Andrei stopped pacing, his eyes meeting hers as a slow smile spread across his face. His face softened even further as his gaze dropped to Zura. “Good morning, little one. How did you sleep?”
Zura growled at Andrei, showing him her teeth before tightening her hold on Melas’ hand. She examined the room, her eyes pausing for a moment on each door, each opened window.
Ridhor sat up straighter. “There is plenty of food. Please, sit.” He gestured to the seats next to him.
Orren’s intense stare locked onto her as she moved to the opposite end of the table wanting to put as much space between them and the group who had just been discussing them. She loaded a plate for Zura before sliding into a seat next to her.
Zura grabbed a knife from beside her plate, shoving it under its rim. The small act made Melas smile.
She was ready. They always were.
The busty, pale blonde who had practically been face-first in her plate turned her gaze towards them. Her eyes were white, as though rolled back in her head. As she looked at the two of them, her pale lips thinned into a line.
“Did you sleep well?” Ridhor asked her, repeating Andrei’s question trying to break through the tension thick in the air.
Andrei sunk into a seat beside him, his eyes on his plate.
Her gaze went from the woman, sweeping over Orren, Ridhor and landing on Andrei before she filled her plate. She took a few bites, taking her time before answering. “We slept fine.” She said finally. “I feel rested enough to take on a Berserker—” She let her gaze burn into Andrei. “Or a Vampire.”
His eyes shot up from his plate, meeting hers for a moment. “We were just—”
“Talking about how you don’t trust us. Yes, I heard.” She said flatly. There was no point in feigning ignorance. “I unsettle you, Vampire.” It’d become evident to her the niceties they put on for supper last night were a guise to try and make Melas feel comfortable. Comfortable people lowered their guard. It was easier to get what you wanted from someone when their guard was down.
She wouldn’t make that mistake.
Nor would she let them hide behind those masks under an illusion they were working. She had no patience for pretence.
His brow creased. “Andrei, please.”
Melas shook her head. “Vampire suits me fine. I’ve no intention of building relationships with any of you,” She paused, looking at the woman again. “—or your new friend. I had the bad luck of losing consciousness close enough to be found by your Berserker, and I’m guessing the only reason we were taken in at all is because I had a child with me. I trust you even less than you trust me.” She turned her hardened gaze to Orren. “You’ve been hospitable enough, but we’re not some puzzle for you to solve. We’re patched up, well-rested, and fed. After breakfast, we can be on our way.”
Ridhor’s brow dropped slightly, his grip on his fork tightening to the point Melas swore he was bending it.
Andrei cleared his throat. “You have to understand—”
“I don’t have to understand anything. I could care less about your discomfort, the way I make the Berserker unpredictable, or whatever brooding thing the Incubus is doing. Somehow I managed to offend this one as well because she hasn’t stopped scowling at me since I sat down.” She couldn’t help be a little annoyed. If the woman had something to say, she could say it.
Suddenly finding her voice, the woman hissed through her teeth at her. “I am Ela, the Oracle you burnt last night in your bathroom.”
Nodding slowly, Melas clicked her tongue. Well, that answered that. “That makes sense. I didn’t recognize you without that—” She waved her hands over where Ela sat. “Sheet thing. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t try to burn you and I have no idea how that happened.”
Zura tapped the top of Melas’ thigh to let her know she was finished eating.
She was quick and wasted no time. They both knew based on the conversation they walked in on things could quickly escalate to hostile. Zura filled her belly quickly, preparing for that.
Good. She could last a lot longer than Zura without food. The meal from last night would be enough for her to get by for a while, even if she didn’t eat as much now as she should.
With the pause in conversation and tension in the air, Melas shovelled a few more mouthfuls of food into her mouth. She had to be smart about this. Andrei was already suspicious, Ela was a snarling dog about to pounce. This would be her chance to get a little bit of food in before everything boiled completely over and someone exploded.
Ela was still glaring at her.
“The sheet thing is an Oracle’s barrier protecting them from outside sources. She’s been forced out of The Veil until we can figure out how to restore it and remove your mark.” Orren’s voice was as blasé as always. He seemed unaffected by Andrei’s ranting, Ridhor’s firm grip on his cutlery or the way his cheekbones flexed as though he were grinding his teeth under that bush of a beard. Or the way Ela seemed to seethe next to him. He acted as though this were just another day, and they were discussing the weather.
Keeping his emotions under lock and key.
She was careful to lock her emotions away where they couldn’t impact her decisions. She did that now, allowing her blank stare to meet his own before replying calmly. “My mark?”
Her calm attitude was the lit match that suddenly set the Oracle aflame. Ela pushed her chair back from the table, pulling the long sleeve of her borrowed shirts up her arm so she could thrust her hand towards Melas.
Everything happened so quickly.
Zura jumped up, the knife she hid under the rim of her plate held out in front of her as she moved to stand in front of Melas. She snarled, baring her teeth, her emerald eyes burning amber. Her heart surged with pride as her daughter widened her stance, battle-ready. Zura would never get the chance to use her blade, Melas would be in front of her in a flash, but she let her daughter believe she was in charge for the moment.
All three men jumped to their feet.
Melas was on her feet too, Ridhor’s blade in her hand. She aimed it at the men who suddenly seemed wound too tight, not overly concerned with the woman. Zura stood her ground, snarling at Ela. “Get away from my mom. Get back.” Her voice was hard, assertive.
The room was so quiet they would be able to hear the flap of a butterfly’s wings. All three men froze in place, eyes wide. Ridhor gripped the edge of the table so tightly in his hand Melas could hear the wood groaning where she stood.
“Ela,” Orren said her name lightly but slowly, really drawing out the hard E at the beginning of her name. His eye on Zura as she jabbed her knife towards her. “These two have been through enough for their vigilance to exist even without their memories. We’ve found it’s best not to make any sudden moves towards them. That is, unless you want them stabbing you.”
She backed away slowly, dropping her hand as she moved to stand behind her chair. Her shoulders still rose and fell quickly, her breathing fast as she struggled to get her emotions in place. Closing her white eyes, she tilted her head up to the ceiling.
“Ridhor, did you need some air?” Orren kept his eyes on Zura as he addressed his friend.
Melas kept her gaze cool and calm. Although all men were on their feet, she didn’t feel they were trying to threaten Zura. It was almost like her outburst kicked them into protective mode and they were doing what they could now to ease whatever distress she was feeling to make her lash out at Ela.
It was very confusing.
She turned her gaze to Ridhor, his energy taking up the most space in the room. His eyes were wide, his barrel chest heaving as he looked at Zura. His nostrils flared, the dimple on his cheekbone deep. His body was stiff, his fingers dug deep in the thick wood of the table. He made no move to leave, no move at all.
Andrei smiled. “Let’s all just calm down. Having the child worked up is affecting Ridhor.”
Zura turned to look at him. She held his gaze for a long time before slowly lowering her k
nife and moving to stand behind her mother. His breathing steadied, his face relaxing as he sunk into his chair, picking up his fork. He resumed eating, his nostrils still flared as he tried to combat whatever beast he kept locked away.
The shift in him had Melas blinking in surprise.
“Fuck me,” Andrei let out a breath. “They’re going to be the death of us.” Andrei ran his fingers through his hair.
Whatever a Berserker was capable of, it was enough to put both Orren and Andrei on high alert when he was stressed. She watched as Orren’s shoulder’s dropped as he sat back down in his chair, blanketing himself in that confident air he normally wore. Whatever crisis he was preparing for no longer an issue.
Andrei sat down, but he still wore the ambivalence he had before. His eyes still watching Zura underneath thick lashes.
Dropping the glare she wore from the moment Melas and Zura entered the room, Ela let out a long breath. “I’m sorry, Zura. I didn’t mean to upset you. I wasn’t going to hurt your mother. I only meant to show her the mark she asked about.” Moving around the chair, she sunk into it and rested her head against the back. “I have no reason to be angry with you, Melas. Whatever Magic you affected me with was unintentional. I know that. I’m just—” She shook her head for a moment. “This is my first time having to deal with emotions without my barrier.”
The fabric surrounding her kept her from feeling emotions. Maybe that was why she always looked as though she were trying to escape. Her body contorting and pushing to be free. Melas thought she’d be happy to be free of it. Judging by her still heaving chest, that didn’t seem to be the case.
Regardless of what she wanted, going through emotions for the first time must be difficult. It took a long time for Melas to learn how to lock her emotions away. She knew better than anyone how messy they could be. How vulnerable they made you.
“Perhaps it’s best to talk about such things when Zura is not around. We don’t want her getting upset.” Andrei turned to look at Ridhor. “It troubles Ridhor.”
Another flash of annoyance zipped through her. No one here would dictate what her daughter knew or didn’t know. Nor would they dictate anything she did. She may be under their roof for the time being, but they were not her keepers. She would come and go as she pleased, and right now she was leaning more towards going.
Melas shook her head. “Anything you have to say to me will be said in front of Zura. We don’t keep secrets. Secrets could be the death of her if anything were to happen to me.” Secrets were a toxic thing, binding you without your knowledge, threatening to undo you when they came to the light. “If it troubles your Berserker, he is more than welcome to excuse himself.”
Ridhor said nothing.
Orren looked at Ela, continuing the conversation. “Oddly, so much of who they were is still there, but they don’t remember it. We thought maybe a curse, but Ridhor pointed out few would curse you and take away your memories as it would be a way to ease the suffering.”
Ela nodded. “Agreed. I don’t think it’s a curse.”
“A ward, maybe?” Andrei asked.
Orren shook his head. “No. A ward wouldn’t have marked Ela.”
He frowned. “Are you so sure of that, old friend? I have known Casters who set little traps in their wards. Would this not be like that?”
Orren thought for a moment. “No. The mark on Ela stops her from discussing what she saw when she touched Melas from anyone. If she tried, she would die.”
It had been a while since Andrei was taken over by his emotions. Orren’s admission told him he was due for another emotion fuelled rant. “What?” He spat the word out in disbelief. “Kill an Oracle?”
“Andrei, it’s best you think your thoughts through in your head and not get so emotional over every little thing. The last thing any of us want is your emotions to affect Zura, and overwhelm Ridhor.”
Eyes shot over to Ridhor who still ate his meal. He seemed to be ignoring the conversation, but Melas knew better. He was taking in the information just as they were, sorting through it in his mind, trying to figure everything out. When he did decide to speak, it would be with something important. Unlike Andrei and his rantings.
She had to admit she was a little disappointed in the Vampire.
There were so many stories told about them. They were a fascination among what this group would call humans with disdain in their voices. Every supernatural story seemed to have a Vampire in them or a Werewolf. Witches were also a very common fascination in the stories and films. Melas would say it was overdone, but it was where the money was and money made the world go round… or realm.
They were always handsome. Andrei was that. Inhumanly so. He was also tall and muscular which fell into the romanticizing of Vampires. The strength was likely there, but his emotional state left a lot to be desired. He reminded her more of a wealthy model who became unhinged at any change of plans. It dampened any sexual intrigue that was supposed to be attached to him.
Good thing she’d never been one who had gone through a Vampire groupie phase. No photos of her as a broody emotional goth who longed to be bitten by some dark knight. Or at least, she didn’t think so.
No, she knew it even though the memories were gone. It was such a weird feeling, knowing something even though there was no proof in her mind it was true.
Tenting his fingers in front of him, Orren watched her. Those fierce silver eyes trying to see in her mind and pick apart her thoughts.
She returned his gaze head-on. Letting him know by the hard look in her eyes he wouldn’t get a glimpse no matter how hard he tried. “How do we leave the Dark Realm?” She said suddenly, interrupting Andrei.
All sets of eyes turned to look at her, even Ridhor looked up from his now empty plate, the muscles rippling over his cheeks.
She wondered how they kept him under control, everything she said seemed to set him off.
Orren finally heaved a breath, his silver eyes held tiny sparkling stars as he watched her, deciding on his words carefully. “There is an edge to every realm. Those capable merely walk through.”
Nodding, she wrapped her hand around Zura’s under the table. “Where is the edge to the Dark Realm and how would you get to the Mortal Realm from there.”
They may not believe her, but something inside her told her she needed to go to the Mortal Realm. Things were familiar there. If it felt familiar maybe it would shine a light on the shadows in her mind. If not, she would at least be somewhere she knew how to navigate.
Staying in the Dark Realm filled her with an unbearable sense of anxiety.
She’d only been here a short time and was already exhausted by constantly balancing on the edge of a blade. She needed to get her footing somewhere she knew how.
The Mortal Realm seemed like the best place to do that. Without a lot of the threats of the other realms she heard them discussing. She could handle a whack job with a gun, she could take anyone with a knife or their fists up easily. People were predictable, they had so many tells. She would be able to take full breaths there until she decided what her next move would be.
Wiping the heavy cloth beside her cutlery over her mouth, she laid it over her empty plate and pushed it towards the centre of the table.
Orren’s brow arched slightly. “I don’t think that’s best. If you left now Ela wouldn’t have the answers she needs to regain her barrier. Not to mention we still don’t know who you were running from in the Black Wood.”
Squaring her shoulders, she met his gaze. “It would stand to reason that since we were the only ones your Berserker found in the Black Wood, whatever threat was there has been dealt with and we have some time before whomever, if anyone, they were working with comes searching. As for your Oracle, finding a way to get her barrier back seems more like a you problem, since you’re the one who rushed to get her so you could have your answers.”
She should feel bad about the Oracle, but she couldn’t feel for anyone outside of the little bubble she erected arou
nd Zura and herself.
The Oracle had been dealt a bad hand. That was shitty. Still didn’t make it her problem. She hadn’t sought her out for answers, she hadn’t even known Oracles existed before the creepy woman appeared outside her temporary bedroom door. Everyone around the table probably thought she was being a bitch, she couldn’t care about what people thought about her. Not outside the bubble.
Ela’s eyes went wide. “Without you here we would just be stumbling around in the dark searching for answers. I can’t discuss anything about you. To anyone.”
“And I’m sorry about that, but again, that seems like Orren’s problem.”
Andrei’s eyes went from Orren to Melas then settled on Ela who was struggling to keep her emotions under control.
“Don’t you care? I lost my barrier because of you.” Her nose was running as she tried to keep the sob from escaping her chest. Her voice was a desperate plea, hoping to cut open Melas’ chest and expose her heart.
Unfortunately for the Oracle, her heart was carefully locked away and her words weren’t the key she needed to get to it. Melas tilted her head in thought. “No. You lost your barrier because of Orren. He is the one who called you here, not me. When someone sets your house on fire, you don’t blame the fire, you blame the person holding the match. Orren is your match. Take it up with him.”
Ela bit down on her bottom lip so hard Melas was sure she was drawing blood. Crossing her arms over her heavy chest, she slid lower in her chair, her eyes on her lap.
“So,” Melas continued. “The Mortal Realm. Which way?”
Andrei opened his mouth to speak but closed it when Orren raised a hand in his direction. “Going to the Mortal Realm as you are, with your memories missing, could be the death of both of you.”
“The Mortal Realm is more familiar than anything else for some reason. I’m more than capable of handling humans, I had no trouble handling your brood here.” She retorted. She knew what he was doing, he was trying to bring out her need to survive as a reason to stay. Somehow feeling like having her here, where he could keep an eye on them, would somehow make them more likely to survive.
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