Page 8

Chapter eight

S omething was wrong.

Rune didn’t have evidence, nothing he could point to as the cause, but he felt it.

He sensed it in the emptiness of the village streets.

In the hush that filled the shops.

He saw it on the faces of the residents.

Heard it in their concerned whispers.

He even detected it in seemingly innocuous things, like the lack of grievances filed from the eighth-floor tenants at the high-rise.

For centuries, not a week had gone by without him receiving at least one complaint from the group, yet the past couple of weeks had been crickets.

It wasn’t just them either.

The whole of the Tower had been uncharacteristically quiet.

Sure, maybe everyone had collectively decided to take a break from their petty quarrels, but he doubted it.

He knew the patterns, the statistics, and the trends.

And those kinds of numbers didn’t just dramatically fall off without a reason.

“And we’re here because there’s not a problem?”

Rune glanced over at his mate as they entered the Tower lobby.

“Yes.”

“Cool. Just checking.”

There had been a marked difference in Keegan’s mood and demeanor in the last several days.

While Rune didn’t want to take too much credit, he did hope he might have at least a small part to play in that change.

Since they had cemented their mating bond, the guy had been calmer, less stressed.

The connection also seemed to have settled something inside him, grounding him in ways that Rune didn’t fully grasp yet.

Waiting to claim Keegan, to intrinsically link their hearts, minds, and souls, had never been about uncertainty.

He had always known where they were headed, but Keegan had needed time.

Not just to mourn, but to grow, to accept, and to understand he had a hell of a lot more power in their relationship than he realized.

At the same time, Rune admitted he may have miscalculated.

In his mind, he’d been giving his mate a choice, but in reality, he had been allowing him to spiral.

He had never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve or talk openly about his feelings, choosing instead to show his love through actions.

But if Keegan needed the words to feel secure and happy, he’d try.

Then there were the little things.

Things he considered unimportant, but that meant the world to his mate.

Things like wearing his clothes.

Rune legitimately couldn’t remember a time in his life when he had owned a hoodie, let alone worn one.

Then, one day, he had awoken to a closet full of them.

At first, he had figured he’d done something to offend their finicky home, and that was the castle’s payback.

He had been confused and a little annoyed when Keegan had insisted he wear one, but after a lot of prodding, he had finally given in.

It had been soft and warm, and it had fit him fine, but he hadn’t loved it.

He also hadn’t understood what the big deal was.

Until he’d seen Keegan wearing it the next morning.

Of course, it had been far too big on him, but he’d looked adorable in it.

And there had been something about seeing Keegan in his clothes, something primal, visceral, that had completely undone him.

Moreover, every time he saw Keegan turn his head and sniff at the collar, it would crack his chest wide open.

Now, he wore one of the sweatshirts around the castle for a couple of hours every night.

Not because he enjoyed it, but because he loved what it led to.

Glancing at him as they waited for the elevator, a quiet, possessive growl vibrated in his throat.

The black hoodie swallowed his mate, the hem brushing the tops of his thighs, but he looked so fucking cute in it.

Damn near edible.

“You’re looking at me weird.”

“How am I looking at you, kaelaer ?”

“Like you want to eat me.” Fisting his hands in the sleeve cuffs, he rocked up on his toes and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Which I’m totally down with, in case you were wondering.”

Rune chuckled and pulled him close by the drawstrings to kiss the top of his head.

“Behave.”

“Boo.” Keegan let out a long, dramatic sigh, even as he leaned into Rune’s side.

“Sounds boring, but fine.”

“Tell me something,” he said, ushering his mate into the elevator when the doors parted with a quiet ding.

“Why do you like black and white?”

He could now say with confidence that the initial color scheme hadn’t been a fluke or a learning curve.

These were indeed the guy’s favorite colors.

He just didn’t understand why when it matched nothing about his colorful personality.

Keegan shrugged. “Because they’re simple.”

“Explain.”

“Well, they go with everything. And if I said my favorite color was blue, what does that even mean?” He held his hand up and began ticking the choices off on his fingers as he named them.

“Like royal blue? Navy? Periwinkle?”

“Isn’t that purple?”

“See! That’s what I mean!”

Rune laughed again, completely gone for this little chaos monster who craved simplicity while simultaneously being the walking embodiment of contradiction.

The lift slowed to a stop, opening onto the eighth-floor corridor.

“Got it. No blue. No purple. Just—Keegan?” He paused outside of the cab and glanced over his shoulder when he realized his mate hadn’t followed.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered, his tone uncertain as he dragged his gaze away from the wall of glass.

“I thought I saw…” Trailing off, he shook his head and pasted on a bright smile.

“Never mind.”

Rune took his hand when Keegan reached for him, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the inside of the elevator.

Nothing appeared suspicious or out of place, though.

With no threat to fight, he shrugged it off and continued down the hallway.

“Really,” Keegan said, his voice slipping into Rune’s mind.

“Why are we here? Is this like an afterlife wellness check?”

A fairly apt description actually.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Everything has been a little too quiet lately.”

“And you’re worried.”

“I’m…interested.”

“Because you’re worried.” Keegan squeezed his hand as he looked up at him with an angelic smile.

“That’s really sweet.”

He didn’t consider the residents of floor eight friends, but he had grown fond of the group over the years.

“It’s my job.”

“ Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

“You’re kind of a pain in my ass,” he countered, speaking the words out loud.

He chuckled, secretly loving that Keegan always called him on his bullshit, even when he didn’t want to be seen.

“You know that, right?”

Keegan shrugged, completely unbothered.

“Obviously, but I figure turnabout is fair play.” He rubbed a hand over his backside and sighed.

“I’m still walking funny.”

Gods, he was an absolute menace, and Rune couldn’t have loved him more.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Look, I didn’t know that stuff Paris gave me would work that well.”

As Rune had suspected, the glass vial had contained a libido enhancer that Keegan certainly didn’t need.

Still, he’d wanted to try it, and the results had been nothing short of explosive.

Hell, even Rune had been sweat-soaked and exhausted by the time they had collapsed onto the bed.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night. Unless ‘oh, god, please,’ was a cry for divine intervention.”

Keegan choked and started coughing as a vibrant blush crept up his neck and into his cheeks.

“Okay,” he wheezed. “You win that one.”

Feeling pretty fucking smug about it too, Rune grinned as they approached the door of the first unit.

He lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles against the wood, calling Sergei’s name as he did so in case the asshole got the idea to ignore the summons.

He received no response, so he tried again.

Still nothing.

“Maybe he’s in the village,” Keegan suggested, the teasing gone from his voice now.

“He never leaves.”

“Well, maybe he did.” Keegan pulled on his hand.

“Let’s try another one.”

Rune strode to the next door and knocked loudly.

“Esther! It’s Rune. Open the door.”

Nothing, not even the smell of microwaved tuna, emanated from the apartment.

“I’ll try the next one.” Keegan frowned, his brow etched with concern.

“Who lives there?”

“Dolma.” He stared down the hallway toward the last door at the end.

“I’ll try Jiro.”

Jogging past his mate, he had just reached the unit when a thunderous bang echoed through the space and shook the walls.

He jerked around, shaking his head as he watched Keegan pound on the door with the side of his fist.

“Police! Open up!” Keegan yelled.

“Fire! Flood! Existential crisis!”

“What are you doing?”

Keegan looked at him and shrugged.

“Your way wasn’t working.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Which was why Rune did something he never would have considered in the past. He removed the slim, brass skeleton key from his pocket and unlocked the door of Jiro’s apartment.

He considered it a gross invasion of privacy, an overstep of his authority, but he had officially moved past interested.

“Stay here,” he ordered when Keegan joined him outside the unit.

He wrung his hands together and nodded as he took a step back from the doorway.

No sass. No arguments.

Entering the apartment, he moved slowly, every step careful and measured, as he listened for even the smallest noise.

But it was quiet. Eerily so.

Instead of sofas and chairs, the room consisted of floor pillows placed around a small squat table in the main area, while a shoji screen separated the space from the bedroom.

The futon had been rolled out for the night, the quilt pulled back in preparation, but it didn’t look as if it had been slept in.

“Keegan,” he called through their bond.

“You can come in.”

“Oh.” Hurrying into the room, Keegan turned his head this way and that, trying to take in everything at once.

“This is…not what I expected.”

The tiny kitchen had been tucked into the corner, a hot plate and a refrigerator the only modern appliances in view.

On the narrow countertop, a sipper cup perched on a dented saucer next to a painted teapot, along with what looked like the remnants of a sweet bun.

Following his gaze, Keegan stepped up to the counter and dipped his finger into the teacup.

“It’s cold.”

Rune frowned.

The place was giving off the same unsettling vibes he’d felt in Noah’s apartment.

Lifeless, yet suspended in time, as if the occupant had vanished in the middle of their nightly routine.

“Should we check the others?” Keegan asked, a slight tremor to his voice now.

“No.” He already knew what they would find.

“I want to see the other floors.” While he would have preferred to do it alone, he didn’t have time to escort his mate back to the castle, and he sure as fuck wasn’t sending him off on his own.

“Stay close.”

Rune didn’t have a specific destination in mind when he stepped into the elevator again.

With no buttons inside the cab, he could only trust that the Tower would take him where he needed to go.

The door closed, then opened again almost immediately, dumping them out onto the thirty-second level of the high-rise.

“Why…oh, god.” Keegan pressed a hand to his mouth.

“Does that mean…?”

Rune didn’t know yet, and he didn’t want to speculate, but he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was where the investigative thread ended.

At least for now. Whatever sickness had infected the building, it had already spread this far.

“Come on.” If the Tower had brought him here, there must be something, some clue left behind.

“Let’s check the apartments.”

Though he knew what to expect, that still didn’t prepare him for what he found.

Empty beds. Half-eaten meals.

A broken glass on the kitchen floor.

Dishwater in the sink.

An open book on the sofa.

Each space quiet, still, and haunted by absence.

After searching half a dozen units, Rune had seen enough.

“We need to talk to Orrin.”

“Wait.” Standing in the middle of a bathroom decorated in shades of cream and rose, Keegan lifted his hand and motioned for Rune to join him.

“Come here.” At the same time, he pointed to the large mirror hung on the wall above the vanity, frameless and backlit by muted amber light.

“Look at this.”

Joining him in the cramped space, Rune pressed against his back as he studied the mirror.

If not for the distortion of his reflection, he might have missed it.

Subtle, almost imperceptible, the glass contorted in a tight circle, rippling outward like a drop of water over the surface of a still pond.

“Is that normal?”

Rune rested a comforting hand on his mate’s shoulder.

For his sake or Keegan’s, he didn’t know.

Maybe both.

“No, kaelaer , that’s not normal.”

“Then why are you smiling?” Keegan asked, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

He wasn’t.

But his reflection was.

Not just any smile either.

Cold, heartless, calculating—it was the kind of expression that promised suffering.

“Keegan, step away.”

But he had spoken too late.

With a violent crack, the mirror splintered, and ropes of liquid mercury sprang from the shards, writhing and reaching.

They wrapped themselves around Keegan’s arms and neck, squeezing as they retreated, dragging him toward whatever hell waited beyond.

Unsheathing the dagger from his belt, he cut at the vines, but he might as well have been trying to slice water for all the good it did.

He abandoned the blade and grabbed his mate instead, holding him around the waist as he tried in vain to keep him there.

The harder he struggled, though, the more Keegan coughed and sputtered, the whip around his neck tightening, biting into his skin.

Although his mate was already dead, and therefore shouldn’t be able to die again , Rune had never seen magic like this.

He didn’t understand it, didn’t trust it, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to risk his mate on a theory.

For the first time in more than a millennium, he faced a fight he couldn’t win.

And the only way out… was through.