Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
My heart is still hammering from my encounter with Riven by the time I near the apartment.
The streets are quieter now, eerily so. The orange haze of the lanterns paint the cobblestones in streaks of dying gold.
Somewhere far off, a bell tolls the late hour.
I shove my hands into my cloak, trying to shake the echo of Riven’s chilling words.
Whoever attacked you in the Archives won’t be the only one hunting you now.
The thought loops in my mind, gnawing at my already frayed nerves as I turn down the narrow street toward our apartment. The weary relief I feel at the familiar sight of the cracked stairwell and crooked sign evaporates instantly as my eyes land on the foreign dark shadow across the threshold.
A figure collapsed across the doorway.
And someone crouched beside it.
“Stryx?” I freeze for half a second before sprinting forward. “Stryx!”
Her silver hair flashes in the dim light as she looks up, wide-eyed. Her hands are slick with something dark. “Octavia don’t–”
But I’m already on my knees beside her. The smell hits me first. Blood, thick and metallic. It pools beneath my knees, flowing from the still body that Stryx is leaning over.
“Stryx, are you okay? What happened?” I blurt out, scanning my friend for injuries, but thankfully finding none.
“I’m okay,” she insists, her voice trembling. “But Octavia, it’s—it’s–”
I follow her stricken gaze down to the body lying between us and the woman’s dark head lolls to the side, revealing her face. My stomach drops.
“Vesper?” I choke out, bile rising in my throat as panic immediately sets in.
I reach out with trembling fingers, brushing her cheek, sickly pale from blood loss. The blood smears across her face beneath my touch. My pulse quickens as I start to lose myself to my panic.
Stryx shakes her head quickly, her words fast and panicked. “I don’t know what happened, I found her like this. I woke up and you were gone. I was going to look for you when I found her lying here–”
I press two fingers to Vesper’s throat and find a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there. “She’s alive,” I breathe. “Barely.”
“How could she have even got here?” Stryx asks, terror threading her voice. “She was at Xavier’s–”
I don’t answer, too busy trying to stem the bleeding, but it is near impossible to tell where it’s all coming from.
Like the other murders, there are no clear wounds, just blood, endless blood soaking through Vesper’s nightclothes, and I’m powerless to stop it.
I frantically start searching every inch of skin, desperately trying to find the source of the bleeding, but as I pull up her sleeves and reveal her wrist, I stop breathing entirely.
She has a magpie tattoo.
“Get Xavier, now!” I shout at Stryx, terror making my voice shrill. My hands start to shake uncontrollably as I watch Vesper helplessly, Stryx jumping to her feet and running back inside to find Quill.
Seconds feel like hours as I wait for Stryx to return, Vesper’s breaths starting to rattle in a way that makes my stomach hollow out. The copper scent of blood fills the air, thick enough to taste, and a deep sense of foreboding starts to take over me that, for once, isn’t brought on by my Shadow.
Stryx returns to my side breathless, her expression dark, her blue eyes reflecting the dim light like a brewing storm. “Quill sent a message to Xavier, but there’s no reply. I don’t know where he is.”
I swallow thickly as I return my gaze to his twin, moments from death in my arms. This can't be happening, it can’t.
Tears prick my eyes as I desperately try to think of anything we can do to save her. My heart lurches when I notice Stryx’s crescent moon tattoo on her forehead glowing faintly.
“Your magic, you still have some?” I ask, trying not to give in to the hope rising in my chest, knowing how much it will take to even make the smallest difference. She grimaces, confirming my suspicions, but rests her hands on Vesper’s head regardless.
“It feels the same,” she murmurs. “The same magic that attacked us in the Archives.”
I freeze. “You’re sure?”
Stryx nods slowly, tears starting to flow down her pale face. “Only stronger this time. I—I don’t think I can stop this.”
I look down at Vesper, her skin streaked with red, and my throat tightens. She’s going to die.
We can’t save her.
Suddenly, Vesper lurches up and grabs me, gasping rapidly as her panicked eyes pin on mine. “Riven—he–” She chokes up blood. “He has the Codex, he—he needs to be stopped–”
My heart palpitates mercilessly at his name. “What? I don’t understand–”
But she slumps back into my arms, her body too still, her eyes wet with unshed tears staring lifelessly up at me.
“No—Vesper, please!” I shake her shoulders, but her head rocks limply back and forth, her eyes unseeing.
“She’s dead,” Stryx whispers through her tears, knotting her fingers together, her pointed ears pressing back against her head in fear. “Riven, did he do this? What did she mean?”
I shake my head slowly, shock setting in and making my mind scatter to the point I can barely harness a single thought.
I grit my teeth and close my eyes, counting to ten and tapping my fingers repeatedly as I breathe deeply, trying to settle my panic.
I try to forget the body in my arms is Vesper and imagine it’s just another stranger, compartmentalising my pain so I can deal with this like I would any other murder.
I take another long breath in, and open my eyes, my panic subsiding enough for me to think.
“Riven was the one who saved you, Stryx. He brought us back here,” I say slowly, rationalising my thoughts into the most logical conclusion. “He was with me minutes ago, so unless he can somehow be in two places at once, I don’t think it’s possible he did this.”
Stryx nods slowly, her eyes narrowing as she tries to think clearly too. “Do you think she was talking about the Codex of Thorns? The one we read about?”
“It has to be. It’s too much of a coincidence,” I agree, sniffing as I swipe away my tears, my voice breaking. “Stryx, she has the same tattoo.”
She gasps as she grabs Vesper’s hand, her mouth hanging open as she turns to me wide-eyed. “Octavia, there’s no way Xavier didn’t know about this, surely? Unless she hid it from him?”
Fuck. Xavier. I swallow hard as my panic threatens to return tenfold, my tears flowing uncontrollably. “We need to find him. Oh Gods, he’s going to be beside himself–”
Stryx places her hand gently on my shoulder, the contact grounding me before I start to spiral any further. “I’ll send word to the Division. We need to solve this case before anyone else dies.”
We fall silent for a while and exchange a look, both knowing this likely won’t be the last body sacrificed to this twisted puzzle.
Vesper’s hand falls limply from under the linen as two wardens take her away on a cart, the creaking of the wooden wheels over the cobblestones a sharp contrast to the muted murmurings of the numerous people around us.
Starling arrived on the scene minutes ago in a storm of authority, his cloak snapping in the wind.
He surveys the scene, fury and unease battling it out in his gaze before it falls to me where I sit on the front steps leading up to my apartment.
Even before he speaks, his expression says it all; panic thinly disguised as control. He’s rattled.
The wardens part for him as he closes in on Stryx and me. “Detective Wren,” he snaps, eyes flicking from me to the blood pooled on the threshold. “You want to tell me why we currently appear to have more corpses than leads? And where in the Voyd is Blackwood?”
He looks around like Xavier will materialise out of thin air, and even in my current state of shock, it takes all my effort not to roll my eyes. I straighten, my exhaustion and grief weighing on me heavily, but I refuse to let him see it.
“I left Detective Blackwood with his sister earlier today,” I say, trying to control the tremble in my voice.
“My assistant Stryx and I were following up on a lead in the Archives when we were attacked, and Vesper turned up on our doorstep shortly after, covered in blood. We did what we could, but it was too late to save her. I don’t know where Blackwood is, but if his sister turned up here alone, I worry for his safety. He isn’t responding to our Quill.”
Panic flashes in the Chief’s eyes, but he recovers quickly, clearing his throat as he regards me shrewdly.
He rubs at the bridge of his nose, muttering a curse under his breath before jerking his chin toward two nearby wardens.
“Find Blackwood. Now. I don’t care if you have to knock on every Voyding door in Velmora. ”
The men hurry off and Starling looks back to us, his tone clipped. “I want a full statement from both of you, every detail and no omissions. This is getting out of hand.”
I feel Stryx’s gaze flick toward me, questioning, but she stays silent, as do I. There’s too much at stake now to give anything away, even to the Chief.
We recount what we can as he asks us question after question, but despite his demands, I decide to omit the parts involving Riven.
I still can’t be certain of their relationship, and until I am, I need to keep that information to myself.
When he presses for details, I deflect with carefully chosen half-truths.
He studies me in silence, his eyes narrowing slightly, and I wonder if he’s starting to suspect more than he’s letting on, but finally, he lets it drop.
“The Council’s breathing down my neck,” he mutters, folding his arms as he stares at the chaos of the scene around us. “We’re knee-deep in corpses and so far, we have nothing to show for it. I need answers, Wren, and quickly, or I have no doubt it’ll be one of us in the morgue next.”
I square my shoulders, determination setting in.
“Chief, I can solve this,” I say firmly.
“With or without Blackwood. I don’t need a chaperone, I just need access to everything you’ve got, all the evidence, all the reports.
Let me do my own experiments and examinations.
Keeping me on a leash is holding me back, so if you want answers, then let me do my job and get them for you. ”
He stares at me for a long moment, then exhales heavily, running a hand through his greying hair. “Fine,” he mutters. “You’ve got full access. But if this goes wrong again, Wren, it’s on your head.”
I incline my head. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The Chief grunts like he’s already regretting his decision, barking orders at the wardens as he turns to leave. The sound of his boots fades around the corner, and I exhale deeply, the tension finally uncoiling from my spine.
Stryx breaks the silence with a frightened whisper. “Do you trust him?”
I look towards the street corner where Starling vanished before returning my gaze to the blood drying dark on our threshold.
“No,” I reply. “Right now, I don’t think I can trust anyone, not even my own judgement.”