by Lexi Ostrow
When she watched them close the door to where Lucius captioned the airship, she finally turned back to Philippe. Distraught was not the word for how he looked. His entire body radiated with tension and his eyes were heavy. Wet streaks trailed down his cheeks. He’d cried with her. She hadn’t even realized.
They sat together, looking at one and another, but not saying anything for some time. She wanted to start the conversation so many times, but couldn’t make her mouth open to ask how her father had been killed.
Philippe finally sighed and stood up. He walked away from her and to one of the windows that wasn’t covered with a tarp to prevent the wind from coming in. “It was Thrashes. Two of them.” She watched his body heave with a deep breath and saw his fists clench at his sides. “I swear to one day kill every last one of them. They’ve taken enough parents and siblings of hunters.”
The grief in his voice was breaking down her composure. Knowing that it was some of the vilest demons they knew about to have killed her father, did not make it any easier. He hadn’t been that old, he hadn’t been agile either. He’d been desk bound for so many years that he would not have had a chance.
Philippe continued talking, and she could hardly hear him as he faced away from her, so she stood and slowly walked to his side.
“It was the two of us, shortly after you were taken, we split up differently. Lucius went to get the flower. It was stupid in hindsight, but I think we were so terrified we didn’t think right. Kellan went off on his own,” he snorted, “ironic he made it out of that safely, and yet we couldn’t get him out.”
He was as distraught over Kellan as she was, but the moment was about her father. Gently, she stroked her fingers down his arm. “My father, Philippe, he was with you, wasn’t he?” She was praying he said no. If he said yes, it meant Philippe hadn’t protected her father as he should have, and she wasn’t ready to hear that.
He finally turned. His eyes were dead, no emotion coming through them, and she felt her throat constrict.
“He was with me. We were in another fucking tunnel. Seraphina had us ambushed. We only had one gun from the crash. I made sure he had it so he would have a distance weapon.” He paused and looked away from her. “Odette, you should have seen him. He was brilliant. He took down an Imp without a thought, straight through the…I don’t even remember anymore.”
“Then what?” She prayed to hear he didn’t know, that he had been knocked out, and came too with her father dead.
“I turned to make some dimwitted joke, and suddenly the Thrashers were running at him. I shouted, but there was no way to get in betwixt him and the demons, and he had the gun. I don’t think he had any clue as to why I shouted. The attack was so fast. One impaled its claws through his chest whilst the other tore his throat out.”
She gagged, the image forming in her mind as clearly as if she’d been there. He’d let his guard down, and her father was dead. She could see them in the tunnel, Philippe relaxing, thinking it was over, and then the terrifying yellow demon attacking. She saw her father, blood everywhere, and it caused her to cry out.
“I held him, Odette. As he died. I held him. He…he asked me to tell you he loved you. To make sure you knew how much he loved you.”
Rational thought was gone. All Odette knew was her father was dead, because he’d gone to save his daughter, and because the wonderful Philippe hadn’t been so wonderful.
“You need to stick to hunting solo. That’s an order. Power falls to me in the demise of my father. You’re not a good hunter, Philippe. You’re a disgrace. You’re a danger to anyone you hunt with because you’re only skilled enough to protect yourself.” She could almost taste her bitterness as she spoke.
“Odette, please.”
“This is done. Whatever occurred betwixt us is over. I will never give my heart to another man who cannot protect those he cares for. It ends in death in this lifestyle.”
She knew she’d hurt him, and she didn’t care. He’d failed her father, failed her and failed the Alliance. She didn’t want him anywhere near her.
Odette looked at him one last time and felt all the hope she’d had from his rescue evaporate—just as her father’s life had. Shaking her head, she pulled away and walked to go join the others in the front of the ship. She couldn’t be alone with him.
Twenty-Two
Odette sat in her father’s chair. She ran a hand over the ornate wooden sides and laid her head against the cushioned back as tears slipped down her cheeks. She tucked her feet onto the seat and pulled her knees to her chest, trying to comfort herself.
They had been back at the guild for less than five minutes. A carriage had met them after they had safely landed in the same field they’d departed from and called for it. They had made a pact then. Her secret was hers to bear. They would follow suit, protect her should it be needed, and help her find blood if she could not on her own. The cravings had not diminished, and she had fed from everyone but Philippe on the weeklong journey home. They had not spoken since their row.
She had said some terribly cruel things to him. She could not regret them, though. If she did, it would be like admitting that she was the reason her father had died. She knew in her heart it was not Philippe’s fault, but she wasn’t ready to admit it aloud. It hadn’t made missing him when he was right next to her any easier. She’d wanted to forgive him for her father’s death, but again, it would mean she would need to apologize, and she wasn’t certain she could yet.
The weight of her time back in London crashed down upon her as she sat in her father’s chair. It was as if some part of him lingered in the office, holding her. It was overwhelming. The slow trickle of tears rapidly transformed into quick streams down her cheeks. Her father was gone, Kellan was a prisoner and Rafe had been unjustly rewarded for his help.
“Life is never fair. Or did you miss that as your mother plummeted to her death voluntarily, or when your husband’s cold dead body was in your arms?” Disgust laced her voice. Disgust with herself, disgust with her life and disgust with her husband for never taking what she did seriously enough as she’d asked him.
Her life had been a trail of death and deceit, and she wanted it to end.
A knock jolted her, and she almost tipped the large chair backwards. Fear raced through her, how would see explain her father’s absence? What would happen if she ignored it?
“Odette, I know you’re in there. I watched you get onto the lift, and I cannot fathom you went to the labs.” Philippe’s voice permeated the thick wooden door.
She didn’t know if she wanted to sigh in relief or shout at him for daring to come near here. She did neither. She let her feet slide off the chair and smack into the ground. She was halfway to the door when it swung open. For the first time in a week, her eyes locked onto Philippe’s deep colored ones.
Emotion rocked through her. Her anger grew, and yet, lust swirled in her. She hadn’t wanted Philippe to talk to her on the airship, but she had wanted him to come after her, and she only realized it once she faced him again. Her body heated, both at the promise in his eyes and the desire she was feeling.
They stood, him just outside the door, and her just inside, until she finally blinked and broke the connection they shared.
“Odette, I want to talk,” his voice was gravelly, hard to understand.
She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d cried again as well. She put her hand on the door and went to close it, stopping when he didn’t move in either direction.
“Are you coming in?” Annoyance filtered through her tone, and she didn’t care, even if seeing him come after her had her heart beating faster.
He said nothing, only stepped inside and let her softly close the door. When she turned, his face descended, and his lips immediately covered hers. His hands laced into her hair and tugged gently, moving her body closer to his as she took a step closer to him on her own.
Desire swirled in her stomach as his tongue slipped betwixt her lips and stroked hers. Her body wa
s slowly turning to liquid fire, and she felt her fangs slip down and throb slightly, mimicking the pulse of her desire. She wanted to hate him, to shove him back from the kiss, but she didn’t dare. Her hands wound around his neck, and she deepened the kiss, nipping his bottom lip.
Their kiss continued, alternating strokes of tongue and hands trailing over each other’s bodies for minutes. Her head was swirling with desire, and she could hardly remember that she was angry with him, or that she owed him an apology.
When she pulled back from the kiss, his hands didn’t lift from where they were on her body, caressing her breast through her corseted top and on her lower back. She was breathless, her chest rising and falling slowly as she tried to push the desire back. Her heart was pounding, and if they were going to do this, they both needed to make amends first.
“You said you wanted to talk. That was not talking.” Her voice held all the lust in it that she felt in her body, and she knew her cheeks redden.
He smirked and ran his hand up and down her back, sending tingles through her. “That had actually only been to get you to open the door. We don’t do talking very well if you think back to all our vocal interactions.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. He had a valid point. “I don’t want to cause another row, Philippe.” She paused and swallowed hard, trying to calm her rapid heart beat and give herself the push to apologize. “I was wrong. I didn’t want to face the reality of my father’s death. If I didn’t blame you, the person who was with him, it would mean I have to blame myself.” Tears slid down her face.
He quickly kissed her lips. “Shh, Odette, why don’t you let me go first? Just this once?”
His voice was soft and paired with the steady trail up and down her back, it caused her to slowly calm her emotions and lose to her urge to have him bed her.
“Ok, but make it quick, I had no intention of apologizing to you so soon. I wanted to hide a little longer.”
He chuckled. “You’re not entirely wrong. When your father was attacked, I could have moved faster. Would it have saved him? Most likely not, three claws had gone through the center of his chest.”
She gasped.
“Désolé. I had not meant to upset you again. My point is that you are right. I am a terrible hunter. I am so afraid of failing and losing a partner that, when I was faced with it, I froze. Your father’s death is no one’s fault, but it can be used to teach us both a lesson.”
The hurt in his voice touched the place in her heart that was still crying out in pain over her most recent loss. She was not certain how it could possibly have taught her anything, except the continual cruelty of demons, and the problem behind loving someone in her line of work.
“I’m not certain I follow.”
“It taught me I am flawed, that I am not the best hunter until I can adequately protect my partner. In hindsight, had I moved quicker, I might have been able to stop the Kappas as well. I froze momentarily that night, and it may have been the spiral that caused all of this. I will of course never know, but I want to make sure it never happens again. I will hunt with whomever I am assigned, and I will protect them as if they were you.”
The last part was whispered, and she felt her heart break wide open for the man pouring his heart out to her. “Just what did it teach me?” Her question was whispered betwixt them. She wanted nothing more than for him to stop the conversation and kiss her—to remind her of what loving someone was like, and how wonderful it could be.
“It taught you that you loved him. No matter what, you love him. Now you will work harder than ever to avenge him, and London will be safer for it.”
She pressed her lips together and squeezed her eyes shut as she shook her head. Tears fell some more, and she couldn’t find the words to say anything else, except what mattered.
“Philippe, I’m so sorry. This lifestyle is hell and far too short. I’ve lost everyone to demons. I won’t lose you to my personal demons. I love you.”
She didn’t let him say anything; she leaned up and kissed him again. Her kiss was different from his—it was hungry and demanding. Their mouths clashed together in their kiss as she took his shirt in her hands and spun them, tugging him towards her father’s chair.
She kicked the desk and cursed against his mouth. He laughed, and she ran her hand down his front, cupping his growing erection and squeezing lightly until Philippe moaned in pleasure.
His hands were all over her as they kissed and finally stopped on the front lace and clasps of her corset. Their kissing never stopped as his fingers nimbly undid both sets of fastening devices, and he shoved the corset to the floor. It fell with a thud, and she pressed against him, wanting to feel him as close as she could.
His hands played over her breasts, tweaking and rubbing her sensitive nipples, sending bolt after bolt of sensation through her. She shuddered as his mouth left hers and their bodies ground together. She'd pulled her hand from betwixt them and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, tugging it up over his head at the hem.
His tongue licked a circle around her swollen nipple, and she cried out as he gently grazed it. “Oh, Philippe. Yes.”
Her hands dug into his hair and fisted it as he continued to suckle her breast. His hands wrapped around her waist, and he picked her up and set her on one of the chairs across from the grand desk.
With a wet pop, his mouth left her teat, and he jerked her skirt off over her ankles in an instant. Her undergarments were next, and he made certain to drag one teasing finger over her core as he did.
“I’ve been dying to do this, Odette. This will come first.” He pushed her legs open with his thigh as he spoke.
The desire she heard in his voice made her shake with need. She watched as he undid his pants and stepped out of them and his undergarments. Her body was on edge, wanting whatever he had planned and trembling with every second he made her wait.
When his hair brushed the inside of her thigh, followed by a small nip from his teeth, she bucked so hard she almost hurt her arse. She moaned as she felt the flick of his tongue. It was a blast of motion as it went through the center of her wet folds and up to her tiny nub.
Her cry waivered as she trembled under the expertise of his tongue. He alternated betwixt thrusting it betwixt her folds and suckling her clit. Her head was fuzzy with desire. Every stroke of his tongue wrung pleasure from her body. She shifted and wiggled on the chair, trying to quicken the strokes of his tongue and the depth it sunk into her body.
“Uuuhh.” She’d lost the ability to speak under the perfection of his actions. When her hands curled around the chair, and her hips bucked, he removed his mouth.
Odette growled, and Philippe smirked. He slid his hands under her arse and lifted her as if she weighed nothing. In a motion, he sat down on the chair and pulled her body over his. She spread her legs in a quick movement, but he held her, angling her properly over his shaft before tugging her down.
Her body slid perfectly over his prick stretching to take him all in. She wasn’t certain which one of them moaned as she did so, but he grunted as his hands held firm on her hips. His strength made it impossible for her to begin to move up and down on his shaft, and she wanted too.
She ducked her head and kissed him. The action sent waves of pleasure through her, and she almost didn’t notice when Philippe used his grip on her hips to start moving her up and down his prick. His hip movements mimicked the slow pull he was using to guide her. She whimpered and screamed as his shaft rubbed against her swollen nub with every slide.
She thrust her hips and ground down on him, forcing the speed to adjust to her whims. Philippe hissed and began to match pace with her. Their kiss deepened and quickened at the same time.
She felt her body tightening, and her vision went white behind her closed eyes. Mewls of pleasure came from her, and she ground down onto Philippe faster and faster as she reached for her orgasm.
She felt his finger flick across her clit, and she exploded. Her downward motion stopped completely
as pleasure burst through every section of her body. Philippe’s mouth captured her scream, but she didn’t mind. His upward thrusts paired with how quickly he pulled her hips down onto his shaft, sent the final waves of pleasure trickling over her.
Odette felt it as he came, his whole body jerked and he growled into their kiss. Slowly, he stopped moving her hips and took his hands off her body completely. She pulled back from the kiss, trying to catch her breath and see straight once more.
They were both breathing heavy, and he felt as if she could slip off his lap at any moment.
“Je t'aime, Odette. Je t'aime.” Philippe whispered against her lips.
She smiled. “Je t’aime, Philippe.”
The accent sounded nowhere near as beautiful, and he laughed.
“Perhaps you should stick to English, ma belle falle.”
She laughed with him but hit his fully healed shoulder playfully. “Zip your lip, Mr. Clemis. You should speak kinder to the woman you will one day marry.”
His face grew serious, and he kissed her deeply. “Do you mean that?”
The intensity of the question rocked through her. “Yes, but not immediately. I would like to get to know you before we marry, but yes, Philippe, I want that.”
He smiled. “Come then. We have a meeting to get to and enough hanging in the balance that I don’t need you blaming me for being late. I promise you, though, one day, I am going to make love to you when we aren’t running from demons or late for something. I am going to keep you under the sheets until our bones are weary and our muscles seize from overuse.”
He kissed the tip of her ear, and she shuddered. His promise was enticing, but he was correct, the Council meeting could not wait. She lowered her face and kissed him once more before carefully lifting her body weight off his shaft and standing up.
“Then we had better get dressed.”
