by Lexi Ostrow
Both demons fumbled to get up and shuffle out the door. She closed her eyes and breathed, trying to calm the rage. A Fallen with untempered anger could level a whole city with their strength and trick the inhabitants into thinking they did it with the compulsion that seeped from their pores. Unfortunately only humans were susceptible to it.
“So you had help, Lucius.” Her words echoed in the empty expanse of space. “It would seem there are more players in town and if Lucius doesn’t hurry I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.” She walked to her chair and sat down, but gazed to the mirror hanging on the wall. Her eyes blazed and her fangs were distended from her anger. Muriel wouldn’t be ready for another round so she would use this time to plan and see if perhaps killing the Alliance members wouldn’t be as useful as converting some of them, as she was doing with her once brethren.
***
She’d grown lost in her planning. Documents spread across her desk; plans and profiles of the guild. She hadn’t realized how many days had gone by since she’d gone to Muriel and when Izazal entered without knocking and put his hand on her desk she hadn’t even blinked as she tossed him into the far corner wall. His grunt didn’t even cause her to pick her head up. She had a plan now. If Lucius were to fail at infiltrating the operations of the Alliance she would have no problem executing him for his failure. There was now a way for her to get inside, a way that she’d been to cautious to try prior, but if the Alliance of Silver and Steam was not limited to London, measures needed to be taken. It was only a matter of time before the truth in the actual number of demons would be something of public knowledge. There would be a day when that was knowledge she would release, but not until she had enough Fallen, and now enough Alliance members, fighting for her. Fighting for Hell.
“Seraphina, my liege.” Izazal was back in front of her again, down on one knee with his head bent in the subservience required of the angels to their leaders.
“What, Izazal?” she spat the words, but dropped her eyes back down the profiles of the few hunters she had, trying to pick the right one to break first.
“Seraphina, it’s been three days since you left Muriel’s door open. She almost walked right out this morning. Had the guards been any less than Fallen themselves, she would have succeeded.
She let her fangs slip out further and hissed at him. “Do not tell me how to do my job.” Though she was annoyed at herself. Three days of planning was too long. Muriel’s fight could start to return. She would need to finish it now, quicker than she would have liked. The pain from her wing being destroyed would have vanished days ago, the wounds all healed from the torture as well. She would still be weak, but now she’d lost the advantage of playing with the angel now. “Thank you for the message, Izazal. I apologize for the outburst. Please ready yourself for your part and I will see to Muriel’s final fall.”
Leaving her work behind, she transported to the cell and Muriel twitched where she lay on the floor, hands still bound together.
“I was beginning to hope someone had killed you and I would be rescued.” Muriel’s voice was soft, weak, but clearly filled with misguided hope.
She wasted no time and took her dagger to the remaining wing, slicing deep into the flesh and cutting out a quarter of the feathers. “That’s the problem with hope. It doesn’t get you anything.” She punched Muriel in the nose and smirked as blood trickled. She had to give the angel credit. Despite the bite of the blade she’d said nothing and hadn’t moved at all. “Think you can remain quiet this time?” She blew Muriel a kiss and slammed the dagger to the hilt into the woman’s shoulder.
Slowly she dragged the blade down, feeling the pull and tension as it sliced messily through the root feather. She wasn’t prepared for the elbow that slammed backwards and shattered her in the teeth. “Bloody hell.” The dagger slipped, but was so deeply embedded into the flesh it only drooped, instead of falling out.
Muriel thrashed against the ground, slamming her own head once and then twice into the ground. Her body shook even as the screams ripped through the room. Seraphina took hold of the hilt once more and continued to pull it through flesh, curving once she passed the middle of Muriel’s back and then began to slice upwards. The angel’s cries were loud enough to temporarily deafen her, but she didn’t mind. In the future she would not be the one to strip an angel, only special cases like past combat brethren who had forsaken her, like Muriel.
Finally, reaching the top of the incision again she jerked the blade free, not even moving back as the chunk of flesh, muscle and root feather tumbled backwards on her foot. A line of blood sprayed into her mouth and she only grinned wider. The screaming continued even as she stood up from behind Muriel and tossed the mess into a bin. Before passing Izazal in the doorway she turned to look at the convulsing form of the angel on the floor.
“I warned you Muriel. All those years ago I told you that you would pay for letting Demetrious die. Consider this the beginning of your penance.”
Seraphina pulled Izazal’s mouth to hers and kissed him, purring and rubbing her body against his, making sure his erection pressed into her stomach before slowing the grind of her hips into his and the dance of her tongue inside his mouth. She pulled back and ran her tongue over the seam of Izazal’s mouth once more. He had been such a good lover, but he would be tainted after sleeping with Muriel, no longer a suitable bedmate.
He groaned and she whispered into his ear, “Feed her until she’s able to move again, and then fuck her until she can’t remember anything but what a pair you two were.”
He nodded and she smiled to no one at all as she took the final step out of the room. Sometimes it’s just too good to be me.
Chapter 14
Night was falling over Halifax and nothing could wipe the grin from Lucius’s face. Eliza hadn’t been round to see him just as she’d explained for the past days. He’d stood guard, quietly outside her home each night. And each night when she’d finally returned from the feast or the guests had left her home for the evening, he felt her slip into sleep and would join her from outside. His prick stirred as he stuck his head under the running tap to cleanse his hair. Just the thought of spending the night with her was enough to make him solid as a pole and they didn’t even always start in bed. They ended there, naturally but it wasn’t just about the lovemaking.
The first night in her dreams they’d taken a walk along the Thames, the upper part, nearest the Royals. But it had been a lovely evening. There were no demons attacking them, never were in her dreams because he controlled them and he would never let the bad thoughts in at night for her ever again. At first he’d felt he was manipulating her, until he remembered that it was her desires and wants just as much as his that dictated what a person saw when he entered their dreams. That and the knowledge that she woke up every time he left her after he’d been certain to pleasure her like no other male ever would be able to because she was his. The next night she’d forced him to sit through a dreadful opera, but her mouth had found his cock and sucked him intently while they’d listened. Last night had been a session in her labs at the guild. He’d marveled at how they looked, at the use of crystals instead of candles for light, and she’d abruptly sealed off access to those details in order to work on a crystal motorbike that had literally blown up on her and caused her holiday to Halifax. She’d been all crazed and sexy as she’d flown about, tinkering here and there. It was that moment that did him in. That moment, watching her hair covered in soot and grease as she babbled about a frequency of some sort, that he fell in love with his mate.
He whistled as he put on the black suit and grey cravat that he’d worn the first time he’d met her on the train. He felt as if it would be a good omen, tonight he was going to tell her he loved her. She’d already asked him to pretend to court her so they wouldn’t sneak around Halifax, but he was going to press the matter until she allowed him to truly ask her father for permission to entertain his daughter. His steps were lighter as he walked down th
e now familiar path. He was running a little late, Seraphina had sent a new demon with a message and a target. Though it sickened him, he found a drunk in the light of afternoon and took his soul for her. There had been no questions from Seraphina of his intentions, no demands he move faster. So, he chose to believe his ruse was working and soon he and Eliza would be free and Seraphina would run rampant with false information, giving the Alliance a chance to end her reign. He really believed that with her exterminated, the order would return to what it had been and yes demons would still be topside, and yes humans would still die. But it would be as nature clearly intended it to be and not a full scale, dual species war.
The familiar tree loomed in the distance and his grin widened. Tonight would be perfect. So perfect she wouldn’t be able to say no. They hadn’t broached the concept of a mating, or him being demon since the first day and he was grateful, but sticking one’s head into the sand was not how things got done. He leaned back and crossed his feet at the ankles and fixed his bow tie. It was late, he could feel the energy patterns of so many sleeping people around him, including Eliza’s. Not wasting any more time, he closed his eyes and sought her out. He found her sitting in the same room with lush golden sheets and rich curtains as the night he took her body for the first time against the glass window.
A different location, but the same room. He wondered if her thinking on it meant anything. He was so busy looking at the room he didn’t notice her sprawled out on her back on the bed, stark naked. One hand was playing with her breasts and her legs were spread, with slender fingers dancing across her glistening core; an invitation if he ever saw one. She groaned and tossed her head back chasing away the plans he had to do this right and proper. His cock punched out into his pants and he closed his eyes to not jump on her and startle her. She was already in her own dream he realized.
“Eliza,” He rasped out and made sure his clothes were gone as well. There would be no need for them with what he was going to be doing to her tonight. Her eyes opened slowly and he was hit with another surge of lust as she blushed. “No, no don’t do that. Don’t ever do that.” He crossed the room in two strides to where she lay on the bed. He pressed his mouth to hers as his hand took hold of hers and moved her fingers in a slow circle across her swollen clit. She cried out into his mouth and arched off the bed even as her free hand raked across his chest. She’d been adventurous of sorts in bed, but seeing her pleasure herself had his own release pounding through him and he had to bite his tongue to force it back. If she was already willing and waiting this was going to be all about her.
He left her mouth and pressed kisses down her body, still running his fingers over her core. The desperate moans rising from her knocked him off his game, made his mind spin with lust as he laved his tongue over her pebbled nipple and bit down on it. He let her hand go and pushed it aside as he slipped his finger into her wet sheath. He blew hot air across her nipple before continuing to kiss his way down her body, stopping at her core. He licked a path up it, while his finger continued to work in and out.
“Oh, Lucius. Yes, Lucius, yes.” Her voice was hoarse and she trembled beneath his mouth as he let his tongue slip inside and swirl around as his finger continued to thrust in and out. Her panting was driving him mad and he dragged his cock into his hand and squeezed the head of his shaft before pulling back from her body.
“Love, touch me. Stroke me while I taste you more.”
Her hand folded around his length and his hips bucked into her hands. He returned his head between her legs and slipped a second finger inside, scissored it with the first as he licked her folds over and over. Her hips were frantic, her touch on his erection strong and stronger every time he pleased her. He was relentless with his tongue and his two fingers and she was with his cock, fisting it with both hands and creating a friction so potent his cry broke through the room at the same time as hers. He didn’t stop though, his tongue continued to lick and flick and swirl and thrust into her until her knees clamped round his head and her hand let go of his cock. Her hands dug into his hair as she rode his mouth. Her second release jerked through her body so hard he felt the pressure on his cheeks.
“Lucius. Oh my god, Lucius.” Her voice was sultry, her legs unwound from his head and she went from clutching his hair to running her fingers through it. “You weren’t supposed to see that but, you were late and you were all I was able to think about as some rich Englishman pawed at me all evening.”
He saw red at the idea of another man sitting anywhere near her, let alone touching her. He kissed a trail back up her body and swung his body over hers, dragging his still erect cock across her core, letting just the tip slip inside as he nuzzled her neck. “Love, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The most erotic. The most amazing. And I’m going to make love to you now, if you think you can handle a third round of pleasure.” He winked down at her and sank his cock slowly inside her body.
She moaned and arched up to meet him, shoving her breasts near enough to his mouth that he kissed the swell of both. “If you stop, I shall have to find a way to torture you for weeks on end, Lucius Willan.” She laughed, ruining the threat behind the words and he gyrated his hips, sheathing himself inside her fully.
“Well we can’t have that now can we, love?” He claimed her mouth with that and his hips started a slow and sensuous slide in and out of her. He saw her hands fist the golden sheets and he smiled despite himself. She was saying his name like a mantra, as if he was sacred, until suddenly she was screaming it, but the tone was all wrong.
“Lucius! Lucius help me! Help me!” Her scream sliced through him and one minute he was fucking her slowly and the next she was gone and he was laying in a mess of sweaty sheets.
He slammed his mind back into his body, taking himself out of the trance. Frantically he forced his brain to function quickly. Something had happened to his Eliza. He leapt off the tree he was leaning on and sprinted across the cobblestone road.
He stared in transfixed horror. The wrought iron gate stood open, blood tracked along the gravel path. “ELIZA!” he bellowed, not caring if the neighbors overhead him. His shoes sent gravel flying as he raced up the path. The front door was closed and when he wrapped his hand around the gold plated knob it swung open. The smell of blood and death mixed in his nose. Fear gnawed away at him as he looked. The blue sofa was flipped over, blood streaked across it like a path to the woman lying on the floor. She was dressed in finery save for the slice that went from ear to ear. Blood drained from her neck and though she was gone he needed to know by how much. Her cheek was warm to the touch, but cooling ever still and he suspected her mother had been dead only minutes. Her hair was the same spun blonde, as Eliza’s and she’d never spoken of visitors. Which meant he was looking at Eliza’s mother, dead and bloody on the floor.
“ELIZA!” he roared as he began to race through the halls. One night, she had shown him her home in his dream, all but her bedroom, the one room he needed to locate.
He took the stairs two at a time, in some instances three. A man in a butler’s outfit lay curled in a ball, blood running like a river from his stomach down the steps. His mind spun with fear, the man was not his Eliza, but he had no clue what he would find. He turned onto the second floor and blew through the open door in front of him. A large bed draped in expensive linens held another body. Another man; he lay in sleeping clothes and the cover had been tossed off his body. No blood marred his body, but his face was frozen in shock. He’d been strangled to death. “Dean and Arial.”
He cursed and ran out of the room. How many more dead would he find? He frantically checked the next two doors, screaming for Eliza until he finally heard her shout his name back. His heart was pounding like a mass of carriages trampling through a city. His eyes darted from left to right, taking in the smashed pottery, the torn wallpaper and the shattered window fragments that covered the floor. This had all happened so quick, and while he’d kept her all but trapped in a dream she’d been in da
nger. How many blasted demons had been sent here and how was she still alive to call out to him?
“Lucius, please. I need help.” The fear in her voice tore him in half. He turned and ran from the room; following the sound of her sobs he ignored the next door and stopped in front of the final door in the hallway. It was open and he could see her. Fury ripped and clawed at him. He felt his eyes go a deadly shade of black. She was in a lush pink sleeping gown laying on the floor, leaning against a luxurious oak, four-post bed. Tears tracked down her face and the gown was marred with a giant red stain across her stomach. Her fingers clutched desperately at the wound and he was by her side in a flash.
“What happened, love? Who was here? Who did this to you?” He could tell Arial and Dean had been here, but slicing a victim open was not their modus operandi. Something else had been here, something had needed to come through the front door. Could Seraphina have caused this herself? He growled at the thought and did his best to calm down, for Eliza’s sake.
“Please. Need my communicator.” She lifted her hand off her stomach to point to the strange communication device. The blood flowed slowly from the wound and he sighed in relief when he realized it was deep and painful, but hadn’t nicked anything serious or the blood wouldn’t be moving as slow. He’d killed many dreamers through gutting, he knew what it looked like and she would be fine. But that would not stop him from tracking down every creature responsible, even if he died in the process from his lack of physical usefulness in a fight.
