Page 59 of Changeling
Ugh. I’m pathetic.
I fiddle with the little stones in my ears. I didn’t have the guts to pierce my nipples after all, plus the jewelry is too lovely to hide beneath a shirt. In my ears, they sparkle for all to see.
Is he sad? Dominus has said nothing of the sort in his letter, though. Does he miss me as much as I miss him? Does he think of me?
Because between my lessons I do nothing but think of him.
Even these books are chosen for him. Half are research on curses and how to break them, and the others are in the many foreign languages I’m determined to learn. One day I will thank Rizpah for my scarf and gloves in her own tongue, even if only in a letter.
Reading Dominus’s words for the umpteenth time, I look for hidden meaning where there’s none to be found. The reality is, he doesn’t pine, and I must accept it.
Hundreds of supernatural creatures live in and around Bran Vigny. Several of them have already made their interest in me clear. Surely, Dominus has had others by now. I don’t know what I’m waiting for.
With a sigh, I fold the letter and tuck it back into its envelope, which I place under my pillow for safekeeping.
It’s early evening, and Tallula and Remy will soon be waiting for me in the courtyard. Sachi is off delivering messages. She says she never stays in one place very long, but not to worry because she returns often.
I’m itching to bring my wings back for good. We had a breakthrough where I swear I felt their comforting weight on my back, though it came just shy of physical manifestation. In my dreams, they’re present. Perhaps today is my day.
I may have lost my entire life, but I will gain my wings.
Hurrying down the stairs, I practice connecting with my magic. The tingling energy that always surrounded me, especially at my fingertips, is now a companion I can communicate with. It’s useful in all sorts of ways, big and small. At the moment, I direct it to tame my messy hair so I’m halfway decent to meet my friends.
Remy and Tallula sit on the wide rim of a garden fountain under the starlight, a perfectly matched pair, both so short their feet dangle over the cobbles. His golden-blond vampire radiance shines next to her silver-and-turquoise ethereal glow.
Though I must look dull in comparison—still stuck in my human glamour—I’m hopeful one day I’ll blend in with all the otherworldly creatures here.
Tallula sees me first and hops down from her perch. Remy follows. They smile in my direction, teeth gleaming, though some of his are much pointier than hers.
“Evening, Sebastian. Ready for this?” asks Remy.
“So ready.” I return their smiles, then lean in and place a kiss on Tallula’s cheek. She’ll be leaving soon, heading back to her cabin and to Nub and his fine cooking. Though she invited me to join them, I’ve declined for the time being. Access to Bran Vigny’s library is too important to leave so soon.
We head to Sachi’s favorite little clearing, a short walk in the crisp, chilly air. I’m cuddled in a new cloak of fine brown wool, gifted to me by The Dozen along with the rest of my new wardrobe, all from their overflowing coffers. Turns out vampires are adept at wealth management, and all I could ever need has been provided for me. They’ve asked for nothing in return, though I know my blood is prized as the cure for their aging sickness. I suspect their willingness to shelter me, though partially altruistic, is also in hopes I’ll be available should they need my blood. A bridge I’ll cross when it presents itself, but not yet. It’s too much to think about on top of everything else.
Tallula laces her arm through mine. “How are you feeling tonight?”
My melancholy stirs, a deep sadness and longing for Dominus, but that’s not what she wants to hear nor what I want to acknowledge. “Prepared.” I’ve studied, I’ve practiced, and I’m an eager student. “How are you feeling?”
“Excited.” She beams. Her wings flutter and settle against her back. What will mine feel like when they do that? Will they respond to my emotions as hers do?
As we reach the clearing, Remy raises his hands and conjures a blanket from thin air. It spreads itself, a buffer between our bums and the cold ground, and we sit atop it.
“Shall we begin?” asks Tallula, her wings folded neatly flat against her back.
“Yes.” Straight to it. I like that. I loosen my cloak and drop it to my waist. Beneath it, I wear a loose cotton shirt with a wide neck. If this works, I don’t want my wings to be encumbered by fabric.
Remy lifts his hands and waves them with an elegant flourish. The air warms as if it’s springtime and not nearly winter. Amazing. What can’t he do?
“Can you teach me that?” I ask.
“Yes, I think so. Shall we work on that today?”
I shake my head. “Wings first, human heater later.”
“Remember,” says Tallula, “you’re casting off old magic, not creating new magic. Make sense?”
It does, much like breaking the ancient curse on incubi or the picking apart of an intricate knot belonging to an old spell. I know I can do this.
