by Holly Evans
Elise was kneeling before her altar when we slipped into her church. Her long pale hair flowed down her back, the pure white dress hugged her slight figure and hid her legs that were tucked beneath her. I felt as though I was intruding, and yet I walked as quietly as possible to the closest seat, bowed my head, and allowed the peace to wash over me. Praying was still a new sensation for me, something I wasn’t entirely comfortable with. I'd never felt the need before the hellmouth incident. I wasn't entirely sure I even knew how to pray, and yet, I did my best. I tucked my hands into my lap and asked the moon goddess to help and guide my hound, to watch over him and protect him. I couldn't shake the feeling that I couldn't do it alone, and I couldn't face losing him.
Lysander knelt by my legs on the stone floor, his head bowed and his shoulder gently pressed against my knee. His breathing settled into a slower rhythm, and his muscles began to relax. I couldn't help but wonder how the moon goddess felt about him, as an infernal beast. Elise had always spoken about her as a kind and loving goddess, a warrior with a beautiful soul. I hoped she was right, and that she'd watch over Lysander. I stroked his hair and embraced the sensation of sanctuary, allowing it to wash away my fears and concerns. I didn't know how, but everything would work out. It had to.
After some time, Lysander tensed a little, and I stood; we were both ready. Elise remained at her altar, head bowed. Concern riddled me. I hadn't known her to spend so long in such a position. We left the church without a word; she would tell us everything we needed to know when the time was right.
After a short while, when we started to re-enter the city, Lysander said, "Thank you Evelyn."
I reached up and brushed the back of his neck, allowing my fingers to linger on his collar. No words were necessary for the sentiment presented. He smiled, his muscles relaxed, and his steps lengthened a little. He was mine, and I'd never really learnt how to share, nor did I have any intentions of starting.
My breath caught in my throat, pressure formed on my chest, blazing heat surrounded me on every side. The dream felt so real, too real. I stood with flames at my back as I watched Lysander, yet he wasn't my Lysander. He carried two fearsome-looking blades coated in blood. His chest was bare, with fresh raw lines criss-crossing it. More marked his back. His expression was dark, he bared his teeth at a trembling young man who wept and fought against the metal restraints. Lysander grinned before he slowly dragged the tip of one of his blades down the man's stomach, drawing fresh blood. The man screamed and arched sideways, trying to pull away from the blade to no success. Lysander's expression turned to one of disdain. He plunged his blade deep into the man's stomach and pushed it upwards before pulling it back. The man choked and screamed before he died an agonising death, with Lysander watching in boredom.
The image flickered and twisted; this time Lysander beat a man to within an inch of his life while other hounds laughed and jeered. That man died a bloody, gruesome death mere moments later. It continued on. Lysander carrying out atrocious acts with no regret, no concern on his face.
I woke with a start. My heart thundered in my chest, and the feeling of betrayal wrapped around me. Lysander groaned softly and went to put his arms around me as he'd done many times before. I pulled away. I couldn't. The images were burnt into my mind, his lack of caring, the disdain at the weakness of the people he tortured and killed. There was no compassion, no empathy. He was a cold-hearted, brutal killer. I walked into the living room and tried to clear my mind, to come to terms with it. At a logical level I knew what he was, but he'd become a sweet, caring, loyal pet in my thoughts. The visage of the torturer was in direct opposition, and I couldn't accept it. I couldn't remain close to such a beast, a murderer. A marrok.
I watched the sun rise over the red rooves, a rose blush creeping along the horizon before the oranges burst upwards and the crisp blue reclaimed the sky. Lysander walked up behind me, his hands slipped around my waist, his face went to nuzzle my neck. I couldn't do it. I pulled away from him without a word and crossed my arms over my chest trying to protect myself. It was his past, I knew what he was, but seeing it in that form added another dimension to the entire thing. Somehow, it made it more real.
"Evelyn?" he asked softly.
"I saw some of your memories last night," I said in barely more than a whisper.
Tears prickled my eyes. I took a deep breath and willed them to go away. I was stronger than that.
"Evelyn, please."
His hand ran down my back.
"I'm going for a shower," I said.
I couldn't face him. His pain echoed through my bracelet, it shimmered around the edge of my vision. I needed time, and space.
The hot water scalded my cool skin, but it didn't wash away the emotion. I scrubbed every inch of myself in butterscotch-scented shower gel, trying to remove all trace of him. It didn't work. The screams, the desperate whimpers, remained etched in my thoughts. A glance in the mirror confirmed the haunted expression to my eyes. He was still my hound, I tried to remind myself, to cling on the things he'd done since he'd become mine.
"Everything ok, Evie?" Quin called from the kitchen.
I gave him a half-smile. "Sure, breakfast done?"
He grinned at me. "Two minutes."
I pulled on the closest clothes to hand; it didn't matter what I looked like as long as they fulfilled the job of covering my body and offering some protection. I picked up my plate of waffles and sat at the small table, where I picked at them.
"Kadrix apologised, we had a good talk actually. Elves have a very different view on relationships to us, did you know that? They're pretty enlightened actually."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Sounds like he's trying to con you."
He frowned before he forced a smile. "He really makes me happy. I want to try, for him."
"Is he trying for you?" Lysander asked.
Quin bit his bottom lip and looked away. "He does, in his way."
I continued to pick at my waffles. He was happy enough. It wasn't perfect, but then it was never going to be. Elves weren't like humans. He should have fallen for a nice human. Male or female, it didn't matter.
"Love is a funny thing, it rarely worries itself with social boundaries," Lysander said with a growl.
I ignored him. I couldn't do it.
Quin looked between us and said, "So... what did Evie do this time?"
Lysander's mouth quirked into a smile. "She saw my past."
Quin's brow furrowed, his put his elbows on the table and leant his chin on his hands.
"How did that happen? What was it like?"
I glared at him. "It was much like a dream, and I don't know, I'd rather not discuss it."
His face fell, but he let it drop. "Oh, I have the details of another hedgewitch you could talk to, he's better connected than the other one."
"Kadrix does have his uses,” I muttered.
"He's expecting you at ten," Quin said
"Are you not coming?"
"I'm almost done with my experiment,” he said absent-mindedly. "Lysander will be with you."
That was what I was afraid of; I didn't want more time alone with him, with those memories.
The hedgewitch was in Florenc, the geographical heart of the city. The area around the metro bustled too much for my tastes; it was a hub, with the international bus station not far away and a meeting ground for both metros and trams. I'd thrust my hands down into my pockets and marched down the path towards the more open, green part of the district. I wove my way between the people as they watched their phones and gazed idly into shop windows. Lysander remained a few steps behind me, his mood dark. Thoughts swirled around my mind, regrets and concerns mingled with desires and needs. I knew that I'd brought it on myself, but that didn't make it any easier to bear.
I double-checked the address that Quin had given me as I looked at the plain white wall, the purple heather perched on the external window sill. It sat neatly between two far more traditional buildings, with their ornate pla
sterwork and faces staring down at us with peculiar serenity. I opened the modern white door and stepped into a bright and airy space with white walls and white-washed wooden flooring. The shelves were carefully stacked with brightly coloured hardback books and powders displayed in elegant bottles with twists and ornate stoppers. The floor space was optimised, with only a couple of large tables, each with arrangements that clearly displayed all of the wares. I looked around, wondering if I'd fallen through a portal to a different time or country.
A broad man with a sparkling smile and thick straw-blond hair approached us. I couldn't help but notice the slight sway to his hips and the way his lips were a soft blush colour; how I wanted to run my fingers along them before I kissed him. His navy blue shirt hugged his muscular form, the rolled up sleeves displaying his strong arms. I chewed on my bottom lip; the visit was looking up. Lysander growled behind me. I took a step towards the man and smiled.
"Lucian?" I said hopefully.
His smile broadened as his placed his hands on my shoulders and leaned down to give air-kisses on either side.
"And you must be Evie,” he said.
Lysander kept shifting his weight behind me, growls rumbling in his throat.
I ran my hand up over Lucian's arm. "Did Quin say why we're here?"
I couldn't help but fall into his pale brown eyes; I was about ready to break my own rule about not sleeping with anything magical. I'd heard delightful things about witches and their quite literal magical touch, too.
His mouth tightened a little, but his eyes danced. “Your brother? Said that you're here to speak about the new witch in the city."
I grinned and ran my tongue over my lips. "He's my brother, yes. Do you happen to know anything?"
Lucian gestured towards a set of padded stools around a small table at the front of the shop. "Would you like some tea?"
"Just water, thanks," I replied.
He may have been sexy as sin, but he was still a witch; there was no reason to risk anything unnecessary.
Lysander refused to take a seat, leaving me dangerously close to Lucian as I leaned my forearms on the table and watched him closely. He smiled and placed his hands on the table on either side of mine. He hadn't even acknowledged Lysander's presence.
"There is a new witch in the city, a rather unusual thing, as it happens."
I tilted my head a little, listening to the lyrical nature of his voice and the unusual accent. There was a distinct musicality about it that I couldn't quite place; it wasn't local. I quickly concluded it didn't matter where he came from as long as he continued to talk. I slipped between his words and reveled in the pleasure buried in the notes.
"She came to the city entirely alone, without a coven."
I sat up a little taller; as far as I understood it, witches were intimately connected to their covens and their bloodlines. For a witch, particularly one strong enough to concern the celestials, to move alone was unheard of.
Lucian's fingers brushed my temple. "You shouldn't frown like that, you'll get wrinkles."
"You never gave us the water," Lysander growled.
I smiled sweetly and squeezed Lucian's hand as he pulled it away. "No worry, we can survive. You were telling us about the new witch."
His hand paused with mine. A small electrical current ran between us. So what they’d said about the magical touch was all true. I shifted my weight, trying to focus on the task at hand.
“I’m sure you’re aware that the coven witches are very attached to their covens. They bond early in life, and it takes a lot to break those bonds. I’m afraid I don’t know much more.”
“That was still helpful, thank you,” I said.
Lysander muttered something under his breath.
Lucian pulled out a notebook and made a show of writing his number down for me. “I’d love to see you again, Evie.”
I ran my fingers over the back of his hand when I took the piece of paper. “I’m sure we can arrange something.”
With that I stood and left. Lysander was out the door before I’d turned to look for him.
"Was that really necessary, Evelyn?"
I crossed my arms and leaned back against the wall; I wasn't moving until everything had been resolved.
"I could ask you the same thing,” I growled back.
"You have no interest in non-humans, why is he so different?"
I took a deep breath and calmed myself. "This is not a public discussion."
He ground his teeth together, but gestured towards the tram stop. “Then let us go home."
I pushed off from the wall and headed to the tram stop; the conversation was bubbling away within me, and there was no escaping it that time.
Lysander sat in the seat behind me on the tram. I looked out the window and watched the city go by. People wandered down the streets and looked in the windows, admiring the latest fashions and delicious-looking foods; it looked so simple for them. The tram lurched to a stop. Everyone groaned when the driver hit the brakes for the second time in as many minutes. I had to assume that it was his last route of the day, given his erratic driving, for lack of a better term. Not that that helped my mood any. An older woman tried to push past me on my way off the tram, almost knocking my balance. By the time I opened the gate, my mood was darker than the incoming storm, which seemed very fitting as Lysander growled and grumbled behind me.
I slammed the door behind us and threw off my boots, the soft thud of them hitting the wall only punctuating Lysander's huffing.
"Speak, hound,” I snapped.
"I have done nothing wrong," he shouted back.
He was right, I knew he was, but I didn't know how to express it. He paced around the living room area, his fingers dragging through his thick black hair, his muscles tight and his gait short and sharp.
"I have done all I can to make you happy, and you pull away, you deny me, for what? Because I am the wrong species? I feel your emotions, your desires, and you still drive me away. Then, you openly lust after a witch!"
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. "The witch is still a human, not a beast."
His flinch stung me.
"I drive you away because I'm scared, I'm terrified. I do not know what I'm supposed to do with you! I have never known a happy relationship, I separated myself from the world to protect it. To protect Quin. Then you came along!"
Tears tumbled down my cheeks.
"I am not to blame for your decisions, Evelyn."
"I cannot help my fear, Lysander. I saw what you did."
His hands wrapped around my upper arms. "And you saw what I have done with and for you. You cannot hold my past against me." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Please."
My legs trembled, the weight of the world heavy upon my shoulders. The regret of my decisions, of the path I'd carved for myself weakening my increasingly weary muscles. He held me close to him, his arms gentle around me, keeping me safe as the tears fled down my cheeks and leapt off my jaw.
"I can't lose you. I can't have my heart broken again. I am weak, I couldn't survive it. It almost killed me with Christian."
He pulled back from me a little and delicately brushed the tears from my face. “I swear to you, Evelyn, I would never do that to you."
"I need time, and space. I'm not ready. I need to clear my head, I need to figure myself out. Give me that."
He rested his chin on the top of my head. "I'll be waiting for you."
I sighed and leaned into him, embracing the security and sanctuary he offered me.
Softly he asked, "And the witch?"
I couldn't look him in the eye. "I won't deny that I am attracted to him, that I would sleep with him given the chance."
He simply nodded and kissed my forehead. "I understand, as best as I can."
He stepped back and brushed away the last of my tears. "I'm going for a run, mistress."
With that, he left. I was alone with my thoughts, the emotions roiling within me. Why couldn't anything be simple?
The sensation of my heart breaking returned to me as I remembered finding Christian in bed with the nymph. I'd thought he was the one, my other half, the one who completed me. Yet he'd thought nothing of throwing it all away. I knew the hound could speak no lie, not to me, but that didn't mean he could see the future. He thought he'd never do that to me, but he didn't know. Not really.
The feeling of intense loneliness settled over me. Quin was with Kadrix, Elise was in her church, and my hound, my dear hound, was running through the city. I gazed out the window to see the dark sky throwing rain down upon the city as though punishing it for my deeds, my mistakes. Taking a deep breath, I pulled myself together and retrieved the witch's number from my pocket. I needed to escape, to lose myself in something pleasurable. I had no interest in getting drunk, but him, I knew I could lose myself in him. He replied within seconds, eager to see me again, or so he said. It was set. The decision made.
I went through the motions of making myself pretty. Not that it mattered, really, we both knew what we were meeting for. Eyeliner and red lipstick wasn't going to change that one way or the other, but the act of it soothed me. I was putting on my mask for the world, for him. Really, I was putting it on for myself. I was hiding from what I was doing. I didn't remember the last time I'd worn so much make-up, and it was wonderful.
The journey went by in a blur, my mind sharp and focused on the witch's smile. We went through the shop in a haze of intense kisses that burnt down my neck while his hands explored my body. His muscles were taut beneath my fingers, his skin smooth and soft. We made it to the hallway before I made short work of his shirt, discarding it on the wooden floor. The need built within me, kisses turns to bites, I clawed down his firm back while he threw my skirt on the stairs beneath us. Fire burnt up through my core, pleasure filled my mind, and everything else faded to nothing.