Belial held my chin and lifted my upper lids to examine my eyes. Patiently, I sat on a stool, fighting the urge to squirm as her dark brown eyes scrutinized me.

“Both lookin’ good,” she noted, turning to the cupboard full of jars with sorts of powders, roots and crawly gnarly things I wouldn’t even want to identify. “You’re lucky, girl. It ain’t common for tainted souls to stop turnin’ once the process starts. I’m mighty surprise ya even managed to suppress it for nearly a year.”

I wordlessly dropped my gaze. From the corner of my eye, I could tell Vincent was looking at me. Byron Flynn and Luci stood behind him attentively.

“It’s possible then,” he said, hoisting himself from the padded seat only to fall back again, wincing in pain. “She can fight it.”

With a shrug, Belial resumed picking up different leaves. “Can’t say for sure. Maybe its Halja’s Bind preventin’ her from turnin’. It neutralizes the supernatural. Or it could be just her.”

She headed for the stove and warmed her hands on the glowing coals before running the leaves one by one in the flames. Reaching into the notch in between her enormous bosom, she pulled out a small vial tied around her long neck. Removing the stopper, she placed a tiny drop of the clear liquid on her thumb and closed her fingers over her mouth, murmuring some incantation on it.

With the scalded leaves in her free hand, she came to me and began to reach for my left eye.

Before her oiled fingers could touch me, Vincent had already thrown himself in front of me. He caught Belial’s hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he growled, the veins on his forehead bulging.

It was the first time I saw Belial actually laugh, a crisp, whirring sound that seemed to be coming from under the ground. “Take it easy, kid. I ain’t gonna turn her into stone. Although, I can do that if I really wanted to.” She showed us her right palm. It emitted a gray-blue glow from the oil. “Cerberus’ tears. Wonderin’ why no one can’t get in or out this island?”

“It’s because of that stuff?”

Belial nodded. “It’s that old dog’s job ta keep the Living from getting’ in and the damned—us— from getting’ out by scatterin’ his body fluids around the island. Tried gettin’ away once in the ol’ days. Mutt was on my tail in a matter of seconds. Chased me and that slowpoke Grigori back into the village screamin’ like loons. Ate a few of my cows and a couple a boys. Never tried since.”

Belial shoved Vincent out of the way. Losing balance, he lurched askew. Luci was already beside him, catching him by his elbows before I could decide whether to help him or not.

“And how’s that supposed to help me?” I muttered from the side of my mouth, fidgeting in my seat.

Belial let out a tired long sigh. “You not listenin’, girl? It’s goin’ ta keep the damned from goin’ out. Goin’ ta keep your bad soul from takin’ over your body again.”

As the woman’s oily fingers came closer to my face, I could only shrink in my seat and hold my breath. The liquid felt thick and slimy on my left brow. She blew on the scalded leaves and began fanning them all over me as she sang and swayed in an awkward motion.

My hands itched to wipe the revolting stuff away, but Belial slapped my hands.

“You lucky it’s the fluid comin’ from the eyes and not from other orifices,” she muttered rolling her eyes with a yawn.

“Gross…” I shivered.

Vincent raised a brow, balancing between Luci and his crutch. “And she won’t turn anymore?”

Belial shrug-nodded. “Possibly.”

“Possibly?” How very reassuring. I could feel myself hyperventilating.

Weakly, Vincent sagged on his seat, running a hand through his hair. I noticed how they curled now that they almost reached his shoulders in layers of different lengths. As if in search for answers, his troubled eyes roved the room, inadvertently resting on me for a moment.

Instantly, I fixed my gaze on the granite floor. I wanted to laugh and cry aloud at the same time.

Is this how a criminal in a death row feels?

I didn’t know which was worse. Knowing that I was doomed, or waiting for it to happen?

Vincent stared at his palms. “Is… there any way to heal her? To keep her from turning?”

To me, it sounded like a plea. My master was pleading for my life and I couldn’t accept any of it or else, I was scared my chest would explode. I swallowed the lump in my throat, my hands clutching the cloth gathered on my lap.

Leisurely, Belial took her time seating herself comfortably on a rocking chair while taking a swig from her coffee cup. The rum worked fast, coloring her brown cheeks. But the answer was simple; one we already knew.

“Resurrect her.” Belial’s monotone seemed bleak.

No one spoke, but through the veil of my lashes, I could see Vincent was actually considering it. Chewing on the inside of my lip, I got up.

“I almost forgot,” I said to Belial, struggling for a cheerful tone. “I heard you assigned farm errands to Byron Flynn. I want to help.”

“Actually,” interjected the red-head. “I am to go fishin’ with Master Levi and his men.”

“Sounds great.” I smiled despite my knees threatening to give in, avoiding Vincent’s questioning gaze. “Let’s go, Byron Flynn.”

Vincent tried to get up, leaning on Luci as always. He had all the help he could ever want. He didn’t need me anymore.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he muttered through his teeth. “You can’t go. You still have duties here.”

Duties. Synonymous to obligatory episodes of torment and being bossed around.

I glared at his casted leg, keeping my eyes downcast, my head slightly bowed. “Do you have further orders, Master?”

The question rendered him temporarily speechless, he almost blushed. “N-no. B-but… I’ll think of something later.”

“Understood,” I nodded dutifully. “Then, we’ll just… go ahead.”

Quickly, I spun on my heels. But before I could reach Byron Flynn, Vincent grabbed my hand and yanked me. I heard the sockets between my shoulders and arms snap. It didn’t hurt much, though if it did, I didn’t have the right to grumble about it.

There were a thousand questions in his pale eyes when he forced me to face him. Quickly, I dropped my gaze like a good familiar would. Yet, with every customary etiquette I attempted to carry out, I grew more and more aware of my role, of my place in his life.

It was painful to keep a straight face. “Was there something you need, Master?”

“What is wrong with you, Aramis?” His fingers tightened over my shoulders to the point of pain.

Bowing my head lower, blankly, I said, “Forgive me.”

Taking in a shaky breath, he leaned over to me to meet my eyes. “Why’re you being like this?” he whispered. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Pretentiously, Belial groaned long as if world-weary. “Ugh, for Eldessakes. You two have been free-loadin’ here for two weeks. At least, let the girl work for her lodgin’. You, mister, on the other hand will have to work double once your leg gets un-busted.”

Resignedly, Vincent let me go.

“I’ll do his work,” I offered, staring at his shoes, Luci’s slippers.

With her most jovial smile, Luci joined her hands. “That would be delightful! That way, Vincent shall have ample time to recover.”

If she wasn’t busy hugging Vincent’s waist, I was almost sure she would hug me too.

Belial raised a brow, crossing her arms. “Really? This is bona fide manual labor we’re talkin’ about. I don’t think that flimsy build can take it.”

It was Vincent who answered for me.

“Let her,” said he, his face impossible to read.

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