"Prague?"
"Prague."
"Why is she in Prague?"
Stravas lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "That isn't the question we should be asking right now. Why has it taken four weeks to locate her? Four weeks of silence, of nothing. Like she never even existed. There's a reason we haven't been able to find her."
Zamar's nostrils flared. He turned and began making his way out of the living room, he was half way through the door when a hard wall of magic stopped him dead in his tracks. Zafia had her hand out, pale blue light rolling in her palm. "Where the hell are you going?" his sister spat.
"To get my wife."
"Well she doesn't know she's your wife now does she, so stop being a hot head."
Zamar felt the last throes of his anger ripple through him. Anger has been his friend for centuries, since Freyja's last death, since she never came back. Anger. Red and hot and combustible. Freyja has always been his calm, if he could put a colour to her, she would be blue. Not blue as in sad but blue as in still...like a sleeping sea. Strong enough to drown him but gentle enough that he could float and feel safe. Blue like the sky, depthless and bright. Falling into a memory, a memory of her, Zamar loosened a breath. Shoulders sagging.
Zafia dropped the wall and said gently, "I know you miss her. And I know we're running out of time. But she hasn't even awoken yet. She doesn't know you're her husband, she doesn't know who she is, she probably doesn't even know of the covens. If you try to bring her here, she won't come willingly and if you bring her by force, celestials save us, she might decimate the place out of panic. You have to be smart about this, brother."
"Zafia is right," Stravas began, drawing Zamar's head towards her. "I spoke to the high elders of the covens, it's too risky bringing her back here and expecting her to be as she was. She needs to awaken by herself, we cannot force her hand."
Zamar shook his head. "So we just leave her out there? And lose her again?" the idea of losing her again sent wracking cold waves over Zamar's entire body.
"No," Stravas considered. "No, she has to choose to come here. Zamar can go to Prague, speak with her. See how much she knows."
Could he even face her? Could he face her and know that he would be a complete stranger to her? Could he face her and know that the moment he sees her face, he will be overcome by memories and emotion, and she will be overcome with nothing? He could, for her, he would.
For her, he'd break the world.
~
Live.
The word rattled through her like a new found song. Beating against her heart again and again. Live. Rose splayed her arms, extending them as a rush of cold wind whipped her hair and body. As the blur of colours and mixture of music and voices spun a web around her. Live. Rose felt cold fingers entwine with hers, and when she turned, she found him beside her with a matching smile. Dean—his hair ruined by wind, his eyes half closed and smile wider than hers. He howled as the ride tossed them high in the hair.
His howl was echoed by Rose's own roar of excitement and nerves.
Live.
She would live...if he would hold her hand while she did it.
"That was so sick!" Rose beamed as they stumbled off the ride, half disorientated, half drunk on the thrill. Before them, the carnival was a lattice work of purple and yellow and flashing red. Teeming with bodies and children with candy floss. They happened upon the carnival after coming out of the theatre and Dean was eager to see it, he'd heard about human carnivals but to see it first hand was something different. Rose found herself watching the way his eyes caught on every movement, lingered for a second, and searched for something else. The look in them was all feline and animal and child rolled into one. She was not the only one living, she realised. "What do you want to do now?"
Dean scoured the carnival, chewing on the question. They'd practically been on every ride, seen most of the stalls, there wasn't much left now that they had exhausted everything.
"Food?" he nodded towards a massive gazebo with stalls and a mini bar.
Her stomach growled in response. Food it was. Dean interlaced their hands without thinking and started walking, to any normal person it looked like they were a couple. To any normal person, no one paid them any heed because they looked like half the people there: a young couple spending their night in a carnival. For a moment, Rose let herself believe it. That they were normal, a normal guy and a normal girl. With lives so careless and free, who would go home to a warm house and a puppy to greet them, who would wake up the next day and face world. But they weren't normal, their lives aren't careless or free, they would go home to a castle beneath the earth, they wouldn't wake up and face the world. They wouldn't do anything together. And that, perhaps, was the most terrifying thought.
They sat down at a table but didn't touch the menu.
"Here," Dean fished in his pocket and pulled out a photo strip.
Rose frowned at the strip of pictures. "I thought Vampyrs don't show up in pictures."
He chuckled. "That's a myth, a very stupid one too. I'm too handsome not to be seen in the mirror."
She reached out and tousled his hair, grinning when he swatted her hand away. She had dragged him to a photo booth, he called it a magic box. Eight photos, one strip. First, a photo of Rose smiling and Dean frowning because he couldn't see where the camera was. The second was Rose roaring with laughter and Dean looking at her and smiling after he asked her if the camera was operated by miniature humans. The third was Dean with his arm around her, fingers tangled in her hair as she laid her head on his shoulder. Then one of him using a lock of her hair as moustache, her sticking her tongue out and making a rock sign with her fingers. Another of them smiling.
Then one of her smiling and Dean turning to face her.
Another, with his head fully turned to her and her still facing the camera.
Then her head turned and their eyes locked.
In the last one her smile vanished as if she had become hyper aware that his gaze was solely on her. Like she was the only person he needed, the only person that mattered. And he the only person who saw her for what she was. A galaxy with no end, a storm, a mirage, a painting. A temple and an alter he would fall to his knees at. Two people who seemed to belong in a different world.
She handed it back to him with a rattling heart. "Keep it. I want you can remember this."
Gods the way he was looking at her, it made her breathless and hot and flustered.
He drew a breath, cleared his throat. Right, Rose remembered, he was practically engaged. "Food?"
"The cheesiest burger you can find."
"The cheesiest burger for the cheesiest woman."
"Fuck off."
Rose watched him stalk off and realised she needed to pee. Really badly. She politely asked a neighbouring couple to watch their table for her before snaking her way through the crowd to find some kind of bathroom. It was as she was manoeuvring that she slammed into a man so hard it almost winded her. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you—"
The man wore a hood and barely even turned to her, but she had the strangest tingle at the bottom of her spine that he had seen her. Whoever he was. He pulled his hood tighter, pushing massive hands into his jumper pockets and storming off. Out of the gazebo and into the crowd. Yes he had seen her, and he had shoved something into her hand too.
Rose unfurled the tiny, crumbled piece of paper, trying to figure out how he had time to even touch her let alone put something in her hand. The black ink was smudged but legible.
You have questions. I have answers. Meet me behind the fortune tellers tent.
Rose's heart stumbled, fear and nerves gripping her tightly and turning her neck red. Dean was still in the line for burgers and it was long, she had time. No, what the hell was she thinking? She should go and get him not wander off and abide to this man's request. She could get hurt.
Rose didn't allow herself to think of the worst as she snuck between the crowd and slipped into the night.
~
She found him waiting.
He was in dark jeans and a dark hoodie with white trainers. It was too late to turn back but she knew if she screamed Dean would hear and come running, she could blind him with her power—which was rather pathetic in all honesty. She approached and stopped a healthy distance away, keeping one eye on him and one eye on their surroundings, gaging how difficult her escape would be if he turned violent. He looked bigger but she was smaller, more agile. She could run fast too, she could—
"You're younger than I expected."
The voice that came out startled her. He turned to face her but didn't pull of his hood, it was too dark to recognise any features.
Rose summoned whatever ounce of courage she had (though it was fools courage) "Who are you?"
A curious tilt of his head. "A friend."
"Sure," she bit. "What do you want?"
"To help you."
"You can start by telling me your name." An icy gust of wind danced past, making her teeth chatter in response.
She heard the wind carry a dark chuckle and realised it was him. Indignation flared in her blood, if this was some stupid creep who wanted to hurt her, he picked the wrong girl.
He pulled down his hood and Rose felt her breath catch. She stared into yellow eyes, feline and full of something dangerously dark. Smooth mahogany skin and tightly curled hair that was shorn close to his forehead. He must be a year or two older than her, but he looks can be deceiving. His face, the bone structure, the way he chewed his lip—she'd seen that movement before but couldn't pin point where. It was almost like a fleeting image, almost tangible but not entirely whole. "Your name," she said, a little tighter.
He put a hand to his heart and inclined his head. When he looked at her again, she noticed his hands were shaking as he went to clench them. There was a scent around him too, bitter and sour—nerves. "You may call me Zamar. What's your name?"
"Rosalie. Rose for short."
"Your name is Rose?"
"That's what's on my birth certificate. You look confused."
"You don't look like a Rose."
She scoffed. "You don't look like a Zamar."
He took a step and Rose took one back. "Stay there," she ordered. "Or I'll make a mess of that pretty face."
He smiled and it warmed something in her chest. "Still a fighter, I see." That smile felt so familiar, like she'd looked at it a million times, like she'd woken up to it. Like it was one she had once begged to see again. "I'm sorry for using such a method, I didn't know how else to draw your attention."
Rose folded her arms, tried to stare down at him through her nose. "Consider me drawn."
"Forgive me, I haven't done a formal introduction. My name is Zamar Arepef, a vesen of the southern Lior clan."
"You're a Vesen?" Rose's jaw dropped. A Vesen, gods he was a Vesen. Vampyrs and Vesens have been at war for centuries. "But you're a guy?"
He laughed. "Sexist but okay."
"No, I mean—no I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry," her cheeks turned red. "I just—I thought witches were female."
"The term witch is merely a person who practices magic. But no, there are men in the clans too," he gestured to himself with a wry smile. "Handsome men."
"So you're a warlock."
He winced. "That's considered a derogatory name."
"Oh shit sorry."
Again he smiled like he found her somewhat amusing.
"So what, your witchy magic, brought you to me? Why?"
He opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it. His eyes shifted between her and the hungry dark, tasting the shadows as they came by. "It's dangerous to speak here, I can smell one of their kind. We have to go."
"Smell who? What are you talking about."
His nose wrinkled. "A Vampyr."
Dean.
His lips curled. "I smell one all over you."
Whatever friendly demeanour they had a few seconds ago vanished and Rose was left struck with a million thoughts and a souring feeling. "If you're here to kill Dean, then you'll have to go through me. I won't let you near him."
"You're here with him?" Zamar's face fell into a mixture of shock, horror and hate all in one. She smelt it too, the change in his emotion. He blinked several times before taking several steps towards her and closing the distance between them, suddenly he was in her face, face contorted. "He's a Vampyr. They aren't to be trusted."
The thought of him harming Dean sent a volatile rage spiralling through her, she stepped forward, speaking in a voice that was cruel and carnal. "Your kind aren't so righteous either. Both of you are just as bad as each other."
"We don't kill innocent humans for food."
He had a point, and he knew he had a point because his mouth quirked upward. She wanted to wipe that smug, arrogant smile off his face. But whatever retort was dancing about in his eyes vanished when his face contorted. His gaze darted over her body, her hair, her cheeks, her clothes. It was like she slapped him in the face, and she bloody wanted to. "What—what's that smell on you. You—you smell like a Vampyr."
"Dean—"
"No, its not his scent—" he was scanning her head to toe like she was a puzzle he can't solve. Realisation dawned on him, whatever puzzle she was, he had solved it. "You're a vampyr."
"I'd rather eat my own shit," Rose hugged herself, feeling exposed with proximity. "I'm not. I—."
"A hybrid. Shit," he ran a hand down his face. "Shit. Is that even fucking possible?"
"What are you talking about, what's wrong? Are you here to kill Dean or not?"
He looked around, slightly agitated, before grabbing her hand and pulling her away. Deeper into the shadows, away from the crowd, away from Dean. She dug her heels into the ground and forced his storming gait to a halt. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Kidnapping me?"
"Stravas said I shouldn't bring you by force, but I don't do well with listening to her."
Who the hell was Stravas? "Let go." She said tightly.
"I need to get you away from him. He's dangerous."
She yanked her hand away with such force that he stumbled. "The only danger I'm in right now is being alone with you. I'd rather be with Dean than with you, at least I know he won't hurt me. This is the last time I follow crazy people's notes."
She began to walk away and hoped to Ra he would stay put and not follow. If Dean scented her, if he realised she was gone and went looking for her, he'd see him, and something told her that seeing her with a stranger in a dark little corridor between the Gazebo and a tent wasn't a good thing. She remembers what Rhazien said that day in the yard, Dean would walk away unscathed. He would rage.
Zamar called, desperation bruising his tone. "I'm the only one who knows who you truly are."
Rose stopped. She knew there had always been something wrong with her, had known it the day that cobwebbed man made himself known, along with his brothers and sisters. She'd been picked on and abandoned and hurt more times than she could count. And she could never truly shake off the feeling that she had lost something and needed to find it. There was a missingness in her that demanded to be filled and she would do anything to have it filled.
She heard the crunch of boots that stopped a healthy distance way. "But he cannot know what you are. He'll kill you if he does."
"You're lying. He's trying to help me find out the truth."
"Is he? Or does he already know what you are and is too busy enjoying having you as a pet."
Rose thought about how quick he was to deny knowing the tongues of Asgar Dehlm. She licked her lips. "He doesn't know what I am, neither do I for that matter."
"Personally I'm glad. Because the moment he finds out, he'll kill you. His Vampiric instincts will shred his mind until he does. He's an animal Rose. If not him, someone else will."
Rose thought of Thalia. Rhazien. What Meredith said to her two days ago. You're a threat. What was she? Was she so dangerous that she threatened the very existence of Vampyrs?
Her lip trembled. He'll kill you if he does. She had asked Dean if he would kill her the first time they met and he never truly gave her a yes or no answers, and now? Now she didn't know what would happen to her. He was different then, they hadn't spent time together. Though he offered her, with such gentleness, a chance to live and find a home, would he keep his promise? But after today, after laughing so hard on every ride and holding his hand as they plunged into the air, she realised what she really wanted. She wanted to live her life with him in it, she wanted a home in his heart. She wanted to see his smile in the mornings, she wanted to hear Thalia's boisterous voice echoing down the halls. She wanted Rhazien to tease her and Ekki to show her how to dance. She wanted the castle to feel like a forever home and not a prison.
Could she keep it from Dean? could she really? She hadn't a choice and he seemed to only be able to see certain parts of her mind. She didn't want to bear the burden of hiding things from him, but she couldn't trust him. Not fully. She wanted to, more than anything, but this was different. This was one thing she couldn't tell him.
"Tell me. Tell me everything. I won't tell him."