by Lexi Ostrow
The Medicine show.
One of the potent elixirs might work their magic on her and cease the cravings. She had watched one fail to save her mother, but this was rather different. She was not ill. She was cursed. A pang as sharp as a knife slammed through her, and she doubled over, nearly dropping to the room.
“Audrey?” Thomas grumbled from the bed.
She winced, feeling sweat drip down her brow as she tried to force her voice to sound ordinary. “I’m fine, just a little stomach upset.” The pain was evident in her every word.
Thomas was sitting up, hand outstretched. “Come back to bed, my love.”
The platitude wrapped its way around her body like a warm hug. He’d taken to calling her that, and it made every part of her tingle with happiness, but second hard spike of pain stopped her from enjoying the moment further. She squeezed her eyes shut, and willed the thirst away, even as tears slipped slowly down her face.
“I am uncertain if that is a good plan, Thomas.” her words were nearly more than a squeak.
He was by her side, his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them, not trying to force her to stand upright. She could feel his concern radiating out of him as if it were a tangible thing betwixt them. She allowed him to help her to the bed and lay beside him, tucked against his body.
“Are you sure you are well? I have not wanted to alarm you, but I’ve watched you since your attack. At first, I had thought your actions were off because of not speaking about what you were put through. Now, now I am not certain.”
She could feel the tears stinging in the corners of her eyes and breathed deeply. She wasn’t ready to tell Thomas about the cravings. She wanted to keep it to herself, just long enough to try to fix it. If he thought Layel had poisoned her, or worse, damned her, it would threaten the alliance they were building.
“I am uncertain of the cause. I should seek counsel with a physician today. Please, do not stay awake for me. I know these hours at night draw on your strength, and you arrived home practically as the dawn was greeting the day.”
He rubbed his hand in soothing circles over her back. “I promise to be here more, Audrey. There is just so much to setup. So much to learn.” He sounded bone-tired.
“I know you do not mean to be absent. What you do and the lives you will protect are far more important. My mother was alone because my father could not tolerate her presence. I am alone because my husband is doing great things.” She smiled and realized she meant every word. She was not truly alone because she knew she had his heart, and that made things all right with her.
She felt the quick kiss he placed atop her head. “Come, try to get some more sleep with me. The rest might help with whatever ails you.”
Audrey didn’t share in his beliefs, but the medicine shows were never on until evening. There would be no harm in lying down with him and leaving to seek out one in Piccadilly Square. A small wave of thirst washed over her as she nuzzled her husband’s neck, and she felt the blood drain from her face.
Evening couldn’t come soon enough.
The streets were madness. All around Audrey, men and women shouted. Tankards of ale sloshed over as people shoved them high in the air to toast the wonders of the medicine man and his elixir. She had never experienced anything quite like the madness around her. Joy vibrated around everyone, it was overwhelming, and she smiled, despite needing to be in such a place for a poor reason.
Torches flickered, along with the oil lamps, and the streets glowed with a vibrant, eerie, yellow glow. Audrey stumbled sideways as a young man crashed into her, shouting about how he could walk again. Her heartbeat was racing in anticipating, the sound so loud that it might as well have been horses trampling about. Her stomach twisted, and she could hardly focus, though she wasn’t certain whether it was the excitement or her desire for Layel’s blood that caused it.
Another cry sounded, from a different medicine wagon, and her head jerked to follow the sound. Three older women stood hunched in front of a cart. A man in a rather dapper black traveling suit poured a rather thick looking white liquid into glasses and handed one to each woman. In unison, the trio lifted the liquid to their lips. Audrey could do nothing but stare as the women drank and drank, until finally finishing and removing the small glasses from their mouths.
“It’s a miracle!” the lady on the left shouted as she stood perfectly straight up as if she didn’t have an ailment in the world.
“It’s bloody perfect!” screamed the woman on the right as her hands moved in front of her face as if she was seeing them for the first time.
Audrey watched on, enraptured. The tonic was doing precisely as it claimed. It was healing those three women.
“Well, miss? What do ye think?” the man leaned over and asked the woman in the middle.
“I am not certain,” the woman replied as she ran her hands over her body. When she reached her knees, she smiled wide. Then, without warning, she kicked her leg out. “I can move it again! Mr. Edwin’s Marvelous Medicine cannot be beaten!”
“Oh thank God!” another cry came from the wagon across the way.
Shouts and screams practically assaulted Audrey as she stood and twirled. All around her men, women and children were proclaiming the effects of the medicine man they were in front of. She felt as if the world was spinning around her. Her heart swelled with hope as she took a step forwards.
“Mr. Monroe’s Life Tonic” was mere yards from her, and it would appear that all the elixirs were working, something she thought was strange, as they had not worked on her mother. Years have passed since your mother drank one. Do not be foolish, move your feet.
“And how may I help you, my pretty lady?” A man, likely Mr. Monroe, asked. He looked like all the rest—impeccably dressed, with a charming smile that matched glittering brown eyes. He even wore proper gloves on his hands.
She paused, eyes staring wide. She couldn’t possibly give him the real answer, could she? Audrey could practically feel her mouth water with her desires, and she spoke without thinking, “I am with child. I should like to cease the morning sickness that ails me.”
His grin grew even wider. “Ah yes, Mr. Monroe’s Life Tonic will certainly do that. Better than any ginger ever could! That’ll be three gold sovereign.”
Audrey paled at the cost. She and Thomas had more than they needed, but spending such an allotment without her husband was unwise. It was also unfair, as it was his work that brought money to them. The people around her had likely saved up for years or pickpocketed their way into the amount. A pang swept through her, and she was clutching her coin purse without regret, passing the currency to Mr. Monroe. He grabbed at it so quickly, she gasped. But when he passed the small vial filled with a dark red liquid into her hands, she forgot all about it.
It was as if the tonic taunted her, pretended to be what she wanted most—ichor.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you, lovely lady. Do bring the man of the home back, should he have anything that ails him!” Mr. Monroe called after her as she began to shuffle away.
She clutched the circular vial tightly against her chest as she made her way towards the carriage. Being out at night would have frightened her, had it not been for the early hour an immense crowd that she knew would have been about. Her carriage was lined up, just outside the entrance to the square, next to all the others.
With a nod to her footman that was far calmer than her emotions, she stepped into the carriage. Sitting there, holding a vial of blood-colored liquid, her mind flashed. Her breathing was heavy, blood seeped from her neck and a hideous yellow beast with black beady eyes clawed at her from the carriage window. In a flash, the image shifted. An Angel appeared, the memory of Layel, and without warning, the taste of his blood filled her mouth.
It was as if she truly were back reliving that evening. It was the tiniest drop, and yet, as it touched her tongue, it blossomed and overwhelmed her taste buds. Audrey snarled, fully back in the present, and jerked the cork from the t
iny bottle. Angrily, she tossed the liquid into her mouth, almost missing in her haste. She gagged. It tasted nothing like Layel’s blood. Nonetheless, the liquid slid down her throat.
She sat in silence as the carriage bumped and jolted along the path back to her house. Every second of the time, wishing that the desire for Layel’s blood would vanish. The people in the square had responded almost instantly, yet she continued to think of Layel’s rich, velvety taste. The cravings had not stopped when the carriage ceased to move, safely back in front of her home.
Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she squeezed the glass vial so hard, it shattered, slicing into her hand. She felt the rush of blood before it dripped over her hand, and she almost wished she craved it the way she did Layel’s. The smell simply made her more annoyed, and she quickly wrapped it in the skirt of her dress.
Mr. Monroe’s Life Tonic worked no better than the countless ones her mother had consumed before death had swallowed her. It had all been a rouse, charlatans playing their roles. She was cursed, and it was time she came clean to Thomas. Perhaps, together, they could end the desire she had for a demon’s blood.
Fifteen
Thomas couldn’t help but shake the feeling that something was off. He was almost uncomfortable, sitting in his office while he knew Audrey was in pain of sorts. That is not the real reason you are unnerved, and you know it. The thought slipped through his mind like a gentle whisper, but it alarmed him. The truth in it was impossible to deny. Audrey had been behaving queerly ever since the night she had been attacked. Yet, he did not believe her actions were detrimental. He might have prior, but now, he had a different hope.
Audrey had been stumbling round the house, drinking and eating all manners of things. She had grown sick not once, but multiple times in the early hours of the day when she thought he couldn’t hear. Hope dared to push at the corners of his mind. They had consummated the marriage long enough ago that her predicament could certainly be that she was with child. Many women showed signs early on, though childbirth was still oft dangerous, he dared not hope his family was beginning to grow.
He sat, staring at nothing, in the office lit by the crystal’s purple glow. Layel would be knocking soon, to help them gain more knowledge of their enemy. For the moment, Jacques and Gerard were likely in the alley the building shared with the Textiles Guild, practicing and training until they were slick with sweat and heaving from exhaustion. Louis and Antonio were in the labs, he could hear the muted sounds of mallets shaping metal and the occasional clang as something dropped to the floor.
They had come such a long way. Layel had held true to his promise, and they were outfitted with, at the very least, a tiny mechanical spider that could, with some effort, take a still shot of something. They weren’t positive how to trigger it without twisting a small gear on the outside of the bobble, but it was certainly a start. They had also successfully created a crystal-powered gun—a device that truly unnerved Thomas. The beam that shot out, once the crystal had been heated from pressure caused by the gears grinding, was lethal, to say the least. Louis had shot a crisp hole through the center of his work desk when he’d demonstrated it. Thomas shook his head as chills broke out as he remembered his own haphazard attempts at firing the weapon. They had come so far in nearly a week, and they still had so much further to go.
Layel was currently in the labs, dripping his blood into the crystals and trying to explain a system that could be counter-weighted with magnets, to allow them to track when a demon is near in the city. Once they had set up a perimeter of the crystals and magnets everywhere, of course. Once they succeeded, if they did, he had sworn the last thing he could help with was a small device they could use to communicate with one another. The idea had blown Thomas’ mind, and he had no desire to know anything about the creation, just to know when it was completed.
His mind jumped for the third time in as many minutes, this time to how his duties as Guildmaster had been slipping, and he knew that he would not be able to focus on anything. Opening the lower right drawer of his desk, he pulled out and slipped on his goggles before taking out the pebble-sized gemstone to reach out to Layel.
“Layel?” Thomas said in a quiet voice, feeling foolish for even trying. Nothing happened. The man didn’t appear. Gripping the stone, he tried a little louder, “Layel?”
Beautiful white wings spanned the space in front of his face as Layel was suddenly there. Thomas would likely never get over just how stunning the man was. Goggles or not, Layel was undeniably one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever laid eyes on, and he was grateful the man had not managed to snag Audrey’s heart.
“Was that completely necessary, given my location down the hall?” Layel asked, a smidgen of grumpiness in the words.
“I needed to talk to you about something, not Alliance related. Something private.” Thomas rose and closed the office door.
Layel quirked a thick brown eyebrow at him and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t appear ruffled, just curious. “I will help in whatever way I can.”
Thomas wrung his hands together, and his eyes shifted through the room. This wasn’t fair to Audrey, but he had to know. “Can you tell if a human is with child? Before they begin to show.”
“I cannot. I am sorry, Thomas. I am a demon, not a god. I’m able to command so much because of my blood. Beyond that, Pure Angels are just like any other demon, gifted with something unique, ichor is our gift.”
His shoulders sagged, and his head dropped. He’d wished the Angel had been able to tell. He needed to protect his wife, and he could not do that if some secret illness ailed her, or worse, if the fever did.
“Thank you. I admit, this was not the answer I had hoped for, but one cannot always expect miracles.”
“Thomas, do you believe Audrey to be with child?”
Thomas nodded solemnly. “It is that or a sickness. She has these strange . . . quirks. I have caught her drinking and eating at a pace far too rapid for a woman her size. She has suffered bouts of retching, as well as cramping. I had hoped it meant we had begun a family together.”
Layel’s demeanor shifted, so rapidly Thomas could not help but notice. The man had gone from stoic and curious, to shrinking away from Thomas with his eyes staring at the ground. His hands curled into fists at his side, the tension ricocheting through the muscles in his arms so hard, he could feel it up in his jaw. There was something the Angel wasn’t sharing.
“You did something to her, didn’t you?” The words were a low, angry snarl, and Thomas could feel himself shaking with fury. “You fucking did something to Audrey.” He lunged, forgetting just who and what he was attacking.
Thomas slammed into the ground, his nose shattering with a crack as he smacked his face into it. Blood seeped out and dripped into his mouth as he pushed himself off the floor and turned to look for Layel. He stood, meters away, as if he had merely sidestepped, not flashed out of the way.
He swung out with his right arm, and Layel caught his fist as if it were nothing. Thomas could feel the pressure as Layel squeezed, breaking at least one of his carpal bones, as his knees buckled from the pain and he hit the floor.
The Angel’s eyes were a soulless black, and Thomas wished he had thought before he’d attacked. If he yelled, his men couldn’t even hear him.
Layel’s grip did not loosen, but he spoke. “Do not attack me again, Thomas. Even on the best of days, fully trained, you do not stand much of a chance against me.” Slowly, his grip loosened. “I did not mean to harm you. If you would like, I will fix your hand and nose.”
Thomas scowled at the man. Pain throbbed in his hand, and his nose was still dripping a little blood. It was not what he wanted, but not taking the help would be foolish. “Do it, and then talk.” He narrowed his eyes at Layel.
Layel loosened his grip on his hand more, and Thomas felt the same strange tingly sensation he had felt outside the palace. Just like that, his hand bore no pain. When Layel moved to cover his nose, Thomas fli
nched backwards, not trusting the Angel completely. He didn’t strike him, though, just healed his nose. The blood still lingered, staining his upper lip and the front of his tunic, but the pain was gone.
Thomas wanted the rage he felt to simmer as Layel helped him, but it didn’t. All he saw when he looked at the man was a monster, someone who’d attacked his wife. Someone he would kill if he could.
Layel took a step back and raised his hands in front of him in surrender. “I am sorry for letting you injure yourself, but you attacked me. With cause, but I have self-defense instincts that override my need to see humans safe. If you promise not to make a go at me again, I will tell you what has happened to Audrey because, yes, I do know.”
Thomas ground his teeth together so hard, he could hear the smallest sound of it in his ears. His breathing was rapid, and his brain was shouting at him to attack Layel for whatever he had done. Yet, somehow, he realized that he might need Layel to undo it.
“Tell me what you’ve done, and then I’ll decide.”
Layel sighed and folded his wings away. “What happened to Audrey, it was a mistake. As you know, Angel blood— Fallen or Pure—is very powerful. It can create a bond, a dependence even, like that of your opiates. When I was saving her, I was injured. The demon, A Thrasher, sunk its claws into me. Some dripped into her mouth as I healed her. It was such a small amount that I did not think anything would come of it.”
His eyes shifted to the ground, and when he lifted them, Thomas saw anger.
“I was wrong. When I came to you at your home, after you left, she came out to me. She struck me, and I bled. She moved quicker than I could comprehend and licked at the small trail of ichor on my cheek.”
Thomas sucked in a deep breath. “Are you telling me, that my wife is addicted to your blood?”
“Fatally so.” The words held no emotion, but Layel’s eyes held so much.
The room was spinning around him, he could feel himself perspiring, and he grabbed for the nearest wingback chair. Crashing into it, he felt nausea bubbling its way up his throat. The acidic burn was nothing like the tearing he felt over his heart. His wife was tied to Layel, in a way that would likely drive her to her death.