The Forsaken

by Laura Thalassa

  “Gabrielle Fiori, last of the sirens, queen of vampires, empress of hell, your soulmate is fine. Madder than a hatter, but fine.”

  “Where is he?”

  The sorceress glanced skyward. “Stalking between my pews like a raging bull. If that man breaks anything, he’ll be paying for it with his hide—and I do mean that literally.”

  I bristled at that comment. She’d have to go through me to do so.

  “The fairy that led you here,” Hestia said, “she is one of a select few who know my location—and her knowledge of this place will be a temporary thing.” I swore I heard her grumble under her breath about deals made with fairies. “No seer will locate you before we meet again.

  “Stay another day here, and I will get you your seer’s shroud—for a price.”

  I swayed in my seat, and the room seemed to spin. The smoke was addling my mind.

  “Price?” I rubbed my temples. “If it’s a soul you want, you’re going to need to get in line.”

  She laughed at that. “Not your soul. Others can fight for that. I want something else.”

  I dropped my hands. “What is it you want?”

  She pursed her lips, the wrinkles around her mouth deepening. “Part of the cost is not knowing what it is I will ask for.”

  I’d be an idiot to agree to these terms, especially considering the bounty on my head. Intuition told me that she wouldn’t hand me over to those that would harm me, but there were other things she could ask for that would come at too steep a cost.

  My mind drifted to Andre, who’d sacrificed so much to get us here. He seemed to think we needed this—so badly, in fact, that he’d traded his clubs to Ophelia for the opportunity.

  I extended my hand. “Agreed.”

  She sucked in more of the pink plumes and glanced at my hand. Instead of shaking it, she blew out her breath, and thick, indigo-colored smoke cascaded over it.

  “Good,” she said. “Then the first part of your payment begins tonight.”

  The first part? “You never said there would be more than one—”

  “You agreed to my terms.” She spoke over me, her voice severe. The force of her words pushed me back into my seat. “You will fulfill your end of the bargain.”

  I lifted my hands in supplication. Man, her bossiness could give Andre a run for his money.

  “You will not leave here the way you came, and you will not see your mate until tomorrow evening.”

  Unease pooled in my stomach. What had I agreed to? “How do you plan on keeping us apart?” Even if I didn’t seek him out, Andre would surely hunt me down, using our connection to guide him.

  “I will deal with the vampire. You should be more concerned with your own fate.”

  She chose those words because, somehow, she knew they’d sober me right up.

  “There is a bridge down the street from here,” she continued. “On the other side is a dirt trail. Take it and it will lead you to a copse of trees—you can’t miss it, they make a perfect ring—and within that copse is a rose bush that only blooms in the dead of winter. Fetch a rose for me and come back here straightaway.”

  “You want me to retrieve a rose for you?” I asked, disbelieving.

  Her hooded eyes pierced me. “Yes, insolent girl, I want you to get me a rose.”

  My voice dropped low. “Why would you have me do this?”

  “Like many other things in my collection, this rose is a rarity, and I want it plucked by a special hand.”

  My eyes moved from her to a wall of jars containing various ingredients—fairy dust, unicorn hair, dragon fire—which continually scorched the inside of its container—mermaid scales. Rare indeed.

  She clapped her hands, and a door manifested itself on the other side of the room. “Now, it’s high time you’re off.”

  When she saw my face, she patted my hand. “I am no seer, but I know you will live to see another eve.”

  Oh, that was reassuring.

  I stood. “Where am I supposed to go once I deliver the rose to you?” Because, unless this rose bush was a hundred miles away, I’d finish this task quickly.

  Her eyes, which had dulled, now sharpened. “One step at a time, consort. But,” she leaned forward, placing her wrinkled hand on my thigh, “between you and me, sleeping arrangements are the least of your worries.”

  I am the village idiot, I thought as I trudged down the street. I had no real idea where I was going or what I’d gotten myself into. And all for some seer’s shroud, which I might never get my hands on because I’d be dead.

  I glanced behind me at the now distant stone chapel, which rested at the edge of the small town, and I willed Andre to walk outside. To see me, to stop me, to prevent me from fulfilling my end of the bargain.

  He never exited the church.

  I sighed, taking a deep breath. Hestia would keep him away from me until I retrieved the stupid rose. And I had to retrieve it and fulfill my end of the bargain if I wanted to get that seer’s shroud.

  Lamest quest ever.

  The cold air stung my throat and lungs, but I embraced the sensation as it slowly drove away my drug-induced haze. The sorceress sure knew how to hotbox a room.

  I swiveled to face the road ahead of me. The town I walked through was impressively small—just a single main road of shops, and then two small neighborhoods on either side. This late at night—or rather, this early in the morning, no one was out.

  My ears searched for the sound of heartbeats, and I heard many, but all were slow and steady—the sound of a town fast asleep. Besides them, I didn’t hear anything.

  Passing through the village, I finally caught a glimpse of the huge stone bridge Hestia had talked about. It had two lanes and ran about the length of a football field. Several lamps lined either side of it, and they were the last bits of illumination before the darkness beyond.

  My muscles tensed, and I used my senses to search for any hidden attackers. I didn’t trust Hestia’s reassurances—not completely. That one was tricky with her words.

  I listened closely, but no heartbeats pounded and no breaths were drawn. I scented the air, but smelled nothing out of the ordinary. If someone waited for me, they hid themselves exceptionally well. Still, I grabbed one of the knives strapped to my thigh and held it loosely at my side.

  I stopped at the edge of the bridge. I could see straight down the lamp-lined pathway. At this hour it was utterly abandoned—like everything else in this town. The soft lamplight glowed against the stone and cement then gave way to darkness. It was in that darkness where I’d find the dirt path and the ring of trees.

  The wind tore through my hair, caressing the nape of my neck. The sooner I did this, the sooner I could get back to Andre and leave this place.

  I stepped onto the bridge, turning the knife handle over and over in my hand. The two lamps farthest from me flickered. My breath caught, and I immediately opened my senses up. But just like before, I heard no one, saw no one, smelled no one.

  Because no one is here, Einstein. I’d clearly inhaled too much holy smoke.

  I strode forward, emboldened by my thoughts. The wind picked up again, pushing past me, and I quickened my pace. I was contemplating using my vampiric speed to get this over with when the two lampposts that bordered the far side of the bridge flickered once more, then died out.

  I paused. If my heart beat normally, it would’ve skipped at the sight. It did, however, speed up slightly.

  I resumed walking, my boots clicking against the cement. Another pair of streetlamps, those that were second farthest from me, made a popping noise as their bulbs exploded.

  This time when I halted, I took a staggering step back. My breath hiked. Another pair of lights burned out. The darkness was creeping closer, working its way towards me.

  The hair on my forearms rose. Something lurked in those shadows, something I couldn’t sense but I knew intuitively.

  I backed up as another two streetlamps burst. Glass shattered outward, and I jumped at the
sight. In the darkness I heard laughter. I knew that laughter, knew the evil being that lurked within it.

  Now pairs of lights were extinguishing faster and faster, speeding up like they’d scented me.

  My grip on the knife tightened. The time to flee had passed. Maybe it was never there to begin with. I caught the smell of blood and brimstone just as the final two lampposts on either side of me burned out.

  And then the darkness swallowed me up.

  Chapter 12

  I blinked my eyes open as a cold breeze bit into the skin of my cheeks. Above me starlight twinkled. My brows pinched together at the sight.

  I sat up, my hands crunching into fallen leaves. As I did so, an object rolled off my torso. I caught it by its long, green stalk and lifted it.

  A rose, I realized.

  I rolled it between my fingers, noticing that its stem was singed where phantom fingertips had touched it. I brought it to my nose, breathing in the smell of brimstone and blood.

  The devil.

  Last night’s events rushed in. He’d taken me. All that is holy, he’d taken me.

  A small note flapped from the neck of the rose, the words penned in blood.

  Counting the days.

  I set the flower aside with a shaky hand and glanced around me. I was lying in what appeared to have been a forest. Have been being the key words. The trees that should’ve surrounded me were flattened, stretching away from me like rays of a child-drawn sun, and I sat at its point of origin. It looked for all the world like a bomb had gone off.

  Or like the devil had paid a visit.

  I couldn’t catch my breath. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. The devil—Pluto—had done this months ago when I stayed with Andre at Bishopcourt. I’d assumed it was a one-time thing, something terrifying and unexplainable.

  But now it had happened again.

  I stood, dusting leaves off of my leather outfit. At least that had remained the same. If I’d woken up dressed in anything else, I’d have to deal with the possibility that the devil had caught a glimpse of nip. And I really didn’t want him to catch a glimpse of nip.

  I shivered. I can’t believe my thoughts just went there. I’d been hanging around Oliver for too long.

  I gazed up at the night sky again, wondering how much time had passed. A few minutes? An hour?

  Sweat beaded my brow, and it wasn’t just from the fear that thrummed through me. My body was weak, my muscles tired. I felt … sick. And I couldn’t remember the last time I was sick. If ever.

  When I reached to dust off my back, my hand came away with ash. I started at the sight of it. Bringing my hand to my face, I scented it. Not simply ash. Ash, brimstone, and a hint of … rose.

  My eyes took in my surroundings anew. The uprooted trees formed a nearly perfect circle around me. I brought my clean hand to my mouth. This was the copse of trees the Hestia spoke of. Beneath me was a pile of ash, all that remained of the bush that once grew here. I bent down and picked up the singed rose that rested next to it.

  This rose is a rarity, and I want it plucked by a special hand. Special hand indeed. The devil had harvested it, not me.

  The air grew hazy, as though from a heat wave. I caught the scent of light cologne and magic. That was all the warning I got.

  “Oh, my effing gawd, Buffy called and she wants her outfit back.”

  I jumped at the voice behind me. Whirling around, I caught sight of ice blond hair and a cocked hip.

  “Oliver?” The only thing more surprising than my current situation was that he’d pop in to join me.

  “In the exquisite flesh.” He held up his arms.

  I didn’t question how he was here, or why he’d dropped in now. I couldn’t even answer those questions myself. So I threw myself into his arms and promptly started blubbering.

  “Whoa, is my baddie BBF crying?” Oliver’s arms dropped around me. He pulled me close and stroked my back. “I promise we can get you new clothes and burn these. No one but us three will have to know.”

  I sniffled, and drew back a little. “Three?”

  “Hey, roomie,” Leanne said from over Oliver’s shoulder. I hadn’t even seen her, so intent was I on tackle-hugging my fairy friend.

  I let go of Oliver and dragged Leanne into her own bear hug. She held me close. Something about the way she squeezed me made me think she knew better than anyone else what exactly I was going through.

  I stepped away, wiping away bloody tears. “You don’t know how good it is to see you two.” I took a couple deep breaths, looked between the two of them, then to our surroundings. “Wait,” I said as my tears dried up, my gaze traveling back to them, “what are you two doing here?”

  “Rescuing your skanky ass,” Oliver said.

  Rescuing me. I could smell the truth to Oliver’s words too. They hadn’t turned their backs on me, though I didn’t know why. I was dangerous to associate with.

  “Word on the street is that you’re the anti-Christ,” he said.

  I winced at the name. “That’s what they say.”

  “It’s a load of ogre crap,” Leanne said.

  I couldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m not sure that it is,” I said, rolling the stem of the rose between my fingers.

  I drew in a deep breath. “How did you find me?” I asked her. Hestia had said that no seer would be able to locate me.

  “She didn’t find you, Buffy,” Oliver said, pursing his lips. “I did.”

  My eyebrows lifted.

  “Apparently the ley lines have been blowing up with demonic activity,” Leanne supplied, “all circling this location.”

  “Pssh.” Oliver buffed his nails on his button-down. “She makes it sound like it was a simple matter of plotting lines down on a chart. Do you know how many favors I cashed in on your behalf, Sabertooth? So. Many. Not to mention all of the demons lurking on the ley lines that I had to crotch kick.” He glanced down at his shoes and pouted. “Their dongs melted my new Jimmy Choos. Boo.”

  Movement flickered on my peripherals, but when I turned to look, nothing was there. Still, it was enough to spook me.

  “Neither of you should be here,” I said, my panic rising. If Oliver had to fight off demons just to traverse a ley line, what would happen to him and Leanne once Underworld beings realized they were my friends?

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You need us,” Leanne said. “Oliver has the connections—and the means of travel—and I have the foresight.”

  God, they weren’t going to back down, and I didn’t know whether the dominating emotion was terror or soul-deep gratitude. “But you could both get hurt.”

  “Do I look frightened?” Oliver asked. “I’m James-fucking-Bond with wings. Oh—” Oliver snapped his fingers, his eyes lighting up, “before I forget, I had something made for you.”

  Even in dire circumstances, some things never changed, like Oliver’s impressively short attention span.

  He dug through the bag he carried until he pulled out a folded fitted shirt. Shaking it out, he held it up and presented it to me. “Do you like it?”

  The shirt read, I Kissed Satan and All I Got Was This Shitty Shirt.

  I choked a little. “Oh my God.”

  “I figured we needed evidence that you got somewhere with some guy. Lord knows your sex life is slower than the journey to Mordor.”

  He folded the shirt back up. “Don’t worry, Sabertooth, I’ll hold this for you,” he eyed my leather outfit, “seeing as how you have no place to store it.”

  “How … thoughtful of you.”

  “I thought so.”

  My breath caught, and a sharp pain wedged itself in the center of my chest. Happiness that my friends were here with me. Fear for them and worry that they’d located me so easily.

  Speaking of locating people …

  “I need to find Andre.” He’d been at the back of my mind since I’d woken, and now I couldn’t ignore my thoughts concerning him. As soon as he realized I was gone, he’d begin moving heaven and e
arth to find me, and that usually meant human casualties. I didn’t want anymore blood on my hands.

  Oliver cocked his head. “You don’t know where he is … ?” As if seeing it all for the first time, Oliver surveyed me, then my surroundings. His head drew back, affronted. “Wait, fuck that question: what are you doing here?”

  I rolled the stem of the flower in my hand, causing his eyes to dart to it and his head to tilt in the other direction.

  “No clue,” I said.

  Olive grabbed the note tied to the rose and turned it over. “‘Counting the days’?” He pursed his lips. “Is it … written in blood? Ew.” He dropped the note.

  His eyes met mine as did Leanne’s, and my mouth began to move, words tumbling out before I could think twice about them. “The devil kidnapped me—just like he did at the beginning of the school year.”

  “Kidnapped you?” Leanne repeated, her eyes going wide.

  I nodded, a frown tugging down the corners of my lips.

  Oliver made a sound at the back of his throat. “Ooooh, ten euro says your big, scary hunk of burning love has ripped out at least one throat trying to find you.”

  “Oliver, that’s inappropriate and savage.” Leanne turned to me. “Do you know where Andre might be? Oliver can take us to him.”

  “Pfft, there you go, just offering out my services.”

  She rolled her eyes. “As if you had anything different in mind.”

  I cut in. “A sorceress lives a little less than a mile away.” I nodded in the direction. “That’s where I last left him.”

  “Awesome,” Leanne said. “Let’s get going.” She made a grab for Oliver’s hand, but he pulled it out of reach.

  “Whoa,” he said, “eff-no to the nature hike—my shoes are ruined enough as is.” He wiped something dark off of his shoe and onto the leaves. I really hoped it was just melted rubber. Turning to me he asked, “This is the sorceress we’re talking about, right?”

  I shrugged. “She seemed pretty self-important.”