NP in Vincent's Playlist: The Lie Eternal by Poets of the Fall
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All illusions broken in your embrace.
I'm here, I'm now, arrived I fell into your love,
I fell into your lie eternalWe dragged Cairo all the way back to the castle. Once there, Belial took care of the nutcase. And I, with nothing left to do, headed for my master's room.
Vladimir was gone when I arrived. For what seemed like hours, I sat beside Vincent's bed, watching him. Just... watching.
Over and over, Adrianna's words rang in my head. A cycle of death, suffering and more death. I remembered the room full of portraits in Sinclair Mansion and imagined Vincent painting every one of them in the hope that they would always be remembered. When I thought about it that way, I realized it could only be the saddest thing in the universe. To bear the burden of the past, that is.
"Hey," Vincent whispered.
I was so spaced out I didn't even notice he had already come to. "How are you feeling?"
He tried to get up, only to fall on his back again. "Ugh, like hell. Fires and all. You?"
I shrugged. Honestly, I didn't know. After everything that happened, it was getting hard to feel anything. And this hole Alessandra carved inside me, it was just there, growing, eating whatever of me was left.
He scanned our surroundings. The second he realized we were inside one of the castle bedrooms, he went straight to panic mode. He began pushing himself up, groaning in pain as he did.
"What're we still doing here?"
"Relax," I told him. "It's okay."
"Okay?" he echoed. "How can it be okay, Aramis? We're in my father's lair, right where he wants us."
I dropped my gaze. "They're... uh... talking right now. Everything should be... alright."
"They?" He knitted his brows. "Since when did talking ever solve anything with us?"
I was about to explain when he began limping towards the door. Before he could reach halfway, blood already seeped into his white shirt. The pain had him doubling over.
As much as I wanted to help, I couldn't even touch him. I ran out the door and saw Amyr and Alexis coming.
"Guys! Some help, please!" I shouted.
They came in, scythes ready.
"Where's it?" Amyr asked, flaunting his broadsword.
"Guys," I hissed. "Seriously? You think Jason X broke in? Unsummon those before you poke somebody's eye out!"
The two of them exchanged meaningful glances before letting their scythes falter.
"Well someone's crabby," Amyr muttered. "Is it that time of the month already?"
Frowning, I crossed my arms over my chest. "You mean that time of the month when I just can't wait to kick you in the crotch? Well that's every day. Now help Vincent up."
He made a face. "You didn't say the magic word."
I sighed. "Please."
"With pleasure."
"I've a better idea," Vincent panted snidely. "Get a room, you two. And work that poison-thing of yours on him, will you?"
Alexis and Amyr helped Vincent back to his bed. He was trying not to let the pain show on his face, but the sweat on his forehead told me otherwise.
YOU ARE READING
Reapers - Master of Souls (Reapers Chronicles Book III)
FantasyWhat's dead should stay dead. When you mess with the natural order, things could go horribly wrong. Having a six-hundred year old rotting soul, for example. Or discovering that your boss is the son of the Devil. I am Aramis Rayne. Full-time familiar...