Page 5 of Until the Heart Stops (The Oylen City #1)

T he third gift arrived with a female vampire.

It was the very next night after the second had arrived and Noah had met with me on the edges of the market as he was getting off patrol.

The deep cuts across his throat and hands were now a pinkish blue instead of the black they’d been only this morning when I’d applied the salve on the edges of the river.

The infection from the venefica’s claws had all but disappeared.

“What if you took this night to rest?” he murmured, hands behind his back, the black of the uniform of the Vyenurs shifting as he ducked beneath a low awning. “There are two more doses left from the phial.”

I frowned. The potion he took to tamp down his demon magic was not particularly safe and I knew it made his skin itch.

Noah’s kind had been here long before humans ever traveled to these shores.

No one knew if the Vyenurs appeared because of the venefica or if they evolved alongside one another, but they had been locked into the constant battle of hunt or be hunted for millennia.

The Covenant had taken advantage of that, supplying those who served them with weapons and stipends.

Almost half of the Vyenurs within Oylen was under their command, though the hold they had on the demons was tenuous at best. Those who bent the knee to the Covenant benefitted with their access to healing potions and better weapons. Those who didn’t?

Well, there was a reason I’d been considering selling things in order to get Noah healing salves.

No matter what potion he took, it was clear what Noah was from the demon sigil marked across his light-brown skin. Each Vyenur had one and Noah’s had appeared in the center of his brow: a series of interlocking circles hidden beneath his unruly dark hair. But the sign was clear as if burned there.

“What if you took the night to rest?” I countered, rubbing a hand over my face. Sleep had eluded me and tonight would be a long one with Eamon booked to see Adrienne. “You’re the one who lost half their guard only a few nights ago.”

I regretted the words the moment I spoke them.

Noah’s expression, which always carried a gentle smile, cracked while his throat bobbed with a swallow.

Vyenur demons were immortal, as in they could not succumb to old age or sickness, and they were stronger even than vampires who could die by the sun or fire.

The only thing that could destroy a Vyenur was the one thing they fought: venefica .

If too much of their venom got into their bloodstream, they could be dead in days, minutes even, if it pierced their heart.

He’d lost friends he’d known for centuries.

And though they did not typically mourn their dead, as they would soon be reborn with a new life, the loss stung.

Noah was only three hundred—practically a teenager to his commanders—and a few they’d lost the other day had been alive for over a millennium. Gone in an instant.

None of us were strangers to grief.

I slipped my arm through his and rested my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I spoke carelessly.”

His sigh was soft and, though the tension didn’t ease from his limbs, he tilted his head down to touch mine. “Thank you.”

My stall came into view and I sighed. He was right, I was tired.

And to top it all, tomorrow night Eamon would hold his monthly ball now that he was home from one of his many trips and the shop would be closed with all the other blood dens.

It was an ancient vampire tradition to hold a feast on the full moon of each month.

Thousands of years ago a feast would have meant a blood orgy and a pile of dead bodies come morning.

These days, however, it merely meant a luxurious ball complete with the synthetic blood the Covenant had developed to satiate the masses.

“What do you need?” I asked as I brought down the wards and tucked my dagger back into its hidden holster in my corset.

Noah’s sigh was as heavy as my own. He raked his hair back from his face, the demon sign catching the light of the fires crackling every few stalls or so, before he ran the same hand down over his face.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he answered in a voice so soft I barely heard it.

He didn’t need to say anything else, and I knew he would not want empty platitudes or offers. Instead, I drew back the velvet curtain, dipped into Liam’s parlor where he hosted his clients complete with a game table, and dragged one of the plush stools out, setting it beside my own.

Noah shrugged off his dark red jacket to reveal the black tunic beneath and settled on the stool. “Should I…? ”

He trailed off. Vyenurs and vampires generally got along, but there was something about Vyenur magic that set a vampire on edge.

Humans were generally unaffected by it, but I knew the magic running through his veins was as ancient as it was dark.

An aspect of it called to the primal part of vampires which, depending on the individual, could make them much more dangerous.

It was why he chose to take the magic suppressant when he worked the booth.

We didn’t want a vampire who felt on edge feeding on Adrienne or Liam.

I reached beneath the counter and drew out the phial, handing it to him.

Noah downed it in one and shivered. The sigil on his brow burned bright for a moment as the potion took effect.

Finally, his shoulders relaxed a bit more and the hint of his usual smile returned as he dragged the ledger closer to him and I batted his hands away.

“Don’t, your mathematics is terrible,” I quipped.

His thick black brows rose and he pointed a finger at himself. “ My math is terrible? I’ve been alive for three hundred and twenty years more than you.”

“And the one time you balanced the ledger?—”

“That was one time!”

“—you ruined my accounting for a month!”

The delicate sound of a throat clearing stopped whatever retort Noah had. A female vampire waited at the counter, a few tendrils of black hair blowing in the breeze as she tapped her sharp nails against the wood with one hand.

“I agree with the witch,” she purred at Noah, green eyes bright. “You sound terrible at mathematics.”

Noah gaped at the vampire, his attention running from the slope of her nose down to the extravagant green silks beneath her black cloak. I grinned and stood while pressing three fingers to my mouth. “ Serang lan nauth, my lady. And yes, you are quite right.”

Her blood-red lips pulled into an answering smile, one fang glinting in the light. “I usually am. Are you Mademoiselle Searah?”

I smoothed my hands over the ledger. “I am.”

She reached inside the cloak, procuring a small scroll atop a flat silver box. “A gentleman bade me deliver this to you.”

Instead of putting it in my hand, she placed it on the counter and turned back to Noah, assessing him in the way I’d seen others assess a piece of meat. He continued to gape and I reached to press it closed with the heel of my hand. “A gentleman? You saw him?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she hummed, raising a sleek brow at Noah, who shook himself.

“You know this male?” I pressed, gesturing to the box.

Her fingernails tapped against the counter and her attention slid back to me. “You know, I was a bit put out at first when he asked me to do this errand for him. But now”—she turned back to Noah and shot him a wink—“I’m beginning to see the advantages.”

The parchment taunted me from atop the box, the black seal smooth as obsidian. “Who is he?”

Around us other vampires were dipping into competing blood dens, but the female before me was garnering much attention from her fellow blood drinkers.

A few had even stopped to point her out before dipping beneath awnings and out of sight.

But she appeared not to notice, or care, only pushed the box a little closer.

“Read the note, I want to see what it says.”

I huffed, undeterred, but plucked up the parchment and broke the seal .

It is said that in the blood there are no secrets.

That in blood there is the beginning and the end.

But those who say that must have never seen your eyes,

or caught even a whisper of your scent.

With a frown I placed the parchment to the side, only for the female to snatch it up and read it before letting out a small chuckle. The silver box was similar to the others I’d received and, when I pulled off the lid, a similar black satin was nestled within.

But there, in the middle, was the silver necklace I’d seen only last night, the teardrop ruby winking at me as if sharing a secret.

“Merciful goddess…” I breathed.

Noah appeared to come back to himself as I pulled the chain from the box, weighing the stone in my hand.

It was heavier than I expected and a strange sort of magic shimmered around it, though it was not imposing or threatening.

Instead, it merely felt comforting, like the warmth of a blanket around my shoulders.

“Is this gentleman of the…nighttime persuasion, my lady?” he asked, his voice a low gravel I rarely heard.

The female tilted her head to the side. “Perhaps.”

“It’s too much.” I placed the necklace back in the box and slid it to her. “Please, return it to your friend with my thanks, but I cannot accept this.”

Her lips parted in surprise even as her grin grew wider. “Oh, no, I can’t do that. But I’d be happy to deliver him a response if you’d like.”

A response. I looked around while Noah pulled a slip of parchment from the back of the ledger and found one of the inkpots the gentleman had provided .

“Don’t hold back,” the female purred. “I do love to watch men squirm.”

Dear Sir,

I apologize for the improper beginning of this letter, but as you did not provide me with your name, I am unable to address you accordingly.