I doubled his shot, and gave him the glass. He raised it and I raised my own glass, clinking it with his. I sipped, letting the burning taste linger on my tongue for a bit.
“You have a… bit of plaster in your hair,” Kane said. He reached forward, and touched my hair. For a moment his face was close to mine, and I could feel his breath on my face, his grass-green eyes staring intently into mine. My palms were trembling. I didn’t know if it was because of his proximity or because of the intense work I’d been doing, but I didn’t care. I may have fallen for this guy during a job, but it was real this time, not some sort of juvenile crush that would end in disappointment. And he came back. He was here. My lips parted slightly, and I moved forward, shutting my eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t back away, feeling expectant and anxious. His lips touched mine, and one arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me to him, and the kiss was warm, and passionate, the taste of whisky on both our tongues, and all I wanted to do was melt into him.
And then he pulled back.
“I can’t,” he said, his face twisted in sadness and pain.
I blinked. “What? Why the hell not?”
“I like you, Lou, I really do, but… my sister.”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean you stop living, right?”
“Her soul is somewhere.” His voice was on edge, ragged. “And as long as I’m alive, I can’t let anything distract me from trying to get her back. I can’t let anyone distract me. You understand that, right?”
The right thing to do was to nod, to tell him I understand. Of course, any moment he spent not trying to save his sister’s soul was a moment lost. Every minute he spent with me was a minute he could be spending researching arcane rituals to restore souls. Every hour he’d be in my bed was an hour he could be scouring the streets, looking for a cure. Every night we would cuddle together was a night he could be doing some sort of work to pay for the hospital bills that kept her body alive.
But I didn’t nod. I gritted my teeth, and glanced away, feeling the tears in my throat. I wouldn’t let him see them, no matter what.
“Lou, I—”
“It’s fine, I get it. I really need to hang this shelf. And you should talk to Isabel. She’s the expert on souls, right?”
He hovered behind me, and I hoped he would say that he’d had a change of heart—that of course he could let me into his life, that it didn’t mean he’d stop searching for a cure. That it just meant he could let himself live while he did it.
But then I heard the door of my shop opening and shutting, as he left.
I could cry now, throw myself on the counter, trembling in a sobbing fit, woe is me, the love of my life will not love me back. Perhaps I could smash a jar in a fit of rage, or go take a shower, letting my tears mingle with the water and the soapsuds. Full of pathos. The jilted girl, her broken heart, et cetera.
But I didn’t do that. Emotions should be shut in a vault, buried deeply, never to see the light of day. After all, I had to be true to my motto, let it fester.
Instead I poured myself another shot of wondrous stupidifier and swallowed it in one gulp, some of it dribbling down my chin, because life mocks those who try to act dramatically. Then I returned to my shelf, which was the most crooked one yet. But it was good enough.
After finishing with it, I walked over to the lab and approached the safe. I unlocked it, pulling the door open. The crystal sat inside it. Light pulsed weakly within its core, a shimmering golden glow.
I picked it up, carelessly gripping it in my hand. I should have known better. An alchemist never touches a magical crystal directly, unless she’s sure it’s safe.
The surface felt warm, pulsing, alive.
A single image flashed in my mind, of a club, the music pulsing in my chest, hundreds of people dancing in the smoky hall, the lights flickering from purple to red to blue.
I’d never been there before in my life. It was someone else’s memory.
Another soul.
I nearly dropped it in shock. Instead, I grabbed the chain that held it, letting go of the crystal itself. I held it up to my eyes, saw it glow brighter than ever before.
The Yliaster crystal was not a myth. I was holding it. There was a soul inside.
And if it was there, maybe I could find a way to free it. And if I managed that, could I find a way to free Kane’s sister’s soul as well?
Of course I could. I thought back to Kane’s hopeful look when he’d asked if I could help. He’d said I was special.
I was Lou fucking Vitalis. A vampire had called me legendary. I’d beaten Boston’s most notorious criminal, killing him and his goons. I’d broken into a dragon’s lair, stealing Pandora’s box from him. I’d stopped the end of the world. I was totally bitchin’, the bee’s knees, peachy-keen.
I would find a lost soul, and get it back.