Chapter 15
Laurent kept watch beside Lily’s bed, leaving only when necessary.
She dreamed, but her dreams were not entirely her own.
She muttered in her sleep, words and names, not from people in her life but his.
He’d given her a great deal of blood. Blood carried memories.
The question was, which of his did she now carry?
On the second day, her eyes flew open and she sucked in a breath.
He immediately came alert, using his senses to take her vitals. Seconds passed. She appeared calm at first, then her breathing turned rapid. She jerked upright, those blue eyes falling upon him with crushing weight.
“Little flower,” he murmured, keeping his voice low.
The whites of her eyes grew at the sight of him, and her heart exploded into a frantic rhythm. Like a rabbit cornered by a predator, it hammered against her ribs so violently he wondered the organ didn’t simply give out.
He lifted his hands, keeping his words softer than usual. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”
She whimpered, gaze darting over him. It was as if she were seeing a monster rather than her rescuer, and perhaps she was right to.
What he witnessed within the depths of her eyes made his hands tighten into fists.
There was nothing of the usual way she regarded him.
There was recognition, yes, but it was paired with something that made his stomach twist with guilt—the kind he was not supposed to feel.
She scrambled across the bed, trying to put more distance between them. Her rich vanilla floral scent turned rancid. “Lily,” he breathed, pleading with her to be calm. “Please, little flower. It’s all right. I won’t hurt you.”
The doubt—no, the terror—in her expression made him falter. This was worse than hatred. This was fear of him specifically, not just what he represented. Her chest rose and fell in bursts, heart straining at the limits of its exertion.
“I brought you something to eat.” His voice came out rougher than intended, desperation leaking through despite his efforts to remain calm. “You must be hungry?” His head tilted toward the soup and bread, sitting under its silver cover.
Her lips pressed tight. She made a squeaking noise, shaking her head repetitively.
“Fuck,” he breathed. As softly as he could, he called for Zola. It took only a handful of seconds for her to arrive.
“What’s—?” Zola’s words cut off sharply, then she swore.
Laurent stood, keeping his movements unhurried so as not to frighten her further.
“Get out,” Zola snapped.
He swallowed. Only Zola. Only she could say something like that to him.
Without another thought, he fled the room, but he didn’t go far. He pressed himself against the wall just outside Lily’s door. His chest rose and fell unnecessarily. The sight of his vulnerability only furthered his agitation. This wasn’t like him, to react this way.
“There you are, darling,” came Zola’s soft words through the open door. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”
“Zola,” Lily whimpered. “You… You… They… You gave me away.” Her words were choked.
“Not me, darling. Never me. Laurent.”
Laurent’s eyes closed, a breath exploding from his chest. Zola had no fucking problem throwing him under the bus. Then again, she’d always been brutally honest. Her words were true. He deserved every bit of Lily’s terror.
“I don’t want to go back. Please, they… They did things to me. They…” There was a rustling of covers, like Lily was checking herself over. “But it was here. My fingers…”
His stomach dropped like a stone. He could picture her cradling her beloved hands. A low growl built in his throat.
“Was it… Was it all a dream?”
“No, darling, but it’s over. It’s all right. No one will hurt you ever again.”
“Laurent will.” Lily’s words were low, frightened. The thing lurking in his chest quivered.
“I promise you this,” Zola said. “Laurent will never hurt you again, or I will kill him.” Lily’s sharp intake of breath was followed by a shiver as it raced down his spine.
It was a warning.
“I want to go home,” Lily breathed.
“All right, darling. I’ll take you home. But… Are you sure? There are creatures out there, bad, wicked creatures. They will do exactly what the witches did.”
“No. No, no, no.” A sob followed those words. “No.”
“You know it’s true, don’t you? How about you stay here where it’s safe? Where I can protect you?”
“But, Ania.”
“Will you feel better if she’s here? If you can talk to her?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes.”
Laurent scrubbed a hand over his face. She had asked him for exactly that. He’d denied her.
“If you talk to her, will you agree to stay here for now, where it’s safe? At least until you are well?”
“You’ll really… You’ll let me talk to her?” The amount of hope in Lily’s voice made him curse under his breath. “All I wanted, all I wanted was to just…to just let her know that I was okay. I… I had to try to leave, to tell her. To tell her I wasn’t… I didn’t kill Daniel. That I’m not hurt.”
“I’ll make a deal with you, darling.”
“I don’t want a deal.” Her voice turned bitter. “Not like Laurent’s deal.”
“This is different, darling. I’m not threatening your life or holding you prisoner. I’m offering you choices.” There was a silence as Lily considered this. “I will give you whatever you want, so long as you promise to live here, not as a prisoner, but part of our family.”
Lily’s heart began to calm. “I don’t believe you.”
“I speak the truth.”
“You’d let me go to school?”
“You are enrolled in a Ph.D program for the fall, no?” Silence greeted those words.
Lily must have nodded. “I see no reason why that should change. Laurent already took care of the press and cleared your name with the authorities. You can continue your education. Continue the things you enjoy. But you will need to live here, where it’s safe. ”
“But how will I—?”
“I would be happy to enlist myself as your bodyguard.” A snort—Lily’s. “I am serious, darling. You don’t think I could rock a suit? I saw some amazing ones by Pyre Collective this season.”
Their words continued back and forth, Lily hesitant, while Zola promised her whatever she wanted, so long as she remained within their grasp. He wanted to be angry Zola was taking this power from him. But considering how Lily had reacted to him, he wouldn’t have succeeded with her.
He returned to his study, only to cringe at the mess. He set about cleaning. The rugs had to be replaced—
A knock made him pause. “Enter,” he said, turning to Marco.
“It’s finished,” Marco said, striding over to take a seat in one of the newly righted chairs. The space was still a mess, but Marco smartly kept his comments to himself. “The witch’s information checked out. We found the compound—killed all but three.”
Laurent took a seat, sighing. At least it hadn’t been all for nothing. But the price had been steep. Perhaps too steep. His mind went back to Lily, to the expression she wore upon seeing him. It was one he couldn’t bear to see again.
“You brought them here?” he asked, trying to distract himself.
“In the cells below. I haven’t questioned them. Figured you’d want to.”
“I do.”
“And Miss Shaw?” Marco’s voice softened.
“She’s awake.” Marco leaned forward slightly. “You’ll have to inquire about her condition with Zola. I’m afraid she cannot stand the sight of me.”
The admission tasted like ash in his mouth. In all his centuries, he’d never cared what a human—amplifier or not—thought of him. The fact that her fear affected him so deeply was...unsettling.
Marco snorted.
“What else did you find?” he asked. “Any other vampires? Blood?”
“Blood, yes. No vampires. There was equipment for bloodletting. Iron chains. Iron everything. A place modified to restrain us. But…it still doesn’t solve the bigger matter at hand.”
“No, it doesn’t.” He sighed, leaning back.
Marco studied him in silence. Things had been tense between them the past few days. Marco opened his mouth and said, “Forgive me, sire.”
He knew what forgiveness Marco sought.
Part of him wanted to refuse, if only out of spite. It’s what Laurent’s sire would have done—had done, on more than one occasion. He rubbed the back of his neck. “It is forgiven. I know things were out of your control. The fault lies with me. I will not make the same mistake twice.”
Marco jerked his chin, hiding his relief. “Well then, shall we head downstairs?”
“Yes. Let’s.”
They did exactly that.
Each demon had been given a separate cell, chained to the wall. They looked similar to humans, but there were subtle tells that set them apart. Each had an alternate form, similar to shifters, except where shifters turned to animals, demons turned to nightmarish creatures.
The first was male.
“Good evening,” he greeted.
The demon spat on the ground at his feet. There was no point in torturing them for answers. Not when he could get it from their blood. His stomach already roiled at the prospect, but information was worth the revulsion.
He struck, fangs sinking into flesh. The taste hit him immediately—putrid and vile—but he pushed through it.
Drinking from any creature, just like drinking from humans, required skill.
One could simply ignore the blood memory.
Or, one could riffle through it. Having access to the vein, to the source, allowed one to access all memories.
So he sifted through everything, then let the dead creature sag in its chains.
“Disgusting,” he hissed, wiping his mouth.
Marco handed him a handkerchief.
“This one didn’t know much. Only interacted with a couple of vampires after they were restrained and weakened. Useless.”
“That’s unfortunate. We’ll have to try the others.”
They moved to the next cell.
Laurent grimaced, still tasting the foul essence of the first demon. This one, likewise, had only the same experience as the other. He was one of the grunts who simply helped keep an eye on the facility.