by Holly Evans
We were soon hidden in one of the shadows. No words had been exchanged, why waste the breath? I’d forgotten how good it felt, to enjoy that passion, to have a man thrust into me. His lips grazed my neck and claimed my mouth, his hands roved over every inch of me as I moaned into his neck and dug my fingers into his hair. Nothing existed outside his hard body and intense pleasure he brought me. It was nothing like what it had been with Christian. It was raw passion and endless lust. I lost myself in it, keeping him deep within me until we were both thoroughly spent.
After a quiet moment to regain our breath, we ended with a tender kiss before we went our separate ways, not a single word said. It was better that way. I skirted around the dance-floor, walking past moaning couples to find the exit and return home feeling better than I had in a long time. My legs were a little wobbly, and a smile was fixed on my face. I giggled to myself and wondered why on Earth I’d denied myself for so long. Christian had been gone for over a year; I’d come to terms with that, but the fear of it happening again had become too entrenched. I scolded myself for the foolishness before making a note to thank Elise, although the innocent image of her had been thoroughly tarnished.
The moon was hidden behind a cloud that was barely visible between the tall buildings on either side of the narrow alleyway. I made my way over the shallow cobblestones and wondered how the local woman managed to wear six-inch stilettos every day without breaking their ankles. Footsteps came from the shadows to my right. I tensed, going for the blade that I wasn’t carrying.
A silky voice growled, “Am I really such a poor choice, Evelyn?”
Twenty-Seven
The high from my recent encounter dulled the irritation at his question and tone.
“What are you doing here, Lysander?” I said exasperatedly.
We walked together, him a little closer to my side than I’d have liked, but I allowed it.
“You’re my mistress, it’s my place to look after you. To protect you. To serve you.”
I sighed and looked around the small square we’d emerged in. The high heels were growing wearisome, and there was a bit of a walk yet. The night trams were a nightmare, and the cabs were extortionately priced.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said softly.
“What is it you want from me, Lysander?”
He paused for half a step, quickly recovering, but he said nothing until we finally reached an actual road.
“No one has asked me that before.”
The slight tremble in his voice gave away his pain and confusion. I asked the moon goddess what I’d done to deserve such a thing as him. I called for a cab while he gathered his thoughts. Emotions spun around my mind, the protective instincts that apparently came with the bond pushing me to comfort him, to explore his pain. My rational mind wanted to push him away and keep him at arm’s length, as a beast.
Just as the cab arrived, he finally said, “I want to feel happiness. I want you to care for me, as you do Quin, or Elise.”
He didn’t want much, then.
The cab ride was uncomfortable, but thankfully short. Quin was out when we got in; I couldn’t help but wonder if he was staying with Kadrix. I shook my head, he was likely off with some beautiful woman somewhere, unwinding from the exhausting day. My feet ached, but the flood of blood and bliss was worth it when I threw the heels off. I’d almost forgotten Lysander was there when he took my hand.
“Let me stay with you tonight. Please.”
I squeezed my eyes shut trying to ignore his pleading, his need for company. I sighed heavily and relented; the guilt would have eaten me alive.
“In your hound form. At the bottom of the bed.”
“Thank you.”
Relief flooded through me, I wasn’t sure if it was mine or his.
He was curled up at the bottom of my bed when I walked in. I should have phrased it better. I’d intended for him to sleep on the floor at the foot of my bed. His large form took up half the bed. Some part of me was happy to have him close, I ran my fingers over the small bumps and ridges of the engravings on the bracelet. Maybe the bond wasn’t such a horrendous thing. I’d never be lonely again.
Sleep came easily that night.
My phone ringtone cut through the pleasant dream I’d been enjoying. I scrambled over to the far side of my bed; my foot connected with something warm and firm. Whatever it was yelped and grumbled. I answered the phone as I started shaking off the remnants of sleep. Quin’s voice came through, panic edging his words. The hunters had found signs of a sacrifice. The hound had more help than we’d thought, the ball was rolling, and we weren’t ready to stop it.
I kicked Lysander again in my attempt to leap out of bed, he landed with a groan and a thud.
He shook himself off while I hunted around for some clean clothes. I'd forgotten he was there in my half-asleep state until I pulled off my top to change into a fresh shirt and jeans.
“I can't say I'd expected you to have butterfly tattoos."
I instinctively covered myself, despite having my back to him. “Out! Now! And get some suitable clothes on."
He padded past me in nothing more than a pair of boxers. I covered myself as best as I could with the shirt clutched to my chest and a pair of small pyjama shorts on. Thin white lines trailed along his strong well-muscled back. I wondered what those lines would feel like under my fingertips, how he would respond to my touch. I got dressed as quickly as I could and focused on the night I'd had with the stranger instead of the beast in my living room.
He'd managed to get some fresh clothing from somewhere; the new pair of pale blue jeans looked amazing on him.
“Are you always this pissy in the morning?” he asked with some amusement.
I shot him a dark look. "The other hunters have found signs of a sacrifice."
His eyes widened a little. We left the flat without anything more needing to be said. The sacrifice was in Strahov Park. The park covered such a large area it was easy to hide things, to get lost on the many winding trails that covered the hills and wove their way between the trees. That was part of why there were so many nymphs there.
“Why do you deal with the other hunters?" he asked as we waited for yet another tram.
The sun was just beginning to rise over the rooves, not that it could be seen properly through the slate grey clouds that were gathering. I leaned back against the cool stone wall and tried to think how to phrase my answer.
I couldn't lie to him, the words refused to form in my mouth, much to my frustration.
“I don't like being so honest so... vulnerable with you either,” he growled.
I glared at him. "Just how much do you get from this cursed fucking bond?"
The corner of his lip rose in a small idea of a smile. “Hints mostly, but your face and body language give away a lot."
That idea didn't sit well with me, the concept that people could read me so easily.
I finally said, “I deal with them because I have to. Because I promised Quin that I wouldn't shut myself off from the world. We can't afford to cut all ties, despite my desire for it. We need a support network."
His mouth tightened a little, but he let whatever thought irked him fade.
The tram showed up, he said, “Why don't you have a car, something more... convenient?"
“Because it's not more convenient," I said simply.
We sat on the uncomfortable seats, the tram almost empty.
“How can it be less convenient than this?" He gestured around the tram, with the uncomfortable seats and simple sliding windows, as it lurched forwards.
I looked out the window watching the city go by, and said absent-mindedly, “Because this city was not designed for cars, it's too old. There isn't enough room for them, and they're extortionately expensive. By the time you've found somewhere to park, you could have got there and finished if you were using public transport."
He seemed to chew over the idea while I watched the raindrops trickle down the plas
tic window. The city looked so beautiful in grey. A quiet sense of mourning settled over the buildings, their bright colours subdued. The usual hustle and bustle was dulled by the pattering of rain, a contemplative air filled the space. I loved the rain. I just hoped that the mourning wasn’t for something larger.
My phone vibrated when we got off the tram. Quin had texted asking where we were; Viktor was getting pissy.
I replied with, "Is he worried he'll melt in the rain?"
Lysander grinned as we walked into the park. "We should run, it'll get us there quicker."
His desire to run edged around the bond in the back of my mind. I was in no rush to ease Viktor's mind, but the happiness that came from the hound was too much. I gave a small nod and took off at a quick run up the hill. Exhilaration filled me; he was happiest when he was running. His long legs easily matched my pace. I pushed myself harder, my muscles beginning to burn. Still he matched me without thought. Soon we were racing, footsteps echoing through the trees, laughter filling my chest. I couldn't hold back the grin as my own endorphins mingled with his sheer glee at running. That was his freedom, his deepest, simplest pleasure, and I couldn't help but partake in it too.
Twenty-Eight
The hunters were huddled under a tree, muttering thick curses to each other. Quin stood slightly aside from the main group. He turned to face us when we showed up at a steady jog. I couldn't keep the grin from my face; it was inappropriate to the situation, but the pleasure was too much to hold back. Lysander stepped closer to me when the hunters gave us all dark looks.
“You think this is fun, little girl?" Viktor growled.
I held my held palm back towards Lysander telling him to stay put, it was my fight. I set my shoulders back and walked over to Viktor, who stepped out from under the tree to greet me. His lips were pulled back in a deep snarling expression, his hands balled into fists. He wanted a fight, and I was more than ready to give it to him. We went almost literally toe to toe. He gestured behind him at the blood on the ground, I held his eye-contact refusing to look away or flinch.
"Is this a game to you? You're pathetic,” he spat.
I laughed full-heartedly. "You have the nerve to call me pathetic? You can't even deal with a small group of playful fucking shades. I am tired of your shit. You keep calling me and Quin in to clean up your messes, and every time you whine and moan."
"You brought this down on us."
I punched him square in the jaw. It was time to make my point. I was not going to back down. They needed to either step up and fulfil their job, or fuck off and get out of our way. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His shoulders tensed, but his balance was thrown. He was already on tilt after a single punch, and he had the nerve to call himself a hunter. I blocked his attempt at a punch with my forearm and slammed the heel of my hand into the bridge of his nose. He stepped back, blood pouring down his face.
"I am tired of you fucking things up," I growled. I glared at the other two, who stood in shock. "This city is under threat of invasion from the infernal realm, and you can't even do something as simple as round up a few shades. I am fucking tired of you screwing things up and wasting our time. Either you find your balls and help us, or you get the fuck out of our way."
Viktor spat but refused to look me in the eye; the other two looked over to Quin who had his arms crossed.
I strode over to them. "No. Do not look at him for guidance. I am the one talking here, you answer to me."
Matyas squared up to me, but quickly backed down.
"We will help you,” Dimitri said.
Viktor growled something in Czech behind me; I ignored him. The other two relaxed a little. It was over.
I looked back to Lysander who was growling at Viktor. "Hound. What do we have here?"
He flinched at my tone and calling him hound, but I couldn't afford to look weak of front of the hunters. He walked over to the blood stained ground behind me.
Quin followed him and pointed at a roughly drawn symbol with a bloody finger bone next to it. "This means sun, doesn't it?" He pointed to the symbol on the far side of the circle opposite it. "And that's darkness?"
Lysander stopped dead and looked at him. "How do you know that? Only those with infernal blood can read this language naturally. Evelyn didn't tell me you'd studied this language..."
Quin shrugged. "It just makes sense in my mind."
I stepped up next to Quin. I couldn't allow that conversation to continue, it started too many questions.
"What does this ritual and mess mean?"
Lysander pulled himself up a little taller and said, “He tried to attempt the first ritual last night, but being the brainless pup that he is, he fucked it up. The symbol there," he pointed at Quin's feet, "is wrong. He also lost control of himself and ate the sacrifice rather than finishing the delicate ritual."
He gestured at small shards of bone and what appeared to be a lump of intestines that sat in the hollow at the base of a tree. “This is a mess, it did nothing more than kill a woman."
I breathed a small sigh of relief; one life lost was better than I'd anticipated.
The hunters grumbled behind me, but I ignored them. We needed to push Kadrix and get the tracker so that we could stop any more innocent lives from being lost. We'd got lucky that time, but there was no doubting that the hound would try again soon. Quin and Lysander exchanged looks while Quin tried to subtly gesture at various markings on the ground. The blood mingled with the earth, forming sharp markings that surrounded the circle. Small parts of the woman remained scattered about the circle, not enough to identify it as a human, let alone who.
I looked pointedly at the hunters. "Clear this mess up before the humans stumble across it."
Viktor glared at me. I clenched my fists, but he looked away. They were close on useless; I was regretting my promise to Quin to try and deal with more people.
A sliver of guilt formed in my stomach as I said, "Hound, come."
The rough tone and blunt manner didn't sit right in my mouth. He had already become more than a beast to me, and I hated it. Yet there was nothing to be done about it, and appearances had to be maintained either way. Lysander came and stood at my side as I gave the bloody mess one last look. I hoped that the woman had died quickly. Her life had come to nothing. I bowed my head a little and asked the moon goddess to watch over her spirit in the beyond. It was becoming more natural to lean on the goddess. A maelstrom started forming in my mind as we made our way back to the road at a quick pace. Everything was changing, and I had no control over it; it was unpleasant. The sensation of losing who I was, of no longer being myself, invaded my thoughts. There were too many questions, too much chaos. I needed some peace and order. I needed to kill the other hound.
Twenty-Nine
Lysander kept fidgeting and shifting his weight. I ground my teeth and glared at him; he was drawing attention to himself. Quin wasn't helping things. His sombre expression weighed on me. He was such a happy soul; it was rare not to see a smile on his face. I hated the idea of something weighing on him. The people parted for us without word or argument when we got off the tram; our mood was clearly written all over us. Not a word had been said. None of us dared mention what we'd witnessed in public. The questions bubbled up in my mind, but the one that wouldn't let go was how on Earth Quin could read those infernal symbols. It took years, or more likely decades to be able to read that language with any proficiency, and it was limited to only the most committed witches and necromancers, although I had no doubt that a few fae had learnt it as well.
A collective sigh of relief left us when we stepped into the passageway down to Kadrix's lab. We were free to speak freely. Quin forged ahead and went straight to Kadrix, his shoulders tighter than usual and his gait more stilted. I vowed to help him, to remove the weight that he carried. I'd sworn to protect him. Lysander's hand brushed over my lower back, drawing me from my dark thoughts. I subconsciously stepped sideways away from him. Part of me craved contact w
ith him, but I wasn't going to let it win any time soon.
I cut Quin off before he could start a recounting of what had happened. “How is the tracker?"
Kadrix tore his eyes from Quin, his hand stopped in mid-air between him and Quin's cheek.
The elf pursed his lips and glared at me. “It will be done by sunset."
His voice was icy cold, but I shrugged it off.
“Did you know that Quin can read the infernal language?" I demanded.
I couldn't afford to ignore the fact there were likely things the elf knew about my twin that I didn't.
His eyes flickered to Quin as his lips pursed and he looked away. “I did not."
Quin made a soft growling noise and dragged his fingers through his hair. I needed to take control of the situation.
Kadrix sniffed and said, “His alchemy has come on leaps and bounds since the ritual as well. It seems you've both gained a little something... infernal."
His eyes lingered on Lysander who bared his teeth at him.
My heart felt heavy; Quin couldn't have been tainted. We'd been so careful, what did it all mean? Kadrix's grin was wicked.
“Only those with demon blood can bond to a hound, or read that language,” he said with some glee.
“Your books are clearly missing some key information, elf. Our parents were both human hunters," I snapped back.
His attention returned to Quin, he brushed his thumb over Quin's cheekbone, a gesture that I couldn't help but feel a little jealous over.
I tore my eyes away and said quietly to Lysander, “I'm sorry for my manner, in the park. It had to be done."
The corner of the hound's mouth twitched with a smile that I felt in the back of my mind.
“When you're quite finished examining Quin, we need that tracker. One woman has already lost her life to the hound,” I snarled at Kadrix, but refused to meet his eye.
