Page 18 of Until the Heart Stops
Instinctually I tilted my head, offering my neck in submission, but his fingers rose to hold my jaw in place. I waited for the pain but it did not come. His eyes turned silver in their proximity, as if lit from within, a lock of his hair falling to obscure the scar running across his brow. Ihad the strangest urge to push it back, to learn the texture of it between my fingers.
“I make no excuses for the monster who sired me,” he continued. “But I have not spent the last eight hundred years sliding from beneath his boot only for you to assume I am just as monstrous as him.”
As quickly as the heat had pooled in my belly, it cooled beneath the weight of his pain. It was clear in the set of his mouth, the rose tint pooling at the corners of his eyes. But the thumb that held my jaw loosened, giving just the barest ghost of a brush against my skin.
“It is the only thing that connects me to them,” I offered.
Again, that soft furrow appeared. “What?”
“Risqeu lan Serang…I have kept it because it is the only thing which connects me to my family. Each night my grandmère greets me with her magic, my mother teaches me in her ledger, and generations upon generations sat on the stool I now own. Without it I am nothing.”
Callum shook his head imperceptibly, but I caught it all the same as he tucked his walking stick beneath his arm. “That is where you’re wrong, Mademoiselle Searah.”
I licked my lips and froze when his eyes dipped to track the movement. “Wrong?”
“Risqeu lan Serangis not the only thing that connects you to them. It is something, yes, but it is not the only thing. They will never be lost from you because they live on, here”—he pressed two fingers to my chest, right above the ruby, and I wondered if he could feel the thundering of my heart—“and here.” The two fingers rose to press between my brow. “They are the blood in your veins, the magic in your soul, and your grief—for I know you feel it—is a reminder of the love you carry for them, of whichyou can never let go. And you will carry that love with you until your heart stops beating…perhaps even longer.”
With each word he spoke, the façade of stone cracked until blood pooled in the corners of his eyes. And I knew I must have worn a similar expression on my face when his free hand rose to brush away the tear that had broken free down my cheek.
As if waking from a dream, his eyes widened and his hands flew away from me. All at once he straightened and took a step back with a dip of his chin. “Please accept my sincerest apologies, Mademoiselle Searah, it was thoughtless of me.”
But all I could think was of the grief of losing his touch now mingling with the rest until I was truly bereft. He took another step back and I fought the urge to reach for him.
“Lilith,” I rasped. “Call me Lilith.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, but it was no longer the impression of joy or amusement. If anything, it made the tears burn hotter in the corners of my eyes. He took a deep breath and bowed. “It is best if I do not.”
I did not need to ask why. Though he claimed to have escaped from his maker’s grasp, he still lay within his clutches. It would be unwise to be so familiar with a human, especially one who had not been chosen to be changed, and even worse one who worked in the Souzterain.
Yet his words burned as if acid coursed through my veins. I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat at the small rejection, curtseying as I had when I’d first seen him. “Of course, please forgive me.”
He looked as if he might have been burning too. His mouth opened, then closed, a soft clicking coming from his throat. His free hand spread wide before clenching into afist, the silver ring I’d seen that night at Eamon’s catching in the light.
Suddenly all my weariness crashed around me until I was sagging beneath its weight. I pressed three fingers to my lips and rose to standing once more. I didn’t think I could endure another moment here in the light of his beauty which had grown so bright it hurt my eyes. So I murmured an approximation of a goodbye, turning on my heel so I could for once be the first to vanish.
But I could have sworn I’d heard his voice before the crowd swallowed me, so full of sorrow I turned back to him, only to find the space where he’d stood empty.
“Forgive me, Lilith.”
Chapter 8
It had been three nights since Callum and I walked the riverside market and in that time no one from his coven had come. Even more frustrating, no letters had mysteriously appeared from the patron to whom I wished my mind had not wandered so often. He and Callum battled for dominance in my thoughts until they became a strange amalgamation of the two. Callum with blood tears standing in his eyes, hands outstretched laden with the gifts I had received, the scent of spice and apples swirling around us. But the night we’d spent in the market had given me nothing of his scent. The ones that had swirled around us had been too thick to pick out anything other than what I always associated with our city of Oylen. I had no basis to hope it was Callum.
Of course, it was safer without the proximity of Mael Auguste’s fledglings, though strangely, I’d believed Henry when he’d said I was in no danger from them. And, of course, there had been the fire in Callum’s eyes when he’d spoken of escaping his maker’s control.
But I should have known no amount of socialawkwardness could have kept Henry away. No sooner had I accepted that no one would arrive then he appeared with a wide smile and bouncing curls.
“Mademoiselle Searah, my goddess, my light, my muse,” he cried when he was still a hundred paces from my stall, arms outstretched.
A hulking vampire followed close behind, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. His thick black hair was braided close to his skull, the ends tipped in silver and gathered back from his handsome face, growing more beautiful when he gave me a conspiratorial smile. I’d seen this male before plenty of times, though my mother had never introduced him.
“I am surprised you have not banned him from your place of business yet, Mademoiselle,” he called, flipping back the edge of his roquelaure and exposing the fine green silk beneath.
“I would be hard pressed to cast wards strong enough, I’m afraid,” I answered with a similar smile.
My breath caught. Following a few steps behind was Callum, his face set and eyes hard. Adrenaline thrummed through my veins and I tried to fight the heat creeping up my cheeks.
But Henry nodded sagely, close enough to reach out and grab one of my hands between his, blessedly taking my attention. “Iamvery stubborn and desperate for attention.” His lips brushed across my knuckles before he straightened and withdrew a small scroll from his breast pocket. “For you, my extravagant songbird.”
