By the Horns

by Jeanette Lynn

Baby? Yeah, definitely not my bull in the driver’s seat.

  I made to step closer, eyes on him evenly. “I know,” I told him, not bothering with this charade a moment longer. “I want to talk to Kvigor, and I want to know why.”

  “You are,” the large bull rumbled out quietly. His face twinged as if he was pained and he groaned, his head jerking to the left randomly. He was all twitches and grunts. Was he fighting Puck’s possession?

  Realizing I wouldn’t be jumping into his arms through the bars, he pulled his hands back until his fingers could curl around the twisted iron. They immediately started smoking.

  “Why?” My hand slid over his, closing around his flushed knuckles. His hands flexed and he grunted, teeth gritted, jaw clenching and unclenching. His nose ring was noticeably missing.

  “He promised me he’d help you,” he managed to choke out. Gripping the bars, his head shook wildly, knees buckling as he huffed and puffed through a closed-mouthed grimace. Groaning, his head dropped, his horns, resting against the gate, holding his head.

  “He lied. There was nothing he could’ve done. It was... It was all in the All-father’s hands.”

  “Of course it was,” the hand mine rested on flipped, trapping mine against the gate. The pain was instantaneous, searing, as if my flesh was being burned with a hot iron. As I gasped, sucking in lungfuls of air, his horned head lifted, purple eyes crinkling at the corners as a nasty smile pulled across his face. My lover’s face holding Puck himself gazed down upon me.

  “Already marked you, did he? And my queen thought he hadn’t the dick to go through with it. Good for him.” Fingers closed around my wrist, his grip viselike. He could hurt me if he so chose. I’d be dead in seconds.

  Puck in a Kvigor bodysuit jerked, groaning. “He’s proving more of a nuisance than he’s worth. Always fighting, this one.” His eyes narrowed on me and he yanked, forcing my arm through the bars until my face was almost pressed up against them. “Makes me think of you, you spineless mortal.”

  “Fuck you, you pus filled boil on my arse.”

  “Mighty words from an ugly beastie. That’s what he thought of you, when he wasn’t thinking of pounding that sweet little cunt. How ugly, how hairless, yet he couldn’t seem to help himself.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Truth.” Purple eyes started to swirl with red, glittering and he tapped his temple. “He feels guilty about it, about everything, and, darling,” he made a show of inhaling deeply and sighing, “we know, we can smell it, faint and fading but still there, the sex on you.”

  “Ridiculous,” I bluffed, snorting.

  That sickly sweet, domineering smile fell. “Then you denied his lordship, hmm?” He gestured to the smoke. “Then what of this, hmm?”

  “Just lucky, I guess?” As fast as it had begun burning me, it had stopped, leaving me numb to my own smoking flesh. The iron smoke was even slowly dissipating. Was that my token gift? The ability to build an immunity to iron? Or was Puck effectively burning what little fae had touched me out of me?

  Leaning in close, he gripped the hem of my gown, jerking the open neck, my head slamming into the gate, making me cry out. Trying to avoid burning my face, my arm beginning to smoke again steadily at this new, sudden contact, I hissed through gritted teeth.

  The skin of my arm smoked wildly, the stench of burning flesh rending the air.

  Lips curling up in disgust, he spat in my face, “Why will you not just die already?! Save us all the troubl- l-l-l- Ahhhhh-Don’t listen to him!” he began to shout, and doubled over. Gripping his head, he snarled, body whipping this way and that, then started choking.

  Sucking in a sharp breath as he released me, stumbling back, I was caught right as I began to fall.

  “I’ve got you, vacha.”

  Adelric.

  The dark-furred Minotaur caught me with ease, righting me, adjusting my shawl. I turned to face him then, limbs trembling.

  “Your eyes,” he whispered, swiping the tears from them with his thumbs.

  “The fence, it- it hurts, burned.”

  “No.” A sharp shake of his head. “Your eyes.”

  It was hard to concentrate, the throbbing in my head from the blow leaving my forehead pounding in unbearable pain. “What about my eyes?” I gritted out, wanting nothing more than to forget all of this ever happened and crawl back into bed. But I was cold in bed, and felt so fucking alone. Always so fucking alone.

  “They’re tipped in gold.”

  “Mark of the beast, the All-father, your precious cow fucker himself.” A snicker and a sneer. “He’s marked his precious, butt arsed ugly wingless, given her gifts in exchange for a good fuckin’.” The monster riding around in Kvigor chuckled darkly. “We all know that’s all she’s good for.” Raking his gaze up and down his shorter counterpart’s thick frame, he gave a sniff. “Well, those of us who actually engage in the finer delicacies life has to offer would know.”

  “You never should have accepted him, Kvigor.” I spoke to the male who truly belonged in there, knowing if he was up and fighting, he’d hear me. “There was always another way.” My hand waved. “Never this.”

  “She’s like a pig, a pale, rotund creature that squeals when you press your cock to her sweet, dripping hole and fuck it. Will greedily accept any scraps you’re willing to give.”

  Having my fill of this insanity, I turned to stumble away.

  Yet again Adelric played the knight, scooping me up to carry me off. I didn’t know how I felt about it anymore, knowing he wished to touch me, hold me, using this as an excuse, knowing he was doing so only under the misguided idea no one would be none the wiser to him.

  “Beron the pig fucker,” Puck called, cackling.

  “She didn’t fuck him,” Adelric said with a nonchalant shrug and began walking.

  Looking to him sharply, I frowned.

  Something flickered in his gaze as it met his possessed sibling’s. Lifting his chin, eyes flashing, the Tauran admitted, “She fucked me.” And with that, leaving everyone collectively spluttering, he took off.

  “You don’t mean that!” Kvigor shouted, and this time I wondered if it was him again. “Adelric!” he called. “You do not mean that!”

  The dark-furred Tauran’s response was a grunt.

  “Adelric?!” Kvigor’s voice broke. “You will come back here and tell me you don’t mean that! Bring her back to me! Adelric!!” A sharp gasp, the sound of the white bull sucking in lungfuls. He was fighting the possession, fighting Puck’s hold. I feared it was too late for him now. He’d already given over.

  My heart dropped, sinking deep within me until it felt like just another rock in the pit of my stomach, a heavy weight bearing down on me.

  The bellowing roar that followed us as the ex-enforcer tromped down the hall, had me cringing, inside and out.

  “You shouldn’t have taunted him like that.”

  “I wasn’t taunting him,” the bull headed beast replied.

  “Peacock won’t take it as a taunt.” He’d take it as a challenge. “And why should he care other than to use it against me at some later point? If anything, you’ve just painted an “Ax me here” sign on your back.”

  “It will work.” He sounded so certain, disgustingly confident.

  “You really shouldn’t be picking me up to carry me around constantly like this.” I pointed out the obvious, changing the subject. “People will talk. What will they think?” I parroted in a mocking, scandalized tone.

  “It will work,” he continued, as if I hadn’t just called him out. “Kvigor won’t be able to control himself at all now, jealous, raging. He never was one to share. The demon residing in Kvigor will find his new vessel next to useless, his borrowed body fighting to be rid of him.” The dark beast paused, waiting for that to sink in.

  “With Puck hanging on, the temple is lost to him,” I finished. If Kvigor was desperate enough to enter, the stubborn male would fight him tooth and nail.

  Adelric’s lips lifted in a half
smile and he nodded. There was something mischievous to the twinkle in his eyes, a maliciousness I found in myself. “The demon thinks us all his possession. With Ekodar struggling to rule on his own without help and the creature inhabiting others, too busy wrestling Kvigor for dominance, things should prove... interesting.”

  “Oh, you are evil.” My smile matched his until he spoke again.

  “And I will lift you whenever I wish, to cart you around as I please, and you’ll allow it.”

  “I will?” This was news to me. “And others?” I prompted haughtily.

  Chagrin fell across the Minotaur’s somber face, his smile and twinkling eyes nowhere to be found. “Old habits are the hardest to break.”

  “My father had the same idea, which is why he thought to beat the ones out of us he thought might prove problematic early on.”

  The bull of a beast stiffened. “No one is beating anyone.”

  At my dubious look he scowled harder.

  “Anymore. By any means.” His brow fell, shame washing over his countenance.

  I’d struck a nerve, my parental reprogramming attempts triggering thoughts of the things he’d done for his chief, no doubt, my whipping tree taming included.

  A snarl tearing from his lips, his hands tightening on me until they pinched, he ground out, “I’ll rend the limbs from any male stupid enough to try, and then beat him with them.”

  “Good to know.” I wasn’t impressed. Let it actually happen and then I’d believe it. The pool scene was still so fresh in my mind. To claim or not to claim, and own it—me—that was the question.

  “You do not believe me.” His eyes sought out mine but I wouldn’t meet his questioning gaze.

  When he stopped in his tracks and waited, I shrugged. “Can you blame me?”

  “No.” He began walking again.

  “This isn’t the way to my room.” My head was still throbbing something fierce, my hand going to my forehead to find two lumps from the bars smacking my face. The skin was tender to the touch, pain shooting to my temples to wrap around my eyes with every simple, prodding touch.

  My hands fell and I dropped them back to my lap, wincing.

  “Painful?”

  “Yes.” Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes.

  “I might have something for it.”

  An eyelid cracked and I peeked up at him. “And these two?” My arms lifted, showcasing strips of blistered, snow white burns bubbling my flesh.

  “Yes.”

  “In your room?” My tongue clucked.

  He gave a grunt of an answer.

  “I didn’t agree to room with you,” I pointed out.

  His jaw worked, mouth moving, teeth clacking. “I don’t recall asking you, demon pixie.”

  Cockiness, thy name is Adelric.

  Lifting up, I glanced over his shoulder, peering down at his ass, the well-shaped, defined globes clenching and unclenching as he walked, his tail, trapped in the confines of his k’h se, wiggling like an anxious puppy’s.

  He was enjoying our banter.

  “What are you doing, pestilence?” that deep voice rumbled gruffly. That squashed tail wagged harder. Stifling a grin, I sat back.

  “Just checking.” Giving his shoulder a short pat, I settled back into his arms. Putting my hands in my lap, my fingers curled together in a tight clasp.

  “Checking for what?”

  “Peacock feathers,” I quipped.

  He snorted. “Hah. Hah.” Then he snorted again. “Think ye funny, eh?”

  “Sometimes.” Ignoring the screaming shouts of my unbound, the noise heartrending, melancholy stealing over me at Kvigor’s fate, I glanced away.

  I didn’t care the reasoning, he never should have accepted Puck.

  Wiggling my way closer, my hand went to Adelric’s heart, the only thing familiar and comforting to me anymore, knowing full well I was probably making another mistake in yet a long string of them but unable to help myself, I relaxed into him. My face cushioned on a flat pectoral and I let out the longest sigh.

  “It’ll be alright, demon,” Adelric promised, bussing the top of my head with his snout.

  But would it?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I slept in late, waking to the sound of others moving about. Adelric was nowhere to be found, an empty bottle of baidle berry wine hugged to my stomach. With a groan I lifted up, scrubbing at my face. He’d been right, it had numbed the pain. The smelly paste he’d rubbed into my wounds after he’d gotten me good and sauced left my burns black but flat, aching but no blistering in sight. I’d been numbed to the point I couldn’t feel anything, let alone my face, then, after that a thorough douse of paste, promptly passed out. Dreams of demons and bulls and fairy men had chased me, riding me until I woke with a start.

  My head was pounding double-time, mouth dry. My head felt fuzzy, like it was stuffed with cotton. The soreness in my arm drew my gaze again, the black marks marring my skin, scorch marks from the iron gate, a reminder of last night.

  Eyes straying about the room, I noted his sword on the wall, above the bed, strategically placed just in case he needed it at a later date, or should someone think to ambush him while he rested. Who would be dumb enough to try, I didn’t know. Someone with a death wish?

  Kvigor popped into my head first. Had he found a way out of his dealings with Puck? He’d said he’d never do something so foolish again, hadn’t he, and yet he had. “Impulsive, ridiculous,” I muttered, slipping to the edge of the bed to stand.

  There was a chill in the air, sending gooseflesh pebbling my skin. Spotting the colorful blanket I’d just slipped out from, I grabbed it, pulling it around me. Vibrant, lively colors, rich reds, royal purples, mixed with striking golds and bits of black. More importantly, the thick weave was warm and smelled like the male I’d shared a bed with last night. At least, I was almost positive we’d shared sleeping quarters.

  Trying to recall any details from last night, I frowned, then felt the pinch. The knots on my forehead itched as badly as the rest of me, maybe worse. The skin felt pulled tight, uncomfortably so.

  “That gate must’ve burned me there, too,” I muttered, even if the contact had been much more minimal than my arms’. Making to move forward, I was a little unsteady on my feet.

  A shock of brown, a familiar rucksack I’d sewn myself sitting in the far corner of the room, sandwiched between a small pile of crates, stacked with the male’s belongings and a miniscule end table. Elated, rushing towards it, I flopped down, my legs tucking beneath my ass, to yank the bag free from its hiding place.

  Right here all along, I thought, loosening the ties to dig through the bag’s contents. “My boots,” I whispered, pulling them out, shaking my head.

  Glancing down at my bare feet, I set the boots aside. I didn’t need them this moment, but I was sure they’d come in handy.

  Everything else seemed to be there, but as my hand rummaged around the bottom, I slumped dejectedly. My knife, the one not currently being held hostage by Puck, was gone.

  Adelric wasn’t wearing it... Maybe it was hidden elsewhere?

  Ready to go find out, I stopped first in my room, stowing my bag safely under the lumpy bed in my assigned room.

  Communication, we needed a bit of it, my bull companion and me. Maybe I’d tell him I’d retrieved my things.

  As I reached the end of the short hall that led to the dark pool, I heard voices. Hanging back, I listened, tiptoeing forward. Peering around the corner, I found Yhem, Adelric’s man, seated at the table, talking animatedly. His hands moved, a roll in his meaty fingers, his plate overflowing with vegetables and a clumpy scoop of Vachel’s yarmishe.

  Maybe someone should offer him the left over roasted buttholes from the other night. It was an unkind thought, but not without merit. The way the male was stuffing his face in-between talking and breathing, I got the impression he’d eat just about anything. Judging from his size, he probably did.

  “Vacha,” Adelric called without bothering
to toss me a glance. His hand lifted and he motioned me over, his horns perilously close to Yhem’s snout when the yak-man-otaur’s head lifted suddenly as he leaned forward, ready to heap more grub onto his plate.

  “Vacha?” Yhem quirked an eyebrow. “And what does Vachel think about resigning title as-”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Adelric cut in as I slid out from hiding and quietly came forward. “If she ever comes out from moping around temple and pouting, you could ask her.” A thick horned head turned, bronze and amber eyes focusing on me. “They are more golden today.” He paused a moment too long on my forehead before his eyes caught on the blanket.

  “I was cold and you weren’t there when I awoke, I-” My eyes darted to Yhem, who was watching us intently, as I started blurting. “I, ah...”

  “Good morn, Taurans!” Vachel called cheerfully, surprisingly chipper. Practically skipping to the table, she paused when she spotted me. Her gaze strayed to my eyes, then my forehead, as well, making me feel slightly self-conscious.

  My hands went to the knots gracing my face but I knew better than to try and touch them. They hurt just thinking about them.

  “And demon pixie,” the spry youth added. Ignoring her mother’s rebuke, she grabbed a plate and a spoon to plop into the vacant seat next to Yhem.

  “Don’t call her that,” Adelric paused mid-conversation with Yehm to grumble at his sibling.

  The smile tugging her lips widened when I laughed and inclined my head.

  Vachel wasted no time digging in, filling her plate to shovel a big spoonful to her mouth. “Those are new,” her spoon lifted when she paused from inhaling her breakfast, waving about my face, “fancy.”

  “Fancy?” I blinked, uncomprehending. Was she talking about my eyes? The piercings? Confused, I looked to everyone gathered, Suzaela and a few females I didn’t know, all wearing similar gold and purples in their k’h ses, the customary temple trinket of gold and black bull ring adorning their noses. The group had paused collectively, all eyes turning towards us.

  “You are fine, vacha. Sit,” Adelric instructed, motioning me over.

  Grateful when eyes slowly slid away and things resumed their chatty, scoop, shovel pace, I relaxed.