Indebted

by Amy A. Bartol

  “Casimir wants ye, but he is willing ta see ye dead if he cannot control ye. I have na seen dem so concerned about anyting like dey are wi’ ye,” Brennus says, and his words chill me. I take another large gulp of my drink, trying to get rid of the goose bumps that are running the length of my body again. “When he fails wi’ his plan to kidnap ye, den whah will he do?” Brennus asks me.

  I look over at him, feeling surprise that he asked me that question.

  Brennus smiles encouragingly. “Ye have ta keep looking ahead—keep anticipating da future moves. Staying ahead of yer enemy is how ye win.”

  “Uh, okay,” I reply, thinking. “Well, if I’m Casimir, I have been sitting in a stinky hole, waiting for someone to deliver that irritating angel to me and when she doesn’t show, I come out of my hole…like an angry wasp, looking to bust some heads? Toting my army with me?” I ask them, looking at all of their faces.

  The fellas all start laughing again. “Maybe,” Brennus says, grinning. “Anyone else have any ideas?”

  Finn leans forward in his chair. “He tries again, but dis time, he comes ta Genevieve. He is staying away from Sheol for now—letting da stink wear off and keeping a low profile from the divine Powers who would like ta tear him apart. He wants ta come ta her as a friend, a savior. He will protect her from da bad Gancanagh—da ones dat tried to kill her, hoping she doesn’t know he is da one who sent da Ifrit,” Finn says, while watching me.

  “I’ve got some candy for you, little girl?” I ask Finn, understanding what he is teaching me.

  Finn’s eyebrow rises cunningly. “Or, I’m really na a wolf, little girl, jus disregard dese fangs, would yous?” Finn replies wi’ a wink.

  “Or he starts recruiting again,” Declan counters, “but dis time from da outside. He doesn’t want ta bring his army—dere’s too much risk dat da divine angels will get wind o’ it and be dere ta do deir jobs. But if he uses non-angels, dat may buy him some time—where da Divine are concerned. Dey are na so concerned about whah, say, da trolls are doing. It could stir dem up, but na like da Fallen amassing.”

  “Come on! Trolls!” I exclaim, irritated. “The ones that smell like arse and have really sharp teeth that will tear you apart if you get too close to them?” I ask, looking at Eion.

  “Dey do na have purple hair either,” Eion says, pointing at me. “Dey are usually bald or dey have jus little tufts of hair comin’ out of dere ears.”

  “Gross,” I mutter.

  “And troll breath…” Eion goes on before I hold up my hand.

  “I get it,” I say exasperatedly. “What kills a troll?”

  “Gula,” they all say in unison.

  “Gluttony?” I ask, translating the Latin they spoke.

  I must look confused because Finn says, “It depends on da troll. Ye have ta find out whah dey canna resist, and den ye give dem more of it den dey can possibly handle.”

  Still confused, I look at Brennus and his face breaks into a sexy smile. “If a troll canna resist a beer, ye give him a tousand of dem. He will drink himself ta death in a matter of hours,” Brennus explains. “If dat does na work, den ye cut his head off. Fire is no good. Dey have skin more resistant den ours ta it.”

  “Huh,” I say, trying to process this new information.

  “Steps?” Brennus asks the group.

  “Watch for da disgruntled, some of da new fellas—da ones who have da crap jobs,” Lachlan chimes in. “Ye smell anyone dat smells foul, like dey have been talkin’ ta da Sheol Shiners, ye pound him ‘til he squeals.”

  “The Sheol Shiners?” I ask Lachlan.

  “Da pretty boys from Hell,” he smiles at me, speaking of the fallen Seraphim.

  “What defeats the Sheol Shiners?” I ask him, seeing him tilt his head, considering my question.

  “Superbia,” Lachlan replies, meaning pride.

  “Vanitas,” Faolan adds, meaning vanity.

  “Invidia,” Declan says, meaning envy.

  “Iram,” Eion chimes in, meaning wrath.

  “Avaritiae,” Finn says, meaning avarice.

  “Libidinem,” Brennus says, meaning lust.

  “What defeats me?” I whisper to Brennus.

  “Tristitiae,” Brennus softly utters the word that means “sorrow.” “Especially when ’tis da sorrow or suffering of someone dat ye love.”

  My throat tightens because I know that he is right. Gently, he places his hand over mine on the table. A sad smile comes to my lips when I say, “You have a lot to teach me.”

  “Dat I do,” Brennus agrees, lifting my hand to his lips and kissing it. “Ye need me, whether ye tink ye do or na.”

  “Steps,” I say, reminding him that we have issues to discuss.

  Brennus’ eyes soften in amusement. “Finn, make sure we know who Casimir plans ta cultivate as outside allies. Send da word out dat we are in da business of making dem jus as happy as da Seraphim are ta remain loyal ta us—more willing.” Brennus instructs.

  To me, he says, “Information is da key. We try ta be respectful ta da other beings out dere, insomuch as we can be respectful, so dey tend ta reciprocate, insomuch as dey can reciprocate. Most demons and lower beings are tired of da Seraphim. It makes it easier.”

  “I think that is called the ‘Golden Rule,’ Brennus. ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,’” I say with a crooked smile.

  Faolan looks at me strangely, asking, “Dat’s a rule? Den whah’s da ‘Silver Rule?’”

  Before I can answer, Eion chimes in, “Da ‘Silver Rule’ must be whah ye do when the ‘Golden Rule’ does na work. It must be, ‘Kill all da others before dey kill all of yous.’”

  Lachlan smiles at me and says, “Da ‘Golden Rule’ should really be, ‘Ye will bleed if ye do na do whah I’m telling ye.’”

  I roll my eyes at them and Brennus smiles at me possessively. “We need ta tighten da security. We lock da corridors from now on. Only fellas dat have business in da North or West Towers are ta be dere. Post only well-trusted fellas at da doors, but do na trust dem either,” Brennus orders Declan.

  “Do ye want more personal security for da queen?” Declan asks Brennus.

  “NO!” I respond, looking from Declan to Brennus. “Four is enough. I’m used to you guys. I don’t want more fellas staring at me. Can’t we just get cameras on the door or something?” I ask and they laugh.

  “Anyone can get a feed on da cameras. Even closed-circuit can be breeched and den dey know everyting,” Brennus says. “We will need ta question everyone dat comes near ye for a while. Do na assume dat dey have business dere. Challenge dem ta prove why dey are dere.”

  “I think it’s time you showed me how to use that axe you gave me, Brennus,” I say quietly. “How about joining us in the war room when you’re free?” I ask him, looking up from my clenched hands.

  “’Tis na a bad idea, mo chroí,” he says, covering my hands with his large, cool one. “We will begin tomorrow. We will see ta it.”

  I nod as the meeting adjourns.

  Just after nightfall, I crawl into bed, hugging the pillow tight to me. As I lie there, I try to will myself to sleep immediately, so that I won’t think about all the scary things I learned today. I don’t want to analyze my future because it’s grim. The possibilities of winding up steeped in evil are endless. I have to prepare myself for the worst-case scenario. I have to be prepared for Casimir getting me. I need to decide now if I allow that to happen, or if I take option B, like I chose in the caves in Houghton. I can’t let Brennus turn me and I can’t let Casimir have my soul for eternity.

  My life is so out of control now. If I try to leave my new home, I put everyone I love at risk again—Casimir will try to figure out a way to kidnap or kill me. I have managed to remain cool all day, not letting anyone around me see how afraid I am. It’s been like trying to tread water while holding a brick in my hands.

  My heart is begging me to try to find a way out of this place. I need Reed and I need Russell, probably more than they
need me. But, there is something so right about letting the Fallen and the Gancanagh battle each other, while keeping my angels safe. I’m just afraid that I will lose Reed and Russell forever if I get caught in the middle of it.

  Maybe that’s a good thing, my mind whispers to me. Maybe they are better off without you. Tears blind me, so I close my eyes and let them leak from beneath my lashes. Is there really any question that they would be safer without me? I think.

  Exhaustion finally makes me sleep and I am having the best dream about Reed when I begin to wake up from it. As I try desperately to cling to the dream, I feel fluttering butterflies in my stomach, like he is here with me and it’s the sweetest torture. Refusing to open my eyes, fearing that it will be gone the moment I do, I breathe in deeply, smelling his sexy scent that causes a primal ache to spread throughout my body. I become aware of warm arms around my waist, pressing me back into an equally warm chest, my heartbeat races within me.

  I open my eyes to the predawn light of the room and I glance behind me, seeing Reed holding me tenderly in his arms. There is a storm of emotion in his dark green eyes, but I immediately have to turn away, not because I want to, but because some force within me is making me. It’s the magical contract.

  Reed is here!

  He is so close to me and all of my senses are screaming out to touch him, to taste him, to tell him that I want him—I need him—I crave him—that I’m sorry for what I have done to him, but I can’t move now. I can’t turn to him or speak to him. It’s like I have no free will. I am a prisoner within my own body. A thousand thoughts pulse in my head, but there is nothing I can do. My jaw is clenched tight, my throat is taut, and I can only breath in shallow breaths now.

  “Evie, love, I know that you can’t speak to me—it’s part of the deal that you made to save Russell,” Reed breathes quickly in my ear, while I remain still, an unwilling statue of apparent indifference to the beautiful creature next to me. “That does not mean that I cannot speak to you,” he says in his sexiest voice.

  I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of his arms around me, the scent of his skin pressing to mine.

  He nuzzles my neck. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to find you,” he says, while running his lips softly over my skin.

  An ache of longing breaks out inside of me, wanting to kiss him back, but I can’t.

  “The temptation to pick you up right now and carry you away with me is nearly overwhelming,” Reed says with torment in his voice. “If I take you from here, you will be trapped inside yourself…you would remain like this, not eating or sleeping until you were returned to him or we found a way to break the contract…or you died,” Reed explains. “It’s too great a risk, without a sure means of breaking the contract.”

  His fingers smooth my hair back from my neck, trailing a line down it and over my shoulder, to pass slowly down my arm, making me shiver.

  “I have missed you—every moment that you have been here has been…I need you, Evie,” he says in a near whisper, kissing the curve of my shoulder.

  A tear escapes my lashes to run down my cheek.

  “Don’t cry,” he breathes, hugging me tight, while wiping the tear gently from my cheek with the back of his hand. “I will find a way to get you out of this. Trust me, I will. You are mine and I will never give up. I promise you.”

  I want to tell him that I believe him—that I trust him. I want him more than I have ever wanted anything. Just hearing his voice makes me want to fight harder for him.

  “I think that I have come up with a way for you to communicate with us. This contract will make it seem as if you are locked inside yourself when I am near, but I think that Russell can speak to you, from within you. I will ask him to try. He has been working with Phaedrus. He can control his clones now. He will send one to you soon. If he can step into you, maybe the two of you can speak from within you, where they cannot stop you. Tell us your plans, what you have seen, so that we can help,” he says, holding me close, while stroking his hand down my side hypnotically.

  Hope kindles in me at his words. He knows about my contract—how it works. He knows that I’m not being cold to him—that I can’t respond no matter how desperate I am to react to his touch.

  “Keep playing along, Evie. I know that you have probably figured out that we only have a few months left before Brennus has to find another way to keep you with him,” Reed says.

  Inside, I rejoice that he understands that, too. He is aware that Brennus has no intention of ever letting me go.

  “Make him believe that he is becoming what you want. What you desire. Lull him into complacency. Make him believe that you are outgrowing me. Do whatever you have to do to survive. Anything, so that he doesn’t try to turn you,” Reed advises me in a whisper.

  Holding me in his arms, his exquisite body is spooning mine, as he inhales the scent of my hair. I want to lie here forever with him, just the two of us.

  “I’m sorry that I was not there when everything was falling apart,” he whispers and I hear pain in his tone as he speaks of Valentine. “I was too late…I won’t be too late again,” he promises, like he is choking on the words. “Hold on to the string, love, until the current shifts and we can be together again.” His words, spoken so urgently, bring tears to my eyes again.

  My eyes widen as I hear footsteps coming down the hall. I want to scream to him that he has to go. He has to leave before one of the fellas finds him here and touches him.

  REED, RUN! My brain screams in panic, but I can’t make a sound, I can’t move to even tell him with my eyes.

  “This is for you,” he says against my ear as he presses a scrap of paper under one of the feathers of my wing, “for when it becomes hard to breathe.”

  The door of my sitting room opens and someone enters the outer room, turning towards my bedroom door. Reed rises quickly from my bed, uncapping a bottle of perfume; he splashes some on me and on the bed before smashing the bottle on the floor and diving to the open window. Instantly, I turn towards the window, seeing that he is gone as the door of my room opens and Brennus steps in.

  “Whah happened?” he asks suspiciously, sniffing the air. Seeing the broken perfume bottle on the floor, he asks, “Mo chroí?”

  I don’t answer him; I just stare at him, hoping that he won’t detect Reed’s scent. I have to give my angel time to get away. Pulling the blanket up to my chest, I look grimly at Brennus who is frowning at me.

  “Are ye crying?” he asks me as his eyes soften with concern. Brennus walks to my side and sits in the exact place where Reed had been just seconds ago. My heart palpitates in my chest as fear for Reed makes me ill.

  “Whah’s wrong, ’tis jus perfume. Ye can have another one,” Brennus says tenderly, reaching over to cup my cheek.

  “I…” I say, before breaking into a sob. Brennus pulls me into his cold chest, letting me cry.

  “Are ye afraid?” he asks, and I nod because I am.

  Seeing Reed again has left me feeling like I can’t last one more second without him. The ache inside of me feels like it will soon get so bad that there will be no point in surviving. It’s like he just reminded me why I’m alive. It’s to be with him and now that I can’t do that I feel crushed.

  “I will protect ye. Casimir will na have ye. Ye do na have ta be afraid,” he says, rubbing my back to comfort me.

  I sniff, trying to stop crying. Brennus doesn’t know that Reed was here. He can’t smell him.

  That is what the perfume was for, to cover the scent of him. I will have to begin carrying some around. If Reed is planning to have Russell send me a clone, I will have to mask the scent of it. It will smell just like Russell does, lingering in the air for them to detect.

  “I’m all right, Brenn,” I say, trying to pull myself together. “I’ll be fine…I’m going to take a shower now.”

  “I’ll order ye some coffee. Would ye like dat?” he asks.

  “Mmmm,” I nod with a watery smile.

  I walk to the doo
r of the bathroom and I pull it closed behind me. As I lean against it, I listen for sounds in my room, but I hear nothing. After I turn the shower on, I move to the vanity. I pull the scrap of paper from beneath the feather of my wing where Reed had placed it, I unfold it, reading the message written on it in Reed’s beautiful script.

  It’s the quote from Shakespeare: Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love…I love thee best, O most best, believe it.

  Reed loves me…he still loves me, my mind whispers like a prayer. I have tried for the last two months not to let fear and doubt overwhelm me. But, having proof that Reed still loves me, even after I shut him out, is making tears spill from my eyes again. I hide the paper under one of the perfume bottles on the vanity before I enter the shower and let the water wash away my tears.

  Reed came here to fight for me. He wants me to continue to fight for us, so that I won’t give up and just let them make me an undead creature. He could’ve just let Russell come here and speak to me, but he didn’t. He risked everything to tell me himself. He entered the lair of hundreds of killers to show me what I mean to him. He’s…insane. The most perfectly insane creature ever created…and he’s still mine.

  But for now, I can’t have Reed. He wants me to lull Brennus into complacency so that he can find a way to get me out of here. I will have to try to do that. I have to use the weapons I have, thinking about what Buns taught me about feminine mystique. I am going to make it really hard for him to kill me—to let any piece of me get away from him.

  At the same time, I have to learn how to run with the darker side of this world. To think like them—to kill like them. If I had remained with Reed, I would have allowed him to take care of me. I would have let him kill for me—protect me. Now, I have to learn how to kill…and mean it. Brennus may be the best one to teach me how to do that, since he seems to be so good at it.

  I dry myself off quickly, and then I pull the piece of paper from beneath the perfume bottle. I tuck it back under one of my feathers and make sure that the edges of it don’t show, and then I dress in a workout outfit. I head directly to Brennus’ office and find him seated behind his desk.