Page 37 of Blood Ties (City of Blood #1)

Elina

Monday.

The September morning dawns with a coolness in the air, a promise of relief from the sweltering heat of summer. There are still plenty of sweaty days ahead but there is hope.

Friday looms like a yawning monster on the horizon, fear taking root in my chest at the thought of being presented to court and council for judgement.

Judgement of whether our love is worthy.

I have long since earned approval from Vespera and I was stupid enough to feel secure in that knowledge.

I never considered that the stakes were actually a lot higher.

I still haven’t decided what happens when Sarah joins Ethan in the world ruled by moonlight. I haven’t decided if I want that for my life. Basking under the stars with the family we are creating for ourselves this summer was more than I could have ever dreamed of. A sense of rightness in my soul.

I know that Marcus will demand an answer to that question. I decide to spend today in the sun. I need to reflect on what it will mean for me to leave it behind. I dress slowly, perusing the expanse of black clothes and decide on a pair of black biker shorts and a t-shirt that says, “I bite back.”

The warm, late summer sun burns my face. Having spent most of the summer living by the light of the moon, the days are overly bright, my skin sensitive. I don’t miss the irony of that, considering the question that weighs so heavily on me today.

Bash is my forever—I can’t ever picture someone else by my side.

I turned 29 in August and it was the most perfect birthday I have ever had, because I was surrounded by love I never thought was possible in this place.

Bash showed me, through deed and word, that he intends to spend my life beside me.

Now, I need to decide if I can spend his life beside him.

In eterno only means something if I believe it.

Tuesday.

Every day closer to Friday, more fear curls in my stomach, an ever present reminder that we are living on borrowed time, both, in our relationship and with my life.

Falling asleep next to the man who has consumed my entire world is as easy as breathing.

Waking up and being haunted by the contrast between the warmth of him under the sheets of our bed, and the coldness of his unmoving body, helps hammer home the fact that he lives in the darkness while I pretend it’s possible to straddle two worlds.

Am I prepared to give up everything in the light?

To allow the love I have for Bash and our life together to be the sun in my sky?

Bash tells me daily that while he does not get to live in the sun, he gets to watch the sun rise each night when he rises and sees my smiling face.

His devotion both fills me and breaks me.

I’ve officially moved into his loft. I’ve brought warmth, color, chaos. I cook in his kitchen. I clutter his once-empty bathroom counter. His space is ours now. Our home. And I don’t want to lose that. I won’t.

Walking through the Garden District, the streets steeped in history and memory, I wander into Lafayette Cemetery No. 1. I run my fingertips across the tombs of my ancestors and friends. I contemplate my name never being on one of these tombs. If I could live forever, would I take the chance?

I can, but should I?

Wednesday.

Only two more sunrises. I don’t think this is the end—I don’t believe that Marcus will ask for me to be turned on Friday though I do believe he will force my hand on my decision.

Force me to speak it into existence, that I am willing to sacrifice it all.

The decision to give up my humanity for Bash.

Lose the rush of blood under my skin as Bash moves inside me.

The feeling of him sucking my life’s essence from my throat, my thighs, my wrist. His teeth biting into my breast, lapping each drop up like a prayer and a promise.

Will turning take the need, the passion, we have? Is it a part of my humanity? I can’t help but consider the possibility that Bash is just as attracted to my human heat as he is to my heart.

What of the dark side?

The idea of taking the life of another person, stealing their future to feed my hunger, makes me nauseous. It’s a horrifying thought that if I make this decision, then soon, I will be the monster in someone else’s story.

When Marcus makes me declare my choice, why would I delay the inevitable. I should go through with the change right there, in front of the king and council. Show them what I am willing to do for love.

I want nothing more than to bind myself to Bash, take the legame. Leap off the bridge of uncertainty I have built for myself and let myself descend into the shadows.

Bash has left me to my brooding this week, awaiting my verdict similarly to how I await my own judgement.

In our nights together, we enjoy each other and dance around the subject he knows I spend my days on.

I know there is fear in his eyes reflected back at me, not fear that Marcus will deny me, but that I will deny him.

The only thing I know for certain is I refuse to give Bash up.

Thursday.

One more day.

One more sunrise.

One more day that I get to walk amongst the humanity that thrums through Ville de Sang and pretend I am the same. That I haven’t decided to forsake everything I have believed in order to chase down a new future. Forge a new path. Orchestrate a new life.

Accepting, what I know will be offered tomorrow night, will make me principessa.

It will crown me with new enemies and new family.

New responsibilities to the kingdom, things that will require me to consider the good of the night dwellers, the blood-drinkers over the humans.

The innocent children, the grandparents. The food and the fodder in wars.

I feel sick sitting on the steps of the cathedral, considering that soon, this will be my home.

The modest house in Little Woods that my grandparents bought as a newly married couple, the home where they brought their little baby girl into the world, the house where that little girl became a woman and had her own little girl, won’t be for me anymore.

I won’t be able to go inside.

I will be a Blood Raven.

I will be the enemy.

I am afraid.

I am resolute, I think.

Being loved with the devotion of immortality is like a drug. I am addicted. Bash worships at my altar like a man who has been starving for centuries.

I am ready, I think.

The possibility of forever is a path into the unknown, and I will not be afraid.

Friday.

This is the day. I will not be afraid.

Tonight, when the sun slides beneath the horizon, I will stand in front of some of the most powerful vampires in existence—not as prey.

Not as a lamb.

I will not go to slaughter.

I will become a lion.

Bash is my now, but he is also my future.

Walking into my childhood home, I inhale the comforting smell of spices and Grand-mere.

I walk slowly through the house, touching everything.

Remembering Saturday mornings on the old comfy couch, curled up, reading a book.

Dinners with friends and neighbors gathered around the dining table, good food being shared by everyone.

The worn cupboards in the kitchen, the weathered boards on the back porch.

I watch a memory in my mind, a little girl running barefoot through the grass, being sprayed by the garden sprinkler. This is the place where my past lives.

I wipe away the tears and go into my bedroom.

The room that was all mine, my entire life.

I sit on the edge of the small twin bed and take in the creaking floorboards, the small vanity, and bookshelf.

The mementos of my life before, pictures of school friends, trinkets, and drawings.

My entire life in one small room. I lie back and stare at the ceiling that I looked at almost every night for 28 years.

I let the tears run down my cheeks and land on the pillow that is no longer mine.

Walking through the streets that were my life, the path I walked every day to school, fills my chest with joy and heartbreak simultaneously.

Taking off my shoes and walking barefoot in the grass of the park, laying down to feel the sun burn my cheeks, I appreciate the work that went into ensuring that my life was full and happy despite how desperate our lives have been.

I watch a few clouds move slowly across the sky, unconcerned with the matters of humans.

I imagine they are animals and balloons and toys, like I did as a child.

Knowing it’s time to head back into the Quarter, I decide to have a meal in a little restaurant with a balcony, where I can watch the people mill around and go about their lives in the only way they know how.

I walk slowly on the sidewalk, savoring the warm sun on my face, people walking past me. I hear someone come up to me, a hand lightly brushing my shoulder.

And everything goes black.

There is something over my head, something heavy…

I can’t see.

I can’t breathe.

Sound is warped in my ears.

I flail my arms around and hit the bodies standing close to me.

Who would attack me? What’s going on?

A sting in my neck disrupts my panic. For just a second.

Then.

Nothing.