Page 69 of A Heart Of Bitter Poison
“You won’t turn out like Arne,” Cole says.
I glance over at him, startled. I realize then that it wasn’t at the forefront of my thoughts, but that particular worry has been lingering behind them like an ever-present cloud that blots out the warmth of the sun. “How do you know?”
“I don’t know. I just do.”
We look at one another for a long moment before I lean my head on his shoulder and wrap my hand around his arm. For a moment he seems to tense before he lays his palm over mine. “You’re a good man, Cole. Thank you.”
Cole lets out a breath that feels like relief, like he’s been carrying it around in his lungs for too long. Maybe he just needs to be told more often. “You’re welcome, Lu,” he whispers, and his voice sounds tight as his grip tightens on my hand. He clears his throat and pushes away from the tree. “I’ll take Cassian and Ediye to get the vehicles. Will you be okay here?”
“Yeah,” I say as I squeeze his arm and then let go. “I’ll be just fine.”
Cole gives me a little smile over his shoulder as he shoves his hands into his pockets and walks toward Ediye and Cassian. They start in the direction of Câmpulung, Davina electing to walk with them. Eryx and Ashen stay with me and we find a fallen log to sit on and spend time chatting as we watch the jackal roll in the snow.
When the others return with two sedans and an Opel van, we load up our things and depart in a convoy. Cole, Eryx, and Ediye lead the way, followed by Cassian and Davina in the second car. Ashen wrangles Urtur into the back of the van with a little protest from the demon beast who’d rather explore the novelty of snow, and we take up the rear of the convoy.
We drive for a while without conversation. It’s a comfortable kind of almost-silence, with just the radio playing and the occasional yip from Urtur as he dreams about whatever demon jackals dream of. Shadowy little mice or Romanian snow or frisbee in Ravello, I guess. The quiet lets me lose myself to thoughts and memories as we pass small towns and wide fields, rolling hills and snow-dusted mountains. The terrain becomes more and more familiar as we make our way toward Bran, where Vlad’s castle is now a tourist attraction for those who are interested in the bloody history of the man I made into the world’s most infamous vampire. Something that you humans think of as legend, despite the fact it’s true. I guess we immortals are better off for your unwillingness to believe in us. Even though we believe in you.
We turn off before we make it to Bran and head northwest toward Magura. The narrow dirt road climbs toward the Piatra Craiului mountains in a winding path of sharp turns. Urtur jostles awake as we bump along the uneven surface, whining when his head smacks the roof of the van over a particularly nasty hump. We’re still making good time despite the sections of potholes and channels where water has slid down from the mountains and carved veins into the surface of the road.
“I know it’s not the same, but it still sounds beautiful, Lu,” Ashen says quietly as he steers us along after the others, snapping me out of thoughts of Vlad.
“Huh?”
“Your voice.”
I didn’t realize I’d been humming to the song on the radio, something Romanian that I’ve never heard before but with a catchy melody that’s easy to pick up. We meet eyes long enough for Ashen to see my little smile of thanks. I turn my gaze to the countryside that stretches down from the edge of the road.
“How much elixir do you have left?” he asks, and though he tries to keep his voice measured, I can still hear the worry in it.
I fidget with the grip on mykatanato stop from rubbing my temple in a futile attempt to dampen the stinging pain in my head. “Probably not enough.”
“As soon as we find Valentina, we will find a way to fix it,” Ashen says. I see him glance my way in my peripheral vision, but I keep my eyes on the road ahead.
“I don’t think it’s going to be that simple, Ashen.”
I say nothing for a long moment as I watch the tail lights of Cassian’s car disappear around a bend ahead, then reappear once we round the curve. “It’s not like we can just rock up to some genetics lab and order them to figure it out.”
“No. But we can find Semyon and take the serum from him.”
I don’t say anything in reply. I still don’t trust Ashen enough to tell him everything. Not about Semyon’s serum or how he would be able to control me with it through his power as the Alpha. Not about what I know I’ll need to do to beat him without that power shifting to the next werewolf in line. No, I won’t be saying anything about that. So while I might lean into Ashen’s touch as he reaches across the center console to run his fingers through my hair, my thoughts drift further away, locked far beyond his reach.
I look ahead to the two cars in front of us and shift my thoughts to the immortals inside as we weave up the mountainside. “Davina was a Scythe?”
Ashen tenses at the sudden change of topic that I hope will draw him away from other thoughts. I give him a sharp little glance to remind him that he agreed to give me his secrets, and though I can tell he doesn’t rejoice in discussing Davina, he’ll do it anyway. “Yes. She was a Scythe.”
“What happened? Why was she reaped?”
Ashen lets out a steadying breath. His grip tightens on the steering wheel, the cushioned plastic protesting under his palms. “She harvested a body she shouldn’t have.”
“A Reaper?”
Ashen shakes his head. “No. Much worse.”
“An angel? That wouldn’t go down well I guess.”
There’s a long moment of silence. “No, Lu. Not an angel.” I look at Ashen for a long moment until I grow impatient and smack his arm. He glowers at me and I can see the fight within himself to give this secret up. “A demigod.”
“Awhat?”
