Page 13 of Blood Ties (City of Blood #1)

Elina

“Why do you keep saying that? Or calling me that? What does ‘tesoro mio’ even mean?”

“Next, we’ll be making a quick stop at Nocturne Noir, a little shop for all your magical needs.

” His voice is playful and full of excitement.

“There is magic in the soil of Ville de Sang and you seem a little short on protection.” He opens my door with a bit of a flourish and bundles me inside.

I giggle despite myself as he makes his way to his side of the car.

Parking his stupid flashy sports car at the end of Pirate’s Alley, Bash helps me from the car yet again.

Unlike at the cemetery, there are people, or rather vamps, all over the place here—having conversations and laughing, drinking, playing games like football, and relaxing on the stairs of the cathedral.

Almost as though, this is when they relax.

Bash catches me watching them and leans down to whisper–

“You’re trapped inside on Sundays—Sundays are the only day we can relax without the stress of humanity. We don’t have to think about the fragility of humans or endangering them. We don’t need to defend them from baby vampires or be tempted by their blood. We simply exist.”

Makes sense, I guess. We attract some looks—and some outright stares—as we walk down the alley toward the shop.

“Seriously Bash, a fucking human child? Out in Pirate’s Alley on a Sunday night?

What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” An absolutely stunning vampire with a deep bronze skin and thick braids in a mini skirt aggressively snaps at Bash.

“Wow, for a week you’ve been skipping parties, not returning my calls—your cousins didn’t even know where you were—and you show up here with a human.

” The way she says ‘human’ is clearly meant to be insulting, like we are dirt beneath her.

Not even worth consideration. I raise my chin in defiance of this woman and try to look menacing.

“Talia, please. I’m trying to enjoy my Sunday like everyone else. Don’t make a scene. I will call you tonight when I get home.” Bash tells her tensely as he carefully angles his body in front of mine.

“Sure, Bash. I can’t wait to hear you explain this.” And she stomps away, back toward the cathedral.

Bash puts his hand on my lower back and steers me back on track.

“Let’s see about that protection I mentioned.”

The shop is dark and smells strongly of incense, but it’s not overwhelming—more comforting than anything.

A tall woman, skin the color of deep mahogany, with a red-and-green patterned tet mare steps out from behind a curtain at the far end of the shop, the bells on her robe and bracelets tinkling delicately as she moves.

Her headscarf and dress are adorned with a traditionally French-creole pattern.

“Bash! Gran zanmi mwen!” she exclaims as she comes around the counter, arms out for a hug.

Bash smiles at her affectionately and hugs her close to him.

I’m stunned that this creole tisaneuse—or even a witch—would be so friendly and welcoming to l’immortal, going so far as to call him her greatest friend. Simply stunned.

“Zelie, my heart smiles from such a warm greeting. How are you? How is Elodie? Do you need anything? I’m sorry I haven’t been in more often. I wish I had an excuse,” he says as he kisses her on both cheeks. For my part, I stand here speechless.

“I'm well—as are Elodie and the baby. They are settled in at home. And who have you brought to my shop tonight?”

“Zelie, this is mon tresor, Elina. Elina, this is my lovely friend, Zelie—she owns this shop. I've known her for, what, fifteen, twenty years?” He asks, before turning to her, “I want her protected.” He motions to me. Bash’s mention of knowing her fifteen or twenty years surprises me, Zelie doesn’t look any older than thirty herself, around the same as Bash and I.

I guess the difference is that I’m 28, Bash is who-knows-how old, and Zelie seems to be just as timeless.

I’m certain she’s human though. If she has suspended aging, she must be a bokor—a magic practitioner.

“Tresor, you say? Hmm. Step forward, child, let me look at you. You have a strong heart and your blood is from this land. You’re as much as part of this place as I am—there is magic inside you, I can feel it.

” She considers briefly before speaking again.

“You’ll need a salt and ash pendant. I’ll walk you through it.

First, you take a silver pendant, as silver is resistant to supernatural powers.

” She pulls a plain, silver disk pendant from behind the counter.

“Then, salt and charcoal made from burned sage, garlic, and rue are rubbed on the surface to imbue it with the power to repel vampires. It is left overnight for the morning dew to accumulate on the surface which gives it properties of the sunrise. An obsidian, left to bathe in the light of a full moon, is set into the silver. Finally, it is inscribed with ‘tutela a mortuis’, which means ‘protection from the dead’. Once I make the pendant for you, you will spill one drop of your blood, freely given, on its surface. This will bind the pendant to you and protect you from harm at the hands of a vampire as long as you are wearing it. This magic is old—sacred.”

She levels me a look before continuing. “Also, illegal. You are not to tell anyone who made you this pendant, or encourage anyone to try and make it themselves. Not only is it dangerous magic, but it is also punishable by death. Being bitten by a Sanguine Nocturnus is not the only way to die in this town.” She explains the entire process in hushed tones.

I guess that’s part of the whole it’s-illegal-to-create-vampire-repelling pendant thing.

“Thank you Zelie. This is—” I stop, unable to continue speaking past the lump in my throat at the sweetness—but also the importance of the gesture that Bash is presenting to me. Like, my safety matters. I’m speechless. I feel Bash move closer and wrap a tentative arm around my midsection.

He leans down and whispers, “Your safety is the most important thing I’ve ever cared about, Tesoro mio.” A shiver runs down my spine. I tell myself it is the cold interior of the shop or the magic in the air. I don’t believe him, can’t believe him.

I make a plan to return to Zelie’s shop on Wednesday because the full moon is Tuesday night, and will be the last step in her creating my magical protection.

Bash takes my hand as we exit the store, leads me up a set of stairs hidden next to Nocturne Noir, and we come out on the balcony above the shop.

“This is my loft. That's why I am so familiar with Zelie—I have lived up here since the turnover of power. She wasn’t sure about me at first, but I think I won her over.”

“I’m not going to fuck you, Bash. It’s a waste of time to bring me to your house. Besides, I gave you two hours—we only have a half hour left.” I’m irritated that he even brought me up here. I can’t believe he thought I would have sex with him because he took me to a cemetery and got me a present.

Something resembling hurt flashes in his eyes, like he can’t believe I would think that.

“Elina, I didn’t bring you up here for that.

You’re always so quick to assume the worst of me.

I wasn’t even planning to open my door. This is the quickest way to the next part of the evening, before I take you home.

28 minutes and counting.” He looks hurt, like my accusation wounded him.

He grabs ahold of my shoulders, touching the least surface area as possible and jumps.

“Holy mother, ahhhhhh, fuck! What the hell, Bash, are you trying to kill me?” I start ranting as soon as his feet touch solid ground.

At some point during the jump, I buried my face into his chest. Now, I can smell his whiskey and cologne smell as well as that burning smell.

I make a note to myself to ask him about it.

Pulling my face out of his chest, I peer up at him and see his eyes already on mine, his head slightly tilted, and a look I can't identify on his face—wistfulness, maybe?

I push off him and look around, gasping as I realize we are on top of the chapel.

“Bash, what are we doing up here?”

“I figured we could finish the night sitting up here and talking. We haven't talked much and I’m sure you have questions about or for me. I want to know you too. Can we just…talk?” He looks at me pleadingly.

“Ok. Twenty questions, it is. You know we don’t really know much about you—as a species, I mean. I can ask anything and you’ll tell me?” I ask him sweetly as I lie down on the roof and look up at the stars. He lies down beside me, shoulder to shoulder, the toe of my sneaker brushing his knee.

“Yes, as long as it doesn’t endanger you or me. I want to be honest with you, if you’ll be honest with me”.

I stare up at the moon hanging in the sky above us. There are so many thoughts—so many questions—on the tip of my tongue. Everything about tonight has been perfect, Bash has been so open and vulnerable, I don’t even know how to process all of this.

I launch into the first thing that pops into my head.

“I have so many questions. First, I was looking at the Malvani family tree and I saw your lineage, as well as the notation about you being the heir, not having any sirelings, and your paternal parentage being unknown. And I figured that it kind of seems like the Blood Ravens were born. Not turned. Born like babies. But I’ve never seen a vampire baby and I’ve known lots of human women who have had sex with vamps.

” That comment is accompanied by some side eye aimed Bash’s way.

“So it doesn’t make a lot of sense but it seems that way.

Marcus looks like you, and I have seen a few of the women from your family and they look similar too.

And Marcus looks older than you, but not a lot older. And there were no birth-”