Page 195 of Evil Hearts
Chapter Five
T he cathedral rooftop stretched before Elena, a stone stage for her restless pacing. She’d come too early, and the moon had not risen. The wind whipped strands of fiery hair across her face as she clutched the leather-bound notebook to her chest. Sketches and scribbled notes, fragments of impossible memories, fluttered within its pages.
Elena’s brow furrowed, determination etched in the set of her jaw. Aldric’s past, and their messy present, lingered just beyond her grasp, taunting her with glimpses of a truth she couldn’t quite fathom. The chill seeped through her thin sweater, but it paled in comparison to the ache of unanswered questions.
“Why do I feel so okay with a gargoyle giving me any attention, nevermind an earth shattering orgasm?” she whispered to the gargoyles perched along the rooftop’s edge. Their stony gazes offered no reply.
Part of her worried they were all real and could understand her, but for all her interest, she couldn’t bring herself to offer to touch them. Not when she worried they’d all be like Aldric.
“You’re not going to get anything done up here and there’s no sense in watching him break free of the stone.” Though she’d seen it twice, he’d not permitted her to watch him turn to stone, so it was almost as if she wanted to stay to witness every moment, uncertain as she was that he was real despite the wings and well, other bits clearly working like real.
Elena turned, her footsteps echoing as she descended the narrow spiral staircase. The ancient stones seemed to pulse with secrets, the very walls of the cathedral holding tales untold. She emerged into the deserted corridors below, her pace quickening as she navigated the labyrinthine halls.
The library door loomed before her, a portal to knowledge long forgotten, knowledge she assumed was heavily tinged with religious persecution but perhaps her only hope. Elena paused, her hand resting on the worn brass handle. Beyond this threshold lay the answers she sought, hidden among dusty tomes and faded parchment. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Fading sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, casting an ethereal glow upon the towering bookshelves. Elena moved with purpose, her fingers trailing along spines of ancient texts. Titles whispered of myths and legends, of curses and forbidden love. Each step brought her closer to the truth that beckoned from the shadows.
She reached for a leather-bound volume, its cover embossed with arcane symbols. As she opened it, the scent of aged parchment filled her nostrils. Elena’s eyes widened as illustrations of gargoyles and sorceresses danced across the pages, their stories waiting to be unraveled.
A sudden presence filled the room, a comforting shadow amidst the dim light. Elena’s heart skipped a beat as she turned to find Aldric standing in the doorway, his emerald eyes locked on hers as his wings rested easily against his side, likely too large to fit inside the doorway extended. He moved with a fluid grace, his footsteps barely audible against the polished floor.
“Elena,” he whispered, his voice a soothing caress. “What brings you to this sanctuary of knowledge?”
She held up the ancient tome, her fingers trembling slightly. “I found something, Aldric.”
Aldric’s eyes widened, a flicker of pain crossing his chiseled features. He approached Elena, his presence both comforting and electrifying. “Show me,” he urged, his voice tinged with a mixture of hope and trepidation.
Together, they pored over the faded pages, their heads bent close as they deciphered the cryptic passages. Elena’s heart raced as she pointed to an illustration of a beautiful sorceress, her raven hair cascading down her back.
“Cassandra Nightshade,” Elena breathed. “She was the one who cursed you, wasn’t she?”
Aldric nodded, his jaw clenched. “Aye. This is a language I haven’t seen in forever, but it is her handwriting, I still remember it.”
Elena’s fingers traced the drawing of Cassandra, a shiver running down her spine. “And the curse? What does it say about breaking it?”
Aldric’s eyes met hers, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths. “It speaks of a bond, a connection that transcends time and stone. But the path is fraught with danger, Elena. The cult that worships Cassandra will stop at nothing to prevent the curse from being broken.”
Elena’s heart thundered in her chest as she grasped Aldric’s hand, her fingers intertwining with his. “I’m not afraid, Aldric. I’m a freaking art teacher, but I’m not afraid because there’s no sense in it.”
Aldric’s gaze lingered on their entwined hands, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He withdrew his hand, reaching into his coat pocket to retrieve a small, weathered book. As he opened it, the pages moved as if by magic, settling on an image that stole Elena’s breath.
“Is that...” she whispered, her finger hovering over the delicate illustration of a man and woman, their faces achingly familiar.
“Us,” Aldric confirmed, his voice low and tinged with melancholy. “In another life, another time. I don’t remember who you were to me then, Elena, but it’s clear our paths have crossed before.”
Elena’s heart ached at the longing in his tone, the weight of centuries lost to the curse. She yearned to comfort him, to ease the burden he carried, but the words caught in her throat.
Abruptly, Aldric snapped the book shut, his features hardening. “Come. There’s something I need to show you.”
He led her through the winding corridors, their footsteps echoing in the silence. They climbed the narrow staircase to the cathedral rooftop, emerging into the cool night air. The city stretched out before them, a tapestry of lights and shadows.
Elena shivered, the breeze whispering across her skin like a ghostly caress. She stepped closer to Aldric, drawn to his solid presence, the unspoken connection between them palpable in the charged air.
“What is this place to you?” she asked softly, her gaze tracing the strong lines of his profile.
Aldric’s eyes remained fixed on the horizon, his voice low and haunted. “It’s a reminder of my failure, of the curse that binds me. But it’s also a symbol of hope, of the possibility of redemption.”
He turned to face her then, his emerald eyes intense and searching. In that moment, Elena saw the man beneath the stone, the soul that yearned for freedom and love.
The air between them crackled with tension, unspoken emotions swirling like the winds that buffeted the cathedral spires. Elena’s heart raced, her breath caught in her throat as Aldric’s gaze dipped to her lips, a silent question in his eyes.
But before they could close the distance, a sudden chill swept over the rooftop, a darkness that had nothing to do with the night.
Elena shivered, an ominous feeling creeping up her spine.
“Aldric,” she whispered, her voice laced with trepidation. “Something’s wrong.”
His hand tightened around hers, his body tensing and she watched as he scanned the shadows. “I feel it too,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “A presence watching us.”
Elena’s heart hammered against her ribs, fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins. She pressed closer to Aldric, seeking comfort in his strength, in the solid warmth of his body.
“The cult?” she breathed, her eyes wide and searching.
Aldric’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the carved planes of his face. “Perhaps.”
A gust of wind swept across the rooftop, carrying with it the scent of decay and despair. Elena shuddered, her skin prickling with goosebumps. In the distance, a lone raven cawed, its mournful cry echoing through the night.
“We should go,” Aldric said, his voice urgent and strained. “It’s not safe here, back inside.”
But even as he spoke, Elena could feel the darkness closing in, the shadows reaching out with icy fingers to ensnare them. She clung to Aldric, her anchor in the tempest, as the world seemed to tilt and shift around them.
A glint of silver caught her eye, a flash of movement in the periphery of her vision. Elena whirled, her heart in her throat, as a figure emerged from the shadows, cloaked in black and radiating menace.
“Aldric Stoneheart,” the figure hissed, its voice a sibilant whisper that crawled over Elena’s skin like a thousand spiders. “You cannot escape your fate. The curse will consume you, and all those you hold dear.”
Aldric pushed Elena behind him, shielding her with his body as he faced the intruder. “I won’t let that happen,” he growled, his voice raw and defiant. “Cassandra clearly did more than we ever knew, but she’s dead and gone, more dust than if you struck me with a hammer while I slept in the daylight.”
“You should know my name, it will be important.” He gave a dramatic bow. “Lucien Bane.” Lucien warned, his icy gaze locking with Aldric’s. “The cult grows stronger with each passing day, we did not sleep as you did for centuries.”
Aldric’s jaw clenched, his hand tightening around Elena’s. “What do you want, Lucien?”
“To remind you of your fate.” Lucien’s lips curled into a sinister smile. “The curse will consume you, Stoneheart. And all those you hold dear.”
Elena’s heart raced, fear and anger intertwining within her. She stepped forward, eyes blazing. “We won’t let that happen.”
Lucien’s gaze shifted to her, a flicker of amusement crossing his features. “Ah, the fiery redhead. So brave, so foolish.”
Aldric’s arm shot out, shielding Elena. “Leave her out of this.”
“Impossible.” Lucien’s voice dropped to a menacing whisper. “She’s already caught in the web of your destiny.”
The figure laughed, a sound like shattering glass, and vanished into the night, leaving only a lingering sense of dread in its wake.
“He’s gone,” Aldric murmured, his eyes scanning the darkness.
Elena sagged against Aldric, her knees weak and trembling. “What do we do now?” she whispered, her voice small and lost in the vastness of the night.
Aldric turned to her, his eyes blazing with determination and something else, something fierce and primal. “We get inside,” he said, his voice a promise and a prayer. “Together, because I’m afraid I know that voice.”
She didn’t dare ask what it meant because for the first time since waking up an immortal being and accepting he was real, she worried what else might go bump in the night.