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Sixx and the Incubus: The Sidekick Chronicles

Page 16

by Becca Vincenza

I stayed by Olezka’s side. His chest rose and fell steadily, but he still didn’t wake, and he didn’t stop bleeding. He should have been healing, but he wasn’t. Worse than that, no matter what I did, I couldn’t get a twitch or even a murmur of response. Key had mentioned drugging him, but I didn’t know with what. My tears were dry by the time Kallan showed up with a team.

  “What the hell happened here?” a voice echoed in the recesses of my mind.

  “It smells like rage, magic, and blood. This is the last place we had record of where Z’s tracker flared.”

  “Let’s hope he wasn’t part of his carnage.”

  “Fuck.” Someone cursed, and it echoed as footsteps pounded closer.

  “Sixx!”

  Someone called my name multiple times, but it sounded like an echo, stifled and bouncing around, over and over. Cool hands touched my face and forced me to look away from my mate. When I blinked, the face in front of me morphed.

  Sharp features. Straight nose, eyes more orange than red like a fire at the height of its intensity. Dark hair, younger but with the unmistakable echoes of Olezka.

  Olezka.

  I tried to look down at him. The hands holding my face shook me.

  “I think she might be in shock, but she’s not cold. She’s burning up.”

  “You can’t smell it?” another voice said.

  “What?”

  “They’ve mated. She smells like his fire. She has his scent. She’s not cold because she is burning up. Her body is going through a change,” someone explained, but the words felt empty, and I felt lost.

  “Is he…” I croaked, my mouth dry.

  “Kroshka, he is alive. He is. He would never leave his mate behind,” Timur’s deep voice came from behind me. He touched my shoulder gently.

  “Shit, sorry, Sixx. I should have started with that. We’re going to take him back to the Veil. They injected him with something that’s slowing his healing, but Erebus has healers that can help the process along,” Roman explained.

  I think I nodded. I believe I allowed Timur to help me stand while Roman and another man came forward to lift Olezka. I made a sound of discontentment when he groaned loudly. I reached out for him, but Timur held me back.

  “He is fine, cестра,” Timur promised.

  What happened next was a blur. I was barely conscious for any of it. Timur placed me in a car and scooted me close to Olezka, and I held his hand. My head was a complete mess. Everything felt scattered. I felt like I should be telling them everything that had happened, but each time I opened my mouth, all I could think of was the memory of Olezka face-down on the sandy floor of a fighting ring.

  “Sixx.” Someone touched my hand.

  I jerked, blinking rapidly at the familiar face above me. “Huh?”

  “We have to walk to the portal to the Veil,” Timur explained kindly.

  My brows bunched in confusion as I tried to sort out Timur’s words, but when Roman got out of the car, I did the same. Wrapping his brother’s arm over his shoulder, he hauled him out of the car, and the other man who came with us to help did the same. Olezka’s feet dragged along the ground, his head lolling against his chest.

  “Why won’t he wake up?”

  “He will, kroshka. You’re both in a period of transition. He shouldn’t have agreed to the mission, but he thought it was the best way to get you out of the deal you made with the incubus.”

  A stab of guilt hit me hard in my chest. Oh, God, they don’t know about Cyril or Illarion. My breath caught as we moved into the woods beside where we’d parked. Timur kept a firm hold on my arm, leading me.

  “Erebus will be on the other side, waiting for you with some of his men. It should be a quiet entrance, but Kallan informed us that he’d seen evidence of a High Fae who could create portals into his land. If they manage to get to the border, you might run into some trouble.”

  As we passed through a particularly wooded area, a buzzing sensation started crawling over my arms and slowly spread throughout my body.

  “We are close to the Veil,” Timur explained. I nodded. “Are you alright, Sixx?”

  I shook my head yes, but I knew I wouldn’t be okay until Olezka woke up.

  ****

  During our walk, Timur and Roman explained that I might not be able to stay conscious for the journey leading up to the gate. It was sort of a fail-safe in case humans accidentally stumbled upon it on their own. They didn’t know if I would be able to withstand it now due to my ‘changes’, of which they still wouldn’t divulge the details. All I knew was that either the fae’s failsafe worked, or exhaustion finally caught up with me because I was walking one minute and woke with my head cushioned on a strong chest the next.

  Warmth radiated against my cheek, and I rubbed my face closer against the heat I recognized well. I waited for him to take the deep breath that indicated he was awake. Usually, if I woke up first, he was quick to follow. But in my exhaustion, it took a moment for the night’s events to hit me.

  I peeled away from him and sat up, twisting around to look at his face. The broken nose had been set, and the bruises had diminished significantly, but several still lingered in light patches along his face, neck, and chest. I leaned over and brushed my fingers over his cheek gently. His nostrils flared as if taking in my scent, but he still didn’t wake.

  “It’s good you are awake. You should eat,” Erebus’s cold voice pierced the room.

  I twisted around to see him leaning against the doorway. “Are we back in the Veil, at your palace?”

  The Dark Fae King nodded. “It was the safest place for both of you. I had sent Timur over to bring you two back anyway. I have news about Anastasia.”

  Oh, God. I felt my stomach plummet with his words. I hadn’t forgotten about the situation in which Ana was embroiled. Hell, it was the whole reason Key wanted me – for leverage. But I’d selfishly set her aside for Olezka. Even now, it was hard for me to think of anything past his injuries, though I needed to tell him everything I had learned.

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s being treated very much like the princess she is. Do not fear for her current wellbeing but rather her future. The Light Fae King has formally invited my human mate and me to attend the presentation of his long-lost daughter.” Erebus gave me a significant look.

  I jerked back in surprise; my face was plastered with disbelief. “Excuse me, what now?”

  “Da, what?” a hoarse voice growled behind me. He sounded weak, but he was finally awake. I flipped around, my arms flailing as I tried to wrap them around him. Instead, I ended up knocking him in the face. He gently grabbed my other arm before I could inflict more damage.

  “Easy, my priyatel.”

  I practically sobbed at hearing him call me his mate. A warmth filled me that I hadn’t even realized was left dormant and cold. Not even cold but frozen, icy to the touch. He melted it away with one word, one look. Heat twisted in his gaze and even more so when he checked over my body.

  “You are safe?”

  “I wasn’t the one in the fighting rings.”

  Olezka brought his hand up and cupped my cheek. His calloused fingers were rough against my soft skin, but it was a reminder that he was touching me. He was alive.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, pressing my cheek deeper into his hold. “Oh, fuck. I thought I lost you.”

  “You owe at least twenty dollars to the swear jar by now,” he joked gently, his eyes softening.

  I lifted my eyes to his, tears brimming on my lashes. “You’re alive.”

  “Da. I would not leave you behind. The King of Hell couldn’t drag me away from you.” Olezka’s gaze shifted over to Erebus meaningfully.

  “Very funny,” Erebus snarked. “Glad you’re having a good time, but we have pressing matters to attend to.”

  Unbridled anger fueled by the recent events that culminated in finding my mate lying lifeless on the ground rose, and I turned on Erebus, my cheeks red with my rising blood pressure.

&nbs
p; “Back off. He almost died.”

  Erebus looked momentarily dazed by my outburst before glancing at my mate. A smile blossomed. “I approve of your fierce mate.”

  “Good, then stop calling her yours,” Olezka said, wrapping his arm around my waist, his hand resting possessively on my hip.

  Despite his words, I didn’t let go of my anger. “He’s resting now. Leave.”

  “He is fine, ozorink.”

  “Mphm.”

  Erebus’s lips thinned, but there was a tiny spark of humor in his eyes. “I would give you time if I had it to give. As it is, your brothers are out, preparing for tonight’s activities. Congrats, by the way. But now it is time for you to help me save my mate.” Erebus directed his last comment to me.

  There was a lot to unpack in that whole statement, so I just blinked at him.

  “What?”

  “I will leave the explanation for later. For now, we need to discuss what will happen in the next week.”

  “Which is what?” Olezka asked, tugging me closer to him on the bed. I touched his hand, needing more of a connection to know he was awake and alive.

  “As I was trying to say before, King Malcolm of the Light Fae Kingdom sent an invite to my rumored human mate and me. Someone in the Light Kingdom has been passing around some interesting rumors about the weak Dark Fae Prince, posing as a pretender King,” he pointed at himself, “who has become even weaker with his human mate,” he finished, pointing to me.

  “Human mates are not weak,” Olezka growled.

  “As proved by your mate. But we must play it up. It will be the best way to get close to Ana. It’s a trap, without question, but for what means, I haven’t figured out.”

  “Key wants me in his possession,” I offered.

  “Why?” Erebus asked, and Olezka growled while tightening his hold.

  “To use as leverage against Ana.”

  “Well, let’s give the bastard what he wants,” Erebus said.

  Chapter 23

  “Okay, but I still don’t understand why I have to be blindfolded for this.”

  A rumbling laugh sounded behind me. It was no secret that my mate still wasn’t up to par. He was still weak from whatever Key had pumped into his body.

  Olezka told us, without sparing details, that after Key and I disappeared, he fought harder to escape. But as the fight continued, the crowd got rowdier. Paras who had only wavering control, to begin with, finally unleashed and attacked the humans in the audience. Some escaped, and most of the paras fled. Fortunately, his squad had a backup plan in place if he didn’t check in with his team within forty-eight hours. He wanted to scold me for my rash decision to go with Cyril without telling him, but we’d barely had time alone to speak with each other because of the revolving door that seemed to sprout in his room.

  First, Erebus wouldn’t leave. Then, Timur and Roman came in to speak with Olezka. He urged me to relax and take a hot bath while they talked, which I only agreed to because it felt like some of the sand from the fighting ring was burrowed into my skin.

  While taking full advantage of all of the opulent bathing fixtures, soaps, and bath salts Erebus had for our use, I took time to reflect. Losing Cyril hurt more than I cared to admit. Sure, he wasn’t what I would necessarily call trustworthy, but he saved both Olezka and me by sacrificing himself. If he hadn’t released me from our deal, one of us wouldn’t have made it.

  I wasn’t too proud to admit I had a good crying session to mourn Cyril while I was alone in the bathroom, though I tried to be as quiet as possible. Olezka still hadn’t said anything about their fight, but I wasn’t sure how much he remembered. Erebus told me we’d slept two nights after being brought back to this side of the Veil. I guess we both needed the sleep.

  ****

  “Trust me, my priyatel.”

  A shiver went down my spine when he used that deep, sexy voice of his.

  “I do.”

  “Good,” Olezka said, his breath brushing over my lips. I was eager to reach out and touch him. He moved away, taking his heat with him.

  “Why is it such a big secret?”

  “Because it’s part of the whole experience. Just humor us,” Roman teased.

  I rolled my eyes behind the blindfold even though they couldn’t see it. For the first time in a long while, I felt a spark of humor; then my mind lingered on what Erebus said. He hinted to Olezka and me that he had a much more elaborate plan to explain to us tomorrow. Apparently, he already knew what was happening tonight. I was the only one out of the loop.

  “Move, little brat,” Timur growled.

  My nose wrinkled as the acrid smell of bonfire smoke wafted from him. It was the first time I realized Roman and Olezka’s fire didn’t produce a smoky smell like a normal fire. Olezka’s was a deeper, spicier version of his own particular scent. Comparing the brothers’ hellhound scents reminded me that I needed to have a long, horrible talk with my mate. My stomach sank with the realization of how upset he would be with me.

  I met Illarion. Not only once but twice, and I let him slip through my fingers both times. How could I look my mate in the eye, knowing that I’d left his brother in hell? How could I tell Roman? At least, Timur already knew that Key had him, though it didn’t seem like he was any closer than I was to figuring out how to rescue him.

  “Okay, Sixx, take off your blindfold,” Roman said.

  I pulled off the silky material and blinked a couple of times to readjust my eyesight. I pulled my glasses down from where I’d perched them on top of my head and slid them back to the bridge of my nose.

  I blinked several more times.

  I craned my neck around and realized we were a good distance away from the palace. Roman guided me gently to sit on a large fallen log that was perched on one end of an expansive, open area ringed by tall hedges. A circle of flickering torches was placed strategically around the courtyard area. The air was warm against my skin. The sky was dark and filled with glittering stars, and the grass was impossibly soft under my bare feet. The effect was magical and bewildering.

  “Whoa.”

  Each brother was dressed quite scandalously, which made me pause. They each wore a fur kilt belted around their waist and not much else. Olezka was the only one with any sort of ornamentation; he had two strips of leather lashed around his biceps.

  Olezka’s hair had grown since the first time we met. Tonight, it was braided away from his face, showcasing his handsome profile. Timur’s hair was short and slicked back as always, and Roman wore his long hair pushed back with a headband.

  Timur, the oldest, and Roman, the youngest, each held chains that had flaming balls on each end, the same as they used in fire poi or flame dancing. Olezka stood between his brothers, holding two unlit sticks. Erebus emerged from the shadows, holding a small instrument that looked like a cross between a ukulele and a guitar. He glanced at the brothers, who nodded.

  “What’s going on, guys?” I asked, slightly nervous.

  “This is a ritual that rarogs do to introduce their mates to their flocks. We have adjusted this tradition to fit our shared heritages – that of a rarog, for Roman; a hellhound, for Timur; a rarog-hellhound hybrid, for me and my twin; and a human. You need only to sit there, zhizn' moya,” Olezka explained.

  I squirmed, not liking their intense scrutiny directed at me. But my uncomfortableness faded quickly when they started to move. Erebus started to strum the instrument, and Timur moved first, spinning his chains so quickly that the fireballs created a seemingly unending circle. As Erebus picked up speed, his momentum shifted, and Timur’s dance intensified.

  Olezka kept his gaze focused on me. I blushed when I caught his eye. He looked magnificent. When Roman joined in, I gasped when his swinging fire edged too close to Olezka, though my mate didn’t even flinch. Instead, the beat of the song changed, and he joined in, stomping and moving in a fluid dance. Placing one end of his fire stick against Timur’s, it flared to life. When he placed the other end to Roman’s, the f
lames flickered on both ends. I could see the symbolism of the brothers sharing their fires; the rarog end ignited with Olezka and Roman’s fire while the hellhound side flared with man-made fire.

  Their synchronized dance captivated me, and I found I was unable to look away. Slowly, imperceptibly, their movements shifted and became separate. Roman glided to the edge of the clearing, away from Timur and Olezka, who struck up an orchestrated fight-dance that seemed as beautiful as any ballroom dance.

  The music that poured from Erebus’s instrument seemed to dictate the pace of the dance, or else the dance dictated the tempo; I couldn’t be sure. As his fingers trilled across the strings, my heart sped up and matched its rhythm until I felt short of breath. As his fingers stilled and eased into a slower melody, my pulse relaxed, and I took a deep breath. It kept on in this punishing cadence as the brothers continued their ritual.

  Timur lunged forward, whipping his pois with dangerous accuracy at my mate. Anxious, I gripped the log I sat upon and fought the urge to jump forward and block Timur’s attacks.

  Olezka moved faster than he should have been able to do since he was still healing, but he managed to narrowly dodge the attack. Lunging back and twisting his fire stick around, my mate swiped at his brother and caused Timur to stumble back. Slowing and then stilling his pois, he bowed respectfully to his brother and backed away.

  Roman was next. As Timur took his place on the edge of the circle, Roman stepped in, and he fought with Olezka for a little longer. Their attacks seemed brutal and ferocious, but then I saw Roman’s lips twitch upward. Either he was very much enjoying himself, or he was extremely proud of Olezka. Shortly thereafter, Olezka forced Roman back a couple of feet with his pois toward the edge of the clearing before Roman did the same with his pois. Snapping the fire sticks to his side, Roman stepped back and bowed to his brother.

  With that portion concluded, Olezka seemed to be performing just for me. He turned the weight of his attention to me, and his body moved in ways that would have been considered showy elsewhere but, in this moment, were beautiful and poignant. My heart squeezed, and my eyes prickled with the beginning of tears.

 

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