Page 55 of A Queen Of Broken Realms
I pull the ancient volume from the shelf and slide my jacket off to wrap the delicate manuscript before starting back toward the others. I halt by the entrance of the kitchen where Mr. Hassan lays motionless. Clutching the book to my chest, I drift as though pulled toward him, even though I’m afraid to see what’s left of the empty shell that once held a warm and caring soul. When I stop at his side, I kneel, knowing I’ll never forget a single line on his resting face, or the way his lips are parted as though ready to exhale a breath that will never come. I’ll always remember the way the blood has dried at the corner of his mouth, smearing across his cheek.
Good luck, shakhs shabun. I will keep you in my thoughts, he said to me once.
“Good luck, old man,” I whisper as I place a kiss to his forehead. “You’ll be in my thoughts too.”
I turn away and join the others in the living room just as Ashen picks Ediye up, shards of broken glass tinkling across the floor as they drop from her arms and hair like rain. I stuff the book in Ashen’s backpack and grab the helmet, casting a wary glance to Roman and Wynter, the vampire’s arm tense where it rests behind her back.
Just as we’re about to walk out the door there’s a sound above us. My heart lodges in my throat.
They’re on the roof.
“Move,” Ashen hisses and we bolt down the stairs. We make it to the bottom before we hear the door to the roof open several stories above us. People stare as we burst onto the street with our injured friend cradled in Ashen’s arms, but they part from the demon like water as he slides through the crowded market. Every step we take makes us harder to find, and soon we lose sight of the building behind us with no one on our heels. At least not yet.
“We need to split them up,” I whisper, leaning close to Ashen in the hopes the street noise will drown my words from Roman’s keen vampire hearing. “We’ll put Ediye in a cab with the vampire. You take Wynter on one bike, I’ll take the backpack with me on the other.”
Ashen nods. I know he already hates this plan. I can feel his worry erupting in my chest. I can’t say I love it either. But we both know we can’t keep those two together. Splitting them up is the safest option if we want to hold them to their word.
“If anything happens, Lu, you need to get to the Shadow Realm and shut the corridor. I will make sure the Nephilim don’t take you.”
This stubborn demon.
I won’t leave this realm without him.I won’t.
I glare at Ashen and he glares right back.
My jaw tightens. His brow creases.
My cheeks heat. His pupils flame.
A coil of need snakes low in my belly as Ashen’s gaze drops to my lips. Danger and desire twist like twin serpents in my chest.
“S-stop eye fucking and just p-promise not to lose one another,” Ediye slurs from Ashen’s arms.
I smile, and Ashen does too. He gives me a nod and I give one back. That’s all the promise I need.
Ashen’s eyes don’t leave mine as we stop at the bikes, calling over his shoulder for the others to hail a cab. Roman waves one down and Ashen breaks away to speak to the driver in Arabic as he slides Ediye into the back seat.
I hand the helmet to Wynter and she pauses before taking it. “Roman, ride with Ediye. Wynter, you’re with Ashen.” Wynter’s mouth pops open to argue but she shuts it when I give her a fierce, glowing red glare. “That’s my best friend in there,” I say as I point to the cab, shifting my gaze to the vampire. “Keep her safe.”
Roman gives Wynter a long, conflicted look as he shakes his head. “I can’t—”
“You can. Youwill. Ashen will look after Wynter. I promise you.”
“It’s okay, Rome,” Wynter says. Her lips are set in a resolute line. The fear in her eyes is equal to her determination. Roman swallows a deep breath before squeezing Wynter’s arm. It looks as though it takes everything in his soul to turn away, confusion following him in Wynter’s expression as he goes. A last, fleeting look passes between them as he slides into the passenger seat and the taxi pulls from the curb.
“All right, vampire?”
Those words reel me right in. My flighty gaze stops hunting for anyone moving too quickly, anyone looking at us too long, anyone out of place. It comes to rest in Ashen’s cognac eyes, lit with the afternoon sun. I realize for the first time how much cognac is like copper. Diluted, liquid copper. Rich and warm. The world shrinks and grows, both at the same time. All I see is him. And all I feel is everything good the world still has to give.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
Ashen catches a lock of my hair and twists it, denying the wind of more chaos. He tucks it between the other strands gripped tight by my ponytail. “Safe driving. If anyone gives you trouble, just remember the second most important truth.”
“What’s that?”
“You cannot pilot a submarine.”
I guffaw an incredulous laugh. Ashen’s eyes brighten as a devious smile breaks through his stoic facade. “How is that supposed to help me?”
