Page 6 of Until the Heart Stops
That was when I found the box.
It was silver, just like the bag had been, with a beautiful filigree clasp on one end, sitting on my counter as if it had been waiting for my arrival. But the wards had been up—no one could have gotten through. I clutched the dagger tighter in my fist, circling the counter, keeping my eye on it like it might strike the moment I lowered my guard. But it was merely me being over-cautious. Nothing harmful could have been left within the wards, regardless of how it got there. My grandmère’s magic would have ejected it immediately.
Even still, I used the tip of the blade to flick open thelatch and lift the lid. Around me the market came alive, voices hummed, lamps lit, but I could only stare at the phials nestled into the black silk.
A tonic for Adrienne and a healing salve for Noah.
I looked up, searching the crowd, and though I saw a few familiar faces, no one was watching me. There was no inclination that whoever had left this was here still. But the burning in my eyes slithered across the bridge of my nose. Plenty of people knew about Adrienne’s cough, and Noah was a middle-ranking Vyenur—it wasn’t a secret there’d been an attack the night before last and he’d been left worse for wear. I had no idea who would have done this though. No one in our lives, save for our patrons, had this much to spare. So it had to have been one of our clients.
Between the phials lay another tightly rolled scroll. Keeping my gloves on, I plucked it and broke the wax seal.
I have watched you sacrifice yourself again and again for the betterment of others, Lilith Searah. But who takes care of you?
I dropped the parchment as if burned.
“Lilith?” Adrienne’s voice was raspy with her cough, shawl pulled tight across her chest.
Her hands curled around my arms, but I could only stare at the parchment. She rested her chin on my shoulder before freezing. “Merciful fucking goddess, is that…”
I nodded, throat clicking with a swallow. “It was here when I arrived.”
And though Adrienne was the sick one, she rubbed up and down my arms as if I was the one in need of warming. “This patron of yours is generous. Can he get you a new cloak too?”
“He’s not my patron,” I all but snapped, pulling out the tonic and inspecting the wax.
It was one of Cora’s. Her magical imprint was still on the seal and proof that it hadn’t been tampered with. Adrienne gave a chuckle and I felt her shrug. “Whoever he is?—”
“He might not even be ahe,” I cut across her before proffering the phial over my shoulder. “Here, take this so that mouth of yours can do something other than run.”
“I’m the mouthy one?” Adrienne countered before breaking the seal and downing the tonic. The scent of pine and arisha blossoms filled the air with her exhale of relief.
I tried to ignore her as I pulled the ledger out of my bag and set it on the counter. I turned to the sconces on either side of the doorway and blew on them gently until the flames leaped to life, relieved when they did.
Our magic was dying. Adrienne held little of it herself, though she always said her beauty was perhaps part of her power. According to my mother, I’d been blessed by the goddess. My power was marginally stronger than the others in my generation, but I was nowhere near as gifted as my grandmère had been, or hers before. But these little moments where my magic did as I willed it still made my heart squeeze.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled.
The blond vampire—Callum—stood a few paces back from the counter, staring at the newly lit candle. He was dressed as impeccably as the first time I’d seen him, though it seemed tonight he favored all black. It was a contrast to his icy hair, the black ribbon dancing through the strands like the inverse of starlight.
In the next moment, he was gone, vanished again as if he had never been there.
“That was strange,” Adrienne murmured.
I hummed my agreement, cheeks heating as I tucked the package into my bag in a show of nonchalance.
“That was the same male who was here a few days ago, wasn’t it?” she pressed.
I made a similar noise as I flipped open the ledger and settled back onto the stool with the inkpot I’d been trying to make last. She pulled my hair from my shoulders—I’d worn it down today, though twisted half of it up to stay off my face—and peered around me with her brows raised.
“Maybe he’s your patron.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “There’s more chance of Deimos setting foot upon the earth than that vampire being my patron.”
Adrienne rolled her eyes. Already she was looking better, a bit of the color returning to her cheeks and her voice less of a rasp. Whoever the giver was, I was grateful to them.
“Well, at least now you won’t have to sell the ink,” she teased, drew off her shawl and dipped beneath the velvet curtain before I could find a suitable retort.
There was no way that male was the one leaving me the gifts. For one thing, he could barely manage to get within a few feet of me. For another, each time I saw him I got the distinct impression he was…displeased. But it didn’t stop me from imagining what it might be like if it was true.
