Leaving Arthos' apartment before he woke afforded me the luxury of slipping out of his suite without any further awkward, soul-rending conversations. The hallways swallowed me like so many red-tongued mouths as I manoeuvred through their winding expanses with no concrete destination in mind.
Keep moving, maybe none of it will catch you.
The lies I learned to tell myself still came easily, though they failed to stick or any offer comfort.
One thing I did know: I was not going to work. I couldn't look at Keel and I didn't think he could bear to look at me either.
I figured at some point my feet would steer me home. Instead, I found myself in front of the heavy, ornate double doors of the museum. What was I doing here? What was I looking for? I raised my hand and ran my fingers along the intricate carvings, the wood felt strangely warm to the touch. An invitation? Maybe the museum could grant me peace, empty and unattended as it usually was.
I flattened my palms on one of the double doors and shoved. Once it opened enough for me to slip in sideways, I crossed the threshold and let it thud closed behind me. The overhead lights were off, but the spotlights illuminating the exhibits glowed from each of the walls, casting the aisles into murk and shadow, but brightening the edges of the room. I followed the pools of light, running my hand along each of the glass-tops displays. When I'd first come here, this whole room had been a mystery, now I knew what each of these items was and why it was here. The Nosferatu's secrets had been made my own, and yet I'd never truly be one of them, even if I relented and gave Keel his son.
I followed the bends in the room until I came to the sorcerer scalp. There, proof, I thought, adding fuel to my misery. Never mind Keel's bloodline, my people's entire history was bearing down on me. Sorcerers didn't do the things I did, and they certainly didn't have children with vampires, not even sorcerers raised by humans. I was an aberration, and even when I resisted, fate wrestled free will from me. It was too much. Much more than I could swallow and keep contained within me.
I threw my head back and screamed. My screech echoed around the space, turning into a plaintive banshee wail, and I didn't care who heard me. Eventually my voice cracked and my throat ached and with nothing left inside to hold me up, I collapsed to my knees in front of the hair of my dead ancestor and cried. I thought I was done with tears after my day at Arthos' place, but big, ugly sobs tore through my body, threatening to topple it the rest of the way to the floor. How was it possible for everything to hurt this much? How was it possible for everything to feel so out of control? It was like reaching out and grasping for something, anything, and time after time finding nothing.
No matter where I went, no matter what I did, someone - vampire or sorcerer - would always be hunting me.
"Was this how it was for you when you went from hunter to hunted?" I whispered at the scalp on the wall.
It hung before me silent and accusing, refusing to share my guilt. That sorcerer had been a killer of vampires, while Arthos and Keel wanted me to be mother to them. And maybe turn the king into a true monster in the process. Or keep saying no and sentence every Nosferatu who had ever been kind to me to death. Or let him do it the Nosferatu way and- The vice in my chest tightened, stifling a fresh sob in my throat. All of it was impossible.
When the doors of the museum swung inwards along with the slightest of breezes, I knew who had entered without having to get up and peer around the corner. The bond would never let him sneak up on me again.
I closed my eyes and waited for his inevitable words, when they didn't come, I blinked my lids open and looked around. It took me a few moments to spot him. He was moving in my direction carrying a wooden bench. I rose and he positioned the bench in front of the exhibit. Then he took a seat, the bones on his robe clicking like skeletal fingers as they settled on the marble floor. When I didn't move, he tapped the wood beside him. A spark of fear flickered at the base of my spine remembering the anger he'd wore like a shadow the last two days.
"Sit." Another tap.
I sat down, not where he'd signalled me, but further down the bench, just out of reach, not that a few inches would matter to a Nosferatu.
"So this is where you're hiding."
"Not exactly hiding," I said.
"True."
"How long have you been watching?" I looked at the ceiling. It was no secret this place was wired; I'd flipped through it regularly during my own surveillance.
"Long enough."
I gave him a pointed look.
"Since you didn't show up at work, and I learned you'd been to see Arthos."
I bowed my head. "I'm an idiot, Your Majesty. I read all the books, aced all the quizzes, but then when it comes to taking that and translating it into real life, I screw it up."
"You haven't done so bad." Keel was more conciliatory than he had been at any point since my big revelation. It didn't make what I had to say any easier.
"On the small stuff maybe." I fidgeted with my fingers in my lap. "But you're right. I don't look at the big picture. I never have."
Neither of us said anything for a long time. Myriad scenes played in my head, all from the day Keel first brought me here. My curiosity and horror. How he'd stood just a little too close, and how his proximity had tingled my skin. And how all these artifacts meant the same things now as they did then, but also something totally different. Just like Keel - the same but totally different. I'd changed too. I lived in two worlds but belonged in neither. I was supposed to be light, remain light, but I'd fallen and broken the bulb and feared the glow dulled more each day. Keel would keep wearing me down with his half truths and mood swings and bond-tinged seduction. He might have thought he'd lost, but that wasn't true. If we continued like this, he would win. His was a war of emotional attrition. I'd cursed him with hasty mortality and he'd cursed me with all the rest.
He'd asked me who he'd be on the other side, but what about me? Who would I be at the end of this? Would I even recognize myself? Was that another selfish question? Or an important one?
A headache bloomed behind my temples.
"I don't think I can do this, Your Majesty." I said it to the floor, unable to face his reaction.
"I thought you wanted the job."
"No, more than that. You. Me. The bond. All of it. I don't belong here and no amount of lessons or tutoring is going to change that."
"Because you keep fighting." I expected Keel to make an effort to touch me or use the bond to get his point across, but he kept to himself.
"No, because I can't make any of the decisions I'm expected to make."
"Because I'm not him." A familiar rush of anger and darkness tinted his words.
"And because I'm not a proper sorcerer. I'm a teenager with some incredibly unrefined magic who got herself mixed up with vampires."
"You mean whose father got her mixed up with vampires."
"Same difference."
"Is it?"
When I lifted my eyes, the first thing I saw was the sorcerer's scalp. Trophy and accusation.
"Have you read that sorcery book your father wrote in?" I asked.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nod.
"How long did you know what he planned?"
Keel sighed a heavy, downtrodden sigh. "Some of it's foggy because of the transition, but I knew the generalities before I ever came to your cell. The more specific details, not till later."
"Before or after you made your promise to me?"
Keel closed his eyes and a crease appeared across his bow. He was trying to make sense of the unreliable history the bond left behind. "After. But before we escaped."
"Could you have done those things to me?"
His eyes flashed open and met mine. They darkened. "Not then."
My heart fell. "But now?"
More of the red bled away, leaving behind greedy, hungry chasms of Nosferatu need.
"I think could and would are important distinctions."
"Are they?"
Keel had me off the bench and pressed against one of the display cases before I could blink. His hips trapped mine. "You tell me. You're the one who still looks at me and sees a monster. You're the one who keeps expecting me to lose control."
I was staring down the floor again. "I don't expect you to lose control. Not exactly. It's just I see it in your eyes and feel it through the bond. Your need. Your desire. The edge you walk with me."
"And what do you think I see in yours? And in your head?" He tapped my forehead with his index finger. "You are temptation, sorceress. You imagine things and then swear up and down you don't want them."
"It's the bond."
"Is it? When I'm wielding my sword, or commanding my people, is the bond? Or do you like what you see? Do you tremble a little at the power of kings?"
My face flushed, and Keel cupped my hot cheek, cooling it.
"There is no shame in that," he said. "The hungry make history."
I put my hands on his chest and shoved. "I tell you I can't do this and you keep pushing. This is why I can't do this."
Keel paced the length of the museum and then returned to me with newfound determination plastered on his face. "You have to do this."
"No. I have to be here and stay alive. Nothing more."
"You said it yourself, it's too late for that."
"I know what I said, but you're not hearing me: I can't. It's all too much. I feel like I'm drowning, caught in some impossible undertow. Can you sense that through the bond? It's suffocating. And it all needs to stop, at least until my head can catch up, or it's going to break like one of your cattle." I slumped back against the glass display, feeling defeated. "But maybe that would make this easier."
Keel straightened. "I will stop."
"But what about an heir?"
"I will delay as long as possible," They were a king's words, spoken with royal weight. No matter what Arthos said, when I looked at Keel I saw none of my juvenile unease. I'd been on the brink and he was deftly guiding me back. But perhaps that was the only way this would ever end? Where else was I to go? Who else was I to be? I'd always come running to him. The bond would make sure of it.
"Arthos thinks you'll let the bloodline die. Is that true?"
The red returned to Keel's eyes, and a long moment passed. "No."
I didn't know if I felt better or worse, or just felt more dread. "What would you do?"
"It's probably best if you don't know."
"That's not fair, especially if you intend-"
His eyes held mine as his words cut me off. "Sorcerer Sarker, as a leader to my people a time will come for hard decisions. For both of us. But, as inadvisable as it is, we can delay a bit. When we must revisit it, we will."
"Until then?" Something in his gaze had me almost paralyzed.
"I only want two things of you." A pause. "Your protection and for us to investigate our magic."
"What about my blood?"
"Isn't that part of both of those things?"
I found myself staring at the sorcerer scalp again. Was there any way to do this without selling my soul or had I sold it long ago? "It's part of everything," I said.
"Now that's something we both agree on."
Minutes later, we also agreed on my returning to work - after I took a couple days off to regroup.
Three days later, we we back at the white board. Keel considered our list and turned to me. "You can speak in my head too."
"No, I can't. I can yell in your head during life-and-death situations, but I'm not even sure I was controlling it, the bond pretty much took over."
"Try now."
"How? I have no idea how I did it."
"Just concentrate on thinking your words into my head."
I looked him in the eyes and thought really, really hard: This is stupid.
"Anything?" I said.
"Nothing." Keel looked disappointed.
"What?"
"It could have been useful."
"Don't you mean intrusive?"
Is this an intrusion?
"Yes."
What if I needed to tell you something that no one else could hear?
"Have you been using it for that?"
"Point taken."
"You want to keep working on this list?"
Keel considered our list, then turned his assessing gaze on me. "No, but I am game for testing some of our mental limits, if you are."
A familiar wariness settled in my bones. "What do you mean?"
"I want to know how far our mental influence over each other goes."
"No." After the events of the last week, it was too soon.
"This is important."
"No. Plus, we already know the answer to this one. The bond gives you an unfair advantage."
"You're letting fear hold you back again." He took my hand, and sent calm through the bond.
"What are you doing?" I tried to pull away but he tightened his grip.
"I'm taking away that fear so we can work," he said. "This is magic and you said you would do it with me, remember? It was just a few days ago."
I closed my eyes and accepted the calm.
"I want to know how strong you are. How much you can resist."
"I don't want to do this."
"That's a good start," Keel said. "Now, kiss me."
My eyes snapped open, "What? You said you were done with this shit! You promised." I was indignant.
"There we go," he said, sounding triumphant. "There's nothing you fight harder than the idea of us, so show me what you got, sorceress. Impress me and I may spare you the horror of actually having to do it."
"This is messed up, you know that? Topside we call this assault."
"Good, use that too," Keel said, keeping his tone even.
"I hate you."
"And that," he said, and then he pushed.
I felt his intrusion instantly, a pressure on the back of brain. Kiss me.
"No."
He issued his command a second time, harnessing and amplifying the bond's desires. My nerve endings tingled, anticipating.
"No way."
But you think about it all the time, think about me. He was in my head again. Why don't you answer your question and see what it's like?
"I said..." I tried to keep fighting but the bond and Keel were tag-teaming me and I was awash in a million wants and needs that screamed for fulfillment. I could feel my resolve crumbling, a few rocks turning into a landslide. I was not strong enough. But we knew this already...
Kiss me, Mills.
At the sound of my name in my head all my common sense rushed back. "No! And that's not fair." This Keel never called me Mills. It was an underhanded trick, and it stung like hell, giving me fresh incentive to fight.
"Your enemies won't always be fair, Mildred. You have to be prepared," he said. "But you did well. You're stronger than you think."
"No I'm not, because if you hadn't-" he brought his free hand to my cheek. Another little push. Was the game still on? His fingers were stroking my skin and the bond was making promises and I swore in some non-verbal part of our shared brain Keel was making promises too. I felt myself slipping all over again. "Even now, I-"
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. You don't understand."
"Don't I?" Both of Keel's hands were cupping my face now. "Close your eyes."
I obeyed him, even knowing what he was about to do. At least it meant his stupid test would end. I should have never agreed to come back.
Ever so softly he brought his cool lips to mine in a perfectly chaste kiss that burned with everything it could be and set off dozens of firecrackers within me.
It ended as quickly as it began.
"Why did you do that?" I asked, as I touched my fingers to my lips.
"Because you wanted to know."
"I wanted to know what?"
"Do you really need me to answer that?"
I shook my head, but in reality it could've answered at least six questions and I wasn't sure which one he was going for. "Listen, I'm not sure I'm up for any more experiments today," I said.
"Sorceress, you really need to be less uptight."
"No," I said. "What I need to be is careful. And you need to stick to the boundaries we agreed on. You want me to trust you, right?"
"All's fair in blood and magic, sorceress," Keel said with a wry smile, and it took everything in my power not to slug him.
"I don't want you to kiss me again." Those were the first words through my mouth once we were in the royal chambers following my second day back at work.
"You're lying."
"Maybe." Did he know I could still feel his lips on mine? That for every question his kiss had answered, it had spawned five more. "But I'm still telling you I don't want you to kiss me again."
"You're overreacting."
"Am I?"
"You're scared."
"Damned right I am," I said. "You tricked me, and we'd made a deal."
"I needed to know how much mental strength you had. You don't know this world like I do. You will be tested in ways you don't even think possible."
"But that's not everything, is it?"
His restlessness tipped me off to the omission. When Keel's actions were above reproach, he stayed still and pinned you with his red eyes. Right now, every accusation he made was aimed over my shoulder or at my collarbone.
"What are you not telling me?"
"I suppose you're right, and it's time for a secret of my own," he said. "And I suspect you'll like this one as little as I liked yours."
Oh no. What now? My heart picked up its rhythm as Keel crossed to the oak dining table. He leaned over it, both palms pressed flat against the polished top, fortifying himself for whatever he was going to say next. And then he began. "The bond screams a little less when I give in to its demands and try from time to time. It gave me the ability to consolidate its power, and I think it's furious I haven't."
"What do you mean 'it screams at you?'"
"I'm sure I don't need to explain it to you."
"No, I suppose not," I said. "Did it do that when I worked upstairs and you didn't see me?"
"It wasn't as bad, but sometimes I'd find myself driven up there." He'd given up looking at me entirely, and stared down at the table. "I'd stand outside the door for twenty minutes or a half hour before gathering my wits and going back downstairs."
"So that's what you were doing. I could sense you out there, you know."
"I know, and once or twice I almost did what you wanted and knocked."
My mind flitted me back to those long, lonely nights when I'd felt Keel outside the door, and of all the scenes that had weaved through my mind - both real and fantastical - as I'd imagined inviting him in.
"But that too was the bond's trickery," he said.
"And that's the other reason you thought us working together might not be such a good idea."
"Yes. Proximity makes some things better, others worse."
"Wait." Something about what Keel had just said bothered me, and catching sight of the white board I knew what it was. "How did you know what I was feeling when you hadn't drank my blood in weeks?"
"Sometimes when we're close together I just can. It wasn't until you were working surveillance that I realized it was independent from drinking your blood."
I shivered. The bond had evolved into a world-class tattletale.
After updating the white board, I joined him at dining table, pulling out the chair across from him and taking a seat. "Then why'd you make that deal with me? You could have let me quit."
He met my eyes. "I can resist it."
"Are you sure."
"Sure enough, for now."
"And what happens later?"
"I don't know, we might find a work around." He sounded doubtful. "Or it might just get worse until I can't-" He paused, letting my mind finish that part. "Or-"
"We give it what it wants." My words were low, confirming what I'd long feared, all our clever strategizing would not spare us from the bond's end game. Like Keel's new shorter lifespan, this was not an if, but a when. A circle must be closed. All circuits completed. "So even without the heir, the bond will have to be-"
"I'm sorry," Keel said.
"How long until..."
"I don't know. And there's something else too."
"What?"
"It's become worse since you saved me."
All I could do was join him in staring at the table as that atom bomb exploded around me, impaling me with its attendant shrapnel.
All magic has a price. The biggest magics, the biggest costs. Ephraim's words came back to me in a rush. Using magic with Keel, on Keel, strengthens the bond, the same as the bond magic. It made perfect sense. Shared magic was another form of intimacy and we were tightening our connection. Saving his life added a new tether and shortened others. And so it would continue until there was no distance left between us.
My head sank to table and I cradled it in my arms.
Keel slid into the chair he'd been standing beside and fished out one of my hands. He didn't put any calm into his touch, understanding I needed to ride this out and make my own peace with it.
I peeked out at his long, pale fingers and the very sharp claws that topped them. Some time in the future, those fingers would... I shut my eyes, only to have something Keel said shortly after I arrived back at the compound echo into my head. It appeared to be a morning for dredging up old conversations. Easy or hard, sorceress, what's it going to be? Now the bond was asking the same question.
We shared no more words as the minutes passed between us. Perhaps Keel could feel the stages of grief as they tore through me, because just as I was about to pass from anger to bargaining, he said, "Do you want to do some combat magic today?"
How much time will that steal from us? I wondered, and yet I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do more than hit something or, better still, burn something to the ground. "Hell yes."
"Let's go then."
For the first and last time, I got to the gym faster than he did.