Page 39

A soft growl rebutted her utterance. Stella stiffened, and her eyes shot open. Kat poised herself over Raphael again, raising the hacksaw slowly. Too slowly . Stella blinked and squinted at Kat’s laborious movements, taking shape in slow motion. Then the growl sounded again. Louder and far closer.

The hair on the back of her neck rose.

“It’s not real,” she told herself. Stella shook as she forced her gaze over her shoulder. The moment her eyes locked with the demon dog, it lunged.

Stella screamed as it slammed into her. The back of her head knocked painfully into the ground, and her vision blanked at the force. In the next instant, she was surging upward, eyes wide open.

“Stella? Stella, what’s wrong?” Warm hands clasped her shoulders. Stella instinctively turned into Raphael’s hold, a sob breaking free from her. “Hush now, it’s all right. It was just a dream. Whatever it was, it was a dream.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was real .”

Stella felt frantic. She couldn’t rid herself of the godawful foreboding that lingered with her post-nightmare. Raphael held onto her more tightly, whispering reassurances into her hair as she cried helplessly into his chest.

She didn't know what to make of the nightmare. The numbing cold she experienced told her what she saw wasn’t to be believed, but the scene had been almost identical to her last, and it had the elements of warmth she associated with reality. Stella pulled away from Raphael sniffling.

Was it a premonition of things to come or not?

Stella grimaced. She could already feel the details slipping away from her. Her hands dove straight into her hair as she tried to quell her panic and remember the order of things.

“It was in the same room as before,” she said aloud, fixating on her lap as she let her mind sharpen on the nightmare.

“Okay… Am I supposed to know what—”

Stella shushed him and continued. “Just remember what I say. It was in the same room as before, with the statue and candles. Layla was on the ground—”

“Pardon?”

“She was dead again.”

Raphael turned her to face him. “What did you just say?”

Stella’s eyes welled with tears. “She was dead. They cut her throat.”

“Who?” He demanded.

“Kat.”

Raphael shrank back. “You dreamed about my sister’s death?”

“No, I dreamed about you being tortured by Kat.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “She had you strapped to a table in front of a giant golden effigy and was getting ready to saw off one of your horns. I don’t think it was a dream either. I think it was a premonition.”

He stayed quiet for a long time. The seconds drifted into minutes that rattled Stella’s nerves even more. Her body hurt. Particularly her abdomen. Her gaze drifted down Raphael’s torso. The blankets covered his bandages, but she was certain it was his pain and soreness she was experiencing. Stella breathed through it and gave Raphael another minute before trying to get his attention.

“This effigy… what did it look like?”

Stella closed her eyes to recall it, but the moment she did, a blinding pain struck her mind. She winced with a hiss. “I don’t remember. I’m sorry.”

As her eyes opened, she caught Raphael’s throat bob. Worry rested in the creases of his eyes and forehead. “What else about the room do you remember?”

“There was a dais. The table you were on was at its center, and Layla—” Stella cut herself short.

“Tell me.”

She took a deep breath and reached for his hand. “She was at the foot of the table already dead.”

“You’re sure?”

The steady drip of blood from Layla’s throat and vacant eyes filled her mind’s eye. “I’m sure,” Stella said hoarsely. “There were candles all around the room, and banners on the wall.”

Raphael sat up straighter. “What color were the banners?”

“I think yellow? They were from some kind of heavier fabric.”

He paled. “I know that room. I know where it is.” I do too, if my previous dream is right. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean it was a premonition.”

Stella’s lips parted in disbelief. “How could it not, Raphael? I’ve never stepped foot in the room I just described, but you have. You just said yourself you know it. If it’s not a premonition, then how do you explain that?”

Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled roughly. A small spike of pain rode through her abdomen as he hunched forward. “Because,” he explained quietly, “the demons have found a way to mess with your dreams.”

A special kind of horror spilled through her. One that left her numb and dizzy all at the same time as she stared at Raphael. “ What ?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner. I genuinely forgot about it when I was telling you everything else.” Poignant guilt traveled through their bond

“They messed with my head?” Stella whispered, horror-struck.

Raphael swallowed and nodded. “My best guess is that they were somehow doing it through the rhodiola, but I never confirmed it. I’m sorry.”

“When did you learn about this? How long have you known?”

"I was given instructions to make you dream just before we performed the marking—I didn't follow through with it,” he told her with haste. “But the demons alluded to your possible precognitive abilities before that."

His guilt and her sorrow made for a toxic mixture. Stella took several deep breaths to separate her emotions from Raphael’s. It did little good. Stella didn’t know how to process it. The knowledge hurt worse than knowing he was sent to kill her somehow.

“Stella? Say something, please.”

“What do you want me to say?" Stella exclaimed, full of rising indignation. "How am I supposed to react to that? To move on from that? You know how I've struggled with my mind. You've seen me break down. If they can somehow manipulate my dreams... my mind…” Stella trailed off listlessly, a surge of hopelessness welling up inside her. What hope is there for me?

Raphael’s unwavering fortitude met it head-on. “Every spell and curse has a counter. I will find it and make certain no one can touch your mind again.”

His conviction buoyed her.

“Promise?”

“I swear, by all the Gods above and below.” A shaky exhale broke past her lips as she nodded. Raphael kissed her temple, stroking back her hair to gaze upon her solemnly. “You're not going to like this, but I need to go."

Stella was gobsmacked. “You’re leaving ?”

“Do you truly think what you dreamt was a premonition?"

Her mouth dried as his searching gaze cataloged every flicker of emotion across her face. Stella nodded again; the movement far jerkier than her last. “Then yes. I’m the only one who can reach her, if Layla is where I think she is right now.”

A new kind of panic set in. “You can’t leave.”

“I have to, love. Layla’s in the demon quarter, I’m sure of it,” he said as he exited the bed. “It's located behind a magical forcefield in the Lunar Court. Both of which I have access to, and both, you do not.” Raphael donned his briefs and pants with curt efficiency before striding from the bedroom. He came back in a moment later with her mantel clock in hand. “Can I trust this time? It says it’s 11:15.” He gave it a shake. “Now it says 11:14.”

“Don’t do that then!” Exasperation swept through her. “And for the love of the Gods, don’t go .”

There was a thought dangling at the back of her head. A detail trying to wiggle its way forward, leaving Stella with the firm impression that he couldn’t go or it would cost him dearly. Her eyes darted to his bandaged abdomen. Red spots checkered the cloth over his wound. A phantom pain started to make its presence more known on her side.

“You’re hurt,” she argued.

“I can last a while longer. I need to grab a weapon or two from my room, but then I can be down in the demon quarter by noon if I go now.” Stella eyed him as if he was crazy, and a knowing flush sprang onto his cheeks. “I know forty-five minutes is a lot, but I can’t exactly run with this.” He gestured to his side. "I'll have to rebandage it too."

The phantom throbbing grew a little more intense.

“Noon?” She repeated dumbly.

That’s too late . The thought appeared in Stella’s mind unbidden. It took her off guard at first until the words settled and unlocked the wayward detail hiding in her head.

All it took was a magical trip wire… The setup wasn’t even completed until quarter to midnight or so.

You could have gotten away with it… You could have saved Layla…

It’s the littlest details that make the biggest impact…

Her horror stole her voice for several long seconds. “But...” Stella choked, unsure of what to say that would make Raphael stay. He would do anything for Layla, even risk his own life. A lump grew in Stella’s throat.

Now that their soulmark bond was complete, would he choose Stella’s life over hers? She didn’t know if she wanted the answer.

“But what, love?"

"What about... Irina?”

“What about her?” Raphael set the mantle clock on her dresser and reached down for his shirt. Stella winced at the action, her hand drifting to her side.

“They’re going to try reversing her curse at midnight.”

Raphael put on his shirt, being more mindful of his wound. “Midnight tonight?”

“Yes, and we have to go,” Stella insisted.

A dark eyebrow rose. “Love, I don’t think they’ll want me there.”

“We have to explain everything to them as soon as possible,” Stella argued passionately. Raphael’s other eyebrow raised. “It will go over better if you’re there with me. To explain everything in detail and answer their questions.”

Raphael’s eyebrows lowered, then lowered some more as his expression drifted into an apologetic frown. Stella scooted to the middle of the bed as Raphael came over to her side. He joined her on the bed, sitting near the edge with one leg hanging off.

One of his hands found hers and threaded their fingers together.

“I can’t go with you, Stella. Not right away at least. I fear Layla isn’t in her right head at the moment because of Kat’s influence. She’s more likely to run straight into trouble than away from it.” Raphael ducked his head and swiped a hand through his hair. His anxiety prickled through their bond, leaving her more on edge. “I need to get to her as soon as I can.”

“But—”

He raised their joined hands and placed a featherlight kiss on the back of her hand.

“I swear to make it all up to you. My past behavior. Leaving you tonight. But please, don’t make me choose. I’ve fought too long and hard to keep her safe, Stella. If what you say is true and the Vranas might take me in because of you… maybe they’ll consider taking Layla too.”

He placed another kiss on the back of her hand, and Stella knew there was nothing to say to make him stay. To choose her over his sister. Telling him the details she’d only just remembered would no doubt cement his decision to go. She bit the inside of her cheek.

Which meant she needed to lie.

As he released her hand after another whispered apology pressed against her skin, Stella’s mind raced. Her gaze wandered around the room as she poured over ideas. Then her eyes landed on her bedside table and the half-filled mug of tea. She licked her lips as crazed inspiration struck.

“I understand. At least have a drink or something before you go.”

A rush of relief swept through the bond. Stella hoped it masked her anxiety. “That’s an excellent idea, love.”

“You can finish my tea from earlier.”

Raphael scoffed and he lent his voice a teasing air as he replied, “Cold tea? You can’t be bothered to heat the kettle for me?”

"It’s not cold,” Stella countered as she snatched up the mug. “River spelled all my mugs a long time ago to keep the liquids warm.”

He offered her a smile and took the mug. Despite the straight face she kept glued on, her pulse spiked. Raphael eyed her quizzically.

“Is something wrong?”

“What? No.”

He shot her a dubious look at the speed of her answer. “Stella, I can feel you, remember?”

She flushed. “I’m just nervous. I don’t want you to go. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Understanding relaxed his features. “I’ll be careful,” Raphael promised. He took a casual sip of the tea and made an appreciative noise before finishing it off. “It is still warm.” Raphael’s voice trailed off in a slur, and a frown shifted onto his face. His gaze went unfocused, and he cleared his throat. “Stella...”

In the next instant, his eyes closed, and his head fell forward, followed by the rest of his torso. Stella grabbed him before he could topple onto his face and steered him to lay flat on his back. The mug fell from his lax grip. She took it and placed it back on her bedside table.

“I’m sorry,” Stella said as she lifted his dangling leg onto the bed and placed a kiss on his brow.

She backed away from him gradually, waiting to see if he might wake suddenly. When he didn’t, she rushed to dress, glancing anxiously at the mantel clock.

Time wasn’t on her side. She had about twenty minutes to go down to the sixth subfloor, make her way into the Lunar Court, and find Layla. Not to mention do it all before Raphael woke up. She paused to catch her breath, surprised to find herself slightly panting.

A new wave of anxiety rippled through her. Stella didn’t know if he would sleep for thirty minutes.

If Raphael stayed true to his plan, he would make his way downstairs to find Layla, no matter what upon waking. By that time—whenever that time was—the trip wire would be activated. She began to pace in tight circles.

“Shit,” she muttered.

She needed Raphael to go upstairs to the Vranas first. That way she’d have more time to get into the Lunar Court and find Layla. But how ?

The idea that came to her was hardly foolproof, but it was the best she could come up with in such a short amount of time. Stella darted into the main room and located a scrap of paper and pencil. She jotted down a quick note and returned to the bedroom.

Raphael was still fast asleep. She placed the note in his hand and gently folded his fingers around it.

“Please don’t hate me for this.”

And then Stella went to the clock on her dresser. She pushed the minute hand forward until it read 11:40. Knowing its mechanics, it would take a minimum of fifteen minutes or more for the hand to rise to 11:50. With the clock playing in her favor and her note to Raphael she might have the time she needed to pull off her task.

The final act of her plot was to close off their bond. It was more difficult than the times before the binding, but with focus, she felt a wall come up between them. Stella breathed a small sigh as she backed out of the room; one lingering thought giving her the courage to play knight in shining armor one last time.

The devil’s in the details.

“Fuck,” Raphael groaned as he awoke. His head felt like it was wrapped in layer upon layer of muslin. “Stella?” He squinted and gazed about the room. The cloud of sleep wafted away. “Stel—”

Something crinkled in his hand as he sat up. He opened his palm to find a piece of paper.

Went to the Vranas to ask for backup for you. Meet me when you wake, they’ll be expecting you. Please don’t be mad.

“Shit.”

Raphael shoved the note in his pocket and then buried his head in his hands as he released another curse. She was trying to force his hand.

It was a damned good effort.

Maybe I can make it down right away and then go up. Raphael's gaze darted to the mantel clock he left on her dresser.

“Shit!”

He leaped from the bed and nearly fell to his knees as pain seized with pain. Waves of hot pain throbbed from his wound. Raphael gritted his teeth against it. When the worst of it passed, he stiffly walked to her dresser. The clock read 11:54.

Raphael tried to remember when he passed out, but the knowledge evaded him. He cursed and finished dressing in record time. This time, far more mindful of his wound as he bent to put his socks and shoes on.

Belatedly, he thought of his connection with Stella and breathed out a sigh of frustration mingled with panic. She would have experienced the pain too. Would she have fallen to her knees in front of the Vranas in pain? Or merely hinged over at the sudden burst of fire in her side? He grimaced.

Before, it was perfectly acceptable for the Vranas to hold a measure of displeasure for him. His previous plan relied on it for their disdain and forced tolerance was another wedge to drive between them and Jax. Now? He needed the Vranas’ support and protection, and harming their newest family member wasn’t going to score him any points.

“Damn it all to hell.”

Raphael opened his eyes and focused on tampering down the soulmark bond from his end to shield her from his pain. He was mostly certain he’d done so, picturing a vice squeezing and closing off their bond.

He left her apartment with his feet leading him to the grand stairway to ascend to the Vranas as fast as he could stand.

Raphael was a touch breathless by the time he reached the Vranas door with an irritating stitch in his side. He rapped his knuckles against the dark wood, scanning the hall and catching sight of a pair of redheads. The women eyed him as they passed. Raphael offered what he hoped was a charming smile—

“What are you doing here?”

Nova’s voice brought his head swirling back to face front. “Um.” He cast a harried look over his shoulder, waiting for the Roux vampyrés to disappear down the staircase. “I’m here for Irina’s… thing .”

“Why?”

Raphael mirrored Nova’s frown. “Because of Stella? She’s expecting me to be here.” He was tempted to whip out her note but refrained. Nova’s lips pursed in displeasure, but she opened the door wider for him to enter.

“Just so you’re aware. We might not be doing Irina’s thing tonight after all.” Nova informed him as she led the way inside. Raphael’s steps slowed as he heard a female voice shout from up ahead. They slowed even more as a thundering male response rang over the female's shouting.

A male who sounded an awful lot like Jax and a female who was undoubtedly Ruby.

“Er, where is Stella?”

Nova shrugged and glanced back at him. “Probably upstairs.”

Trepidation toyed with Raphael’s nerves. He tentatively loosened the vice he’d put about their bond, searching for Stella’s light and warmth. None greeted him. Raphael came to a stop a few feet from the main sitting room’s entrance. Jax’s voice was still raging for dominance and growing more heated. Raphael spied his cane leaning against the entryway wall; the ruby eyes of the jackal head stared him down.

“Are you coming?” Nova asked with exasperation. She gestured to the left up ahead. Raphael knew the path would lead them to the inner staircase of the apartment suite. He also knew to reach it they’d have to briefly cross through the sitting room where two tempers raged in battle. Tempers he knew could easily be directed at him.

Now get the hell out of my lab, and don’t let me see your face again.

Raphael repressed the flinch that came with the memory of Jax’s last words to him.

“Isn’t there another way to get upstairs? I’d hate to interrupt their disagreement.”

Nova turned fully to face him. “Why are you acting weird?”

“I’m not,” Raphael replied tersely, “but I have no desire to insert myself into whatever that is.”

She frowned at him. “Isn’t he your best and only friend, or something like that?” The pointed crossing of her arms and dubious regard made Raphael bristle.

He opened his mouth to deliver a waspish retort but found himself stopping short. His shoulders sank. “We’re not on good terms at the moment,” he confessed with difficulty.

Nova’s regard narrowed further, but she said nothing.

“Will you take me to Stella already?”

“You’re the one who wanted a different way to avoid your lover’s spat,” she jeered, but her salty expression faded as a distinctive crack sounded in Ruby’s voice. Nova’s head whipped in its direction, and Raphael watched her throat bob. “Come on then.” Her voice was devoid of its earlier heat.

Nova left the safety of the entryway hall with another forlorn sigh, turning left immediately. Raphael steeled his nerve and followed suit, now eager to stay on her heels for the short interim pass to the stairs.

He cringed at the way Nova slowed when Ruby’s voice came about again. They were mere feet away from slipping out of sight and up the stairs. If they—

“What the hell are you doing here? I thought I told you I never wanted to see your face again.”