Page 77 of The Demon's Discovery
“Yes. And a man in a suit. I can’t put my finger on who he is just yet. There was another man, with red hair. I think I saw a little of what you did.” Vassago’s jaw clenched and his eyes flashed red. His fingers tightened around mine. “What is your curse?” I asked. “You mentioned it earlier, said that it’s managed.”
“My brother has supplied me with a special tincture to dampen the effects of my bloodlust curse for many, many years.” I waited, watching as the muscles in his jaw ticked and his fingernails dug deeper into the wood on the footboard of the bed. “I slept in the crypts of monasteries on and off for the better part of two centuries, learning to master my new impulses. That tactic was not entirely successful, but it was necessary to keep others safe.” His shoulders sagged, and he sat next to me on the edge of the mattress. “If I don’t have a safe outlet where the rage can consume me, for that urge to be satiated, innocent people die. I lose all agency to my curse, no matter what I do, how powerful I am. Nothing satisfies it except blood.” He swallowed, shame in his eyes as they dropped from my face to his lap. “And it does not discriminate. Young, old, innocent, or guilty… it must be fed. It has served a purpose now and then, like the day you saw me on the road. That day, it helped me defeat an enemy, but those instances are rare.”
I was torn between the desire to comfort him and the instinct to pull away. Regret poured from him, a deep sadness stole all his usual joy and bravado.
“Is that… When you’ve drunk from me, is that?—”
“No, Dragonfly.” He shook his head fiercely, taking one of my hands between his, horror in his golden gaze. “That’s entirely different and has always been part of my talents as a creature of Hell. Though I do wonder if the fact that you are fae has helped in some way.”
The sincerity in his words echoed through me. He had never lied to me, and I could see no reason for him to start now. “What is his name?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never even heard him speak. He hasn’t reappeared in decades.”
“What does he look like? So I know if it’s the same man I saw.”
“He’s got auburn hair. Green eyes, a devilish smile.” He grinned, shaking his head. “I realize how ironic it is for me to use that particular descriptor, but he always smiles as though he’s up to no good. Which it seems he often is.”
“Yes. I got a flash of someone that looks like that standing over me. Have you been expecting him to come after the book?”
“It’s certainly not out of the question, as I assumed he was the last one in possession. If he lost it to another after all this time, I thought he might already be dead.” He frowned, as though losing the opportunity to kill this mysterious man himself was disappointing, but it quickly vanished. “But it would seem he’s found me in Revalia, after all this time.”
Silence fell between us, my thoughts heavy and sluggish as I tried to sort through everything that had happened, everything I had learned.
“I think I want to clean up,” I said into the quiet. My stomach churned and every inch of me itched.
Vassago stared at me, gauging my state. Finally, he nodded and took my hand, leading me out of our small hut to the one next door.
Chapter 31
Greta
“Shall I leave you in peace?” Vassago asked, hovering near the door. “I can stand outside, make sure nobody bothers you.”
I looked around as I considered his suggestion, finding no tub. There was only a walled off area for the toilet and an open wet room with a pipe rigged up to spray water from above.
“No, I don’t… I don’t want to be alone,” I admitted.
“Nor do I want you to be, but I didn’t want to seem overbearing, especially if you need some space to digest what I’ve told you. Do you need space, Greta? Some time? It would be understandable if you do.”
I stared at him. The tall, confident demon unusually wary, somehow smaller. My heart squeezed. “I’m not afraid of you, Vassago. Nothing you’ve told me has changed the way I feel. You wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Wouldn’t I?” he frowned again, eyebrows pulling together. I knew what he meant, that night he’d teetered on the edge of losing control. But I’d been able to bring him back.
“No. You wouldn’t.”
He approached slowly, a spark of hope back in his eye. “Shall I wash your hair, then, Dragonfly?” He plunged his fingers into it and gave a gentle tug. “I’ll do yours if you do mine?”
The underlying heat of his words went straight to my core. “Yes.”
“Mm.” He planted playful kisses on my mouth, my cheeks, my neck, all while walking me backwards toward the wet room.
“Why do you always carry ribbons with you?”
He smiled as he reached out an arm to turn on the taps, testing to be sure the temperature was to his liking before sliding his hands up against both sides of my jaw and bringing his mouth to mine in a slow, tender kiss that had me boneless by the time he pulled away. He sipped and tasted, gentle in his ministrations as he lavished me with careful affection.
And that’s what it was, I felt it in my bones. He was telling me I was precious. Desired. Cared for. I had been so starved for such a thing before I met him that I couldn’t help but soak every ounce of it up.
“When I went into the catacombs of the Vincara monastery to sleep, one of the monks thought it would be helpful for me to have some measurement of the time that was passing. Every single week, he brought me a new length of ribbon. Always silver, always exactly the length from the tip of his middle finger to the inside of his elbow. He’d open the door of my little cell and place it in my hand. Even in my sleep, I felt the gentle weight. It gave me something to focus on. Marked my progress, such as it was. When he died, I was allowed to braid one into the cord of his burial robe. I’ve left one with every person that I’ve lost along the way.” His mouth twitched into a smile. “I never did figure out where he got such a massive coil of silver satin ribbon, nor where he stored it. If there was more after I woke and left the monastery. It was an extravagance beyond imagining for a monk in a desolate place, but I was always grateful. I keep them in mypockets, in drawers. Use them as bookmarks. I fear the day I use up my last one, but they have served me very well.”
