She was tall, six-foot-plus easily. Her overtly feminine figure was more than a little curvy. Heavy breasts that managed to look perky sat on her chest and her face was gifted with high cheekbones and an aristocratic nose. She reminded me of the perfect models I used to admire and envy before I died. Her arms and legs terminated in clawed talons, the length of kitchen knives. Great, feathery wings sprouted from her back. Despite all the attention I was giving the Fury, her mind was on other things. She was perched on the edge of the rock, hunched over the kill she held in her hands. Bright red blood surrounded her fanged mouth, dripping dark crimson drops across her breasts.
My heart pounded so hard, I feared it might explode. In the distance, I spied the shack where I first came across that damned crown, and a traumatic flash of cold washed over me. I could see Saxon’s face. He was clean-shaven and sweaty, just like the first time I met him. But his eyes were gone now, no more than empty holes of torn viscera and mashed eye juice.
I’m sorry, I thought. The words were useless now. They only existed in my head and Saxon would still be dead regardless.
I stepped toward the creature. Her jet-black hair reflected the dim light, even in the absence of a sun. The Fury’s eyes glittered with animalistic spark.
You really think you can convince a hell demon to help your friends escape? Persephone’s voice yelled at me.
I was increasingly weary of her nagging. The constant worrying about Alaire popping up from one of his many covert business trips and Persephone’s relentless taunting every time she managed to get a spot in my head had me at my wit’s end.
I searched my brain for an appropriate motivational quote but for once, I was at a loss. Then a doozy from Winston Churchill popped up. It was like a Poptart in a toaster. “If you’re going through hell, keep going,” I whispered. More applicable words couldn’t have been spoken.
“Uh, hi,” I said as I smiled. The beast’s head jerked toward me, tearing off a piece of raw flesh. Her tongue clicked while she scanned me with eyes that seemed too bright.
I swallowed hard, prying my eyes from the bloody remains of whatever unfortunate creature had crossed her path and become her prey.
“I want to…” I hesitated. Dammit, I was doing this all wrong.
She thinks I’m Persephone so I must act like Persephone. C’mon, Lily, it isn’t that hard!
“I… I demand that you come to me!”
The Fury dropped her dinner and assumed her full, impressive height, staring down at me from her beady eyes.
Shit… not a good sign.
Her wings flared out and batted the air, rushing a fresh gust of hot air towards me. A sound like a screeching hawk pierced the silence when she opened her mouth.
“I am your Queen! You will bow to me, lowly subject!” I tried to invest as much of the queen-bitch tone as I could into my sentence.
The talons on the Fury’s left foot scraped against the rock, indicating her agitation.
“Bow, this instant…Bow to me!” My voice cracked as I once again commanded the devil creature. With a swoosh of her mighty wings, she took to the air and soared straight at me. Her talons elongating, she slashed through the air with a hissing sound, barely missing my face. I reacted with a squeal as I fell back, ripping the backless black dress I put on before leaving the castle.
The Fury held its position in the air right above me, flapping her huge wings to keep airborne and stationary. Raising one hand over her head, her claws were pointed to deliver the final blow. I wanted to crawl away as fast as I could from this disaster and unintended confrontation. But the Fury wasn’t flinching so I didn’t dare make a move either.
Then, the sharpness of her features seemed to soften and she looked at me with morbid interest. All at once, she flapped her wings and landed directly in front of me, crouching down as she stretched out a paw to me. I braced myself for the searing pain of the razor-sharp talon piercing my skin but her claws instantly retracted and an amazingly soft paw caressed my bare shoulder. I was so taken aback by what I saw that I failed to form a cognizant thought for several long seconds.
The Fury canted its head and clicked her tongue before sticking it out to lick her bloody lips. I noticed the forked end on it. She dropped the kill that she held in her other hand and pushed it toward me, as if she were offering the carcass to me.
I looked down at the bloody, pulpy mess, swallowing down the flood of bile that climbed up my throat. I smiled at the Fury but took a step backward. So what if I’d eaten stuff like that in the Dark Wood? There was no way I could eat whatever the hell now was placed in front of me. Especially with all the drool dripping off it.
The Fury, unhappy at my rejection of her gift, howled before taking to the air. She let out another long shriek that chilled me to the core. Clearly, she was more than a little pissed. And maybe two seconds away from taking it all out on me.
Run, Lily, run!
I whipped around and got to my feet. Kicking the hooker pumps off, I sprinted back towards the castle. The wind howled in my ears whenever the flapping wings above me ceased to flutter.
You should have accepted her offering, Persephone’s voice scoffed at me, her malignance echoing in my mind.
“Shut… up…” I panted, forcing myself to go faster.
More flapping wings were followed by a burning sensation across my right shoulder. Then, before I could comprehend what was happening, I was off my feet and soaring through the air. Moments later, I found myself sprawled across the rocky ground. My shoulder burned in agony, and a sticky warmth began to spread across my neck and drip down the front of my dress. I tried to crawl forward and stand up. I was breathless, my lungs burning almost as badly as my shoulder. But seeing the castle gate just in front of me was enough to rekindle my hope.
The Fury howled above me as I turned to see where she was.
“Leave me alone!” I screamed, dropping all pretense of command. The Fury screeched as she dive-bombed me, wielding her claws and missing my spine by bare inches. I heard her slice the air with her razor claws as she screeched.
Just a few more feet and I would be home free. In the end, I literally fell through the gate, which automatically latched shut behind me. The Fury, denied her prize, circled the castle, calling out to me in her predator bird language. All I could do was lean against the stone wall and wince at the pain now radiating from my shoulder. It felt like a third degree sunburn. My first look at the damage nearly resulted in me fainting. A deep rift was split through the meat of my collar. Blood was oozing in slow but steady rivulets. I felt lightheaded. Whether it was from the blood loss or from observing the damage, I didn’t know. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I needed help… right now.
Tallis can help us, Persephone said, without the usual bitchiness in her voice.
For once, we were in total agreement.
###
“Ye did whit?!” Tallis lurched forward, his chains rattling as he stared at me wide-eyed.
“I know it was...” I started to explain. I hissed when a fresh jolt of pain shot through my shoulder. “I had to try.”
“Ye joost thought ye could walk oop tae ah Fury an’ convince her tae help ye?” Tallis looked at me with an incredulous expression that indicated what he thought of my plan. It was anything but a compliment.
“I guess… yes?” I asked in a mousey voice. It was true—I figured I could summon the Fury and make her transport the three of us as far away from this godawful place as we could be. But apparently, that wasn’t the case.
“Furies respect boot one thin’, Besom… that is strength.” He shifted a little in his bonds as he continued to glare at me in a critical manner. “Nae joost strength o’ body boot o’ soul. They moost have sensed the doubt in ye.”
I had to agree with Tallis on that point. There was certainly more than a little doubt in me. “I probably would have been less ‘in doubt’ if Persephone would just shut up. But she’s a constant thorn in my side.”
“Aye,” T
allis said as if he understood. Given what or who he’d kept inside him all those centuries, he most likely did.
“Tallis, how do I get rid of her?”
He took a deep breath as he shook his head. “Ah dinnae know, lass,” he sighed.
Then he flexed his fingers at me in a beckoning motion. “Come here, Besom. Let’s bind up the wounds.”
I moved closer to him, until he could reach my shoulder. It was a shame he still had to play the part of a prisoner but it was what it was. Soon enough, that would end. At least that was what I promised myself.
Tallis closed his eyes and muttered something in Gaelic as he rested his hand on my wound. Initially, it stung from the salt of his skin pressing against the gash in my collar. Then I began to feel the skin knitting itself back together, the muscles binding and strengthening. There was no pain after that.
In a few short moments, it was fully done. The blood on my dress was the only evidence that anything serious had ever happened. But even that was difficult to see, owing to the black fabric. Well, there was also blood on my neck and chest as well but that would wash away easily enough. I rotated my shoulder a few times. It seemed a little bit stiff but definitely workable.
Druid magic.
“Thank you, Tallis.” I leaned in and left a quick kiss on his bushy cheek. “It’s good to see you still possess your magic.”
“Aye, yer welcome, lass.” He opened his mouth to say something but stopped.
“What is it?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
“There is ah way tae git rid o’ Persephone once an’ fer all.”
Then he shook his head as if it were unthinkable. “Boot, nae,’tis too dangerous.”
“What is it?”
He shook his head again. “Forgit it, lass,” he said. “Ah regret bringin’ the soobject oop.”
“If there’s a way to get rid of her, Tallis, you have to tell me what it is,” I insisted.
He paused for a few heartbeats and then responded, “Donnchadh.”
“Donnchadh?”
“Aye, ye would have tae git Alaire tae give ye Donnchadh’s soul.”
I leaned against the wall, my eyes rolling around as I thought about the implications of his idea. “You mean, I’d have to be possessed by Donnchadh… but for real this time?”
“Aye.”
I shook my head and breathed in deeply as I considered it. “Okay, you’re right. That is dangerous. Forget I even asked.”
“Aye.”
Even as I spoke and bit my lower lip, I began replaying the possibility over and over again in my head.
“Is there a chance that Persephone could grow strong enough to take over my soul again?”
This time, his nod was reluctant. “Ah dinnae know fer certain boot Ah imagine eventually, aye.”
“But Donnchadh could force her down completely?”
“Aye, Donnchadh is a far stronger spirit.”
“Then,” I started to reply but Tallis cut me off with another shake of his head.
“I know what yer thinkin’, lass, an’ Ah regret ever suggestin’ it in the first place,” he said hoarsely. His tone was so terse, I jumped. “But ye couldnae handle Donnchad in ye, nae like ye did Persephone. Ah’ve spent whole lifetimes tryin’ tae rid mahself o’ him an’—”
“But could you rid him from me?”
Tallis’s mouth clamped shut at my question. He didn’t seem even slightly thrilled about that idea. But I could practically see the gears turning in his head as he digested it slowly.
“’Twould take time, boot aye,” he said slowly. “Ah could wrest him away from ye… boot only because he would willingly come back ta meh.”
I was afraid that was the endgame to all of this. Tallis finally had Donnchadh, the ancient warrior spirit that possessed his body for two thousand years, taken from him by Alaire’s strange magic. While I knew Tallis’s new humanity was both a blessing and a curse, the thought of Alaire using Donnchadh for his own ulterior ends was more terrifying than the idea of visiting the Fury again.
“Tallis… I would never ask you to take Donnchadh back, especially now that you’re finally rid of him. We can always find another way.”
“Nae, Lily,” Tallis murmured, looking up at me and locking his eyes on mine. “If it means the difference ‘atween ye bein’ free or ye bein’ ah slave tae Alaire forever more, Ah would gladly take Donnchadh a thoosand times over… on me new mortal life.”
I wanted to kiss him right then and there. And I would have too, were it not for the cell door suddenly swinging open and Alaire walking in.
Tallis stared at Alaire. Alaire stared at Tallis. I stared at Tallis. After a while, Alaire started staring at me. That’s when my lungs stopped working and my heart started pounding.
Did he hear our conversation? Any of it? All of it? Half of it? Most of it?
“Hello, my ravaged darling,” Alaire said casually. I must say he was extremely calm for someone who just walked in on his lover covered in blood while sitting exceptionally close to his arch-nemesis and prisoner.
“H… Hello,” I said softly, my voice sounding foreign even to my own ears.
“Are you feeling well?” he inquired, maintaining his icy stare on me. “Forgive me, but you look like you must have seen far better days.”
I breathed out deeply and refused to allow my fear to show despite my chattering teeth and shaking hands.
“Y…Yes, I’m fine,” I said in as piercing a tone as I could muster. I had to pretend I was Persephone, after all. “Surely even your dullest Watcher could have surmised that much.”
“What are you doing down here, covered in your own blood?”
I swallowed hard again. “I had a run-in with a Fury.” I glanced at Tallis. “And I got wounded seriously enough that I needed him to heal me but as I said before and I shall say again, I’m fine.”
Alaire scoffed as he glared down at me. “And why, pray tell, were you tangling with one of my Furies in the first place?”
“I would hardly call it ‘tangling’ with her,” I snapped, matching him scoff for scoff. Then I had to do or say something to stop any further questions. “I will admit having another reason for why I was down here with our prisoner,” I added, trying my best to channel Persephone without actually doing it.
I got to my feet and sauntered towards Alaire, putting on my most seductive face. “You’ve been gone so often and… well, I was feeling a certain urge…” I ran my hand down his chest suggestively. My throat was trying to dislodge the lump of bile that was aching to come out. Touching Alaire made me want to vomit. “You know how I get when I’m left unsatisfied.”
Alaire smirked, but yet again, his smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Well, then, do take some time to get cleaned up, my Queen. I must admit that I have missed you as well; and there is something I wish to discuss with you…”
He glanced over at Tallis before adding, “Alone.”
I nodded my head with the haughty, faux dignity I imagined Persephone would have displayed.
So do I.
Chapter Twelve
Lily
Alaire sat across from me at the dinner table and said nothing. Neither did I. From my memories of Persephone’s time with Alaire, they seemed to do that a lot. Unfortunately, I also knew what came after dinner. The thought of having sex with Alaire completely killed my appetite.
Alaire began rubbing his finger along the rim of his wine glass, and a ghostly tune filled the otherwise silent room. He was staring at me, or rather, he was staring at my chest. The dainty number he picked out to replace the dress that got ruined by the Fury pushed the definition of “clothing” to its absolute limits. Twin strips of fabric ran around my neck and over my breasts, barely covering my nipples, much less, anything else. The rest was an almost nonexistent skirt that barely spanned my lower parts.
My hair was coiffed in a perfect bun that displayed my neck, and I smelled like lilacs. If the bottle’s promise was true, my lady parts would ta
ste like rosewater when dined upon. Outside, I was the perfect picture of unbridled seduction. Inside, however, I was a perfect storm of nausea, nerves and doubt.
Of course, I debated wearing the hideous thing. As far as clothes went, it was about as close to “clothing” as Jack The Ripper was to a heart surgeon. But I had to convincingly play the part of an oversexed nymphomaniac. So here I was, dressed like a slut, hating every second of it despite its undeniable necessity.
“I must say, that dress looks even more stunning on you than I imagined it could,” Alaire said with his ever present smirk. I smiled from behind my wine glass, which seemed to cheer him.
“Thank you.” I said before taking a long sip.
“Did you manage to have relations with the prisoner?”
The sip of wine remained in my throat. I struggled to keep from doing a spit take. I set the glass down and leaned forward, stalling for time while I slowly swallowed the wine down. Images of Alaire’s furious jealousy and what it did to Saxon began to play like a movie behind my eyelids. There was no way in hell I would subject Tallis to the same. “No, we were… interrupted, as you may recall,” I answered, smiling at him sweetly. “Not that I minded the interruption, of course because you will always be my first choice... Our prisoner is a poor substitute,” I finished, wanting to stroke Alaire’s ego as much as I could so he wouldn’t take his jealousy out on Tallis.
He chuckled but I wasn’t sure what to make of the sound.
Meanwhile, all I could think about was time slipping through my fingers and the need to bring up Donnchadh. But how in the hell was I going to do that? From my previous foreign memories, I saw that Persephone was very persistent about acquiring the warrior’s soul for a long time. But, in response, Alaire only did what Alaire did best: deflect, dodge and smirk.
If I brought it up again, it could open a rift between Alaire and me, causing me to lose the chance to get what I needed. But if I didn’t bring it up…
Just do it, Lily, I thought in my own voice.
It was actually good to hear my own voice in my head for a change. Persephone had been somewhat quiet since my illicit meeting with Tallis. I didn’t know why she’d been so silent and frankly, I didn’t care. I was just glad she was. Regardless, my inner voice was right. I needed to bring this up and now.
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