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Before asking Quillion what I can do, another voice, far more familiar, jeers at me, “It’s about time you showed up.”
“Jesula!” I spin and launch right into my best friend’s arms, leaning into her mamma-bear heat before pulling back so I may cup her shoulders. Despite the deep velvet shadows beneath them, her eyes have not lost their Black Queen luster, and her crown of dark hair is strong with its brand-new blowout, except for all the fluffs of ash that have smeared it nearly gray. “Where have you been?”
Jesula wrinkles her nose at me and barks, “Where do you think I’ve been, Lys?” She waves a hand beyond the balcony as if it should be obvious. Especially with her clothes worn and splattered with blood, vomit, and even spit up from babies. Countless bags of clothes and food surround her soiled and weather-beaten boots. Her words claw wounds right through my chest, sinking deep into my Haloed heart. “I’ve been here, baby girl. I don’t stay in the pretty Court and get massages and go to parties with the occasional smuggle.”
“Jes, I—”
“No, you’re going to hear this,” she snaps, humbling and interrupting me while standing with her hands on her hips. I bow my head to her voice and beauty, as beautiful as dark wings that would welcome me and empower me before every mission. “Thanks to my connections with Queen Amanita, Quillion was gracious enough to provide me safe passage and a knight bodyguard so I could help. I’ve been coming here every day since. I’ve been waiting for you to show up all this time. Fout tonè!” She curses in Creole, throwing her arms up in the air right before those eyes soften. “Look, Lys, you’re still my girl. And I know you went through a lot, and you’re going through some deep, existential spiritual crises.” She rolls her eyes before jerking a finger to the tent city. “But maybe, come down from your gilded tower long enough to see some of us are still out here working and—”
I throw my arms around her neck, causing her to curse again before she relents and hugs me back, that warmth penetrating. “Thank you, Jes. I’m here now. I don’t care what I’ve got going on, it’s not more important than you, than us, andthis.” I hold onto the sides of her neck and touch my brow to hers. “I’m sorry for retreating. I give you full license to light a fire under my ass anytime.”
“Careful…” Quillion nudges me with his elbow. “She’s got a silver-blood taser.”
I kiss his cheek in a thank you.
Jesula chuckles, her lips easing into a heartfelt grin because Quillion has that effect on people. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to stick you the first time we met.”
Quillion waves a hand. “Water under the bridge. And as long as you require my personal knight’s service, you may have it. Now that Elysia will be joining you, the Prince’s official escort will be at your disposal.” He indicates to the row of armored knight soldiers, but I shake my head.
“One knight is something but not the Prince’s,” I refuse. “I have my powers to protect me. Jesula has hers.” I lean against her, and she raises her chin as if to say, “Damn right”.
“Neo will be angry. Even angrier if I let you go downthere…” Quillion trails off, gesturing to the iron elevator that arrives off to the edge of the balcony.
“What else could he possibly throw at you?” I roll my eyes with a sprinkling of a laugh and move toward the elevator.
“I fear he will throwmethis time,” Quillion adds as Jesula and I get inside, but he makes no move toward us.
Lightness like wings in my chest, I blow him a kiss and flutter a hand as Jesula closes us in with the single vampire knight. “I’ll catch you, Quill!”
“One hour, Elysia,” he dictates, voice clipped.
As soon as Jesula and I reach the elevator base, I recognize it will take much longer than an hour. It might take all my power.
It might take my whole life. And my heart.
Chapter10
“You will get what’s coming to you tonight, Elysia.”
By the time the blood moon begins its ascent, the bond pitches through my blood system, reminding me of our bargain, I am ready to pass out.
Jesula finally catches up to me, “Lys, stop all this now!”
For hours, she’s been trying to get me to go back to Court. I’ve managed to slip past her to another part of the tent city, forcing her to search for me again. She reminds me that this is a marathon, begging me to pace myself. But I can’t, I can’t, Ican’t! My body is heavy, ready to drop, but my heart is heavier, and I won’t let it sink.
I don’t care about the blood splattering my gown or the layers of dirt, smoke, and ashes from bonfires. I don’t care how my muscles howl in burning pain for mercy. My blood hammers my ears. Desperate, my lungs claw for air while a silent moan of pain chokes my throat. My sluggish muscles protest, but I press on with another group that fawns over me after rumors have spread of the Prince’s bride, who is…what did they call me? A guardian angel.
As more families close around me, hemming me in, I shake my head, dispelling the title. All their emotions, their desperation, their agony, and yet their strength!—their love sings to me, compels me. So much stronger than I’ll ever be for everything they have gone through. My chest hitches. If I beat my body bloody for one fucking day to honor that strength, I’ll take that. I’ll become part of the salt, the blood, the scars, the stench, the ash, and the fire.
Thanks to harnessing my Halo, it doesn’t take anywhere near as long for me to transport the wool thermal blankets and sets of clothes. Still, they beg me for food rations. And clean water. That is the greatest effort, but the blessing of the Mother Goddess in my heart is more than up to the task of purifying any water, eliminating any potential Scourge infection.
Breathless from that cursed oath shrinking my lungs and flagellating my blood, I arch my back and cry out. I’m convinced splinters are shoving through my eyes. Clenching my hands, I somehow channel my warm, gold healing currents into one of many wells in the area that make up their water sources. Children hug me. Their warm bodies surround me like a cage. Their fingers strain with what’s left of my clothes. A raw wave of pain shoots through my blood, and I crash to my knees, gown ripping.
“Elysia!” Jesula’s scream is a haze, blurring in my ears.
Blood-curdling pain courses through my flesh. I grip my curls, wildly shaking my head. The blood oath punishes me. It launches invisible projectiles like musket balls into my brain and my body. It burns me from the inside out!
“Elysia…”
