Death Song (Tales from the Tarot)

13. Rex

Chapter thirteen

Rex

“ A m I your mate?” Charlie asks, flying into my office. I glance up from my computer, stunned at his question for a split second before my brain kicks in.

“Who said that? Emery?”

“No, Finn and Bowman. They’re wolves, which is apparently also a thing that is real. I smell like you, according to them.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, but the shifters being able to scent whatever bond exists between Charlie and I means more than Emery’s meandering thoughts about mates. “They said mates?”

“Sure did.” Charlie sighs, sitting down in the chair across the desk from me. He is silent, though I can sense that he’s deep in thought, and I don’t blame him for one moment of it. Where once he was a human with human friends, he finds he is now a potential seer surrounded by vampires and wolf shifters.

“We could be,” I offer in response. “Though vampires aren’t meant to have mates.”

“They said that as well. Something about Gozer, Klortho and Zuul or some shit.”

I laugh softly, rising from my chair to stand beside him. “Those are the ghosts from Ghostbusters.”

“I know that.” He sighs, leaning his head against my thigh. I reach down and run my hair through his copper locks, feeling his warmth beneath my fingertips. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Rex. Everything I thought I understood is different. It’s not what it was, but then again, was it ever as I thought it was? Am I really that stupid?”

“Never,” I respond, grabbing the arms of the chair and pulling it so that he is facing me. I place my hands on the arm rests, so he has no choice but to look into my eyes. “You are smart, Charlie. Don’t let yourself think otherwise. You told me of change that is coming and perhaps this is it. An awakening into who you are meant to be with the knowledge of new things to help you move forward on your universe path. The old version of Charlie is dying, and the new one is just starting to take shape. None of this makes you stupid, or foolish.” Something flickers in his eyes, an awareness perhaps, and he tilts his head up to me. I lean forward and capture his lips in a kiss, then pull back to look into the depths of his green eyes again. “You are changing, Charlie, as the world around you changes.”

“Okay,” he whispers, nodding slightly. “I think I might go paint. The base coat should be dry by now and I want to see if I can get more work done into it before I sleep.”

“Keeping vampire hours now?” I ask, gesturing to the clock that clearly reads nine a.m.

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” Charlie grins. “Unless the Romans that you’re hanging out with are trying to murder everyone and steal a throne. Then, probably don’t do that.”

I laugh, kissing him once more before moving away from the chair so he can head to his sanctuary of paint. He leaves the room, still deep in thought, and I turn back to my work but it’s no use. I can almost feel his hurt inside my own body, his wondering and confusion rippling through my own mind like waves of the ocean lapping at the edges of my thoughts.

Perhaps, he truly is my mate, and I have been chosen by the fates to have him by my side forever, or for as long as he draws breath, whichever comes first.

Tracking down a reaper isn’t an easy task. I hadn’t thought it would be, but it’s been over a week since we started actively looking for Thomas and none of us have spotted him. It isn’t as if I can just pick up a phone and call him or say a spell and summon him. I’m starting to think the only way we’re going to find him is by killing someone, and though that would achieve our end goal, I don’t need the dark mark against me. Someday, I may have to face The Harbinger, the counterpart to the Sisters of Fate, who weigh and measure departed souls in the depths of the underworld, and causing useless, innocent death won’t work in my favor.

Tonight, my search brings me to Borders, a nightclub that Gibson and Emery frequent. Run by a panther shifter named Caius, Borders is a sort of gathering spot hidden from regular human eyes in the back of what looks like an abandoned building. If you are lucky enough to be able to see past the charm that covers it though, you’d see a thriving club filled with all sorts of paranormal creatures seeking the safety of the club’s confines. Wards protect against malice and no weapons are allowed inside, making the place a safe haven for those who need refuge, but also those looking to cause harm beyond its walls. If someone is trying to get to me, being here tonight is probably a mistake, but needs must, and I find myself in need.

Hopefully, Thomas is inside at some point during the night and this trip is worth the risk.

I park my car along the curb at the back of the building and step out into the cool night air. Heading for the door, I can see the security guard Tyros standing with his arms crossed at the front as he always is, but as I make my way over to him, someone shouts my name.

Whirling around, instantly on edge and ready to defend myself, I find Emery standing there, his arm looped through Charlie’s. Charlie offers me a grin, and I sigh. When I left, the two of them were curled up on the couch watching a movie together with a bucket of popcorn between them. Charlie shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe with us not knowing where Colin is or who his client is, and on another level, Charlie isn’t prepared for the things he may see inside Borders.

“Emery, what are you thinking?” I murmur, as Charlie scoots over and tucks himself against my side. My arm comes around him like it has a mind of its own, and while it’s comfort to have him close by, it’s also dangerous.

“Like you were really going to come to Borders without me? Rude.”

“It is unsafe, Emery. You don’t know who is lurking inside waiting to catch a glimpse of Charlie.”

“Or you,” Charlie butts in, nudging me in the side. “I’m just the painter. You’re the subject. If they wanted me, they’d have waited for me to get home and kidnapped me. Seems to me like you’re the one being unsafe by coming to a nightclub full of monsters and creatures.”

“Can’t fault that logic, can you?” Emery says with a grin.

I can’t, though I wish Charlie hadn’t come all the same. “Let’s go then. Don’t look at the harpies, Charlie. They don’t like being stared at and will try to pluck your eyes out with their claws, laws and rules of the club be damned.”

Emery shivers, nodding. “If you see the reaper, don’t shake his hand.”

“Harpies? Reaper?” Charlie asks, sounding a bit surprised and slightly scared.

“The reaper’s name is Thomas, and he is very nice. He is who I’m looking for, so if you do see him, let me know,” I say with another beleaguered sigh.

“How will I know if I’m looking at a reaper?”

“Oh, believe me. You’ll know.” Emery shudders again, then takes off across the parking lot heading for the back door of the club. He holds up a fist and Tyros uncrosses his arms, giving him a fist bump. Before he heads through the door, he turns around and yells. “Come on Charlie, let’s go.”

“Seriously, Charlie. Don’t look at the harpies,” I repeat, in case he thinks I’m joking. I’ve witnessed those creatures tear flesh from bone and would hate for Charlie to run afoul of one of them.

“Harpies are dangerous. Got it.”

“I’m not joking.”

Charlie stops walking and instead hustles to get in front of me just as we nearly reach the door. He looks deep into my eyes and places his hands on my cheeks. “I know, Rex. I understand. No harpies.”

My heart squeezes as I smile, leaning in slightly to his touch. He moves forward and places a kiss to my lips, then pulls away, smoothing his thumbs down my cheekbones.

“Okay.” I nod. “Let’s get in there so Tyros can stop glaring at me.”

“Tyros?” Charlie asks, moving beside me and grabbing my hand. He threads his fingers through mine and turns to face the door.

“Yes?” Tyros comments, sounding unamused. His arms are back to being crossed across his broad chest and he huffs an impatient glance my way. “Hello, King.”

“Tyros,” I say by way of greeting. “May we enter?”

He rolls his eyes, then steps away from the door as Charlie watches, his eyes pinging between our faces. Tyros isn’t a fan of mine, nor has he been since he learned the truth of my bloodline. I cannot fault him for his assumptions given my brother murdered the members of his family one by one in cold blood, but that was hundreds of years ago. His mistrust runs far too deep for me to fathom.

“Old friend?” Charlie asks as we step through the doors of Borders.

“You could say that,” I respond. “You’d be wrong, but you could say that. Stick close to me, Charlie, and try not to stare at anyone.”

He nods, but I hear the sharp intake of breath as we walk from the darkened entryway into the main room of the club. A bar sits along the left side and to the right is a packed dancefloor. Fae creatures flit through the air, and in the corner, a wolf shifter in his fur sits lapping from a bowl of sparkling water on his table, as some of them like to do.

“Holy shit,” Charlie whispers, tucking himself into my side as a half-shifted panther walks past us, his tail flicking behind him.

I scan the crowd, and soon find Emery seated at a table towards the back along with a familiar face I know Charlie will appreciate seeing. I give his hand a squeeze, then lead him through the throngs of paranormal creatures to where he will be safe among friends at the back of the club.

“Charlie, you’re here!” Finn exclaims, shuffling over in his seat to make room for him. Charlie lets go of my hand and almost throws himself into the booth, moving close to Finn who I see has let his tail and claws out for the night. He flicks his tail at Charlie who offers a tentative smile. “Pretty, right? I told you.”

“This is wild,” Charlie murmurs, looking at me. “I see what you mean about not being ready for this place. I do see things that I want to paint though. Maybe an ancient cabin littered with neon fairies?”

“It’d sell,” Finn comments. “Richie would buy.”

“Who’s Richie?” Emery asks, and the two of them start gabbing about some lottery millionaire who apparently buys a pile of Charlie’s work. I put that name into my mind to check out later. With the interest in his paintings, I can’t quite rule out anyone who’s bought something of his in the past at this point. Charlie begins to settle as he chats with his friends, and I stand by the table, scanning the crowd for signs of Thomas.

I don’t spot him, but I do see Caius standing behind the bar, his keen eyes also scanning the gathered masses around him. He meets my gaze, raising an eyebrow questioningly, and I nod, indicating I’m coming over to chat. Turning back down to the table, I touch Charlie’s arm gently, causing him to look up at me.

“I’m heading to talk to Caius, you’re okay here?”

“I’m okay here,” he confirms, and I can’t resist leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek before I go.

I glance back when I’m steps away, my heart swelling to see not only Charlie with a smile on his face, but Emery sitting among beings he could someday call friends. I wish nothing more for him, save the mate I now know he wishes to have.

As I cross the club, heading for Caius, I can’t stop scanning the scene, searching for the reaper who may be able to answer every question I have and put my busy mind to rest. Charlie’s mind as well. Though he’s thrown himself into painting the mural and the canvas I asked of him, I know he lives with questions that linger without answers on most days.

“New partner?” Caius comments with a knowing smile as I approach him. His sleek black hair rests on his shoulder, and though he is the owner of this club and could easily wear something tight and tailored to show off his status, he wears a simple pair of black sweatpants and a plain grey t-shirt. I have always liked Caius for his easy, relaxed manner, but I do not for a moment doubt his ability to take down an enemy. Behind his friendly smile lies the heart of a big cat, after all.

“Charlie,” I offer with a smile. There is no need to keep secrets from my old friend. Though Caius is not part of my cobbled together family, he is the closest to being part of our little group of misfits at this point.

“Lovely. Did you come here to boast?”

I laugh, as his darkened eyes glimmer in the overhead light. “Not at all. I am looking for a reaper.”

“Thomas. I haven’t seen him in months, I’m afraid.”

“Shit.”

“Indeed,” Caius comments. “Why are you seeking a reaper? Do you have something that needs killing?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure yet. Just looking for information right now that only he can likely provide me.”

“Not The Owner? You know he has all the answers.”

“I’ve considered it, but the questions I have are too many and time isn’t on my side.” While The Magic Shop likely does have what I’m looking for, the time it takes to seek the answers to my list of questions among the endless books that line the shelves will be far too long. They’re probably all scrawled in cryptic sentences with hidden meanings and secrets dashed through the paragraphs as well. I need direct answers right from someone who knows the information, but perhaps Emery could be persuaded to gather information from The Owner for me. I’ll hold onto that thought for another day and come up with fair compensation for his efforts.

“Uh-oh.” Caius sighs, looking out across the club. “Excuse me, old friend. I see something that needs dealing with.”

He reaches for my arm, giving my shoulder a squeeze as he heads away from the bar and off towards the door where Tyros is having some kind of standoff with a blue-haired pixie. I stifle a laugh as the pixie slaps Tyros, spattering his black hoodie with silver glitter. Her wings shiver angrily as Caius steps into whatever the conversation is, and I turn away to glance at the table Charlie sits at.

Or rather, sat at, for he is now gone.

The table is empty.

A hollow opens inside me as I find nobody sitting at the table towards the back of the club. Heart thudding frantically behind my breastbone, I head for the spot he was last at, hoping that along the way I will find him, my brother or the wolf shifter he was with. Emery and Finn know to keep him safe, and while I know that Emery does come here to feed on occasion, he wouldn’t abandon a poor human in the midst of all of these creatures and beings. I try to tell myself that anyway, though it does nothing to quell the panic creeping up inside me. Scanning the crowd, I search for pink hair knowing that if anything will stand out to me in the mass of bodies, it will be Emery’s neon head.

And then I breathe a sigh of relief as I glance over the dancefloor, my eyes landing right on Charlie where he stands beneath the lights, dancing with Finn, Emery and, to my surprise, Gibson. Emery had to have dragged him out there with them. I watch in a moment of small amusement as Gibson moves around the circle, his legs stiff and the scowl set so deep in his face I swear he’s plotting Emery’s death with every step he takes.

Then I turn to Charlie and my heart leaps in my chest. He tilts his head back, smiling as he throws his hands in the air, his hips swinging with wild abandon. He is as graceful as his paintings there in the middle of the floor, and I can’t keep my eyes from locking on and watching, like this is a private show and I am the only one here. I wasn’t hungry before stepping foot in the club. I’ve taken bits of Charlie throughout the weeks as he’s offered his blood to me but watching him move his body in ways I’ve never seen from him before has my entire body warming like the swaying of his hips are setting me on fire from the inside out.

And suddenly, I am famished.