Chapter Twenty One...

Sypher blinked, the red in his eyes returning so abruptly that they glowed like jewels. He didn’t seem to recognise Elda’s face just an inch away from his. He staggered backwards, shaking his head like he was trying to clear a fog.

“What just happened?” he asked, blinking owlishly at her when he managed to focus.

“I d-don’t know,” she stammered. Her pulse was thundering, the demon’s promise ringing in her ears even when Clover peeked out of the doorway. Sypher started yelling at him. She was vaguely aware of them arguing, though the words didn’t register to her.

“What in Spirit’s name is going on?” Julian asked, stepping out of the shadows beside them and frowning at Sypher. “I heard yelling.”

“Your brother used the thrall on me.”

Julian blinked at his friend, then looked at Clover like he was stupid. “Do you want to die?”

“The one thing I said to you was don’t do that,” the Soul Forge snapped.

“It didn’t seem right to make you feel the pain of two bites,” Clover shrugged, tucking chin-length hair the same colour as Julian’s behind his ears. “You were fine until you started to come round.”

“Where’s Yani?” his brother asked, cutting off Sypher’s furious retort.

“Right here.” The shorter Vampire appeared in the doorway warily. “I was keeping my distance from the demon raging in the corridor.”

“Did you use the thrall too?” Elda asked, her words coming out in a thin croak when she finally found her voice.

“No. I was too far gone to think about it.” His eyes weren’t sunken anymore and a luscious green had darkened the pale white irises.

“I need to get out of here,” Sypher muttered, turning and stalking away. Elda followed him, almost jogging to keep up with his long strides. He seemed oblivious to the wounds at his neck and wrist still steadily leaking blood while he walked.

“Don’t you remember what happened after you left the room?” she asked when he finally stopped outside his door.

“No. It depends how far I go.” His fists clenched, then relaxed. “I went pretty far that time. I couldn’t get control back.” He squinted at her. “Why did he retreat? One second I was imprisoned in my own head, the next I was back in the hallway.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, not meeting his gaze.

“And he didn’t say anything to you?”

She hesitated. “What does varro mean?”

Sypher blinked, his eyes still unfocussed. “Where did you hear that?”

“He called me it.”

“It’s demonic. It means ‘little’.” Elda swallowed nervously. “Why does my demon have a nickname for you? What aren’t you telling me?” His eyes narrowed when she didn’t answer. “I’m trusting you to tell me the truth, El.”

“I’m not sure how to tell you,” she mumbled, looking away. She could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up her neck, threatening to take over her face.

“Just say it. My demon can’t do much to shock me these days.”

“I’m pretty sure he can.”

“Elda, look at me.” She reluctantly raised her head. “Tell me the truth.”

“He said I make him weak, but he didn’t want to kill me.”

“What else did he say?” She shook her head, looking back down at her feet. “Fine, I’ll ask the asshole myself,” he muttered.

“Don’t do that,” Elda yelped, but it was too late. He blinked, his expression entirely blank. Several long seconds passed, neither of them saying a word.

“I’ve lost too much blood for this shit,” he muttered eventually, turning and walking into his room. Elda felt like her boots were nailed to the floor. “Are you coming in or not?” he called out irritably. She forced herself to move, putting one foot in front of the other until she was inside his room, the door swinging shut behind her. The wide space suddenly felt a lot smaller.

“How much did he tell you?” she asked hoarsely.

“Everything. Gleefully.” He was sat on the edge of his mattress inspecting the bite at his wrist. She watched him shrug off his ruined tunic and ball it up, pressing the fabric against his throat. “That explains why there’s blood on your hand.” She looked down at her stained palm, flexing her fingers against the sticky sensation of half-dry blood on her skin. His fingerprints were still on her knuckles.

“I thought the contact might bring you back.”

“You hate blood.”

“I hate the idea of losing you to the demon more.”

“You didn’t push him away,” he noted. Shame settled sourly on her tongue, silencing her reply. He was right - she hadn’t even tried to stop the demon from making advances. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was overwhelmed.”

“Hmm.” He shook his head, still woozy. “We can talk about that later. Are you alright?” She nodded. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep a tighter hold on him in future.”

“It’s alright. You look like you might throw up,” she commented, hoping to change the subject.

“The thrall is to blame. One of the side effects is feeling like I drank too much.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I knew what was going to happen the second he bit me, but the thrall is instant and it was already too late.”

“You were in there for hours.”

“I was unconscious. When I replaced enough blood to wake up the demon freaked out and tried to bolt.” He rubbed the back of the hand that wasn’t bloody across his eyes. “I was barely able to stop him gutting Clover for getting in my way.”

“You didn’t hurt anyone. Now you need to wash off the blood and get some rest. We can think about everything once you’ve had a decent sleep and something to eat.” She forced a smile. “I’ll ask the others not to disturb you unless it’s urgent.”

“Wait.” She paused halfway through turning to the door. “What he did was inappropriate. Thank you for recognising that his actions aren’t mine.”

“Of course,” she nodded. “You share the same body, but you’re very different to one another.”

“We are.” He smiled tiredly. “Go do whatever you were doing before I interrupted you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.” When she reached the hallway, she let out her pent up breath and trudged towards the kitchen, praying she didn’t run into anyone else. Her body ached, her brain was spinning and her stomach still churned with a mixture of hunger and nerves.

Why hadn’t she pushed the demon soul away? The question bounced around her skull incessantly. She hadn’t pushed him away even when he’d almost kissed her. She’d just stayed where she was, letting it happen.

She trudged to the kitchen to find Lillian sitting at the wooden table. Elda considered turning round and walking out again, but her stomach was empty and she knew she’d never sleep if she didn’t eat something. She squared her shoulders and entered the room.

Lillian’s nose had been fixed since Sypher smashed it with his forehead. Her bruises had healed and she was as beautiful as ever. Elda moved quietly, trying to avoid initiating a conversation with her. She was cutting bread from a loaf on the side when the Fae broke the silence.

“I saw what happened in the hallway.” She didn’t answer, continuing to cut the bread without a word. “I saw the demon soul flirting with you. Why didn’t you reject it?” She gritted her teeth, biting down on her retort. “I don’t understand how you could be okay with that monstrous thing touching you,” the Fae said, wrinkling her nose.

“That’s rich, coming from the resident predator,” Elda snapped, not turning around.

“Big talk for such a small woman,” Lillian scoffed. “Regardless of what you think of me, you saw what the Spirits had to show you. You know exactly why the Compulsion is useful.”

“It’s barbaric,” Elda growled. “I swore I’d never use it. His life is worth more than the fear of what he might become. All everyone else has done so far is take steps to push him towards the very path you’re all so afraid of.” She turned to face the Fae, the knife clattering to the wooden counter. “You forced him to sleep with you, Lillian. You took something from him that you had no right to take and you have the audacity to call him a monster?”

“Because he is,” she shrugged callously, skirting over her own misdeeds entirely. “Demons are monsters. That’s a fact.”

“Not this demon,” Elda answered, some of the venom leaving her voice. “He’s different.”

“You’re a fool.”

“I don’t think I am.” Her brow furrowed. “He’s a Greater Demon, not lesser. He isn’t a mindless eating machine.”

“You’re right. He’s smart, and that makes him dangerous,” the Fae argued.

“Julian told me that the really dangerous monsters are the ones who know the difference between good and evil, and still choose the evil option. Sypher has never chosen the evil option, demon or not, and he’s had the chance to.” Her eyes narrowed at Lillian. “You, on the other hand? You went with evil. I think we both know who the real monster is.” Elda took her bread and grabbed a mango from a platter of fruit on the counter, starting to walk away.

“You’re naive,” the Fae muttered, shaking her head. “You’re going to doom us all. When he flips and you can’t get him back, he’ll kill you because you’re too soft to end him first. You should’ve stayed in your castle, Princess.”

“We’ll see which one of us is right when the time comes.”

The walk back to her room felt twice as long, her steps heavier under the weight of Lillian’s words. She’d spoken with conviction and she’d had faith in her choice to let Sypher be a free man, but there was always the nagging doubt that she was wrong. The doubt grew from a nag, to a shout, to a howl by the time she was in bed. The demon soul’s promise haunted her, but her reaction frightened her more. She hadn’t wanted him to pull away. She could only imagine the betrayal Sypher would feel if he ever found out.

Perhaps it wasn’t the demon that caused the downfall of Valerus after all. Maybe it was her.

A mountain, tall and pearly white, loomed over a vast lake, its sides steep and smooth as they reached upwards and disappeared beneath a cover of clouds. Foreboding, heavy and insistent, made Elda’s heart pound like a drum. She was peering up at the summit where it was concealed by puffs of swirling white, drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

She blinked and found herself somewhere else, standing on a cracked mosaic of white and gold, obviously ancient. Rivulets of red spilled from cracks in the walls, oozing down to fill a rough channel carved around the edges of the courtyard over centuries. The red river disappeared into the mountain she was suddenly standing at the summit of.

Tears of blood.

The skeletons of trees still stood in their cracked planters, listening to the wind howling through gaps in the stone as their bare, petrified branches reached for a sun permanently blocked by the roof of the cavern. Their corpses lined a path, leading further through the courtyard and towards a darkened stone archway. It beckoned her forwards, begging her to walk through and see whatever heartache lay beyond.

Fix what is broken.

Something horrible waited there, something painful. Elda wanted to leave but her legs refused to stop. So on she walked, closer and closer to that dark tunnel. Voices whispered to her, unintelligible and quiet at first, but growing with each step until they reached a painful crescendo of anguished screaming.

HELP US.

She stepped through the arch.

Elda awoke with a start, chest heaving in the aftermath of her nightmare. She threw the blanket off her legs and lurched out of her room, desperate for fresh air. Her lungs felt like they’d shrivelled and there was a metallic taste on her tongue that made her think of the bloody river from her dream. She stumbled through the hallways until she found the garden, landing on her knees in the grass and dragging in lungfuls of air. Even outside, she couldn’t catch a breath. A rope was around her chest, squeezing tighter and tighter with every second that passed. She knew it wouldn’t loosen unless she followed its pull.

“El?” The hand on her shoulder should have been comforting. Instead, she heard the screams of a thousand dying souls again.

HELP US.

She scrambled backwards, cringing away from the noise and slapping her hands over her ears, shouting at the top of her lungs to try and drown it out.

“It’s alright. You’re safe.” Strong arms came around her, enveloping her in a comforting embrace. Sypher’s chest touched her back, holding her tight as she screamed at the pressing, overwhelming agony being projected right into her soul. “I’ve got you,” he said softly, not faltering when she thrashed and screamed, her nails slashing his face.

“What’s happening to me?” she sobbed, trembling violently. “It was just a dream!” Sypher kept hold of her until the anguish subsided enough to breathe again. He was the only thing keeping her whole while the keening in her head tried to shatter her into a thousand pieces. When it finally abated, she collapsed against him.

“I’ve got you, El.” He didn’t let go right away, sitting in the grass with his chin resting on the top of her head until the trembling slowed enough for her to sit up and turn to face him. A thin line of blood trickled from the scratch marks she’d left over his eye and cheekbone.

“What was that?” she gasped.

“A premonition. The previous Keepers have been struck with them, though usually it’s their Spirits that get them. I’ve never had a Keeper get one directly before.” His brow furrowed with concern. “What did you see? You sounded like you were dying.”

“It felt that way,” she shuddered, unable to speak of it so soon.

“What’s happening? Is Elda hurt?” Gira came bounding out of the villa with his claws extended, skidding to a halt when he saw the pair of them sat in the grass in the middle of the night. The other guests weren’t far behind him. Even Lillian had woken from the noise.

“We’re fine,” Sypher said, getting to his feet and offering her a hand. She took it, her legs trembling. He noticed and frowned, moving closer in case she stumbled. “Elda had a nightmare that I’m fairly certain was a premonition.”

“Whatever it was must’ve been pretty horrible,” Gira remarked, taking in her pale skin and wide eyes. “Go back to your room. When you’re able, tell Sypher what you saw.” He smiled kindly. “I had a premonition passed onto me by Aetheria. Even secondhand, it was jarring. You shouldn’t stay alone for the rest of tonight if you can help it. It will likely come back to haunt you a few times.”

“Come on.” Sypher put a hand against her back to encourage her to walk. She faltered on the first step, her body betraying her. Before her legs could fold beneath her he swept her up into his arms and strode back inside. “You can stay with me for now.”