Chapter Thirty-One #3
“When did you become so kinky?” she asks, and despite the fact she’s just gotten me off, Aliz slips a hand back beneath my skirt.
A few seconds later, she pulls out, making a face.
“We’ve got company,” she says. I remember hearing those exact same words from her lips when I first encountered her, right here, on the fifth floor of the library.
Aliz wraps my scarf around my neck, making sure that the mark isn’t visible, before we walk out from behind the book aisles, trying to act normal.
Julia stares right back at us, holding a couple of books.
Her nose twitches, and I remember her saying that she could smell Aliz on me.
I don’t want to even think of what she picks up now.
“Studying?” I ask awkwardly. Julia looks at Aliz for a moment, her expression not exactly a picture of joy.
“Yeah,” she says, “We’ve got an exam tomorrow, Astra.”
“Ah, you’re right,” Aliz says. “Can’t wait.”
I don’t know if I should apologise, but that would just make things more awkward. “I think she doesn’t like me,” Aliz whispers, once we’re heading back down the staircase. “Which is a first.”
“I wouldn’t like you, either, if it wasn’t for this pesky mark,” I tease, and Aliz glares at me.
“Maybe she likes you,” she says.
“Don’t be silly,” I say.
“What? You’re cute. Your blood smells nice. But it’s weird. I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere. And not in class.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s familiar. I just can’t put my finger on why.”
I think of what Julia said about Aliz’s dad visiting her in her dreams. Julia was only converted four years ago but possesses abilities other vampires do not.
So maybe she was sired by an Astra. Aliz lets go of my hand when we reach the ground floor of the library, and only as we leave it, the place where I first saw her, do I realise that she’ll quite possibly never touch me like that again.
The nook is in front of us, rose and candle filling the ancient rock with a red glow.
“Well, this is it,” Elia says as she picks up the rose. She clasps the stem tight in her hand, piercing her skin with its thorns. She then holds her bleeding hand over the candle, allowing the flame to lick her wound. She must have done this a thousand times, because she barely even winces.
Aliz copies her, clasping her hand around the stem, and hisses as the thorns dig into her.
And something truly bizarre happens this time, because as the rose drinks her blood, it grows new leaves, and the flower’s petals part a little wider.
Fast, before her wound heals, she holds it over the candle, allowing her blood to mingle with the flame. “Ouch,” she says.
“You should stay back,” I say when it’s my turn. Aliz gives a short nod, stepping as far back as she can, pressing herself against the wall.
She pegs her nose and says, “I’m ready.”
I take the rose, and its thorns feel like shards of glass.
I crush it against my palm, stifling my reaction as the stem grows an inch longer, more leaves unfurling.
Aliz clears her throat, and I hold my bleeding hand over the candle, skin scalding as it meets the flame.
I bite my tongue to keep myself from crying out.
“Here,” Elia says, and she clearly came prepared, because after taking the rose and candle, she hands me a damp wipe and a bunch of plasters.
I set about tending to my wounds, before looking over at Aliz.
She’s extremely tense, her face twisted with pain.
Her eyes have taken on a burgundy hue, and she looks away immediately.
When I wipe the blood from my hands, I find the small wounds have already vanished.
What the fuck? This is the second time that a wound has healed much faster than it should have.
So maybe I’ve started to gain some of those physical abilities Nocth told me Blood Familiars possess.
“All right, ladies,” Elia says, holding up both the rose and the candle. “Follow me.”
I swallow hard. This is it. Freedom within my reach.
Elia uses her elbow to open the left door, the darkness beckoning us in.
Both Aliz and I hesitate, remembering the horrors of the hallway.
“Hurry up,” Elia says. When we step in, the door doesn’t slam shut behind us.
Aliz takes my hand, and only then do I realise mine had been shaking.
I take a careful breath, waiting for the river to come crashing towards me, but instead, the hallway changes.
Stone vines, with intricate roses and sculptures on either side, bloom from the walls.
The sculptures, I realise, are identical to those at the centre of the hedge maze, depicting the different phases of the moon.
But here they’re not missing any limbs. Lanterns with blue flames appear on the walls, illuminating them, and in the distance, a pair of colossal wooden doors cut through the stone.
Elia materialises again, her steps louder than they were before.
Elia turns to look at us, gaze flickering down to our linked hands. “Ada compelled one of Scotland’s best witches to protect this place.”
“A witch!” Aliz exclaims.
“And then she drained her.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Well.” Elia’s heels click on the floor. Her voice carries an echo to it now. “The witch in question was fond of sacrificing babies in order to maintain her youth. So, in a way, Ada did the world a favour.”
“Huh,” says Aliz, and I can tell she’s forcing herself to sound calm.
There are two wooden plinths at either side of the giant doors, decorated with the Astra crest, identical to what covers the upper half of my torso.
Elia places the rose on one side, the candle on the other, and automatically, the doors creak open.
“You go in first,” Aliz says, looking at Elia. “I have to talk to Cassie.”
“Don’t take too long,” Elia says, winking at me before disappearing into the darkness beyond the doors.
As soon as we’re alone, awkwardness cements itself between us. “This is it,” I say, breaking the silence. Her hand is cold against mine.
“Thanks for putting up with me these last few weeks,” she says, forcing a smile. “We’ll still be friends, won’t we?”
The pain in my chest tightens, and I cup her face, taking in the features that I’ve come to know as well as my own reflection.
Her black eyes, fringed by white lashes.
Her pale hair which marks her as the sole heir to the Astras.
Her full lips that I could kiss for days on end.
I run my thumb across them and convince myself that this pain is the summit.
After this, forgetting her will only get easier.
“Friends,” I whisper.
Her eyes search mine, and after a moment’s hesitation, her lips are on mine, desperate, hungry. Her voice is caught in her throat when she pulls back. “I wish I could feel this way forever,” she says, holding me closer. “Love you like this.”
I shiver, feeling tears burning the corners of my eyes. “Maybe you can,” I say, and Aliz tightens her grip on me.
“No,” she replies, voice so low that I barely hear her, even with her lips against my ear. “If this was real, it would ruin your life. I would have to send you to the other end of the world, so our paths never cross. So he never finds you.”
I may not have met her father, but even I know he wouldn’t approve of our relationship.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, pulling back an inch. She doesn’t loosen her grip on me.
“Then I’ll be the one to leave.”
I grab a fistful of her hair, pulling until she winces.
And with that pained expression, I draw her to me for one last kiss, doing all that I can to hold back tears, to not feel.
This might be the end. I may never have her like this again.
I’ll become her human roommate, who she’ll tease but never want.
And damn it, I want her to want me, regardless of what I am.
She draws away, still cupping my cheek. “I love you,” she says one last time.
Before Elia can ask what’s taking us so long, we manage to put distance between us. Aliz goes first, pulling the door towards her and holding it open for me. I step through, using the split second I have without her attention to rub away tears before they fall. Before she notices them.
There’s a short hallway, and at the edge of it, a balcony, flanked by a low, but very wide stairwell. Aliz stops beside me, her mouth open, eyes wide.
In my mind, ever since Penny first told me about it, I could only imagine the hidden library as small and narrow.
Just a few bookcases with some form of protection to keep their forbidden contents from the wretched hands of people like me.
And after seeing the hedge maze with the rosebush at its centre, I’d figured it had to be a fraction of the size of the labyrinth protecting it.
But instead, as gas lamps slowly flicker on, I find a great hall that rivals the dimensions of Kinsnet.
“Is this real?” Aliz asks, stealing my words before I can utter them.
“Your sister lived for nine hundred years,” Elia says from the bottom floor, sitting on a wooden table. “One collects a lot of books over the centuries.”
We make it to the bottom, and I feel the hall growing cold. Aliz is still wonderstruck, looking up at the balconies circling the hall, with their countless bookcases. “And I thought the library at home was big,” she says wistfully.
“I asked Father if we could build another wing to allow for more books, but he said no.”
The voice, with its thick continental accent, echoes against the walls. We all look up, and she’s on the second floor, legs dangling over the edge. Her white hair cascades down to her ankles, matted, full of knots. Her eyes glow bright blue.
“Hello, Ada,” Elia calls.