Page 89 of A Heart Of Bitter Poison
I hear the sound of ice colliding in a shaker and look to a small bar at the other end of the room. Ediye is there, mixing drinks. If she can’t make potions, she makes cocktails. I smile and head toward her, both eager to tell her everything that happened last night and too nervous to actually say a word about it.
“Hey babe,” she says as she hears me approach. “You okay?”
I nod and give her a kiss on the cheek as she pours a drink into a coupe glass and taps a tiny spoonful of edible glitter across the top. “What have you made this time?”
Ediye’s smile widens as she passes it to me to try. “Well, it doesn’t have any blood, but it still reminds me of you, so I’m calling it The Siren. Calvados, cognac, lemon juice and maple syrup.”
I take a little sip. It’s sweet but packs a punch. “It’s fucking delicious.”
Ediye beams with the success of finding a new concoction. “Take it. I’ll make another.”
I move to the couch where Ashen has settled himself with a glass of Eryx and Cole’s wine. As I sit to his right, his arm drapes over the back of the couch behind me and his hand rests on my shoulder as though this is the most natural thing in the world. It’s such a small thing, and yet it means as much to me as last night did. To not be hidden. To be loved among others. It’s been so long that it feels unfamiliar. Ediye sees it too. Maybe she doesn’t know the extent of things, or maybe she does. But the way she smiles, despite everything else that’s happening around us, I know she’s happy for me.
Valentina enters the room just as Eryx and Cole join us at the sofas for a game of whist. She seems serene on the surface but stressed beneath, like her heart is a little too erratic and her breath comes too fast. She glances from Ashen to me with her tight smile and I try not to sigh with dismay. Immortals always make assumptions about the Reaper in their midst. I know I have. And I can almost feel the stone walls of his fortress rebuilding around him.
I thread my fingers through Ashen’s where they rest by my neck and fidget with his hand, keeping his thoughts away from the lack of sincerity in Valentina’s smile when she tops up his glass of wine.
“I apologize for leaving abruptly last night,” Valentina says, keeping her eyes on me as her smile warms. “I felt it best to take care of the rogue witch in Câmpulung immediately. I value our safety here, particularly when we have guests.”
I take a sip of my drink and keep my unblinking gaze locked to Valentina’s until she balks and looks down at the next glass she fills. “That’s kind of you to go to the effort, but we have other problems closing in around us if Semyon Abdulov is in the area. He has a pack of significant size and strength, and he’s coming for the both of us.”
Valentina gives me a look that fills in all the gaps between her words. “Werewolves are a threat my home has weathered before. We have nothing to worry about here. There are layers of enchantments and I’ve recruited the best of the local covens to protect the perimeter. They can’t get through.”
“Semyon is not just your average werewolf,” I say as I level her with a fierce stare, fighting to keep the aggressive red gleam from my eyes. “He’s been amassing allies beyond just werewolves. He’s in league with shapeshifting witches. With angels. He’s successfully made hybrids. He burned my voice right out of my throat. And he’s not even our only problem if we have a faction of rogue Reapers on our tail. We need to get out of here and find a safe place where we can regroup and plan how we can gain the upper hand.”
Valentina gives me a hard look and sighs. She’s really hell-bent on making a stand in this castle of a home. And I get it, running is hard. Once you start, you might never stop. But it’s worth it to take the chance. I feel like an authority on the merits of doing whatever it takes to not get caught.
Ashen squeezes my fingers as I take a long sip of my cocktail. “I think it’s wise to take my wife’s advice.”
I snort my drink right up my nose.Jesus H. Christit burns like someone fired napalm up there.
“Par… pardon me?” Ediye says, her voice saccharine as a grin erupts on her face. I narrow my watering eyes at her as I try to control a sputtering cough. My cheeks burn as hot as lava. “Did… did you just saywife?”
All thoughts of Semyon and werewolves and deranged angels and hybrids with giant dicks flee from my mind as I turn my glare toward Ashen.
“Yourwhat? I’m not yourwife.”
“No?” he asks with feigned innocence.
“No. Doyourecall a wedding ceremony? Because I don’t, and I’m a vampire. I remember fucking ev-er-y-thing. And we vampires are melodramatic creatures that take shit like romantic betrothals seriously,” I say as I flick him hard, right on the nipple. “Sono, Reaper. I am not your fuckingwife.”
Ashen scoffs as he rubs his chest. “What then, mygirlfriend? That sounds ridiculous.”
“We’re not-”
“Life partner? That’s even worse.”
“Ashen-” I hiss.
“What, vampire, I’m merely abiding by your own rules.”
“Ashen-”
“You said in the restaurant that ‘mating’ was very ‘last century’. Is ‘spouse’ more appropriate? I’m unfamiliar with modern vampire relationship nomenclature.”
“That was in reference to sex with Andy Cartwright, notmates.”
Ediye barks a laugh. “You had sex with Andy Cartwright?”
