He chuckles. “Considering you’re able to become shadow, if liquification could fix what ails you, I suspect you’d be free already.”
I rub my jaw. “It doesn’t work like that. When I’m shadow, everything that is me simply separates, but every part of me still exists.”
“Exactly.” He holds up a finger. “This curse isn’t like a tumor. It can’t be cut out. It’s systemic, a virus.”
“Neither your kind nor mine can catch viruses.”
“Not human ones. But this, this is close.”
“Then how do I cure this virus?” I find myself holding my breath that he has an answer.
Lazarus rubs the back of his head. “I’m afraid it won’t be easy. In humans, their medicines block the receptors in their cells where viruses attach. Hypothetically, in you, a counter curse could do the same, one that goes all the way to your bones and crowds out the Gowdie magic.”
“A counter curse... So, another witch.”
“Or fae. Any other magic-performing creature might be able to do the same if they were strong enough. The problem, of course, aside from finding such a creature, is knowing who to trust. Anyone strong enough to free you, would of course be?—”
“Strong enough to bind me again.”
“Hypothetically.”
“Great.” I groan.
“I’m sorry I don’t have better news for you.”
We stand in companionable silence, breathing in the stale and dusty air. It’s well past dawn now. Fatigue weighs me down. I need to get to bed, but there’s one more thing I feel compelled to ask. “Lazarus, I wonder if you might help me with something else. It’s a particularly difficult bit of research.”
The vampire beams as if I’ve offered him a gift. “I’ll give it my best.”
I lift my hands and command the shadows to form Eloise’s tattoo in the air before him. “I am attempting to find the origins of this sigil. It’s not in any of the modern witch records, but I thought perhaps in one of the older tomes.”
“Where did you see this?” Lazarus asks in wonder. “Interesting. Very interesting.” He rufflesthrough a desk drawer and produces a pen and notepad, creating a quick sketch of the design.
“It was on the back of an ordinary human woman. It struck me as strange.”
“Strange indeed. Some of these symbols are Norse in origin, others Egyptian, Celtic, pagan. The more I look at it, perhaps none of those four. It might predate them all. Are you sure this is an accurate depiction?”
“Positive. I commanded the shadows to record it exactly as it appears.”
Lazarus finishes his sketch and holds it up to check its accuracy. He makes a few adjustments. Once he’s satisfied, I pass a hand through the shadows and erase the design from the air.
“It will take some careful digging. The tomes I think will help are in the basement archives.”
“Take your time. I’m only curious.” I’m not sure why I lie except that I’m still lying to myself. I am far more than curious. If Lazarus confirms she is human and no threat to me, I will take her. I will seduce her and taste her again.
“Understood. Whatever I find, I’ll use it as an excuse to enjoy your company again soon.”
“Thank you, Lazarus. And no excuse is needed.”
“Have a pleasant sleep, Damien.”
I leave the library and travel the few blocks through the empty streets to the simple dwelling where I live. I’m so tired, I don’t even bother unlocking the door but shift into shadow, re-forming on my bed, where I slip into an easy and dreamless sleep. My last thoughts are of Eloise.
11
The Bad Day
ELOISE
