Page 8

The damp night air wraps around us as we walk, leaves crunching furiously beneath our feet and a light layer of snow dusting the walkway. The occasional flicker of a streetlamp is the only sign of life as Lucian and I tread the narrow streets toward Petals and Potions to meet with Ravenna. The air smells faintly of rain and the dank earth, but there’s something else beneath it—a metallic tang that makes the hairs on my arms rise.

Lucian walks beside me, silent but on high alert. His head tilts slightly as if listening to something I can’t quite hear. His eyes narrow, scanning the shadows ahead.

“Lucian?” I ask, my voice breaking the stillness between us.

“Something’s wrong,” he says, his tone clipped. “Stay close.”

I do as he says, and his grip on my hand tightens. My heart thuds harder with each step. I can feel the tension rolling off him, a coiled energy that makes the space between us feel abundantly charged.

Then I hear it—a faint, wet, slopping sound, like something being torn apart.

“Lucian—”

“I hear it,” he says, his voice low and deep.

Before I can react, he moves. One second, he’s beside me, the next he’s a blur of motion ahead, his dark coat billowing behind him. I scramble to keep up—failing—my pulse racing as dread knots in my stomach.

When I finally round the corner after him, the scene before me steals all the air from my lungs.

A vampire looms over a young woman, his long fingers digging into her shoulders as its teeth sink into her neck. It’s feral. A gross display of extreme power. The vampire’s head twists and turns, like a dog with a chew toy, as he sucks her life from her body. Blood gleams like molten rubies under the flickering light of the nearest lamppost, pooling on the cracked pavement. The woman’s head lolls to the side, her breaths shallow and ragged, no longer able to yell or cry out for help.

The vampire is monstrous, all gangly legs, its features distorted as he drains the woman of her lifeforce. Scars lace its body, deep etches into his naked back. He’s in nothing but a pair of blood-soaked pants and shoes. Its eyes seem to glow and are much too large for its gaunt face, and its jagged fangs glisten with fresh blood as he moans into the night, drinking from the poor woman whose body goes limp.

Lucian’s voice cuts through the scene, sharp and commanding, more forceful than I’ve ever heard it before. “Let her go!”

The ragged vampire lifts its head, its lips peeling back in a terrifying snarl as the woman’s thick, bright blood drips from his fangs. The sound it makes is guttural, animalistic, and it sends a cold shiver down my spine.

“Get back, Sylvie,” Lucian says without looking at me, his body tense as a spring.

But I can’t move. My feet feel rooted to the ground, my eyes locked on the woman who’s barely clinging to life. My instincts are screaming to save her. Get to her and save her. But how?

The vampire hisses, crouching lower and cocking its head to the side, as if preparing to pounce.

Lucian doesn’t wait for the vampire to make a move. He’s on it in an instant, grabbing it by the throat and slamming it into the nearest wall. The impact cracks the brick, and for a moment, I think it’s over as its body temporarily slumps, falling to the ground.

But as quick as it went down, the vampire lashes out again, its long, talon-like nails raking across Lucian’s shoulder. He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he grips the creature tighter, his knuckles whitening as he bares his own fangs—looking dangerous and deadlier than I’ve ever seen him.

“Leave. Now,” he growls, his voice low and menacing, so deep it shakes me. “Or you’ll wish for a faster death.”

The feral vampire doesn’t heed the warning. With a guttural roar, it breaks free, throwing Lucian back a step and knocking him off-balance. The fight is a blur of motion—snarls, flashes of nails and fangs, the metallic tang of blood thick in the air.

The unruly vampire is strong, but Lucian is faster, more controlled, and stronger yet. He grabs the vampire by the arm, twisting until I hear the sickening snap of bone. He lets go and the arm dangles limply at its side.

“Run!” Lucian snarls at me, but his tone is sharp with command, not fear.

I force myself to move, darting toward the fallen woman, as opposed to the shop like I’m sure Lucian was intending. Her pulse is faint, her skin pale and clammy, beads of sweat rolling down her forehead and landing in her long lashes. I press my hands to the wound on her neck, trying to stanch the flow of blood, but it’s no use.

Behind me, the vampire lets out a long, ravenous wail, and I risk a glance over my shoulder. Lucian has it pinned, his fangs bared as if he’s about to finish it off. But then, the creature locks eyes with him, and something shifts.

Fear.

The vampire flips like a switch and kicks out, catching Lucian in the stomach. It uses the momentary distraction to twist free and dart into the shadows, its movements erratic but impossibly fast.

“Damn it!” Lucian mutters, his voice low and full of disappointment.

He doesn’t chase after it. Instead, he turns back to me, his expression hard.

“Is she?—?”

“She’s alive,” I say quickly, though the words feel fragile.

Lucian kneels beside me, his presence grounding me even as my hands tremble against the woman’s pale skin. Blood pools beneath her on the cracked pavement, glistening like spilled ink in the dim light.

“She’s fading quickly,” I whisper, panic tightening my chest. “I can try to heal her, like I helped you in the chamber.”

Lucian doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he shrugs off his coat and rolls up his sleeve, exposing the pale skin of his corded forearm. His movements are steady, deliberate, as though he’s done this before.

“Lucian, what are you?—”

“Sylvie, please.” His voice is calm, but there’s a raw edge beneath it. “Stay back.”

I don’t move. I can’t. I watch, frozen, as he rips into his skin using his fangs to puncture two small holes and brings his wrist to the woman’s chapped lips.

“Drink,” he murmurs, his voice low and coaxing. There’s something so intoxicating about the way he says that one word, and I have to bat away the feeling growing inside of me.

Her lips part slightly on instinct, her eyes fluttering open just enough to meet his. They’re unfocused, glassy with pain and fear, but his voice seems to cut through it all—reaching her just in time. She obeys, her mouth clamping down on his wrist with an instinctive desperation.

The sight should terrify me—it does terrify me—but I can’t look away. There’s something strangely intimate about the way Lucian cradles her, his hand supporting the back of her neck while she drinks. His face remains impassive, though his jaw tightens, and his breathing grows shallow.

She becomes almost…greedy. Latching onto his wrist with her hands and drinking furiously from his vein, life coming back into her eyes.

A quiet groan escapes him, so soft I almost miss it. His fangs elongate as his eyes latch onto the blood dripping down her neck, from where the other vampire left off. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if he’ll lose control. If he’ll succumb to the darkness inside of him.

“Lucian,” I say, my voice barely audible.

As if I’ve pulled him from a trance, his eyes snap to mine, glowing faintly with that eerie vampiric sheen. But instead of the hunger I fear, there’s resolve. He takes a slow, steadying breath, his free hand gripping the pavement until his knuckles blanch.

“She’s had enough,” he says, his voice rough. He gently pulls his wrist away from her mouth, a thin line of blood smearing her lips.

Her breathing is stronger now, her complexion no longer ghostly pale. I can see the difference immediately, as though life is returning to her in waves.

Lucian wipes his wrist clean, the wound closing almost instantly, and leans close to the woman’s face.

“Look at me,” he says to the still immobile woman, his tone soft but commanding. He grips her chin in his hand and tilts it upward so she can meet his gaze.

Her eyes flutter open again as his blood drips down her chin, gaze locking onto his. The shift in her expression is instantaneous—her fear dissolves and is replaced by a serene blankness in her icy blue orbs.

“You’re safe,” Lucian says, his words deliberate and measured. “You walked home tonight and fell asleep. You won’t remember me, or the vampire who hurt you. None of this ever happened. You were never here. Neither was I. Do you understand?”

She nods slowly, her head tilting slightly as though mesmerized as she looks at Lucian.

It’s hypnotic to watch him work. His voice is like smooth velvet, wrapping around her mind and molding—shaping—her reality. It’s subtle and unnervingly elegant. Even though I know what he’s doing, part of me feels drawn to it too, as if his words could pull me into that same calm nothingness.

Lucian straightens, brushing a strand of blood-matted hair from her face. “Go home,” he says softly.

She rises shakily to her feet, her movements dull but purposeful. She looks like she’s an extra in a horror film, her shirt shredded, her own blood drying on her neck. Without a word, she begins to walk away, disappearing into the shadows.

I can only hope she gets home safely this time.

The silence that follows feels heavy, the kind that demands acknowledgment that I don’t know how to give.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

Lucian exhales slowly, his fangs retracting as he wipes a hand across his face. “She didn’t deserve to die like that,” he says, his tone unreadable. Then, softer, “No one does.”

* * *

The bell above the door rings as Lucian and I step into Petals and Potions, but Ravenna is already watching us, her keen eyes immediately assessing the tension we’ve brought with us. The soft glow of the candles lining the shelves flickers, casting long shadows that seem to make the small, cozy apothecary even more intimate, like we’re stepping into a world of secrets.

She doesn't even need to ask—she can feel it. The shift in the air, the unease radiating from us, especially from Lucian. Her expression tightens when she sees him, his clothes rumpled, his face drawn with exhaustion, his posture defensive.

Without missing a beat, Ravenna glances over at me, then to Lucian. "Come to the back," she says, her voice commanding yet gentle. “You can wash up here,” she says, pointing to a small room as she looks at my blood-stained hands.

Once we’re as clean as possible without changing our clothes, she leads us through the shop, her movements graceful and precise. The soft click of the door closing behind us marks the shift from the bustling world outside to the quiet, almost sacred space of her private back room.

The familiar scent of herbs and potions fills the air. Ravenna pulls a chair out for Lucian, then gestures for me to sit beside him. The moment we’re settled, she turns her gaze on him again, her eyes softening with familiarity.

Lucian settles into the chair Ravenna pulled out for him, the tension in his shoulders never quite dissipating. She stands across from him, arms folded. “You’ve looked better,” she says, her voice softer now. “What happened this time?”

He exhales a quiet laugh, brushing a hand through his hair. “The usual chaos. But I’m sure you’ve already guessed that.”

Her lips curl faintly, though the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “You always did have a knack for finding trouble.” She glances at me briefly, then back to Lucian. “And for dragging others into it.”

I clear my throat, feeling the weight of her words. “You two seem like old friends,” I say. “I mean, I know you’ve mentioned knowing each other, but how exactly?” I ask, just genuinely curious.

Lucian leans back in his chair, a tired but amused smile pulling at his lips. “Ravenna and I go back a long way. She saved my life once—or maybe twice. She has a habit of keeping score, though she’d never admit it.”

Ravenna arches an eyebrow, a wry smile playing on her lips. “Someone had to keep you in line. The first time we met, you were bleeding out in my shop after a fight with—what was it?—a demon or a rogue vampire? I can’t keep track anymore.”

“Demon,” Lucian replies with a smirk. “And I didn’t ask for your help.”

“You didn’t have to,” Ravenna retorts, her voice edged with fondness. “You were practically begging for it, whether you realized it or not.” She looks at me, her expression softening. “He likes to downplay it, but Lucian has a knack for biting off more than he can chew. I’ve patched him up more times than I can count.”

“And yet you still let me through the door,” Lucian counters, his tone light.

Ravenna shakes her head, but there’s no malice in the gesture. “Because you’ve helped me just as often, dear, even if it wasn’t always graceful. You’ve pulled me out of more than a few fires—literally.”

Lucian shrugs, his smile fading slightly. “I believe that’s what friends do.”

The weight of the unspoken history between them lingers in the air, heavy with memories I can’t begin to imagine. There’s a bond here—one forged in fire, blood, and survival, if I had to guess.

Ravenna turns to me, her expression serious now. “Lucian may be infuriating, but he’s loyal. When he trusts someone, he’s all in. That’s not a trait you find often, especially in this world.”

“Don’t make me sound too noble,” Lucian says with a faint grin. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”

"Well let’s get down to business then,” she says. “I knew you two were coming tonight but I wasn’t aware it would be under dire circumstances; I thought we were just having a meeting about something simple—like humanity.” She chuckles, and even though this isn’t a light conversation, it makes me feel better. “However, you aren’t well,” she says, though it’s clear she’s already seen past the surface. Her gaze moves over Lucian, lingering on his bruised knuckles, though they are already healing, and the visible exhaustion weighing on him.

Lucian sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Not exactly," he mutters. "It’s been a long night."

Ravenna’s sharp eyes narrow with concern. "That much is clear,” she says softly, crossing her arms over her chest. "What happened?"

Lucian glances at me for a moment, before turning back to her. "Factions are at war. The Solstice Society has stolen blood packs—the packs our faction survives on. They’re preparing for something, but I don’t know what—aside from our total extinction. Vampires are already getting hungry…too hungry. Desperate. They aren’t used to going without. I had to stop an attack in the alley tonight—hence the blood.” He looks down at himself. “One of the Unbound."

Ravenna’s eyes flicker with a brief flash of recognition as she absorbs his words. Then, she lets out a small, almost inaudible sigh, her demeanor softening. She stands and moves toward the counter and grabs a glass of water, setting it in front of him. "And you’re still standing, I see," she says, her voice laced with a quiet admiration. "You’ve always been more resilient than most.”

He offers a tired but genuine smile, his expression lightening for a moment at her words. "That’s kind of you, Ravenna. But I think I’m pushing the limits of even my patience tonight."

Ravenna chuckles softly, the warmth of the moment settling between them. "I’ve seen the best of you, Lucian. There’s more to you than just the darkness."

Her words hang in the air for a beat, a mutual respect between them that neither of them have to voice, but that I can feel. It’s an unexpected softness between two beings who should, by all rights, be at odds. Though, when I told Lucian about starting work here, he was transparent about knowing Ravenna. He told me they’ve known each other for decades. That she’s always been kind to him, even when others in her circle weren’t.

I clear my throat, the silence growing too long.

“Well, now that we have all of that out of the way," I say softly, trying to break the tension. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me off the clock about this. I’m at a standstill with the Lara situation, and I don’t know where to turn." I shrug as my face falls, unable to contain my emotions for a second longer. Part of me thinks I could break down and start bawling at any moment—the other doesn’t know if I have it in me.

Ravenna’s gaze softens, her expression shifting from playful to serious in an instant. "I’ve been thinking a lot about this ordeal, dear,” she says, her eyes shifting from me to Lucian—then back again. “You’re carrying too much for someone so new to all of this.” A grim expression crosses her face. “I want to help you, and I’ve spoken to others who are willing as well. I just want to make sure this is the best choice for you as well.”

I nod, trying to hold back the rush of emotion that her words bring. "I trust you," I say, my voice steady but tinged with desperation. "And I also trust myself and what I’m capable of, too. The best choice for me is to get Lara’s humanity back. I can’t... I can’t lose her. Not for good. I have to cling on to some hope that we can get her back."

Ravenna tilts her head, her eyes thoughtful as she studies me. "Restoring a soul is no small feat, Sylvie; I know I’ve explained that much. It’s not something that can be done without great consequence. We’re playing with fate, with life, with the order of things."

I lean forward, desperate. "But there is a way. You can help me, I know you can."

Her lips curl slightly into a knowing smile, but her eyes remain serious. "There is one option. One ancient ritual that I’ve heard of, but it has... it has both worked and failed in the past. I can take you through the steps in time, but it won’t be easy. And the results are incredibly unpredictable."

I clench my fists in my lap. "I’ll do anything. If there’s even a chance…" I trail off.

“Very well,” she says. “We will move forward with setting up a meeting with my elders. I can’t guarantee anything, dear. But I can commit to helping you in any way I can—regardless of the outcome.”

I thank her profusely and reach over to give her a hug.

Lucian speaks then, his voice a low rumble, the weight of his exhaustion clear in his tone. "Not to interrupt your planning, but Ravenna, is there a way you can help with the blood shortage? Potions, or something? Anything at all? I will be indebted to you, of course."

Ravenna looks at him, considering his words. "You’ve always been resourceful," she says, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "And I’ve seen you push the boundaries of what’s possible. I might be able to brew something to help with the blood shortage for the time being, but it won’t be enough for long-term survival. Potions are a stopgap solution, nothing more." A wary look crosses her face. “But anything is better than if we start having a string of violent Unbound outbursts—or worse, if your faction starts going feral, too. Or even the high and mighty Ascendancy. I wish the three of you would learn to work together. You’d be so powerful if you were all on the same team for once.”

Lucian’s gaze darkens slightly, but he nods in understanding. "I know. Believe me, Dorian and I have tried. It’s like there is no getting through to them.” He hangs his head before adding, “And as far as the blood and your short-term solution…anything will help.”

Ravenna steps toward her shelves, moving with the practiced grace of someone who has seen more than their fair share of hardship—and who has helped more people than I’ve probably even encountered in my lifetime, judging by what Rebecca, Nicole, and Lucian have all said about her. "I’ll prepare something for you,” she says, grabbing a few herbs off the shelf. “Also, while I’m thinking about the meeting with the elders, Sylvie…” she trails off as she gathers things. “I suppose there isn’t much I can do to prepare you prior to the meeting. But like I’ve said, this won’t be a simple incantation." She brings the herbs back to the table and sets them down.

I swallow hard, my throat tight. "How will it work when we meet with them?”

Ravenna gives me a long, measured look, then pulls down an ancient-looking book from the shelf. "I’ll set up the meeting with the elders of the Witch’s Guild. We’ll go, and along with me, they’ll guide you through the process and help you prepare for the incantation. You’ll need training, Sylvie. The ritual requires more than just intent. You’ll need control and understanding of the magic involved. You’ve come into some of your abilities on your own, using your emotions, but this is much bigger than any of that."

I nod, already feeling the weight of what lies ahead. "But they can help me?”

"They’ll test you first," Ravenna says softly, her voice almost a whisper. "But they’ll help. I can guide you, but it’s the Guild’s knowledge and expertise that will get you where you need to go."

I glance at Lucian, seeing the tiredness in his eyes. "What do you think?"

He looks at me, his gaze intense but comforting. "I whole-heartedly trust Ravenna. If anyone can help you get Lara back, it’s her. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up." His lips turn down and I reach my hand out. He places his palm over mine and squeezes gently.

Ravenna places the book down, her fingers brushing against the pages lightly. "We’ll start soon. I promise. I’ll let you know when I have confirmation of a meeting time, and I’ll be sure to go with you,” she says with a kind smile. “Now, next order of business. Let me get Lucian’s blood remedy prepared. We can’t afford to waste any time if it is as dire as you suggest."

She begins to mix her potions and herbs, speaking in a different language as she mixes. I’m impressed with the fluidity of her movements.

A few minutes later, once Ravenna seems to be nearly finished, Lucian’s quiet voice breaks the moment. "Thank you, Ravenna. For everything."

Ravenna looks up and smiles, but it’s not a smile I’ve seen on her before—there’s something more gentle in it now, something that speaks to the quiet bond between them, built over years of mutual respect. "You’ve always been a friend, Lucian. That’s something rare in this world."

Her words hang in the air, a bond of friendship and trust between them that I envy. I can tell it’s platonic, and it makes me feel good that he has a friend like her. I watch as Lucian nods, his gratitude unspoken but clear. Ravenna’s calm presence is exactly what we need right now, and I feel a flicker of hope. Perhaps this ritual will be the answer we’ve been searching for.

“Call Dorian and tell him to meet me at the back door in an hour or so. He can transport the blood from here, and I’ll be sure to do a spell to make sure if anyone is tracking him, they are thrown off. We don’t want your new supply to go to waste,” she says. “Now, you two kids get on home. I do believe someone has a shift in the morning.” She winks at me, and a light-hearted feeling encompasses the space between us.

I feel like I could get used to having witch abilities—especially when Ravenna is in the picture.