Chapter 8
The cobbled streets of old Relaclave felt good beneath her feet.
Solid, dirty, and familiar—she couldn’t help but grin.
The grin was also due to thinking about how a certain chthonic deity was probably pulling out his dark, perfect hair and begging the fates for a new mortal while blue fire burned in his eyes. Bastard fucking deserves it.
If she couldn’t drop out of this death voyage, then perhaps annoying him into submission would do the trick.
She eyed her mark’s sleek silver hair as it shone in the dim, overcast light of Relaclave.
Looking sharp in a man’s oversized wool coat and a burgundy scarf, Beatriz Parker swaggered through a door the color of a blackened berry.
Elysia let out a jaded snort and shook her head.
Of course, her sister was sweeping through that particular doorway in the middle of the godsdamn night when any normal person would be sleeping.
Swanky drug dens and bars had always been her stomping grounds, but Elysia had naively wished to believe that she might be keeping her proclivities within the walls of the House now that she was so in love. That perhaps love had become her drug.
I am…an idiot. That wasn’t how these things worked, no matter how much anyone wanted to believe so, and Elysia knew it damn well.
If anything, she was grateful Beatriz had decreased her use.
Apart from a few occasions, most of the times she’d seen Beatriz the past few months, her sister had been coherent and seemingly herself.
Eyes still on the door, she chewed her lip.
She wasn’t sure if it was worth trying to speak to Beatriz now.
If she wasn’t already high, then she likely would be within the next few minutes.
Elysia braced herself to travel through nothingness back to the death realm, before remembering she needed a godsdamn body of water.
Why can’t anything be easy? She was still bemoaning the fact she’d have to get wet when her ears pricked, and she heard a silent tune no one else could.
She looked up at the gray sky and pursed her lips.
This was just the kind of thing that would get her caught.
It was specifically the sort of thing she shouldn’t do right now with a bounty on her head.
But the music pulled on her strings, and her sister really was just through that door.
A magic-addled smile swept her face as she went trailing after that silver mane, swinging her hips to the tantalizing song in her ear.
Hand on the iron door handle, she stumbled to a stop. There within the transom window above the door was a purple flower with sprays of greenery. Her purple flower. Someone had pried apart one of her pieces and slotted the flowers into the glass of the window. But why?
She opened the door with some caution. The melody that had drawn her to the door dipped sweet and low, soothing her anxieties.
It buzzed and hummed in her ear as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the club.
Her magic beckoned, drawing her eyes to the fading form of her sister slinking down a brocade-papered hallway.
Elysia rolled her neck, fighting with herself internally. Yes, the magic pulled her, tugging incessantly, but her logic and experience cut in, reminding her that she didn’t want to see her sister like this. Eyes void and soul seemingly outside her body.
With a tired sigh, she shoved her discomfort away and kept her feet quiet, staying a few paces behind Beatriz.
Her sister greeted a severe-looking man and folded her tall frame into a leather booth.
Elysia waited until Triz stared at a menu and then ducked into the booth behind the man she was meeting.
Invisible to Beatriz and perfect for listening, she settled into eavesdrop.
Her cursory glance at the man, blonde hair slicked so tight it must have pulled at his scalp, confirmed this was business not pleasure, but then again, no one was ever more Beatriz’s type than when they had drugs in their pocket.
The purr in Beatriz’s voice rolled out and Elysia barely refrained from making a retching noise.
If she had a Crown voice, then her sister had a man-eating voice.
It was shocking that anyone fell for this shit.
“Ramsey, what do you have for me?”
Elysia listened for the sounds of him digging in his pockets, but instead a server hurried over, delivering two glass tumblers with haste. Phosphorescent liquid swirled, glowing a distasteful neon green, immediately reminding Elysia of the potions in the death realm.
Beatriz held the tumbler up, inspecting it as one would a fine gem.
She gave it a loud sniff. “Luminous with notes of green apple. How is that possible?”
Elysia wondered the same thing. Fresh fruit. Candy. All delicacies and flavors that were difficult to come by in Kava thanks to the lack of sun, magic, and insane importing costs.
Ramsey’s grin was evident in his tone. “A perfect addition to our lineup. Don’t you think?”
Parker through and through, her sister held her secrets close, it seemed.
Elysia chanced a peek through the crack between the wall and booth. A lazy but pleased smile curled Beatriz’s lips. “Possibly. What does it do? And whose magic is this?”
“Hallucinogenic trip. Maker doesn’t want to be known.”
Her sister sighed. “No name, no purchase. The Nightshade Market can’t afford anymore fuckups.”
The man gave an understanding nod but shrugged all the same. “You know how it’s been. That rebel group getting busted has everyone scared shitless and pulling their stock.”
Beatriz pinned him with her hard gray eyes. “You’re willing to vouch for the supplier?”
“Absolutely.”
She smiled. “Your head if you’re wrong. But I’ll take it. We’ll be in contact.”
Ramsey made to pull on his coat, but Beatriz leaned across the table.
“Any word?”
Pity lowered his voice. “No, ma’am. We’ve got everyone we can spare keeping their eyes and ears out all over the kingdom.
There was a tip a couple hours away in Valka, so maybe that’s something.
There are rumors too… About people crossing the borders and getting their magic back. Probably bullshit, but you never know.”
Beatriz’s jaw tightened, worry and stress sharpening her features. She leaned back, sliding down to the seat. “Right. Thanks, Ramsey.”
A quick handshake and both parties departed. The man headed to the front door and Beatriz cut over to a back exit. Elysia trailed behind her, no longer bothering to hide her steps.
Her sister leaned against the soot-covered plaster wall outside with her arms crossed, singing to the shadows. “Come out, come out, whoever you are.”
Elysia shook her head and bit back a grin. Her sister was the dumbest person alive. Pulling out her dagger, she twirled it as she stepped into the warm glow of the streetlamps. With a flick of her wrist, the dagger flew, slicing through the edge of her sister’s long wool coat.
Beatriz yelped and dove in the opposite direction, tumbling along the nasty cobblestones.
Elysia cocked her head innocently. “Beatriz! What are you doing on the ground?”
Scowling, Beatriz appeared murderous. “This was expensive!”
Elysia backtracked. “Oh, I’m sorry, is it Madam Nightshade now? Or is that just your drug market? I’m a little confused on the details.”
“You’re a fucking little shit, Elysia. Almost dying then disappearing.” Beatriz kicked a cloud of rocky soot in Elysia’s general direction. “I should kick your ass.”
Elysia held out a hand to her sister. “Missed you too, and I’d love to see you try.”
As if on cue, Crusher waltzed into the alley. All five pounds and some fur of her.
Elysia closed her eyes. “Fuck me, today is the worst. I thought I got rid of you.”
Crusher curled up by her feet, eyes moving between the sisters with interest.
She held up a palm before Triz could squawk her mouth. “Don’t. Just don’t.”
“It was a raccoon before, right? Was I high that day? I swear it was a fucking raccoon.” The skin between Beatriz’s brows creased as she evaluated her memories.
Elysia frowned. “Beatriz, you met the damn raccoon. Its name was Lina, remember? This is a dog. Have you completely melted your brain?”
Triz stared at the dog, still unconvinced. Brushing off her hands, she gestured at the street. “Come on, let’s get you out of sight before we’re both beheaded in front of dear old Mother. It’d make Father far too happy to get rid of us both at once.”
Elysia grimaced and rubbed her neck.
“Too soon?”
“Way too soon.”
“You’re very precious about near-death experiences for someone who makes such stupid decisions all the time.”
Elysia looked at Beatriz incredulously. “As if you’re any better.”
“What are you even wearing right now?” Beatriz plucked at the heavy black robe draped around Elysia and tapped at the bones in her hair. “Are you naked under there?”
“I am,” Elysia admitted, her mouth twitching. She really did look ridiculous.
They both smiled a little.
“I saw you try to get to the stage.”
Beatriz pulled up the collar of her coat, hunching her shoulders. “Don’t be gross.”
“Gods forbid I try to thank you for giving a shit that I was about to die.”
Beatriz pulled a hat out of her coat pocket and slammed it over Elysia’s head, pulling it down so far she could barely see. “Shut up, Elysia. We’ve got business.”
And with that, she stuck her arm through Elysia’s elbow and glared at anyone who came within five feet as she marched them through the late-night fog-ridden streets. Soon enough, they were clomping onto Spirit Street, both flinching at the smell.
“At least no one will care if they do see me over here.”
Beatriz grunted in agreement, but still slapped at Elysia’s hat, forcing her face down. “No one likes a narc, but keep your head down, will you? Stop being so stupid all the time.”