Venus City 1 (35 page)

He was at her side then, handing them to her. She took the vial, and stared at it, not particularly interested.

Asher was scanning the letter. “Braya, you should read this. It's really important.”

She didn't respond.

“Fine,” he groaned, irritated. “I'll read it to you.”

To Miss Braya Vace,

First, I want to express my deepest regrets for how things have turned out. I wish I could be telling you these things I’m about to reveal to you in person, but as it is, that is not possible. The circumstances have become worse than I foresaw.

Next, I should warn you about a certain man. His name is Sir Channing, as I'm sure you know since you recognized him exiting my room that one time. I cannot be sure of everything he means to do, but his intentions are far darker than you might have expected. He is not a Venusian and nothing about him is to be trusted. He's been in Venus City for the past six months in search of a way to take over Venus Sare. I don't know why he wants it for himself, the possibilities are endless, but I am quite sure that is what he wants. The reason I'm telling you this is because I think you're in grave danger.

For Channing to acquire the power of the Sare, as far as I’m aware, he needs to kill everyone in the existing family bloodline because the Sare is loyal to Camille's bloodline. Ophelia's bloodline. That includes me, and that also includes you. By now you must have learned that Charlotte Malister is not your mother. No, you are born of a much greater family. You are a member of the Vacelind line. Ophelia is your mother, as she is of Aspen. This is something too great to be uncovered in a letter, but as I said before, I have no choice in the matter. I hope I can discuss with you in person more about our family when the time comes.

Back to my point, child. Channing is ruthless. He has killed almost all of our previously existing family members. Right now the only people he believes to be alive are you and Ophelia. He knows of your connection to her, yes. He propositioned Charlotte Malister to kill Aspen, which was why he was in the hospital. Over the past few weeks he's been visiting me and blackmailing me to inform him of any family members he hadn't found. Now that he believes Aspen to be dead, I'm sure he will be here soon to kill me. That is why I'm writing this letter to you. I've taken your brother, do not worry. He and I are in hiding for now, but you must also hide yourself from this man. He only needs one living heir to transfer the blood loyalty to his family, and he can use either you or Ophelia, which means you are both in danger. I've tried to converse with Ophelia over this, but she won't listen to any of it. I fear she's fallen in love with him.

Braya, as your aunt, I implore you to heed my warning. Protect yourself. Do not let Channing get hold of you.

Additionally, here is the cure that I promised. I hope that Bellamine finds it well. I want to apologize for being difficult. Retrieving this was not easy. I don’t have unlimited access to Venus Sare, and as such, am not practiced in its magic.

After I had heard about Bellamine’s condition from your brother almost a year ago, I immediately went in search of a cure. That is why I had that medicine at the ready and was able to give it to you right away. I’m sure you’ve been wondering; I couldn't get in touch with your brother in person, it was too dangerous for him, which was why we had you come to me in search of the cure. You see, Channing didn't know about your brother at that time, and I feared if Aspen were ever seen with me, Channing might make the connection. Unfortunately, even though I took those precautions, Channing found out about Aspen one way or another. I knew Channing was aware of your connection to our family, though, otherwise he wouldn't have been using you. Yes, I am aware that you were forced to work for the Locer Sharks. That's why it was safe for you to make contact with me and not for your brother to do so, because Channing knew of you, I mean.

Anyway, child, I didn't have clearance to access the Sare in order to make that medicine, and unfortunately I was caught. Ophelia let me off with a warning, but I was never to return to the vault again. When I made you wait three weeks for our appointment, I'm sure you were frustrated, and I'm terribly sorry about that, child. I had to get back in contact with Ophelia in order to get the cure. Many times she ignored my pleas, and at one point I had feared I wouldn't get it at all. That was at the same time you happened across me in the hall, when I told you there was no cure. At length, I just want to apologize for all of the grief I've caused. I hope this cure can make up for my mistakes.

Be safe.

My Regards,

Leraphone.

Mother Ophelia…her mother? The irony was almost funny. Yet Braya couldn't find the energy to care. Nothing in that letter struck her as important as losing her sister.

“Braya?” Asher asked, shaking her shoulder. “Braya, were you listening to this letter?”

She gave the slightest nod.

“Come on, what are you going to do?” He asked, flustered. She was distinctly aware that his eyes were their mismatched blue and gold tones, but she didn't acknowledge it. “We need to get you out of here, right away.”

“Channing is your boss,” she said, somber and slow.

“Yeah, so what?” He sounded perpetually frustrated. She'd never heard him so irritated, so helplessly desperate. “Fuck him to hell,” he swore passionately. “I'll do whatever it takes to keep you protected.”

“You knew his plan,” she continued, not showing any of her surprise at his foul language. “You lied to me, before. You said you were here to warn us about war. It has nothing to do with that, it turns out.”

“I didn't know anything of that,” Asher yelled. “Have you ever seen him down in that damn chapel? We even dug out that stupid balcony and had to take care of the flowers in that wall and find all the crystals for it, all so Channing could have a place of spiritual rest. He said it would help him meditate, help increase his ability to control magic. But guess what? He never goes there! He hates being underground. He's
above
that,” he said with a snort. “He worked his way into Ophelia's graces, charmed her, acquired a cushy position in her Court. It's even confirmed in this letter!” He waved it in the air like a mad man, half of it crumpled in his angry fist. “She's in
love
with him. I haven't seen him since we got to Venus City. How would I have known anything about this?”

“You must be as surprised as I am, then,” she said, deathly level and toneless. Braya was staring at the contents of the vial, the purple liquid sloshing against the sides.

“Funny,” he said sardonically. “You're nearly jumping up in shock.”

“I am surprised,” she countered, though without conviction.

“But it doesn't matter to you,” he concluded, staring at her in wild longing. His dark hair was mussed up in certain places, adding a certain flare to his anger. It was dangerously attractive, too, when coupled with the hard mounds of his cheekbones, especially pronounced in his anger, and the vivid coals of gold and blue burning under the hood of his long lashes. “You've given up.”

“I lost,” Braya murmured, barely audible. She held the purple vial up. “This is the symbol of my failure. Bellamine's cure, a second too late. That's me. Always a second too late. Always behind the curve, always out of the loop. And Bellamine had to pay for my faults.”

“It's not your fault,” Asher attempted to convince her. He was desperate. The thinness of his voice was not flattering on him. He was trying to yank her to her feet, but Braya grew limp in his hands. “You don't have to blame yourself for this. There's still time. This—” He flapped the letter in her face. “This is your key. You're finally ahead of the curve now.”

Braya let out a shuddering laugh. It was mirthless. Dark. “It's too late, ironically.”

“My God, Braya, if you don't help yourself, I'll
force
you to,” he hissed into her ear.

Braya gave a sinister smile at that. “Try me.”

“Braya, come with me.” It was firm, it was direct. It was an order.

Braya could feel her body moving to accommodate his command. She fought it.
Braya, come with me.
His voice trickled through the back of her mind, a stream of warm water across her skin. It felt so pleasant, so convincing. Braya inhaled at the sharp pain that followed; the tight grip squeezing her, making her chest feel impossibly narrow. The chilling fingers were grazing across her back like knives cutting into paper. She let out a loud cry as a final wave crashed down on her, and she let the sweet darkness encircle her. Finally, a respite.

Everything was in full swing for the weddings that day. Fifty couples were getting married, so it was a grand occasion. Brielle was fluttering around the room in a constant panic, throwing clothes from the closet, announcing Moon Tamer news, and tossing compliments to her three roommates. Emma floated back and forth from the bedroom to the closet, making snide comments to Brielle and occasionally asking about Moon Tamer stats. Maydessa was in the bathroom for most of the time, applying layers of makeup and burning her hair into tight ringlets, with the frequent cry of annoyance at Brielle.

Braya, on the other hand, moved through her routine without much conviction. She didn't want the others to detect that anything was wrong—she loathed their sympathy more than she loathed her situation.

All that remained of last night was a numbness, and Braya was thankful for it. Aside from that, life moved on as if nothing remotely out of the ordinary had happened last night. As if her life hadn't been upturned in the course of one night. She wished she could forget, but she couldn't—no matter how hard she tried.

Leraphone's letter and the antidote to Tristant was still at her bedside, though tucked out of view from the other three, Braya knew it was there. She almost felt like they were watching her as she got ready, privy to her disregard of the warning Leraphone had issued.

Upon waking that morning, she'd considered the contents of Leraphone's letter. Should she save herself? Keep herself hidden from Channing so that he couldn't steal the blood loyalty of the Venus Sare...? Braya had decided against it. She had failed her sister—she could only imagine going through the process again and failing someone else who counted on her. Braya was a failure and she wouldn't bring that on anyone else, ever again.

She would marry Latham, or whoever they chose to replace him. She would live a quiet, normal life and forget all of this had ever happened. If Channing was killing her family members—family she'd never known were related to her—and was really after her like Leraphone had claimed, she would not stop him. He could take her, if he wished. He wouldn't get the blood loyalty if he killed her anyway, not with Leraphone and Aspen and Ophelia still alive. What would her one sacrifice mean, anyway? Absolutely nothing.

“The game is going to start before I go down the aisle!” Brielle cried, sitting at the edge of her bed, staring down at her tech-arm. “How long are each of the ceremonies supposed to take?”

“Five minutes each,” Emma replied.

“So that means I'll miss ten minutes of the game,” Brielle mused. “Or maybe I should just keep listening to it while we're getting married. Certainly there's no harm in it while I'm walking down the aisle, and when the officiant is talking.
Really,
the only time I need to be concentrating on the ceremony is when we get to kiss.”

“Why didn't you apply to be on a Moon Tamer team instead of a Bride?” Maydessa asked haughtily. “You're not taking this very seriously.”

“That was my first and second choice,” Brielle exclaimed. “I wanted to be a warrior or a healer, but my dad told me I should have something realistic, so I had Bride as my third option.”

“Unbelievable,” Maydessa muttered. “And I suppose you didn't have Bride as your first choice either?” She shot her question in Emma's direction.

Emma shrugged. “Not really.”

“Here we are, Grade Three Brides, and I'm
still
the only one who cares about this,” Maydessa bemoaned, disappearing into the bathroom once more.

“Braya, do you need to do your makeup?” Brielle asked, seeing that all Braya had done was wash her face and brush her hair. “We can kick Maydessa out if you need time.”

“God knows she has enough makeup on for the rest of her marriage,” Emma added.

“I can hear you guys, you know,” Maydessa hollered from the bathroom.

“Well, stop hogging the space,” Emma barked.

“It's our wedding day, too,” Brielle pointed out, though she had gotten lost in the game statistics once more.

Braya didn't say anything to them. Instead of going into the bathroom, she pulled up a portable mirror from her nightstand and did her makeup sitting on her bed. Once she was done with that, she extended it so that it was a full-length mirror and she did her hair in elegant twists, and added a few white ribbons. When her appearance was acceptable, she donned her wedding dress. Had this been any other circumstance, had her sister survived, she would be excited for the wedding just because of the dress. The fabric across her chest was layered like multiple flower petals pressed over each other, and the off-the-shoulder sleeves were so ruffly and elaborate that they stuck out from her shoulders almost like wings. The sleeves were long and hid her hands from view, drooping wide like sacks under her wrists. She had a thick, four-inch, lace twist across her middle, and her skirt was long, fluid, and layered like the piece across her chest. Exquisite detailing lined every seam, and the soft silk of the inside brought a nice chill to her flushed skin. Bellamine would have loved it.