“Me?” A chill went down my spine. “Could he have promised them me? You said the food sources overlap sometimes…”
“Normally, men are easier for them to hunt, but yes, they would take you if they could get away with it.”
He hugged me closer to his chest. “Raim wants you out of the way for some reason. He must know by now that I defeated three of the Soldiers he sent. He knows I am getting stronger. He must have guessed I have been feeding and now wants to take the source of my power away from me to make me weaker and easier to capture.”
He lowered his head and unexpectedly kissed me on the lips. Soft and tender at first, the kiss grew more powerful, more urgent, as if he was reassuring himself that I was still here. Finally, he pulled away with a groan.
“I wish we had more time! But we need to get out of here. I have the passports; we should go.”
He put me down carefully, my head still reeling from the unexpected kiss, and got up himself then started putting things into his duffel bag.
I watched him move swiftly through the room and his theory on why Grand Master wanted to get rid of me didn’t entirely make sense. Why go through the trouble of separating me from Sytrius? If my sexual energy was what the Council thought was his “source of power” then they were obviously mistaken thinking that I was the only one from whom he could get it.
All he needed to do was to go to any nightclub downtown right now. He wouldn’t even have to say a thing; the mere presence of his large muscular body moving with the unexpected, for his size, fluid grace, one look of those eyes of winter blue, one flash of that wide toothy smile with teasing dimples before the first girl would fling her panties at him.
Even better, he could get any woman, or as many women as he wanted, right here in this hotel. Honestly, he could have several at the same time if he felt so inclined. He could bathe in their sexual energy with little to no effort on his part.
There was nothing he was getting from me that he couldn’t get from anyone else.
The Council should know that. After all, they had been around for hundreds if not for thousands of years.
Chapter Twenty Nine. The Flight.
Sytrius got us two first-class tickets on the 11:00 pm flight to London departing that night. First class was beyond extravagant and unnecessary, in my opinion, but he explained that he couldn’t take all the cash with him anyway, due to the customs limits on the amount of cash one could import or export while travelling.
“Most importantly, “ he added after we boarded the plane and took our super comfy seats, “first class tickets come with priority boarding. I wanted you and your amulet to be on the plane first before any other passengers could board.”
I hadn’t thought about that: the sooner I got on the plane the better. The amulet then would prevent any demons from boarding the plane after me.
Well, flying first class had a number of other benefits too. We each got a flute of champagne before the departure, and my worries eased even before I saw the bright lights of the airport below us recede into the distance.
Remembering that Sytrius claimed once that alcohol had no effect on him, I emptied both of our champagne flutes myself. The warm effervescence was now spreading through my mind and body. Champagne and the view of the ground below departing farther away in my window calmed my nerves enough to enjoy the flight. We were leaving Canada now and, hopefully, were leaving behind all of our demons too, literally and figuratively.
A very friendly male flight attendant cleared our dinner trays, and I stretched out on my fully reclined seat, ready to drift asleep. Sytrius covered me with the complementary blanket and then settled in to watch TV with a set of headphones on.
I looked up at him from my headrest. From this angle, I had the view of his underjaw covered in short stubble. With everything that happened today, he didn’t have a chance to shave. My eyes followed the line of his neck to the place where it met his shoulder, where I liked to snuggle in with my nose and where I knew the scent of him was stronger.
He wore one of the newly purchased long-sleeved t-shirts today. It was dark blue with three small buttons at the neckline. All three buttons were undone right now, and my mouth watered as I fought the sudden urge to lick the smooth, tanned skin along his exposed collarbone…
I felt his hand on mine and moved my eyes higher to see him looking at me. He lifted my hand to his lips and brushed them softly against my knuckles. My breath caught, and I crossed my legs, helpless to control the sweet pressure building between my thighs.
“Do you want me to take it away?” he asked in a whisper, turning my hand over and nuzzling my palm. “Or do you want to feel it?” His lips planted a soft kiss on the inside of my wrist.
“Let me feel it…” I breathed out. “…Just for another second, please…” I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of his lips on my skin. “Make sure you take it away soon, though… I don’t want to get us in trouble by joining the mile-high club right here… in front of everyone….”
The soft murmur of voices pulled me out of my dreamless sleep and into the dimly lit cabin of the plane. It was very quiet now, with most of the passengers asleep, so even though the conversation next to me was spoken in muted voices, I heard it perfectly well. Sytrius was talking to the male flight attendant who served us dinner earlier.
It seemed to be a friendly fun talk, a little too friendly actually. They were engaged in a light flirty chat, exchanging jokes that were a bit risqué, considering that the guy was at work. He was seemingly leading the conversation, with Sytrius mostly replying to his innuendos.
I didn’t miss how quick Sytrius’s retorts were. He was no longer pausing in search for words as he did a few days ago. Now, his speech was fluid, and his choice of words accurate.
“I’m having fun talking with you,” I heard the man say, and opened my eyes a little to see that he was standing next to Sytrius, leaning on the back of the empty seat in front of him. I also noticed that his knee was resting comfortably against Sytrius’s thigh and that Sytrius hadn’t moved it out of his way, even as most of straight human men would have.
“I am going to pray for you to miss your flight in the morning.” The man’s knee playfully bumped Sytrius’s leg. “I’d love to show you the real Big Ben!” He winked. “You know that the one in London is just a clock, right?”
“Hardly worth the trip overseas, is it?” Sytrius laughed in reply softly.
“I could make it worthwhile for you! I’m staying in London now for the next 48 hours. Let me know if your plans change or if my prayers are answered and your flight to Munich is cancelled.” He chuckled. “I’ve been to London many times and can show you the city …or my hotel room, or both.” He grinned at Sytrius and wiggled his eyebrows in a way that was both sexy and funny.
“I would have loved that,” said Sytrius, returning the smile, and I thought I heard a true regret in his voice. “But I have to get to Munich to see my friend there as soon as I can. We may meet again someday, Grayson.”
“Someday,” nodded the young man, his smile fading a little.
Sytrius turned to me suddenly, and I felt guilty being caught listening to their conversation.
“Did you have a good sleep?” he asked. “We should be landing in one hour or so. Right, Grayson?” He addressed the male flight attendant, who was still standing next to him. Grayson nodded to me with a smile and left for the galley in the front of the plane.
“What happened?” Sytrius asked, cocking his head at me inquisitively.
Was he really that clueless or just didn’t care? Did I even have a right to question his behaviour, not to mention making a scene? I trusted that he wouldn’t put me in a harm’s way, but there was nothing that would prevent him from leaving me with the amulet in a hotel in London, for example, while he and Grayson went to explore the city – or hotel rooms – together.
Regardless of how I might be feeling about him now, the truth still remained: he wasn’t mine, never had been and
never would be.
“Don’t.” I heard his voice above me.
“What?” I asked confused.
“You’re working yourself up inside for some reason. You were feeling so peaceful while you were sleeping.”
“It’s useless to try and hide things from you, isn’t it?” I raised the back of my seat up to his level and turned my head on the headrest to face him.
“No, you can’t hide. But you still need to explain. Remember, I’m learning, but I still don’t know why you feel the way you do lots of times. What is bothering you?”
“No, not really bothering, I’m just curious.” The truth was I didn’t even feel that jealous anymore seeing him flirting with somebody else. It was mostly the feeling of sadness at the realization that we truly were never meant to be. “You were flirting with the flight attendant right now. Do you like him?”
He inhaled slowly, thinking about it for a second before answering. “When people flirt with me, it is highly contagious. It triggers a response in me.” His relaxed expression was replaced with a frown for a second. “Flirting is a natural response in the likes of me. It’s almost like a reflex. Like when you sneeze in a dusty room. That said, though, I don’t necessarily have to flirt with everyone. It’s just that seeing the effervescence of attraction inside of people is fun. It makes them happy and makes them feel good about themselves too.”
“You turned him down.” I reminded him and remembered the woman at the front desk of the airport hotel. He turned her down too, claiming that she still felt happy and flattered despite the fact.
“It doesn’t matter. The fact that I turned him down means very little in comparison to how I did it. He was sad a little but not miserable. He didn’t feel personally rejected in any way, and the pleasure from our earlier conversation remained intact. I checked. That was actually by far the biggest emotion he carried away from our encounter.”
“What did you carry away?” I asked. “What do you get from these encounters, Sytrius?”
“Nothing.” He seemed puzzled for a moment. “I had fun talking to him too, but I didn’t skim any emotions from him, if that’s what you mean. In this low light, my eyes would have been too obvious if I tried. Besides, I seem to be developing a taste preference for your emotions, specifically.” He smiled. “There is this extremely pleasant potent flavor that the emotions of others don’t have. It makes all your feelings that much more satisfying. I could swear they last longer too.”
“Well, I’m very flattered to be your buffet of choice,” I said, not without sarcasm, and added more earnestly, “but you really should be more careful with people’s feelings. It’s easy to make a mistake and lead someone on unintentionally, giving false hopes.”
It was too late for me, personally, but I hoped I could still save the hearts of others from breaking over him.
Chapter Thirty. Munich.
It was almost noon local time when we landed in Heathrow. The connecting flight to Munich was just under two hours long, too short for me to get any real sleep. Since I slept on the plane on our flight from Toronto to London, though, I was feeling fine when we arrived, but I sensed that I would need a nap sometime soon to get over the jetlag completely.
Nobody was meeting us at the airport. The plan was for us to take a taxi to the house where Andras lived along with some other incubi.
I watched the streets of Munich passing by through the window of the taxi, noticing how different they looked from everything that I was used to seeing back home in Canada. At the same time, the buildings reminded me of some older parts of Toronto.
This was my first time in Europe, besides the hour and a half that Sytrius and I spent inside Heathrow airport in London while waiting for the connecting flight. Given the choice of course, I would have preferred to come here under different circumstances and with any other purpose than the visit of a house full of demons. Yet, it was still exciting to be in a foreign country, and I couldn’t wait to walk these streets soon.
The taxi took us to a residential area located near Muenchen-Obermenzing train stop, and dropped us off in front of a house with a large metal front door finished in bright blue.
Despite it being barely the beginning of April now, the house was surrounded by trees and shrubs already covered in new green leaves. The main structure of the house had two floors, but I couldn’t tell exactly how many levels there were in total. Some parts of the house seemed to have been added over the past century or so, including one or two additions on top that seemed to be smaller in footprint than the original construction and had several gables with windows, which could have been either real or decorative.
Sytrius didn’t bother to knock and just pushed the door open, walking right in. I followed him cautiously, feeling as an intruder. Well, I reasoned if people or demons living here didn’t like intruders, they would have locked the door or would have at least installed a doorbell since I didn’t see any outside.
The inside of the house also didn’t look like the houses I was used to seeing back in Canada. We didn’t walk into an open concept living space, not even into a real hallway. Instead, the dark front entry area looked more like a landing in an apartment building, complete with a set of concrete stairs right in front of us. At the top of the stairs was another landing with several mismatched doors, which I later learned led not to separate apartments but to different rooms of the house. Behind one door was the kitchen, for example, another one led to the dining room.
The rooms were interconnected with other rooms inside the house too, bypassing the doors in the stairwell. All the rooms, doors and random hallways together created a true anthill-like structure that would take a while to get used to navigating without getting lost.
One of the doors on the second landing was already open when we got there. A man stood in the doorway, expecting us. He was dimly lit by the light filtering from some distant window in one of the rooms behind him.
Since this was the only light in the stairwell, I couldn’t see his face very well. His hair was dark, almost black in the weak light, and it fell in thick, layered waves to below his shoulders.
What looked like a long, grey, hooded robe – threadbare and fraying along the hem – was draped over his tall frame. The robe was held by a rope or a cord tied around his waist. Judging by the age and cut of the robe, it was not from this century. Most likely, it was older than the last century too, if I had to guess.
“Alyssa, this is Andras.” Sytrius introduced us without offering a greeting to the man himself. “Andras, this is Alyssa.”
“Nice to meet you, Andras.” I stretched my hand out to shake his.
“No!” Faster than lightning, Sytrius shot his arm out and grabbed my hand, startling me, before Andras even had a chance to move in my direction. “Don’t touch him. Don’t touch anyone in here skin-to-skin, Alyssa.” He then tipped his chin at Andras. “Put your gloves on. Now.”
“My apologies, Alyssa,” said Andras in a deep melodious voice that rolled over me like warm honey. Not at all offended by Sytrius’s rudeness, he pulled a pair of grey leather gloves from behind his belt tie and put them on. “ We are not used to receiving female company in here. It is very lovely to meet you.”
He took a step forward and offered me his gloved hand. I shook it cautiously, staying close to Sytrius.
“Let me show you to your room. You must be tired from your flight.” He gestured with his hand towards the second flight of concrete stairs leading up. His gaze finally slid to Sytrius briefly, and he acknowledged his presence with a short nod, “Sytry,” before going up the stairs in front of us.
“Sytry?” I whispered curiously to Sytrius as we followed Andras up the stairs. “Is it your nickname?”
“No.” He frowned. “Sytry is my real name, the demon name used for me by the Council. Some of us prefer other names for everyday use, or at least a modification of the demon name.” I could tell he didn’t like the name Sytry very much for whatever it might represent to him, but
I didn’t ask any more questions.
“Sytrius,” he called out to Andras. “I go by Sytrius and you know it, Andras.” The way he said his name implied that Andras himself might have another name as well.
“Very well. Sytrius it is,” Andras said in a pacifying voice. He stopped on the top landing and opened the door that I thought led to our room only to find another set of stairs leading further up. The stairs were wooden this time and much narrower than the ones we had just ascended.
The two flights of wooden stairs ended in a small landing with a single door that Andras opened, gesturing for us to follow him.
We walked into a small hallway with a door to a surprisingly large bathroom to the left. Right in front of us, the hallway opened into a studio apartment with a small kitchenette to the right and glass doors to what looked like a rooftop patio straight ahead. A colourful woven rug covered most of the light-grey carpeted floor. The afternoon sun shone through the window above the kitchen table and through the glass of the patio doors. The whole apartment felt light and airy, completely opposite to the gloomy impression left on me by the rest of the house that I had seen so far.
A double bed with a handmade afghan throw on it was pushed into a corner to the left behind the bathroom. I stopped in my tracks when I noticed a man lying in bed with his eyes closed and with his arms stretched atop of the throw covering him.
“This is Zander,” stated Andras. “He is resting. You’ll meet him at dinner along with Alfarr, who is also staying here for now. Your room is up here.” He pointed at the ladder next to the entrance from the hallway behind us that I didn’t notice until now. The ladder of about a dozen wide wooden planks led to an open trap door in the ceiling. “There is a bed with clean bedding. Please rest. I look forward to seeing you at dinner again, Alyssa.” He bowed politely before exiting the apartment.
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