Page 57 of A Queen Of Broken Realms
“Thanks, both of you. Thank you for looking after our girl,” Cole says, and then the two lumber away down the hall. I can’t help the puppy eyes and pouty look I shoot at Ashen as the angel and demon pass a stunned-looking Roman to enter the bedroom.
“Our girl. I love them,” I whisper as I settle back under Ashen’s arm.
“For an acerbic vampire, you are soft on the inside, my wife,” Ashen murmurs into my hair, my chest brimming with light.
“It’s an angel and a demon and a witch. What’s not to love about a demglowstickelwitchelwich?”
“A dem…glow…what?”
“You two,” I say to Aglaope and Davina, both standing as still and cold as ice statues. Jeez. Not awkward at all. A nervous flutter twists against my ribs. “Come on. Let’s have a chat and get some things out in the open.”
Aglaope and Davina shoot a wary glance at one another and walk around opposite ends of the couch across from Ashen and me. We sit in tense silence as I think about where to begin, and I’ve nearly wrangled my thoughts when a flash of white catches my eye at the window. A large, scaly body drifts past the French doors. The underside of Zida’s serpentine head slides up the window with a long, loud squeak. Urtur’s tail thumps against the rug, a metronomic percussion to Zida’s scales.
“The snake wants in,” Ashen says, his eyes glinting with suppressed amusement as I rub my temples. Zida slides to the next window, another loud squeak vibrating through the glass.
I groan as Zida slides along a third window before backtracking toward the pool. I hear a splash as her giant head hits the surface. “Goddammit, I really wanted to have a bath tonight, and now it’s going to smell like snake.”
Ashen gives my leg a squeeze and stands, heading to the French doors with Urtur on his heels to sort out the unruly serpent. I turn my attention to the two women as Ashen barks muffled orders to the disobedient snake and Urtur just…barks. “So, it seems like we all have a few things in common,” I say, trying to keep my eyes from drifting toward the sound of an angry hiss on the patio. “A demigod, for one. Aglaope, I know you struck a deal with Davina to harvest the body of the demigod. Who struck a deal withyouto kill him?”
Aglaope is motionless, her back straight and her black hair draped over one shoulder in a glossy cascade. “He gave me the name Sessum. But I did not see his face. He was masked. He said I would be paid handsomely to deliver the harvested blood, heart and bones, provided they were retrieved by a Scythe and processed by an apothecary according to strict instruction.”
“Why did he not kill this demigod himself?”
“I know not.”
“Did he say what he was going to do with the harvest?”
“He did not.”
“Great.” I try to suppress my growing irritation. A headache rises through my temples and skitters across my skull. “Where is the material you harvested, did you give it to him?”
“I never had the chance,” Aglaope says, her eyes sliding toward the window where Ashen struggles to convince the snake out of the pool. She looks next at Davina before returning her gaze to me. “I had captured the warlock Barbossa Sarno when he passed Anthemoessa, then travelled to Évora to kill the demigod.Sheportalled me home and was then meant to harvest the body,” she says with a tilt of her head in Davina’s direction. “The Reapers were upon me before we could make any exchange.”
“Davina?..”
“I took it to an apothecary named Franca Duarte with a sealed letter from Aglaope containing instructions for the next steps,” Davina replies. Her eyes don’t leave mine, even when Aglaope turns her penetrating gaze to drill at the side of Davina’s face. “It was so long ago. I don’t know if she still has it.”
“Any idea what was in the letter?” I ask, looking back and forth between them. Both women shake their heads. “Do you know why a masked man, presumably a Nephilim, would want this harvest?”
“No,” they reply in unison.
I sigh as Ashen strides in, grumbling something abouttoo many fucking petsas Zida slides through the door after him, leaving a wet serpentine trail across the floor. “We need to find an apothecary named Franca Duarte,” I call to him as he pours a glass of fangria from a pitcher and brings it over to me. His eyes narrow before he turns and heads back to the sideboard to gather glasses and a bottle of bourbon.
“That might take time.”
“I figured.”
“I mean,yourtime,” he says, casting a glance over his shoulder. “Ember reaped her soul a few centuries ago. She’s here…somewhere.”
A groan rumbles in my throat as I take a long sip of my drink and lean my head against the back of the couch. Ashen passes my way to lean over it and press kiss to my forehead with an apologetic smile before heading toward Roman to intrude on his vigil outside the door.
I turn my attention back to Davina and Aglaope as a heavy blanket of weariness settles into my bones. “Whatever the masked man wanted with the harvest, he either has the material already or he’s in the same boat as us, so we’ll have to leave it for now. We’ll search when we can, but we have a greater problem with the stones. The Nephilim obviously want those with urgency,” I say, zeroing all my attention on the two women before me, even despite the snake sliding behind my couch. “In the meantime, I know it feels like barely any time has passed for the both of you. I don’t know what kinds of conversations you had back then or since you’ve seen each other again. All I ask now is that you make space for one another while you’re here. You mean a lot to me,” I say, my eyes landing on Davina. “Both of you.”
Davina gives me a relieved smile, and Aglaope a look of pride with a demure bow of her head.
“Cyrus, can you please show my sister to her quarters?” I ask, and Aglaope hesitates for a moment before standing to follow Cyrus out the door. When she’s gone and out of vampire earshot, I sit forward a little on the couch, for some reason a bit more relaxed now that she’s gone. The truth is, I don’t really know what she was up to in the days before Ember stole her soul, and I feel unsettled by it. Oddly, I’m more comfortable with Davina on her own, which makes no sense as she was up to some shady shit too in her final days. And yet, when I look at her as she is now, still sore from the loss of Cassian, out of place in every realm, I feel a certain warmth for her that fuels my next words. “I have a favor. It’s a big one. But you can say no, and I won’t hold it against you. I promise.”
Davina swallows and presses her thumb into her fist, the only outward sign of her nerves. “Okay…”
