by Holly Evans
I squeezed his arm. “Talk to me, you're worrying me."
Finally he raised his eyes. They glistened with the threat of tears.
His eyebrows knitted as the words formed in his mouth. “Kadrix kissed someone else."
Lysander's lips pulled back in a deep snarl. I ran my fingers over his hand to ease him without even realising. Images of skinning the elf flitted into my mind; no one hurt my twin. I squeezed my eyes shut and sought calm.
"Have you talked to him about it?"
He sighed heavily. “He just... shrugged it off. I don't know how I feel, I..."
I pulled him into a tight hug. "I'll have a word."
I waited for him to tell me not to interfere, that it was his relationship. He said nothing.
"Lysander, stay here. I have enough anger without yours fueling it."
He ground his teeth together but gave a small nod and stepped away from the door. I ran my fingers over the hilt of my blades. I still carried those Kadrix had made me from the feathers of celestials. The familiar tingle from them eased my mind and calmed me a little. It was a delicate situation. I was shit at dealing with delicate situations.
The elf had removed his goggles and was leant against a workbench when I walked back into the workshop. His pretty mouth was fixed in a hard line, his usually bright green eyes dulled.
"It seems that I upset your brother," he said.
I approached him slowly, watching for any sign of an attack. "He said you kissed someone else..."
"I didn't realise that was... hurtful," he said quietly.
I stopped and crossed my arms. "You didn't realise that showing someone other than your partner intimate affection, was hurtful...?"
"Evelyn, you may not have noticed, but I am an elf. We do not live by your... rules. It was not my intent to hurt Quin."
"And what are your rules?" I fought to keep the edge from my voice.
"We enjoy each other, there are no lines. We do not have the borders and boundaries that you do." He sighed softly. "I regret hurting Quin. He is… rather special."
"Talk to him,” I said simply.
With that I summoned Lysander and looked pointedly between Quin and Kadrix before I left with my hound. My own words echoed in my mind; I needed to talk to Lysander, but I couldn't face it.
5
The hedgewitch in question was in Florenc, a pretty area in the centre of the city. It bustled a little much for my tastes, but it quickly dissolved into parks, churches, and wonderful burger bars. We slowly made our way along the road, with traffic buzzing past us and birds singing in the trees on the other. It was pleasant to enjoy the odd peace it brought, even if only for a minute.
The anger over Kadrix's actions was beginning to dissipate when Lysander asked, "What exactly is a hedgewitch?"
He looked away, his cheeks flushing slightly red. I often forgot that he wasn't of our world, and thus didn't know the ins and outs.
"A hedgewitch is a solitary witch that has either walked away from the witch goddess, the crone, or simply doesn't have enough talent to get into a coven. They don't have the same magical talents and abilities as coven witches, due to that lack of connection with the goddess. They're closer to alchemists. They're not respected among the witches, so they tend to have information on just about everything, as the witches don’t worry about hiding anything from them."
"Are they trustworthy?" he asked.
I gave a small shrug. "As much as anything else."
Trust wasn't really in my nature; I trusted the word of a hedgewitch over a redcap, but I wasn't going to trust either with my life. Modern glass buildings butted up against old stone with pastel colours and plaster adornments; the city was changing, evolving. Things came and went in barely the blink of an eye. Such was the nature of Prague. Lysander's hand brushed over mine, drawing me from my thoughts. I refused to acknowledge the touch.
"What did Kadrix say?" he said softly.
I shrugged once more; it was between Quin and Kadrix. I was ready to skin the elf, but I needed Quin's say so first.
"He said elves don't live by the rules we do."
Lysander nodded and made a thoughtful noise. “You live very differently to what I'm used to, too."
My insides squirmed. I knew what he was doing. Fortunately, the small purple door to the hedgewitch's shop was right next to us. Saved by the witch; not something I'd expected to think to myself.
A quiet grumble came from Lysander. I ignored him. He could be as pissed at my avoidance as he liked; I wasn't having that discussion, and that was it. We walked into the dark, cramped shop, each space covered in varying dry herbs, tumble-stones, and statuettes. Just once, I wanted one of the magical types to work with a clean, bright, minimalist design. Just once.
A small woman in a flowing deep-red skirt with an expanse of black curls and clinking bracelets bustled towards us. She was the epitome of the stereotype; I had to assume it worked.
She grinned at us and ushered us towards the back of the shop. “Come, come, I was expecting you."
"We did arrange the meeting this morning."
I couldn't help myself, I had no patience for the new-age stuff.
She laughed to herself. "I apologise, I'm used to dealing with... other types of people. It's all a show."
We followed her through the purple velveteen curtain and perched on an old cracked leather sofa once she'd collapsed into a faded-green armchair that she seemed to vanish down into.
"You're here to gather information about a powerful witch."
I let her carry on, she'd been told all of this before we arrived. Her gaze wandered up and down Lysander. Her teeth tugged on her bottom lip.
"He's yours?"
"Yes."
I felt Lysander's amusement. I should have used a softer tone. She frowned, but looked back at me.
"I've heard rumours of a new witch; she came into the city about three months ago, I believe. People were scared, things started happening, the entire coven system got up-ended."
I frowned. “The coven system?"
She waved her hand and gave a little eye roll. "Oh yes, they're so hierarchical. Every coven fits neatly into its slot within the city. They have a territory, a social rank: It's all very complicated and egotistical."
Lysander gave me a questioning look. I waited for her to continue. She was happy to talk, and would likely give me what I wanted.
"As I was saying, a new witch came into the city, she caused quite a stir. There were feathers ruffled, a few deaths, and rumours of dark things happening."
"Just what we need, more rumours," Lysander muttered.
The witch pursed her lips. "I am a hedgewitch, young hound. I am excluded from their goings-on, deemed unworthy of their magic and rituals, but let me tell you this: I know more than they realise."
"Then why don't you share that with us?" he said with a sickeningly sweet smile.
She huffed and rearranged herself in the armchair before playing with her hair for a long minute.
"She is a scary creature, a woman of ambition. Covens fled the city, others bowed before her. Rumblings from the infernal realm started soon after, but you know that bit, don't you?"
She stared at him pointedly.
I leaned forwards a little and smiled. "Do you have anything more for us? Some way we could track her down, perhaps?"
Her hands fidgeted in her lap, wrapping around each other over and over, her eyes flitted across the worn wooden floor.
"No... you don't want that. I don't know where she is and I don't want to."
Her voice trembled.
I leaned forward a little more, and considered offering my hand. She shook her head.
"No, you can't protect me, not from her. I'm sorry. I can't give you what you want."
I smiled and stood. "Thank you anyway."
Lysander stood, his expression dark. We made our way back through the shop, careful not to knock the herbs.
Once we were back out on the street and
had taken a few steps away, Lysander said, "Well that was a waste of time."
"It wasn't unexpected, though; now, if those celestials would help us, then we'd make some actual progress and return to our lives,” I said.
6
I was in no mood to deal with Kadrix for fear of upsetting Quin by interfering, and I didn't have the details of any other hedgewitches that might be willing to speak to us. The frustration grew within me as we sat on a bench gazing at a particularly ornate church. The pigeons wandered down the tarmac path, lazily looking for crumbs or better. Crocuses grew in the narrow flowerbeds, and the trees were bursting with green. Lysander refused to settle, he kept twitching his feet and shifting position.
Finally, he broke and said, "Evelyn, we need to talk."
I ignored him. Another few minutes of his fidgeting were enough for me to be the one to break.
"Fine," I said without looking at him.
"I can feel your emotions... Why do you bury them?"
I curled my lip. The bond meant that I couldn't lie, and I was no mood to be honest about the state of my feelings towards the hound, a beast. Like it or not, I was increasingly protective over him and my desire to explore his tightly toned muscles and trail my fingers over the pale white scars left by his previous master was growing. He took my hand, a bold move that I didn't appreciate. I looked at him with a stern expression; he ignored it and kept my hand in his. His elegant fingers entwined with mine, his callouses gently pressed against my own. It was a snug and comfortable fit. I wanted him to be nothing more than a pet, a tool, but looking into his midnight blue eyes, I knew I couldn't do it.
"I bury them because I can't deal with them,” I said, looking away.
It felt rough in my mouth, but I had no choice but to admit it.
"Why?" he said softly.
Pain bloomed in my chest. His pain.
I frowned and pulled my hand from his. "Because I'm not ready, because I don't know how."
I hadn't meant to say that. In my head, I'd told him that we just weren't right, that it'd be nothing more than a fling. I cursed the bond and its damned way of making me speak the truth. A soft voice cut through my increasingly dark thoughts.
"It's nice to see you away from the alchemist's workshop, Evelyn."
My head snapped up; I recognised the voice. Azfin, the Sidhe. I narrowed my eyes at him, my hands reaching for my blades. The Sidhe had been helpful during the hellmouth incident, but I remained cautious. His delicate little mouth lifted at the corners before he pursed his lips, his eyes dancing while his hands remained tucked in his pockets.
Lysander growled, "What brings you here?"
Azfin refused to acknowledge Lysander. "There have been... shivers, movements."
I raised an eyebrow. "That sounds rather painful, have you visited a doctor or healer?"
His mouth split into a dark smile. "Not quite those forms, although I'm sure I could make you shiver."
His tongue flicked over his lips flashing his sharpened teeth. Lysander growled and edged a little closer to me. I kept my gaze firmly fixed on the Sidhe.
Azfin stepped closer to us, his slender frame managing to tower over me. I leaned back and smiled sweetly, I wasn't going to be intimidated by one Sidhe. He leaned over me, his hands resting on the back of the bench on either side of me, his breath warm on my neck.
"I meant the infernal realm. It has been shivering, twitching."
My breath caught for a moment; that wasn't supposed to be possible, not so soon. The bloodshed and chaos flashed in my mind. The death and pain were so recent. The city couldn't go through that again.
"Are you sure?"
I couldn't think of anything else to say; my mind was going blank.
"Unfortunately, yes. There is no doubt."
I swallowed down my fear and tried to think what I was supposed to do; I didn't want to go running to Elise, particularly with the celestials breathing down her neck. Azfin stood tall again.
"This was supposed to have been wrapped up."
His hands returned to his pockets. I opened my arms wide and glared at him.
"It was, what exactly are we supposed to do about it?"
His eyes darkened and flicked to Lysander. "Perhaps if you returned your toy..."
"No," I snapped.
The level of emotion in my reaction surprised me; I knew that I'd become attached, but still. Azfin laughed, a soft tinkling sound that still managed to hint at the predator he was.
He leaned back over me. "Have you claimed him yet? I've heard rather good things."
I didn't appreciate his tone, the taunting. Lysander bared his teeth and snarled at the Sidhe; I was tempted to swat him on the nose. Azfin did it for me. Only a fae could be so bold as to swat a hellhound on the nose in broad daylight.
Lysander lurched forward, his hands reaching to break the Sidhe's neck. I pushed Azfin back and pushed down on Lysander's shoulder forcing him back down onto the bench.
"Enough," I growled.
Azfin laughed. Lysander sulked.
"How do you know about this problem?"
A young woman in a brown flowery dress gave me an odd look, I smirked at her. Talking about such topics in public was never a good idea. English wasn't the native language of the city, but far too many people spoke it.
"I am... what I am. We have certain skills and abilities." He smirked at me, standing over me once more. "You look as though you need some of those skills, Evelyn, you're so... tense."
He wasn't wrong, but I wasn't going to admit something like that to him.
"Keep things on topic, Az."
His expression shifted in the blink of an eye, his hands tightened and his eyes narrowed.
"I am not called ‘Az’."
I smiled sweetly. “Shame, it suits you."
His mouth spread into a grin once more. "You should let me have some fun with that hound of yours, we could come to some sort of beneficial arrangement. I have many things you'd enjoy."
"I am here," Lysander snarled.
"So you are," Azfin said breezily.
"Are we done?" I said, crossing my arms.
The Sidhe was doing nothing more than irritate Lysander. My mood was dark enough without the bullshit. He gave a small shrug and wandered off as though he didn't have a care in the world.
Lysander leaned closer to me. "I do not like that creature."
I laughed despite myself. "I'd rather noticed."
He huffed, and I stood. What choice did I have but to speak to Elise? I consoled myself by thinking that the celestials may be of some use; they could have some useful information. I hated leaning on other people, having nothing more than a pair of blades to offer. Quin had the connections and increasingly the alchemical talents, Elise had her lady and the connections that came with it. I was lost, and I'd brought it on myself. It wasn't the first time that I'd regretted my self-made path in life. I'd wanted to protect Quin, to give him the best life possible. People had seemed like too much of a risk, more so after I'd caught Christian, the supposed love of my life, in bed with a nymph.
Quin had such a way with people, an ease about him that I lacked. I couldn't help but be envious of that.
"There's time yet," Lysander said softly.
I frowned before I hissed, "Did you read my fucking mind?"
He gave me a broad smile. “I didn't need to."
Once we were in the park on our approach to Elise's church, Lysander pulled me off the path and slumped down on a large boulder. I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to explain himself.
"I heard what the Sidhe said... what if it's my old master? I can't go back to that life, Evelyn. I can't be under him again. Do you know what he'd do to me?"
His worry slithered along the back of my mind; it filled my throat, choking the air from my lungs. I pushed aside my fears of his being subjected to that and stroked his hair. My fingers slipped through his thick black hair and down his strong neck again and again, until he took a breath and relaxed s
ome. I hooked my finger under his chin and gently pulled his face up to look at me.
"I told you, you're mine now."
He brow furrowed and his mouth tightened; he swallowed hard before he finally smiled.
"I lived with him for so long, Evelyn, I never thought I'd have a chance at freedom. I had no idea that happiness was a possibility, and yet here I am."
I ran my thumb along his jaw and allowed him to settle his mind.
"He was a brutal master, even as his kind go. I was born to him, I knew nothing else. You have shown me such kindness, I can't lose that. I can't lose you."
"You won't,” I said matter of factly.
Once more, his eyebrows knitted. "How can you be so sure?"
I smiled. "Because you're mine, and I have defeated demons before, have I not?"
It sounded so easy in my head. Yet I remembered the great hulking beasts with the thick hides. It was no easy feat, and certainly not something I could do alone.
"I am a marrok, Evelyn; I was owned by a demon far greater than those creatures that came through the hellmouth."
There was some pride to him when he spoke of being a marrok; I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I didn't quite understand the meaning. A sensation of it fluttered in my mind. A sense of worth, of having worked for a position of respect.
He nuzzled against my hand and stood slowly. "Thank you for your reassurance."
I gave him a small nod before he slipped his hands around my waist, leaving them to sit on my lower back. "We still need to have that talk."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Need is a strong word."
He shook his head and stepped away. "Elise is waiting for us."
I smirked. “Perhaps the celestials will be there, you did so enjoy their company last time."
He snarled at me. I grinned back at him; the poor thing was easy to play.
His concern over his old master remained wedged in my thoughts. No matter how hard I tried to push it aside or to override it, it remained steadfast. The idea of facing such a foe didn't sit well with me. We had lost many good men, and beasts, the day of the hellmouth. I hadn't dealt with demons before, but I didn't want to do it again. I whispered a prayer to the moon goddess to guide and watch over us; I'd never considered myself a religious person before, but I was quickly becoming one. The world was changing at a breakneck pace, and I felt as though I needed someone, or something, to help. I couldn't carry the entire city on my shoulders.
