Page 64 of Changeling
“Get to writing. I leave in an hour.” He strolls from my bedroom, silks swishing behind him.
Damn vampires and their damned speed.
What can I possibly say to Sebastian that won’t sound hopelessly pathetic?
CHAPTER18
Sebastian
I’ve damn near masteredthe glamour over my true form. I can blink away my wings, pointed ears, and glittering skin to walk freely through a human village. And blink them back again and be as I’m meant to be—a faerie. Glorious wings and all.
It’s nothing short of a miracle. I roll my shoulders, no wings at the moment, but I can feel them there now that I know what they’re like.
Tonight, I’m the third wheel tagging along behind Remy and Laurence into Wyckshire, the closest human town to Bran Vigny. Friends of theirs, Livia and Clara, own a bookstore here, but it’s usually run by staff. The women don’t live in town, though they often visit. So the four friends will have their reunion while I explore the town and pour over the store’s inventory for books that might help me learn more about curses.
Specifically, how to break them.
“I’ll bet Liv tells you off before even saying hello,” says Remy from his place at Laurence’s side. The two of them walk in front of me, arm in arm, along the cobbled street. I’d say it’s sweet, and it is, but it’s also hilarious, as their strides don’t match up in the slightest. Is that how Dominus and I would look side by side? I’m not small like Remy, but Dominus is massive. Somehow, Remy and Laurence make the size difference work. I suppose a hundred and eighty some years together will do that for a couple.
“She will not,” Laurence argues. “She’ll be too happy to see me. I bet you’re wrong. I will first get a hug, and a greeting.Thenshe’ll tell me off.”
“Why will you be told off at all?” I ask as we pass by shuttered shops. The scent of candied nuts hits my nose. I make a note to rise during daylight tomorrow to seek those out.
Remy glances over his shoulder. “Laurence has declined several invitations for a visit between the last winter solstice and this one, claiming his responsibilities to The Dozen, which, while true, don’t matter much to Livia when she’s throwing a party and would like our attendance.”
“Ah.” And what would a vampire party entail? Never mind. I probably don’t want to know.
“So”—Remy’s attention returns to Laurence—“what will you give me when I win?” His voice boasts confidence.
“Ifyou win, which you won’t, what do you want?”
Remy leans into him. “You know that thing you do with your tongue?”
Laurence’s laughter rumbles low. “I can think of several things. Which do you mean?”
“All of them, but specifically, the one where you—”
“I’m right here!” I clamp my hands over my ears.
Remy’s giggle is a lighter, airer sound than Laurence’s. “Sorry, Bash. We’ll stop.”
“Speak for yourself.” Laurence grabs a handful of Remy’s ass and squeezes.
A little yipe is Remy’s only protest, and it could be encouragement for all I know. These two can’t keep their hands off each other.
I huff a sigh and leave them to their flirtation, dropping farther behind. How nice would it be to walk with Dominus through a town like Wyckshire, holding hands under the moonlight and counting the nights until the new year. I envy what Remy and Laurence have together—such easy banter, such limitless affection, two souls entwined as one.
A yearning deep in my core pulses and aches. But my craving for Dominus is unrequited. His letters, few and far between, are sparsely worded and contain nothing of his feelings for me, so I must assume there aren’t any to speak of. I’ve told myself to move on, but actually doing so feels wrong. No one holds my interest in the way Dominus effortlessly does. It wouldn’t be fair to someone new to start a relationship when I’m still hopelessly hooked on the one who got away.
Perhaps if I’m able to free Dominus from the ancient curse, we’ll have another chance to be together. Maybe it would be different without that hanging over our heads. We could go anywhere—Asia, the New World, Egypt—or we could stay in the heart of Pest if he wished it. All I want is to be with him.
I lift my hand to the amber stone at my ear and run my fingers over its smooth, polished surface. I know I should stop thinking of him, but I can’t.
“We’re about to find out who wins the bet.” Laurence holds a door open for Remy and me. On the side, a beautiful carved wooden sign, Clara’s Books, indicates we’ve arrived at our destination.
I jolt back to reality and follow Remy inside.
The smell! Old parchment, cut leather, and fresh ink. I inhale deeply. Books everywhere, on display tables, stacked on floor-to-ceiling shelves. Scrolls tied with ribbons lie in baskets upon the floor. Lit only by the flickering glow of candles, the place holds a certain magic, which tingles along my palms.
