Page 41 of Blood from the Marrow
“Venice?” Elena choked on the poorly disguised lure. “Where the hell are you going?”
Zuri pretended to be startled at the sound of Elena’s voice. She looked at her, dark eyes wide. “To learn a little history.”
Elena’s mind was tired, but not too dull to miss the connection between the city and history. “Absolutely fucking not. You’re not going to a vampire?—”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Zuri’s laughter was caustic and cold when it slithered down Elena’s spine. “You think you can just pop in and out of this relationship?” She dropped her bag on the floor with a soft thud. “That’s not how this works. In or out, Elena.” Her arms crossed over her chest looked more like a self-soothing motion than protection. “And if it’s out, no fucking problem. That’s just fine. We’re still going to save your ass and take Sayah down with my witches and her Aglion and all your vampires. Librada is coming with us, so you don’t have to do anything but hide. Since that’s the only thing you’re interested in lately.”
Staggered, Elena shook her head. Stomach heaving and chest tightening, her body was in revolt. Like it wanted to mutiny in exchange for new leadership.
Hiding? That wasn’t what she was doing. She was fortifying herself against the darkness she’d let loose. She was…
Elena blinked, vision blurring. What had they been doing while Elena waited for the end? She couldn’t cope with the enormity of them fighting her fight. It was too much, too bright, too good.
She wanted to reach for them. To thank them and hold them and love them before asking a thousand questions. What turns had they taken to end up with Lib’s old cult? But it wasn’t fair to indulge and she did not allow it.
“I’m going,” Elena said, voice rough from disuse. “There is no way I’m letting you risk yourselves. Lib hasn’t been there in nearly a century.” Her thoughts raced to deceit and traps and lies in the shadows. A cult devoted to Lilith’s daughters and trapped in the past was not where she’d seek help.
Zuri stepped forward, chin tilted up. A new red tattoo on her forearm sparked with magic—light pouring out of her like the Eiffel Tower at midnight, impossible to ignore, impossible to dim. The air thrummed around her, power making her more alive than anything Elena had ever seen.
She had so many questions about that. Had she formed her coven? Had Librada gotten the relics for her? Questions rose and fell and remained unasked.
“You really want to come with us?” Marisol asked, the crack in her voice a dagger to Elena’s already broken heart.
“I might just let you,” Zuri said like she couldn’t decide how angry she was. “But it’s about time you wake the fuck up. That you realize we survived.” Her voice was low and fierce and vibrating with everything that made Zuri impossible not to love. “We’re fucking alive, Elena.” She raised her arms, tattoo pulsing, as if Elena hadn’t noticed her surroundings since they dragged themselves home from a bloodbath.
“We made it through hell, and it’s time we start fucking acting like it. If you step out of your fancy ass prison, this is over. No more hiding. No more trying to suffocate yourself with guilt and self-pity.” Zuri’s voice trembled and her eyes watered. “We are done surviving.” Her lip curled and the tiniest fire sputtered to brief life in Elena’s gut. “It’s time to fight. To keep what’s ours and show Sayah she made the biggest fucking mistake of her life.”
Thunder cracked, loud and sudden, rattling Elena’s teeth.
“Please, Elena,” Marisol said so gently it nearly brought Elena to her knees. “We need you.”
Elena felt the echo of their words in her chest. It burned with the desperate hope that they could see their way through this. That they could all endure this together.
The longing to reach for them nearly broke her, but Elena held her ground. She would not be the one to ask for more than she deserved. Not now.
But she was going with them. Into the fire, into the unknown, into the next impossible thing. And even if she couldn’t hold them, she could stand at their side. For now, that would have to be enough.
Elena nodded, uncertainty shredding her gut. She doubted she could meet Zuri’s terms. Doubted she could drag herself back to her body after so long. But they didn’t have to know that. Not yet. First, she had to see them safely in and out of another situation she couldn’t control. First, she had to protect them.
Chapter Nineteen
Zuri jiggledthe glass to get the last ice cube after finishing her private jet ginger ale. She crunched it between her teeth, earning a blank expression from Elena sitting next to her. Across from her, Bambi had fallen asleep with her arms crossed and her dark blonde hair half in her face.
“It keeps my ears from clogging with the elevation changes,” Zuri snapped at Elena’s non-verbal irritation. “Are vampires immune from the fucking ill-effects of flying?”
“Yes,” Librada answered for Elena from her place next to Bambi.
Zuri couldn’t take another second of Elena’s silence. It was the absolute worst thing Elena could do to her. What she wouldn’t give for Elena to just open her mouth and let all the toxic thoughts turning her soul septic out into the open.
Why couldn’t Elena just get the infection out? Rip open the wound that couldn’t heal while it festered.
“Sofia agreeing to stay behind came a little easily, huh?” Zuri asked, because it was true and if she didn’t get a reaction from Elena soon, she was going to open the door to her fancy little jet and fling herself into the afternoon sun. With six more hours inthe air, she couldn’t tolerate the charged silence. Not when they were in such a tight space.
“She understands that someone must remain,” Librada started before Elena found her voice and interrupted.
“Or she’s lost confidence in my?—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Zuri struggled with her seatbelt, furious that it slowed the momentum of her dramatic storm-off. “I’m not doing this broody vampire bullshit with you today. Not at cruising altitude.” She stomped toward the back of the plane, flung open the door to the small bedroom, and took a rage nap.
