by Rose Haven
Put on a happy face.
It's what she told herself every day.
She dropped the pillow, forcing herself to her feet. Before she could get to her shoes, she stepped on a shard from a broken beer bottle, which stuck deep into the ball of her foot. She cursed, grabbing her foot and stumbling to Tanya's yellowed mattress, where she blinked back tears and slowly pried the glass from her flesh. She couldn't even cry for the pain. There were worse pains in this world.
--
Luthias had led Elizabeth away from the hotel and to a waiting limousine, unsettlingly calm for someone who had just killed a man. He opened the door for her, like a gentleman. Even there she hesitated, but the sound of approaching police sirens made her quickly dive into the vehicle. Her heart pounding in her ears, she couldn't appreciate the luxury of the interior, which was spotless and without odor. Luthias slid in beside her, closing the door.
"Drive," he said.
"What, kill someone?" came the voice from the lowering partition.
"You've been given an order."
"You know, a 'please' wouldn't kill you."
When the partition came down Elizabeth was startled by the appearance of their driver. His face was vaguely like Luthias', though marred by prominent canine teeth and ears so pointed the tips pushed through his hair—hair that was silvery white, despite his young appearance. As he gave a short wave, she noticed his nails came to points that couldn't be hidden as well as the lord's. His bright eyes lingered on her too as he looked back, apparently as fascinated by her as she was with him. Then, he smiled. His features softened.
"Hey," he said. "It's...good to meet you, I guess."
"I told you to drive," Luthias said.
"Yeah yeah."
The car started and they were off down the road, swerving through traffic to put as much distance between them and the Luxor as they could.
When a few stoplights had passed, Elizabeth began to relax back as her mind caught up with her. Anxiety began to creep up, realizing now that she was trapped in close quarters with a powerful murderer and a man with claws and fangs, both of whom seemed to have an unnatural obsession with her. Her throat closed up, heart pounding fast, hands growing clammy as she just tried to tell herself to stay still, stay still, they can't notice me if I stay still. She was about to pass out from sheer stress when the driver broke the silence, glancing back over his shoulder with an all but soothing smile.
"Name's Kieran," he said. "I'm his brother."
"Half-brother," Luthias said, cold. He stared out the window though, betraying no other feelings about the situation.
"Yeah. Lord-Dad was into cheating on his mate with human girls, so, that's what's up with the teeth and nails. If you were wondering."
His casual manner did help calm her nerves. She let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, wrapping her arms around her chest.
"So...you're half-demon, then?" she asked, testing the waters.
"In the flesh," said Kieran. "There aren't a lot of us, since we aren't the cutest kids. Demons can keep their animal traits under wraps, but when you throw human into the mix, that gets tricky. I know some half-breeds with actual tails. I'm assuming you're new to all this."
She nodded a little. Kieran sighed, giving Luthias a disappointing glance.
"Assuming he didn't tell you anything."
Again, she nodded. She stole a look at Luthias, trying to understand this man and his impenetrable silence.
"He called me Emilie," she said, after a moment.
"Didn't even get your real name?"
She nodded again, and he laughed, adjusting the rear view mirror.
"Tell me your name, kid."
"Elizabeth."
This finally stirred Luthias. His golden gaze shifted towards her, taking her in with intensity she still wasn't used to, before he looked back out the window. She again noticed the sturdiness of his body, so evenly toned up and down, allowing for such elegant, subtle movement. She couldn't understand why the sight of this silent murderer brought such heat to her skin.
"Is the pilot prepped?" Luthias asked Kieran.
"The hell should I know? I didn't plan this."
"Useless."
He pulled a phone out of his coat pocket before he shed it, tossing it on the ground. She was surprised to see that his long-sleeve shirt was complete with cufflinks, so old fashioned against his modern cellphone. He pressed a few buttons and dialed.
"We're arriving," he said.
A few moments' pause and he ended the call, tossing the expensive phone carelessly onto the jacket. He looked back out the window, as if she wasn't there.
Confusion was finally overtaking her anxiety. He had killed a man for her, so what was this silent treatment? She was owed an explanation, at the very least.
"You called me a demon," she said, trying to get his attention. "I'm not."
"Your blood is dormant," he replied.
"What does that even mean?"
"Kieran has agreed to explain this nonsense. Talk to the mutt."
He looked back to the window, and she realized then that he seemed out of sorts. It wasn't coldness, as she had first thought, but instead a sort of catatonia that seemed to keep him from looking at her too long. Who was this Emilie? Was it her that had this effect on people? And if so, Elizabeth couldn't see how they thought she was her.
"You'll get the story on the plane," Kieran promised.
"Can you at least tell me where we're going?"
"England, sort of," Kieran said. "The island's right off the south coast. You'll be able to take trips there, if you want."
"The island?"
"You'll like it. Really." He glanced back again, giving her a once-over. "You'll probably like it more than here, right?"
She rubbed her arm, avoiding his look. Maybe he was right. Anywhere was better than here.
"I feel like I'm being kidnapped," she muttered.
Kieran chuckled, scratching his head.
"Sorry, kid. We'll try not to do it again."
Again, Elizabeth tried to catch Luthias' gaze—but he seemed far off, locked deep in his own mind. If she didn't know better, she would think he was finally bothered by what he had done to her client. Somehow though, she knew it couldn't be that simple. She replayed that evening in her mind, remembering the ferocity with which he defended her, to the expectation in his eyes when they first beheld one another. There had been a rawness to him then that was hidden, now. He had wanted something from her that she couldn't yet give him.
She leaned back against the door, soon closing her eyes. As comfortable with her captors as she had been with any of her foster parents, she found it easy enough to close her eyes, letting the lull of the engine coax her to sleep.
--
Luthias owned a private jet, apparently. Elizabeth would have been surprised if there was anything left to be surprised about. The main cabin was more like a living room than the interior of a plane, with beautiful couches, leather seats, and a full bar. There were stunningly beautiful stewardesses onboard ready to serve her drinks even before she had fastened her seatbelt, though Luthias brushed them aside like they were invisible. Kieran would take a beer, flirting in a rough way that made Elizabeth smile. Aside from the vague resemblance, it was hard to believe they were brothers. They sat as far apart as they could get themselves, with Kieran and Elizabeth in more secure seats at the back of the cabin, and Luthias facing them partially in a reclined chair. He had found a book, somewhere, and idly flipped his way through with his brooding look. In the strangest way, Elizabeth found it charming.
"So, Elizabeth," Kieran said, as the engines revved. "Do you go by Eliza, or..."
She shook her head. He smiled.
"It's nice."
"It's just a name," she said.
Realizing she still had in her hair clip, she took it out, shaking out her blonde locks. She thought she saw Luthias' attention snap to her, before he quickly returned to the book. Maybe he
was just a man, under all that scowling.
"I feel sort of gross," she admitted, sighing. "Can I wash my face in the bathroom?"
"Once we get to some-thousand feet. Just, stay put for now. I don't want you to trip and hit your head or anything."
His concern was touching, though odd. He appeared embarrassed by it too, like a child caught somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. Silence settled as the plane ascended, leaving Vegas and her old life far behind.
When it was safe to relax in the cabin, she slipped back into the bathroom to collect herself. She found a sink nicer than the one in the Luxor, where she could scrub away the layers of make-up she had applied for Mr. Seymour's approval. When it was gone, she felt naked. She remembered that Luthias still had her purse, which had her lipstick, and she still felt too weird to get it back from him. Face dry, she finally emerged from the bathroom, taking a seat beside Kieran at the bar. Kidnapper or not, Kieran was far more approachable than his brother.
"You look better without all that crap on your face," Kieran said, blunt.
She blushed, and he grinned as he knocked back a shot. He was sweet.
"You have questions, yeah?"
"Yeah," she said, smiling weakly.
"First one?"
"I guess...who is Emilie?"
At this, his carefree manner lessened. A solemn air settled, even as he poured himself another drink, persisting as he smiled.
"To put it bluntly, my daughter, Luthias' mate," he said. "She was...rebellious. Luthias started courting her just to piss me off, I think, and incest happens just enough with demon royals that no one really cared but me. But that son of a bitch got my daughter, and they were...hell, they were happy. Until..."
He shook his head, setting down his glass.
"Other things to explain first. You really don't know anything about demons?"
"Nothing," she said, though she really wished he would tell her more about Emilie first. For now though, she would listen.
"Way way back, there was this 'spirit of chaos' who decided to screw a bunch of animals, who gave birth to the demon breeds.’ Noble demons' are the ones that have dual forms, one animal and one human, which they generally use to bang. Main nobles are the Wolves, Snakes, Cats, Bears—and us, the Canines. We're sort of top dog, literally."
He chuckled, and she noticed again the length of his nails as he tapped them on the counter, thinking.
"The noble demons all have their own kingdoms. Ours is the oldest. No one messes with the Canines, especially not with their lords. The Cennasaí. Right now, that's Luthias. When he finally kicks the bucket, it'll be his son, Avery."
"He has a son?" she asked, surprised.
"Yeah. My grandson," he said. "All grown up now. He's all his mother left behind, before you."
"I don't understand," Elizabeth said, though she was already beginning to piece it together.
"Luthias is an old, stubborn bastard," Kieran said. "If nothing kills us, we're pretty much immortal. Our souls are reincarnated, when we do pass. When Emilie died, he said he'd never stop looking for her. I never thought he'd actually find anything, but by some miracle, he found you."
He smiled at her, as this information sunk in. Elizabeth didn't know what to say.
"You mean...I'm Emilie?" she asked.
"Her soul. Yeah." Kieran laughed a little, to break the tension. "I know how it sounds, but you look just like her. Blonde instead of brunette, maybe a bit paler, but you're her. And if you're her, that means you're demon."
The inside of her head felt like mush. She was floored that he could claim something like that so casually—that she was the reincarnation of his deceased daughter. Yet even as she grasped futilely for something to fill the silence, he had gotten a new glass from under the counter and poured her a spirit.
"Guessing you need a drink."
She managed a nod, and he pushed it her way.
"Don't blame you."
Elizabeth didn't know she was shaking until she lifted the glass, but it didn't keep her from finishing the drink. Whatever it was, it burned her throat, making her cough. She pushed it back to him, mumbling for a refill, which he obliged.
"I noticed you've got a bit of a limp. Something happen?" Kieran asked.
"Yeah, accident," she sighed. "It's fine now."
"We'll get someone to look at it when we get to the castle."
Castle. She wasn't slightly ready to think about that.
After a couple of drinks, she realized Luthias wasn't in the main cabin. Not quite drunk, but still not sober, she found herself wandering away to investigate.
"Exploring?" Kieran called after her.
"Yeah..."
She discovered there was an actual hallway, with a door to another room left slightly ajar. Although she knew that the last thing she should be doing was poking around a demon's lair, it might have been the alcohol that led her to push the door open. Behind it was a bedroom, the queen-sized bed made neatly with silky white sheets, only the couple of "safety seats" installed on the far wall betraying that this was still an airplane. Luthias was there, standing in front of a mirror by the wall with his shirt half open, his hand still on one of the buttons when he heard the door open.
They were both motionless as their eyes locked, as Elizabeth finally understood that seemingly cold expression. Soon though, the spell was broken. She pressed back, almost to run, but pressure on her injured foot made her curse and stop. All at once, his coldness faded into surprising concern.
"Come in. I smell blood."
His words didn't exactly set her at ease, but seeing him open a closet and pull out a very normal first aid kit, she saw no reason not to accept his request. She closed the door behind her, limping a bit more to the bed, where she finally pushed off her heels. Blood had soaked through the gauze—she didn't even want to think of looking underneath.
"I stepped on some glass," she said, not knowing why she felt the need to explain herself. "I didn't really have any time to do anything about it before I went to work."
"As a prostitute," he said, matter of fact. He knelt down before her to open the kit.
"An escort..."
"You get paid for your time and sex is an option. It's prostitution."
Luthias unwound a roll of gauze, cutting it with his teeth.
"You're better than that," he said.
He was so certain of everything he said. His calm was unlike anything she had ever known, fostered by this undercurrent of power. She could see it more than ever now, as his unbuttoned shirt hung fully open to reveal a chest chiseled like marble, biceps bulging just beneath thin white fabric of his long sleeves. He removed the gauze, lifting her heel to rest on his knee so he could clean the gash with alcohol. Soon he wrapped it tight with the white bandage, finishing his work. Despite her lingering anxiety, his gentleness with her now made her heart pound.
Too soon, he set her foot down, closing up the kit. He tossed the discarded bandage in a bin and returned to the closet, still so quiet. As her fear of him faded, a combination of the alcohol and his care, she tried to remember her tricks for conversation. After all, it was the escort's job to give her client a good time. Those stranger questions about Emilie, his thinking she was his mate, and all of the demon weirdness would have to wait until she was sober.
"What were you doing back here, all by yourself?"
Luthias showed initial surprise at being questioned. He closed the closet door, not answering immediately.
"I was considering a change of clothes. I've no need to blend with humans at the castle."
"So your plan was to kidnap me, put on a change of clothes, and lock me in your castle?" She giggled, a little drunker than she thought.
He gave her a look that said he wasn't amused, though the slightest twitch of his lips betrayed otherwise.
"I've no plans to lock you anywhere."
Luthias would lean back against the wall, appearing to relax for the first time that day. Loose strands of his raven hair
had fallen into his face, and he didn't move to brush them away. She couldn't help but notice the rise and fall of that chest in his open shirt. A primal desire stirred in her as she imagined herself pressing her fingers into those hard muscles, tracing the ridges in his abdomen, as he showed her how a virile man took his woman. Try as she might, she couldn't push these thoughts away.
"If you're not going to lock me up...what are you going to do?"
His eyes traced her as hers had traced him. He answered as smoothly as before, though she could see the want in his eyes.
"I plan to provide a better life for you," he said. "Kieran told you who you are to me. I make no assumptions that the same will become of us, in this lifetime. I vowed that when I found you, if you were content with your life, I would leave you alone. However, upon finding you a prostitute in Las Vegas, I chose to intervene. You can do whatever you want with your time in my castle, but I expect that you will take advantage of the resources I provide you. There will be tutors, coaches, and ambassadors to take you places you wish to see. Is that acceptable?"
She laughed in sheer disbelief. If she was sober, she would have cried.
"What's the catch?" she asked, unwilling to believe this. "You'd just take a girl off the street and give her free lodging and education?"
"There's no catch," he said. "I just want you to be happy."
He averted his gaze; she glimpsed a terrible sadness in him, just beneath the surface.
"Consider it repayment of an old debt."
Suddenly uncomfortable, he quickly began to button up his shirt, heading to the door.
"You can sleep in here for the remainder of the flight," he said to her. "Kieran will wake you when we begin the descent."
Luthias left before she could say anything. Feeling strangely out of place, she would lay down. She crawled beneath the covers and found it was heaven. She curled up into a little ball there, all by herself in a huge bed, and hugged a pillow to her chest. Even her foot hurt less. She would never have to go back to that horrible apartment, never have to pick up at Stedman's call, and she would never again have to touch a withered old man for money. The violence she had witnessed earlier was quickly being clouded by this dreamlike realization. The rest of the plane ride was the best sleep she had had in all her life.