Page 45 of Blood from the Marrow
“Zuri, don’t. We’ll find out another way—” Elena said with more emotion than she’d heard since Georgia.
“Are you sure this is worth it?” Zuri asked Lib and ignored Elena.
“No,” Lib admitted. “But Sabina is twice as old as any vampire still in society. She is our best chance?—”
“And we don’t have the luxury of time,” Zuri finished her sentence. “Alright, at least get us where someone can’t see us?” It was another illusion of safety, but she needed to get out of the open. She felt like a fluffy bunny in the middle of a wolf enclosure.
When everyone started for the small stone building, Elena had no choice but to follow. Zuri was surprised that her having made a decision for the group hadn’t triggered Elena to dive for the driver’s seat and wrestle back control. Disheartened that she hadn’t.
Inside the single-room structure used to store lawn equipment, magic hummed. It wasn’t fresh, active magic. It was woven into the stones; an old, lingering energy, as if witches had infused their power into the masonry when the monastery was first built. The closest thing Zuri had ever seen were coven houses, but the magic there was from a relic. Not produced by the structure itself. And it didn’t feel exactly like witchcraft. But she wasn’t fluent in every strand of the craft. Brujas dominated Miami, with a small smattering of Veil and Salem witches. But there were dozens of practices, each forking from the same source but maintaining their own customs.
Hel turned on a camping lantern. Illuminated, she didn’t look how Zuri imagined. Even taller up close, Hel was giving Alexander Skarsgård and Hannah Waddingham had an intimidating baby. The scars on one cheek looked like she’d bested a fucking tiger in her first life. Windswept, short blonde hair and forearms so corded with muscle, Zuri would’ve believed she’d choked that tiger with her bare hands. She was fucking hot.
Next to her, Lib looked at Hel with an expression Zuri had never seen. Yearning. Had she been in Hel and lived to tell about it?
“Alright, let’s have it.” Hel propped her hands on her narrow hips.
Going for broke, Zuri spilled what they knew about the Aglion. She framed the facts in a way that didn’t give away Marisol’s direct association. That kept her identity hidden just in case.
When Zuri was finished, Hel turned her stormy blue eyes on each one of them in turn. The longer Hel stood silent, the more tension snaked up Zuri’s spine and coiled in her muscles. Hel was built like a fucking castle turret, but Zuri would drop her to her knees just the same if she took a step toward Bambi.
“You’ve seen this then?” Hel asked Librada.
Librada nodded.
Another agonizing silence, and then Hel turned on her heels with military precision and started for the back of the room. In a panty-dropping show of strength, Hel squatted to pick up a pallet stacked chest-high with bags and bags of soil like a fucking forklift. She carried it with the ease of bringing groceries in from the car and set it down with a dull thud on the stone floor.
Zuri and Marisol exchanged a shameless look that screamedfuck that’s hot. Behind them, Elena cleared her throat, signaling her disapproval. Zuri chuckled and for the briefest moment, it didn’t feel like death was imminent.
“A basement?” Elena stepped out as if blocking Zuri and Bambi’s view would change their appreciation of the view. “On a city floating over water?”
“It’s a crypt,” Lib explained as if seeing Hel’s plan. “But there’s no access from here.”
“A lot has changed since you were here last, Victor.” Hel lifted a trapdoor made of thick cement. “I’ll take you to Sabina. The rest of you can wait here and don’t move?—”
“No, please.” Marisol strode across to Hel. “I have to talk to her. If she knows?—”
“It’s bad enough I’m bringing one person outside The Order into a venerated place.” Her gaze flashed to Lib like she wished things were different. “You’re not even a vampire, luv.”
“So take me,” Elena offered.
Hel laughed like it was the most absurd suggestion. “Absolutely fucking not.”
“Maybe I’m looking to convert.” Elena sounded more like herself than she had in weeks. She moved with the ghost of a swagger when she slid one hand into the pocket of her trousers. “I’ve always been fond of Cleopatra.” Her pale lips eased into a lopsided smile Zuri almost believed. “All that brilliance and beauty. After everything that’s happened, I am seeking solace in the teachings of The Mother.”
Hel’s laughter deepened despite Elena’s serviceable acting. Maybe if they’d chosen that angle from the start—if they’d used Elena’s complete detachment from her former self to sell a conversion story. Too fucking late for that.
Zuri didn’t bother volunteering. She doubted Hel would go for a witch in vampire church, and she didn’t want to waste her patience.
“Please, Hel.” Marisol’s attention was laser-focused.
Bambi’s eyes were as wide and dripping with as much desperation as Zuri had ever seen. Zuri clenched her uselessfists. She wanted to bring Hel to her knees and torment her with nightmares until she relented, but they were at Hel’s mercy. Intimidation wouldn’t work.
“I’m the?—”
Librada cut off Marisol’s ill-considered confession before Zuri processed her words. “I trust her, Hel. With my very own life.” She swallowed, brows furrowed. “And yours.”
Hel’s pale eyebrows rose up her handsome face. Her gaze shifted between Marisol and Librada, as if trying to understand how they could have forged such trust. Zuri held her breath and willed Hel not to ask aloud. Willed her to believe in Lib’s judgment when her vote of confidence was nearly impossible to earn.
