All Hallows' Satyr (The Cursed Satyroi Book 5)

Home > Other > All Hallows' Satyr (The Cursed Satyroi Book 5) > Page 16
All Hallows' Satyr (The Cursed Satyroi Book 5) Page 16

by Rebekah Lewis


  What the actual fuck was happening?

  "Letum."

  She turned back to Adonis who groaned and rubbed his forehead. "What?" If he were incoherent, something serious could be wrong. Wait, wasn't that the Latin term for the zombie things they were talking about earlier? "I thought those were a joke."

  "Wish they were." He struggled to sit up and she helped him. "Shit, my whole body hurts."

  Pan cut the other guy's head off and Ariston made quick work of stabbing both bodies in the hearts.

  "Are they really zombies?" She shuddered. The one she'd seen up close had moved like a zombie, maybe not quite as slow as the ones in movies and television, and he'd had bleeding gums. The guy certainly had smelled the way she'd imagined a zombie would.

  Ariston joined the conversation as Sage helped Adonis to his feet. He was heavier than he looked when nearly toppled, but she supported him. "We don't know how many there are."

  Another scream pierced the night.

  "Or how many new ones there will be by the time we find the first set," Pan added grimly.

  Sage looked at them each in turn and barked out a laugh. She quickly covered her mouth as they all stared at her. Clearing her throat, she retrieved the dagger from the sheath in her back pocket and said in her most deadpanned voice, "Happy Halloween. Let's go stop the zombie apocalypse, shall we?"

  17

  "You took your sweet time getting here," Myrine said dryly. "I was beginning to think you listened to my advice and went home."

  Chrys flicked his gaze to the side where the Amazon queen took a fighting stance next to him, spear at the ready. She was beautiful in her leather pants and black tank top. Blood ran from a cut on her shoulder, making her appear even more the fearless fighter. He wished he hadn't had to miss part of the battle to get there. Perhaps he could have spared her that injury, though she wore it as a badge of courage. She was every inch an Amazon warrior. "There was a complication."

  Understatement where Dionysus was involved.

  "Oh?" Myrine said pointedly. "I can't wait to hear all about that if you survive this. Brace yourself. When his neck glows gold, fire is about to erupt from its throat."

  "Good to know." Chrys hastily pulled the spear from over his shoulder, discarding the rope he'd used to secure it across his back. The big black dragon glared at him while its wings beat heavily above the trees. How did such a large creature hide? "Why isn't he attacking?"

  Myrine laughed. "Don't worry. He will." She paused to meet his gaze, a sparkle of combat in her eye. He hadn't seen such a look in centuries, and her beauty and drive took his breath away. "He's recharging above range of the spears…from the ground."

  As she spoke, she raised her fist over her head, and warrior cries echoed high above as several spears shot out of the trees around the dragon. Many stuck through his wings and hind legs. He roared in fury at the blind attack.

  It struck Chrys then why he'd been led into battle later than the others. He gawked at Myrine. "You used me as a distraction?" The dragon had been focused on him alone and hadn't noticed the vrykolakas climbing the trees. It was a clever strategy, but he wished he'd been informed of it. Had she not trusted he would arrive in order to do it?

  "Look out!" Myrine shouted and grabbed his arm as she entered a run. She was faster than him, and he stumbled, dropping his weapon so he didn't hurt her as he dragged her down. Flames erupted mere feet away, in the spot he'd been standing moments ago, and he rolled on top of her to shield her from the heat. Though they were out of direct range, the intensity of it scorched his skin enough that he was sure to have blisters. Luckily, they'd heal by morning.

  "We'll meet again, satyr, when you are not hiding behind a bunch of sneaky females." The voice of the dragon slithered through his mind, and he turned his head up as the large reptile disappeared from view. The flaps of its wings, however, took much longer to fade away.

  Chrys bristled. He wasn't hiding behind anyone, and even if he was, these females were better fighters than most men. It was hard to tell what was more insulting, honestly. Squirming beneath him brought his attention back to the more pleasant predicament he'd found himself in.

  "The protection was unwarranted." Myrine placed her palms on his shoulders but didn't push him off her.

  When her gaze dropped to his mouth, he hardened. Those pills Nestor made did wonders most days, but it couldn't fight genuine attraction. A blessing when the object of his attention was a sure thing. Not so much when he had the hots for a warrior queen who would sooner feed him his balls than swoon over some cheesy pickup line to get her in bed. The moment she became aware of his situation, her grip on his shoulders tightened.

  "Leave us!" she shouted, not wavering in her focus on him.

  Chrys started to roll off her, but to his surprise she held him firmly in place, wrapping her legs around his thighs before he could act. "What are—?"

  Eyes glowing an eerie yellow, she said in a sultry voice, "Shut up and kiss me, Chrysander."

  This was everything he wanted, but he had apparently lost his wits when the dragon sprayed fire at them because he could merely stare at her, dumbstruck and aroused as hell. Myrine growled in frustration and rolled him over onto his back. The spots on his shoulder blades that the heat had irritated came alive in pain. He hissed through the sensation as she sat up on his lap. The new position made him harder, if that were even possible, despite the pain in his back each movement caused.

  "Not too many men would take the brunt of dragon fire for a woman, especially one who can take care of herself," she said as she dragged her hands down his body to the clasp of his jeans. He didn't dare remind her that he'd tripped and fallen when that happened, not when it had made him sound more heroic than he'd been clumsy. She unfastened his pants with ease, then slipped a hand inside to free his length. "Gods, I missed sex. When I wasn't in control of my body because of that bitch, she made us abstain."

  Lamia had enslaved all her vrykolakas through their blood bond. All but Bremusa, anyway. This fact, along with other scattered thoughts, niggled at the back of his mind. He needed to check on Jacen. Had Theron done anything? He'd been out of contact too long. He—

  Myrine stroked his length and all lingering responsibilities fell away. "Keep doing that and things will get messy."

  When she smiled, her little fangs glistened in the light. "Do you know how millennia without sex makes a woman yearn for it?" Need spiraled through him at her words. Gods, was she going to bite him? Drink from him? He came at the thought of her fangs in his neck while he pumped into her hand, but she didn't seem at all put off by it. In fact, her breathing only increased.

  Myrine released him and he groaned at the loss. "Don't you dare move."

  Ah, she likes control. This wasn't too surprising considering she'd been mind-controlled so long. He doubted she'd ever give that up again, to anyone. Chrys had never been submissive, but he didn't mind letting a woman take charge in bed if that's what it took to get her off. He licked his lips as Myrine removed her boots and pants, but nothing above the waist. While he longed to have her naked against him, they were out in the open, exposed. "What if Destroyer comes back?"

  "He won't. He uses a lot of energy to create fire. Has to go heal from the holes to his wings." She straddled him once more. "No more talk of dragons, Chrysander. I haven't had a good fuck in what feels like forever, and no mortals have been worth the effort. Since satyrs have endless stamina, I plan to get my fill."

  He gripped her hips and eased her over his length. As he slid inside, she threw her head back, moaning. It didn't take her long to find her rhythm. Chrys groaned as he dug his hooves into the dirt and thrust into her. The skin on his back was tight and agonizing, but Myrine felt so good that the combination of pleasure and pain sent him careening into an orgasm.

  She laughed huskily. "I'd be furious about that if you weren't a satyr."

  "Is that all I am good for?" he asked, unsure if he meant it in a teasing fashion or not. He didn't
intend on being a satyr forever if he could help it.

  She met his gaze and her lips twitched into a smile. "I've seen how you look at me, Chrysander. Isn't this everything you've wanted since we met? You could stay here with me, my own personal plaything."

  Gods, she was serious. It wasn't like he didn't use women all his life to take the edge off the curse, but he'd never had someone blatantly want him for sex only. It was shocking, certainly, but also kind of hot. What would she do though, keep him in that hole until it suited her?

  He rolled them over and pinned her arms over her head, remaining inside. Her eyes widened for a moment and then she laughed. The sound tinkled through his blood and he kissed her. She stiffened beneath him and then opened to him. When he slipped his tongue in to tangle with hers, she met him stroke for stroke. As he pulled away, she caught his lip with her fang enough to draw blood.

  His hips picked up the pace as she dragged him into another kiss, this one tinged with the coppery flavor of his blood. The knowledge that he sated both her lust and hunger pleased him on a primitive level. When she came, she broke the kiss and screamed in ecstasy. Chrys braced himself and continued pumping until he had her shaking and keening out cries for more. Suddenly, Myrine grabbed his head and shoulder and struck, fangs sinking deep into his neck as his release tore through him stronger than ever before. She rolled him over once more, taking control as she drank from him, only letting go when she brought herself to another climax, screaming her release to the heavens with her head thrown back.

  Myrine was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and everything within him demanded he should stay with her. But he had so much more he had to see done before he could shack up with a gorgeous woman for more than a night. If Dionysus told the truth, it could take a year before he could do such a thing. It sobered him despite the satisfaction good sex brought.

  She collapsed onto his chest. To his surprise, Myrine didn't immediately leap to her feet to get dressed and leave. Instead, she ran her fingers over his chest and glanced up at him. "I suppose you'll do the opposite of what I want and have to return to your big corporate office again."

  Though he wished with all his heart he could stay, he had to answer honestly. "I do."

  They lay in silence for some time before she asked, "So what was the hold up on your arrival? You said something happened?"

  He'd forgotten he'd promised to explain his delay. It shouldn't surprise him that she'd remembered, considering her plan wouldn't have worked if he never showed. "Dionysus is alive."

  Myrine stilled. Slowly, she rose to a sitting position, sliding off him with one hand resting on his chest. "How is that possible. I saw his decapitated body, his butchered heart. He was dead."

  Chrys shook his head. He wished he had some kind of clue. "He thinks he's the catalyst of the next pantheon of gods or something. Told me I'd see Destroyer twice before he was defeated, and that a weapon that will take a year to be forged by Hephaestus is needed to defeat him—wielded by a satyr."

  "A year?" She shook her head, expression revealing the same dismay he'd felt at the thought. That dragon could do so much damage in that amount of time. "No, you must be mistaken."

  Her disbelieving tone wouldn't do, so he sat to face her, righting himself and his pants along the way. "Look, I don't make the rules here."

  "Are you sure it was Dionysus and not someone pretending to be."

  Good question. Many of the gods had the power to change their form, and he hadn't considered before. Could it have been a deception? Chrys shook his head. "There's really no reason someone would go through the trouble of setting me up as CEO of his company in order to play this sort of trick on me. He sent me here through what I found in his files. I think it was really him."

  Myrine stood and pulled her pants back on, followed by her boots. "Then, I guess this is where we part ways for now."

  Whoa, that's it? He got up and took her hand in his. "Come with me. With the resources at Bach Industries, I can get you and the others set up in some nice condos, and we'll figure this out together until I learn more about this weapon. And your organization for women and children—let me help with that."

  She pulled her hand away. "You mean well, and I may see you when I travel back and forth to check on my affairs, but until this weapon is found, the vrykolakas are needed here in New Amazonia. Destroyer doesn't harass the villages around here—yet—because we interfere. Without us, there's no telling what destruction he'll bring about."

  "And when he leaves the area to look for satyrs or the Olympians to avenge his mother?"

  Horror clouded her eyes. "Do you think he will venture outward? He seems happy to return to hiding within the vastness of this jungle."

  "Dionysus seems to think he will." And quite frankly, so did Chrys. The creature would grow restless, driven by hate and revenge.

  Myrine looked away and sighed. "Well, then maybe we'll see each other again before a year is up. But my place is with my people." She held a hand over her heart. "It always will be."

  The finality in that statement hit him hard. Amazons were not known for long-lasting relationships with men. Chrys wasn't sure what he had expected to come from their little tryst, but he didn't want her to go.

  After she gave him back his phone and panpipes, a torch to light his way, as well as directions to the nearest village to get out of the jungle, he watched her walk away. Every cell in his body screamed at him to follow her. He knew, without a doubt, this was the woman meant for him. No, she wasn't a nymph, but he'd lived with his curse long enough to accept he wasn't going to ever break it. Unfortunately, his sense of responsibility was too strong and though he tried to make himself follow her, he couldn't.

  Still, his mind was made up. He could let her go, for now, but after Destroyer was dealt with and Theron was no longer a threat, he would do whatever it took to convince her that he was the man for her, and he'd love every minute of that challenge.

  18

  Adonis felt as though he'd been hit by a truck, which made perfect sense considering that's basically what happened. By some miracle, the van hadn't been going as fast as it could have been, so he hadn't broken a bone. Might as well have though since the soreness increased as time dragged on, as the bruises fought to heal. "Theron took our phones, and Calix's panpipes." Not that the flute mattered at the moment when it was past sunset. His hooves had ruined his shoes, and he felt shitty to have lost the panpipes the very day he started using them.

  Sage wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him tight. He hugged her back, gritting his teeth against the soreness, comforted by her presence even though he could strangle Pan for bringing her out there. What in all of Hades had he been thinking? Maybe, just maybe, she could evade the Boeotians, but letum? None of them had encountered them before and there was no telling what could happen.

  Pan handed Ariston his phone. "Call Melancton and have him and Zale meet us here." He turned back to Adonis. "Did you see how many letum they unleashed?"

  "Unfortunately, no. Got kicked in the face. Woke up to you lot fighting them off, but I am pretty sure they were in those vans over there." He pointed in the direction of the three vans with the rear doors wide open.

  "Wonderful," Pan said without enthusiasm. Ariston handed him is phone. "I'm going to take to the skies and look for trouble as I call Zeus. This might be more than we are capable of dealing with ourselves."

  Bypassing Hermes and going directly to the big guy? Adonis supposed it wasn't too outrageous considering that Zeus was Pan's grandfather. It felt strange not having Hermes around with his wisecracks and incessant chatter, and something told Adonis the god would enjoy finding and destroying letum.

  "Wait," he said, stopping Pan before he went invisible and unfurled his wings. "Take Ariston and Sage back to the inn first." He could flash them to safety and then the rest of the immortals could deal with the situation without distraction from ensuring they survived.

  "No way," Sage shouted, glaring at h
im as though he'd grown a second head.

  Ariston crossed his arms. "Not a chance."

  Pan turned to await his answer and Adonis' neck heated under the scrutiny of the three of them. "You're both mortal, and I don't want you to get hurt." Why was this difficult for them to accept? He wasn't trying to deny them glory or some shit. He wanted them to survive.

  "Not your call, brother," Ariston ambled over to him and patted his arm. "I make my own choices. But it is nice to see you thinking about others. You've changed, and maybe Dionysus and the Boeotians really were holding you back more than anyone knew."

  Uncomfortable, Adonis muttered a quick thanks, but the words meant more to him than he'd dare admit. Was Ariston going to attempt to reconcile with him despite all of his mistakes? He couldn't worry about that now though. Not until everyone was safe and the threat was dealt with.

  Zale and Melancton strolled up, yet Sage stayed rooted to the spot next to him, loosening and tightening her grip on a dagger. Fairly simmering with aggravation, she didn't pay the other satyrs any attention as they joined the group. "And I'm not leaving you. You might be immortal, but they still knocked you out and zombies tried to eat you."

  "They don't—" Adonis held his thumb and forefinger up to his nose and breathed in deeply. "They don't eat people, only their blood." He left out the part that they could fairly rip a man apart to get to said blood because, well, he didn't want to think about it much either.

  "They consume your blood like vampires then." Sage rolled her eyes. "What difference does it make?"

  Zale snorted and coughed to hide a laugh. "You aren't gonna win this argument, man. Save your dignity." Melancton, who had stayed quiet through this whole exchange, nodded in agreement.

 

‹ Prev