A Tangle of Hearts Page 6

  I couldn’t do anything more to help Phoenix at this point in time, but I needed to focus on something. It made sense for me to resume my little mission to pump the Druid for information, especially with the succubus in our midst. There was a lot he still hadn’t told me about the incubi and their female counterparts, their involvement with Azazel, and the risks they posed to our safety.

  “Aida, can you look after Phoenix for a while?” I asked. “I need to talk to Draven.”

  “Sure, I’ll stay with him.” Her reply came swiftly, and I gave her the warmest smile I could muster.

  “I’ll stick around,” Field interjected, still holding his side.

  Aida threw him a look, and he shrugged with the expression of a little kid in trouble.

  “You should be lying down in your bed,” she said.

  Field moved slowly around the bed and took my seat on the stool, grunting in the process. I felt so bad for him and the amount of pain he’d endured for my brother.

  “I’m fine,” he replied gently and looked up at me with a reassuring smile.

  “I wish I could syphon some of that pain away, but I’m drained for now.” I felt the need to explain myself.

  “You’ve got to save your energy. Don’t worry about me. Really.” He waved me off, and I nodded.

  I walked up to Draven, who was still in conversation with Bijarki. They both kept their voices low. My guess was that they didn’t want the succubus to hear them. I looked over and saw her fast asleep, Jovi standing motionless by her bedside.

  “What do we do next?” I asked Draven. He straightened at the sound of my voice. Bijarki, on the other hand, gave me a once-over and kept his mouth shut. We still didn’t like each other very much.

  “We need to keep this group safe. We’re not sure of the succubus’s intentions, regardless of what she tells us,” Draven replied.

  “What has she told us, exactly?” I still had no idea who she was.

  “She calls herself Anjani of the Red Tribe,” Bijarki answered.

  I squinted at him, letting my short fuse show. I had very little patience for cryptic short sentences at this point.

  “Is that supposed to mean anything to me?” I retorted.

  Bijarki pursed his lips.

  “The Red Tribe is only somewhat known in the north. They’re all female warriors, with little to no contact with the rest of their species,” Draven replied. “She says they’ve been resisting Azazel’s Destroyers, but I have to see for myself.” He sighed. “Or better yet, Bijarki will have to see for me.”

  I looked at Draven, then at Bijarki, whose gaze lowered to the ground. I wondered whether he was feeling sorry for the Druid or just pained by our shared handicap with Draven being visually impaired at such a dangerous time. I tried to drown out how guilty I felt, still bearing the responsibility of his blindness in my heart.

  “So far she’s been quiet and tied to the bed. I’m not sure she’s much of a threat right now,” I said.

  “Nevertheless, her statements need to be verified. She said she strayed too far from her camp with her sisters when the shape-shifters attacked and that she didn’t know about or see the mansion until Jovi brought her in,” Draven said.

  “How do you plan to verify anything she says?” I asked.

  “The fire. Bijarki can look into it for me.”

  Bijarki stood silent next to him. I was under the impression that I intimidated him a little bit, judging by the way he avoided looking me in the eye and took a step back every time I came near him.

  Good.

  Draven’s head cocked to one side, and my heart throbbed for a brief moment. “How are you feeling?”

  I quickly dismissed his concern, as it didn’t feel appropriate in the presence of the incubus. “I’m fine. I’m not the one who got hurt this morning. I’m the one who wants to do something about all of this. What about the sleeping Daughter?” I shifted quickly, hoping to catch him off guard.

  “That’s something we can discuss another time,” he shot back, and I felt my resolve fizzle.

  He placed his hand on Bijarki’s shoulder and squeezed twice before they made to leave.

  “Wait. Where are you going?” I shouted after them, irritation tainting my voice.

  “I told you. The fire.” His reply echoed from across the room.

  I let out a long sigh as they left, and found myself without a plan. Draven didn’t want me around while he had Bijarki for support, and that annoyed me a surprising amount. I couldn’t sit by my brother’s side either. My helplessness would scratch away at my soul, since I couldn’t do anything more to help him. I had to find something else to do.

  Maybe read more from Elissa’s diary.

  My gaze fell on Jovi and Anjani. I saved the thought of Elissa’s diary for later that night, as I had doubts I’d be able to sleep. I walked over to get a closer look at the succubus.

  She seemed submerged in a deep sleep. Her skin shimmered like Bijarki’s, but there was something feral about her that I found troubling and fascinating at the same time. I had a feeling that the entire species would be able to make me feel that way—fascinated and scared simultaneously.

  I watched her for a while, wondering about her, about how she’d come to cross paths with us, and about her intentions. Had she really just stumbled upon us in a desperate attempt to save her own life? Or had she been sent to infiltrate our group? A multitude of other questions flickered through my mind; some I had reasonable answers for, but others left me blank.

  Jovi had cleaned her up well, and her wounds were covered in one of the Druid’s weird-smelling herbal remedies. He still stood by her side, his hands resting on her forearm and his gaze fixed on her face.

  He had some scratches of his own but nothing as serious or as deep as Field or Phoenix or Anjani.

  “You okay?” I asked him.

  He looked at me, concern furrowing his brows. “I’m all right. How are you holding up? How’s Phoenix?”

  I shrugged, unable to think of a more eloquent gesture to explain how I felt. “Draven says it will take a while for him to wake up,” I replied.

  Jovi's heavy sigh rolled from his chest. He looked pained as he glanced at my brother lying in bed somewhere behind me. “This is all my fault, Serena. I am so sorry. I just couldn’t let her get killed by those monsters.”

  It hadn’t occurred to me to blame him. I would have done the same in Jovi’s place; I would’ve done my best to save someone about to get torn to shreds by shape-shifters.

  “Don’t be stupid, Jovi. This isn’t your fault,” I replied.

  A few moments passed as he digested my response. He glanced down at Anjani. I noticed the glimmer in his eyes, and I wondered about his attachment to the succubus, since he hadn’t left her side.

  “What is it with you and her?” I asked, perhaps a little more directly than I had intended.

  His eyebrows rose in surprise. “What? What do you mean?”

  “You’re basically glued to a succubus. What’s up with that?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, brushing me off.

  But I didn’t want to let it go just yet. If he was attracted to Anjani, it made him vulnerable and open to attacks, at least until her claims could be verified.

  Jovi gazed at her, and his jaw tensed. Then he smirked at me.

  “Don’t be stupid,” he said. “I’m just keeping an eye on her, making sure we’re all safe.”

  “She’s injured and tied to the bed, and you’re hovering over her like a concerned nurse,” I shot back. As if I’d ever buy his lame excuse.

  “Nah, I’m literally keeping an eye on her,” he insisted, then shrugged. “Besides, I’m the one who brought her here. She’s kind of my responsibility.”

  I eyed him suspiciously, but decided to give it a rest. A headache snuck between my temples, and my knees felt weak. It had been a long day. I needed to sit down and process everything. I had to calculate my next steps carefully regarding
Draven, and I had no energy left to focus on Jovi and his damsel in distress.

  I nodded and took my leave. Time to read a few pages from Elissa’s diary after all.

  Serena

  [Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]

  There wasn’t much left in Elissa’s diary. The last entry was short and rushed, written in broken cursive and riddled with ink blots.

  “Almus has yet to return, and I have lost the ability to sleep in his absence.

  Draven asks me about him every day, and I am running out of excuses to ease his concerns. Poor little thing, so young yet so troubled with responsibilities.

  I love him with all my heart. If it weren’t for him, I would have lost my mind by now…

  Another day has gone, and I’m once again here, on my own. The boy is fast asleep now, and I’m trying to keep myself busy with chores around the mansion.

  I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I hope it brings back the man I owe my life to—the man who has my heart.”

  I sighed as I put the diary away and headed for Draven’s study. The reading session had been brief and unsatisfying and, at the same time, painfully revealing. There were no more entries by Elissa, which made me assume that something happened to her, that she was gone the next day.

  I pushed open the door to Draven’s study slowly, not wanting to barge in and startle him. I figured a blind man needed to be eased out of his solitude, contrary to my usual bull-in-a-china-shop demeanor.

  The fire burned hot, and I instantly regretted my decision to seek him out. It was a sauna in there. But that wasn’t the worst part. I found Draven furiously fumbling through the shelves on one of the walls. Books and various knick knacks kept falling on the floor while he cursed under his breath.

  I watched him for a minute. What was he trying to do? Then I realized he was trying to find something. Judging by his muttered curses and grunts, he was failing miserably.

  “Can I help you?” I asked.

  Draven stilled, his hands on a shelf in front of him, and turned his head toward me.

  “I’m downright useless right now. I can’t take it anymore,” he said.

  “Well… I’m here to help. What do you need, Draven?”

  He exhaled and allowed a moment to pass before he spoke again.

  “I keep herbs in this room. Extremely rare specimens that I can ingest and that can help increase my other senses in the absence of sight,” he said. “I have to make myself more useful. Time moves fast, and I can’t keep up in this condition.”

  “Okay,” I replied, my voice calm while my mind processed the information. This man was full of interesting secrets. I had to learn everything I could from him for as long as I was with him. “What am I looking for? Where do you want me to look?”

  “There are three vials made of colored glass. I had them especially made for these herbs. One is a golden yellow, one is a dark pink, and the other is green. They’re shaped like tears and are sealed with black corks.”

  “Do you remember where you put them?”

  “They must be behind some books, somewhere on these shelves. I’m not sure which shelf, though. I’ve not seen them since I put them away a very long time ago.” He leaned back against his desk.

  I had to give him credit; for a blind man he was pretty quick at spacial recognition. He’d learned some of the key distances in his study already. It kind of made sense, since this was where he spent most of his time.

  I went over to the shelves and started looking for the glass vials. As I fumbled between books, boxes, and various other items on the top side of the rack, I figured it was as good a time as any to resume my intel mission. I looked over my shoulder and watched him sink into the chair, quiet and still.

  “Tell me more about Druids,” I said. “I barely know anything about you.”

  “There’s not that much to tell, really,” he replied.

  I sighed. I had a feeling he was in no mood to talk.

  But then he continued. “We’ve been around for eons, ruling over the galaxy with a solid sense of democracy, like I’ve told you before. We’re very close to nature.” He paused, as if waiting for me to respond.

  “Hence your penchant for herbs and mystic fires,” I replied, my eyes focused on finding the vials.

  “Indeed. We have a natural communion with the elements, with Eritopia itself. We respect life and everything it gives us. Druids are also dual creatures. We can morph into snakes.”

  I froze, then turned to gape at him. He’d been waiting for my reaction, his jaw firm and throbbing.

  “You can turn into a snake?” Had I heard him correctly?

  He nodded.

  “Not much to tell my ass,” I said in wonderment.

  Everything started falling into place in my head. The blackness that had flickered over his eyes before the Daughters took his sight was the haw I’d seen on snakes, a membrane typical of reptiles. The heat in his study, his need to stay warm even with the scorching heat outside. The fact that I’d never seen him eat. It all made sense.

  Wow.

  It took me a minute to process it all. Part of me was curious to see him transform. But then another thought crossed my mind. I stilled.

  “The Destroyers have snake tails,” I said.

  “Indeed, they do. They were all Druids once, just like Azazel,” Draven explained. “Druid magic is deeply tied to Eritopia, to nature itself. But it can be as dual as our bodies are. It can be a natural art or a black art.”

  “What’s the difference between the two?” I asked. I resumed looking for the vials. My fingers brushed over a leather bound copy of Delirium: A Guide to Incubi Seduction. I shivered a little, despite the heat, remembering Bijarki.

  “We use plants and herbs and other natural ingredients to practice natural arts, and it’s a clean process, mostly performed for healing, research, scrying, or even defense but never to attack or hurt anyone or anything. We draw energy from other creatures for the black arts, and it’s a side of us I’m not willing to further elaborate on right now,” Draven explained.

  “And the Destroyers?”

  “I’m getting there. In short, Azazel took the black art to a new, much darker, level skewing the process until he began corrupting Druids. Something festered inside of them, and they all began turning into snakes, unable to control the shift. By the time Azazel managed to get it under some kind of control, they were so irreparably damaged on the inside that they found themselves stuck halfway between Druid and snake.”

  The paintings made sense. The giant snake tails, the feral looks, their evil appearance—the Destroyers were the result of pure evil and greed corrupting the very soul of a Druid.

  I returned to the million dollar question. “Tell me about the sleeping Daughter.”

  He immediately shifted in his chair and closed up on me.

  I almost regretted asking, but he’d been dodging me on this for so long.

  “Now isn’t the time to talk about that.” He tried to end the conversation there, but I wasn’t ready to quit.

  “Why are you so secretive about her? What are you afraid of?”

  “Listen, Serena. I will answer any other question, except about her. She’s the reason why we’re protected here, and I will not do anything to endanger her just to satisfy your childish curiosity. I will protect her from us all, if that’s what it takes to keep you safe. To keep the Oracles, your brother, your friends safe.”

  My breath hitched. “I appreciate that, Draven, but I think we’re way past the stage of you not trusting me, or us for that matter. We’ve been through enough for you to give me a little credit here.”

  “Haven’t you seen how cruel the Daughters can be? Do you think the sleeping one is any better? I don’t want you anywhere near her.” His tone was firm.

  But I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

  “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself. If she’s our key to defeating Azazel, and since you’re using my brother and my friends against him, I’m p
retty sure I’m entitled to know a little bit more about the sleeping Daughter so I can be better prepared!”

  Draven took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I’d noticed he made whenever he was getting frustrated.

  “You’re not ready to understand more about her. This isn’t about me not trusting you. This is about me trying to protect all of you and her at the same time. Me protecting her is what keeps you, all of you, safe. You don’t fully understand what you’re dealing with when it comes to the Daughters of Eritopia. Please, just let it go for tonight.”

  And there it was, a minor concession—for tonight. I scowled and allowed silence to fall between us.

  “Please,” he murmured, “just keep looking for the vials and help me get myself into better shape, so I can better protect you all.” His voice was soft, his tone reserved.

  I’d have to try and fight this fight again tomorrow, since he clearly wasn’t going to reveal more now.

  I reluctantly returned my focus to the task at hand. I rummaged through items I normally wouldn’t have been allowed to touch, given how protective Draven was of everything in this room, but I eventually found them nestled behind a few herbology encyclopedias dressed in red leather.

  “I found them,” I said, clinking them in order to give him an audible glimpse of his cherished vials.

  A smile bloomed on his face so radiant that I felt myself, and my annoyance with him, melt a little. Although maybe it was the fireplace melting me.

  “What next?” I asked.

  “I need you to mix them in a bowl. I’ll have to eat them.”

  I pulled the cork off one of the vials and sniffed it. It smelled like twenty rotten corpses had been compressed into a tiny bottle, and it took everything I had to stop myself from heaving. I may have unwillingly gagged, because his smirk made me think he knew exactly what I’d done.

  I followed his instructions and handed over the bowl with the stinky mixture. Why did the Druids’ herbal magic have to smell so bad?