Page 60 of Dance of the Phoenix (Cloak of the Vampire #3)

Aileen

My body felt as though it had been through the wringer.

Everything ached. My muscles were sore beyond belief, my burns were tender and painful, and all I wanted was to keep sleeping.

But according to Isora, who had been sitting by my side in the infirmary back at the Rayne League when I woke up earlier, I’d been sleeping nonstop for days, and enough was enough. I couldn’t agree more.

Now, I watched the bed across from me, where Tansy was sitting up, reading a book. Apparently, in the time I was training, fighting in the Hecatomb, almost dying, turning back time, then almost dying again, Tansy had woken up from her long comatose state.

And acted as if she remembered nothing of the last few months.

It had been an hour since I woke up. While I’d sent Isora to get some sleep, since she looked as if she hadn’t slept for as many days as I’d been sleeping, I tried to talk to Tansy, but the woman didn’t answer me.

So now I was waiting for Ragnor. And to pass the time, I tried to jog Tansy’s memories.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” I asked her.

Tansy shrugged. “Dunno.”

How talkative.

“Don’t bother her anymore, Aileen,” Leah, the nurse in charge, scolded me, pulling the curtains around Tansy’s bed. “She needs rest and a calming environment.”

I had nothing to say to that, so I lay back in bed and stared at the ceiling.

Too much time passed before the infirmary doors opened, revealing Ragnor. He made a beeline to my bed, and before I even sat up, I was in his arms.

“Hey,” he said quietly, embracing me tightly.

“Hey,” I said back, hugging him just as tightly.

We didn’t let go of one another for a while, and neither did we speak. There were so many unspoken questions lingering between us, many things that needed to be said, but it was as if there were so many, neither of us knew how to even start that conversation.

In the end, Ragnor broke the silence first. “Are you well enough to stand?” he asked, leaning back so he could cup my face and scan my eyes.

“I think so,” I said softly, my love for him suddenly overwhelming me, despite everything that we had yet to say.

“Then let’s go,” he murmured, his thumb caressing my cheek. “The funerals are about to start.”

It took me a few moments to understand what he was saying, but when it hit me, it hit me hard.

Logan, Zoey, Cassidy, CJ, Jada.

Their funerals.

Any relief I’d felt when I saw Ragnor disappeared, replaced by sorrow that threatened to suffocate me. “Oh.”

Softly, Ragnor pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You don’t have to come.”

“I want to,” I whispered, feeling tears welling in my eyes. “I have to.”

So, with Ragnor’s help, we made our way to the Rayne League greenhouse, where we left to the field outside, where Tansy had almost taken her own life. Dozens of League members were already there, surrounding what seemed to be five coffins.

My sorrow transformed into unbearable guilt and shame. Perhaps, if I’d gone back one more day, I could’ve saved them, I thought for the first time since ... everything. Perhaps, if I hadn’t been so narrow minded, so locked on saving Ragnor only ...

But the rational part of my mind knew it to be a futile thought. I might’ve been able to save Logan, but what about the others? I couldn’t have fought Cassidy’s, Zoey’s, and CJ’s battles for them. I couldn’t have prevented Jada’s soul being ripped apart by the death of her Alara Morreh.

And yet, I could’ve saved Logan.

But I didn’t.

And even if I were able to turn back time again, I had a gut feeling I wouldn’t be able to. As if my power knew something that I didn’t.

It didn’t take away from my guilt, or the shame.

Ragnor sat me down on one of the few chairs in the field, drawing my attention to him. “I’m going to give a eulogy,” he told me quietly. “Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”

I could barely nod, buried under the weight of the misery. But Ragnor was still the Lord of this League. He had his duty to uphold. I couldn’t ask him to stay with me.

They didn’t deserve it.

Ragnor pressed another kiss to my temple and walked away to the closed coffins colored plain black. And after he raised his arm, drawing everyone’s attention, he spoke.

“Logan Kazar, Zoey Rittman, Cassidy Jones, Chanjomaron, and Jada Moore,” he said in a quiet voice that rang clearly in the silence of the field. “They were our League members. Our brothers and sisters. And they gave their lives so our League would thrive. For that, I will be eternally grateful.”

The tears fled my eyes, trickling down my face.

“For almost four years,” Ragnor said, “Logan was a pillar of support to many of his fellow members. He was loved and respected, a strong Gifted individual the League will miss.

“Zoey and Cassidy were given the Imprint around the same time, seven months ago,” he continued in a softer voice.

“They both made their places known in the vampiric society and in the Rayne League, as both Common and Gifted respectively.

They fought side by side for this League, and they died side by side, valiantly and bravely.

“Chanjomaron—CJ ...” Ragnor paused, and for a moment I thought I heard his voice shake a little, when he said, “He’s been here for many decades. A good friend, a good worker, a good man.”

Someone sobbed in the crowd, and when I turned to look, I saw Bowen. The last remaining member of the dishwashing team.

My shame tripled. They were his closest friends, and yet ...

“The same goes for Jada,” Ragnor continued, and his voice cleared. “She was a vital piece of the League’s ecosystem. A good friend and a good woman.”

Ragnor took a deep breath and straightened. “I will never forget the sacrifice they made, and I hope you won’t either.”

He walked back toward me and grabbed me in his arms, sitting down with me cradled on his lap. I cried quietly, and I could see tears brimming in his own eyes.

That startled me the most. Because Ragnor never cried. Never.

So when one after another, people who were close to the five took to the front to say their own eulogies, I whispered to Ragnor, “Who?”

“CJ,” Ragnor responded, tightening his hold on me. “Chanjomaron. He’s ... he’s been an old friend. Someone I cared for.”

I never realized, but knowing that CJ used to be a Malachi, and knowing that Ragnor, too ... It all suddenly made sense. “I’m sorry,” I said, voice breaking, “If only ... if only I’d thought clearer ...”

“It’s not your fault, Aileen,” he whispered. “None of it is.”

But it is, Ragnor, I thought, unable to utter words. You don’t know that in a different timeline, you died. That I saved you, when I could’ve maybe saved the others too. You don’t know that I know you were a Malachi. You don’t know that I love you so much, too much, that I can’t tell you any of it.

Ragnor and I sat in silence for the rest of the funeral, grief resting heavily on our shoulders.

“Where is Eliza?” I asked Ragnor when we were back in the underground compound. He was taking me back to the infirmary, or at least planned to, but I wanted to know that first.

“She’s here,” he said, not elaborating, which made me come to a stop, forcing him to stop as well. Seeing my determined look, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his shoulder. “She’s not ... well.”

I frowned. “What do you mean, not well?”

He shook his head. “It means you shouldn’t ... or rather, can’t see her.” He gave me a meaningful look. “Not now that you’ve transformed into ... the Phoenix.”

My heart beat like a drum. Is it time already? Is it time for the big talk? “Ragnor,” I said quietly, “I ... I don’t know where ...”

“I know,” Ragnor said quietly, caressing my cheeks. “We don’t have to talk about it yet. But we will. When we’re both ready.”

Feeling my throat closing up, I nodded and hugged him tight. “Okay.”

“Let’s go back to our room, then,” he said quietly. “It’s been a long day.”

More like a long month.

And so we went to Ragnor’s—no, our room, and lay together in bed, holding onto one another, terrified that if we let go, then we’d both simply disappear.

Tomorrow, we could talk about everything.

But tonight, we just needed to make sure we were alive.