“Stephan?”
Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Stephan promptly looked away and replied gruffly, “No. Let's go.”
Walking on in the effort of putting this newest occurrence of staring out of his mind, he couldn't help noticing a satisfied smirk on Maddox's lips once she caught up. It was a look suggesting she'd noticed his stare, and was pleased by it.
The notion prompted him to ask without thinking, “What the hell are you smiling about?”
“Not a damned thing,” she retorted, her smile growing bigger.
She'd definitely noticed.
“You think I was staring at your legs?”
“I know you were staring at my legs.”
“Maybe,” he conceded, “but just because it's a shame.”
“A shame?”
Nodding, he explained, “Nice legs on a monster are a waste.”
In response, Maddox let a disappointed sigh indicating she may have believed he wouldn't be so petty—and likewise, Stephan actually felt guilty for the insult.
After all of his grousing over continually noticing her looks, or how likeable she was turning out to be, he should've been glad he'd managed to treat her like any other vampire.
But it didn't sit right. Not one damned bit.
The shame brought him to a stop in his tracks so he could issue an apology. But Maddox walked past before he got the chance, stating on the way, “As is time wasted on intolerance. Better to be a monster for what I am than for the actions I take, Stephan.”
He watched her move on without offering an argument—why should he? She was completely right. Spending five years hunting down vampires that needed to answer for their crimes may have been just, but he'd grown hateful and intolerant along the way without taking a single moment to even consider it because he didn't see any point to it.
Hell, I still don't see a point. The truth of the matter was simple—if they could confirm Lillian's death, his work was finished, and so was he.
So it honestly didn't matter if he'd slighted Maddox. She'd live on long after he was gone, and if her desire for change stayed true, she'd accomplish great things while he became a speck of a memory—if even that much.
No sense regretting what doesn't matter in the end.
15
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Maddox wasn't at all offended by Stephan's remark. The abuse he'd suffered would've been instrumental in training him to reject and offend vampires at any given opportunity without even thinking about it. So it wasn't unexpected.
She was, however, annoyed at herself for being so drawn to him despite her resolve to let things go. His intolerance made honoring their blood link impossible, yet she found herself wondering anyway.
Could she help him see past his hatred? Was there a way to comfort his pain? Any reason to?
She wished there was a simple answer, but as it turned out, things between them were only getting more complicated as time passed—and not wholly because of Stephan's intolerance. Instead, Maddox was truly beginning to question what type of blood link they had, particularly when he seemed so physically attracted to her.
Could it be possible that their connection was one of lovers? Gods, I hope not.
Such a tie was rare, and though Maddox had wished to find one before, having it with Stephan could end up being disastrous. Unlike other blood links, finding a lover affected the life of a vampire in ways that were both beneficial, and detrimental.
On one hand, if the mortal was turned, the lover's blood bond was strong enough to allow them to drink from one another, eliminating the need for feeding on humans altogether. On the other, if one died, the survivor would suffer from a number of afflictions, the most adverse of which was a dormant heart.
Without a lover, a vampire's heart simply refused to work no matter how well they'd fed, making it crucial to be wary around humans with a lover's link, particularly if they weren't suitable for turning—and she wasn't convinced that Stephan was if only because of his history.
Certainly, he had the endurance to lead the life of a vampire, but the actual will?
Not so much.
She inwardly sighed at the thought. Under different circumstances, the blood link could've forged a strong, meaningful bond between them that most people desired, but not everyone found.
Yet all chances of that were now damaged, likely beyond repair. You've certainly done a number on me, Lillian, I'll give you that.
The magistrate was at least a part of the cause for Stephan's hatred, after all, and Maddox almost hoped Lillian was still alive just so she could end the bitch herself.
Making a turn into an alleyway between two buildings, Maddox pushed the thoughts away as they approached a door with a small red sign above it that read Foxy's. For all intents and purposes, it looked to be closed—or even shutdown completely. But the desolate business front was probably intended to keep mortals at bay.
So she reached up and grabbed the knocker, rapping three times.
Stepping back, she glanced at her mortal companion to see him warily sweeping the surrounding area with his gaze, as if he didn't trust the quiet. Maddox couldn't say she blamed him, but turned her attention to the entrance when heavy footfalls sounded from inside the building.
They drew closer until a momentary silence lapsed just before the flap covering three notches in the door opened. A bright blue eye peered out at them from behind it at the same time the doorkeeper's gruffly spoken comment hit their ears.
“We're closed.”
Stephan joined Maddox at the entryway, looking rather uncertain. But she merely smiled and replied confidently, “You don't need to be open to tell me if Foxy's around, Pete.”
Petelugu was an ogre, one who'd vowed more than a century ago to protect Ineya for life. Though, unlike demons, ogres weren't immortal, they simply had very long lifespans, meaning the vow wasn't eternal. But Maddox couldn't imagine finding her good friend without Pete somewhere nearby.
So his presence was proof that they were in the right place.
The only question remaining was whether or not Pete would actually remember her and allow them entry. His intelligence was better than most ogres—one might call him a prodigy of ogrekind—but it still took a bit of prodding to get him to retain certain details.
Luck appeared to be on their side, however. After staring for only a moment, the ogre asked incredulously, “Maddox?”
“You remembered!” she grinned proudly.
Without pause, the door opened and Pete stepped out. His height dwarfed Stephan's, as did his build—brawny arms, a rounded belly, and two tusks jutting up from his bottom lip that offered an intimidating air to an already imposing creature.
Grinning, he grabbed Maddox, lifting her from the ground in a tight hug and exclaimed, “We thought you dead!”
“Don't squeeze me, Pete, don't … you're squeezing,” she muttered.
“Sorry,” he apologized, placing her safely down again, then turned a set of wary blue eyes on Stephan. “Who's he?”
“He's … actually, I think he has some ogre in him, Pete.”
Taking her suggestion seriously, the ogre sniffed the air to get Stephan's scent, then scoffed. “No he don't.”
Snickering, Maddox waved a hand as if to wave the topic away. “Is Foxy here?”
“She might be,” Pete answered vaguely. “But he can't come in.”
“Oh, come on. Stephan's not so bad.”
“No, I can't let no mortals—”
“Petelugu!” Maddox snapped on a motherly tone of voice. “You will let us both in right this minute or I won't give you the candy I brought.”
The mention of candy was enough to give the big, stubborn ogre pause. “You got candy?”
“Yes, and you'll get it as soon as you let us in.”
In a huff, he muttered, “Fine, but just cause it's you.”
“I know, if I were anyone else, you'd bite my head off.”
“Not yours,” Pete countered.
Yet, the moment they stood in the enclosed space and the door was shut, Pete's attitude toward Stephan changed completely, and all because he could detect the scent of the chocolates in his pocket.
Narrowing his gaze on the mortal, he asked, “You got the candy?”
“He does, so be nice to him and you'll get it when we see Foxy.”
The ogre let a low, annoyed growl, but Maddox only grinned, following him down a set of stairs to a door at the bottom landing which led into the heart of the club.
Just like the outside, it was devoid of people. The lights were on low and chairs were all settled upside down on the table tops, save one seat where some type of child's card game was set up—undoubtedly Pete's.
The moment they were inside, the ogre called, “Foxy, you got visitors.”
From a door across the room that led into the back of the establishment came, “Pete, I told you this place is off limits for the entire week.”
Maddox would know that voice anywhere, and it was getting louder, suggesting the succubus was heading toward the area from the hall as she added, “Who would you even—oh.”
Foxy stopped speaking the moment she entered the room in all her fashionable glory. With her platinum hair in neat spirals, she wore a pink pencil dress that left very little to the imagination over the shape of her body, and her matching stilettos made her long legs look even longer.
The minute her burgundy eyes landed on Maddox, Foxy's expression went from annoyance to complete surprise.
“Maddox?”
“Hello, Foxy,” Maddox greeted playfully. “Why in the world are you going by that name?”
Hiking her shoulders, the blonde retorted, “It was the late 60s and it stuck.”
“I'll take your word for it,” she chuckled.
“You wouldn't have to if you'd been around,” Foxy remarked. “What the hell happened to you anyway?”
She sounded incensed, as if abandoned by her long-time friend. But the reaction only lasted for a moment before she exhaled and headed toward the vampire, declaring, “Oh, fuck it, I'm just happy to see you again.”
Maddox grinned and met her halfway, embracing Foxy in a tight hug. “So am I, and you're just as gorgeous as always.”
“You don't look too bad yourself,” Foxy returned, backing up to perform the usual inspection.
Maddox didn't resist, turning around in a circle as she asked, “I have your approval?”
“Mostly. Is this new?”
“Yes, I did a little shopping before I came to see you.”
“Why is that? Don't you have anything else to wear?”
“Aside from the things I just put in the car, no. I haven't exactly spent the past seventy years in the lap of luxury, after all.”
Foxy pursed her lips. “And here I'd hoped you were abducted by some virile male who wouldn't give you a single day's rest.”
“I wish,” Maddox muttered. “But no, I was sealed in the grave actually.”
“Sealed in the grave?” Foxy didn't sound at all happy about that. “How did you escape?”
Motioning to Stephan, she answered, “This ogre-friendly stick-in-the-mud dug me up.”
He narrowed his gaze over the comment, but didn't say a word as Foxy regarded him. “And he is?”
“His name is Stephan,” she began, then glanced up at Pete who was still standing behind the mortal as if waiting on something in specific. “Oh, you might want to give him the candy.”
As if he'd forgotten, Stephan reached into his pocket and turned the bag of chocolates over to the ogre as payment. Pete gladly took them, then went to sit down where the deck of cards was laid out and resumed his game.
Foxy smirked, “So that's how you convinced Pete to let you both in.” Offering her attention back to Stephan, she added, “And it's a pleasure.”
Silently, Stephan nodded—without offering a lingering stare to her breasts the way most did, and not because they necessarily wanted to. Both succubi and incubi were naturally appealing, particularly to mortals, so Stephan was either well disciplined, or his status as a votary made him resistant to Foxy's allure.
Whatever the case, Maddox actually felt flattered. In the parking deck, he'd stared at her legs as if he hadn't seen a woman in years, and now, he was treating a succubus like an average female.
But Foxy didn't seem to notice, qualifying, “You've picked the perfect night to show up. I was bought out for the week, and as you can see, things have been quiet.”
“Who bought you out?”
“A demon wanting some quite time in a place with access to booze,” Foxy shrugged, then took Maddox's arm and urged her toward the bar. “Excuse us for just a moment, Stephan, we need to have some girl talk.”
Stephan didn't look too happy with the verdict, but then again, he never looked happy.
At the bar, Foxy stuck her hand over the counter and down into an open space behind it, pulling up bottle after bottle until she found what she wanted—blood mead.
Taking a seat in a stool, Maddox crossed one leg over the other and accepted it, asking, “Scarlet Blessing? Oh, chocolate mint flavored?”
“To celebrate your return,” Foxy explained, sliding a goblet across the polished bar. “It's a new brand, and nine out of ten fangs agree, it's the best stuff on the market.”
Smirking, Maddox opened the bottle and tilted it to pour into the goblet while Foxy added, “So, that human doesn't look too friendly, but he's certainly eyeing you up.”
“I know, he likes to pretend he doesn't notice my appeal because he loathes vampires.”
Her friend cast a particularly devilish smile in Stephan's direction. “Forbidden fruit, hmm? No wonder he's so drawn to you.” Then, after a bit of consideration, she remarked, “He's ragged now, but he'd clean up nicely.”
“I know, I have a razor with his name all over it. It's just a matter of convincing him to accept the royal treatment, saying he even deserves it.”
“Oh?” Foxy grinned impishly. “Has he been bad?”
Smirking, Maddox shrugged, “Not entirely, just painful to deal with because he's so set in his ways.”
“And if I know you, that's just a point of interest. You like the stubborn ones.”
Irritatingly true, she thought, but knew better than to comment. If Foxy learned she was remotely interested—particularly because of a blood link—she'd start playing matchmaker, and Maddox had more pressing issues to worry about.
So she remarked plainly, “Maybe, but as much as you might live for it, I didn't come here for relationship advice.”
“I didn't think so,” Foxy returned. “We have a lot to catch up on, too. You know, I hosted a memorial for you.”
“Really?” she asked, intrigued.
“Yes, at the hotel I used to own. Of course, it wasn't a mourning type of memorial. Instead, there was dancing, drinking, orgies, you know, the kind of things people are interested in doing.”
A loud laugh escaped Maddox. “So you brought people together to drunkenly fuck in my memory?” After a few chiding tsk's, she added, “You'll use any excuse, won't you?”
As if an explanation was unnecessary, Foxy enunciated, “Succubus, remember?”
“How could I forget?” she chuckled, but for as enjoyable as their idle chatter was, it was time to get to the meat of the conversation, and the best way to do that was by asking, “So, did you hear of anything strange concerning me after I disappeared?”
“Aside from you simply vanishing? Not a word, which was the strangest thing of all. Even The Crucible began a search, but they didn't find a trace.”
Surprised, Maddox inquired, “The Crucible?” At Foxy's nod, she went on, “Why would they look for me?”
“No clue, and I can only guess they thought your case was tied to some issue concerning mortals.”
That was the only reason Maddox could think of as well. The Crucible wouldn't have concerned themselves with the
disappearance of a single vampire otherwise. But she wasn't left with a lot of time to mull the possibility over when, following her statement, Foxy's countenance became grim.
It was an expression she only used amongst her closest friends, and only when a situation was truly dire.
“What's wrong?”
“Have you heard about Mathias?”
Maddox's breath hitched over the question, fighting to stay composed while inquiring, “Heard what?”
“He went missing the same time you did.”
Hearing this, her heart crashed in the pit of her stomach—it was just hard to tell if she was more disappointed over the lack of news, or relieved that Foxy hadn't related something devastating.
Releasing a pent up breath, Maddox nodded, “I know. I was hoping you had information about that.”
“Nope,” Foxy drew out. “I haven't seen or heard of Mathias since your disappearances, and I could only guess you both shared the same fate.”
“Yes, he and I were entombed by the same vampire,” she explained, waving Stephan over now that their girl talk was done.
The votary wasted no time, joining them from where he'd waited near the door, and the moment he was within earshot, she informed Foxy, “So we both need to know everything you can tell us about Lillian Deavlis.”
In response, the succubus canted her head, her burgundy eyes glinting in a manner that suggested she hadn't expected the name, but may have heard it recently. “Lillian? You mean the Rymid magistrate who had some questionable dealings with the Kalar several nights ago?”
At that, Maddox and Stephan exchanged a knowing glance. Foxy had just unwittingly added support to their theory that Lillian was involved in the incident Giroux was investigating.
But Maddox momentarily reserved judgment, and confirmed Foxy's suggestion.
“That's the bitch, and whatever information you have could be extremely useful in finding her.”
In response, the succubus scoffed. “I hope you're looking for ashes then, because I know for a fact that Lillian's dead.”
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Fallen Hearts Page 13
