Chapter 29
We make it to Achien, but the rain has only gotten worse.
Sheets of it blur the windshield, drowning out the headlights behind us.
And, of course, another gate has opened—news that has Amarah wound tight enough to snap.
She keeps insisting it must be because of her.
She’s worried Belial somehow knows she’s trying to open the gates against their laws, and is trying to get to her.
She’s wrong. I know she’s wrong. But logic doesn’t do much against fear.
I’ve told her a dozen times she isn’t the cause. She said Vendra mentioned a “deal,” which I wisely chose not to comment on, but she’s still convinced she’s the problem.
A car accident up ahead has the highway backed up for miles, and with the downpour only getting worse, I finally pull off. No sense idling in the truck while she shivers beside me, pretending she isn’t cold.
The town we end up in is the kind built for truckers and strays. One of those places with a single store that sells everything from soup cans to spare tires, a gas station, and one sad hotel squatting in the middle of it all.
And, of course, everyone else stuck in this storm had the exact same idea we did: find a place to rest for the night.
There’s only one room left. And based on the clerk’s comment about “no more roll-out beds,” it’s safe to assume it has just one bed.
Amarah is going to love this.
After paying with Atlas’s card—thanks, buddy—I head back out to the truck idling under the overhang. I slip into the driver’s seat and pull us into the lot.
“No rooms?” she asks, sounding genuinely disappointed, but not in a complaining way. She never complains, no matter where she’s had to sleep.
“I got us one.”
She lets out a breath of relief and unclicks her seatbelt. “Thank Vendra herself. I could use a shower.”
She reaches for the door handle but I grab her upper arm, stopping her.
“I parked on this side because the room is right there.” I point to the second-floor railing. “But it’s raining, and you’re pants-less.”
She glances down at her bare legs and rolls her eyes. “I probably should’ve walked through the lobby.”
“Uh, no.” I shake my head hard enough to rattle something. “There were a ton of people in there, and that’s a fucking no.”
She clicks her tongue, dramatic as ever. “You’re so weird…”
Not weird. Possessive.
“Cover yourself as best you can with my jacket.”
She snatches it from me, muttering, “Surprised you aren’t grabbing me and running me in.” Then she throws it over her head like some makeshift cloak.
As soon as I let her go, she bolts out of the truck. I was going to take her in, but she’d get far wetter than just running herself.
The thought of her wet…
Stop it.
I grab our bags, rush to the side door, and wait for her to cross the ten-foot gap.
The moment we step into the hotel’s side entrance, I scoop her up without hesitation.
“Kayn, I can—” I get her up the stairs, down the hall, and to our door by the time she finishes “—walk. Gods almighty.”
I set her down, hand her the keycard, and accept the full-force glare she levels at me. She places her hands onto her hips, which pulls my shirt tight against her curved waist.
“Don’t be mad. The hotel is packed, and you only have a shirt on.”
“Nooo,” she drawls, exasperated. “I have a bra and panties on. And this is basically a dress.”
“It’s a shirt,” I counter, completely unfazed. “Now go inside.” I nod toward the door. “I’m going to grab you something from the convenience store. You’re just lactose intolerant right?”
Atlas did most of the food runs during our time together, and I’m not entirely sure whether Amarah ever told him about any additional allergies.
The door beeps softly as she slowly looks over her shoulder at me. “You… remember that?”
“Well, yes. Your lack of faith in my intellect is starting to hurt my feelings.”
Her lips tip into a soft smile as she shakes her head, a shy blush blooming across her cheeks before she turns away.
Godsdamn it. I’m obsessed with this girl.
“No other allergies. Thanks.” She pushes the door open, and I hold out her duffle. Her eyes drop to it, confusion flickering across her face.
“Oh… You got a second room?”
Fuck me, the way she says that sounds disappointed.
“Yeah.” I keep it short because I don’t want to furtherment the lie. “I’ll go grab you a bite to eat, then I need to find something for myself. It’s been… too long since I’ve fed.”
Her swallow is loud enough for even a Mundane to hear, the bag shifting in her grip. “When was the last time?”
I haven’t fed since the night I got drunk and said too much through the bond. Feeding isn’t just feeding. Not for me. It’s indulgence. And after everything with her, doing that on anyone that isn’t… her or Lucifer, it feels wrong.
No, it is wrong.
“It’s been a while. Too long,” I finally say after a brief pause.
“You said…” Her voice trails off and she shifts so the door hides half her face, humming nervously under her breath. “Okay. I’m suddenly not hungry. I’m going to shower and go to bed.”
“You sure? I can grab something before—”
“Yes. Goodnight, Butcher.”
She slams the door in my face.
Great.
What in the actual fuck did I do now?
433 Years Ago
Something feels off this morning. Maybe it’s the incredible sleep I just got—uninterrupted. And I’m pretty sure I dreamed for the first time since turning into a Vampire.
Both Lucifer and I indulged quite a bit last night, more so on his part, than ever before. I didn’t question it because Gods, do I love the feeling. And he let me get drunk on him. It was blissful, and I admit, I’ll be asking for more nights like that in the future.
I manage to roll over and, to my surprise, the bed is empty beside me. Although he usually gets up before me, he’s been staying until we’re both ready to move.
What’s stranger is that I don’t hear any movement in my apartment.
Throwing the sheet off, I get out of bed and head to the bathroom. Empty. Then to the living room, the kitchen, the spare bedroom—everything is void of a presence. Not even Zuhara is around.
It’s possible he just went out, so I won’t make a big deal about him leaving without saying anything. Although the thought of punishing him does intrigue me. He’s been such a good boy lately, I’ve had no reason to tie him up, put a cock ring on him, and deny him until he’s a mess begging to come.
On second thought—yeah. I think I’ll overreact and do just that.
I head back to the bedroom and grab my phone, immediately dialing him. Putting it on speaker, it rings… and rings… and rings. It goes to voicemail, and I tut.
“You’ve never not answered my call, little deviant. That’s strike two. The first was leaving without waking me to let me know where you were going.” I hang up and tuck the phone into my pocket.
I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll see him in a few hours.
Hours turn into a day.
A single day turns into a week.
A week turns into a month.
I’m not sure if waiting as long as I did hurt my chances of finding him up here or not, but I didn’t want to leave only for him to show back up. His phone disconnected a week after he vanished, and I didn’t want him thinking I’d left.
But now I can’t wait around any longer.
It’s why I’m back up at our mountain—the one where I met him, where we spent days, weeks, months together. Zuhara loves the freedom and isn’t pestered by Mundanes or other Dylox. Plus, it’s special to us, so why wouldn’t we want to spend time here?
I think that’s where my hope is coming from. That maybe something happened and he couldn’t come back to my place. Or maybe he thought I wouldn’t come up here, and I’d catch his ass trying to leave me.
Pfft.
Little does he know I’m infatuated, and he’s mine. He isn’t allowed to leave me.
But as my time up here stretches from minutes into hours, I’m starting to feel like maybe it was the latter after all. Maybe he was done with me. Maybe he’d had his fill.
The more I think about it, the more that night we overindulged makes sense. If he wanted to leave, he would’ve needed to be sustained for a while.
He did warn me he was transient. That his kind… didn’t hold onto love.
Godsdamn that Incubus.
“You’re far from the trail,” I hear an older man say just as I’m about to punch my tenth tree straight down the rocky slope.
I turn, seeing a man with wrinkles from chin to forehead, white hair with a matching beard, and a wide, friendly smile. He’s talking about me being far off the trail—what about him? How the Beyond did he even get up here?
I sigh, dragging my fingers through my hair. “You gonna need help down, grandpa?”
“Nope. I’m pretty spry for someone my age.” He clasps his hands behind his back. “What has you all the way up here?”
A deep, throbbing pit forms in my chest. “Delusion.”
“Such a powerful thing. Delusion,” he hums. “Can make people disregard logic.”
I nod and look away from him, out across the canyons hugged by snowcapped mountains and towering pines.
“Well… maybe it’s for the best,” he murmurs as his voice grows faint. “Good luck with whatever you’re seeking, son.”
I think… this is what heartbreak feels like.
It’s the same sensation I felt losing my dads, my siblings, anyone I’ve ever cared about, to that thing called mortality. Like a piece of me is gone, leaving me hopeless and shattered. Expected to put myself back together when it feels impossible because half the pieces are missing.
Did he really just leave me? Like we were nothing at all?
What the fuck, Lucifer…
I’ve been staring at the convenience store options for about ten minutes.
I know she’s hungry. I heard her stomach a handful of times before we reached the hotel. And honestly, I was hoping they’d have bagged blood, but not to my surprise, they don’t.
Places like this have switched to those cheap pouches now, which are somehow even more disgusting than the synthetic stuff most places carry. High-end restaurants and grocery stores have donated blood, but a little town like this? No chance.
I’ll just wait until we reach a bigger city tomorrow.