by Lexi Ostrow
“Aye, disnae also mean we have tae go back?” Kellan sounded sick.
Seraphina had finally stopped laughing, though amusement still danced in her eyes. “It will mean just that.”
“Where is this that you’ve been before?” Hugo asked, apparently not caring if he was supposed to remain quiet. “And I still do not see what you will need from me.”
“There is an entrance to Hell deep with the mountains there. Many of us went when my life was threatened.” Odette sounded as if the mere mention of the memory upset her. “We lost my father, my adoptive father, that night.” She blew out a slow breath as Philippe touched her shoulder. “You will be needed to tinker with light. What you did, shooting a current out, it should be harnessed into a weapon and used against the demon.”
She wasn’t certain if the idea of creating the failure again made her feel less like he’d failed, or terrified her. “We could destroy a train in motion if we foul up.” Hugo looked to her, obviously mirroring her sentiments.
“You will need the ship,” Eliza added, seeming happy to contribute something to the cause.
“Nay. Absolutely nay. I willnae.” Kellan stammered before locking eyes with his wife. “Ye and tha Angels will flash us.”
“That is not possible, Kellan,” Nathaniel said, uncrossing his arms from his chest. “Dieargog would sense that many disruptions in the space. It would take at least ten of us to flash as many fighters and equipment.”
“That ship cannot hold many,” Philippe added.
“It cannot. But it can send the first party, and the Angels can flash the rest.” Eliza supplied.
“Bloody hell, you lot make everything difficult.” Jacob shook his head. “The Angels will flash as close as they can, and the party will climb the rest of the way.”
“No one is climbing those mountains with all that gear. He will still sense us coming.” Lucius spoke. “The ship will draw undue attention as well, but it will give us an aerial upper-hand. It must be done.”
Kellan groaned, and Hugo wondered just how terrible a journey on a ship could be. Then he realized he’d heard a key word . . . aerial.
“This ship takes to the air?” Hugo balked.
“Aye. The bloody bitch does.” Kellan scowled.
“Enough. We are allowing him to gain power with every moment that we wait.” Odette barked, her authority practically on display for all to see. “Clara and Hugo. You created the primary current, so you will go and work until you can create the same effect within a weapon . . . and it had best occur before you reach the mountains. Lucius, Greyston, Thomas Jr., Felicia and Seraphina will go as well. We need our demons to protect us, and frankly, I’m not interested in fighting with Felicia about sending her husband and son without her.”
Felicia smirked. “Glad you thought of that, but I think I’d best stay behind with my daughter. I’ve had my fair shares of journeys into Hell. Thomas should learn what it is he will one day step into when he is ready for a council seat, and I have a feeling a Succubus and an Incubus Demon might be able to gain the upper hand, no matter how mighty this creature is.”
“Very well. If for the first time in the history of your time here you wish to stay behind that is perfectly all right.”
“I’d be happy to babysit Kellan.”
“Aye! You dinnae journey tha last time.” He balked.
A chorus of laughter rose, and even she found herself amused at the terror in his words. In all the time she’d known him, nothing had seemed to startle him.
“A flying ship seems useful. Eliza, might you walk me through its function? As you are not attending, I think it wise to have someone versed in it, should there be a problem.”
“Hugo, that is very noble of you. When we finish, I will show you the schematics. The ship is not in London and will take a day or so to bring to the field we use. Lucius and I will retrieve it.”
Odette nodded. “Good. Then we will prepare to leave in two nights time. Layel, flash Lucius and Eliza to the ship when they are ready.”
She half expected the Guildmaster to bang a gavel on the table and announce that the meeting was over. Instead, she simply stood from her seat, pushed it back under the table and began to walk towards the door.
“Clara, will you walk with me tomorrow? If there is a chance we will not return, and I sense it is a significant chance, I would like one last normal day with you. To pretend as if we had all the time in the world to explore what we have.” Hugo asked, his voice utterly nonplussed at what had just occurred.
Her lower lip trembled, showing her smile was merely an act. “I would love that, Hugo. Go and learn. I will be ready when you return.”
Exhaling, he let go of her hand and walked towards Eliza. She presumed he was glad that at least if he were to go to his death, he would get to see a flying machine before it happened.
Thirteen
Seeing Clara was one of the best moments of his day, better even than learning of a true flying vessel the night before. She was dressed in a stunning green gown, her black hair curling in rings and secured with a pale green flower at the back. Her eyes lit up when they met his, and he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his lips.
“Clara,” he smiled, taking her hand in his and dropping a kiss on it. It was smooth, nothing to indicate she toiled in a lab or stalked the streets for demons each night. Everything about her was as such, utterly feminine and giving the appearance she lived in luxury.
“Good evening, Hugo.” Her smile widened, and she genuinely seemed to be glad to see him.
Tucking her arm against his body, he began to walk down the palace steps. The winter chill had not left, and flakes fell in large clusters from the sky. The cold didn’t bother him, not under the cloak Jacob had lent him for the journey to come. The black wool garment fit snug, blocking the winter freeze from reaching him. Clara had donned a white shawl, covering her shoulders but leaving most of her arms exposed.
“Will the cold affect you?” He asked, uncertain to if demons felt the weather.
“I love the cold.” She offered him a lopsided smile and a laugh. “I suppose when you spend many years in the depths of Hell, winter is a miracle you never thought could exist.”
Smiling, he lifted his hand to signal the palace coachman. “I know I had requested we take a walk, but I believe a carriage ride through the city is a much better use of our night together.” He left off the sentiment that it might be their only night together if they did not survive what was coming.
Two dark horses clomped up, their hooves a delicate clip-clop in the snow. The carriage was white with sheer golden curtains covering the window. A horse whinnied, and Hugo shifted his gaze to find Clara gently stroking its muzzle.
“Animals don’t oft allow demons near them.” She continued to run her hand over the animal’s smooth coat, smiling as she did so.
The image nearly took him to his knees. Clara had been a great many of things since they had met a few weeks prior: sassy, sensual, intelligent, excited, and even scared. Yet she had never appeared as happy as she did whilst stroking the giant animal. Her smile was small, yet it lit up her face and seemed to dance in her eyes as she looked at the black steed.
“You like animals.”
Turning to look at him she nodded. “I have rarely found one that trusts my demon nature enough to allow me proximity. When they have, I’ve found it most enjoyable.”
She took his offered hand, stepping up into the carriage as if she had been riding in them all her life. The sway of her arse was pure sin, and he found himself worrying that she might need a release to take her through the travels at full strength. You’re going to come across like a lust-starved fool, he chastised, shaking his head to rid the image of standing behind her as he took her and stepping into the carriage with her.
The crushed velvet seats were plushier than any he’d ever sat upon, and he realized that Jacob had likely lent him the Royal carriage. Clara sunk into the chair, tilting her head back aga
inst and letting out a sigh.
“Do you . . .” he started, shifting in his seat as he hoped he found the exact words. “Do you need anything to be at full strength for what’s to come?”
A small laugh filtered betwixt them as she lifted her head, her eyes alight with amusement. “Whilst I do find it hard to think of much else when you are this close to me, I do not require it more than once a moon cycle to remain at full strength.” Slipping her slender fingers into his hand, she dropped a kiss at the nape of his neck, her warm breath tantalizing as she did.
He wasn’t certain if it showed, but a warm flush of embarrassment crept up his neck. “I do not know if I am glad to hear that, or slightly upset.”
Her boisterous laugh filled the small carriage and caused her curls to shake wildly. “I think all men, and women, would be upset to find that we are not the insatiable creatures we are painted to be . . . only when we hunger for our mates.” Her eyes seemed to glow with hunger, but she made no move to touch him.
They sat in silence, eyes locked on each other, as the carriage bumped and rolled along the cobblestone street. Hugo felt his pulse rise and his body begin to swim with desire, but tonight was not about desire. It was about courtship.
“Tell me,” he said as he took her hand in his and gently massaged her palm. “What your life his been like.”
“I have been many things in this life—a demon and a demon hunter. Had you asked me to hunt my kind a century ago I would have slit your throat at the mere mention of harming another. My low status did not plant any seeds for revenge, only the need to survive. Before the Alliance of Silver and Steam truly launched a war against demon kind, the Pure Angels judged us. They did what they felt was correct and just to keep the humans safe.”
“So, it is true then, that the Angels we thought of in Christian studies were based on demonic Angels.” Curiosity on the matter had plagued him since he’d met Layel, though one look at the man had made him almost certain the Angels were not one and the same.
“Yes.” Her eyes fluttered closed, and she seemed to lean into him, dropping her into his lap, as if indicating she would like the other massaged as well. “Angels have always been protectors. As you were likely told, Layel broke countless rules and nearly fell to alert the humans of the existence of demons when the threat became too large for them alone.”
“And you came to be at the Alliance by choice?” He worked his thumbs over her other hand, feeling the muscle tension slip away with each circle.
“I am not certain if one would say by choice.”
He stiffened, though she did not.
“Do not worry. I am here of my own will. It just did not begin that way. A hunter, one who has since left the Alliance, saved me from a demon during the Great Battle. I thanked him, but my eyes turned black, and he knocked me out. I woke to find myself in a cell.”
She blew out a deep breath, clearly uncomfortable with retelling her past.
“You do not need to continue. I understand if this brings painful memories.”
“It does, but I am past them. The Alliance did with me what any army would do with their enemy. They held me prisoner and tested me for my allegiance. I do not want to say I was well cared for whilst held in the dungeon, but I was not left to suffer over much.”
“How did you prove that you were not a threat?”
“I sat before the council. Seraphina and Layel went inside my mind, and after questioning, it was deemed I was an ally. I was asked to hunt but grew curious about the weapons used and requested time in the labs to learn. My time here was not always filled with acceptance, but the Alliance of Silver and Steam today is tolerant, and many demons fill positions across the world, not simply the London home sect.”
He was surprised to hear her speak of an organization that nearly killed her with such fondness. Though he’d seen naught to make him believe there was still hatred of any kind for ally demons, the demons he was taught to fear in Church were not forgiving.
“Where did you learn to do something as skilled as this?” her eyes slanted and she let out a small moan of pleasure.
His attention changed focus, her question bringing up his past. “I’ve worked with my hands since I was a boy of eight. It was important to learn how to work out the knots, so it did not cause me to lose work. My family was not poor, but there were six children to care for, work was necessary.”
“That’s nice, hearing about your childhood. You speak of it with a wistfulness I do not think you realize.” She opened her and smiled. “I have been alive for so many centuries I can scarcely remember my childhood.”
He laughed and then realized he was courting a woman who could potentially be as old as the Earth itself. “I’m certain this would get me flogged amongst human crowds, but how old are you, Clara?”
“Nearing six centuries. Young by traditional demon standards but fairly old as far as lesser demons go. Our appearance may be masked to humans, but the demons that hated us could still sense us. We are sadly easy targets for the stronger demons. Sensual prowess has little place amongst some and other,” she shuddered, genuine fear shining out of her eyes, “others you dare not want to lay claws on you.”
He wasn’t able to focus on the years she’d been alive. It was the final sentence drawing him in. The idea a demon could fear another was not strange, but the idea of rape amongst demons, especially one of her nature, struck him as strange. The fear in her eyes upset him on a visceral level. He wanted to track down any demon that had touched her without her consent and destroy them—painfully and ever so slowly.
His hand stopped massaging hers and took it almost harshly betwixt both of his hands. “Clara did you . . . did you ever have to use your nature to survive beyond the energy it provided?”
The comfortable silence from a moment before shifted into a tense, heavy weight that settled uncomfortably over them. Clara took sharp, shallow breaths, but did not look away from him. The fear in her eyes shifted, growing angrier the longer no one spoke.
“All demons have. One does what they must to survive when they’ve grown up in Hell. It is long in the past, but it was done more times than I think a human could comprehend.”
He tugged her against him, nestling her head under his chin and just held her there. When her arms slipped around his body, he was shocked. A demon, a warrior, such as herself had never seemed to need basic comforts.
“I’m so sorry, Clara. I would kill them all for you if I could.” He sighed, knowing the statement was useless not only because it was in the past, but because he was not a hero. “Unfortunately, I am good with my hands and my mind. That would not do well in battle.”
“Do not be foolish. The ability to plan a battle is necessary. Lucius is the Alliance’s greatest asset—far more so than any Angel—and he scarcely lifts a finger. He fights entirely with his mind, and he has saved humans with it.”
He chuckled slightly at the annoyance he heard in her words. “I admit, I enjoy hearing you stick up for me. However, my mind cannot reduce a man to their greatest fears. It can create weapons and tools to help others, though. Until meeting you, I had not cared that I was brains and not brawns. Now, I find myself wishing I could patrol with you, to be the one to keep you safe when you do your job.”
He hadn’t even known he’d felt that way until the words had come out, but they were true. The idea of her hunting with another did not bother him on a jealous level. However, knowing that none would protect her as he would, made him desire the ability to be combative.
“I rather enjoy the idea of someone wishing to keep me safe. Someone other than Thomas of course.”
A small growl slipped past his lips, and he froze, stunned at his reaction. “Do you . . . have you . . .”
She laughed loudly again, a fantastic sound that made him feel rather ridiculous for what he’d just attempted to ask. Lifting from his chest, he was relieved to see there was no longer any trace of her earlier fear, or anger, at him for his question. Amusement f
lared brightly in her dark brown eyes.
“Thomas and I have oft used our mutual need for sex to survive. I can assure there is nothing to concern yourself with. Whilst it is nice to indulge with my own kind, no one has ever made me feel the things you have.” She rotated in his lap, turning to face him before straddling him. “Whilst I do not require energy,” she let her hand slip betwixt them, stroking his hardening member, “I would very much enjoy a night with my mate.”
Placing his hand on the back of her head, he drew her mouth to his, groaning as she quickened her strokes on his shaft as their lips crushed together. She grasped him with all the familiarity of a practiced lover—tenderly and aggressively all at once. Slender fingers worked him as their tongues tangled together in a slow, passionate kiss.
Her full skirts seem to crowd his hands, and he worked to slip one underneath the green silk only to find a scratchy crinoline layer he had not been able to see.
“I find myself rather upset you are not in your traditional attire now.” The words were rasped as he pulled back from the kiss and finally found his way past the fabric layer to her knickers. He rubbed his index finger over her core, feeling his cock twitch at what he found. “You’re wet with desire.” His finger worked under the elastic band of her knickers and twirled in the hair that dusted above her core.
“Hugo.” Clara’s voice was strangled as she began to rock her hips over his shaft.
“I like the sound of my name on your lips when I please you.”
She smirked, sliding down the zip of his trousers with a tortuous slowness. “I like when you please me.” Gently, she tugged him from his pants, sliding her nails along his length.
“Harlot,” he joked, dragging his lips along the column of her neck.
“Yours.”
The word sparked him to motion, igniting a hunger unlike any he’d ever felt for a woman. He needed to be with her, be inside of her before he came like a young lad in his pants.
