Page 24 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 1

One of the peculiarities of the spell that had first created vampires was that, for the first twenty-two years of our lives, we were entirely human. Then, on the first new moon after we passed that fateful threshold, we began to change. We became stronger, faster, with heightened senses and a thirst for blood. We also became infertile.

Because of this, the more powerful families—the families that could afford top-of-the-line medical magic—made sure to preserve sperm and eggs from their heirs so that they could be used to create a child who would be incubated in a magically-controlled device that was somewhere between a womb and a cocoon. Vampires tended to view having children long after being turned as something of a status symbol, and often treated those children as either a treasured trophy or a small, irritating dog who’d gotten too big to be carried around in a purse.

“What did you tell them?” I asked Gwendoline.

She shrugged one shoulder and inspected her flawless nails. “The usual. That it would be more advantageous to wait until we can use the marriage to either distract from something or truly consolidate power. They then spent an hour and a half arguing which clan would get to keep us, and what sort of dowry the other would get. It should keep them distracted for at least six months.”

“You’re a marvel,” I told her.

“Yes, I know. So kind of you to notice.” Gwendoline gave me a carefully curated look of beautiful, elegant nobility, then dropped the mask and sighed. She suddenly looked very tired. “I could use something to take my mind off it,” she said. “Feel like inviting me in?”

I thought about it for a moment. Thought about the cleverness of Gwendoline’s mouth, the sweet, tight clench of her around me, the pleasure of losing myself in making someone else feel good. Then I thought of the way Evangeline’s hands moved through the air when she was frustrated, and the soft look she’d given me as I’d made her drink a glass of water, and the horrible tacky mugs that seemed to be the only drinking vessels she owned. I closed my eyes for a long moment.

“I can’t,” I said, a little regretfully. “Not tonight. I’m just?—”

Gwendoline held up a hand to stop me. “No need to explain,” she said. “I just thought we might both need a bit of stress relief. I’ll find someone else. And you should probably get some rest, anyway. You look atrocious.”

“Always a pleasure, Gwendoline,” I drawled. She gave me a genuine, impish little smile, then went up on her toes to kiss the air next to my cheeks.

Gwendoline slunk away into the dark, and I didn’t watch her go.

9

EVANGELINE

Iwoke up groggy, with a crick in my back. Pothos was flopped across my neck like a scarf if scarves snored softly. I gently transferred him to a pillow so that I could sit up, and he let out a wheezy sigh before settling back down.

There were two blankets draped over me, and when I squinted at the coffee table, I saw a mug of water and a bottle of aspirin, along with a note addressed to me in Gabriel’s spiky handwriting.

Evangeline,

I dealt with the remains of the walnuts, and disposed of the concoction we made for the ritual last night. Please let the walnuts dry out for a minimum of a fortnight before consuming them as it will concentrate the flavor. I’ve asked your home to lock the door behind me after I leave, but I’m unsure if it will listen.

If you need find any more leads, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me.

Gabriel De Montclair

Below that was a phone number and a full address, zip code and all. I threw the note back down onto the table, popped two of the painkillers, and chugged the water. Then I treated myself to a nice long groan, scrubbing my hands over my face.

God, what had I been thinking, drinking so much on an empty stomach? And in front of Gabriel, too. Some of the stuff I’d said to him… I winced. I was just grateful I hadn’t made a pass at him.

My headache thudded dully behind my eyes as I went through the motions of making eggs and bacon on autopilot. Wonderful, wonderful greasy food would help. I munched on the bacon while the eggs cooked in the bacon fat, then piled the fluffy, golden scramble onto a thick slab of toast. I got the sense I would need carbs to face the day. Next to the sink, my dish rack had been filled with de-hulled walnuts, washed clean, and laid out in tidy lines.

“Oh, God,” I said to myself. “Oh, my God, I called him a dweeb.” I turned to Pothos, who was busily kneading the blankets I’d left on the sofa. “This is why I’m single,” I told him. “Because when I meet a hot guy who’s kind of an asshole but in a fun way, I get drunk, call him a dweeb, and fall asleep.”

“Aaaa,” said Pothos, emphatically.

“Yeah, buddy, you and me both,” I grumbled, pouring some kibble into his dish. He trotted over, tail held high, and began to absolutely stuff his face. I ate my breakfast quickly, then grabbed one of the canned iced coffees I kept in the back of the fridge in case I ever had a caffeine emergency, and took it to the shower with me.

Between the food, the coffee, and the hot water, I was starting to feel a little more human. I threw on some clothes, not bothering to look too closely and just grabbing whatever seemed comfortable. When I went back into the living room, Pothos hopped up onto my shoulder and sneezed directly into my ear.

“Nasty,” I told him. “You’re so gross.” But I scratched his cheeks until he started purring. With him still on my shoulder like a grassy parrot, I went down to the office. Work—that was what I needed. Work would distract me.

Soon, I was leaning against the edge of my desk, staring at the information I had so far while I dangled a piece of murder-board string for Pothos to play with.

“Four pieces,” I murmured. Four pieces in four locations. “One piece found in a dark embrace, where shadows dwell, concealed by grace… Concealed by grace?” I frowned. Something was ringing a very faint bell.

I grabbed a book on local history from the shelf and flipped through it until I found what I was looking for. I huffed out a humorless laugh.

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