Page 38 of Blood & Bedlam

Is everything all right? It’s a gentle pressure, enough to caress against my mind, and it brings a reluctant smile to my lips as I tamper down on my emotions and send as much calm as I can back.

Fine. Question—is it possible for your eyes to bleed out from squinting? I can hardly read some of these, they’re so old.

A burst of what I can feel is laughter hits me back.

Careful now. I’m older than some of them.

“He’s just worried about you.” Hecate smirks, her pearly teeth shining bright. I squirm just a little at how easily she reads me.

“He’s got enough on his mind.” I reach back down to grab the large blue, leather-bound book that shows what would be my family tree from my past life.

“It doesn’t matter what’s happening in the world around him. You’ve always been at the front of Vladi’s mind, Reine,” Hecate says gently, but there’s something about the way she says the nickname that pricks at my skin.

“Vladi. I’ve never heard anyone else call him that. Were you close?” I try and fail to keep the bite from my tone. It’s not my business if they have a past. I guess.

Even still, the unwillingness of Hecate to meet my eye is telling. Her cheeks flush a little redder than before.

“Ah. I see.”

“It was a long time ago!” she blurts, causing the already awkward tension in the room to intensify.

“Yeah, well, so were we, apparently.” The twist of jealousy and possession is so incredibly unlike me, or how I’ve been with lovers before, that it takes me aback. I’ve got no right, but I’m pissed anyway. He’s mine—he’s always been mine.

Vlad presses harder, asking what’s wrong. I shut him out, imagining a vault locking between us, just like Hecate, ironically, taught me how to do.

“Reine, it’s not like that. Even when it was … it wasn’t. It wasn’t like it was for you. He never stopped loving you. Trust me, I know it.” There’s a twinge of sadness to her voice that makes me bristle. I snap the book shut and give her my full attention.

“I know it’s not right that I’m pissed off, but I can’t help that I am. I gave my life for him, for fuck’s sake. How long did he wait until he crawled into bed with someone else, hmm?” I can hear my voice rising to hysterics, the static in the air charged, but I can’t stop the flood of emotions from breaking through, or the realization that they’re mine, just not from this lifetime.

“A hundred and eleven years.”

The sound of Vladimir’s voice has my head snapping to the door of his study. He’s stoic, but breathing hard, with a cut over his eye, his knuckles bruised and bloody from training.

Hecate looks between us, then rises to her feet in the most infuriatingly graceful display of athleticism I’ve ever seen, which only pisses me off more. My nose stings as pressure builds behind my eyes. I feel petty and humiliated and everything about this sucks.

“I’m going to go find Hermes. You two should talk. We could use a break,” she says, and I hate the knowing look they share. I hate that there’s familiarity between them at all. Vladimir steps aside to let her pass, careful, I notice, not to touch her in any way.

Smart man.

We stare at each other for so long I feel like my lungs may explode.

“Tell me what you need.” His words are strangled, low, apologetic. He can feel my hurt and he’s recognizing it, even if we both know it’s unwarranted. I bring my hands to my hips and shrug my shoulders as hot tears leak down my cheeks.

“I don’t know. I know it’s not fair, but fuck, she’s so beautiful, Vladimir. She’s a goddess, I found out today, as if being a witch wasn’t badass enough. It’s just really hard because I know that me, Reine, I haven’t known you for long enough to feel this kind of hurt but there’s an older part of me who does. We’ve been delving into that part, pulling her to the front of me, and I think I’m struggling to reconcile the then and now. And now I’m embarrassing myself in front of not only your ex, but a literal fucking goddess, who is honestly so amazing, and this just fucking sucks.”

He takes a step toward me, but I match it, pushing back.

“Don’t. I don’t, I don’t … I died for you!” The rage comes hot and heavy, exploding from my chest. It’s a grief that both belongs and doesn’t belong to me.

“I know. I’m sorry.” His words drop between us, and I can see he isn’t desperate to quell my anger. He’s desperate to stop my pain, the very same pain that’s leeching from me with every tear. It’s that realization that breaks me, pushing my body back against his desk. He doesn’t wait for my permission before he’s on me, cradling my body to his, holding me up while I cry. His lips find my hair, pressing kisses and reassurances against my skull, his hands firm and strong and holding me upright as I claw at his shirt.

He smells like sweat and blood, and now salty with my tears, and I don’t know how to stop the tidal wave consuming me.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Anything you want to know. Please, mele stea, believe me. I died every day for you. I tried everything, after I turned, to join you in the afterlife. None of it worked.”

His words are like a siren to my soul, and I push his body back in alarm, searching his face.

“You did what?” Shock and horror overtake my senses as the weight of his words threatens to crush me. Vladimir’s hands brush back my hair, smooth over my shoulders, soothing me as he nods.