Page 14 of Queen of the Crimson Throne (Queen of Blood and Stardust #2)

14

LUKA

I paced around my room, my boots wearing a path in the rug.

I felt guilty about how I had treated Lennox after she begged me to leave the market without talking to the witch Scribe.

I understood her hesitancy, I didn’t doubt she had a bad feeling about the witch, but that didn’t mean I still didn’t want to talk to her.

After weeks of searching, this was the closest I had gotten and I turned around at the command of two little words.

Luka, please.

It wasn’t often Lennox asked for things nicely, and I was in the habit of giving her what she wanted.

Which is why it was so Stars damned frustrating she wouldn’t let me talk to her. I was doing this all for her, didn’t she get that? This was all for her freedom.

I’d be damned if I let anyone stand in the way of that.

Even Lennox.

Fuck it.

I strapped my sword to my back and took off out the door.

If I had been thinking clearly I would have asked Nico or Delcan to accompany me back to the market, but I didn’t want to waste any more time than I already had.

The sun was already setting, casting the market in a dim light. Hiding everything in shadows.

I could have come back tomorrow, in the daylight, but what if the witch Scribe was already gone? I couldn’t risk it.

When I finally arrived back at the witches’ block I expected to find her packing up, as most of the other stall owners were, but there she sat, surrounded by piles of books, arms crossed over her thin frame, her eyes firmly fixed on me.

“I knew you’d be back, vampire. I could see it in your eyes before.” I approached her table without hesitating. “Your companion was smart to warn you away earlier. Witches don’t mix well with vampires, no matter what the half-breed witch might try to convince you otherwise.”

“Don’t talk about your high queen like that,” I all but growled.

A feline smile spread on her porcelain face, alighting her upturned eyes. “So the rumors are true, she does have you wrapped around her gilded finger.” I ignored her comment, instead directing my attention toward what I needed from her.

“Do you have the Goddess’s spellbook in your possession?”

If she was surprised by my inquisition she didn’t show it, she only blinked at me. “What does a vampire want with a book like that?” Isn’t that the golden question?

“It’s not for me, I need to find it for someone else.”

She tapped a long black nail on the book in front of her. “The answer will cost you.”

“I’ll pay whatever price you ask.” My previous witch scar burned under her stare.

“My answers don’t come at such an easy price.”

“I don’t care, I need that book.”

“Stupid boy.” I bristled under the name, the witch couldn’t be more than a few years older than I .

“My price is linking my life to yours.”

“What?”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, her dark eyes gleaming. “I will complete a spell that will bind our lives together. How else do you propose I appear this young? I have lived many lives, boy. Each one runs into the next as the last one comes to pass. I never know when the current life I live within will expire, I like to keep souls ready.” My stomach soured. How many lives had this female lived? How many Fae had tied their lives to hers? Was I stupid to consider tying my life to hers as well?

It must have taken a special kind of magic to link lives together. An unnatural kind of magic. That must be why Lennox had been so uneasy. Whatever kind of magic this witch Scribe practiced wasn’t natural.

“So, boy, what will it be?” She tapped her nails impatiently. Every instinct in me warned against saying yes. Even my magic, which had been oddly quiet this entire time, was now rioting inside me. I should say no. I could find another way.

The image of Lennox’s face in the dining room back in Alethens flashed to the forefront of my mind. The way she had tried to hide her hurt when she realized she was going to have to marry me…

I knew how much she valued the choice of who she married. I wouldn’t be the one to take it from her. I would do anything to give her back this choice. Even if it meant tying my life to this witch.

I looked up, meeting the witch’s onyx eyes, her piercing gaze sending a shiver down my spine.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

The smile that spread across her face chilled my veins.

“I’ll enjoy living your days, vampire.” She held out a perfectly smooth hand, not a wrinkle in sight. “Give me your palm.” I pulled my arm back as she reached for it.

“On one condition.” The witch frowned disapprovingly. “If I’m doing something so dramatic as tying my life to yours, I want more than only your help finding the spellbook.”

The witch considered my counter. “You get three questions.”

“Deal.”

“Now hand me your palm.” Hesitantly, I gave her my hand, she turned it over, examining the lines crossing it, running the tip of her nail over the lines.

“Hmmm—” she mused. “It’s unclear how many years I’ll get from you.”

“You can see how long I’ll live by examining my palm?”

“Sometimes, but not always. Your markings are clear, but you have the tellings of both living a long life and a short-lived one.” A shiver wracked my body. “Your future is unclear, yet to be decided it seems. Interesting.” She tapped her nail against my palm.

The words Hecate spoke to Lennox and me those months ago floated into my mind. Maybe this was related to the path of light and dark she had talked about. Perhaps my lifespan was linked to each of those paths. I—I couldn’t consider that now. I had far greater worries than how long I would live. All that mattered was getting Lennox out of this marriage.

The witch Scribe drew a small dagger from the pouch at her side, not at all surprised by the sight of the blade. I was all too familiar with witch magic now and the need to bind it with blood. She drew a precise slice over the lines crossing the center of my hand. I winced against the sting.

Red blood pooled in my palm as her hand cradled mine.

She discarded the dagger on the table and searched for her pouch again, this time retrieving a small vial. The sun had all but disappeared now, making it impossible to see the contents. She uncapped the bottle with her teeth, spitting the cap on the table before shaking the contents onto my bleeding palm. The substance came out in flakes, causing a sting as it mixed with my blood .

“Close your fist,” she instructed, finally letting go of my hand, only to repeat the process on her own palm. When she was finished, she grasped my hand again, motioning me to open it. As I did she pressed our bleeding hands together and mumbled under her breath.

The air around us seemed to still, the chatter of the market silenced as if we were the only two people remaining.

My skin that touched hers burned as she continued to speak the spell in a language I was unable to comprehend. The burning intensified, seeming to seep its way into my blood and into my veins, spreading the heat and burn throughout my body. I winced under the pressure, so intense it threatened to take my legs out from underneath me.

The witch’s voice became more urgent as I gritted my teeth against the pain. What the fuck was this magic?

In an instant, the pain stopped. The sounds around us returned and the witch opened her eyes, removing her hand from mine.

A wicked grin spread across her ageless face. “It is done.”

I swallowed and looked at my palm, the line she had sliced across now bore a black mark that glittered red as I moved it against the moonlight. “It will disappear in a couple of days.” I’d have to hide it from Lennox until then. She’d gladly slice my neck for coming back here.

When I looked back at the witch, she had all but dismissed me, returning to packing her books.

“What about my questions?”

“Ask away, boy.”

“Where can I find the goddess Astria’s original spellbook?”

The witch didn’t bother to look from her books as she answered, “No such thing exists.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t exist? There are people across Lethenia searching for it!”

“Astria never had a spellbook, she was never truly a witch, she was a fallen star, so she never needed spells. Her magic has no restrictions as spells do.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense, what is it that everyone is looking for?”

“I cannot tell you what your seeker is truly looking for, but I can tell you there is an original spellbook, but it does not belong to Astria, it belongs to Hecate, the original witch.”

Well, wouldn’t it have been convenient if the original witch had mentioned that?

“Although, I don’t believe Hecate’s spellbook is what your sender is searching for. I suspect they have discovered Astria kept journals.”

“Journals?”

“Yes, journals. Stories say that’s where Hecate got the idea for the spellbook, from Astria’s detailed retellings of her experiences in her journals.”

“Where can I find these journals?”

“That I do not know.” She flipped through the book in front of her.

“What? All this and you don’t even know where the journals are?” I pressed.

She turned her gaze on me, “Remember who you speak to, boy, I could turn you to ashes with the flick of my fingers.”

“So could I,” I said through clenched teeth.

We stared at one another, neither of us daring to look away first.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “But now that you know they exist, I imagine you could do a spell to find them.” Good thing I knew of a couple of witches who could help me with that.

The Scribe looked up suddenly, her irises burning red. Goddess above— “You should go, boy, something dangerous lurks in the darkness. Something not natural is coming.”

I was about to question what she was talking about when my magic lit up inside me, churning viciously. Maybe it was still a reaction to her, or maybe it was something else. Either way, I wasn’t going to wait around to find out.

“Thank you,” I told the witch before turning back down the street at a quick pace.

I continued making my way back out of the market, only a few vendors remained, the rest having closed up shop long ago.

How long had I been with the witch Scribe?

As I continued to make my way through the winding streets, the hairs on the back of my neck raised.

I had the distinct feeling I was being followed.

I knew it was risky to travel alone to this part of Cel Nox at this time of night. I only hoped I wouldn’t pay for my stupidity. I took a random turn down an alley, hoping to brush them off my scent if they were in fact, following me.

I wasn’t familiar enough with this part of the city to use my enhanced speed, the streets were too close together. I’d have to stop every few feet to ensure I didn’t run into anything. Once I got back to the main part of the city I’d have a clear shot back to the palace.

But as I returned to the main road, the feeling continued. Fuck.

I decided to risk it. I used my speed, stopping a few feet ahead, before moving again.

Still, the presence followed.

A rancid smell filled my nostrils as I continued and a rustling sound filled my ears as I approached the entrance to an alley. I should have continued forward, I was almost at the stretch where I would be home free to the palace, but I looked down the alley.

A form cast in shadows was bent over a body lying in ribbons on the ground. Blood pooled around them, dripping down the cobblestones and the stench—that was where the smell was coming from. I covered my nose with the back of my hand .

I needed to get out of here. There was no saving whoever that was.

I backed down the alley, unable to look away from the scene before me. I stumbled, catching myself on the side of the building as my foot hit a crate. Causing the person to look over their shoulder at me.

No.

Not a person.

A creature or something. I didn’t know what this thing was. Something not natural. The witch Scribe had said. This was certainly not natural.

Its body resembled a Fae, but it was all wrong. They were all skin and bones and long, gangly limbs. Even under the dark light, I could tell they were not alive, or not fully alive anymore. Their skin was the ashen color of a corpse. Had they somehow been brought back to life?

A growl left the creature’s lips as it surveyed me. Giving me only a moment’s notice before it bounded towards me.

I ran.

Even as I ran away from the creature, its smell followed me. It reeked of death and decay.

I used my enhanced speed, appearing at the end of an alley instead of the street. Fuck.

I cursed as I came to a dead end. In an instant, the creature was on me. Its long nails dug into my back as it leaped for me, pushing me to the ground. A groan fell from my lips as I landed on the bricks.

I rolled to my back and kicked my legs out, hitting the creature in the chest, pushing it back an inch, giving me the space I needed to reach for my sword at my back.

Blood spilled from the creature’s lips from its last victim, landing in droplets on my face. He hissed as its claws ripped into my side, exposing the irregularly long fangs protruding from its mouth. I gritted my teeth against the pain in my side as I kicked again, this time pushing the creature back far enough so I could roll out from under it.

I rose to a crouch as the creature turned its attention back on me, its eyes were hollowed and rimmed in red. Its pupils wholly black. Whatever in the goddess name this thing was, it needed to die right fucking now.

The creature charged towards me again, flashing those impossibly long fangs and claws.

With one swift arc of my sword, the creature’s head fell from its neck. Black rotted blood spurting me in the process.

I didn’t care to stay and see if the thing was dead.

The wound in my side wasn’t healing. I could feel my blood staining my clothes.

I needed to get back to the palace before I was unable to move.

I resheathed my sword and pressed my hand to my side, gritting my teeth against the pain.

I used the last bit of strength I had to propel myself back to the palace, to get myself back home.

I received many looks as I deposited myself at the gates, but I didn’t stop there. I moved through the halls until I landed in front of a large wooden door. I pounded my fist against the door several times before I slipped down the wall, tumbling in a heap against the door frame.

I banged my head against the wall over and over again. I hoped and prayed it would open before I passed out. Dark spots danced in my vision. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. But it was too late for that. I doubted I could move again.

After what felt like hours, the door finally opened. I slumped against the doorway, somehow managing to tilt my head upwards to spy the female standing before me.

My eyes roamed up the tanned legs blocking my vision, my fingers, despite my current state, itching to run up them to what I knew lay between them, underneath the flimsy nightdress she wore .

When I finally met her gaze, I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Her emotions were too muddled. Or I was too delirious.

“Good evening, Sweetheart.”