Page 2 of The Child of Rue Royale
“Just hold it.” I pulled out a piece of muslin and scissors, then haphazardly cut it into a heart shape large enough to cover the wounds. I placed it over the oozing holes along her chest, making sure every bite was covered.
Carefully, I took the candle from Cassius’s hand, ensuring not to touch his skin again. The melted wax pooled at the top of the candle, the healing magic bubbling, waiting to be released. Gently, so very gently, I dropped small circles of wax around the heart shape. Cassius’s breathing was heavy and warm against my cheek, and it felt like I was breathing in his anxiety.
Telling someone to calm down when they are a wreck never helps, so I pushed him out of my mind and focused on the spell at hand, dripping the wax until the heart was sealed to her chest. She would have minor welts from the wax, but she would be alive.
“You can do it,” Cassius whispered. “You can do this.”
With every ounce of confidence I could muster, I met his gaze and said, “I will.”
Raising a palm to my mouth, I ran my tongue from wrist to fingertips, then sprawled my hands over the wound. Time was running out; her breathing became slighter and slighter, and I needed to get the blood pumping back through her system. I’m no doctor, Bastian. But I have magic on my side, magic that knew exactly what to heal inside her body in order to save her. The groundwork was set.
“Sana vulnus! Sana sanguinem!” I shouted. Electricity crackled at the ends of my fingers, collecting from my palms to the pointy tips of my nails. Power molded around my entire hands, and I placed them over the muslin heart, over the flesh that surrounded it, demanding the wounds be healed.
“Sana vulnus! Sana sanguinem!” I focused on her, her heartbeat, her blood pumping through her veins. I didn’t look at my surroundings, not Cassius’s face paralyzed from panic, not Amerie hovering over me with bated breath. I pushed the magic from my fingers, that lightheadedness I feel when the magic is working tickled my brain, pushed down my spine, and infiltrated my rib cage. There was a tightening in my core, which told me I was on the right track.
As the last words left my lips, it began. First, it was the pink returning to her cheeks, then a sharp intake of air filling her lungs. This magic was fast and furious, and I could see she was immediately out of the woods, her life had returned to her, and she was healing from the inside out.
Her eyes flit open—the lightest shade of brown, like a fresh batch of caramel. No wonder Cassius is smitten, Bastian. She is a wonder.
He scooped his girl into his arms so swiftly, a gasp escaped her lips.
“Ma petite cherie,” he sighed, and it was like a dagger to my aorta because I miss you so much.
There’s a hole inside me now, a hole where you used to be. How you held me, whispered in my ear. Those thoughts swirled in my mind at that very moment, and that’s when I started to sway. That kind of magic takes a toll on the body, and the emotions mixed with the spell forced me to close my eyes and take slow, deep breaths.
A hand steadied me, and I opened my eyes to meet Cassius examining me. It hit me why I’ve stayed away from them, and a range of emotion swept through my bones. They remind me of you. And they blame me for your death. I blame myself too. I’m too prideful to grovel, to beg them to forgive me. They don’t want myapologies, and they don’t want my gratitude. Neither will bring you back. Only I can do that.
Cassius looked at my belly, mostly flat to the naked eye, no signs of the life growing inside. But I knew he could hear the heartbeat, I knew it meant something to him, I’m just not sure what. His gaze swept back and forth from me and his little rosebud, his love. A young woman, not a witch nor a vampire—a human that could never understand such a complex existence, a woman that would always be in danger.
I yanked my arm from his grasp as anger filled my veins. Angry that he treated me like a stranger the last few months, angry he only called when he needed something. I gathered my balance, and he looked back to her, whispering words into her ear that I couldn’t hear, nor did I want to.
That’s why—and you might not like this part, but I couldn’t help myself—I yearned to warn her. Now I realize it was a mixture of fury and jealousy, and I could come to regret it, but I had to say something. But based upon the lovesick look in her eyes, my words would make no difference.
I leaned down, slipping my pointer finger under the heart attached to her skin by wax, and pulled it off. She looked down at her chest and back up to me, her eyes filling with tears. And then I heard Cassius.
“Thank you, Aster. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my forsaken heart.”
Instead of saying the proper and polite thing, I leaned in, placed my mouth next to the girl’s ear, and whispered so lightly. “Ma petite cherie, run for your life.” Always the spiteful witch, I know. And believe I regret uttering those words now, I do.
Her eyes flickered, surely still in pain yet so entranced by me, so I squeezed her arm, hoping she would heed my warning.
Instead, she pulled her arm from my grasp and brought her hand up to stroke his face, and at that, his head fell to her stomach, and there he wept as her arms encircled him.
So, I rose. He looked up at me, mouth opening to speak, inspecting me up and down as I pulled my coat tighter around myself, smoothing out my dress while I eyed him sternly.
Vampires gathered around me; some I recognized, some I didn’t. I had to get out of there—I did what I went to do. Pulling the hood over my head, I made it through the door, and then I saw her—Nicola running up the stairs, and a look of shared grief passed between us. She stormed past me, once again ignoring my existence and I just stood there. Just stood there to take in all that transpired in those ten minutes. I could’ve cried from the pain of losing you, from beingin the vampire den where I almost died a few months ago. But something else hit me, something surprising.
And I laughed.
A smile formed on my lips as I took each step carefully. That overwhelming feeling of hope invaded my body, and my heart fluttered at my abilities, at my control of our future. Because my magic had just saved a woman’s life, and I became even more confident it would bring back yours.
Four Months Later
MUCH IS POSSIBLE IN Aworld where magic exists. My child, bringing Bastian back, happiness…all possible. And there will be consequences for this happiness, but that is true with every action.
My moods ebb and flow, hopeful in one moment, crushed in another. I hold on to my belly, my baby. The daughter I thought I didn’t want, wasn’t ready for, growing steadily, teaching me that we don’t always know what we want or need. And now, Ineedher. I need her more than anything, my little blossom, my purpose. Witches can only birth daughters, and I’ve found myself fantasizing about teaching her everything I know about our craft.
Seven months without Bastian, eight months pregnant, and if he only knew what we created before he left me. God, I wish he knew. Yet I hold a vision in my mind, one of him walking with her, holding her hand, his eyes meeting mine with marvel at what we created. All in good time, my love.
