Helena splashed cold water on her face and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She blinked at her reflection in the dingy mirror above the bathroom sink. She didn’t look nearly as tired as she felt; there was a pinkish glow in her skin, which, in the hazy light filtering through the bathroom’s gauzy curtains, looked as smooth and flawless as if she were on a magazine cover.
She shook her head, her damp hair swinging into her face. She kept thinking about last night sideways. If she considered it straight on, if she let herself dwell on the few moments she had spent wrapped up in Aleksi’s arms before he found her scar—her back pressed into the damp grass, his hot mouth on her throat—then the guilt came coursing up through her.
Helena switched off the water and padded out into the hallway. The trailer was still and quiet, the kind of quiet that made Helena nervous. But there was a note taped to the refrigerator from Corina: she and Dominic had gone out to scout the swamp. They’d be back by nine. And it was only eight thirty.
Helena didn’t know where Aleksi was, if he was still outside where she had left him. She peered out through the front window and saw no sign of the C.O.A., and that was enough for her. She didn’t know if she could look at Aleksi directly right now.
But she did find herself thinking about the kiss, those few moments they had spent rolling around on the black grass of the conduit, as wild and frantic as teenagers.
Up until his fingers found her scar and broke whatever spell she was under.
Helena pressed her fingers against her chest, feeling the faint outline of the scar underneath her shirt. This morning, it just felt like a scar again, rough tissue in a lopsided ring. But last night, underneath Aleksi’s touch, it was a searing reminder of who she was. Of who he was.
Helena went back into her room and dug through the clothes that Corina had laid out for her: clean underwear a size too small, men’s shorts a size too big, a stack of Black Moon and Double Chaos shirts from a supply Corina had been keeping in her closet. Helena pulled on the most well-fitting things she could find and then flopped back down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her thoughts flickered:
Aleksi’s warm mouth on hers.
The swing of his hair across the burned grass.
The throaty, grunting gasp he’d made when she’d pressed her lips to his neck.
Her scar started to itch again.
Helena jumped out of the bed. She was still tired, but she didn’t like slipping into her own thoughts like that. The desire she felt for Aleksi. The guilt she felt for the desire. The general confusion when she tried to comprehend that he wasn’t really Aleksi at all, but the Third King of Hell, Byleth. A demon.
She shuffled into the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee. But she stopped short in the entranceway. Corina’s laptop was sitting on the kitchen table.
Helena slid into a chair and pulled the laptop over to her and flipped it open. To her surprise, it wasn’t protected with a password.
Helena’s fingers hovered over the keys. Then, swiftly, she pulled up her email and began writing a message to Juniper, using the old Lineage encryption.
In Louisiana. Do not know the exact location; somewhere close to New Orleans. DO NOT COME FIND ME. You will have to—
In the front of the house, a door slammed. Footsteps echoed across the living room floor.
“Helena?” Aleksi appeared in the kitchen entranceway, ringed in light.
Panic seized Helena’s chest. Im safe, she wrote in a flurry before hitting Send. Aleksi moved closer, and Helena typed the first web address she could think of to get out of her email—YouTube.
“What are you doing?” Aleksi frowned.
Helena stared down at the YouTube home page, then logged in, her heart pounding. She didn’t want to look up at Aleksi. He was still in last night’s clothes. The shirt she had wrapped up in her fist as they kissed. The black jeans that had stayed on, chaste.
“You’re looking at something pretty intensely.” Aleksi’s eyes glittered. “Contacting the Lineage?”
Helena let out a strangled, nervous laugh. “No!”
“I was teasing. I’m not Dominic. They aren’t my priority right now.” He loped across the room and sat down across from her at the table, his presence vibrating the air around them. Helena’s cheeks flushed. “What are you looking at, though?”
“Nothing,” she said.
She clicked over to look at her stats, trying to stay calm. She’d recently hit five thousand subscribers, which, for an album review channel, wasn’t terrible. The number was holding steady. She stared at the thumbnail of the last video she’d uploaded: a top ten list, favorite ‘90s death metal, with her sitting in front of her record collection showing off the album covers.
Aleksi was staring at her from across the table with his usual intensity—but there was a curiosity in his expression that caught her off guard. “You don’t have to tell me,” he finally said. “But I would—like to know more about you.”
Helena’s heart stuttered. “What?” she blurted, hoping he wouldn’t ask about the scar.
“A member of the Lineage who loves Double Chaos and can do a rare form of Infernal magic?” He arched an eyebrow. “It’s an unusual combination.”
Helena smiled in spite of herself. Aleksi pulled his chair closer, his gaze catching hers.
“I was checking up on my YouTube channel,” she said in a rush.
Aleksi grinned. “Ah, yes. Helena of Trondheim.”
He remembered the name. She had tossed it off back when they thought she was part of Gavin’s cult, but he remembered it.
“Mysteries on top of mysteries,” he added with a flirtatious gleam in his eye.
Helena stiffened. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not.” He seemed genuinely surprised by the suggestion. “What do you put on your channel? Music? Corina told me you play guitar and piano.”
Helena’s embarrassment swelled again. “No, no, I—” I’ve never done that would in fact be a lie. She had at least ten unpublished videos waiting in her account: guitar covers of Rotting Christ and Immortal songs, a version of Emperor’s “Beyond the Great Vast Forest” she played on the piano, and, most absurdly of all, an original song from The Project, her heavy distorted guitar and her throaty, raspy voice wailing lyrics she had written on her phone in the break room at Woods & Yarrow.
“It’s a review channel,” she said. “I review albums.”
Aleksi’s grin broadened. “You ever review Black Moon?”
She burst out in nervous laughter. “No, sorry. I’d never heard of you until Juniper brought me your album.”
“Juniper?”
Her breath caught. “My sister. The one still with the Lineage.”
“Right.” Aleksi nodded. “Well, maybe we can make an appearance once this is all over.”
Helena realized she had expected him to mock her, and the genuineness of his actual response left her feeling warm in her chest.
“You know,” she said softly, “I have a reputation for being a tough critic. You might not like my review.”
Aleksi looked at her appraisingly. “Is that so?”
“That’s what I’ve heard.”
“Well.” Aleksi leaned back. “I’m curious now. What’d you think?”
Helena blushed. “Well, to be honest—”
Aleksi raised an eyebrow.
“It was pretty standard symphonic black metal,” she said.
Aleksi stared at her for a moment, and she was sure he was about to lash out at her. Instead, he laughed. “Hey, you lay the blame for that on Dominic,” he said. “He’s the one writing our songs.”
“Even those Infernal notes?”
“No, of course not.”
“Yeah, I know.” Helena grinned in spite of herself.
This time, it was Aleksi’s turn to blush—and he actually blushed, his cheeks turning bright pink. “I was tasked with creating the magic,” he mumbled. “Dominic hid it in the music.”
“Why black metal?” Helena asked. “Why not something more—” She waved her hand around. “Accessible?”
“Accessible?”
“You know.” Helena was fumbling for the words, not quite wanting to admit to herself she was curious for reasons that had nothing to do with the Lineage. “Something that could be played on the radio. So that it could be more widespread.”
“Oh.” Aleksi shook his head. “We didn’t need that kind of power. With Dom’s connections, we had all the audience we needed to strengthen the spells.”
“Until Juniper broke them.” Helena sighed.
“Juniper broke the wards around the show,” Aleksi said. “Not the magic of the albums. The magic that was supposed to be keeping Gavin locked away.” His expression darkened. “I don’t know how he got out. Corina can’t see anything, either.”
Helena felt a strange softening inside her chest. She actually—believed him. That all he was trying to do was stop Gavin. Anyone who wanted to brainwash the world with Infernal magic would have put it in a pop song.
And then, because of the surprise of this revelation and because she wanted to, she reached over and hooked her fingers around his. He looked down at their hands, barely touching in the space on the couch between them.
He curled his hand, wound his fingers up in hers. And just like that, they were holding hands, Helena’s body twisted at an uncomfortable angle.
“I guess this is what Stockholm syndrome feels like,” she said.
Aleksi frowned. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “It was a dumb joke. I know—”
“No, I mean, what’s Stockholm syndrome?”
The air rippled between them. Of course. A demon living in the earthly realm for five years wouldn’t know what Stockholm syndrome was.
And he was a demon. It was almost too easy to forget.
Helena took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure if she should pull her hand away or not; she didn’t want to. “It’s when you fall for your kidnapper,” she said quietly.
His expression didn’t change. “I see.”
“It was a joke. I know you didn’t really kidnap—”
“You’ve fallen for me.” He said it like he was trying the words out, like he wanted to see how they fit in his mouth.
Helena blushed. This time, she did pull her hand away—but Aleksi caught it and looked at her with an intensity that made something inside her quiver.
And not with fear.
“Stockholm syndrome isn’t real,” she said in rush. “It’s just a myth. I was making a joke—”
He brushed his hand over her hair. She could feel herself drowning in his gaze, dark and studious. He was quiet long enough that she found herself frantically trying to decide what to say next, what she could say to walk back this whole humiliating confession.
But then Aleksi spoke.
“Last night,” he said, measured. He pulled his hand away from her hair. “Your scar—”
Helena seized up. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Aleksi looked at her for a long moment. Then, to her relief, he nodded. “That’s fair.”
“Thank you.”
They sat in a tight, uncomfortable silence for a few moments longer. Then Aleksi spoke again. “What we did—the kissing? I’ve never done that sort of thing—here.”
Helena thought of the girls at the show. He’s so hot. “Really?”
“I haven’t been interested,” he said. “I’ve been so focused on finding a way home that doesn’t involve a massacre.”
“Sorry I broke your streak,” Helena said.
He smiled at that. Tilted his head. “Like I told you last night. Your magic reminds me of home.” He paused. “And being here, in this dimension—it’s fucking lonely.”
Empathy panged through Helena.
“Like that kidnapper thing. What’d you call it—Gothenburg syndrome?”
“Stockholm syndrome?” Helena laughed. “Gothenburg? Where’d you get that from?”
Aleksi’s cheeks turned pink again. It was disconcerting, seeing him blush. And, Helena had to admit, kind of endearing. “Look, I’m doing the best I can,” he muttered. “But I spend all my time with Dominic. My knowledge of this realm has been pretty music-centric. But Stockholm is in Sweden, yes?”
Helena nodded. And then, her heart pounding, she leaned over and brushed her lips against his cheek. He turned his head, caught her kiss, and pulled her into him.
Her scar throbbed slightly, then faded back into flesh.
“I exist in a weird state,” he said, pulling away. His breath warmed her skin. “This glamour makes me feel half human. It goes deep. So I just—”
He kissed her again, this time pulling her down on the couch, their legs tangling together. Helena let herself fall over to the sensation of his body against hers, firm and strong. She knew she should stop, that he was pulling her into some spell again—but it didn’t feel like a spell. It felt nice. She nestled underneath him, wound her arms around his waist. He nuzzled up against her neck, breathing hard into her ear.
“The way you do magic,” he whispered. “It just feels the way magic’s supposed to feel. And you—” He pulled away, gazed down at her. Helena held her breath.
She shouldn’t be doing this. He was a demon, a king of Hell. And even if she wasn’t Lineage anymore, she was still human.
“You’re the first thing that has made me feel less lonely in five years,” he finally finished.
It was the most romantic thing any man had ever said to her.
And then Aleksi was kissing her again, and she melted into it, winding her hands up in his hair.
If she was the first thing to make him feel normal, then he was the first thing to make her feel extraordinary.
“What in the fuck is going on in here?”
Dominic’s voice sliced through the room. Helena yelped and pushed Aleksi back, although he took his time, falling into the cushions of the couch with a leonine grace. Dominic and Corina stood in the entryway to the living room, Dominic with his arms crossed over his chest, Corina with a hand pressed over her mouth, trying not to laugh.
“Dominic!” Aleksi said. “Glad to see you’re feeling better. And, Corina, how’re you recovering?”
“Oh, I’ll be fine.” Corina was still trying to smother a laugh.
Dominic glowered. “We need to talk. All of us.” He fixed a dark glare on Helena, and she did her best to return it, feeling ridiculous. “Although I’d prefer if the Lineage wasn’t here.”
“She’s part of this.” Corina smacked Dominic on the shoulder. “I’m going to fix us all some coffee. Come on.” She grabbed Dominic by the hand and pulled him into the kitchen. Helena could hear the low murmur of their voices over the clatter of the coffeepot.
“Don’t let him get to you,” Aleksi said. “He’s got it out for the Lineage.”
“Most blood mages do.”
Aleksi shrugged. “The Lineage isn’t my concern right now. But Dominic—” He paused, studying Helena with those dark, intense eyes.
“Dominic what?” Helena asked, her skin prickling with fear.
“They captured him about ten years back,” Aleksi said. “Tortured him. I don’t know the details. But that’s why he’s so—bitter.”
Anger flashed through Helena, and she stood, smoothed down her clothes. “The Lineage doesn’t torture people!” she hissed, her eyes darting over to the entryway to the kitchen. But even as the words left her mouth, she wasn’t certain she believed them. She’d half overheard a handful of whispered conversations in her childhood, dark and urgent. Her parents murmuring beside the fire, her mother’s voice fierce as she said, They know how to get answers out of them.
“I’m only telling you what Dominic told me.” Aleksi pressed his hand into her shoulder blades, and despite herself Helena leaned into his touch. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into him. “But you deserve to know why he’s so angry with you. Why he doesn’t trust you.” He kissed the top of her head.
Helena felt a quiver of guilt. Maybe he’s right not trust me. She shoved the thought aside.
“Don’t worry,” Aleksi said. “Corina and I aren’t going to let him take out his issues on you. We have more important things to worry about now.”
“Gavin,” Helena said weakly.
Aleksi hesitated. “Getting through Gavin’s blockade,” he finally said. “You aren’t responsible for helping us retrap Gavin. We’ll get you back to your life.” He paused, then added weakly, “Got to review us on your channel, right?”
Helena frowned, her head still tucked into the nook of Aleksi’s arm. From where they stood, she could see Corina fussing in the kitchen, calling out to Dominic over her shoulder in a voice too low for Helena to hear.
And what was her life? Her mindless job at Woods & Yarrow? The channel she kept filling with album reviews because she was too terrified to share her own music?
The parents who refused to speak to her? Who might still not speak to her, even if she brought them word of Gavin?
Of Aleksi himself?
“Come on.” Aleksi guided her toward the kitchen. Dominic was sitting at the table, slouched in his chair. He glared up at Helena as she pulled out her seat, and she wondered what the Lineage had done to him exactly.
“You like cream, right?” Corina walked over to the table with a trio of coffee mugs.
“Yes,” Helena said stiffly, trying not to look at Dominic.
The coffeemaker gurgled.
“Although it did look like you were pretty awake already,” Corina said, digging around in the refrigerator.
“Leave her alone,” Aleksi said.
“What?” Corina laughed. She brought the coffeepot over to the table, white steam curling off the top. She set it down along with a carton of cream and a tub of sugar. “I should congratulate you, girl. This one’s quite a catch. I hear you know about him being royalty.” She slapped Aleksi on the back, and suddenly he was blushing again.
Helena grabbed the coffeepot and began pouring a cup so she wouldn’t have to look at anyone. She kept whipping back and forth between the warmth she felt for Aleksi and the weird shuddery feeling she got when she thought about Byleth.
“This really isn’t important right now.” Dominic’s scowl deepened.
“Oh, calm down.” Corina swatted at him. “There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun before we have to deal with the Children of Adrasteia.” She gestured toward the window.
Helena felt a singe on her fingers and realized the coffee had overflowed her cup and splattered across the floor. “Shit!” She set the coffee mug and pot down and grabbed a handful of towels. “Why’d they have to gather like that?” she muttered. “There was nothing easy about just fighting Gavin and Aniela.”
“Sure there was.” Dominic smirked. “You got away.”
Helena stood up from cleaning the floor, her face hot.
“Stop scaring her,” Corina said. “She’s not even with the Lineage anymore.” She looked at Helena. “You’re safe here, on my property. Dom and I doubled up the wards this morning, after we snuck a peek out there in the swamp. The problem—”
“Is supplies,” Dominic said. “We’re going to need to do another binding spell. Personally, I’d prefer to not have one of the Lineage here while I do it.”
Helena opened her mouth to protest but Dominic interrupted. “Yeah, I don’t want to hear about how you can’t do magic. You brought Corina back.”
“Yeah, blood magic in an Infernal conduit is definitely something all Lineage girls learn to do,” she snapped.
“Exactly,” Dominic said. “I don’t want you taking our methods back to your family.”
Helena stiffened and tried not to imagine the three of them locked down in some Lineage prison spell, cruel magics curling around them.
“Stop it,” Corina said. “Dom, you know damn well Helena is not the concern here.”
“I agree,” Aleksi said.
Dominic sighed, and Helena grabbed her coffee and didn’t look at anyone.
“The binding spell is the concern,” Aleksi said. “There are certain supplies we’ll need, preparations we have to make. And we’ll need to get back in here—I’m going to need my conduit.”
“So we have to get past the entire cult,” Helena said flatly. “And then come back in.”
There was a long pause, and then Aleksi said, “We’re open to ideas.”
“We shouldn’t be discussing this in front of her,” Dominic growled.
“We don’t have a choice,” Aleksi said. “And I would be happy to hear a Lineage spell if it would help.”
Everyone looked expectantly at Helena.
Helena shook her head. “I couldn’t do a Lineage spell on that level.”
“I bet you could,” Aleksi said.
Helena glanced over at him, unsure how to respond to that.
“It also wouldn’t just have to be you,” Corina said gently. “All of us could pitch in.”
“I’m not doing fucking Lineage magic,” Dominic snapped.
“Why won’t blood magic work?” Helena asked. She looked at Aleksi. “Or Infernal magic?”
“I’m hoping for a blend of all three, plus Corina’s conjuration,” Aleksi said. “The C.O.A. will be expecting blood magic and Infernal magic, so if we can throw in something else, something they’re not expecting—”
“That’s a good idea,” Corina said. “It’s going to be hard for us to overtake them in pure strength. They vastly outnumber us.”
“How many are out there?” Helena watched as Corina’s and Dominic’s expressions darkened.
“Three hundred and forty-seven,” Dominic finally said. “The whole group. They were always trying to get into our shows. That’s why we warded them.”
Aleksi sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck, they got here fast.”
“Gavin probably had them heading this way already,” Corina said. “I guess it was a good thing me and Dom needed to rest. If we’d gone out last night, we could have come back to higher numbers than we left.”
Helena slumped back against the chair, stared down at her coffee. A wedge of sunlight poured in through the window, somehow making it through the thick tangle of trees, and danced across her hand.
“Almost the entire cult,” Dominic continued. “I imagine the rest of them are still making their way here. By this evening I bet the number will be closer to four hundred.”
Helena closed her eyes. Her blood buzzed inside her ears. “Jesus,” she whispered.
“You can see why we need to think outside the box,” Corina said.
Helena nodded numbly. The sunlight angled off her hand, swiping across the table. She felt an itch around her heart: the scar. A demon’s claw.
She looked up at Aleksi. He was watching her, his expression sorrowful. She thought about the magic that had poured through her as they brought back Corina. It had been strong enough to make a demon king feel as if he was home. Strong enough to make him want a human woman—a daughter of the Lineage.
She wondered if it was strong enough to fight an entire cult.