“It’s good to see some things never change, even after millennia,” Ereshkygall chimes in, amused by our exchange.
“Shall we, ladies?” Killian asks, extending his hands for us to grab. I lace my fingers with his, just as Ereshkigal places her hand in his, and the shadows swirl around instantly. The winter hellscape melts away in a blanket of comforting darkness, and we emerge in Killian’s study, a fire crackling in the hearth.
Ereshkygall steps into the center of the room, drinking it in slowly with her eyes, cataloging the rows upon rows of ancient tomes, the heavy cherry wood desk, and the paintings hanging on the walls. She does not say a word, but observes everything with the keen eye of a historian.
Killian’s double forms from the twirling shadows, awaiting his commands.
“Go find Blaise with haste. Bring himhere, and the Fae female.”
Shadow Killian nods, and he disintegrates and vanishes through the crack between the door and the floor. As he leaves, my own shadows jump from my skin, chasing to join him.
“Why do I feel our shadows will find the first dark corner to fuck each other into oblivion?”
“I’m sure they will, little umbra,” Killian snickers. “Hopefully, after they convey my message to Blaise.”
“Truly, some things remain the same,” Ereshkygall whispers under her breath, shaking her head in pretend vexation.
“Our shadows, were they acting like thisbeforetoo?” I ask, curious to find out more about our previous selves.
“Let’s just say there was not one single member of the inner circle that hadn’t stumbled upon your doubles lost in the throes of passion on at least one occasion.”
My cheeks redden in mortification even though I don’t remember any of these so-called inner circle members.
“So, wait a minute here. You’re telling me you’re Akaori and Aeon’s reincarnations?” Blaise asks in bewilderment. His gaze keeps jumping from me to Killian, to Ereshkygall and back.
“You are Aeon,” he says, pointing a finger my way before turning it toward Killian. “Andyou’reAkaori?”
We nod, and his ensuing laughter booms through the chamber, ricocheting off the stone walls. Next to him, Sariah’s expression is guarded, and there is not even an ounce of shock in her pale-blue eyes.
She knew.The realization hits me harder than expected, but I don’t get the chance to voice my suspicions, as Blaise recovers from his fit of laughter, needling Killian further.
“Should I start calling yousisterinstead?” he asks, and I swear Killian’s temple throbs in annoyance. “Tell me, who wears the…”
“Blaise, I swear to myself that if that sentence ends in pants and relationship, I will tear your tongue from your stupid mouth and feed it to the vermin crawling the crypts,” Killian seethes, baring his fangs.
That shuts him up as he deflates, moving his mirthful gaze from us to Ereshkygall.
“And you’re not really a Goddess, but the second vampire ever created?”
Ereshkygall only nods, not having spoken much since Blaise and Sariah entered the room. She keeps studying them, as she was doing with the room earlier, humming softly to herself, as if she’s pondering something.
“Pity,” Blaise chortles, “I was looking forward to meeting a deity. Had some questions about the meaning of life and whatnot.”
“I was half expecting you to aim at flirting your way into a Goddess’ undergarments,” I say, only half joking.
“Oh no, I already crossed that off my goblet list,” he answers with a knowing smirk, throwing a glance at Sariah, and she immediately reacts, swatting him over the head.
“Ouch. I guess I deserved that.”
My eyes widen in realization, and I’m itching to get Sariah alone and make her spill the truth. Did she succumb to a certain rake’s charm that she swore she would never fall for just days prior?
“It’s an honor to meet you, Ereshkygall,” Sariah says solemnly, changing the subject.
“The honor’s all mine, Sariah of the Haelstrom bloodline.”
“Haelstrom?” I ask at the same time as Blaise.
“My great-great-grandfather’s name,” she answers.
