Page 15 of Until the Heart Stops
Black like the feathers, the shawl was perfectly folded inside the box, with gorgeous black stitching across the edges. When it caught the light, illuminated snakes slithered across the seams. I took my time placing the quills in a holder beneath the counter before withdrawing the shawl, weighing the thick fabric in my hands.
Unlike the necklace, this did not hum with a sort of unknown magic. But it was warm and, when I brought it to my face, it carried the faint scent of spice and crisp apples. Perhaps it was the scent of the shop, but I thought better of it. This had to be the scent of the male who lavished gifts on me for reasons I could not understand.
He had not given me a way to respond and, as I did not know if I would see any of ourmutual friends,I did not bother to write a reply. I did, however, throw the shawl over my shoulders. The dress I wore was one of my warmest, but it still left something to be desired, especially with how old my cloak had become.
“I’m going to get going,” Adrienne murmured, peeking her head out from the curtain.
I sighed, chin dropping to my chest. Though it was only midnight, Eamon had asked yesterday if I could spare Adrienne for an event he was hosting at his home. Our nights were getting slower and slower, so I had acquiesced, especially when he offered to pay for her time as he would if he’d come to visit.
“Whatever he gives you, keep it,” I said, continuing the argument that we’d held on and off since yesterday.
Her eyes flashed as she tied her cloak tighter around her throat. “I don’t want it. You can have all of it.”
Taking a deep breath, I tried to fight the bone-aching tiredness I never seemed to shake. “It doesn’t feel right for me to take any of it, especially when he’s not even coming to the market.”
The corners of her lips tipped down. This was not the first time we’d had this argument. I fought it at every turn, even when we’d spent a month hiding the coin purse in each other’s belongings back and forth until she finally gave up.
“If you don’t accept, I’ll find a way to stick theoyistasto your petticoat,” she threatened.
I tilted my head back and forth as if weighing the idea. “Sounds festive.”
Adrienne threw her hands up in exasperation. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re going to be late,” I countered, checking the cracked watch I kept within the waistband of my skirts.
Another heavy sigh slipped through her lips before she leaned down to press a kiss to the top of my head. But when she pulled back, she paused, running a hand over the shawl. “What’s this?”
I shrugged. “The mysterious patron decided to give me more than quills.”
“Merciful goddess!” she squealed, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing tight. “I’m so happy for you, Lils. If anyone deserves this, it’s you.”
“I don’t even know whatthisis,” I muttered, returning her hug before leaning back to smooth the flyaways from her twist.
She touched a knuckle beneath my chin. “This is asmall bit of kindness in a world that has been nothing but cruel.”
Without another word she bounded off into the crowd and toward Eamon’s approaching form. I didn’t watch the way they greeted each other, the stilted and formal curtsey Adrienne would use or Eamon’s expression, hungry for more than just her blood.
Instead, I closed the ledger and withdrew one quill and a fresh sheet of parchment.
Sir,
You spoil me. I’m afraid if you’re not careful I might get used to these sorts of delights, not that I would ever admit to such a thing.
My inclination is not to deliver punishment, but rather a deep gratitude for your presence, regardless of my fear of what might be to come. My friend called it “a small bit of kindness” and I hope that is the truth.
Regardless, thank you for yours.
Mlle Searah
I rolled the parchment up and sealed it with my blood, tucked it into the pockets of my skirts and packed the rest of my belongings up.
Liam, our other blood giver, had sent word this afternoon that he was ill. There was no point keeping the stall open if I had nothing to offer. So I pulled the silver dagger from its holster, stepped over the ward line, and dragged the point across my palm to close up for the night.
I was tired enough I should have taken the opportunity to rest while the apartment was empty. There were a few books I’d traded with Liam I was eager to begin. But the idea of returning to our tiny home alone twisted mystomach until it hurt. So instead, I walked, nodding at the vendors I’d grown up with and ignoring the bustling blood dens with their lines of vampires spilling out the doors. Eventually I found my way toward the Rachay River where the new market now sat with its mouthwatering stalls of roasted meat and pastries. The water glittered in the half moonlight, mixed with the string lights and flames that gave the world a warm glow.
It made my chest ache to imagine that this had once been what the Souzterain looked like: a glittering golden market on the edge of the river that gave our city life, the scent of cooking fires and perfumes combining into a heady mix. But when the Covenant had outlawed drinking from a living source, they’d conducted raids on the Souzterain vendors. Within weeks most of the business were shut down and many were killed. My great-grandmère had been a seer and my family had survived the worst of it, setting up shop with the others in the magically expanded alley only steps from the river and warded from most harm. The Covenant at the time had either no knowledge of it, or had allowed it to survive for other reasons—most likely to infiltrate later. But I couldn’t help but wonder what it had been like when it wasn’t relegated to a back-alley black market.
I ducked beneath wreaths of dried flowers, nodding at the witch who weaved her small bit of protection magic into them.
