Chapter Forty-Eight
CHAPTER
FORTY-EIGHT
The door to Severin’s home whispered shut as Yuri slipped inside.
There was no saying how long he had until Severin and Aurelie returned, and after what he’d just done, he needed to make the most of it. He moved quickly, gaze sweeping across the veiled chaos that was Severin’s domain.
Dozens of books sat stacked in neat columns, others toppled onto the floor with their pages scattered open.
There was parchment arranged in neat piles but crinkled at the edges, as though they’d been crushed beneath careless elbows.
On the desk, a spilled inkwell bled across a handful of maps.
From what Yuri could make out, most were of Rhovar and its surrounding territories, riddled with notations in Severin’s scrawl.
Some pages had locations circled, while others bore scribbled notes in the margins, nearly illegible.
One page deep in the stack caught his eye.
Frienen.
The name was circled several times in thick black strokes, with arrows pointing inward from the corners.
He tried and failed to find meaning as he skimmed the bookshelves where tomes had been pulled out and shoved back in at odd angles, some well-loved while others appeared pristine and untouched.
He pulled one from its place at random, flipping through pages filled with careful annotations in the margins—calculations, translations of old scripture, musings about the nature of divinity.
Severin’s loose, messy writing was beginning to give him a headache.
Vex breathed deeply on his shoulder, still asleep, as he tore through contracts and shipment ledgers, looking over orders for wine that spanned temples and taverns across the region, with records of payments adjusted hastily in the margins.
Yuri sifted through it all with growing frustration.
There was nothing out of the ordinary for a merchant.
Look harder. Find what’s missing.
He made another circuit through the home, tracing the outlines of frames and tapestries.
Testing floorboards for hollow areas and knocking against walls.
The staircase was narrow and crooked, and while he’d walked it several times without anything standing out, Yuri crouched beside it and let his hand sweep beneath the first stair.
Nothing.
He moved to the second, then the third. On the fourth, he felt a notch.
He bent closer to inspect it, but it was a tiny thing, barely visible. Yuri pressed into it, and something behind him clicked.
At the base of the stairs, a thin line had appeared in the wall. A small, inconspicuous opening.
Got you, you bastard.
Hurrying back down the steps, Yuri dug his fingers into the edge of the opening and pulled, feeling resistance before the panel finally groaned open wide enough for him to ease inside.
The stone was cold beneath his palms, and he flinched as the entrance clicked shut behind him, swallowing what little light remained.
You’re a Soldier, he reminded himself as nerves thickened his throat. There’s nothing in here that you can’t face.
He surrounded himself with Glory, its light flaring ahead as he continued walking.
The passage sloped downward much farther than he could have ever anticipated, and the more he walked, the more the world above pressed down on him—the muffled hum of voices, the scraping of chairs, the heavy stomping of boots.
And music.
It was faint at first, but with every step it grew louder, until there could be no doubts as to where he was.
Wooden beams stretched overhead. Barrels lined the walls in tight rows, the scent of fermenting grapes souring the air.
The passage had led all the way to the cellar below the tavern. And to his horror, Yuri found that he wasn’t alone.
Gareth sat slumped on the floor, his wrists bound behind him and tied to a pair of heavy wine barrels. He was gagged with layers of coarse cloth, but his eyes bulged the moment he saw Yuri. He jerked forward, shouting something between the fabric.
“What do you think he’s trying to say?”
The tinny voice had Yuri jolting in surprise. He turned swiftly.
Vex had left his shoulder and now lay sprawled along one of the ceiling beams, chin cupped in her palm as she peered down at him, looking surprisingly sober.
“When did you wake up?” he asked, startled despite himself. It wasn’t often someone managed to sneak up on him.
The vesper shrugged, then rolled onto her back and let her head hang over the beam, staring at him upside down with eyes that gleamed faintly in the gloom. “Where’s Aurelie?”
“Out for a walk with that demon.”
The vesper didn’t seem at all pacified by this information. She glanced behind her, as if seeking the exit.
Yuri didn’t have time to worry about her. He wasn’t sure what the vesper was up to, but if Vex did flee, it’d take her some time before she found the others.
Gareth was tied in the far back corner of the cellar, hidden in a quiet pocket surrounded by barrels and towering shelves, as if the room itself were conspiring to keep them tucked out of sight.
Up close, there was nothing monstrous about him.
No horns. No claws. No steam billowing from his breath.
He was but a man, plain-faced and mortal.
His hands were calloused, his nails dulled with dirt.
Even his eyes, once wild, were now a soft, mossy green.
If Yuri hadn’t seen the transformation himself, he wouldn’t have believed this man was ever a hybrid. There was no trace left of the beast.
“I have some questions for you,” Yuri told him, crouching down. “I’m going to remove your gag, but you’ll need to keep quiet.”
He reached down, carefully unwrapping the bindings one loop at a time. The fabric was knotted tightly, and the man didn’t relax until the last scrap fell to the dirt.
But Gareth didn’t thank Yuri. He barely even breathed, and the angel realized far too late that it was not fear in the mortal’s eyes.
It was hate.
“Angel!” Gareth cried. “The angel is he—”
Yuri clapped a hand over the mortal’s mouth. Gareth thrashed under him like a feral beast, kicking at Yuri’s shins and trying to bite him.
“Damn you,” Yuri hissed, shoving the cloth back into the man’s mouth with more force than necessary. He secured it, then moved behind Gareth to tighten the ropes around his wrists like a hunter snaring game. Gareth kicked out, twisting hard, but it was no use. He wasn’t going anywhere.
A soft hum floated down from above.
“I’ve never seen a human bite before,” the vesper remarked, delighted.
The man panted through his nose, his eyes enraged. Yuri knelt again and took his chin between two fingers, turning his face toward the faint light radiating from the vesper to study him.
“It seems they managed to change your body, but perhaps your mind is still that of a demon’s.”
Was that why Severin had hidden him?
He wondered who Gareth had been before his change—if that fury had always lived inside him, or if it was some lingering stain from his time as a beast.
Was this a flaw in the cure? Or had it simply revealed what had been there all along?
He exhaled through his nose, glaring at the man still snarling behind his gag.
“Those demons aren’t your allies,” he said coolly. “The last one they gave that cure to turned into dust. You could have fallen the same way, and they wouldn’t have batted an eye.”
Yuri softened his voice. “But I can help you. So I ask again—if I remove the gag, will you scream, or will you cooperate?”
Behind him, Vex had grown bored. The vesper flitted from barrel to barrel, poking her sharp little fingers into cracks, her wings humming low as she inspected their contents.
She started biting at one, razor-sharp teeth gnashing at the wood as if she intended to chew her way to the liquor inside.
Given enough time, she’d likely manage it.
Gareth was watching Vex with growing fascination. His eyes followed her every wingbeat, his rage momentarily forgotten. He blinked once as she huffed at a sealed lid.
Then his gaze snapped back to Yuri, and he gave a single, stiff nod.
Yuri didn’t trust it. Still, he pulled the cloth free, ready to strike if the man tried anything.
But Gareth kept quiet as the angel stepped back, arms folded across his chest.
“How long were you a demon, Gareth?”
The man’s jaw tensed before he answered. “Nearly two weeks.”
Two weeks, and already the man hated him enough to scream out to a tavern full of demons. Would Varen be the same?
“I need a drink,” Gareth growled suddenly, and the request was so ridiculous that Yuri laughed.
“Answer my questions and then we’ll see how generous I’m feeling.”
“You want me to talk, don’t you? My throat feels like it’s been scraped raw.”
Yuri tapped a finger against his arm, tempering his patience.
He doubted this man was foolish enough to try anything while bound, so he stepped over to a row of wineskins, grabbing whatever felt heavy enough to serve its purpose.
He uncorked it, then sniffed. The scent was deep and rich, with just a touch of spice. Nothing unusual.
Still, Yuri tested it. He took a small sip, barely enough to coat his tongue.
The taste was exquisite. Warm, sharp, smooth as satin. He swallowed, then waited.
When nothing happened, he brought the wineskin to Gareth’s mouth.
The man drank greedily, gulping down the wine with such fervor that it ran down his chin in rivulets. Yuri jerked away before he drained the whole thing dry.
“Satisfied?” he asked, temples throbbing in annoyance.
Gareth’s smile gleamed red. He sat back, head falling contentedly against a barrel.
“Tell me what brought you here,” Yuri tried again. “Were you captured?”
The man turned his head and gave no answer.
Yuri sighed. This is getting you nowhere.
“I gave you your drink,” he said. “Now give me your answers before I leave you here to—” His wings began to bristle. The air became heavier. Charged.
The mortal’s body spasmed once as his fingers curled against the ropes. And in that brief moment, Yuri saw the man’s nails lengthen, sharpening to points.
Color was bleeding onto his skin, turning it a vibrant yellow.
Yuri took a step back just in time for Gareth to let out a low, terrible groan. His canines began to lengthen, his entire body writhing as he clawed at himself.
He was reverting.
Yuri drew Glory around him only to discover that he was having difficulty summoning it. The world had grown hazy, distorting. Suddenly the wine barrels doubled in his vision, and his knees knocked against them as he stumbled backward, vision smearing into obscure shapes.
By the Light, what’s happening?
“Vex,” Yuri rasped. “Vexara!” He turned sharply, seeing stars as he searched for the vesper.
Two of her hovered before him, wings buzzing softly.
“Angel?” Her voice was a chime of panic. “What’s wrong?”
“Out.” His voice was getting heavier, his speech becoming more slurred. “Get out of here! Warn Aurelie!”
The vesper fluttered back, hesitating a moment before whipping back the way she’d come. Vex squealed, however, when darkness itself lunged for her, wrapping the vesper in its coil.
Yuri followed its trail to find Lute perched atop the barrels, watching him as a cat might watch a hunted bird dying between its paws. Her legs crossed at the ankle, smile wide and gleaming.
“Hello, Yuri,” she purred. “Did you enjoy the wine?”
His balance wavered. He forced himself upright, limbs thick as mud.
“Get out of here,” he tried to tell Aurelie. “Leave Veritas. You have to leave now.”
He couldn’t feel the bond between them to even know whether the warning went through. His senses were too dulled, his body growing weaker by the second.
Behind him, Gareth let out a broken breath, deep and shuddering, as his body continued to twist on itself, the bones breaking and reshaping.
“What is this?” Yuri snarled. “What did you do to him?”
Lute’s laughter rippled through the cellar. “You’re the one who gave him the wine.” She stood, as graceful as smoke, her boots soundless on the barrels. “We’ve never tested this on an angel before. How are you feeling?”
His hands curled into fists, though the motion felt distant and disconnected. His vision swam again, every limb turning leaden.
He pressed a hand to the wall, reaching desperately for his Glory.
It slipped from him like water.
Get out, his mind screamed at him. You have to keep moving. Get to Aurelie.
Yuri shoved off the wall, trying to lunge past the demon, but his legs gave out beneath him.
He hit the stone hard, palms catching against the floor.
The shadows in his vision dragged deeper, and Yuri blinked, trying to shake them loose.
But the world kept sliding sideways, and the floor was slick beneath his knees.
Lute stepped behind him.
“It’s time for you to sleep, angel.” Her fingers dragged lazily up his spine. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”
Vex called for him as he tried to pull away. Tried to wrap himself in his Glory and burn this demon where she stood. But the harder he reached for it, the further it drifted.
His light had gone dim, and the last thing he saw was a thrashing vesper and Lute’s devilish smile as his world went black.