by Lexi Ostrow
Coming out of the stairwell into the main hall he could not help but grin. Christmas decorations were aplenty, and he rather enjoyed the deep scent of the spruce tree that was trimmed in the center of the room. The air was far colder outside than what he was used to, even in northern New York and he found this central space cozy, yet still encompassing the breathtaking vibe of winter.
Strolling to the back wall, he found himself whistling in enjoyment. He’d been a part of the Alliance for a terribly short time, yet he knew he belonged and was rather pleased with his choice to let his once employer leave that day. As he pushed the button on the lift in the main hall, he wondered what it must have been like before the war Lucius called “The Battle Betwixt Earth and Hell.” The inventors once had to pitter-patter quietly to the lift, or take stairs and hide that they walked lower than the main floor. They would have had to work in secret, unable to truly test their inventions properly as far as he was concerned and likely had told many lies to keep their actual work a secret from unknowing Guild Members.
The soft chime of the lift arriving pulled him from his distractions before the gates slid open. Stepping inside he looked around the lift in the hall. Uncertain as to whether it was impolite to ride it down alone, he shrugged to no one and selected the floor just below them, careful to make certain he hit the correct circle.
Within moments he was stepping off the lift, rather chuffed at how expediently and well the device performed. The smell of sulfur, burning metal and an open flame greeted his senses as he stopped before the lab entry. Smells he was rather fond of. Lifting his hand, he rapped three times on the metal door, and then placed his hands in his pockets as he waited for someone to allow him entry. He had been assured he would be granted a key shortly, but that he was not yet ready for one.
The door swung open, a shorter man whose name he could not remember nodded at him before walking away. This man makes Tesla look like a caregiver. Scientists were not known for being the most open with their affections, yet most at the Alliance were as passionate about life as they were their projects. He’d learned of so many, none quite ready, but so many he’d wished he’d thought of.
Eliza’s head was buried in some tiny metal bird, her attention so focused she didn’t even look up when he tapped on her desk. Hesitantly, he reached out touched her shoulder. Startled would have been a meek word for what he caused.
Eliza’s shout echoed through the hot workroom as her hands flailed, and the creature she had been tinkering with flew upwards, smashing into the ceiling with a loud noise.
“Oh, bloody hell,” she cursed as she tore the goggles off and looked at him. “Hugo.” Surprise laced the way his name was spoken and her face quickly softened. “Forgive. I have been trying to ascertain why I can make small wings function, but not large ones, for nearly a moon cycle. I grew too caught up in my work. Can you forgive me?”
He laughed. Eliza was absolutely one of the strangest people he’d met. She was passionate, brilliant and dedicated. Yet it appeared Eliza was also caring, unassuming and downright out to please when it came to everything but her work. Then there was the side of her he’d seen two eves ago when Lucius had been injured, and she’d seemed like a hellion in her quest to get to him and damn whatever had dared to touch him. He found the contrasting sides of her compelling, and it was not hard to see why she had been made a Master of her craft.
“Hugo?” She leaned closer to him before he answered her initial question. “What have you under your eye? Some ink?”
He frowned. If it had been some initiation, then she was either unaware or a brilliant actress.
“I woke up to find it there. I had assumed it might be a rite of passage amongst the Alliance members.”
She shook her head, her eyes squinted and her mouth in a rather serious thin line. Reaching out with her right hand she stopped just shy of his face.
“I know this is going to seem rather . . . personal . . . But I need to inquire if you have been with Clara.”
Heat rushed to his face so expediently his body seemed to lean backwards and his head grew light feeling. He wasn’t certain if the reaction was caused by the sheer inappropriateness of a woman asking a man his bedmate, or because she somehow knew.
Sighing, she dropped her head to her hands. “You must learn to guard your expressions better, Mr. Clark.” Her tone was suddenly stern as if she was scolding him.
“What would my interactions with Clara have to do with a mark on my face?” He wasn’t certain which was stronger in his words, annoyance, or curiosity. Surely Eliza had no special gifts simply because she was married to a demon.
“Succubae and Incubi can leave a little something behind . . . sometimes. Well, all demons can.” She scrunched her face and appeared to examine the mark under his eye again. “Though rarely on humans.”
Bloody hell. “So, all the world can tell I’ve bedded a demon?” He’d meant to think such a question, not state it aloud.
“Not that there is anything wrong with bedding a demon, but yes. Any that know of demons will most certainly be able to tell it has occurred. Give me one moment. It would be best if I speak to Clara and perhaps bring her to converse with you.” She shuffled away, still shaking her head.
Hugo’s mind swirled over the possibilities a demon might mark someone after sex. Perhaps it is for them to know to avoid such an interaction again. He shook his head, remember the way she quaked around him as she came, and her words after. More than likely a way to mark someone as a proper fuck. He grinned at the thought, no matter that it was the crassest one he had ever had.
He found himself looking around the room, trying to get a glimpse of such a mark on any of the men and women working around him. If any others had one, it was not as readily visible on them. Will it wear away? The thought slammed into him with panic. A scientist with a rogue’s mark on their body would find it rather difficult to seek employment—assuming he ever needed to do such an activity again.
“Hugo?” Eliza spoke from behind him.
Turning, he saw Clara with her, green eyes refusing to meet his. She must think I find the mark embarrassing.
“I do not mind that you’ve marked me, even if the heart is effeminate.”
“You’ll mind. I promise you.” She spoke to the ground, her words flat and lacking the passion he’d heard mere hours earlier.
“I can assure I will not.” He reached to take her hand in his, but she pulled back. “I did not go to bed with you for any reason other than I desired it. I have no qualms with your lack of humanity or any designs that such an activity will pass again. I am not one to claim another. I enjoy a good release, but my science is my love.”
Clara barked out a harsh laugh whilst Eliza sighed. There was a secret passing between the two women. One that had very little, if nothing, to do with his status within the Alliance of Silver and Steam.
“I am overjoyed to hear you find no shame in having taken pleasure in my body,” Clara said.
Eliza placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a knowing look. “Think before you speak, Clara. I beg of you, think first.”
“Think on what?” he demanded, his voice a far cry louder than he ever used with the fairer sex.
“It might be best if we retire from the labs. The night is young, and we may return once we have spoken.”
He stood his ground, pressing his feet so hard into the concrete floor he might as well have been secured to it. “I am learning this night, and do not think it wise for me to miss such a meeting.”
Eliza opened her mouth as if to say something and snapped it shut. She stood silently for a moment before calling another person over. “Landry,” she waved a rather young boy over.
A broad smile appeared on his face as he jogged over and wiped his soot-covered hand on his apron before slightly inclining his head to Eliza. “Yes, Ma’am?”
“Please see to it that Philippe knows a conversation involving Mr. Clark that precedes any importance of his training.”
>
“I will at once.” Landry sprinted away, leaving only the sound of the clanging closing door in his wake.
“What could be more important than my knowledge of the creatures we hunt? Surely I cannot be reprimanded for bedding a rather willing woman.” He flinched, feeling as if he’d likened Clara to a common whore with his words.
“We do not care with whom you do what, so long as it does not interfere with your work.”
Realization hit him like a jolt to the head. “You feel that our rut will cause problems on days she works in the labs?”
He heard Clara suck in a rather deep breath through her nose, but his attention was on Eliza. She had no right to pass judgment on his quality of work before he had a chance to adequately demonstrate his skills.
“I think,” she looked around and sighed, “that once we have spoken about the mark you bear on your cheek, everything will be clear. I have no desire to be involved, but as the Master of the Labs, I feel I must as you are both my charges.”
She ushered them to the back of the room where she pulled on a book. A strange groaning noise filled the room, and Hugo nearly choked when he saw the wall sliding back.
“Some time back our location was known to demons. The wrong demons. Precautions were taken so that key members could hide in plain sight to wait out an assault.” Clara said plainly, stepping inside the hidden chamber behind Eliza.
It took him some moments before he could squash his excitement at the secret antechamber and join the women. The moment he did so the groaning noise returned, and the wall slid back into place.
“Bloody brilliant,” he murmured and looked around.
It appeared to be an armory of sorts, but held two of the steam bikes and was illuminated by the crystals and not candlelight.
“We are at that,” Eliza said with a smile. “Now, both of you take a seat. Clara has a little lesson she must impart on you.”
Clara’s stomach rarely churned in fear, but it was. Finding out Hugo was not shamed by their encounter, nor currently detested the mated mark on his face was somewhat of a relief. Except that he’s likely going to be repulsed by what he’s about to learn. Why in the bloody hell did Eliza have to be the one to see him?
She looked up at his face, studying the small mark. It wasn’t unheard of for a human mate to receive the mated mark, but it was rare. His was small, smaller than the one on her wrist, but it was more prevalent. Unless he were interested in donning women’s makeup, his mark would speak to the world until he died, which thanks to the mating, would be a much longer way away as their life forces were linked.
She still didn’t wish to tell him about what she’d accidentally done to him, to them. He was young, by her guess he had to be less than thirty and two, and young to the Alliance. One should not have to start their career by learning that they are tied to a demon. Especially a sex demon as that mating carried a much heavier burden. Succubae and Incubi can bed none other than the one carrying their mark. Without Hugo’s acceptance or tolerance, she would die.
Eliza cleared her throat and set her hand on Clara’s leg. There was nothing she could do to avoid the predicament they were in. Honesty wasn’t oft a demon’s strongest attribute, and it was making her uneasy. A mating did not mean that one had to love the other, but she could sense his rejection would sting for reasons she could not comprehend.
“Hugo, do you remember this morning when you mentioned that you were drawn to me?”
He nodded slowly, eyes staring into hers. “Of course. It was not a lie. I admit, there was a greater sense of . . . urgency . . . once we began to touch one another.” His face flamed red, a clear indication that despite his forwardness in his chambers, he did not find discussing matters of a sexual nature an appropriate task.
“Yes, that is because once I am engaged, I cannot help what my partner experiences. I am however only referring to the desire you felt toward me without my intervention.”
“I understand. If you are asking me once more if I am certain of what I felt, I am. You are stunning, brilliant if you work among scientists and fierce if you defend a species not alone at the risk of your life.”
His words warmed her, his acceptance of her felt like her greatest accomplishment. A smile spread on her lips, and she dared to hope that what she would tell him next would not turn such polite words to snarled curses.
“There is a reason behind that attraction. One that has naught to do with anything I did.” Well, that is not entirely truthful.
She looked to Eliza, silently begging the woman to help her. Despite being a century older than Eliza, she knew the other woman had more life experience than she. Eliza was also the subject of a demon mating. All she offered was a slight nod and pointed at Clara’s wrist.
Her hand immediately covered the matching mark on her wrist.
“What is going on?” Hugo’s voice rose an octave, and his nostrils flared.
“I believe Clara is trying her best to be delicate. Please give her a moment to collect herself.” Eliza pegged her with a look, “else I will speak on her behalf.”
She was tempted to remain silent and force Eliza to do her work.
“You felt those things because we are mated.” She blurted the words whilst staring at the toes of her brown boots. If she didn’t see his reaction, it couldn’t hurt.
“We are what?” he asked, his voice devoid of any clues as to his emotions.
“Demons seek partners in a different fashion than human. Some believe it to be a chemical reaction, scientific in nature. Others believe that it is fated and cannot be outrun or forced.”
“That did not answer my question.”
She looked to Eliza who once again, offered nothing but an encouraging look.
“We are . . . Biologically or spiritually tied together. There is a part of you that is the perfect fit for a part in me.”
“So, you branded me?” He was finally emoting; incredulousness.
“I did not. It is something that occurs after sex. I can no more place it than I can take it away.” She uncovered her wrist and twisted it so he could see it. “Whilst a human isn’t oft marked, the demon always is.”
He did not touch her, but his eyes roamed over the mark as if comparing it to the one he had viewed on his face. His expression did not change, merely held onto the anger it had before learning she had the same stain. “And this is a sex demon trait? Tying yourself to a random lay you know naught about?” he practically sneered the question.
Fear collided with hurt at his statement. He was unfamiliar with her culture and likely scared. She should not hold him accountable for his words, but they still stung. He’d been so kind and polite, even as he’d taken exactly what he’d wanted from her. The coldness in his voice was hard to swallow.
“As a man of science, I would have expected you to better listen to my words. I did not choose this. I did not create the mark, nor did I will it to be created. I am as much a prisoner to this fate as you are.” Her tone neared a squeak as anger grew whilst she spoke.
“What does this entail? What you’ve done to me? How did you do it?” he fired the questions in succession, sounding more detached from the situation and more like an inventor trying to determine where they failed an invention.
She snarled and sighed, trying to rein in her fury, least she hurt her mate and damn herself. “This is a product of sexual release. When two that are mated - regardless of how you believe it comes about - sleep together, it is triggered. I implore to ask the mated demons at the Alliance of it. It is not controllable, and I believe most were rather infuriated to learn of it.”
Eliza finally spoke. “Whilst it was a good many years ago, I can tell you that with myself and Lucius, it was not a stress-free moment. Not simply because I learned we were mated, but because I learned he was a demon in nearly the same sentence.” She chuckled. “I also had to learn it all from Felicia Westham and not my lily-livered husband. I ran from him. Eventually, I came around, admittedly for the sensu
al side of what I felt. Yet, it was impossible to resist all facets of Lucius. He was, is one of the most amazing men I have ever met. The mating bond drew out the best in him, and it was mere days before I would have laid down my life, my position in the Alliance, for a life with him.” She smiled, reminiscing about her past. “Thankfully I did not have too.”
Clara had never had a genuine desire to find a mate, yet hearing the wistful way Eliza spoke of Lucius as her mate, not her husband, made her wish Hugo would too come around in time.
He was mute, staring at the two women as if they had grown into the hideous description of higher demons complete with horns and dripping fangs.
“Please continue. Though I do find a measure of comfort that you seem to utterly and blissfully happy with your husband . . . mate.” Hugo corrected.
“Many will find themselves in a relationship with those they mate. It is likely due to the strong desire they feel toward the other. Whilst they learn one another, it becomes apparent that the mark is something more than sexual. Much like what Eliza and Lucius experienced. However, Felicia and Greyston would be more apropos for our situation. When a sex demon finds their mate, they are tied to them inexplicably, unable to find release with another’s body.”
“And that is a problem?”
She nodded slowly. “If my kind do not climax regularly, we perish. As Lucius needs fear to survive, I require sex. Food is delicious, but not what keeps my heart beating.”
“What you are saying is that until I die, I must help you live.”
At least he does not sound disgusted. “That is correct. I expect nothing more from you. I find you intriguing, and handsome, but I do not seek anything from you behind your company in bed. I will not tread upon your life, nor do I care if you find a life with someone else. I just ask that for now, you help me live.”
