed may be small, but she is undoubtedly fearsome.
“She looks pissed,” Henry says from beside me. He’s still gripping my arm too hard, and now, his magic is pulsing into his palms. I can feel the heat through my jacket, threatening to sting me.
“She’s a murderer,” I remind him. “Of course she’s pissed.”
Henry doesn’t have a response to that, but his posture has changed. Gone is the boyish charm and nonchalance. Now, he looks as nervous as I’ve felt this entire journey.
“You look like Harrison,” I blurt. I’m not sure why. It’s not a good time to say such a thing. I know that. I know that. And yet, I can’t stop the word vomit from spilling out of me. “You might remind her of him.”
“You’re telling me this now?” he asks.
“It’s fine,” I say. I don’t know who I’m trying to convince.
Now that I’ve spoken the words aloud, I can’t stop seeing the similarities. Harrison and Henry. Even their names are similar. Both with blond hair and boyish smiles and outgoing charm. What if I’ve just hand-delivered Cora’s next victim?
To my surprise, she barely looks at Henry as she approaches. She’s glaring at me, those wide dark eyes narrowed. She stops directly before us, tilting her chin in a way that makes me feel like the small one, even as I tower over her.
“You were supposed to wait,” she says. She has the same bag from our first session strapped over her shoulder. It’s bulkier this time, stuffed with Mother knows what.
“It’s daylight,” I say.
“Some vampires can walk in the sun,” she says. She may not be a vampire herself, but she certainly has the countenance of one. Ungodly pale. Eerily still. Impossible to read. “In case you’ve forgotten why you’re here.”
“I haven’t,” I say. Then, nodding toward Henry, I add, “I brought my companion. As promised. And the memory?”
“I have it,” she says. She glances at Henry, face revealing nothing. She doesn’t ask his name. She doesn’t introduce herself, even as he gawks at her. “Sunwalker spell first. Memory second. Understood?”
“Yes ma’am,” Henry blurts. His voice is sharp, like he’s addressing a war general. “Honor to meet you, ma’am. Woman. Lady.”
Cora raises a single black eyebrow. She watches him as blush turns his entire face red, then looks back to me.
“He’s the competent one?”
I can’t tell if she’s mocking or genuinely asking.
“With spellcasting,” I clarify with a forced smile. “In other areas, not so much.”
She doesn’t smile in return.
“Let’s go,” she says. She turns on her heel and starts back for the manor, once again avoiding the flattened pathway.
Instead, she leads us over the steep, rocky terrain.
She’s sure-footed. Confident. So graceful I can’t help but think of vampires again.
Perhaps she’s lived here long enough she’s becoming one.
“Elliot,” Henry hisses from beside me. Despite his fumbling introduction, he’s back to his typical, goofy self. I suppose a bit of distance from Cora helps with that.
“What?” I ask. I’m studying her back, admiring the gentle slope of her neck.
“I’m in love,” he says. “You should’ve warned me she’s pretty. You know I’m a fool for mean, pretty women.”
I grind my teeth. I know Henry’s teasing, but it pisses me off all the same. Because this woman killed my best friend. Because her cruelty goes far beyond mean.
Because despite all of that, I’ve noticed she’s pretty too.
The last time I was in this manor, I was running for my life.
I’d slipped down the twist of hallways in the early hours of morning, and I’d vowed to never return.
I hadn’t paid attention to the primitive architecture or the dark furnishings.
Now, with Cora as some sort of miniature body guard, I allow myself to study Sebastian Vulce’s infamous home.
The wood floors are scratched and in need of proper cleaning. The walls are dark and the decor is minimal. There isn’t any furniture in the main entryway, but I spot a few velvet couches as we maneuver the halls. Oil paintings surround us, depicting various scenes of vampiric gore.
Vampires are far too proud of their own cruelty.
When we take an unexpected turn, away from Cora’s quarters, rather than toward them, I halt. I press a hand to Henry’s chest, stopping him too.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“The courtyard,” she says. She pauses. Turns to look at us. Regards me with an unimpressed, raised eyebrow.
“Not your quarters?” I ask. Then, though she obviously knows, I add, “They’re warded.”