The Child of Rue Royale (The Scarlet Eternal #2)

Chapter Dear Bastian

DEAR BASTIAN,

Broken hearts must continue beating or perish. So I continue. I get up in the morning, I endure the day, and then I write it all in this journal for you to read when you’re back in my arms.

Though I began telling you about Cassius’s desperate phone call, it became too much to write (pregnancy makes you so tired, Bastian—if you were here I’d bore you to death with all the sleeping).

But allow me to finish the tale of the most bizarre thing that has happened, and when I say bizarre, I mean it.

Because Cassius is head over heels in love, and I didn’t truly believe it until I saw it with my own two eyes.

When I reached Comey’s just minutes after hanging up with Cassius, Oksana leaned in the doorway of the French Quarter bar, arms crossed, and when our eyes met, her top lip curled up as if she smelled something rotten.

“Took you long enough,” she remarked, and her English accent tasted more bitter than espresso.

I followed her, wondering where the HUMAN manager of Comey’s gets the nerve.

Music blared from the tiny stage as Oksana and I twisted and turned to get through the crowd.

Another busy night in the French Quarter, another night I’ve rushed to the vampires.

Oksana opened the door for me to go upstairs to Nightwalkers, your vampire speakeasy above Comey’s, and feelings assaulted me. Something like déjà vu—a deep nostalgia hit me from the first night you and I had seen each other in years.

I paused on the step, taking a moment to collect the wave of emotions that flooded my memory.

I am the last true witch of New Orleans who fell in love with the forbidden vampire.

How things came together and fell apart so quickly.

And I had to remind myself that your smile would not be greeting me when I entered the room.

In fact, I had no idea what would be greeting me.

“Please save her,” were the desperate words Cassius uttered across the phone line mere minutes before.

It was the first time I had heard from him since your death, three months ago.

“I’m in love, and I need you to save her.

If anyone can do it, it’s you.” The vampire who had sworn off love was in love and was begging me to save her human life.

So I went, doing what you would have wanted me to do.

Oksana slammed the door behind me, prompting me of the urgency, so I ascended the stairs.

The glass on the new Nightwalkers sign reminded me that I blew out the old one the night we came for revenge.

The night your mother killed Franklin Maltese, The Vampire King of Louisiana, because he tried to kill me, but instead killed you, the love of my life.

All because Franklin found out about our forbidden affair.

Remember the night Franklin confronted us in your house?

When I threw him around like a rag doll?

Well, I wounded his misogynistic pride, so of course, he tried to kill me by setting fire to my home.

But it wasn’t me that was home. It was you, my beloved, and we lost you.

When Mother, Chantal, and Jade showed up to Nightwalkers for revenge, we found Franklin had a protection spell placed on him by a mystery witch.

So it wasn’t us that killed him that night, no, it was Nicola, (always your doting mother) who drove the stake through his chest, avenging your death.

That night our mothers shook their blood-coated hands, and we all promised that what happened in those walls was to stay between the seven of us.

Cassius’s yelling—no, screeching—reverberated through the door, forcing me from my memories.

I rushed to open it, and my eyes fixed on a young woman lying on the floor, her curly black hair pooled around her face like an oil spill.

Cassius was on his knees, clutching her hand and pressing a cloth on her chest.

The room was dark as usual, void of the haunting music that usually played, of the clientele that always congregated inside. And in the quiet, I could tell that life was leaving her; I could smell it as her chest barely moved. The woman was dying.

Searching the room, I saw Cassius and Amerie and next to them, a vampire I did not recognize. Amerie, your family’s faithful vampire companion, ran to me, pleading, her weeping eyes begging me to help Cassius, help him.

“She’s here,” the unfamiliar vampire with dark blond hair said, pointing at me, and Cassius looked up at me.

Pulling the girl’s hand to his heart, his blood-rimmed eyes penetrated mine, and I could almost see myself, Bastian.

Your hand in mine, begging the universe for you to survive the rays of sunlight that threatened to burn your body to cinders.

But your fingers turned to ash, right inside of mine, and you were no more.

I felt Cassius’s pain as he mouthed, I love her. Then he swallowed and gave life to the words that spun in his brain.

“You must do something, please. I can’t turn her. Please, do something.” He turned to the dark blond vampire. “Mathius, make room.”

“A human,” I said, shaking my head because her fragility terrified me. “Why haven’t you taken her to a hospital?”

“It’s too late for that,” he cried, the torment in his eyes heavy as an anchor, his long brown hair pulled at the nape of his neck, yet pieces dangled from the sides as if he were trying to rip his own hair out.

“It’s you save her, or she gets turned. And you know I’ll never forgive myself if she gets turned. ”

Cassius’s guilt over turning you into a vampire emanated from his body, a man so remorseful from creating one vampire that there was no way he could withstand creating two. Even though Nicola adopted you and raised you as her own, it seems Cassius will never forgive himself for creating you.

I looked back at the poor human on the floor.

She was so lovely, Bastian. I could see why she was so precious to Cassius, and it wasn’t just her outward beauty, but her aura—a light inside of her, a ferocity.

Something they would surely ruin, and forgive me for saying that but I worry it’s the truth.

Yet, I did what you would have wanted. Looking at Cassius, I said, “I’ll do my best,” then knelt beside her body.

“Let me,” I said, gesturing to the wound on her chest, her white tank top, blood-soaked and ripped in half.

Cassius moved his hand away as mine peeked under the cloth, proving my fear correct.

A deep bite into the fat of her breast that wasn’t just two simple fang marks, but multiple across the top, like she was being marked then drained.

This was intentional, this was malicious.

“What the fuck is this?” I yelled, my stomach turning weak on me. It happens more and more these days.

“The potions won’t heal it,” Amerie whispered. “Our blood won’t fix it. What do we do?” Amerie’s concern surprised me. Did she care about this human?

Grabbing my bag, I pulled out my grimoire, Winnie, and shook my head. “My potions are for small cuts; the creams aren’t meant to cure trauma wounds.”

I grabbed a thin blue candle for healing from my bag, lighting it as my mind tried to construct an appropriate spell, and then looked at Cassius.

“Hold this over the wounds,” I ordered.

He looked at me, confused, and I widened my eyes.

“Cassius!” I shouted, and within a millisecond, his cold pinky grazed mine, grabbing the candle…

and that skin. That cold skin reminded me of what it felt like to be near a vampire, near you.

My vampire. I blew out my cheeks and shook my head.

Pregnancy makes you a hormonal mess, but I’m sure the grief doesn’t help.

At four months pregnant, it’s one of the few signs that I’m carrying a child.

My clothes are slightly tighter, there’s nausea, and there’s crying. A lot of crying.

“What do I do?” Cassius asked with urgency.

“Just hold it.” I pulled out a piece of muslin and scissors, then haphazardly cut it into a heart shape large enough to cover the wounds. I placed it over the oozing holes along her chest, making sure every bite was covered.

Carefully, I took the candle from Cassius’s hand, ensuring not to touch his skin again.

The melted wax pooled at the top of the candle, the healing magic bubbling, waiting to be released.

Gently, so very gently, I dropped small circles of wax around the heart shape.

Cassius’s breathing was heavy and warm against my cheek, and it felt like I was breathing in his anxiety.

Telling someone to calm down when they are a wreck never helps, so I pushed him out of my mind and focused on the spell at hand, dripping the wax until the heart was sealed to her chest. She would have minor welts from the wax, but she would be alive.

“You can do it,” Cassius whispered. “You can do this.”

With every ounce of confidence I could muster, I met his gaze and said, “I will.”

Raising a palm to my mouth, I ran my tongue from wrist to fingertips, then sprawled my hands over the wound.

Time was running out; her breathing became slighter and slighter, and I needed to get the blood pumping back through her system.

I’m no doctor, Bastian. But I have magic on my side, magic that knew exactly what to heal inside her body in order to save her. The groundwork was set.

“Sana vulnus! Sana sanguinem!” I shouted. Electricity crackled at the ends of my fingers, collecting from my palms to the pointy tips of my nails. Power molded around my entire hands, and I placed them over the muslin heart, over the flesh that surrounded it, demanding the wounds be healed.

“Sana vulnus! Sana sanguinem!” I focused on her, her heartbeat, her blood pumping through her veins.

I didn’t look at my surroundings, not Cassius’s face paralyzed from panic, not Amerie hovering over me with bated breath.

I pushed the magic from my fingers, that lightheadedness I feel when the magic is working tickled my brain, pushed down my spine, and infiltrated my rib cage.

There was a tightening in my core, which told me I was on the right track.

As the last words left my lips, it began. First, it was the pink returning to her cheeks, then a sharp intake of air filling her lungs. This magic was fast and furious, and I could see she was immediately out of the woods, her life had returned to her, and she was healing from the inside out.

Her eyes flit open—the lightest shade of brown, like a fresh batch of caramel. No wonder Cassius is smitten, Bastian. She is a wonder.

He scooped his girl into his arms so swiftly, a gasp escaped her lips.

“Ma petite cherie,” he sighed, and it was like a dagger to my aorta because I miss you so much.

There’s a hole inside me now, a hole where you used to be.

How you held me, whispered in my ear. Those thoughts swirled in my mind at that very moment, and that’s when I started to sway.

That kind of magic takes a toll on the body, and the emotions mixed with the spell forced me to close my eyes and take slow, deep breaths.

A hand steadied me, and I opened my eyes to meet Cassius examining me.

It hit me why I’ve stayed away from them, and a range of emotion swept through my bones.

They remind me of you. And they blame me for your death.

I blame myself too. I’m too prideful to grovel, to beg them to forgive me.

They don’t want my apologies, and they don’t want my gratitude.

Neither will bring you back. Only I can do that.

Cassius looked at my belly, mostly flat to the naked eye, no signs of the life growing inside.

But I knew he could hear the heartbeat, I knew it meant something to him, I’m just not sure what.

His gaze swept back and forth from me and his little rosebud, his love.

A young woman, not a witch nor a vampire—a human that could never understand such a complex existence, a woman that would always be in danger.

I yanked my arm from his grasp as anger filled my veins. Angry that he treated me like a stranger the last few months, angry he only called when he needed something. I gathered my balance, and he looked back to her, whispering words into her ear that I couldn’t hear, nor did I want to.

That’s why—and you might not like this part, but I couldn’t help myself—I yearned to warn her. Now I realize it was a mixture of fury and jealousy, and I could come to regret it, but I had to say something. But based upon the lovesick look in her eyes, my words would make no difference.

I leaned down, slipping my pointer finger under the heart attached to her skin by wax, and pulled it off. She looked down at her chest and back up to me, her eyes filling with tears. And then I heard Cassius.

“Thank you, Aster. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my forsaken heart.”

Instead of saying the proper and polite thing, I leaned in, placed my mouth next to the girl’s ear, and whispered so lightly. “Ma petite cherie, run for your life.” Always the spiteful witch, I know. And believe I regret uttering those words now, I do.

Her eyes flickered, surely still in pain yet so entranced by me, so I squeezed her arm, hoping she would heed my warning.

Instead, she pulled her arm from my grasp and brought her hand up to stroke his face, and at that, his head fell to her stomach, and there he wept as her arms encircled him.

So, I rose. He looked up at me, mouth opening to speak, inspecting me up and down as I pulled my coat tighter around myself, smoothing out my dress while I eyed him sternly.

Vampires gathered around me; some I recognized, some I didn’t.

I had to get out of there—I did what I went to do.

Pulling the hood over my head, I made it through the door, and then I saw her—Nicola running up the stairs, and a look of shared grief passed between us.

She stormed past me, once again ignoring my existence and I just stood there.

Just stood there to take in all that transpired in those ten minutes.

I could’ve cried from the pain of losing you, from being in the vampire den where I almost died a few months ago.

But something else hit me, something surprising.

And I laughed.

A smile formed on my lips as I took each step carefully. That overwhelming feeling of hope invaded my body, and my heart fluttered at my abilities, at my control of our future. Because my magic had just saved a woman’s life, and I became even more confident it would bring back yours.