by Bella Klaus
Dianne’s eyes glazed. “I’ve told these enforcers to gather up all these dangerous crystals but they have no jurisdiction over stones that naturally absorb power.”
He gave her an approving nod and placed his hand on the small of her back.
“Valentine?” I whispered.
His eyes softened, and the tender look he gave me made my heart melt. It spoke of love and sympathy and yearning, but beneath the expression was a touch of fear.
My heart ached, and I longed to ask Valentine what was happening, but the words died in my throat.
“Do you trust me?” He cupped my face with his large hands, filling my chest with a giddy warmth.
“No,” I whispered.
The corners of his lips curved into a sad smile. “I will explain everything when I return.” He stepped back, leaving me yearning for his touch. “But know this, Inamorata. I will protect you until the end of my days.”
Valentine swept his arm out for Healer Dianne and walked her out of the room.
I stood at the door, staring after the pair as they strolled through the long passageway of the Accident and Emergency Department. The part of me that still clung to past hurts urged me to run after Valentine and demand answers right now, but I’d already pieced together most of the story.
It was me who had attacked Beatrice, and something within me that would turn her into a zombie if she died while that fire magic still coursed through her veins.
A shudder ran down my spine. Valentine just mesmerized a healer to protect me, to cover up what I did, and to make sure the enforcers left Beatrice alone. Chasing after them now would undo his efforts and alert Healer Dianne that something was off.
I shook my head and stepped back into the room. Maybe it was time to start trusting Valentine. Regardless of what happened between us three years ago, everything about him suggested he had my best interests at heart. Besides, some things were worth more than getting immediate answers. One of them was keeping the Supernatural Council’s enforcers off all of our backs.
Chapter Thirteen
After checking on Beatrice and finding her breathing with ease, I paced up and down the hospital room, clenching and unclenching my fists. Valentine would probably use the excuse of getting rid of the healer as a means to escape without giving me answers.
How dare he swoop back into my life and withhold the truth?
I raised my wrist, glowering at the source of all my problems. The tattoo seemed to have faded into a bright orange instead of its usual brown, but still looked stark against my pale skin. Each facet of the crystal hearts etched its own pattern, looking like a diagram of the crystals that had encased my wrist.
That bloody bracelet had probably been infused with a curse. Istabelle said it was firestone but what if it also contained something neither of us could detect? Crystals didn’t just melt into a person’s flesh and stain their skin.
I clenched my teeth. Why had I let him walk out of the hospital room without giving me an explanation? Because he was an old-as-sin vampire, and a magicless twenty-four-year-old couldn’t make Valentine Sargon do a damn thing. I could bark and yap at him however much I wished, only for him to smirk at me like I was his evening’s entertainment.
All the bluster and anger escaped my lungs in an outward breath, replaced with a wave of helplessness. I walked to Beatrice’s bedside and lowered myself into the plastic seat. My relationship with Valentine had never been one of equals, no matter how well he had treated me. I’d always been subject to his whims.
Even though the redness of her skin was an enchantment and Healer Dianne had restored her to health, seeing her so helpless made my throat thicken.
I did this. I did this to an innocent human who had been nothing but kind and sweet and generous. Beatrice hadn’t deserved an ounce of what had happened to her but because she got involved with a supernatural, she was now lying in a hospital bed.
Worse, if she died between now and the time my magic wore out, she would rise from the dead.
A sob caught in the back of my throat, and my eyes blurred with tears. What would happen to her soul? My breath came in shallow pants. I would have to work out a way to protect her.
“Beatrice, I’m so sorry.” I slid my hand beneath the metallic blanket and wrapped my fingers around hers. “If I’d have known I’d become a danger to you, I would have kept my distance.”
Guilt clutched at my chest with its sharp talons. The one time I’d allowed myself to get close to a human had resulted in something catastrophic.
Back in the academy, our teachers had told us about human-supernatural relations and the importance of keeping our world secret. While many supernaturals needed humans to reproduce, they had to choose their partners carefully. No casual encounters, no confidences, and certainly no platonic friendships. I’d left Logris to do the complete opposite.
A magicless supernatural like me had no need to leave our world when I’d be compatible with all the other species. We were supposed to be prime breeding partners—vessels of inert magic to be harnessed into producing powerful offspring.
The only reason they hadn’t dragged me back was because I was formally apprenticed to Istabelle—a registered Master of Crystal Magic. And what did I do the moment I settled into the Natural World? Befriend a human woman and nearly get her killed.
I blinked, and two fat tears rolled down my cheeks. What would I do about Beatrice? If I couldn’t remove this accursed bracelet, I might hurt her again and again, until one day, I ended her life.
My thoughts drifted to my last conversation with Istabelle, who had examined my energy body, identified the black tourmaline crystal that needed cleansing, but hadn’t picked up any sign of the firestone bracelet lurking under my skin. What would she see if I stood in front of her now?
More tears rolled down my cheeks, and I choked back a sob. How on earth would I explain this to Beatrice when she woke up?
The door creaked open, and Valentine stepped inside, his features grave.
I bolted off the seat and rushed toward him with my hands curled into fists. “Will you please tell me what the hell is happening?”
Drawing his brows together, he placed a large warm hand on my cheek. “How much do you remember of your last week in Logris?”
“Don’t change the subject,” I snapped. “If I’m some sort of killer, I need to get as far away from people as possible.”
His thumb brushed over my cheekbone. A gesture like that would normally have made my heart flutter, but even my body was in agreement that there was no time for romance after having nearly boiled an innocent girl to death.
“Please answer my question,” he said. “It will help me answer yours.”
“Everything,” I said from between clenched teeth.
“Then why do you act like you’ve changed your mind?”
My stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?”
“We all agreed that you would spend time in the human world until—”
“Wait.” I stepped out of his embrace. “Aunt Arianna and I decided I should leave Logris after you humiliated me in front of every high-society vampire, including your brothers.”
Valentine’s frown deepened, and he shook his head as though I’d somehow misinterpreted the cruel words that had tormented me for years. My insides roiled with fury. I knew when I was being gaslighted, and no amount of confused or concerned stares would make me doubt what had happened on that terrible evening.
“May I see your memories?” he asked.
“Why?” I stepped back and raised my palms. “You want me to relive those horrible words? Once was enough for a lifetime.”
“Mera,” he said with a sigh.
Angry heat rose to the surface of my skin. “Stop changing the subject and tell me what’s going on. My life was going great until you sent me a bracelet and you haunted me like a ghost of Exes Past.”
His lips thinned, and red striations flared across his irises, making them appear crimson. “
Will you behave yourself?”
The condescension in his tone made me flinch. I stepped back, my features twisting into a scowl. How dare he suggest I was some kind of unruly child having a tantrum?
Inhaling deep breaths, I tried to slow my frantic heart and get myself to calm. Valentine wouldn’t avoid giving me answers by reducing me to a defensive screaming and crying mess. I wouldn’t allow it.
I turned my gaze to the room’s white wall, trying to clear my mind of Valentine’s presence and its resulting resentment. If he wanted a civil conversation, I would give it to him, but that didn’t mean agreeing to his every demand. “I don’t consent to you rummaging through my mind.”
“Alright,” he murmured.
“Now, if you’d like to tell me what you know about the firestone bracelet and what happened to Beatrice, it would help me tremendously in not becoming a murderer,” I said from between clenched teeth.
A muscle in his jaw flexed, and the nostrils of his perfect nose flared. He was trying to suppress his frustration. Was it because I hadn’t escalated my tantrum or because I was back to demanding answers? Perhaps if he could answer a direct question, he wouldn’t need to feel so exasperated.
I folded my arms across my chest and turned to look him full in the face. “Please.”
Valentine’s violet eyes roved my features as though trying to solve a puzzle. “This is what we agreed on,” he said in a slow, even tone people used for explaining complicated concepts. “How could you forget?”
I shook my head from side to side, partially out of denial and partially to dislodge the surge of disbelief. “No sane person would willingly play the fool to such a large audience.”
Even saying the words made my insides roil with a mix of hurt and fury. All my life, I’d been the subject of barbs from supernaturals my age who would inherit wealth, status, and become productive members of our society.
Aunt Arianna tried to tell me that the role I would play was just as important as theirs, but it was hard to accept that all I could ever amount to was a blood cow or a breeder. Even harder to have others judge me based on my plain human looks.
Beauty was important in Logris but secondary to magical and political power. An ugly-as-sin demon could stand proud beside the most beautiful of angels and fae if they possessed a unique gift that could impress others with its utility or its horror. Someone born and bred in the gutter could rise to the highest echelons if they worked hard and honed their innate talents. But not people like me.
It’s hard to explain how it is for those without magic without using words like ‘breeding stock’ or conjuring images of farmers inspecting the teeth of a horse. Powerless supernaturals were considered little more than humans. A person’s parentage didn’t matter. Without magic, they could only survive on the charity of their families or the generosity of a wealthy benefactor.
When others taunted me at the academy, Aunt Arianna told me never to let them see me hurt because my pain would be their entertainment. I had been strong and rolled my hurt and anger into a ball to maintain a facade of serenity, which bored even the most persistent of bullies, but standing here alone with Valentine made something inside me crumble.
I’d worked through the pain with Istabelle as she had told me that I’d be incapable of healing others without healing myself. What I couldn’t release, I kept in a kernel deep within my heart. Now, everything I had suppressed threatened to erupt, all because of the way Valentine stood before me and gazed into my soul.
After what felt like forever, Valentine finally spoke. “I think someone has tampered with your mind.”
“Why?” I whispered.
“You know how difficult it is for your kind to leave Logris?” he asked.
I nodded. Aunt Arianna had appealed to the Witch Queen on my behalf, explaining what had happened. The queen had only signed off on my permit to enter the human world because I would be under the formal guidance of an accredited master like Istabelle Bonham-Sackville.
Valentine stepped toward me, filling my nostrils with his masculine scent. My pulse quickened, and I took another step back, not wanting the distraction.
“Why do you think I agreed to being dumped in public?” I asked.
He walked over to Beatrice and placed a hand on her head. Vampires had the power to put people to sleep with a single touch.
After checking over my friend, he walked back to me and asked, “Did you know fire users develop their powers well before the age of twenty-one?”
A tight fist of panic squeezed my heart. He was about to say what I didn’t want to hear from Istabelle—that I’d become some fire-wielder who would be hunted to death. I clamped my lips shut and shook my head, this time forcing myself to listen.
His features hardened with determination. “Each Neutral is assigned an enforcer at birth to monitor their progress until they come of age. At various stages in your life, they will have assessed you for signs of developing fire magic.”
My throat dried. I couldn’t be a fire mage. Up until today, I hadn’t so much as overheated. A little voice in the back of my mind reminded me of the assassin who had seized me with his shadow. It was me who drove him back, not Macavity, who was still thrashing behind my closed door.
I met his somber eyes. “Valentine—”
He placed his fingers on my lips. “Let me finish.”
I nodded.
Valentine launched into a story that spanned back beyond the cradle of civilization. Humans had their origin stories such as the Big Bang, and God saying ‘let there be light,’ but supernaturals had the Cosmic Clash, when the three Noble elements—air, fire, and water—collided to create the earth.
Over time, the elements combined, so that earth plus water made wood, earth plus fire made metal, and air plus fire made ether—an early form of magic. Any Magical Sciences teacher at the academy could demonstrate this in a magical laboratory. I guess this was the equivalent of humans’ scientific theory of elements versus compounds.
The elements formed sentient beings, who roamed the earth in their purest forms, such as phoenixes and ifrits, beings purely composed of fire. They mated among themselves and produced offspring that combined all the elements, and then those beings mated.
Over thousands of generations, they created humans, animals, and supernaturals. Supernaturals were the beings who contained high levels of the element ether.
Nowadays, the closest thing we have to the original supernaturals are the elemental mages, beings who wield a single element, such as water or shadows.
“Are you following me?” Valentine asked.
I nodded. What he explained pretty much covered what I had learned in the academy, but his deep, hypnotic voice made the origin story vivid and less like a myth.
“The most powerful element of all to wield is fire,” he said.
“Why, when it’s just as old as air and water?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Fire is so much more than just an element.”
“I still don’t understand why the Supernatural Council fears it,” I murmured. “They told us about Kresnik at the academy, but lots of supernaturals turn into tyrants. That doesn’t mean people who share his category of magic should be hunted.”
A bitter taste rose to the back of my throat. I was such a hypocrite. While growing up, I’d swallowed those lessons, also believing that fire wielders were a danger to our society. It was only now that I suspected I was such a supernatural that I bothered to question the humanity of not allowing them to live.
“Fire is the only element that sparks life,” Valentine said. “Kresnik didn’t just fight with his own power. Every person he killed with his magic rose from the dead and wielded their innate power against his enemies.”
I placed a hand over my mouth.
Valentine nodded, as though approving that I was taking this seriously. “At first, it was easy to identify his puppets, but Kresnik honed his gift to a level of sophistication that made it impossible to know who he had a
nimated until it was too late.”
I gulped. “Necromancy?”
Valentine shook his head. “A necromancer animates a corpse. Kresnik’s fire could breathe life into the dead, making them indistinguishable from the living.”
“That’s why the Supernatural Council hates fire users?”
“He was just the most recent tyrant in a long line of Light Lords, Lords of Fire, Ladies of Flame. Even though dark lords have risen, none have used their power to infiltrate Logris at such high levels.”
Every ounce of moisture left my throat. These fire wielders seemed to have the power over life and death. “Why do you think I might be one of them?”
“I noticed how your temperature would rise when we were intimate.” His hand cupped my cheek.
My eyes widened. “Did I hurt you?”
He shook his head. “It just rose a little above the level of a shifter or a demon.”
I swallowed back a question about how he’d grown familiar with the base temperatures of other beings. It wasn’t like I was jealous or anything. Valentine had lived centuries and had a life before meeting me.
My tongue darted out to lick my dry lips. “That still doesn’t explain—”
“The scene outside my palace?” he asked.
I nodded.
Pain creased the corners of Valentine’s eyes, and he cupped my cheeks with both hands. “The last thing I would ever do is hurt the purest, most precious being in my life.”
An ache formed in my heart, and I lowered my lashes, unable to withstand the love infused in his words. Even if he hadn’t intended the words he uttered on the palace steps to wound, the rejection had cut deeper than any knife.
“I still don’t understand,” I whispered.
“We planned this.” His voice strained with a plea for me to understand. “You, me, and your aunt.”
I shook my head. “When I returned to Aunt Arianna in tears, she would have reminded me that we’d been acting. She was as upset as me.”
“Did you tell her what I’d said?” he asked.