30. Limerence
CHAPTER THIRTY
LIMERENCE
Saya Claymore
Orange light gleams inside the oil lantern as my trembling hand tightens its hold. With nothing but hushed noises twitching my ears and blinded by darkness, it’s my grip on Serun’s hand that grounds me enough to keep moving forward.
A date in the Undercity.
Nightwalkers emerge near us as we leave the tunnel. Different shades of red eyes appear ahead, dilating when my lantern light touches them, then slinking away with low hisses.
I step closer to Serun. Shadows slither across my shoulder like snakes, keeping me close.
He walks beside me; his hand laced with mine and eyes ahead.
A flood of smoky shadows wisp around him—a creature caught in the lantern light.
Everything about him would cause chaos in the streets if he went topside, but here, they simply shrink away.
Fear. Fear and respect.
Nightwalkers worship Serun. Bodies bend, knees buckling as some praise him when they catch my light. I doubt I will ever understand going on my knees to worship someone unless I was sucking their cock—and even that I don’t particularly like. Especially an unwashed one.
Serun coughs. Tearing my focus from a nearby nightwalker’s tearless sobs, I ask, “When did they start following you?” A group of nightwalkers come into view thanks to the glow of a lantern held by the human with them, and they enter a clothing store.
“And when did you create Serun’s Law? I recall it always being there when I was young, which means, if anything, you’re older than what you’re making yourself out to be. ”
“I’m thirty-two,” he says.
My hand tightens on his, and a light flutter hatches inside me when I smile. “As you keep saying, nightwalker.”
“Yes—and I created it almost immediately. I offered them all sanctuary in the Undercity, far from the slayers, and those who broke the rules died.” His laughter turns lethal. “Why would they not follow me?”
“They might usurp you one day.”
“One day,” he replies, but he sounds almost amused, like the idea of being challenged brings him joy.
“And me?” I lift my lantern to read a sign for a shoe store. My feet ache inside these high-heeled shoes. “Would they try to kill me if I wasn’t with you?”
“Unlikely.” His long, clawed hand touches the side of my face and runs up my cheekbone, then tucks my hair behind my ear. “I would slaughter every nightwalker that tried to breathe malice in your direction.”
I slowly blink, staring at the crimson that softens with sincerity in those sharp eyes. But I quickly step away and enter the store, my light merging with another person’s inside, illuminating the shoes.
He can’t just say that on an open street, catching me off guard.
With a stifled breath, my nose wrinkles at the odour of the leather.
Three rows of shoes fill the shop, packed in boxes, lined up neatly on the shelves.
Olivia follows while Serun seems out of sorts.
He steps back and waits by the entrance.
Leaning against the shelves displaying heels with his arms folded across his chest, his piercing eyes never leave me.
As I move down the row and sense someone nearby, I shift position so Serun can still see me. Somehow, he doesn’t feel as suffocating as Jax or my Blessed.
I sweep my fingers against dusty boxes to find something comfortable to wear other than the heels in the cupboard.
“What are you looking for?” Olivia asks.
“Comfort.”
“I forgot about that…” she murmurs.
“Do you not feel pain?”
“Not like you do. I hear sunlight hurts, and so does getting stabbed with wood, but most everything else is just a sense of shock. I can’t really describe it.”
My frown deepens as I scan the shelves, looking for something flat. I tap the heel of my shoe against the floor before reaching up and sliding a box away from the others.
“Eight, not nine,” Serun murmurs, his breath tickling the back of my neck.
Olivia flinches, shrinking further away from the shadows while he reaches out, grabs a box further up and hands it to me.
I blink, trying to digest what is happening, but then he is back by the entrance, watching from afar again.
“How does he know your shoe size better than you?” Olivia murmurs, her focus locked on Serun as if that will help keep him in place.
“I tend not to ask questions I might not want answered,” I say as I open the box to find a pair of flat-heeled boots. “Good enough.”
“You aren’t going to try them on?” Olivia asks when I close the box and leave the lane.
“No need. Serun seems confident, and”—my stomach takes that moment to grumble, loudly—“I’m hungry and want better food.”
“But you just ate?”
“And?”
Olivia raises her hands and laughs nervously. “I mean no offence. Since becoming a nightwalker, I’ve been on a three-day feeding cycle. I forgot that humans eat more than us.”
“What happens if you don’t eat after three days?”
“Our dead blood stirs, and hunger can become craving. Five days and the frenzy kicks in. A week and our skin ages, turning leathery.”
Like the nightwalker in the private room.
We leave the store, and Serun steps into the light without a murmur of sound. He raises his hand in offering, and I take hold. We are magnets. There is an indescribable pull that lures me to the nightwalker.
Humans roam with nightwalkers as we make our way to the grocery store. In the dim flames flickering behind glass walls, grins beam on their faces and claiming tattoos paint across their flushed skin.
They seem happy.
Most of the faces in the feeding ground were blank and hollow when they entered. If only they knew what the Undercity was really like instead of the horror stories Jax filled their heads with.
Murmured conversation in the dark catches my attention nearby, and red eyes watch us. The stench of iron comes from them, the same scent that lingered in the blood bank whenever we donated.
“I heard Lord Serun wanted her because she can produce an heir. Half nightwalker, half human. Her blood must be special. An exotic.”
“Could be,” another voice says from the darkness. I lift my lamp higher, hoping to see them, but the aura struggles to reach past the sidewalk. “And her scent…If she weren’t Lord Serun’s, I’d have taken her as my plaything. I doubt I’d stop biting her.”
I want to hurt them. I want them to swallow light, but if I show my magik down here—light in a place of darkness—would it cause an uproar?
In the corner of my eye, Serun’s eyes narrow, and the shadows cloaking him quiver.
Am I just a babymaker? A womb to carry hybrid children?
“We are here,” Serun declares, and I raise the lantern to the sign above but find I don’t need it. Neon white flickers into a firm silver. The human food store, I see. “I will wait outside. Get whatever you want and tell them I will pay with blood.”
His eyes narrow, and his shadows become more agitated, an echo of a mess I’m not used to seeing. My hand tightens on his, and like a lure, he faces me.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He cocks his head, as if confused by the question.
I close the gap between us, my hand moving to his face, the silky taste of his skin across my fingertips as I slide them up and pinch at his ear to bring his attention to me. “What are you thinking about?”
“Killing them,” he admits in a flat tone.
“Because of what they said?”
His claws curl around the fabric of my shirt, pulling me into the shadows until I am consumed. Bitten by the darkness, Serun’s eyes are the only source of light as he leans closer. Soulless. Detached.
Fury bound.
“Because of the way they’re looking at you.” His voice is low and acidic—a painful bite. “Exotic. They undress you with their eyes.”
Bubbled laughter escapes me, and while he slow-blinks and tips his head, I try to collect myself enough so that no one else can hear. It’s outlandish how human a nightwalker can be sometimes.
I swipe my thumb across his cheek. “Serun, Lord of the Undercity, is jealous?”
He slow-blinks again. Perhaps it is a word long forgotten in his vocabulary.
“Jax would get jealous whenever a new man entered Darkovish, and they were interested in me. He picked fights, and I used to enjoy the thrill of it all.” I sigh sharply. “But Ma—my friends taught me that was toxic. He fought them because he wanted control over me. Eliminate the threat.”
His crimson eyes dart between mine, unable to focus as he listens.
“You can kill them if you want but know this: it won’t get you any closer to us sharing a bed.”
His eyes crinkle. “And what would, exactly?”
“Insufferable,” I mumble, stepping away and into the fluorescent light. “You want me in your coffin, you figure out a way to lure me there, nightwalker.”
“I will think long and hard while you get something to eat. Your stomach is distracting.” Intense red eyes settle on Olivia. “Stay by her side.”
Like magik pulling her to me, Olivia is quickly beside me, her back straight and ears pricked. We enter the store, and the glass doors close behind us.
Will he kill them? I’m not sure.
Will I care? I’m not sure either.
Does that make me more monster than human?
Perhaps I always was.
“Okay! What are you interested in eating?” Olivia asks.
“I’m not sure,” I admit as I look to the shelves stocked with packaged food. “Do you remember your favourite foods?”
Olivia nods. “Yes, I just can’t really remember what they taste like. After drinking blood for nearly a year, it’s all I can imagine now.”
“Then let’s get what you liked.”
I don’t want to share anything about myself with her. I don’t want to bond with someone who might not be around for long. Besides, after ten years in Darkovish eating the same thing, most of what I ate in Cherry Bloom is just a memory.
As we make our way down an aisle, I only see food in cans and packages. Fresh produce would be a dream, but in this world dying without sunlight, I doubt they have the resources.