Page 56 of Bitten & Burned

Twenty-Eight

NOX

Dun Drummond, Sol, Verdune

Pain.

Not sharp. Not clean. But everywhere.

My body felt too large for itself. My skin felt too tight. My blood was rushing too loudly. I couldn’t tell where the sigil ended and I began.

I gasped, or tried to. The air clawed its way into my lungs, thick and sour.

I was lying on something hard—smooth stone, I thought. A thin blanket was laid beneath me. My coat was gone. My gloves. My bag. My rings.

And the moment I tried to sit up, the pain flared again, sharp and immediate, blazing across my thigh like a brand pressed fresh to skin.

I choked on a sob. And that’s when I felt it.

I reached for my neck.

The chain was there.

My fingers closed around it before my mind could catch up.

The amulet. It was lying hot against my collarbone. Too warm to be from body heat alone.

I had brought it with me. He’d found it in my bag.

He’d taken it back.

No—

I’d played right into his hands.

I forced my eyes open.

The light in the room was gray, filtered through narrow tower windows covered in enchanted glass. Mist pressed up against the panes. The walls were stone, smooth and bare. A heavy iron-banded door stood across the room, sealed shut.

There were no visible locks.

I tried to move and had to bite my tongue not to scream as I did. There was no way. I couldn’t stand. I couldn’t crawl. I couldn’t drag myself.

It didn’t matter that the door wasn’t locked. I wasn’t getting out.

Not without help.

I stared miserably at the window. The gray light was still there. That meant… fuck, my brain was so foggy, I couldn’t figure out what time it was. It was still daytime. Which meant Quil didn’t even know where I was.

No way to track me. No way out.

I couldn’t cry. At least, I didn’t think I could. Or maybe I already was.

The door creaked open, the sound grating and painful.

I didn’t bother turning my head. I couldn’t. But I knew it was him. The click of his boots on stone gave him away. The steps were unhurried and confident.

Silas made it halfway across the room before speaking.

“I was beginning to worry the spell would hold too long. But look at you—still fighting. Always so stubborn.”

I made a sound—more breath than voice.

With a quiet hum, he crouched beside me. I couldn’t see him clearly from this angle, but I could feel him watching me. I could feel the weight of his gaze. Not hungry nor cruel.

Worse.

Patient.

Silas reached into his coat pocket and pulled something small and shimmering. A rune-marked stone. He rolled it between his fingers and murmured a soft phrase—just two syllables, spoken like a lover’s name. “Impresor Nox.”

The pain eased.

Not gone. But dialed down. Enough that I could breathe. Enough that I could move my fingers.

I coughed hard, the effort stealing what little air I had left.

“There we are,” he said softly. “You’ll find I’m quite reasonable, Rowena. I don’t wish to torture you. And I won’t, so long as you, too, are reasonable. To do otherwise would be… distasteful. Cruelty for cruelty’s sake has never been my style.”

He paused.

“I’m here to give you time.”

My voice scraped out of me like rust peeling off iron. “Time for what?”

“To think. To rest. To heal, if you like.” He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his coat.

“All I ask is that you sit with the truth for a while. Really feel it. Those vampires you’re so devoted to?

They’ll move on. Or they’ll destroy each other.

They’re animals, Rowena. Not humans. They don’t love you, and never will. Not like I love you.”

I clenched my fists.

He didn’t notice. Or pretended not to.

“When you’re ready to see sense,” he added, glancing at the door, “all you have to do is say it.”

“Say what?” I whispered.

He smiled again, smug and serene in the way it frustrated me. “That you choose me.”

I snorted derisively, almost laughed in his face. “You torment me so I’ll choose you? I’d rather you throw me to the Ashbornes.”

He tutted, shaking his head. “So crass, so unreasonable. I’ll fix that too. So, do you?”

“What?” I asked.

“Choose me?”

“Fuck no,” I hissed, spitting at him.

He tapped the stone once more, and the pain surged back like a tide. I arched off the floor with a cry.

“I’ll be back tomorrow. Maybe a night like this will cure you. Or maybe I’ll give you what you want and let those addicted mongrels have you first. Either way, you’ll choose me, Rowena.”

Then he left.

The door closed behind him with a quiet click.

And I screamed.

The silence that followed was the worst part. Not the pain—not even the fear.

It was… nothing.

No footsteps. No voices. No wind against the windowpanes.

Just the sound of my own ragged breath. The pulse of agony was flickering low and hot in my thigh. The weight of helplessness was curling tighter and tighter around my chest.

I bit down on the second scream building in my throat and turned my face to the cold stone. If I screamed again, I knew it wouldn’t stop. I would become something feral, and I needed to hold on to what scraps of dignity—and sanity—I still had.

But gods, I needed someone.

Not anyone.

“Quil,” I rasped, barely more than a breath.

My lips trembled. The ache in my throat threatened to close again, but I forced the words through cracked lips.

“Quil…”

It wasn’t a plea.

Not really.

Not yet.

But it was a tether. A desperate, whispered thread cast out into the darkness, hoping he’d feel it. Hoping he’d hear it. Through the bond.

Even from miles away. I hadn’t felt the others, not since I woke up. But I hoped against hope that was just on my end. That they could tell I was in trouble.

That they’d come.

QUIL

THUMP THUMP THUMP.

Someone was pounding on my head.

“Fucking stop…” I swiped my hand to knock them back, but met nothing but air.

“Is someone at the door?” Vael mumbled.

I frowned, sat up, and looked around. Pitch black. Where was I?

THUMP THUMP THUMP

“ROWENA?!”

I blinked. Right, right. I was in Rowena’s apartment. In her bed. With Vael. She was here.

Wasn’t she?

THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMPTHUMPTHUMP.

“ROWENAAA?!?1”

“Gods, get the blasted door,” Vael grumbled.

I got out of bed, shuffled to where I was pretty sure the door was, and opened it. Twilight seeped in through the windows, and Fig slipped in, began winding around my feet, yowling incessantly.

I stumbled to the front door and opened it, rubbing my eyes.

There, on the other side, stood a woman. Pink hair. Soft curves. Taller than Rowena, but still shorter than me.

“Oh!” She took a step back. “Sorry… I thought this was Rowena Marlowe’s apartment. I must be on the wrong floor… gods, I’m so sorry!”

“No, you got it right, it’s Rowena’s apartment,” I said, sniffing. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I could ask you the same,” she said haughtily, looking me up and down.

I groaned and sighed. “Sorry, I’m not great when I first wake up. I’m Quil. Ashborne, one of Rowena’s...”

“OH, you’re one of her vampire boys!”

I frowned. “What?”

“She has five of you, right? I’ve only met Vael. Well, to be fair, when I met Vael, there was only Vael, and I only just heard about you all in one of the letters she sent, so, I mean…”

“Who are you, again?” I asked again.

“Sorry, I’m Thalia. Wyrmwood. Old friend of Rowena’s?”

“Right, right. Thalia. You sent her letters.”

“Right… um… is she here?”

“Thalia?” came a groggy voice from behind me.

“Vael! There you are. Tell me Rowena’s with you!”

“She should be…” I glanced back in, Fig meowing over and over, running to his empty food dish and back again, no Rowena in sight. “Shit, no… she must still be at Blackthorn. She said she was going there today.”

“I was just there, and she was gone. They said she hadn’t been there since before lunch.”

“What?” I blinked and stood back. “Come in… I…”

“She had these books on her desk, do you think these had anything to do with—”

She handed over the stack of metallurgy books in her hands. I recognized them from the list her father had given her. “No, I don’t think so, these are just books her dad wanted her to read…” I rubbed my hands over my face. “You said she hadn’t been there since lunch?”

“Before… she sent a Pulse and asked me to meet her there for lunch. I got there at one, and her assistant said she was gone.”

I shook my head, slumping into a chair, head in my hands. “This makes no sense… I—”

It hit me like I’d been shot. Arrow through my eye. Pain and wrongness. Electric charge. Something was off with the bond.

“Fuck…”

“By Camarae’s shadow…” Vael gasped. “Rowena!”

Heart pounding. Mouth dry. Blood roaring in my ears so loud it drowned everything else.

Something was wrong.

Not wrong—gone.

The bond wasn’t gone, not exactly. But it had dulled. Muted. Like a candle about to be snuffed under glass.

I stood up too fast and nearly fell, tripping over the coffee table. My chest ached. My hands were shaking.

“What? What is it?” Thalia was still here. Looking at me like I’d gone nuts. Maybe I had.

Vael tried to explain, but the feeling was affecting both of us. “It’s… something wrong with the bond.”

“You can… feel that?”

“Yes, in vampiric blood bonds, there are—I don’t have time to explain, but yes. I can tell. Something’s wrong. Something happened… she’s faint… she’s…” Vael trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

“No,” I said, breath catching. “No, no, no, come on, sweetheart. Don’t do this.”

I closed my eyes, and that’s when I felt it. Just a flicker. A spark of her pain. Not her voice, not a word. Just raw need. A thread of it. Thin and strangled and buried so deep I could barely touch it.

But it was her.

Gods, it was her.

And she was hurting.

She was calling me.

Not with words. Not even with the bond. Not exactly. But I felt it, thrumming under my skin, pulling on every fraying nerve I had left.

I didn’t even think. I moved.

Boots. Shirt. Weapons.

“Wait, what are you doing? Where are you going?” Thalia asked, following me around the apartment like a stray dog.

“To find her. To save her,” I bit out.

“Where is she?” Vael asked.

“Where do you think?” I bit out. “I don’t know for sure, but my money’s on Drummond.”

“I’m coming with you,” Vael insisted.

He’d slow me down. I knew he loved her, too, but I had to run. I couldn’t keep a slower pace for him.

“No, Vael. Stay here. With Thalia. And Fig. Send word to the others. At Halemont. As quickly as you can… rent a homing bird or—”

Thalia interrupted. “I have a homing bird. I’ll send whatever you need. What do I say?”

“I’ll compose a message,” Vael said. “Go, Quil. Go save her. Please.”

Thalia was nodding, and I was bolting out of the apartment. I shut the door, but I didn’t bother with the damned lift; I took the stairs, all the way down to the ground floor. I hopped over a railing, scaring the shit out of one of Rowena’s neighbors, but I couldn’t stop. I had to keep moving.

I burst out onto the street and sniffed the air. The scent was faint. But it was there. Sickly sweet on top of that scent that was undeniably her. Floral. Tart. Spice.

Rowena.

Even in the city, I could still pick her out.

I could still find what was mine.

Rowena was mine.

And I was going to find her.