Death Song (Tales from the Tarot)

17. Rex

Chapter seventeen

Rex

“ I t could be Nikandros,” Emery announces, grabbing a piece of bacon off my plate and stuffing it into his mouth.

“How do you know?” I ask, protecting the rest of my food from him. I only have a few pieces of bacon left and they are mine.

He grins, hoisting a book onto the countertop. He taps the front of it with a fingertip. “It says only blood can raise blood. That’s the rules. If we believe that Nikandros could have created an heir or two, it could be him.”

Charlie hums thoughtfully from his perch beside me at the counter, his barstool squeaking as he moves to grab a slice of toast from the plate that is meant for sharing. He takes a bite, then chews it slowly like he is thinking. “How do we find someone carrying his blood?”

“That is information I do not have, but if someone would lend me their fancy car for another night, I could be convinced to seek it out.” Emery offers with a grin as he reaches for my plate again, clearly wanting more of my bacon.

I smack his hand away and shove the last piece into my own mouth as Charlie laughs. “Get your own breakfast.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll have a muffin. Do we have muffins?” Emery turns around and starts searching through cupboards before I have a chance to tell him that we do, and they’re in the freezer. He’ll figure it out eventually, I suppose.

“What about Colin?” Charlie asks, nibbling at his toast like he’s lost his appetite. “He’s mean enough to be your brother’s blood. Then again, maybe he doesn’t have a client after all and we are grasping at straws here. Maybe it’s just him being an asshole as per usual, wanting to make more money off my work.”

“Did he do that when you were together?”

He sighs. “Somewhat. I was a prop to him. A sort of thing he could pull out of his pocket in front of his rich friends and have them be in awe of, but he never liked my art. He didn’t like much about me, really.”

“Was he mean to you?” Emery asks, turning to face us.

“He was,” Charlie admits. “The night he left was the worst of it. He was always a bit violent, but that night was bad.”

“I’ll kill him,” Emery blurts as I say the exact same thing.

Charlie shrugs, then lets loose a small laugh that sounds uncomfortable. “Finn wants to kill him too, you’re in good company. It’s fine. We’ve parted ways and aside from this theft, I haven’t seen him. Like, he hasn’t sought me out again, or whatever. I haven’t felt comfortable going back to my loft since he broke in, but Bowman has friends keeping an eye on the place. If Colin does go there again, Bowman will let me know.”

Silence isn’t safety. I know this, but I don’t have to say as much out loud because I get the feeling Charlie understands this as well. My stomach bubbles with anger at the thought that someone once laid hands on my Charlie. My mate. I turn to look into Charlie’s eyes, seeing his worry there like my anger is affecting him. “I will kill him, if he comes for you again. I could kill him anyway, if you’d like.”

“I don’t know what part he plays in all of this,” Charlie muses. “It could be a matter of Colin simply seeking connection to power and money. He’s always trying to climb the social ladder, wherever he goes and maybe having my paintings gives him something like that. That’s all I meant by my comment.”

I hope for his sake, Charlie is right, because if I find him at some point with more blood than paint on his hands, I won’t hesitate to end him whether he be my extended family by blood or not.

“Muffins!” Emery exclaims, finally opening the freezer. He pulls out a bag of blueberry mini-muffins and holds it up like a prize. “Want one? They’re fantastic toasted.”

“Sure,” Charlie responds with a hesitant smile, abandoning his picked over toast on his plate. “I could use some sugar.”

“Rex?” Emery asks, and I decline. My stomach is churning with thoughts about Colin and what he could be up to, things I’ve pushed to the back of my mind coming to the forefront. While I’ve been getting to know Charlie, the problem of his paintings being taken has simmered in the background, and though I have made steps to uncover the meaning behind it, I have been lax in my pursuit. I hope this lack of attention doesn’t spell danger for him. For me.

“Hey,” Charlie whispers, nudging me with his elbow and pulling me from my thoughts. “It’s good. Knowing Nikandros could come back is a good thing. Better to be aware now than find out by surprise later.”

I nod because it is, but still something weighs heavy on me I cannot put to words. Charlie nudges me again and I turn my face to him. He leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips, then pulls back to look into my eyes. “I love you, okay?”

“And I you. What have you got planned for this evening?”

“I have a mural to finish,” he replies with a smile. “But I could be convinced to do something else if you’re interested.”

Emery makes a gagging noise, then slides a plate of toasted muffins towards Charlie. “I’ll take that as my cue to leave. Don’t be gross in the kitchen. We eat here.”

“I was thinking of going to Borders,” Charlie offers with a smile.

“Oh, wait,” Emery says with a smile of his own. “I could be convinced of that. Let’s go.”

I lean over to Charlie. “You liked it there?”

“I liked the way you looked at me when I was there.”

That works for me, because I like the way he looks when he is dancing beneath the lights of the club. Hips swinging to the beat, head tilted up to the sky, and a smile so beautiful it lights up the room, making me forget that sunlight exists. “We can go.”

“No harpies,” he offers with a smile, giving me one more kiss before biting into his muffin.

Borders is jam packed tonight, as it is almost every other night. I keep thinking that someday it will be emptier, but when there’s only one real gathering safe for all manner of creature that exist in this city the chances of that are few and far between.

Tyros scowls as I walk by him with Charlie’s hand in mine, but he hasn’t positioned himself in the middle of the doorway blocking our path so perhaps there’s been a slight change in his thoughts towards me over these past weeks. Then again, perhaps I know where that change has come from. Charlie grins at him as we walk by, but as I head for the door, he pulls me back, looking up at the vampire security guard.

He slowly raises his fist like Emery does whenever he sees Tyros, giving him a questioning look, and my heart trips over itself as Tyros’s lips curl into a small smile. He moves his hand and creates a meaty fist of his own, giving Charlie’s knuckles the slightest bump before crossing his arms and going right back to scowling at me.

“Impressive,” I murmur as Charlie and I head for the door.

“He’s all right,” Charlie responds. “Just a bit of a grumpy shit. He bowed his head to you the last time we were here. I think he’s just hurting in some way.”

I hadn’t realized he’d done that, and as I turn around to confirm that we are talking about the same vampire, I catch Tyros watching my back like he’s still standing guard over me as he once did. I nod to him, and he turns away promptly, scowling into the night air. Not all solved then, but I’ll take it at this point.

We enter the club and Charlie lights up as he sees the strobing lights of the dancefloor and the crowd of beings moving through the space. Unlike before, he seems excited to be here and less worried about his presence. I can still feel a bit of hesitation, particularly when a shriek echoes through the club from one of the harpies over in the right-hand booth, but he doesn’t look and that much is heartening.

“I told you,” I say, pulling him close. “Harpies.”

“What a horrible noise.”

I nod my agreement. They are ugly creatures too, typically living in the woods and keeping much to themselves. It’s rare to catch sight of one, save for Borders which has become their second home.

Finn and Emery sit at the same booth as the first time we were here, smiling and waving at Charlie, and perhaps myself as well. Scanning the crowd as we make our way over to the table, I catch sight of Gibson tucked into a darkened corner, his teeth stuck deep in the neck of a half-shifted panther, his human eyes closed but pitch-black tail flicking on the table as my friend drinks from him.

“Wild night,” Finn comments as we reach the table. “I’ve never seen Borders like this before.”

“Is there some kind of convention in town?” Charlie asks with a grin as he slides into the booth beside his friend.

“Welcome to the third annual Harpies Are Loud convention,” jokes Emery as another shriek pierces through the music of the club. “Be sure to tip your waiter.”

“They are restless tonight. I wonder what’s up.” I risk a glance at the table in time to see one lean over and sink its beak into another’s feathers, ripping a mouthful out as another angry noise echoes through the club. Strange behavior, or maybe it isn’t. I don’t know much about harpies, but I see they’ve caught Caius’ attention and he’s heading over to speak with them.

As Charlie chats with Finn and Emery, I scan the crowd again, getting a sense for who is all here. And that is when I see the darkened figure seated at the end of the bar, his black hood pulled so low over his face that I can’t see anything save for his porcelain chin. I squint into the blackness that surrounds him, watching as he reaches for the glass in front of him with a hand wearing a black glove and then I know that finally I have found him.

Thomas. The reaper.

Though Emery did research as I asked him to do in exchange for a night with my car, I still have questions that perhaps he knows the answers to. Charlie catches my movement and grabs my arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just see Thomas at the bar. I’m going to go chat with him. Want a drink when I return?”

“Sure,” he responds, craning his neck to look at the back of the club. It takes him a moment to spot Thomas, but he finally does. “That’s a reaper? That’s a guy in a hoodie.”

“Ah, but would you have noticed him hidden back there if I hadn’t pointed him out?” Charlie shakes his head, catching on quickly. “Exactly, they dress mostly to hide within a crowd, though sometimes to ease a passing depending on who they are taking. I’ll be right back. I want to catch him before he leaves.”

I press a quick kiss to Charlie’s cheek, then rise from the table, keeping my eyes on Thomas just in case he intends to leave quickly. Reapers have the ability to open rifts in space and time, slipping in and out of places within a split second. As I get close though, a shriek rises from the table of harpies, the cacophony loud enough that the music cuts out and all that is left is screams of anger and pain.

It draws my attention for a split second, and when I turn back to the bar, Thomas has disappeared from his spot, his glass still sitting there half full. Glancing at the harpies’ table again, I catch a glimpse of him in the ruckus, his gloved hand exposed as he touches a hapless human caught up in the mix of feathers on the chest. Before my eyes, he blinks out of view, leaving the human’s body to fall to the ground of the club. Caius and Tyros stand there before the scene of blood and feathers, heads together deep in conversation. The rest of the harpies slowly settle at the table, their talons kicking at the human that has now died until he is shoved from their space. Whatever that was about, I’m not sure, but as the music comes back on, Thomas appears by the table that Charlie sits at, his gloved hand exposed and extended towards my mate.

My heart kicks in my chest as Emery places himself in front of Charlie and I rush over as fast as my feet will carry to grip the back of his hoodie and yank him backwards. Thomas falls to the ground on the club and Caius raises his head, his eyes narrowing at me. I am breaking the rules of the club, I know, but as far as I am concerned he’s broken them first by reaching for Charlie with his ungloved hand.

“What are you doing, Reaper?” I demand, as Thomas pulls himself from the floor and adjusts the hood covering his face so that only his chin may be seen.

“There is something in there,” he offers, though he sounds uncertain about his own words. “I cannot get the sense of it, but it is not quite right.”

“I’m not right?” Charlie asks, his face paling as he stares at Thomas.

“Not quite.”

“If you touch him, I will find out a way to kill you myself,” I vow as Thomas keeps his focus on Charlie. “I will face The Harbinger for him, I swear it.”

“Can you not feel it?” Thomas whispers, tilting his hooded face to my mate. “The war inside you? The fight and the pain it is causing inside of you in your most vulnerable moments?”

Charlie swallows hard, then slowly nods his head. “I sense some things, but only when I wake up from sleep. I don’t want to die though. The Owner said I wasn’t going to die.”

Thomas leans forward, lifting the hood off his face and peering into Charlie’s eyes with his own. I cannot see his face, but Charlie’s eyes have gone as wide as saucers as the reaper reveals his true self to him and him alone. Finally, Thomas stands up and adjusts his hood again.

“I must seek guidance,” he announces. “You are not to be reaped, but there is something not quite right.”

“So you’ve said,” I offer, as Thomas takes a step away from the table, sending relief scattering through me like a wave. “I am sorry for harming you, Thomas, but he is my mate and I cannot survive without him.”

Thomas is silent for a moment and I think he’s done speaking but before he disappears into the ether of a portal between time and space he asks, “Which part of him is your mate, I wonder? The man or the wolf he is holding captive inside?”