with my bare hands is one of the possible scenarios in my mind.
“I don’t think there are enough witches in the world to open a portal to the Nightingale realm,” I reply. “And I’m pretty sure the king already tried.”
Lucca grunts in response. I could have been less blunt in my response, but the fact I can even have a normal conversation when all my senses are fried is a miracle. I resume walking, stopping only when I reach the edge of the market. I quickly scan the booths that I can see. It’s been a while since I was here. Most of the vendors usually stay in the same spot, but sometimes, things change. The problem is, I don’t know who sells siren’s tears. The stock I had in my apartment I snatched from my mother.
“Do you know where to go?” Saxon asks in a tight voice. I think he’s also hanging on to his sanity by a thread.
“No.” I turn around to glance at the others. “We need to split up. I don’t know how much longer Saxon and I will be able to stay away from each other.”
Rikkon frowns. “If it’s getting that bad, why don’t you just … well, you know.” Redness creeps up to his cheeks. He reminds me of Vivienne, getting flustered by vampires’ lack of modesty when she started at Bloodstone.
I glance at Saxon, finding him scowling. Yeah, he’s still angry about my deal with Elena Montenegro. Nothing either of us can do about that now.
“It would probably make everything worse,” I answer. “The best we can do is find the missing ingredient for the potion until we can break the bond.”
“Okay. How about Lucca, Rikkon, and I take the east side, and you and Saxon the west?” Vivienne suggests.
“Actually, I think Rikkon should come with us,” Saxon says, surprising the hell out of me.
“Really? You want me to come?” He stares at him with round eyes.
“Yeah, I might need you to serve as a buffer again.”
“You almost killed him before when he tried,” Vivienne interjects.
“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll try my best not to kill your brother.”
I pull a small vial from my purse and offer it to Rikkon. “Here. This is vampire’s bane, just in case.”
Both Lucca and Saxon shoot daggers at me with their eyes. “Why do you carry vampire’s bane in your purse?” Saxon asks.
I return the frown. “Do you think I’d agree to live among a bunch of bloodsuckers without protection?”
“Don’t worry, bro. I’ll only use it as a last resort,” Rikkon pipes up.
Shaking his head, Saxon turns toward the market. “Let’s find some fucking siren’s tears already.”
21
Saxon
I didn’t insist on coming on this trip only because the bond is making it impossible for me to be apart from Aurora. I had ulterior motives. I wanted to find information about this blood vow deal Aurora made, but hell, finding the siren’s tears is my main focus right now. It’s hard to describe what’s going on in my body. I alternate between feeling hot and cold in the span of seconds, my skin feels raw and prickly, my throat is parched. I’m walking with a semi, and the friction of my erection against my jeans, instead of offering comfort, is hurting more. Fuck, if I don’t find some kind of relief, I’ll go insane.
Rikkon offered to come with us, but he’s not walking between us. He learned his lesson the hard way; you can’t come between bonded mates. He’s walking next to me instead. When Aurora stops by a vendor to ask about siren’s tears, I take the opportunity to ask the male a few questions.
“Anything coming back to you yet?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Maybe I didn’t come here after all. If the market was hidden to the human population, how would I find it?”
“Come on, dude. It wouldn’t be hard to hire a rogue mage to bring you here.”
“I suppose.” He sticks his hands in his pockets. “Why do you want me to recover my memories so much anyway? What’s in it for you?”
Aurora returns, not pleased, and I don’t have the chance to answer him.
“They didn’t have it. But the lady said the guy at the end of this row might.”
“What if we can’t find siren’s tears? What’s going to happen to you two?” Rikkon asks.
Aurora twists her face into a scowl. “Let’s not think about that.”
We walk for another minute when Rikkon stops suddenly, his attention riveted on something. I follow his line of vision,