“Master?” he says, awe-struck, trembling.
Of course he is. “I have work for you,” I say.
He bows so low his spine cracks. "Whatever you require, my quintessence."
“My siblings,” I continue, “have eliminated every mage on this miserable plane.”
He nods too fast, eyes bulging. “Yes, yes, Master, they were threats, they—”
“Silence.” He freezes. I circle him once, slowly, like the predator I am.
“There are witches left. Still tied to the old ways. Closer to life, to the rhythms beneath all this noise." My hand waves, and he watches it, awestruck. As he should be. "I need the oldest and the strongest one.”
He gulps. “How… how do I find her?”
“Do Ilooklike your errand boy?” I hiss. “Useblood, under a full moon. Sacrifice a deer. Or a goat. Or your accountant. Idon’tcare. Use the internet. You all have that now, don’t you? Use your resources. I want her name, her face, and her location intwo days.Or I’ll feast on your marrow.”His face drains. I flick a hand, and he’s encased in shimmering light—a bubble of breath and warmth. “Go. To. Work.”
With a thunderclap of displaced water, I hurl him skyward.
And then… silence again. The silence I used to enjoy. I return to the broken remains of my sanctuary and sink to one knee. I can't stand this feeling. She is ingrained in me so deeply that I cannot function without her near me. How did I get this way? I want to be angry, upset, I want to hate her for doing this to me, but all I can think about is crowning her as my queen and placing her next to me on a throne of shadow and blood. I need her. That's when it hits me…she's the one keeping me from falling apart. From slipping back into my old ways.
I close my eyes. I reach—not with magic, not with force, but witheverything else.Ione.My rabbit. My terrible, radiant little storm.
Her face flashes before me. Smiling. Then screaming. Her lips are pale. Her skin wet with fear. She stares at me through the veil—reaching, trembling. Her eyes pierce me like they always have. Always will.
I’m coming, rabbit.
Hold on.
Please.
Chapter thirty-three
Slick Bastard # 2
Ione
Iawakewithastart, holding my stomach that hurts less today as I cough. Ifelthim. Or… I think I did.Athanasius. Like a flicker in the dark. And then—nothing. The morning sun is beginning to creep up along the shoreline. I've been to the window twice in the past 2 days. The sea air is nice. Ambrose says he believes in its healing properties, but fuck Ambrose!
Wiping my eyes, I get up from my bed, my feet touch the floor, and I can actually walk. It hurts, like a bad bruise, but the pain is only there when I move too fast. There's a bathroom connected to my room, and I shower, and dress. Ambrose only has dresses for me, in a variety of purples, his favorite color, I've learned.
As I exit the bathroom, dressed, because I've learned that he comes in when he wants to and he will not turn away if I'm naked, he's there. Of course, he's there.
"Good morning, pretty Ione, I have some good things for breakfast." He sings, setting the tray on a table he's placed in here.
"I want to leave this room."
"At what cost?" He asks, turning around to face me. Today, he's wearing beige linen pants and a fitted lavender shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination. "Oh, we match."
Rubbing my forehead, I sigh and ignore my growling stomach. "Ambrose, we nearly match everyday. Please."
He chuckles. "We do. It's so cute. We're like a couple or something."
"No, now, I willsay it again."
"I heard you the first time, cutie," He smiles. Hard to believe this guy is a mage, thousands of years old, capable of binding primordials. "You want to leave the room, it'll cost you."
"Never mind." I sit down, and he pushes in my chair, sitting across from me. "Thank you."
