Silently cursing myself, I stood and made my way to the bathroom. Keeping my eyes dutifully averted from the bathtub, I entered the steamy room and took a seat on the closed lid of the toilet.
I could feel Alaric's eyes on me, but refused to look. “There are plenty of bubbles,” he assured. “You won't see a thing.”
With another sigh, I rolled my eyes as I turned my head to look at him. There were indeed plenty of bubbles, but I could still see the top of his chest, slick with water. He'd wet his dark hair, pushing it away from his face to make him look even more ethereal than usual.
I did my best to maintain eye-contact as Alaric slipped a little further down into the bubbles. “You know, it seems like a waste of water to fill this gigantic bathtub just for one person,” he commented.
I smirked. “Well you're the one that did it, that's on your conscience.” Desperately wanting to change the subject, I added, “I thought Diana said she knew of the place the hearts showed me. Why does she need time to find it now?”
“Norway has changed a great deal since she was last here,” he explained, “and this is not a place you can see, it's a place you have to feel. She's using her connections to at least get an idea of the general area so we can go there and search.”
“So what do we do until then?” I questioned.
A small smile curved across his lips. “You could get in the bath with me.”
I stared at him for several heartbeats, then sighed, “Fine.”
His eyes widened. “Fine? I was expecting a lot of things, but fine wasn't one of them.”
I shrugged and tried to act like my heart wasn't racing. “We're stuck in a hotel in a foreign country,” I explained, “waiting for a very scary old woman to lead us to a place that you can only feel and not see. Meanwhile, we have an angry, sociopathic Doyen thirsty for our blood. Normally, I would be appalled by your offer, and I would snub you to the fullest extent, but I'm scared, and I'm cold, and I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, so I say fine.”
Alaric raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You are a very strange woman, Madeline.”
I smirked as I stood and began undressing. “Says the guy with cat fangs.”
He grinned to show his dainty, pointed canines, then watched my every move as I took off the holey dress, bra, and panties. I quickly slipped into the tub on the side opposite him, inhaling sharply at the heat of the water. I let out my breath slowly as my skin adjusted to the temperature change, then settled down until the bubbles nearly reached my chin.
Alaric's smile turned mischievous, and I eyed him warily. Before I could react, he reached through the water and grabbed my arm, then spun me around in one fast movement so that my back was pressed against his. A little wave of water splashed out of the tub a moment later to soak his towel where he had set it on the tiled floor.
“I said I'd take a bath,” I replied coolly, “I didn't say I was going to snuggle with you.”
“Shh,” he breathed as he lowered his lips to the side of my neck.
He laid gentle kisses all the way up to the base of my ear, making my chest and upper arms erupt in goosebumps, despite the warmth of the water.
“I—” I began, but he cut me off by turning my face to the side with one damp hand so he could kiss me.
My thoughts were a jumble of emotions, ranging from nervous excitement to guilt. The guilt was all for me, like I was letting myself down somehow, but it was drowned out by the feel of Alaric's free hand making its way down my ribcage.
I pulled away from the kiss and looked up into Alaric's eyes, which looked even darker surrounded by his wet hair. “Desperate times call for desperate measures?” I questioned weakly, looking for an excuse for my actions.
He chuckled. “Something like that.”
He pulled my face back up for another kiss and I gave in. I would probably regret everything tomorrow, but that was tomorrow. This was tonight, and Alaric's soapy body felt far too good against mine to just go to bed.
Some time later we ended up on the king-sized bed with the covers pulled partially up. Alaric was lying on my lower body with his head cradled on my stomach while I stroked his drying hair. My original plan of sleeping on the couch seemed pretty silly now, and seemed even sillier as Alaric's hand slowly slid up from my hip to the side of my waist.
His fingers found the little scars where James had stabbed me. His entire body seemed to tense. When I didn't react, he relaxed, and began running his fingers back and forth across the scars.
I could sense he wanted to say something, but was probably afraid of opening up a can of worms since the scars were kind of his fault.
“What is it?” I prompted.
“How did you know I wanted to say something?” he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice.
“I'm an empath, remember?” I reminded him, though really I was just going off intuition.
He chuckled and ran his fingers over the scars again. “How did you heal them so quickly?”
It was a good question. In theory I knew how I'd done it, but I wasn't sure if I could replicate it, or even explain it. “I used the energy from the hearts, just like I did when I healed Sophie after the battle.”
He moved his arms underneath my lower back and squeezed me tightly. “You know executioners aren't supposed to be able to heal, right?”
I smirked, but he couldn't see it. “Actually, I don't know much about executioners at all.”
He lifted his head to meet my gaze. “And you know nothing of your parents?”
“N-no,” I stammered, taken aback by the question. “Do you?”
He shook his head. “No. There's a chance I may have met them at some point, but I don't know who they are. Estus probably knows.”
I shifted to put another pillow behind me so I could see him better. “Would they be executioners too?”
I'd gone so long without thinking about who my parents might be, I hadn't considered that they might be still be among the Vaettir. The thought was both intriguing and terrifying.
Alaric lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “We inherit the traits of our mothers, but some lines are more specific than others.”
Confused, I nodded my head for him to go on.
“Since Sophie and I are descended from a goddess of a major pantheon, we have similar gifts to our mother. Other smaller deities are simply embodiments of nature, and the gifts inherited may vary. Your mother could have been descended from a major death goddess, in which case your gifts would be similar to hers, or she could have come from a lesser nature deity. Death is a part of all things, and can be inherited at random.”
“So what about my empathy?” I questioned.
He laid his head back down on my stomach, rubbing his hair across my skin to cause a delightful shiver. “I do not know,” he answered finally. “It should not be, just as your ability to heal should not be. Few among the Vaettir are true healers, and they usually descend from major deities.”
I sighed. He spoke like all of these gods and goddesses actually existed. I would never have believed it before, but I’d had a rough few weeks. I was willing to believe most anything now. I thought about my next question, then asked, “What would other executioners do with the leftover energy of releasing someone's life force?”
He kissed my stomach, sending another shiver up my spine. “They would keep it, or use it as a weapon.”
I took a shaky breath, then decided to ask a question I'd been wanting to ask ever since I found out what I was. Really, I’d been wanting to know the answer since the first time I’d killed. “Do you think I'm evil?”
Alaric lifted his head and looked up at me again, surprised. “How long have you been holding onto that one?”
I stared back at him. “Just answer it, please.”
He eyed me seriously. “You're not evil, Maddy.” I felt a moment of relief, but it was short lived as he added, “but you're not entirely good either.”
At my horrified expression, he rolled off me
so he could sit by my side and pull me close.
“I don't mean that how you think I do,” he explained. “In nature there must be polarity. A forest fire may kill many trees and creatures, but it also brings new life and fertility to the land. Death is neither good nor bad, just as you are neither good nor bad. You simply are.”
“But I'm a person with emotions and a moral compass,” I argued. “I'm not simply death.”
“Ah,” he said with a coy smile, “but you were not asking me about your moral compass. You were asking if you are innately evil, because of your gifts.”
I took a moment to think about what he'd said. “I guess I understand, but what about you? How could war ever be viewed as a good thing?”
He pulled me in a little closer, nestling me in the curve of his arm. “You are thinking of war in terms of bloody battles and rotting corpses. While that is part of what I am, that is not what war is in its purest form.”
“Okay,” I commented, “you've lost me again.”
“It goes back to polarity,” he explained. “Without one side, the other does not exist. Without conflict and chaos, there can be no victory nor peace.”
“I suppose that makes sense. Without darkness, there’s no light, and so on and so forth.”
He gave my shoulders a squeeze. “Precisely. Now we should probably get some rest. Come morning we will likely have work to do.”
I turned, my expression utterly serious. “Well then it's probably time for you to move to the couch.”
His eyes widened in surprise, and he opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.
I snickered.
Realizing my joke, he lifted me off him and pinned me to the bed with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“I thought we were going to bed!” I exclaimed, still laughing.
He smiled wide enough to flash fang. “Not quite yet.”
My laughter died down as I gazed into his now serious eyes. He leaned down and kissed me, and as he pulled away, I smiled. I'd already made one bad decision that night, so I might as well make another.
As he kissed down my chest, I glanced over at the heavy curtains covering the window. It likely wouldn’t be long until the first light of dawn edged along the corners. Early rising Diana was going to be pissed if we weren't up and ready when she was.
Pissing people off seemed to be fast becoming a hobby of mine, but it was better than a lot of the alternatives.
2
A loud banging at the door woke me, not like someone knocking, but someone trying to break in. Alaric was already up out of bed, struggling into his dirty clothes next to the bathroom door. I held the sheets up to cover myself and rose to search frantically around the room for my dress, until it dawned on me that I had left it in the bathroom. The banging grew louder until the door slammed inward, hitting the wall with a startling thwack.
I froze halfway to the bathroom while Alaric faced whoever stood in the doorway. He had managed to get his pants on, but no shirt. Before I could react, a woman barreled into him, sending them both to the carpet at my feet. I caught a quick glance of her bright blonde hair and black clothing, then turned to face four more people rushing into the room.
They all wore black, like the woman, and I didn't recognize any of them. Shouts and the sound of fighting echoed through the walls from the next room over, letting me know we weren't the only ones being attacked.
Two of the intruders, both men, went to help the blonde-haired woman with Alaric, while the other two, a man and a woman, slowly approached me.
“She's the executioner,” the man commented with a glance to the woman.
I looked back and forth between them, weighing my options. Sparring with Alaric was the only fighting experience I'd had, and I doubted I was any match for the pair in front of me.
One of the men attacking Alaric went flying across the room. He hit the wall hard enough to dent the drywall, then slid to the ground and was still. Five-hundred years of fighting experience had obviously done Alaric good. The man’s pain was only a dull throb to me, which meant he was either dead, or unconscious.
I darted my attention back as the pair in front of me finally started to close in. My eyes shifted from side to side while I hiked the sheet up around my body like a dress. My body felt strange, like I was feeling emotions and injuries from too many people, and it all just condensed into a huge wave of pain and anxiety. It made it difficult to move or even think. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to shut everyone else out. A measure of calm reached me, then my own emotions came flooding in. I opened my eyes just as the pair reached out in unison to grab me.
“Stop this at once!” a booming voice called from the doorway. The three of us turned to see Diana, looking a little mussed but unharmed, holding out both arms in a dramatic stance.
The two intruders that had approached me let their outstretched hands drop, then turned to face the new threat. Seeing an opportunity, and still blocking out a measure of the emotions around me, I ran to the man Alaric had thrown into the wall.
He was unconscious, but I couldn't tell how injured he was. I reached a hand hesitantly toward him, hoping that if he was near death, his spirit would reach out to me. The energy from one death wouldn't be much, but Alaric had claimed other executioners used that energy as a weapon. Maybe I could too.
I turned as one of the male intruders started shrieking to see Diana standing over his hunched form, one hand held out like she was Darth Vader. I searched for Alaric, but it sounded like much of the fighting was now happening in the hall. I wasn't sure what Diana was doing to the man, but he dropped to his knees and began clawing at his skin, leaving deep craters to fill with blood. I clutched at my own face, clenching my jaw against the sudden pain.
The horrifying sight was taken from my view as the blonde-haired woman that originally attacked Alaric darted around her tortured colleague and came to stand in front of me.
“I'm not going to hurt you,” she assured, “but I need you to come with me.”
I reached out to the unconscious man again, guiltily hoping he was near death. I could feel his life force, but it felt solid inside of him. I reached out mentally, trying to connect with the energy, but it wouldn't budge from his body, meaning he wasn't badly hurt.
With a glance at her prostrate colleague, the woman grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. It was all I could do to use my free arm to keep the sheet around me. I tried again to pull at the unconscious man's life force, but another answered. The energy came rushing out of the man Diana had tortured, ready to be released. It flowed through me as the woman began hauling me toward the door.
Rather than assisting me, Diana tilted her head as a strange smile crossed her face. I looked at her in panic as the blonde woman jerked me forward. She turned, raising her free arm like she was going to hit me, and I reacted by shoving the energy at her, much like I had done to Estus when I escaped the Salr with James. The woman went flying back, losing her grip on me as she shot out into the hall.
I stared at her crumpled form, dumbfounded, until James stepped into view in the hall. He was covered in soot and ash, letting me know he had probably burned a few people to death.
He looked at the woman, then over to me and chuckled. “Little mouse has some teeth after all.” He walked into the room, smirked at the sheet covering my body, then walked up to Diana. “Thanks for the help,” he said sarcastically.
“Madeline is what's important,” Diana replied coolly.
Not taking the time to ponder the harsh statement from Diana, I ran out into the hall in search of Alaric. I found him being helped to his feet by Sophie, surrounded by several dead people.
Seeing me, Alaric pulled away from Sophie and closed the distance between us, engulfing me in a tight hug as soon as he reached me.
Diana came into the hall, followed by James. “Release them quickly, Madeline. We must go before the human police come.”
“But they're not all dead,” I argu
ed, reluctantly pulling away from Alaric.
“They will be,” she said apathetically as James crouched down and slit the unconscious blonde woman's throat with a knife.
My stomach lurched at the sight. He must have picked up the knife sometime after we landed. I looked away as the woman's blood flowed onto the fancy carpet. The rest of the hallway was utterly still, but I knew the chaos had to have been heard by others. I wasn't surprised as police sirens suddenly wailed in the distance.
Snapping into action, I gathered my sheet tightly around myself and ran past Diana back into the room, then dashed straight into the bathroom. My wrinkled, tattered black dress was on the floor where I'd left it, looking unappealing and a little damp. Knowing I had no other options, I slipped the undergarments and dress back on, cursing the fact that we were yet to get me anything but a coat.
I returned to the main room to find James finishing off the unconscious man. In total we had five victims, the blonde, the two Alaric had killed in the hall, the man Diana had taken down, and the latest one, although I still had no idea what happened in the other rooms.
The sirens grew nearer.
“There's no time,” Diana barked. “Leave them.”
“I can't leave them like this!” I shouted, panicking as Diana put her iron cold grip around my arm and began to drag me out of the room.
Sophie had followed us in, and grabbed my coat off the couch as Diana pushed me in front of her so she could shove me into James' grasp. I began to struggle, horrified at the thought of leaving life in dead bodies, but Sophie cut in and quickly helped me into my coat.
“They're right,” she snapped. “Now move.”
When I didn't react, James threw me over his shoulder and carried me into the hall. Alaric had been busy checking the other rooms, but as we neared him James tossed me onto his shoulder like a rag doll.
“I have to free them,” I pleaded from my awkward perch, knowing Alaric would at least listen to me, but he continued walking forward as the others entered the stairwell.
“There's no time,” he explained as the door to the stairwell slammed shut behind us. “Besides, you'd be doing nothing for them once the police arrested you.”
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