Our plane to Verona left at noon. So, naturally, Griffin was at our door at six AM with her big announcement. "I'm officially a teenager!" She fist-pumped the air, filling the quiet apartment with the sounds of childish merriment. It was infectious, and before I knew it, I was reminiscing about my thirteenth birthday party. I'd invited my crush and left him feel me up behind the garage.
"What were the first words you said as a teenager?" I asked, sliding a piece of sourdough bread into the toaster.
Griffin slowed down to consider my question. "I can't remember. Maybe they were, I'm officially a teenager! I've said it several times already. Where's Vincent?" She glanced around, suddenly frantic.
"He's in his office making sure the universe's projected investments are on target. Don't worry. He's packed and ready to leave at nine AM sharp."
"Okay. I'll be back at eight-forty so we can ride the elevator together." Griffin swooped down to kiss the dogs, who followed her to the door, looking both disappointed and relieved when she left. There was always that cool-down period after Griffin vacated a room.
I buttered my breakfast and walked it into the spare bedroom. I still needed to fill my toiletry bag before I could officially count myself ready. As I sat on the end of the bed eating bland toast, I surveyed the suitcase for items I might have forgotten. What would it be like to travel with a baby? Would I need a separate bag? A baby bag?
My parents used to give me gum to chew on the airplane when my ears popped, or when I got nervous. They spent a lot of money on gum during family vacations. Now, I had my own wings. I could fly to DC without burning fossil fuel. They would flip if they saw me landing in their backyard. I really needed to tell them about that strange piece of my life.
A sting on my palm had me balancing my plate on my knee as I inspected a small abrasion there. When had I done that? Probably during my rendezvous with Vincent in the aquifer. He had me pinned to the wall pretty good. That was fun, right up until the end when he said I'd burned him.
Then there was the incident with Sam. After we'd left Dmitry's estate, Sam called and said he'd seen a winged man inside the maze who looked like the statue. When Vincent probed further, Sam admitted to seeing horns on the guy's head. Vincent tried to reassure him, using his no-nonsense voice, that he most likely saw a gollum checking-up on them. The horns were just his imagination running wild. After the call, when Vincent confirmed that none of his comrades from New York were in the area, we knew Sam had seen our spy.
I heard a plop and looked at the floor to find my toast there, butter side down. Damn. A perfectly bland breakfast wasted. As I got on my knees to clean it up, I noticed a slip of paper attached to the underside of a small table. The neatly-folded note was held in place by two pieces of tape, clearly put there on purpose.
I worked the paper free, then I sat down and opened it, my curiosity trumping any fear of consequences. The first thing I noticed was the handwriting. It was definitely feminine, and it began To my darling Vincent. Holy crap. Was it a love letter?
Suddenly, I had the urge to return the letter to its hiding place and forget I ever saw it. But I couldn't do that now. I'd already seen it. Maybe destroying it without reading it would be a better option. But I'd always wonder what the letter said.
My Darling Vincent,
You may never read this because I plan to leave it somewhere you may never look, but I still must write it because to deny my love for you would be like denying the sun existed. You have brought me more joy and more pleasure than I could ever find in my lifetime. You will forever be the marker of excellence by which I judge all others. Tragically, the gollum who has won my hand will never win my heart. While you say an ocean couldn't stand in the way of our love, you are not the one being asked to leave your family on the other side of it. I hope you will someday forgive me and find love again.
Your angel, Angelique
"What the fuck?" I spoke my curse as I stared at the signature - Angelique. Was this his lost love from Paris? Did Vincent call her his angel? Why had I dropped the stupid toast? Why did I even make breakfast? My stomach was already feeling off. Ego in pace, ego in pace. I chanted as I glared at Angelique's perfect handwriting.
They were in love. He would have married her if she had left her family, and I never would have had him. A violent shudder wracked my body, and I felt my empty my stomach churn. Scrambling across the floor to the bathroom, I hit the toilet just in time. I wasn't there long before Vincent appeared next to my head.
"Reese, what can I do?"
"Love me and never let me go," I said as I sat on my heels and wiped bile spittle from my mouth.
"What?"
I looked up into his beautiful eyes, tears streaking my face as I dragged my nasty hand across my wet cheeks. "I would never give you up. No matter how big the ocean."
Vincent stared at me as I blubbered, and I realized my stomach had stopped churning, so I reached out to him. He dropped to his knees, pulling me into his arms and rocking me, not caring that my spit and tears were saturating his freshly-washed shirt.
"What's going on, Reese?"
I didn't want him to know about the letter. I didn't want him to know his angel was still in love with him and always would be. What if he felt the same? What if there was a place in his heart he still reserved for her? "I'm just being stupid. Don't listen to me."
I tugged him closer, wishing like hell I hadn't dropped the letter when I rushed for the bathroom. Vincent must have missed it when he hurried to get to me. He took hold of my fingers and pressed them to his cheeks.
"Your hands are hot. Can you feel that?" He pressed my fingers to my cheeks and, sure enough, they felt hot against my skin.
"I don't know why they're hot. I was gripping the side of the toilet pretty good. You might want to wash your face now."
"Let me take your temperature, just in case. Do you want to lie down on the bed?"
I bit my lip as I nodded, and Vincent hoisted me off the floor, carried me out to the bed, and lowered me gently onto it. I arranged a pillow under my head, pretending to get comfortable as he walked back to the bathroom without a word. Then I shimmied to the edge and found the letter lying on the floor. As I stretched for it, trying not to fall, I noticed a scorch mark on the paper, like the flame of a candle had singed it. Was that already there? Had I caused it?
"Reese. What are you doing?"
Shit.
I tossed the paper, and it landed beside my open suitcase, but Vincent had already seen the evidence, and he bent down to pick it up as my stomach vaulted out the window.
"Please, don't read it, Vincent!"
But Vincent wasn't listening to me. He was standing there with the thermometer in one hand and the letter in the other while my heart shriveled inside my chest. Tears flowed down my face, and I made a grab for a tissue beside the bed, blowing my nose into it as Vincent read the words of his lover who lived across the sea.
"Where did you get this?" Vincent's gaze flicked to me and the emotion I saw swirling in his eyes tore my shriveled heart into pieces. I swallowed down a sob as I willed my lips not to tremble.
"It was taped under that table." A sniffle escaped, betraying me as I pointed to the offending piece of furniture, which I planned to get rid of the first chance I got.
With a nasally sigh, Vincent folded the letter and laid it on the table. Then he crawled across the bed toward me, scooping me into his lap before leaning against the headrest. He held me like that, letting my sobs slowly weaken as he caressed my hair. His comforting touch soothed my skin but not my heart. The pieces were barely beating.
"Baby," he said finally. "You are the love of my life. If I had been mated when we met, the fallout from that would have been disastrous. Because, believe me, I would not have been able to stay away from you."
I swallowed hard, feeling the lump push past Vincent's arm where it rested against my chest. I knew he meant what he said. I knew he would endure agony and hardship to keep me close, and I needed to get ahold of myself before he thought I was some fragile doll he had to take care of.
"I know how much you love me, Vincent. That's why the letter freaked me out so much. It was confirmation that you loved someone before me. Someone who still loves you."
"Reese..." he breathed against my temple, warming it with his lips. "There are many kinds of love, and the love I feel for you is stronger than all the others. Do you want to know why?" I lifted my head to nod at him, and he held me there in his unwavering, gray gaze. "Because it makes me feel weak. Losing you would crush me like a bug on a windshield."
I pulled his arm tighter around me, hating that fate had us by the balls. "When one is lost, the other too shall die."
"Poignant. Where is that from?"
"My hormone-addled brain."
"You should write it down." He helped me burrow deeper into his chest, and we snuggled against the pillows, enjoying a moment. "A decision was made this morning about the pharaoh's cube," he said, his lips moving against my forehead. "The acting high magister was involved in the conversation."
"Rudy? What did he have to say?"
"Well, given that a curse of unknown origin is attached to the cube, and there are speculations surrounding the existence of the necromancer, we are considering releasing it to the demons. Under certain conditions, of course."
"Is that because the magisters believe the necromancer is still alive? Or is there something else you haven't told me?"
"Rudolph shared information that none of us were aware of. Apparently, these zombie demons have been sighted by gollums, which corroborates the information Christoph shared with me at the coffee shop. If these freaks do exist, we need to make sure the cube doesn't fall into the wrong hands."
"But whose hands are the wrong hands?"
"That's the quandary. It was agreed that if Christoph can prove Hadria intends to destroy the cube, the domi will hand it over to her."
"How can Christoph prove that? He's pretty far out of the loop."
"He is now, but he can put himself in the loop."
I wiggled free of Vincent's gollum grip to look at him. "What are you suggesting?"
"Well..." He sucked in a breath that sounded like the gasp of a dying man. "He could volunteer to remove the curse."
For a second, I wasn't sure I'd heard Vincent right. Had he suggested Christoph volunteer to remove a curse that would kill him? It sounded like he had.
"You want Christoph to sacrifice himself to destroy the artifact?"
"He wouldn't have to go through with it. We'd work things out... Come up with a plan. I know you wouldn't agree to it otherwise."
"Damn right, I wouldn't agree to it. Christoph saved my life. We aren't risking his."
Vincent's hold on me tightened as his lungs filled with oxygen, forcing his chest into my back. "I said we will work it out. But we need your help. Christoph may not agree to the plan unless you're involved in it."
"Oh, so that's where this is going? You need me to talk him into it. Well, he already told me how they choose the unlucky bastard. It's a random name draw from a box. If Christoph volunteers, Hadria is going to suspect something is up."
"But Christoph is a member of the queen's guard. He's not as out of the loop as he's letting us believe. This is the best option we've come up with, Reese. The next step would be to reach out to another hive."
"Are all the queens as bitter and hateful as Hadria?"
"They each have their pros and cons, but none currently have a trustworthy tie to a domus like we do. I hate to say this, but Christoph is our best hope."
I didn't like the way he said Our best hope. It made me think of the soldier who rescues all the wounded but doesn't make it back to camp himself.
"You can think about it while we're in Europe," Vincent said. "In the meantime, the cube will remain locked inside the Cromwell's safe."
I let the silence grow for a minute, thinking about my life. Apart from being married to my true love, almost everything else felt like a Netflix melodrama. "So, there have been zombie sightings, huh? Where?"
"In eastern Europe. Reports have trickled in over the past few weeks from two separate hives. Rudolph hadn't given the matter much thought because there was no threat to humans or gollums."
"So, is there any way to tell the difference between a real demon and a zombie demon?"
"Only if they take their demon form. Apparently, their talons and fangs are enhanced with adamantium."
"Yikes."
"That's one way of putting it." Vincent's gaze didn't leave my face, and I knew he was waiting for me to tell him what he wanted to hear.
"Fine. I'll talk to Christoph, but the plan will not include a martyr component."
"I expected nothing else."