“You don’t want anything?” Zanya said.
She must have been thinking the same thing as him.
“That, and a lock of your lovely hair.”
Zanya tucked a silky wave behind her ear. “My hair?”
Arwan returned to his chair. “No.”
Contessa ignored him completely. “The choice is yours.”
“No, no, that’s fine.” Zanya gathered a lock in her fingers. “Do you have scissors?”
“You’re not going through with this,” Arwan said. “We don’t know what she will do—”
Contessa reached across the table, grabbed a chunk of Zanya's hair and yanked it out of her scalp. Zanya yelped and pressed her hand over the sore spot. Contessa tied the strands into a knot, and tucked them into her sleeve.
Arwan fisted his hands. After spending so much time with Drina, there was one thing he knew about a witch. Never give her blood or hair. Never.
Zanya rubbed her scalp. “Now that we have that cleared up, would you mind waking up Peter?” She paused before spitting out another word. “Please.”
“A deal is a deal.” Contessa tapped her fingers gently on the table. Moments later, a door creaked open, and Peter stumbled out. His eyes wide open, he ran his hands along the doorframe, and then the wall.
“His vision will return soon. It is merely a side effect.”
“Peter!” Tara ran to him and threw her arms around his neck.
Contessa handed Zanya a glass vial containing a multicolored liquid. “This is to be used as transport. You must throw it to the ground and shatter the vial at your feet. Stand in the mist as you hold a mental picture of the location and time in which you wish to go. Take caution not to allow your concentration to falter during the process. You must keep a clear destination in mind. You have only one, so use it wisely.”
Zanya stood and slipped the vial in her jacket pocket. “Thank you, Contessa. Your generosity is really appreciated.” She hesitated, then extended her hand. “I hope you consider us friends.”
It was clear Zanya was being smart—keeping a valuable person in their corner in case they needed her help again in the future. That didn’t stop Arwan from hating the idea of the temptress touching Zanya. Even to shake her hand.
To his relief, Contessa ignored her gesture completely. “Before you go, allow me to bestow some words of advice. Trust no one. Make no commotion to draw attention, and complete your task as hastily as possible. Every minute you spend there is another opportunity to be spotted.
“The masking spell covers only the guardian.” Contessa waved her hand over the table, producing a sack of gold coins. “You may use these as currency. They are extremely valuable and should cover your needs with excess.
“Sarian will only be found living among the affluent. Do not waste your time searching the towns or villages. But most importantly.” Her tone became grave. “Do not underestimate Sarian’s abilities. He grows stronger by the day. His magic is far more powerful than you realize.”
Contessa dolloped a clear ball of spit in the palm of her own hand, then smeared it on the table. She traced a symbol in it with her finger. “Farewell.” She flicked her saliva at them, spittle speckling their cheeks.
The cozy kitchen transformed into the rainy streets of a dark Victorian town.
Arwan stood beside Zanya, who stood with rigid shoulders and wide eyes. A horse-drawn carriage bounced past them while the driver shouted, his whip clapping against the air.
Arwan grabbed Zanya’s wrist and pulled her onto the sidewalk. She stared after the wooden cart as it disappeared into the fog. Her legs buckled. Arwan caught her around the waist, his own strength returning now that they weren’t near Contessa anymore.
Hawa buried her fingers in her hair. “Holy. Shit.”
“I second that.” Jayden zipped up his sweater against the bitter cold.
Hawa searched around them. “Where are Peter and Marzena?”
Jayden glanced around. “And Tara.”
Zanya spun in a circle. “How could Contessa forget them?”
“I’m not sure she forgot,” Renato said. “I have a feeling she intentionally left them behind.”
“Why would she do that?”
Jayden scoffed. “I don’t think Contessa likes Tara very much. Her or Marzena. And Peter was still recovering from whatever she did to him.”
Renato inspected their surroundings. “We need to find a place to sleep, and some more appropriate clothing.”
They wandered around the unfamiliar town until Renato loitered in front of a shabby wooden building. A narrow sign swung from two rusted chains over the door. “Ah, here we are.”
Arwan read the sign aloud. “Salvation Army. Four Penny Coffin House.”
When Renato pushed open the door, a bell tinkled to announce their arrival. A man dressed in an officer’s uniform with high leather boots and a police hat stepped directly in their path. “Will the bunch of ya need a box?”
While Renato talked to the guard, Zanya grabbed Arwan’s arm. “What are we doing?”
“It’s a homeless shelter.”
Her grip tightened. “He wants us to sleep here—in a coffin?”
“Apparently so.”
Renato waved them over. They gathered around the pile of clothes thrown in a wooden box. The stench of mildew, body odor, and liquor rose from the garments.
Zanya covered her nose. “These are rancid.”
“Perhaps, but they will allow us to enter a shop in the morning to purchase some decent clothing.”
“Why can’t we just wear what we have on? Our clothes are cleaner than these.”
“And unlike the attire of this era.” Renato reached in and fumbled through some of the garments. “We’ll stay here tonight, and go shopping first thing tomorrow.”
Hawa lifted an article and shook it out. She winced at its condition. “I guess I’ll take this.”
“Well, apparently I have no choice.” Zanya slipped on an oversize trench coat and tied it around her waist.
Arwan chose an old wool coat with tears and stains. He didn’t want to imagine what kinds of stains they were. At least the wool would keep him warm, even if it did stink of alcohol.
Renato rubbed his hands together for warmth. Clouds of breath puffed into the air. “Get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Zanya
Zanya examined the boxes—each wooden, damp, and disturbingly similar to a coffin. Her breath clouded the air when she blew into her hands, trying to regain sensation in her fingers.
“Well, I guess we should get some sleep.” Jay stepped into a box.
Zanya walked along the crooked rows until she eventually found one that was dry and cleaner than the others. Settling in the center, she pulled her legs to her chest and pressed her face to her knees. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever been so cold in her life. Even that winter at the orphanage when a bad storm blew out the electricity, at least she’d had a heavy blanket to keep her warm.
“Scoot over.” Arwan lowered himself into her box and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Come here, lie against me.”
Zanya gratefully pressed her back against his chest and curled up. So she didn’t have a blanket, but this was way better.
Arwan buried his nose into her neck.
She gasped and cringed away. “Your nose is freezing.” His hot breath caressed her neck.
He squeezed her tight and buried his nose in her hair.
“Guard.” Jayden pointed at them. “Those two are fraternizing in their box.”
The guard gripped his baton. “One body per box. Don’t make me tell ya twice.” He jabbed the air with his thumb over his shoulder. “Or you’re outta here.”
Arwan slid from behind her and hopped to the neighboring box. “Idiota celoso.” He glared at Jayden.
Jay spread a tattered wool blanket over him like a young child tucking himself in. “There.” He grinned smugly.
“Now I can sleep.”
“And while you sleep, Zanya will be miserable all night.”
Jayden’s grin vanished. “I didn’t think—”
“Because you don’t think!”
Sure, Arwan had a point, but if she didn’t say something to quiet them down, someone would end up in a nineteenth-century prison. “It’s okay.” She forced a smile through her quivering lips. “Really, I’ll be fine.” As long as she didn’t freeze to death overnight. Zanya curled up at the bottom of the box, the grooves digging into her hip. She tucked her hands under her chin. Losing fingers to frostbite wasn’t an option.
A heavy wool blanket landed on top of her. She peered over the edge of the box.
Jayden gestured to his peace offering. “There. You’ll be warm now.”
He may be a total jerk sometimes, but he was worth every snarky comment she put up with. “Thanks.” She took a second to find Hawa, and spotted her on a bench pushed up against a wall. “What? You’re not going to sleep in one of these luxury pallets?” Her teeth chattered through her words.
“No.” Hawa’s voice was cut off from the cold.
“Seriously, it’s probably warmer in here. At least the walls trap in some body heat.”
Hawa stretched the sweater tighter around her shoulders. “Yeah, and make a nice house for the bedbugs and fleas. I’ll take my chances with the cold.”
“Bedbugs?” Zanya sat up and searched for anything crawling along the cracks of wood or folds of fabric. She’d already agreed to sleep in a coffin, but she had her limits.
“Don’t worry,” Arwan said. “These boxes are made of cedar. Bugs don’t like cedar.”
“Oh…” That gave her a little reassurance, at least against the bugs. Too bad the cold couldn’t have such an easy fix. She lay back down and curled into a ball. “I don’t think very many bugs would survive in this weather anyway.” Hopefully she’d be more lucky.
The blanket was lifted off her, and a gust of wind shocked her body. Arwan lowered himself beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear. “To hell with the guard and Jayden. I’m not going to watch you freeze all night.”
Zanya sniffled and clung to him, her teeth still chattering. “My nose is freezing.”
He pulled the blanket over their heads. “There.” Even under the shelter of the quilt, Zanya could see his dark eyes watching her. “Now you should get warm. The blanket will trap in our body heat.” He touched her cheek. “Any better?”
How was she supposed to sleep while lying beside him? He meant well, and his efforts were paying off considering she could feel the tips of her fingers again. “Much better.”
His heartbeat soothed her, captivated her. She shifted, trying to escape the head of the steel nail digging into her butt. She tilted her head and unintentionally brushed her lips against her neck.
He swallowed.
Although she didn’t mean to, didn’t want to, tried not to even, she reacted to the shiver that crawled over her body.
“Are you still cold?”
She shook her head. “No. Not cold.”
“You’re shivering.” He scooted closer. Her breath caught in her throat. With a delicate brush of her fingers, she pushed a silky strand of dark hair away from his face. He was stunning. Even being hungry, uncomfortable, and wrapped in musty clothes, his body heat was all she could focus on.
She curled her fingers into her palm and pulled away. Self-control. Just…breathe.
But she couldn’t. Not with the butterflies in her stomach.
He slid his hand up to her waist, spreading his fingers over her ribs.
Self-control. Just—
“Do you want me to get out?”
Hell no she didn’t want him to get out. She ran her hand down his arm and to his hand. “No, I’m just…”
Totally freaking out.
A complete coward.
She shook her head and laughed at her own lack of courage.
Still, the temptation to kiss him tingled over her lips. She tilted up her chin, giving the invitation if it was what he wanted.
He curled his hand around the back of her neck, entangling his fingers in her hair. He leaned in closer, hovering close to her lips. She closed the gap and found the warmth of his lips with hers.
His mouth was like velvet. The fire inside her grew hotter, and her fingers somehow found their way back into his silky hair. His tongue to teased the opening of her lips. Her stomach jumped.
The energy built between them was explosive. Her body pulsed with heat, mirrored by the enthusiasm of his mouth. His hands tightened on her waist. A noise escaped her, one that began in her throat and ended as a tiny whimper.
Zanya recalled her dream, hanging in his arms while his lips trailed down her neck. She wished it were real. She traced her hands along his chest and under his shirt where her fingers traced his abs. He had the body of a Greek god and the kiss of an angel, or maybe the devil, with how the taste of his mouth affected her.
***
Arwan
Arwan lay awake, watching Zanya while she slept. He’d been awake for hours—not because he wasn’t tired, but because there was no telling when he would hold her again like this.
Her breathing was rhythmic. Long eyelashes were draped over the blush of her cheeks.
Dread washed over him when he imagined telling her the truth. The image of her backing away haunted him—her hands in front of her and her eyes wide with horror. He blinked, and the vision vanished.
Zanya stirred. Her arms tightened around him, then relaxed as she settled closer to his chest. He placed a kiss on her forehead, and watched as a faint smile tugged on her lips.
What he wouldn’t give to put a stop to all the madness and spend another lifetime lying beside her.
“Why are you awake?” Zanya’s whisper was groggy, her eyes still closed.
“Why are you awake?”
She groaned and pressed her cheek against his chest. “Because you’re thinking too loud.”
He paused. “I’m thinking too loud?”
“Shhh. Just go to sleep. You need to get some rest.” She kissed him tenderly. He savored the warmth of her lips and the way his blood spiked with adrenalin when she touched him. He ran his fingers over the curve of her jaw until she pulled away and lay against him.
“Go back to sleep,” he said. “You need your rest.” At least for a few more hours, if that was all he could have. “Que sueñes con los angelitos.”
“Hmm?”
“I think it translates to, ‘may you dream with the angels.’” It had been many, many years since he’d referred to angels.
Hours of darkness passed until the coffin house slowly filled with crisp, morning light. He was still awake when she drew in a slow, deep breath and curled into a tight ball. “Do we have to get out of this coffin?” She blinked open her eyes. “Okay, I never thought I’d say that.”
He chuckled. “Unfortunately, yes.” Though he’d spent the entire night wishing they didn’t.
She pushed up on her elbows and peeked out of the box. Arwan followed, scanning the silent room. Everyone lay asleep.
He pulled Zanya back down and nuzzled his nose in her hair. “You always smell like vanilla and lavender.”
She snorted. “Surprising, since I haven’t showered since yesterday morning.”
“Arwan.” Renato’s voice tore through the air in a sharp whisper.
Arwan threw the blanket off of them, the crisp morning air sucking the heat away from their bodies. Zanya stood, flipped up the collar of her jacket, and hugged herself.
Arwan’s muscles tensed in the cold. Hawa still lay on the bench, her nose bright red and jaw clenched—obvious signs of a dreadful night’s sleep. She sat up, her blanket wrapped around her legs, and only the faded gray sweater from the box to keep her top half warm.
“I don’t know why you picked that thing,” Zanya said “There had to be something warmer than that.”
“Maybe.”
Hawa slowly sat up. She rubbed her watery eyes and curled up on the bench. “It’s no big deal. I’ve had my share of nights sleeping in the cold.”
Zanya tightened the belt of her coat around her waist. “You could have frozen to death or caught pneumonia. Don’t forget what era we’re in. There’s no IV fluids or hospitals around.”
Her lips quivered over her chattering teeth. “Yeah, well, not all of us grew up with a silver spoon in our mouth, princess. At least you had a warm bed every night.”
“Uh, have we met? I—” Renato grabbed Arwan’s attention and signaled them to move out.
“Come on.” Arwan followed Renato’s lead, as did the rest of the group. Soon they were all gathered in a tight circle.
Renato rubbed his hands together and blew into them. “We should get an early start. First we shop, and then we find a suitable place to sleep.” The group nodded in compliance.
They slipped out of the coffin house and into the streets of a bustling town. The city of London was bright, enchanting and frightening all at the same time.
Women sauntered beside their chaperones, holding their hands properly in front of them while they walked. Young boys ran through the streets. They shot imaginary guns while playing cops and robbers, shouting and laughing as their leather shoes slapped against the cobblestone streets.
A gentleman crossed in front of them, his gaze turned to the ground. He tipped the rim of his top hat to cover his eyes. Arwan glanced down at his tattered wool coat. They must look like a gang of drunkards wandering the town.
Renato guided them to a small dress shop. He turned to Zanya and Hawa. “You two find some clothes. When you’re finished, pay with these.” He dropped several gold coins in Zanya's hand. “This should be more than enough to pay for a dress and ladies’ accessories for both of you. The rest of us will go to the gentlemen’s store across the street. We will meet back here in exactly one hour.” Renato gestured to Arwan and Jayden. “You two, come with me.”
Arwan stepped close to Renato. “Do you think they’ll be safe there alone?”
“Hawa knows how to protect herself quite well, and Zanya…well, I’m not concerned.”
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