Page 20 of Ever Dark Academy: Volume 6

He’s had enough heartbreak in this life, Ryder said softly.

He’d only gotten bits and pieces out of Grayson about this life. But even in those slivers of tales, it had been very clear that things had been hard and cold and difficult. For Grayson to want to shed this life and its lessons like a snake shed its skin meant that his beloved simply didn’t want to remember them and carry them with him.

Yes, we really did all get the newspaper to the nose more than once in this life, didn’t we? Balthazar sounded a little sour. But it had to happen this way. Seeyr wouldn’t have allowed us to experience any pain that wasn’t absolutely necessary.

Yet Grayson had not been the one that started the War or kept it going or caused any of its atrocities. So why should he have to suffer? What lessons did his beloved have to learn?

His memory flashed back to Ashyr on a battlefield. One of countless. Ashyr had been clad in blood armor. His face was obscured by a bird-like visor. The moons shone down upon him and he glittered like a fallen star. Staring out at the army of monsters that wanted this slice of the Ever Dark as their own, Ashyr was implacable. None would stand before them long. All would fall. He was brilliant and untouchable. Like frost on a windowpane or cold steel at one’s throat.

In the beginning, Ryder had wanted to see if Ashyr could melt. If he could but get any reaction out of the other Immortal. Kaly might have pretended to be cold, but his indifference was only a thin skin over a roiling sea of emotion. Ashyr was different. He truly was disengaged. Distant. Hard. Beautiful. Like a diamond.

It had been a challenge to get those silver eyes to turn towards him. To see those cheeks flush with color. To have those lips part with a moan. He’d felt like a conquering warrior the first time they’d made love. He’d howled at the moons. But Ashyr had truly conquered him. For after that, Ryder had not been able to stop thinking of the other Immortal, of needing him, of hungering for him on every level, and being Ashyr’s own. And no matter how much time had passed between then and now, it was still the same.

He needs you, Balthazar said, bringing him back to the moment. Regardless.

I shall be there momentarily.

And he was not far away. But it was strange that he would find Charlie out here. Not only was Charlie not a fan of cemeteries, but he wasn’t much of a fan of the outdoors. Big cities were where most Mirryrs made their homes. In the heart of humanity. They loved nothing more than walking through crowded streets, pressed practically cheek to jowl, with others. So he was surprised to see the Mirryr Vampire out here.

“Well, hello there, Ryder… or should I call you Weryn now?” Charlie was in his foppish aristocrat form and was carrying a bottle of blood wine. He appeared tipsy, but that was likely an act unless there was Kaly corpse powder in it.

“Whatever you like.” Ryder shrugged. “We’re friends so… whatever is more comfortable.”

He found that he responded to both, because he was both.

Charlie lifted sculpted brows. “Friends? Well, yes, of course we are!” But he sounded like he was surprised, but pleased. Realizing that his reaction had not gone unnoticed, Charlie added, “It’s just that all the older Vampires act like to know you is to lower oneself. You and the other Immortals are so down to earth.”

“We do try,” Ryder said dryly.

“But for those who don’t realize that I can pretend that I’m very important as I can call you and Balthazar my friends!” Charlie chuckled happily.

“Indeed. You and Balthazar knew one another before he was aware he was Eyros? Even when he was an exile?” Ryder asked.

Charlie bobbed his head. “Oh, yes, he and I have shared many bottles of blood wine together. Though this one,” he shook the empty bottle, “is done.” He sighed and tossed it into the bushes. Seeing Ryder’s horrified expression, he added, “They disappear! The Ever Dark just takes them and poof! Surely, you know that? Or is that something new?”

Ryder’s memory clicked on. “Yes, yes, you’re right. The Ever Dark absorbs the material and reuses it.”

That might explain where the blood wine in his own cellar kept coming from no matter how many he and his Bloodline seemed to put away.

“So it’s not littering. It’s recycling.” Charlie touched the side of his nose.

“Right.” Ryder let out a laugh. “But what brings you out here? Come to check out the Kaly show?”

“Oh, if only! Lisette was very clear we weren’t allowed to peek. Despite some improvements since Caemorn took things over, the Kaly really still are kill-joys,” Charlie sniffed. “They were allowed to come to our party! You were there, too. We didn’t object. But we weren’t allowed to be at theirs!”

“I think they want the students to have a personal, private interaction with the dead,” Ryder said with equanimity. “It’s nothing against the Mirryrs.”

“Yes, I suppose. But I bet the whole show was quite exciting!” Charlie sighed. “Who would you like to meet who passed away?

Ryder thought about that for long moments. “Too many and none at all.”

“I sometimes wonder about my brother. He died ages ago, of course,” Charlie said. “But I still sometimes think that I need to tell him about this or that happening. I wonder what he would say. I can still hear his laugh.”

“You didn’t consider turning him?” Ryder asked tentatively.

This was often a fraught conversation. While most modern humans wouldn’t have any religious objections to becoming a Vampire, back in the day there was far more fear.

“I would have! But he died before I was turned. The Black Death,” Charlie explained.