Her smile faltered on the edges. “I see that it’s true; you really don’t know when to stop. You’re in my territory assassin. I could do with you as I want.”
“By all means, please try,” he stated.
She moved in, and then curtly took a step back, her face twisting in disgust. “You smell like the Beithir. You sweat its venom. You should be dead.”
“You already said that, but I’m quite alive,” he stated. He couldn’t smell the venom, but he felt it in his body, weakening him.
Lilith nodded and tilted her chin downward as if seeing through his skin. “The key means nothing to me. There is no joy in owning it. There is no strong emotion attached to a trinket that’s not even pretty to look at.”
“What will you trade for the key?”
She openly hummed her approval as she circled him. When she stopped in front of him, he met her eyes. “Who will you get close to, assassin, your mentor or you future alpha?”
Mercer’s feral growling never wavered as he fought. The alpha had to be tired, but the alpha refused to back down. He remembered the alpha being strong the night he took down the prior Texas alpha. He quickly shook the thought. He wasn’t interested in the alpha and though he felt something tugging in his stomach, leading him towards his mentor; that too was a situation he wouldn’t pursue.
He straightened his shoulders. “You’ll be disappointed in the outcome if you’re waiting for me to have relations.”
Her smirk was warm, her teeth straight and flat like a human. “Under that polished surface, you’re mad. You are exactly what you fear. You are rogue and rogues eventually go insane. They can’t climb back out of that madness.”
“Werewolves go rogue. I’m not a werewolf.” He spoke with conviction. There was a fight in the tunnel and this conversation was taking too long. “I don’t have time for games. What do you want for the key?”
“What any of my species wants; something truly and utterly valuable to our kind. I want the one thing you hold so dear. The one thing you believe defines you,” she said.
Wolffey shook his head. His chest tightened. “I will not copulate with you.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “An action that holds no passion to say would bring no pleasure to take. What I want is the trust and emotion that comes when you finally share that moment.”
Wolffey scrutinized the situation. “You’ll be waiting a long time. I have no desire to sleep with anyone.”
“I’m a demon, Wolffey. A hundred years your life is a flash in mine.”
It was a trade that favored him, since he would never be in that situation. “What are the final details? What would I lose?”
“I want the piece of you, that tiny emblem of hope you get when you start to trust. When your bodies coalesce and you feel complete, I will take that from you. You will never fully be able to give yourself to a mate for life.” She tilted her head, watching him closely.
It wasn’t much of a loss. That part of him she spoke about, he was unable to give. “We have a deal.”
Her smile stretched. “You really don’t understand what I’m taking from you.”
“It’s not high on my concerns,” he answered.
She shifted like smoke before taking form in front of him. He stayed rooted, even when she leaned forward, invading his space to place a kiss on his forehead. The pressure was great, knocking the air from his lungs. The world swirled quickly, swimming backwards until he was shot out of one darkness into another, breathing in the musk of wet earth.
When the disconnection settled, the chirp of crickets was the first sound he linked with the earth. He took another deep breath, filling his lungs with the musk of damp soil and flowers. It took effort, putting his arms under his body and pushing himself off the ground. His muscles were strained.
Mercer leaned against the tree; sweaty, exhausted, bloody and surprisingly attractive in his alpha glory.
TWENTY
"I want to burn that tree to the ground." Mercer’s voice cut through the ringing in Wolffey’s ears.
Wolffey gripped the key piece in his fist and sighed with relief. "It doesn't work like that. The tree was wide enough for us to walk through, so I used it as a visual. The doorway to the realm is much wider than that and burning a tree won’t close it off.”
The alpha would need a Christian based ritual that included cleansing the space. It was pointless when there were many more doorways that lead to Lilith’s. It was a discussion he was too exhausted to have, though Mercer didn’t look like he was up for an argument.
“Is this part of the fey world?” Mercer growled. His veins strained against his skin. His breathing was ragged. The smell of blood grew stronger.
Wolffey quickly sheathed his blade and pulled his sleeve down, connecting the button. His coat was gone. He glanced at the alpha, hoping he hadn’t seen the numerous scars. It was hard enough dealing with Mercer’s constant questions. The last thing he needed was for the questions to get more invasive.
“No.” He breathed through clenched teeth. He blamed the incubi scent on Mercer’s clothes for the lingering testosterone that muddled his feelings. They needed to leave the forest and Lilith’s power would lose its grasp.
“It’s amazing you managed to kill one of those demons. They’re quick,” Mercer said. The tension eased from the alpha’s shoulders first. His hands went to his blood soaked pants to apply pressure.
“It was distracted.”
Mercer didn’t move. “Do you know how to take a compliment?”
“I don’t need validation from a howler.”
The alpha jerked away from the tree and Wolffey braced for the fight. Mercer never closed the space between them. “News flash, pup, you’re not sporting long ears and a glittery aura. You’re a werewolf and you’re exactly like me. You need to accept that we’re your people.”
“Assassin’s don’t have people.”
Mercer hissed. His eyes shut as he focused on his breathing, diverting their disagreement to a larger concern. “You need to drive me to the farm. I need my pack.”
The alpha dug his keys from his pocket and threw them at Wolffey. He caught the key ring in midflight and stared at the numerous keys sitting in his gloved palm. These weren’t just the keys to the car; these were keys to the house. It was far too trusting.
Wolffey crossed towards the alpha. “I’ll help you to the vehicle, but I don’t operate Topsider equipment.”
He expected the alpha to fight his assistance as he lifted Mercer’s arm and draped it over his shoulder. He curved his arm around the alpha’s waist, feeling the solid wall of muscle that made up his torso. His feral masculine scent radiated through his clothing.
Mercer shuffled his feet for the first couple of steps before gaining control over his balance. The injuries were extensive. He reeked of blood. They both ducked under a low tree branch and the alpha paused to sniff the air. He really hated when werewolves did this in human form. It made them more animal than human.
“You’re injured,” Mercer said, turning his dark eyes on him.
It turned his stomach, meeting that gaze. It was a reminder they stood too close. “A small cut. It will heal.”
The cut in question on his arm burned with the sweat that dripped into it. The wound on his torso he couldn’t do anything about. It throbbed deep in his gut with every step he took. Mercer leaned closer and Wolffey stiffened, unsure if the werewolf would try to bite his neck and claim him as his mate. The alpha would be disappointed if he expected him to suddenly develop werewolf tendencies because of a full moon and a werewolf bite.
He was sweating by the time they reached the truck. Rufus sat on the hood, dangling his little feet over the side. When he saw them, his aura flared bright orange as he shot into the air. “Did ye get the key, lad?”
“Aye,” he mumbled.
Mercer stirred at the sound of his voice and straightened. He brought the alpha to the passenger side, and perched him against the side of the tru
ck. The keys were slick in his bloody fingers. He wasn’t surprised by the tremor in his bones. His gloves were saturated with Mercer’s blood.
A bloody hand gripped his, stilling his fingers and gaining his attention. Mercer’s eyes were starting to haze. “This is a crash course in driving, pup.”
Mercer took the keys from him and unlocked the truck door, then handed the key ring back. Wolffey took them, noting how Mercer’s fingers lingered against his gloved palm. The sweltering humidity and pure exhaustion left the alpha limp.
“I won’t make it back to the farm. We need to run here and you’ll have to steer me away from campers,” Mercer said, looking past his shoulder at the forest.
Wolffey’s throat went dry. He didn’t have the ability to snap out of existence if the werewolf suddenly turned its attention on him. “How?”
Rufus shouted with excitement. “This will be interesting.”
“Nay, shut up!” Wolffey growled at the spirit dancing on the truck hood. His bad mood didn’t tamper Rufus’s high hopes for entertainment. Mercer’s brows furrowed. The alpha thought he was insane.
“We will run together. An alpha can keep an injured alpha from going rogue and attacking innocent bystanders,” Mercer explained.
“He called ye an alpha,” Rufus said. He tapped his little chin. “Don’ werewolves fight to the death for that title?”
“Get in the truck,” Wolffey growled. His heart was beating hard with adrenaline.
“There isn’t time. I’m bleeding out,” Mercer countered.
“I’ll get you back to the farm before your situation is critical.” He had no intentions of babysitting a werewolf, who considered him a potential mate, through a healing cycle.
Mercer opened his mouth to dispute then promptly closed it. He heaved himself into the truck without help and slammed the door shut. Even with the metal barrier between them, Mercer’s scent left him hot in more places than his neck and shoulders. He walked to the driver’s side, feeling more earthbound now than he had in years.
“Eh, lad, ye really thinking of driving this thing?” Rufus followed behind him.
He answered Rufus by climbing into the driver’s side seat and shutting the door. The trapped air immediately compressed, thick with the smells they carried on them. He felt small behind the large wheel and all the gadgets, but he refused to grow overwhelmed. This was a simple task, drop the werewolf off on the farm, and get the other half of the key and leave. The werewolf in question had his head against the window, looking limper than week old graveyard flowers.
He watched Mercer do this. It couldn’t be that hard. He turned the key all the way and the engine scratched painfully loud. Mercer jolted upright and Rufus flew out of the truck window.
“Softer. Don’t push it all the way,” Mercer said. His voice was leaden.
He did as instructed and the engine caught. The truck vibrated with power. He waited a second longer for it to move, than raised his hands off the wheel to examine the dashboard. Nothing was happening.
“Put it in drive,” Mercer said. His head was thrown against the headrest, looking floppy like the rest of him.
When the vehicle crept forward, he tested both pedals at his foot making it lunge forward. Despite the bumpy take off, the alpha didn’t complain. He sunk into the bucket seat and closed his eyes.
oOo
The smell of roasting meat pulled Aire’Si from sleep. Ebbing pain shot through his right eye to the back of his skull. The skin inside of his mouth was swollen from the constant biting, which left the lingering metallic taste of blood on his tongue.
He raised his arms testing for restraints. There weren’t any, though his muscle was heavy and not readily malleable. He brought his hand to his good eye, wiping the fog that lingered in his vision. The motion made his hurt eye, ache more. Tentatively, he brushed his fingers over the gauze pad protecting his newest injury.
Before dropping his hand back to his side, he caught Wolffey’s scent. No matter how long he’d been with the fey, the smell of forest and fur never quite left his protégé’s skin. He swallowed hard, realizing that Wolffey had been lying exactly where he was. He had to collect his thoughts.
“If you were eventually going to drug me, you could’ve done it sooner,” Aire stated, cautiously sitting. The torture left a tremor under his skin. When the nausea lifted, he lowered his legs over the side of the bed.
“You got the point quickly,” Bohu said. The gypsy stood next to a tiny stove in the makeshift kitchen. His long hair was strung with darker beads at the nape of his neck. He now wore darker breeches, thin from numerous washes and a black billowy shirt with the vest unbuttoned over it.
Aire bite back his annoyance. The sedative was late in delivery. “I’m not thanking you.”
Bohu chuckled. “You should. I didn’t take your cornea, though you’re going to need a healer to keep your eye from getting infected as it heals.”
Small favors didn’t make them even. “You eat now? It only took you a few hundred years to digest food again,” Aire said. He didn’t try standing when the world was still spinning. His head was heavy enough to send him back onto the pillow.
“I’m older than you give me credit for.” He shifted the slices of meat onto a plate and dribbled a blood sauce over it. “Come, my friend, eat with me.”
“You should’ve restrained me if you wanted me to stay,” Aire said. He planted his feet and rose, cautious of his balance. When he didn’t fall back onto the bed, he took that as a good sign.
“Restraints aren’t necessary,” Bohu answered. The gypsy stepped to the side, allowing him space to cross.
He moved past the vampire, aware that Bohu watched him. The false calm didn’t fool him. The master vampire wasn’t suddenly docile. Without weapons, he was limited to hand-to-hand combat. When he made it to the door without incident, he studied the vampire who watched him just as openly.
“Even if you save him from Lotus, you can’t save him from your queen,” Bohu said.
Aire’Si grabbed the doorknob and heat scalded his flesh. He jerked back, but the damage was done. Blisters bubbled along his fingers and palm, marring his white skin. Daylight. He gritted his teeth as his wound pulsed.
Bohu sat two plates on the small table that folded down from the wall, going about his routine as if he didn’t have a livid fey trapped in his quarters. “Sit so we can discuss what’s going to happen next.”
Aire didn’t move, though it was ridiculous standing at the door until nightfall. His body was restless and his mind exhausted.
Bohu took a seat at the table with the kitchenette behind him. “You have a while before you can go anywhere.”
His stomach tightened with hunger as he watched Bohu prepare his steak for consumption. It was the metallic smell of blood that finally drew him to the table. He slid into the built in seat. There wasn’t enough room to sit across each other with their long legs. It annoyed him to brush against the vampire as he adjusted himself at an angle.
He stared at the plate, tempted. “You said Wolffey was dying. What is wrong with him?”
Bohu meticulously sliced his red steak and stabbed a chunk with his fork, popping it into his mouth. Seconds dragged as the vampire stared at him across the dimly lit space, before pointing to the food, indicating he should eat. A throbbing pulse gripped his wounded hand. There was no graceful way to maneuver the cutlery while injured.
“I’m surprised your queen would allow a loose end to run around free for so long,” Bohu said, popping another chunk of meat into his mouth.
His impatience grew. “Wolffey’s injury.”
“He was stung by a Beithir. Terrible affair,” Bohu answered. He let his fork settle on the plate and leaned back to study him.
“Wolffey has no reason to get involved with a demon.”
Bohu raised a quizzical eyebrow. A creature as old as the master vampire was worldly, but he didn’t understand everything. Aire fisted his good hand. Sun be damned, he needed to find
Wolffey. He shut his eyes and the scratching; dry ache from his injured eye was nearly as nagging as his blistered hand. The deep burnt pieces of his flesh left him stiff. He was in no better shape to fight Lotus than his protégé.
Bohu placed his elbows on the table and leaned in. “I can see why Sayen-ael kept him around. He’s resolute on his tasks. What is he determined to stay alive long enough to do?”
Aire stood and Bohu's body blurred into movement, catching him by the upper arms and forcing him back into his abandoned seat. He wasn't thrilled with the master vampire standing over him, but he allowed it. The space was too compact for a fight and they both needed protection from the sun.
He slowed his breathing. His injuries took more out of him than he was willing to admit. "What do you want Bohu?"
Bohu's pupils were blown wide, the blood lust was on him. They stood in silence staring at each other long after the adrenaline eased from his nerves. Self awareness softened the gypsy's face and
he took a step back.
"My orders were to keep you here until Wolffey is dead." Bohu slid into his dining spot across from him. "You have the daylight to heal and at night, I show you just how angry I am."
"My sins only," he replied, picking up the steak with his good hand. It was cold and malleable against his fingers. He preferred his food warm and alive.
"I hold no grudges against your protégé. He came to do a job and failed. He would've been my slave if you'd been a second later. It's your method of doing things that really pisses me off."
He pondered this as he sunk his teeth into the meat. Getting the Roswell Amulet from Wolffey was important, but it wasn't his top priority. He wasn't going to let his protégé fall victim to the demon venom or Lotus; however, nothing could be achieved if he didn't get away from Bohu first.
oOo
The truck skidded on the gravel, balancing on two wheels before it evened itself out with a heavy thud that rocked the carriage. Wolffey's iron grip on the wheel left his bones screaming in agony; adrenaline raced through his system. It was hard finding grace in controlling something that didn't have a brain to read his subtle gestures, like a horse to its reins.
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