My vomit rained down as I clung to the curtain, splattering an already bloodstained stage. The living moaned in agony and army-crawled through the carnage, desperate to be out of your reach. Others were glassy-eyed and staring up at the ceiling. My mind was spiraling away from me. I shut my eyes and sangRow, Row, Row Your Boatas loud as I could to drown out the noise—feet sloshing through puddles of blood, a knife being sunk into flesh, your grunts of exertion. Death sounds all around. They came from inside my mind. The smell of fear, excrement, and intestines choked me and made my eyes water. I was swimming in it.
Just when I thought I’d pass out from terror and adrenaline, the lights in the room came on full force, momentarily blinding everyone in a bewildered stupor. Men and women in tactical gear funneled in through the windows and doors. They swarmed the stage like a black tide of insects.
I found you in the center of a throng of bodies, still trying to carve your way through. An ear-shattering noise pierced the hall, so loud and shrill I had to plug my ears.
Then, I slipped and fell.
45
Henri
Irecognized the shrill of a Clamor and looked skyward in time to see you lose your grip on the curtain. The sound broke all enchantments, including Lena and Lucian’s mudra seductions. My attackers dropped their weapons, as did I, in order to catch you before you hit the floor.
Your body was limp in my arms. I lay you down on the slick ground and checked your breathing and pulse. My hands and the grips of my blades were slick with gore. When in battle, my mind went into a kind of fog, and my body operated on instinct. Now, I surveyed the carnage surrounding us. Imperium soldiers were making quick work of the demons, binding their spirits to their vessels before they could escape and sorting through the humans to administer to survivors.
A few of the medics I recognized as fellow bloodborns, recruited to deal with injuries of the demonic nature, and wore large bags of blood strapped to their backs. I hoped I’d not mortally wounded many humans. I’d tried to show restraint, but it was difficult to judge demon from man when they were armed and attacking.
The servants in my mother’s keep raised themselves slowly from the floor, staring at each other as if waking from a nightmare, while the screams of demon and human alike echoed throughout the hall.
As for my mother and brother, they were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they’d had a premonition the Imperium was closing in and managed to flee. That didn’t mean you were safe. My mother would send her minions to collect you. No matter where you ran or how well I hid you, your souls were bound, and she would find you. Unless…
Our only hope lay with Azrael. That he could annul the trade and break the bond so that we might escape her wrath. I’d hide you away and protect you. Forever, if I must.
“Henri,” you said as your eyes slowly blinked, and you stared at me with a dazed expression. “Please tell me that was all a dream.”
I kissed your golden forehead, leaving behind a smudge of blood. Despite being surrounded by gore, I had no desire to feed. I was sickened by what I’d been made to do.
“It wasn’t, cucciolo.”
You closed your eyes and sighed. Your voice was barely more than a whisper when you said, “I’m so sorry, Henri. I never would have agreed to this if I’d known she’d make you do that.”
I held you close. There would be time for this kind of talk later. “Let’s get you out of here.”
I lifted you from the floor, intending to deliver you from this wretched place altogether, when I was stopped by one of the soldiers.
“Azrael will be arriving soon.” She pointed in the direction of our bedroom, intending for us to wait.
“And your people will be here for security?” I’d not risk Lena or Lucian returning to claim you.
She gestured to all of the bodies on the floor, a perturbed look on her face. “This will take a while.”
“I want a guard at our door and one at every window. No one gets in or out, including my human. And I want their markings showing at all times.”
Every Imperium soldier had a symbol of two overlapping diamonds branded on their skin to prove their legitimacy and authority. I’d not allow any imposters in our midst.
By this point you were clinging to me as a bear cub to its mother. I didn’t think you could endure any more trauma that night, so I carried you into our former room, now devoid of servants and replaced by grim-faced soldiers who avoided my gaze as if I were touched by the plague. I’d shed a lot of blood and slain a lot of demons. To speak nothing of my sordid reputation, it seemed that was all they needed to form an opinion.
I unstrapped your golden harness and helped remove your dance belt. I thought back to when I’d fantasized about swapping oil for paint with you, but in our present condition, it didn’t seem so appealing. I asked you to assist me with the buckles on my breastplate, which you did with shaking hands. Despite my gentle murmurings, I worried that at any moment you’d succumb to shock.
There was a grate next to the bath, and with a washcloth and flexible nozzle, I succeeded in removing most of the paint and blood from our bodies. You moved listlessly, with your eyes half-closed as though sleepwalking. In the bath, your limbs became completely unresponsive, which told me you were shutting down. I washed away the remaining paint and tried to revive you with a gentle massage. Perhaps your deadened reaction was because you were revolted by seeing me as the monster I was. Your mind was trying to protect you from the reality of what we’d just experienced. I’d done this to you, damaged your psyche and your soul.
“Talk to me, Orlando.”
“You killed so many people,” you remarked numbly.
“Demons, mostly.” But not all.
“Lena made you do it.”
