41. Entropy
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
ENTROPY
Saya Claymore
Zack is the type of nightwalker I’d have no trouble believing lives in the underground tunnel system. More rat than anything else, he came to Serun’s room a few hours later, halting my training, which was going as pathetically as I expected.
He slouches over, head snapping left to right underneath the ragged, ripped cloak keeping him hidden. The only part of his face that can be seen is his hooked, protruding nose. Dark red eyes keep moving, unable to stay focused on anything, while he hobbles around the room, flinching when I breathe.
Serun folds his arms across his chest and leans against the kitchen counter beside me. “How do you fare, Zack?”
“Good, good,” the nightwalker says as he dances through shadows that move like snakes about the room. “Keepin’ busy. You? What brings you here, master?”
Master?
Serun’s eyes narrow, and he juts out his jaw. Devoured by shadows, he says, “I want to know the easiest way to get to the nightwalker outpost. I’m in no mood for a fight.”
Zack looks at me for a fraction of a second, then down at the floor while he paces back and forth, ensuring he doesn’t step on one of Serun’s moving shadows. “Ah, yes. Okay…Are you intending to only go as far as the outpost, or cross the border?”
“Cross the border.”
Zack bobs his head as if digesting this information.
“Echoes congregate around the outpost hunting flesh, ’cause the silly humans gather there thinking we have food within our borders.
” His bare, dirty feet slap against the cement floor as he spins and jumps to the other side of the room.
He jumps up and walks along the lounge, eyes on the exit.
“Slayers have also been daring. When they hand over blood bags, some try to sneak through only for the Death Spirit to kill them—but he hasn’t been seen this past week. ”
“Maeve is keeping him in the Undercity, but I will inform her he is needed.”
Zack nods a lot. “Yes, it would be wise to cull them.”
“Do you know why they’re trying to breach our borders?” Serun asks.
He shrugs and picks at some lint on the lounge. “Something about vervain…”
“The plant?” Serun asks coolly without missing a beat, but I notice his shadows smooth down, flowing like water from an open faucet. “Do they use it for something?”
“Don’t know. Don’t stick around long enough to listen. They know my face.”
Serun nods. “Was that all, Zack?”
“Yes. Yes, I believe so. Head to Coven. They have boats. Take one down Rive Bay. That’s how most nightwalkers are crossing the border since the echoes.”
“Then I will trust your word.”
Zack looks at me, then at the exit. “I will leave you be, master and master’s wife.”
Wife?
As the nightwalker scurries towards the door, Serun says, “Thank you for your services, Zack.”
The nightwalker pauses for a moment, his nose twitching. With a shy nod, he leaves swiftly, closing the door behind him.
Serun sighs, pushes off from the counter, and runs his fingers through his hair. Shadows peel away from him, breaking into mist when they hit the ground.
“Why are they looking for vervain, Serun? And hold your liar’s tongue. I know there is something you aren’t telling me. Your shadows give you away.”
He smiles crookedly, and says, “Vervain is a warding plant, used to protect an area from slayers. It’s supposed to hide it from them. A barrier that shatters when burned.”
I nod my head slowly. “The vegodians in Cherry Bloom had vervain in every garden. I wondered why it was so important that we planted it everywhere, but it makes sense that we do it to keep them out.”
Serun’s smile drops. “We have it around and inside the Undercity, and if the slayers are hunting for it, it means they know.”
I close the gap between us, my brows knitting together. “How? Who else knows?”
“My family knows because Maeve travelled with your…mum. Unless my siblings told someone else, the only other beings who know are vegodians, and they wouldn’t give that information up willingly.”
Staring at his V-neck collar with the laces hanging loose, I draw my focus up to look Serun in the eyes. “Not unless one of them left Cherry Bloom, and a slayer took them.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “Would they leave?”
Memories of my Blessed come to mind. No matter what, I am bound to him. Shackled by power until I can take him head-on.
“If they knew where to find me, some might,” I say, then shake my head. “But the slayers wouldn’t be searching for vervain within nightwalker borders unless the vegodian lied and told them that’s where we are located.”
Serun touches my hip, drawing me to him. “Come, kamai. There is no use in speculating. Let us rest before the sun rises.”
I study Serun’s face before glancing away. “I doubt I will be able to sleep until we find your family and mine. If something has happened to Cole, I fear what I will become.”
Serun’s hand moves to my cheek, and on instinct, I lean into the comfort. “No matter how dark you go, I will follow.”
I smile. “Are you so desperate to get me to sleep in your coffin?”
He leans in, his eyes crinkling when he smiles. “I’m close to collapsing, Saya. But I don’t want to sleep without you.”
My muscles slacken, and my body leans into him. He has a way with words, and he fucking knows it. Our mouths collide, his silky tongue gliding over my fangs, but when I push for more, he grunts and steps back, hitting the coffin. “Why must you start things when the sun is about to rise?”
The dark circles underneath his eyes are more prominent than usual, and he is struggling to keep his eyes open. Without sunlight, I hadn’t realised time had gotten away from us.
I lean against the coffin and gesture for him to get in first. Holding onto his arm, I guide Serun in, then I follow and straddle the Lord of the Undercity. His hands move to my thighs, squeezing tight, moving higher and taking the fabric with them as I shuffle down until I am resting on his chest.
Serun’s fingers move across my arse and thighs, but it’s not carnal. It is more of a strange comfort thing, as he secures my legs on either side of him. My fingers twirl the laces of his shirt before I sigh and relax my muscles.
“I enjoy your company, Saya,” he murmurs as the lid of the coffin slides shut above us.
My hands tighten on his flesh at the sounds of more clicking noises as the coffin starts to slowly descend, concealing us below the floor.
“And I’d like to kill that not-lover of yours. I do not enjoy competition.”
“Jealous?”
He stays quiet.
“The Nightwalker Lord that rules over Naylen is jealous of a man I also want dead?” I laugh. “How very odd of you.”
“And your Blessed.”
“You can kill him too.”
“Torture works best for me,” he murmurs, the hands now cupping my arse slackening. “I’m immortal. It can last an eternity.”
My heart warms at something so dangerously dark. My hand goes up, resting against his cheek as I say, “Sleep, Serun. Day approaches.”
As soon as the words are out, the hands on my flesh slip away, and there’s no longer any sign he is alive. Here I am, about to sleep on a corpse.
This casts serious aspersions on my character, especially when so many people topside are out there suffering right now.
I am truly selfish by design.