CHAPTER 2: WHEN THE VEIL BREATHES
1195 Words
Evelyn didn't recall choosing to grasp Lucien's hand.
One moment, she was standing in the rubble of her flat, pulse thumping, shadows still hanging in the room's corners. Next, her fingers were wrapped around his warm, strong, genuine, and he was pushing her toward the door as if he had done this before.
As if they have done this before.
"Wait," she cried, terror constricting her chest. "I need my bag. My phone"
"No time," Lucien answered sternly.
The windows rattled. The walls moaned as something big had moved underneath the structure.
Lucien muttered beneath his breath in a tongue she didn't comprehend. He tightened his grasp on her palm and forced the door open.
The hallway lights flashed furiously as they rushed—paintings bordering the hallway twisted on their hangers, their features dissolving into looks of wordless screaming. The air smelled weird, burned, and metallic.
Evelyn's pulse screamed in her ears.
"This isn't happening," she muttered. "This can't be happening."
Lucien gazed at her, silver eyes softening for half a heartbeat.
"I wish it weren't," he added. "But denial won't save you."
They dashed through the stairway door just as a shadow banged into it from the other side. The metal buckled inward.
Evelyn shouted.
Lucien flung his hand out. Light blazed intensely, blinding. Symbols scorched into the stairway walls, old and sharp-edged. The door sealed with a tremendous bang.
The shadow shouted, muted, enraged.
Lucien pulled her downward, flight after flight, until her lungs burned and her legs shook.
They emerged onto the rain-soaked street, neon lights reflected in puddles like broken stars. The city looked like the identical vehicles passing, people smiling beneath umbrellas, yet it felt odd. Too quiet. Like the world was holding its breath.
Lucien stopped suddenly.
"Do you feel that?" he inquired.
Evelyn nodded slowly.
"The air feels… heavy."
His jaw stiffened.
"The Veil is thinning."
A faint murmur rippled along the street. Streetlights flickered, faded, then gleamed with an odd violet shine. Reflections in windows lagged behind reality, moving a second too slow.
Evelyn's stomach twisted.
"Lucien… What's happening to my city?"
His speech was hardly heard over the rain.
"It's waking up."
A scream resonated from someplace down the street.
Lucien whirled, eyes burning.
"Run."
They sprinted.
The scream stopped suddenly.
Evelyn's chest burned as Lucien drew her into a tight alley. The air shimmered, rippling like fire across asphalt.
He pulled her gently against the brick wall, his body covering hers. For a single second, the world constricted to the sound of rain and the feel of him so near.
"Stay silent," he whispered.
Something crossed the opening of the alley.
Evelyn caught her breath as a towering, skeleton figure glided past, its shape scarcely substantial, sewn together from darkness and bone. Its sunken eyes swept the street hungrily.
A Veil Reaper.
It halted.
Lucien's arm tightened around her.
The Reaper c****d its head, smelling the air like a dog.
Evelyn's heart thumped so hard she was convinced she could hear it.
Then a faraway siren wailed.
The Reaper recoiled, hissing, and disintegrated into smoke that slithered down the storm drains.
Evelyn slumped against Lucien, trembling.
"That thing," she muttered, "it was hunting me."
"Yes," he responded softly. "Your blood calls to them now."
Her fingers dug into his coat.
"Then why don't you let them take me? You say you failed me once."
Lucien went still.
The rain poured through them both, yet he didn't pull away.
"Because," he answered hoarsely, "I won't fail you again. Even if it costs me everything."
She gazed up at him, scanning his face for deceit.
She didn't discover any.
"Come," he whispered, releasing her grudgingly. "There's somewhere safer."
They proceeded through the city, avoiding prominent streets. As they went, Evelyn observed more problems, reflections flashing out of rhythm, shadows extending too long, whispering curling at the boundaries of her hearing.
"People can't see this, can they?" she asked.
"No," Lucien responded. "Most humans are blind to the Veil. You aren't."
"Why?"
He paused.
"Because you never were meant to be."
They halted in front of a café blazing brightly against the rain. The sign over the entrance read:
MOON & MORTAR
Relief flooded over Evelyn's face.
"Selene's café."
Lucien nodded.
"She knows what you are. Or at least suspects."
"What I am," Evelyn said faintly. "You keep saying that like I'm not human."
Lucien caught her eye.
"You're human," he said. "And something more."
Inside, the café was deserted, but the lights were on, candles flickering around the walls. The fragrance of coffee and cinnamon wrapped about Evelyn like a memory of protection.
"Selene?" she called.
A door behind the counter burst open.
Selene Draven stood there, eyes flashing softly violet, hair tied up, brandishing a dagger carved with runes.
Her eyes jerked to Lucien.
"Oh hell no," Selene hissed. "You did *not* bring a Seraph into my café."
Lucien tilted his head slightly.
"Half-demon," he remarked quietly. "You're more dangerous than I am."
Selene sneered, then raced to Evelyn, gripping her shoulders.
"You okay? You look like you fought a nightmare and lost."
Evelyn laughed softly, tears scorching her eyes.
"I think my apartment tried to eat me."
Selene swore beneath her breath. She turned to Lucien.
"You were supposed to stay away from her."
"I tried," he responded gently.
That stillness, weighty, burdened, conveyed to Evelyn more than words ever could.
Selene led them behind the counter and pushed her hand on a mirror. The glass shimmered, then dissolved into a gateway.
"Underground," Selene said. "Before the city notices what's happening."
They descended into a subterranean cavern beneath the café, its stone walls engraved with luminous patterns, lights humming quietly with enchantment.
Evelyn watched with astonishment.
"You knew about this?"
Selene grimaced.
"Surprise?"
Lucien looked to Evelyn, his face stern.
"What I'm about to tell you will change everything."
She crossed her arms, bracing herself.
"Try me."
He went closer, dropping his voice.
"You are a Veilblood," he said. "A descendant of the ones who built the barrier between worlds. Your blood is a key and a weapon."
Evelyn shook her head.
"No. I'm simply an artist."
Lucien's eyes softened.
"You paint what the Veil shows you. You always have."
"Always?" she whispered.
Selene glanced away.
Lucien continued, voice hoarse with memories.
"In another life, you loved me."
Evelyn's breath caught.
"And I betrayed you."
Silence enveloped the room.
Her chest hurt painfully, like a scar being ripped open.
"I don't remember you," she murmured, though part of her shouted it was a lie.
Lucien nodded.
"I know."
"Then why does it hurt so much?"
His voice cracked.
"Because your soul remembers even when your mind does not."
The lanterns flickered.
A distant earthquake rattled the basement room.
Selene swore.
"The Veil's breathing. That's bad."
Lucien turned swiftly.
"They're coming."
Evelyn's terror hardened into something else: determination.
"Then teach me," she responded. "Teach me how to survive this."
Lucien caught her stare, something fierce and optimistic burning in his eyes.
"I will," he swore.
"Even if the world burns for it."
Above them, the city of Aramore trembled as the Veil hissed her name.
- Writer
