Page 10 of Veinblood
His voice carries artificial urgency as he talks about the approaching storm.
“—tracking what could become the worst blizzard to hit Chicago in twenty-four years. We’re expecting accumulations of fifteen to twenty inches of snow overnight, with windgusts exceeding fifty miles per hour, creating potentially life-threatening conditions. The mayor has already declared an emergency, advising everyone to stay indoors unless absolutely necessary …”
Wind howls past my windows, as though summoned by his words. Snow no longer falls but flies sideways, hiding the city in swirling white. The storm’s timing feels like it’s more than a coincidence, another barrier between me and any answers I need to find. Between me and any possibility of finding my way back to Meridian and Sacha.
The irony isn’t lost on me. For weeks after arriving in Meridian, all I wanted to do was return to Chicago. I begged Sacha to help me find a way home. I dreamed of hot showers and coffee shops and the safety of my apartment. I ached for the world I understood, for the life I’d lost.
Now I’m back, and all I want is to return to Meridian.
When did that world of magic and war and beauty become more home than here? When did Sacha’s iron control and hidden vulnerabilities become more essential to me than the safe, predictable existence I once valued?
The answer is simple. The moment I realized I was strong enough to stand beside him. The moment I stopped being someone who needed protection, and became someone who would fight to protect another. The moment I understood that love isn't about finding someone to complete you, it's about finding someone worth becoming your best self for.
But how do I get back?
And then another thought takes hold.
What if it wasn’t only me who was brought here? What if it somehow brought Sacha to Earth as well?
The idea seems unlikely. He’s from Meridian, after all. I'm the outsider, the one who never quite belonged there despite being born in that world. Surely that counts for something? Logic suggests I’d be the one sent back while he remained in his world.
But logic has little place in a world where prophecies come true and power flows through veins. If our combined energy triggered something unusual when it touched the crystal, if Sereven’s expression in those final moments was shock rather than triumph, then surely anything is possible?
But that means if Sachaishere—on Earth, and in Chicago—then he is lost in a world he doesn’t understand. A world of electricity and cars, and technology that would seem like a form of magic to someone from Meridian. A world where his shadow magic will mark him as something out of a nightmare, where he has no allies, and no knowledge of the most basic things we take for granted.
He is in the same situation I was when I first landed in Meridian. Confused, powerless, dependent on the kindness of strangers in a place where being different could get you killed.
The storm outside intensifies, snow piling against the windows in drifts that reshape themselves every few minutes. Wind finds every tiny gap, setting up a low howl that sounds likevoices crying. The roads below my building turn invisible, cars grinding to a halt on the streets below.
Even if I wanted to search for him tonight, the weather makes it impossible, and I don’t even know where to start. Chicago is a huge city. If Sacha appeared here the way I did on that street corner, he could be anywhere within hundreds of square miles.
I pace my apartment, too restless for sleep, despite exhaustion trying to drag me down. The energy inside me flares with my fluctuating emotions, silver light bleeding through my sleeves.
What if he’s out there? In the snow? In the cold? What if he’s huddled in a doorway, freezing, while I’m warm and safe in my apartment?
The thought makes me sick. I have to know. I need to know if I’m alone here or if Sacha was pulled through as well.
I stop pacing and close my eyes, my heart hammering. The connection between us—the one I felt during that moment when I floated in the space between words—is it still there?
At first there’s nothing. It feels like I’m trying to grasp spider webs, each attempt breaking before I can latch on. My breathing quickens. My hands shake.
Please. Please let him be here. Don’t let me be alone in this.
And then I find it. It’s a faint pulse of energy just beneath my heart. It’s distant, but real.
Sacha is here. Somewhere in this storm-battered city, he exists. He's alive.
The relief nearly drives me to my knees. I sink onto the couch.
He’s resourceful. He’ll find a way to stay safe tonight, and tomorrow, when the storm passes, I’ll figure out how to find him.
Hours pass while I hold onto that connection, using it like a lifeline while the storm rages outside. My power flickers constantly now, responding to the emotions inside me.
I can’t help Sacha from here, I can’t fight with the Veinwardens against the Authority, I can’t use my power to fulfill whatever destiny the prophecy is going to demand.
The television continues its emergency broadcasts, reporters standing in the driving snow to deliver updates that amount to variations of the same message: stay inside, the storm is dangerous, the city is shutting down. I watch without really processing the words, my attention focused inward on that precious thread of connection.
I wrap a blanket around my shoulders and settle deeper into the couch cushions. The apartment feels strange around me. It’s too quiet without the constant background sounds of Meridian. No wind through stone passages. No distant conversations echoing from other chambers. No subtle creaks and shifts of a mountain stronghold adapting to changing weather.
