by Holly Evans
Thirty-Two
Quin gave me an amused look when Lysander calmly strode into my bedroom. I sighed heavily but let it slide; what was done was done. The hound sat at the end of my bed in nothing more than his boxers. He'd heaped his clothes in the far corner next to my wardrobe.
"I see you're making yourself at home," I said while trying to get changed without seeming too self-conscious.
A shiver ran up my spine when he traced his finger up over the butterflies that had been tattooed there. Against my better judgement, I allowed him the contact.
"It's a beautiful tattoo."
His breath was warm against my neck. His scent surrounded me, bringing me to start leaning back against his body.
I snapped myself out of it and said, "Behave yourself."
His laugh held a growling edge that made a thrill form in the pit of my stomach. He was going to be the end of me. I pulled on an over-sized T-shirt to cover my body from his gaze, and hands. When I turned around to face my bed he was sprawled out over the bottom half, the soft light of the bedside lamp caused shadows to pool in the soft line of his toned torso. My eyes drifted lower. I forced myself to look back into his dancing blue eyes, avoiding the amused smirk that sat on his lips.
"This is my bed; I would like to sleep comfortably in it."
His mouth parted just a little, his eyes glittered when he said, "Would you, really?"
The lie, the polite fiction, refused to form in my mouth. The words crumbled and shattered every time I tried to wrap my tongue around them; I had no choice but to tell him the truth, and I hated him for it.
"No. Now, either take on your hound form and curl up small, or get on the floor."
"Yes, mistress,” he said with a soft purring growl that had an undesirable effect on my body. He was driving me mad.
My dreams were filled with Lysander and the other hound. Blood red skies crashed down around us, the other hound's harsh, barking laugh echoed throughout the city before demons pranced along the streets. I woke with a start. Something warm was pressed against me, wrapped around me. I started to panic before I realised it was Lysander in his hound form. He remained pressed against my body, nothing but the thin blankets between us.
His voice formed in my mind. "You were having nightmares, I was protecting you."
His matter-of-fact tone irked me, but less so than my own desire for his sultry growls.
I threw the blankets off and dragged on some fresh clothes.
"You're welcome,” he huffed.
Quin emerged from his room a few minutes later. I stood in front of the windows looking out over the city; a dull fog crawled along the road. There was no denying that it was unnatural; the faint red hue removed any doubt of that. No one had prepared us for this, we were supposed to keep rogue lycans in line, to stop the redcaps from picking off tourists. We weren't equipped to stop hellmouths’ being opened.
Quin put his arm around my shoulders. "Don't worry, Evie, we'll save the city."
I frowned and said, "How can you be so sure?"
He flashed me a grin. "Because we're the Hawke twins, that and we have some great friends."
I collected my thoughts and mentally prepared myself for the day. We had no choice but to succeed. Quin made coffee and started on breakfast while I checked my phone, hoping for word from Elise. Nothing. Lysander had gotten dressed and sat on the floor near me.
"Can you track the other hound?" I said, grasping onto straws.
"No."
The edge to his voice fuelled my irritation; he was a part of this. A less unpleasant part, but part of it nonetheless.
Quin handed me a cup of steaming coffee and some French toast. "We'll go out into the city and speak to some people, someone has to have some more information."
I bit into the toast. It felt foolish. It felt weak, but what choice did we have?
He said over his shoulder, "It'll give you and Lysander some time to bond."
I glared daggers at his back. Lysander, however, laughed; his pleasure rippled through me and eased my tension. Still I cursed him.
"Why don't you check on the power points of the city and I’ll speak to people?" Quin said around his toast.
I smirked at him. "Do you not think I can be trusted to speak to people, dear brother?"
He grinned at me. "Well, you're hardly a people person, Evie."
I pouted. "I don't know what you mean..."
The rest of breakfast rushed by, everyone eager to get out into the city and find the hound. Lysander had nothing of use to say about where he might be. He resorted to growled monosyllabic answers. We decided to head down to the river. Water was a key part of a lot of magic.
The hound's tension was eating at me until he finally snapped, "I want to help. You think I enjoy the prospect of losing my freedom? Of suffering the wrath of my previous master?"
I allowed him to continue on.
"I feel just as useless as you, mistress."
He shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders.
"What are we looking for, exactly?" I asked.
"Blood, chaos, and fire," he grumbled.
"And you can't track him why?"
He growled, "Because my master has given him something to hide him from me."
"Ex-master," I corrected him.
He looked back at me, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards in amusement. The moment was broken when I looked down at the usually quiet, dark brown river. It was blood red, and a woman was knelt on the concrete path weeping piteously. We were in deeper shit than I'd hoped.
Thirty-Three
The river of blood was only the beginning; the witches had been busy. We had tried to calm the woman, but she’d proven to be inconsolable. We stopped wasting our time and continued on to see what other chaos had been unleashed on the city. Thick shadows hung around the alleyways, pitch black and all-consuming; the details of the black and white stones vanished. That wasn't the only thing that vanished. Lysander and I stopped dead in our tracks when we saw a young couple disappear into the shadows. At first it seemed to be a trick of the light, but they didn't emerge again. We cautiously approached. The temperature plummeted when we reached the edge of the darkness. There was something about it that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I prodded the edge with the toe of my boot. Lysander dragged me away when a tendril reached out and slipped along the black leather.
Screams cut through the air near one of the many bridges; that particular one stood firmly across the bloody water and rooted itself on one of the islands. We ran across the bridge and found two older women trembling under a tree. Each of them was covered in bright pink burns, edged with pale yellow and off-white. They huddled close to each other and eyed the sunlight as if it was going to eat them alive. We approached slowly, I couldn't help wondering if it was some trick, a mirage or illusion to pull me into the darkness. We slipped around the shade of the tree remaining in the light, the woman gasped and shouted at us in Czech. It took a moment to translate, to understand that she was shouting about the light burning. I glanced back at Lysander, who was looking around for a trap.
I remained in the light and said in slow Czech, "The light burned you?"
She nodded enthusiastically and said between sobs, "Yes, the light. It burned."
She held out her pink arm as an example. I looked at Lysander once more, looking for answers. He gave a small shrug. There was nothing we could do for them.
The city was in chaos, and there was no sign of the hound that we could find. Dark whispers emerged from doorways, quiet giggles from invisible children tickled my ears and begged for me to slip away down narrow lanes. Shadows and foggy forms trailed behind people, stalking them before they devoured them. Nowhere was safe. We couldn't help the people, as we didn't know what was going to affect them. Some couldn't go in the light, others couldn't go near the shadows. Terror was rippling through the city; the fear was almost palpable. The hound was succeeding, and there wasn't a damn
thing we could do about it.
We leaned against the large statue with the two angels at Palackého Náměstí while I rang Quin.
"The city is in bedlam, I need contacts. Give me the name and address of a witch that I can throttle some information out of."
He sighed softly. "Throttling isn't going to get you very far, Evie." I waited for him to say something more useful. "No one will speak to you, not after you killed Serena."
"So what am I supposed to fucking do?"
"Keep looking." His calm tone soothed me a little. It made me hope he had a better plan.
"This is a big city, Quin... we can go a year without bumping into anyone we know."
Resignation filled his voice. "I understand that, but I have nothing else for you. The witches won't talk. Not to you."
"Do you at least have some direction for us to search in?"
"Sorry, Evie. I have to go."
The city, my city, was crumbling around me, and I was supposed to wander around and hope I bumped into the hound who caused it all?
Lysander paced in front of me. "He won't do any rituals during daylight. He needs the darkness and moon. He'll be in hiding, likely with the witches."
I ground my teeth together. "So, let's go and throttle some witches."
He grinned at me. Quin's voice rang in the back of my mind, but I wasn't about to wander idly around the city and hope while he did something useful.
Thirty-Four
There was one coven at the top of my list when it came to throttling for information, and that was the one responsible for kidnapping Quin. They already feared me, and I knew that they had connections to something bigger. I'd put off approaching them before because they were neophytes and had no real idea what they were doing. They were the closest thing I had to something; I was getting desperate, and starting there was better than nothing.
Lysander remained close to me; his muscles were tightly coiled, ready to fight at the slightest notice. I was glad of it, of his support. There was no telling what was going to jump out and try to eat us. The tram felt bizarre, being entirely empty during the day, not that I blamed people for remaining home given the experiences of the day. We got off the tram and looked up and down the road for anything suspicious. The odd little excuse for a park sat on the opposite side of the road. Scrubby grass sat between the old tarmac paths that wove back and forth down the steep hill, culminating in a short set of stone steps. The cake shop in front of the tram stop was shuttered and closed for the day. Even the breeze refused to budge. It was as though the street were paused, holding its breath, waiting.
I had no such patience.
We crossed the road and approached the roughly built stone wall that formed the perimeter of a small park that stretched up the side of a steep hill. Mature trees stood proudly just above the wall, marking the edge of the grassy area. My fingers ran over the comforting coolness of my blades. Nothing had jumped out at us by the time we reached the top of the steps, but still we remained alert and tense. We were halfway through the park when it finally happened. An almighty banshee screech cut through the air. I felt as though my ears were going to explode. The sharp pain pierced my skull and threaded its way into my brain. Lysander howled and fell to his knees, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands clutched to his ears. When the noise faded, we were surrounded.
Shadows, inky black and yet somehow flickering and burning like fire, were everywhere. They were human and yet entirely not, the silhouettes not quite right and the features shifting and shimmering, my eyes unable to settle on a single detail. An icy cold pain shot through my stomach. One of them was directly behind me. My breath caught in my chest as it withdrew the blade, if you could call it such, from my abdomen. I fought to expand my ribs and gasped for air. The sensation was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I didn't know what they were or what I was supposed to do with them. I followed my instincts. My blades were in my hands before I'd even solidified the decision in my mind. I spun around and slashed at the empty space where the creature had been only seconds before.
They shimmered in and out of existence, taunting us. Lysander had managed to stand after a long minute knelt on the floor next to me; I stood over him, guarding him. Ice cold cut through my leather jacket sending trails of pain down my skin, my muscles ached and screamed, but I would not be beaten. The sun managed to creep out from behind the thick clouds, the shadows warbled and screeched. Small holes formed in them, and I had an opportunity. I lunged and slashed at the closest, my blade sliding through where its throat would have been. A hole formed around the silver of my blade and stayed there. The shadow faded and disintegrated before me. A glance upwards told me that the sun wouldn't be with us for long.
I was slow, exhausted, but determined. Lysander lashed out, snarled, and clawed at everything that got within reach. His usual elegant style had been replaced with desperation and aggression. His own pain laced mine, adding another layer of blurring to my thoughts and instincts. The shadows were slower, their flickering became more solidified. We hacked them into small pieces, their cold touch more bearable than it had been. When the sun slipped away once more, there was only one of the shadows left. Its face split open to show sharp fangs, tinged with red.
It flew at me, all pretence of human form long since gone. It was a wraith, a black ghost of a figure, with a mouth to make a shark envious. I stood strong waiting for my moment, any energy to duck and dodge around it had faded. I had one good strike left in me. The pain was blunting my thoughts and clouding my hopes. Lysander stood wobbly at my side, blood staining his shirt, his eyes dulled. The wraith uttered an unearthly scream and dove straight at us, its teeth on course for my throat. Lysander leapt on it, somehow managing to drive it back. I followed suit and plunged my blades into its abdomen, tearing it open. Lysander’s claws shredded its chest. Together we tore it apart.
We stood panting in the empty park. The sun came out over head, a bird started singing, all was right with the world again. For a fleeting moment at least.
Lysander wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "I'm taking you home."
I didn't have it in me to argue with him.
Thirty-Five
I couldn't get warm. Chills wracked my body; agonising muscle spasms ran down my back while my teeth chattered. It wasn't that cold outside. It must have been the wraiths' attacks. Lysander held me close, his warmth radiated from him and took the edge off the coldness, but it wasn't enough. My eyelids felt heavy, they tugged downwards with the promise of a warm relaxing sleep.
Lysander kept nudging me and bringing me back into a state of half-wakefulness. "Give me your phone, Evelyn, I'm not equipped to help you with this."
I frowned and tried to pull myself back to full consciousness. My hands refused to react properly to my commands.
I mumbled, "Left pocket."
His hand slid down over my hip; a small smile slipped across my lips as warming thoughts filled my mind. His hot breath trickled down my neck as he leant over me, his hand squeezing into the tight pocket of my jeans to retrieve the phone. A flicker of disappointment trembled deep within my mind when he moved away from me. His voice sounded distant and slightly distorted. Sleep was calling to me. A little nap would do me some good, it would allow me to heal.
I woke on Elise's sofa surrounded by candles with Lysander knelt next to me, my hand securely within his. The roughness of his skin offered an odd comfort, something I wanted to savour.
"Evelyn. Oh, Evelyn, why must you insist on getting yourself into such trouble?"
I frowned, trying to pinpoint the voice. Elise's face swam into sight hovering over me. "You've been unconscious for hours, we were worried about you. Lysander saved you."
I squeezed his hand without thinking. Kadrix's voice came from somewhere behind me. "It was really quite fascinating, seeing the bond in action like that. You must let me investigate your hound a little more thoroughly. That fire of his has far more uses than I'd originally thought."
M
y throat was dry and scratchy.
I managed to say, "Mine."
The warmth of Lysander's happiness filled me, a comforting strength that formed in my heart and slowly spread outwards, bringing me gently to full consciousness. It seemed the hound had some uses after all.
"Evie, we were worried about you. What were you thinking?" Quin asked.
I tried to sit up and said to Quin, "I was thinking I could save the city rather than sitting on my ass waiting for the hound to come to me."
A hand held me down gently but firmly. I lay back down on the sofa and waited for everything to clear and come fully into focus.
Kadrix said, "You really should have captured at least a piece of one of those wraiths, they're incredibly rare and would be very useful. I'd have paid you fairly for it, of course."
I grunted in response, the damn elf was always thinking about his alchemy and money. Things weren’t entirely clear. The thoughts trickling in my mind may not even have been mine.
I reached out and traced Lysander's jawline. "Thank you."
The warmth of his happiness filled me once more. I was finally beginning to feel like myself again. This time, Lysander allowed me to sit up.
Quin went to sit next to me, but Elise shooed him out of the way. "You can't rush into these things, Evie, you should know better by now."
I gave her a small smile. "I'm a month older than you, and yet you sound like my mother."
"You make me worry like I'm your mother!" she scolded.
"If you've quite finished, we have serious business to attend to," Kadrix huffed.
I gave him an impolite hand gesture. Lysander didn't react when the small curse hit the back of my head. Bloody elf.
