Dragan

by Plum Pascal

  The woman nods without a smile. “I assumed.” Then her attention shifts to me and only me. She appears surprised. She reaches out, as if to touch me, before noticing the enspelled bonds that hold me captive. “I see things are more complicated than the stories would imply,” she says and looks at the men though none of them respond.

  “Who are you?” Dragan asks.

  She faces him and appears unimpressed. “My name is Saevel.” She takes a breath. “You are all welcome here. You’re lucky to have made it this far.” I’m not sure what she means, but no one questions her. Instead, we all stand there, watching as she moves across the room. When she reaches the other side, she tugs on a rope that hangs from the ceiling. A staircase drops down from a hidden trap within the ceiling, to reveal a long, narrow corridor that leads to a hidden second floor, high above.

  “Head up the stairs,” she instructs as her eyes land on me again. She seems to realize I’m… something, even though no one has mentioned it to her. Of course, I imagine Variant’s informed everyone that Dragan and Cambion are traveling with an angel. So maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.

  “There are only two rooms,” Saevel continues. “So, you’ll have to share. Hot baths and fresh linens are in each chamber. I’ll prepare supper while you bathe and dress. Raflamir will return shortly. You can discuss your plans then.”

  “What about me?” Flumph asks, rudely. “You got any place special for fae folk?” I figure he considers himself a “fae folk.”

  “I have only what I mentioned,” Saevel tells him, matter of factly.

  “Flumph, you can room with me,” I offer.

  “As will I,” Baron adds. I can’t help my surprise and when I look at him, the expression on his face is one I’ve never seen before.

  “That’s not necessary,” Dragan cuts in, narrowing his eyes as he focuses on Baron.

  “It is,” interrupts Baron.

  Dragan takes a deep breath and clears his throat.

  “What do you bloody well care?” Cambion demands of him.

  Dragan takes another breath which escapes his lips in a hissing sound. But then, as if catching himself in his own jealousy, he simply nods. He glares at me, as though it’s my fault Baron offered to room with me. Who knows, maybe he thinks it is? Maybe he thinks I’ve enchanted Baron with my Succubus magic…

  I chance another look at Baron to try to figure him out. Though there’s something about him that terrifies me, I’m not up for listening to Cambion and Dragan tear away at me, or at each other. So far, Baron is the only one who hasn’t treated me differently for my Succubus nature. In fact, he treats me with the same irritable disinterest he treats the others.

  Flumph gives me a look of uncertainty and whispers, “You sure Vampy is the best bunk buddy out o’ the three o’ them?”

  “I don’t know,” I reply honestly.

  Cambion is the first to climb the stairs. He and Dragan search both rooms as though they’re afraid of an ambush. It’s smart of them, and I feel like a fool for not thinking of the same. We are wanted people; therefore we must be aware of our surroundings.

  Maybe Dragan was right when he said I can’t take care of myself.

  Cambion signals the rest of us, and I wonder if he’s aware of how well he and Dragan work together. When they’re united on a mission, their steps are in tune and their music is one of harmony rather than discord. If everyone wasn’t so keen on arguing all the time, we might have made more progress in our mission by now.

  Baron takes my rope and leads me up the narrow stairs, holding my elbow as he guides me. Flumph floats at my side. When we reach the top, Dragan glares at Baron’s hand on my elbow but then turns around and trudges down the short hallway before pausing in front of the first bedroom. He opens the door for me and I step inside, Baron behind me. I notice the way Dragan hovers at the entrance to the bedchamber, watching Baron intensely.

  “She’s our prisoner which means she’s under our protection,” he says, spearing Baron with his pointed gaze.

  “Understood,” Baron replies, and doesn’t spare a second glance at Dragan or the room in general. Instead, he flops down on the bed.

  Dragan continues to stand there before he shakes himself and stomps away, slamming the door behind him.

  I circle around a privacy screen and find a large copper tub filled to the brim with steaming water. A handful of glass bottles sit on a small, wooden table nearby, filled with perfumes and scented oils. Flumph screws up his nose as he reads them out loud.

  “Why all you pretties gots to smell like flowers ‘an pastries and whatnot?”

  “Isn’t it nice to be and smell clean?” I ask in response.

  He shakes his head. “I don’t care what ya smell like, so long as it ain’t like shit an’ demon semen. Ha ha, that rhymed!”

  My mouth quirks into a smile as I find a robe that might fit. Baron makes no move to leave the bed, so Flumph flies over to him.

  “Hey, you gonna bathe yerself or what?” he demands.

  I notice the vampire doesn’t respond. Flumph inches closer to him, but his knees begin to knock together and it’s obvious he’s afraid of Baron. It’s almost charming, in a bizarre way. I’m glad I’m not the only one scared of something.

  ###

  Baron

  Earlann

  Pain lances through my head like a wildfire blazing through the forest. There are too many smells and sounds for me to attempt sleep. I feel a slight breeze against my cheek and open my eyes. The useless little creature that never shuts up says something to me about bathing, but I don’t bother answering.

  Instead, I sit up from the mattress to see Eilish struggling to remove her clothes with her hands still bound.

  I stand and walk silently across the floorboards. A fire crackles in the hearth beside the tub, and she glances over her shoulder at me with that bashful look in her her eyes—one I believe to be legitimate, even if the others don’t. If they bothered to study her mannerisms and the way she acts in general, they would come to understand she isn’t playing a part. She honestly has no idea what it means to be what she is. But that’s the problem with Cambion and Dragan—they’re so busy attempting to assert themselves to one another that they miss everything going on around them.

  Fools.

  Yes, Succubae are the epitome of seduction. Yes, Eilish exudes sex appeal, but no, she doesn’t realize it.

  At the sound of snoring, I look over my shoulder to find the sprite passed out on the bed, beside the hearth. It’s just as well, as the bloody thing irks me to no end.

  “He must be tired,” Eilish points out with a hesitant laugh. I say nothing, because it’s easy to see she’s attempting to make small talk to cover the fact that she’s nervous. I’m not nervous.

  I take her in from head to toe and I appreciate what I see. Unlike Cambion, whose overt hatred is overdone, and simply masks the fact that he wants this woman just as badly as all of us do, I want her for other reasons.

  Her pretty face and body are simply icing on the cake. It’s the cake I wish to possess.

  Even now, with the way she holds her roped wrists out in front of her, pleading with me to remove them, with that look in her eyes, she might as well be asking me to fuck her.

  “I can’t do much of anything with my hands bound,” she says.

  I say nothing as I approach her, absorbing her soft appearance. She can sate my hunger—both sexual and beyond. She’s already proven she’s able to offer me sustenance with her life energy. I’ve never sampled her blood, but I yearn to taste it. I can only imagine her flavor. Perhaps it’s ironic, but this demonic angel has awakened in me desires I didn’t believe I had. In the beginning of my acquaintance with her, I was convinced that physical desires characterized every other man save myself.

  Yes, I’ve fucked women since my rebirth, but I can’t say I actually enjoyed it. There were many moments when I was not able to reach orgasm and after a few less than satisfying lliasons, I had, more or less, decided
to forego the sins of the flesh altogether.

  Until now.

  Now I experience physical desire in a way I never have before. And while this newfound part of my personality causes me some chagrin, as no man wishes to be slave to his lust, I also am grateful as I feel… invigorated and, dare I say it, alive.

  I bring my attention back to the lovely vision before me as her pink tongue darts out to wet her succulent lips. The heat in the room causes a pretty flush to blossom on her cheeks.

  When I step closer, I feel a sharp pain at my temples. It’s gone a moment later, though, once I stare into the depths of her cerulean gaze. I close the distance between us, until perhaps only a few inches separate us.

  Eilish looks up at me, her eyes wide and questioning. There’s fear in their depths. She’s wise to fear me as, to her, I’m unpredictable. She doesn’t understand me. Furthermore, I am vampire and I was created with death magic. I am death just as much as I’m a death dealer.

  Eilish is right to fear me, though I would never harm her. No, according to the Midnight Queen’s message, I am now Eilish’s caretaker and protector. And I will champion Morrigan’s cause for she is the reason I am here.

  I lift my hand, and my fingers brush a lock of Eilish’s hair from her face in a gesture too tender to be my own. I glare at the appendage as though it’s betrayed me, instantly dropping it back down to my side. There are very few moments when my body does or feels something that must harken back to the days when I lived as Baron. And I do not enjoy those moments for they feel foreign and strange to me.

  A puff of her warm breath caresses my face and I feel my fangs lengthening of their own accord. I bite down on my tongue. Copper floods my mouth.

  I could take her right now. And she would allow me due to what she is.

  I wouldn’t debate the deed in my mind, such that I’m quite certain Dragan does. Yes, I witnessed their tryst in the woods. No, I wasn’t jealous. I was more transfixed by the sight of them than anything else. And after witnessing their sex, it only made me want to experience the angel hybrid all the more. So, no, I would not regret my decision to fuck her. My morals aren’t hazy. I don’t see in shades of gray, but rather in stark, contrasting colors that allow me to admit I’m no hero.

  I never claimed to be.

  “Why did you offer to share a room with me?” Eilish wonders as she studies me with undisguised curiosity.

  Without responding, I reach forward and start to remove the cloak from around her shoulders. My movements are so quick, they appear as a blur. She gasps and looks around in shock as the fabric drops to the floor. My eyes land on her bound wrists and my blood begins to heat. The ropes add to the eroticism of the moment, because she’s victim to whatever I choose to subject her.

  “Baron?” she whispers.

  “My name isn’t Baron,” I retort with iciness on my tongue.

  “Revenant,” she amends, and I nod.

  The air between us is charged—not only with sexual tension, but with something else. Eilish and I are of the same mind; we have a mutual understanding that neither of us have with the others.

  SIXTEEN

  Baron

  Earlann

  “The short answer to your question is Morrigan,” I say as I turn her around so her back is facing me as I imagine she might still wish to maintain a modicum of her privacy. I begin pulling down her dress until it catches on her bound wrists. Her skin erupts with gooseflesh every time I touch her.

  “Morrigan?” she asks in surprise.

  “When I touched Cambion’s stone the second time, I wasn’t greeted with visions of the past,” I begin as I shift her hair from her back and spoon it over one of her shoulders. I run my finger down the length of her spine and she shivers in response.

  “What did you see?” she asks, her voice shaky.

  “I believe Morrigan used the stone as a vehicle in which to reach out to me,” I say.

  She nods, and the air vibrates around us with some unseen force that drives me to take her, to experience the slickness of her. I should be suspicious that these feelings are not born of myself, but I’m not. I don’t care whether they originate from her or from me. They feel good. End of story.

  The truth is that Eilish is a leech, a parasite, such that I am. We’re one and the same. Yes, she’s angel, as well, but that side of her doesn’t concern me because I don’t understand it. What I do understand is her driving hunger, the need she has for answers. I understand the darkness inside her, and I was well aware of its existence long before black, rubbery wings sprouted from her back.

  Unlike Dragan and Cambion, I don’t fault her for her demonic side. I embrace it. The truth of her nature merely draws me closer to her because she’s the only person I’ve ever encountered who understands the pain within me. Because she feels it, too.

  Neither one of us knows who we are. Our memories are locked away to conceal a truth we might never know. We were manipulated like puppets on a string, neither of us able to control the course of our own destinies due to the selfish whims of someone else.

  I need this connection as much as I hate feeling helpless to it.

  In general, I abhor ties to others. At the point you care for another person, you become weak. Furthermore, the only person you can ever rely on is yourself. Forget that rule, and you’ll wind up dead. I don’t intend to make the same mistake twice.

  And yet…

  It’s as if Eilish can see through the shadows that surround me. As if she can sense the man I used to be, behind the darkness that lingers in my eyes. At the same time, she doesn’t label me as Baron, such that the others do. Because she never knew Baron, I am Revenant to her. I am the man I believe myself to be. Neither of us has any allegiance to Baron and perhaps that’s another reason I’m drawn to her. And another reason I prefer to avoid the company of the others.

  Of course, most rational people would prefer to avoid the company of Cambion and Dragan as all they do is quirrel with each other and it becomes quite tiresome.

  “What did Morrigan say to you?” Eilish asks, probing me to continue our conversation.

  “She asked me to become your protector,” I answer.

  Eilish is quiet but her surprise echoes in the energy surrounding her.

  “She believes you are in danger and I believe she also understands she can no longer rely on Dragan to fulfill the position.”

  She nods and appears sorrow laden.

  I continue. “She believes someone is forcing her silence which is why you haven’t heard her voice lately.”

  “Forcing her silence?” she repeats.

  “Yes, she mentioned something to that effect. That there was another force pressing down on her and disallowing her the ability to remain in contact with you.”

  “Hmm,” she answers.

  “Do you know who or what that force could be?”

  “No,” she’s quick to answer. Too quick. Hmm, it would seem she’s hiding something though I don’t blame her. Every man, and woman I suppose, possess their secrets. There’s nothing wrong with that, in my mind.

  She steps away, turning to face me again. She holds her open dress up against her breasts with her bound wrists as if she’s bashful.

  I don’t say anything but just stand there, watching her.

  “Can you return to the other side of the partition?” she asks, but drops her eyes when she does.

  “Why?”

  She glances up at me, as if surprised to hear my question. “I wish to bathe.”

  “Do it in front of me.”

  She swallows hard and makes no move to do anything.

  “I make you nervous,” I say.

  “Yes,” she admits, looking up at me with those innocent, wide blue eyes. “I… I didn’t think you…”

  “Wanted you?” I interrupt her. She nods, and I chuckle. “Every man wants you, you silly girl.”

  “But, you’re different. You aren’t driven by the same things other men are.”

  I nod.
She does understand. “And that makes me incapable of feeling lust?”

  She glances down. “I suppose not.”

  “Have you fed recently?” I ask her, although I already know the answer to the question. I’m curious as to whether or not she’ll admit the truth to me. She looks up at me in surprise again.

  “Fed?”

  “You realize you must feed the Succubus within you?” I ask. “In the same way you must feed your hunger with food, your body also feels hunger for a different type of… sustenance.”

  “Yes, I realize,” she says rather sheepishly and looks away. I must admit, I’m surprised at this side of her. I had imagined the Succubus would have turned her into quite the minx but it appears she’s the same Eilish she always is. I can’t say I’m disappointed. On the flipside, I’m rather encouraged.

  “And?” I ask.

  She swallows again and refuses to meet my gaze. I take the step or so that separates us and I reach out, taking her arm. She lifts her bound hands, as if thinking I’m going to untie her. I’m not. I prefer her like this, as a victim to my desires.

  “Yes, I’ve fed,” she says.

  I chuckle, though something in me tenses. A feeling of sharpness clutches my stomach, but I can’t explain why. I already know she’s fed. I witnessed it for myself. And I loved every minute of it. “Dragan?”

  When she nods, I chuckle again. “Bloody gargoyle can’t keep away from you, no matter how hard he tries.”

  “It’s because of the monster within me,” she explains as she looks at me, hoping I’ll understand. I don’t understand why she jumps to his defense. I don’t know why she bloody well bothers. Dragan has certainly proven himself not to be the man she hoped he was.

  “No,” I respond. “There is no monster within you, Eilish. Dragan fucked you because he wanted you.”

  She continues to stare at me and I at her and she appears to be at a loss where I’m concerned. Of course, she’s never seen this side of me before. Ordinarily, I keep to myself and I I don’t offer much in the way of conversation. Even as early as a few days ago, I was determined to quit her and the others’ company. But, now things are different and I feel energized to find I have a new purpose to uphold, whether Dragan likes it or not. Clearly, he doesn’t like it...