AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dragging myself up the muddy shore of the Styx is an exercise in misery. The last thing anyone needs is riverside muck in their bulletwounds. Though vampires aren’t prone to infection, I’m sure even the utmost supernatural bodies have their limits and I’m very certain mine lies somewhere between drowned electric bicycles and rotten riverbank trash.
I groan as I make it up to the Apshodel promenade and slowly curl up on the pavement. Someone is walking their dog – someone in Midnight City isalwayswalking their dog –and changes to the other side of the road when they see me. My body purges blood and water from its wounds for a while until I finally have it in me to limp to the parking lot that Celeste is supposed to be waiting in. Before I reach the car, the door has already flown open.
“What happened?” She walks around the back and steadies me with her hands.
God, she smells nice.“I got shot.”
She lets out a grunt of frustration and gestures to the leather seats. “Sit.”
I steady myself against the car, looking down at my dripping and bloody clothes. “But I’ll ruin your car.”
Her face is stern as she manhandles me onto the seat. “I saidsit down.”
With a groan I curl up and lean my head against the seat in front. My torn muscles seem to convulse around the bullets. Stars dance behind my eyes.
Leaning in through the door, she lifts my hoodie. “Let me see.”
I flinch back before I can stop myself. “I’m fine. I’m a vampire, remember? Can’t die. I just gotta wait for my body to work the bullets out.”
Her expression looks appalled. “Or you could just let me help you. Lean back.”
I don’t want to. I want to lie down and cry until it’s over. But I have a hard time refusing hot women, even under the worst of circumstances. Trying to keep my breathing steady, I lean back and steady myself against the backrest in front.
Celeste runs her hand over my stomach and I can feel the distinct prickle of magic. As if it weren’t cold and miserable enough, it seems to zap the last bit of warmth from my skin. At the same time, pain shoots through my abdomen. I grunt and dig my fingers into the leather until it breaks. A moment later, the bullet falls into my lap.
Briefly, I sigh with relief, before Celeste gets started on the other two, making me take off my soggy hoody. I’m quite certain I look like a drowned rat and it’snotan attractive look for me. I’m sure the whimpering doesn’t hep, either.Once the other bullets have also come out, leaving me curled up and weeping quietly, she says, “There,” and slams the door shut.
By the time the pain eases enough that I can take stock of my surroundings, the car is moving.
“I didn’t expect to get shot,” I groan. “Sorry someone saw me.”
Her eyebrows narrow slightly. “They’ll know it was me either way. I’m just surprised there was someone there with a gun. Maybe they were expecting sabotage.”
We drive in silence for a while, with me too focussed on the pain to make conversation, until Celeste signals the driver to stop. I look up. We’re still in Asphodel, having wound our way up one of the hills.
Celeste brushes my shoulder and nods towards the back of the car. “Look.”
From where we’re stopped, you can’t see the river. But you can see Elysium’s glossy skyscrapers on the other side – and the flickering orange and red light thrown across them by the roaring flames of a boat burning up on the water.
Celeste’s gaze is burning in my neck and I turn to meet her eyes. “You did it.”
As the car begins to continue up the hill, I watch the flickering light disappear in the distance. “So how does what I did helpthose girls whose blood Charon’s Veil is selling?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the pang of guilt I fear at biting that man.
“It’s the essence of a plant called bindweed, something we call an insulator.” She looks thoughtful for a moment. “Magic, at its very basic, is the transformation of energy from one type into another. Insulators prevent that from happening.”
“So… it’s like an anti-magic elixir.”
Grimacing, she begins, “No, elixirs are more like catalysts–” She shakes her head, stopping herself. With what looks like great pains, she says, “Sure, I guess you could say that.”
“And injecting it means you can’t use magic?”
“There are some very rare exceptions and I’ve been trying to figure out a way around it but, essentially, yes.”
“Wouldn’t these injections make the girls realise that the way they’re being treated is not normal?”
“Witches have been persecuted for hundreds of years, kitten. There’s so much misinformation out there, it’s easy to spin some false narrative. Their abusers make them feel guilty for having this power, so they can force a cure or a medicine on them.”
“So that’s the reason you had me destroy it? You’re being the knight in shining armor again?”
