Her cheek brushed Rhyden’s chest from how closely she was pressed to him, and she felt the rumbles of his voice as he spoke. "How the fuck are we going to find him if the two of you can barely even fucking walkandyou’re covered in blood?"
"I wish to t-try something," Auren managed, looking at Rin. He held his scythe out to her. "Touch the handle, just below my hand. Cyrus is a piece of your Soul. If anyone could find him, it would be you."
Rin reached for the handle of the scythe, her small, pale hand wrapping around it just beneath Auren’s. The blade flashed as it had below. Her arm brushed against Rhyden’s chest, and he tightened his hold around her shoulders.
Rin felt hollowed inside. "What do I—do?"
"Think of him," Auren prodded weakly.
And she did. Waves crashing against a rocky shore. Sugar rock tea, the sound of his voice, and a deep wound in her chest.
Her hair blew back from her face. She opened her eyes to find a portal before them.
They stepped through together, led by Rhyden’s strong arms. On instinct, she let go of the scythe, casting them into a pale darkness.
Stiff fabric brushed her arms. It was tight, cramped.
The sound of their breaths was far too loud in the space.
She reached out for the scythe, needing to see. When her fingers grazed it, light bloomed once more. She saw they were in a coat closet. Auren and Rhyden were practically standing on top of each other in the packed space, while a suit jacket was right in front of Rin’s eyes. She moved it away, the metal hanger sliding against the rack.
There, on the ground, head tipped back against the wall, coats and clutches heaped around him as if he’d struggled:
Cyrus.
His eyes were half-lidded. A gag in his mouth cut into the side of his pillowy lips.
Rin dropped to her knees, not letting go of the scythe, which forced Auren to fall, too, then Rhyden, who still kept his arms around them both. She heard him curse as his knees hit the ground.
"Cyrus," Rin sobbed, reaching for him with one hand.
He blinked at her, mumbling around the gag.
His movements were sluggish—like hers as she fumbled around his chest, nearly falling against him as she reached behind him to find his bound hands.
She couldn’t get it undone. She turned to Rhyden. "Help him,please?"
Rhyden licked his lips, staring at her. His fingers snapped. A short burst of flames lit up the closet as the ropes and gag were burned to ash. The flickering shadows of the darkened closet swam before her eyes.
Cyrus reached for her, lips smacking as he struggled to speak. His hands held her cheeks, thumbs wiping at the blood on her face. "You’re bleeding? What… happened to you?"
"Fuck, you’re high," Rhyden said harshly.
Rin saw Cyrus’s pupils blown wide, so dark his irises were nearly swallowed whole. "Who did this to you, Cy?"
"Didn’t see them. Drugged. Think it was the—drink." Red filled the air as Cyrus tasted what she felt. It was too much for her. She wavered.
"Cyrus, stop feeding from her," Rhyden whispered harshly.
The red snapped back as Cyrus shuddered, overcome by what he felt from her. "Why do you hurt so bad?"
"Later," Auren said, strained. "I do not know how much longer I can hold on. I still need to portal back to the penthouse."
Rhyden nodded. "Take her first."
Cyrus’s fingers tightened on her cheeks. "You know, this is the—the third time I’ve been tied up in the last few months, yet no matter how much I—beg you—youwon’t." He surged forward and kissed her. "I like this new gloss. Tastes like metal."
And that was the last thing Rin knew—his lips on hers, tongue tracing the blood—before she could fight against her exhaustion no longer.
