Page 39 of Blood & Bedlam

“There was no life for me, without you. Once we had beaten back the Ottomans, once Wallachia was safe again, I tried every method I could to die. They were dark days—I lost my humanity. I became more beast, a wretched, dark thing without you. I hurt people, Reine. I gorged myself, because I had nothing to tether me here. Hecate dragged me back from the edge of oblivion. She tied me to her so I could siphon the energy from her magic—and she, mine—to weaken the beast. She deserved more than the love I gave her, and when she finally left me, I deserved it. The goddess is radiant, and wonderful, and full of kindness, but she was never you. And I was never who she needed either. We were both just holding on to something in place of the black holes we nursed in our hearts.”

Through our link, I feel his pain, his truth, but even if I couldn’t, the conviction in his words would tell me everything I need to know.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Vladimir only shakes his head and dips lower to kiss the tears from my cheeks. “No. There is so much happening to you all at once. A reckoning between your past life and this one. I am here with you, for any and all of it,” he promises and I ache for him, the need in my body unbearable. “I don’t want to scare you, but every moment I’m near you I wonder if you can feel how desperate my heart beats for you. Can you feel it clawing through the bones and muscles just to beat near yours?”

My hand covers his heart, and I marvel at the magic there. How warm he feels, how he cries and bleeds and comes just like a human, but he’s so much more. His forehead presses to mine, and I suck in a deep breath, centering myself to him. Our bodies fall in perfect rhythm, and it’s only after a moment that clarity strikes me.

“You were across town.”

“I was.”

“You shouldn’t have come back for this. Cami, fuck. Her training!” Mortification washes over me, but Vladimir only chuckles.

“She’s in good hands. Her training won’t suffer because I’m not there for one day, though her nerves might,” he adds, pressing his lips to the tip of my nose. A throat clears behind us, and my cheeks burn when we turn to see Hecate standing in the doorway, looking like a goddamned angel with a glass of sweet tea in her hands.

“I brought you this, just in case.”

I clear my throat and push back just a bit to create distance. Vladimir’s hands on my body have a wild effect, and I’ve already embarrassed myself enough for one meeting.

“I’m so sorry. Thank you,” I mutter, but she only shakes her head and waves me off.

“You’ve got two worlds colliding inside of your mind. You’re entitled to a breakdown or two.” Her voice is so comforting, and on the other side of it, I can see why she got through to him. “You stink—go shower,” she commands to Vladimir with no fear.

He doesn’t hesitate to do as she says. Vlad swoops down to kiss me on my lips, a quick peck that’s full of fire, before shooting me a wink and heading out.

She wastes no time getting right to business, so I sit and try to do the same, but his words play in a loop inside my brain like the world’s worst earworm.

“He tried to kill himself.” It’s not a question, but the goddess nods her head anyway, pursing her lips.

“He did. Many times. It’s how we discovered he was indestructible. He asked me to help him, once. To find a way to do it. The others he’d turned were killable, the men he fought with, so it didn’t make sense at the time why he couldn’t. It seemed the ritual making him the first was a one-shot deal for true immortality.”

I hate hearing about this, that he even tried. That it might have worked. Unease works down my spine and I grab my sketchbook, flipping it open to find a fresh page. I start to sketch in an attempt at calming my nerves.

“Thank you for saving him.” I choke out the words, hoping they convey my gratitude, and I’m grateful when Hecate returns a kind smile.

“Anytime.” It should be a crime to be that stunning of a being and also this gracious, but my heart endears to the Goddess of Witchcraft. For her role then, and the time she’s giving up now, to help us. We work quietly, her poring over page after page, while I draw, in one of the most comfortable silences I’ve ever experienced.

Half an hour later, the arrival of Vlad is a real treat. He’s got on a pair of light gray sweatpants, a tight black tee that shows every divot of his muscles, and wet hair hanging around his face like a god. There’s no trace of blood on his knuckles, the wounds healed in just a short time. With the kind of confidence that mortal men could never dare to dream of, he dips down and scoops me up, knocking my sketchbook to the ground, ignoring my startled yelp before dropping us both on his couch. He’s propped up, and I snuggle against him, loving the way his fingers immediately go to my hair. The massage against my scalp is divine, and I bite back a moan; otherwise, it could get weird as hell in here for Hecate.

I glance over, but she’s poring over a book, a small smile on her radiant face, so I settle in and rest a large book I’ve grabbed from the couch onto my lap.

“Did you know my family had magic?” I ask. It’s something I’ve been wondering, since the memory we pulled loose on the terrace.

“No, I didn’t believe in that kind of magic then. There were superstitions, sure, but I had never seen sorcery or real witchcraft.” His thumb rubs a deep circle just under my ear, and I can hardly breathe with how good it feels.

“You weren’t suspicious when they arranged our marriage?”

Vladimir shakes his head, the deep rumble of his voice a welcome vibration beneath me. “Not at all. It was common to form alliances, and the arrangement was made by my father, before he fell in battle. If you were a witch, you kept it from even me.”

“I’ve searched your lineage, Reine, and Hermes and I have been pushing to coax visions from then,” Hecate says. “It’s more difficult, the further away the vision is in space and time. I haven’t found anything about your family in the ancient texts, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t have power. It was commonplace to hide, during those times. Witches were often burned as heretics, though most of those who burned were falsely accused.”

I’m curious, something needling at my mind. “In the memory, I said there would be magic that you’d never imagined. What happened that day?” Instantly, Vladimir stiffens beneath me, his ministrations at a standstill. I look up at him, but he’s staring over at the wall, avoiding my gaze. “Hey, you can talk to me,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his chest. Wherever far-off place his mind is relinquishes him. His chest rises when he starts to breathe normally again.

“Lycanthropes. We waited for them at the crested ridge, hoping to funnel them through the mountain pass. It was a tried-and-true defense tactic, and it should have stopped any size army, causing them to bottleneck. But these weren’t just men, marching on us. I know now that lycanthropes are infected shifters, mad out of their mind. They waited until the moon cycle became full to attack, and when they did … they tore us to pieces. Monsters twice the size of men sprouted fur, wolves like nothing I’d ever seen. I don’t remember how we escaped, but in the haze and horror, a small contingent of us did. We fought to get back to you, to our people. I should have died so many times. Arrows, claws, teeth. The men started calling me the rabbit, because I was too lucky to die. If I had known what was waiting for me at home, I would have wished for it on the field, with my men …” Vlad’s voice trails lower, soft and wistful, but uneasiness grips my gut.

“Perhaps your ability to stay alive only intensified when you turned?” Hecate offers, startling us both. I almost forgot she was still in the room with us, and it’s as if he did too.