CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
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THE ONLY THING MORE discouraging than plunging into a bottomless pit that has imprisoned all kinds of supernatural creatures for centuries, is trudging your way out of it. And that's exactly what Mila was doing, summoned forth and emerging like one of the monsters that often plagued Mystic Falls.
She was drenched in black, viscid residue from the pit that seemed to weigh heavy on her even when she managed to crawl out of it. Her wedding gown, once a delicate shade of ivory, had turned ebony; she blindly reached down to lift the skirt up so she could stand, sensing how mushy the fabric felt from absorbing the vile substance she drowned in. Her struggling body had sunk, been swallowed whole, until she reached a realm of vast nothingness and desolation.
Hands reach up to wipe her eyes, which almost didn't know how to process the streams of light coming in through glass-stained windows. Mila had been accustomed to the shadows for a long time, but she didn't know exactly how long. Thousands of questions invade her isolated mind, but what concerned her the most was who was behind her rescue.
The everlasting hope residing within her rose to the surface. She expected the silhouette in her line of hazy vision to be Kai. She allowed herself to believe that he had managed to remember her after all, that he fought for her everyday she was gone because that's just what he does. That's what they do for each other.
"Welcome back. I take it that wasn't your idea of a honeymoon?" The gravelly voice and its mocking tone revealed their identity before her squinted eyes focused on the person in front of her.
Her mouth morphs into a scowl, stepping forward out of utter anguish. "You have a lot of nerve."
Her voice croaks while spitting out the reply, but the venom still drips from her every word. Mila glares at him with resentment. She wants to flip over tables, shove objects off shelves, and throw anything she can get her hands on. It's the very least of what he deserves, but she manages to control herself, clamping her hands into fists and anchoring herself to the stone floor.
"You mean a lot of mercy," the Necromancer corrects. "I could've left you to your miserable banishment."
"Then why didn't you, huh? Why throw me in just to pull me back out?"
At these series of questions, the wretched creature behind her entrapment remains silent. His blackened lips flatten into a line. His haunting eyes roam the expanse of his crypt instead of offering up a belittling stare. He does not want to admit the reason why, but it allows Mila to connect the dots herself.
She straightens, tilting her chin up in realization. The only thing left for her to do in her exile was replay every moment that led her there. She did not forget about the Necromancer and his threats, his foolish plans that involved utilizing Kai and fitting him to his image.
"You didn't come here to save me out of the goodness of your heart, so don't pretend that you did. You did this for yourself. You thought you could control him and when that failed, he quickly turned into a threat, didn't he?" Mila told him, shaking her head. She watched the Necromancer's frown deepen at her assumptions that held too much truth. "One you have probably failed to neutralize, too. Bringing me back was your last option."
Arms that were previously folded behind his back fall at his sides. "Perhaps I made a mistake condemning you to Malivore's prison of darkness. I'm in over my head with the atrocious, exasperating lunatic you call your beloved. I unleashed a monster that would put any other mythical creature trapped in Malivore to shame. But, I know what moves to play and when. And you're going to be my checkmate. You're going to revert him to that sappy version of himself he was before, and all of the glory that comes with being the harbinger of despair will return to me."
"Right. You want the spotlight back on you. Well, you won't be able to enjoy it long. Because whatever happens next, it sure as hell won't benefit you. The bad guys don't win. That's just how it works around here."
"You've been gone for awhile. A lot has happened in your absence. I may meet my demise one day, but evil won't. Evil will live on even in the purest hearts, in the most redeemed souls, and it will take away everything you hold dear."
Having enough of his delusional babbling, Mila moves to leave. He doesn't show any indication that he was going to stop her. The Necromancer watches her pad across the floor with bare feet, expensive high heels lost to the sludge of the pit.
Before she is completely past him, she halts. Eyes that have seen too much, that have shed enough tears for twenty lifetimes, harden once more. He screwed everything up for her—for the both of them. He scribbled across the page of a freshly completed masterpiece that was their new beginning, and he deserved to pay for it.
"You sound like a poorly written fortune cookie," she mocked him hollowly for the last time, knowing that the foul creature would get what was coming to him.
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EVERY ACTION SINCE HER departure from the Necromancer's crypt had been quick paced. From finding her car still residing in the Salvatore School's parking lot, to rinsing off the gunk of Malivore and getting dressed in an acquired hotel room, and to figuring out Kai's location. It was all a blur of frantic strides and chest-rattling breaths.
The thought of reuniting with the twins and Ric first had occurred to her, but her first priority was finding Kai. Despite the brief, cryptic explanation the Necromancer had offered her, she had no idea how he was doing or what to expect. She knew that him having his humanity off was not a good sign. The fact that he probably had no recollection of her didn't help the situation, either. But still. She had to see him. She had to understand what exactly she was dealing with.
Thankfully her belongings she had packed for the trip back to New York were still in the trunk. She was able to clean herself up and give herself a few moments to adjust to being back to the real world again, something that she had already been through once before.
It wasn't hard to find out where Kai was spending his evening. Turns out, even with no sense of empathy, he liked to regularly update his Twitter followers of his day-to-day life. Fifteen minutes ago he posted a picture of him and a slumped stranger, a broken pool stick penetrating through his chest, and captioned it:
Mediocre jams. Questionable meat. And a bit of friendly competition :)
As disturbing as the post was and how his account was still somehow running unreported, Mila noticed he happened to tag the place he was at. It was a nearby bar, residing just outside Mystic Falls. She had been there once before so the drive from her hotel to the establishment wasn't difficult to navigate.
Mila tried not to dwell on how dangerous approaching him in this state would be. Really, she tried not to contemplate anything besides the relief she will feel once she's in his presence again. She had spent the entirety of her isolation left to her unrelenting thoughts and devastating heartbreak. She needed to feel something good. Something real. Or else unsteady hands and tightened lips would escalate into a complete breakdown.
Now, on the brink of falling apart, of letting all of the tragedy endured crack her sanity right down the middle, Mila found herself inside Blue Moon Bar & Tavern. Low hanging lamps, chatter from a plentiful amount of occupants, and warm air engulf her senses. The place was lively, swarming with people and their voices that blended into music playing from an old school jukebox. Leave it to Kai to publicly commit murder in a room full of potential witnesses and not get caught.
Unlike The Grill, there was more of an established dance floor here, and there was a crowd occupying it. It was hard to see over them. From the entrance, you could really only see a stage meant for live performances and a partial glimpse of the bar. After anxiously messing with the hem of her black shorts, Mila hesitantly made her way through the throng of bodies.
Diving head first into a social setting was more overwhelming than she thought it would be. Limbs that would merely nudge her seemed as if they snaked around her and squeezed until bones crushed and blood vessels broke. Groups that were feet away from one another seemed to lose proximity with every step she took, closing in on her, trapping her. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Like she was stuck in some sort of twisted nightmare and had never really left Malivore's clutches. Like she was drowning in that pit all over again.
Mind hindered and her strides faltering, Mila crashes directly into another. No bumping of shoulders, no swift glide of hips that comes from a quick passing. Her body completely stumbles into the solidarity of a chest.
No hands reach out to grasp at the fabric of her crimson tank top to help steady her so she does so herself, using the edges of the stranger's jacket for leverage. When she finally glances up, an apology on the tip of her tongue, she realizes he was the total opposite of a stranger.
"Woah. You look like you're about to pass out. Did you have the meat? You totally had the meat, didn't you? Nearly made me vomit, too. Ugh. I was about to go into the back and have a word with the chef." The flow of Kai's expressive, nasally voice is processed and it's the best thing that she's ever heard.
"Kai," Mila sighs out, and instead of backing away, she collapses further into him.
Kai stiffens. He doesn't know what to make of her head nuzzled against him and her arms wrapped around him, but she doesn't care. She doesn't care that nothing made sense to him because everything made sense to her. The haze was dissipating from her tortured mind. The world was turning again. She was home.
"Yeah... I don't do that. So just, uh, yeah." Kai peels her off of him. He peers down at her with squinted eyes. "How do you know my name?"
"I..."
Mila doesn't know where to begin — or if she even should begin. She just stares at him, starstruck and cemented in place.
He'd shaven, the usual stubble he kept trimmed gone and replaced by smooth planes along his face; she almost reaches out to touch him, fingers flinching at her side longingly. He'd also gotten a haircut, something that she had been teasing him about before the wedding because it was starting to grow down his neck. Kai had still managed to look infuriatingly handsome on the actual day, brown hair smoothed back in seamless waves.
It was like she actually was meeting him again for the first time. There that same weightless posture, the same boyish features, the carefree yet attentive flicker of his gaze. The only thing different was the lack of connection. She was putting everything in wide, glimmering eyes. Years of memories, of consuming sentiment and adoration, hoping to invoke something — anything. But nothing was returned. He did not know her. He did not love her.
"Who are you?" Kai asks with a slight shake of his head. His voices holds no genuine concern and neither do his eyes, which continue to stare at her blankly.
Mila swallows, gaining full control over herself for the first time since she's been back. "Um, no one. Sorry for running into you."
She tries to duck away then, knowing that it would be better to have a proper conversation once his memories had returned. Mila knew of the spell the Saltzmans have, specifically Josie, for reversing Malivore's side effects. Now that she had seen Kai for herself and gained a sense of security back, she knew what she had to do in order to get her husband returned to normal. She was going to fix this whole mess.
Before Mila could move past him, he impulsively reached out for her, snagging her wrist. Kai had no idea why he'd done it. It was instinctive, requiring no thought or reason, and his confusion behind the sudden reaction was etched into his expression.
She glances over her shoulder at him. Her eyes once again held so many unspoken words and feelings, a total contrast to just about every aspect about him. Despite his blatant indifference, hope sprouts, branching through the chambers of her heart.
Instead of giving further evidence of a rekindled spark, he drops his hold on her and snaps his head forward. Eyebrows unfurrow and legs begin moving again in an opposing direction. He leaves her there, standing in the outskirts of the crowd and wishing that he would turn around. That he would turn around and come back to her and tell her that he missed her at least half as much as she missed him.
But he didn't. So Mila got ahold of herself and made her way back towards the doors with a determination that only comes when you have something revolutionary to fight for.
a/n:
mila walking through the hotel lobby: