E.V.I.E.: 13 Slayers, 13 Missions

by Lexi C. Foss

  “Fuck, that’s hot,” I hear Travis hiss above her hushed moan. “Told you she tastes good.”

  I hum in agreement just as he goes back in for more, the wet sound of his fangs re-piercing her skin, heightening the erotic feel of her finger in my mouth. We fed, what? Two hours ago? Yet I want more of her, I want her to touch me, want her to put my hands all over her while I replace Travis’ fangs with my own.

  Jesus Christ, what the fuck is wrong with me?

  “Here,” he rasps, snapping my eyes back open. “Have some more.” Right where her tits press together, he starts a bloody trail that leads over one swell, up her collar bone and the curve of her neck, then along her jawline and across her lips.

  I’m so hyper-focused, I swear to you the thin line glows a bright red, coaxing me to make it disappear with my tongue. Giselle immobilizes me, though, pulling her finger free from my mouth and dragging it slowly down my bottom lip. She seems to like the visual that presents for her, mouth parting appeasingly as she continues down my sternum.

  I can’t do anything but observe her, don’t even know where the hell to start with her. I’ve never been opposed to threesomes; I just never imagined I’d partake in one. If it were her and I alone, I’d have had her on the pool table by now. Travis being here makes it...I don’t know—more difficult? Don’t get me wrong, I would definitely fuck him, but the pull I’ve felt since we were all back at the bar doesn’t extend to him. That was all me and Giselle.

  She’s the one who took me to feed.

  She’s the one who invited me back here.

  She’s the one who got a little too close.

  And I’m into it, I’m here for it. I just don’t know how to act with her man in the picture. What’s okay and what isn’t? Do they do this often? Are they poly or just swingers?

  “Am I making you uncomfortable, Loey?” Travis questions mere seconds later, shooting a small, almost inaudible gasp past my lips. “I can read you perfectly, sweetheart. You’re engaged, yet hesitant. It’s okay if you are, I just need to know so I can act accordingly.”

  Him voicing such observations in that deliciously, dark timbre has me cutting my gaze back on him. “I’m still feeling you out,” I answer honestly. “Don’t quite know what to make of you yet.”

  Inches from my ear, Giselle scoffs a laugh through her nose. “I’m always telling him not to be so intense. He doesn’t listen.” She tucks a strand of hair behind the lobe “He can sit out if that’s going to get us back on track. I’ve been waiting to taste you since that alleyway, and I’m starting to get antsy...”

  So am I but...

  “No, that’s not right. I don’t want him to feel left out.” I’m looking right at him as I say this, breathing through the shiver that ripples down my spine at the magnitude of his intensity.

  “How about we work together to bring Ellie over the edge then?” he proposes. “If things progress while we’re at it, no harm, no foul. How’s that sound?”

  I like it actually. I wouldn’t mind having a piece of both of them at the same time if that’s where we ended up. Like I said, he’s ridiculously hot. I just haven’t really connected with him yet. “Perfect.”

  Travis’ lips curl in a deviously appeased smile as he looks down at his girl. “Looks like you’re the main attraction tonight, you little minx.”

  “Mmm, lucky me.” She grins, too, crooking a finger at me.

  She doesn’t have to ask me twice. Fisting the front of her tank top, I yank her impossibly closer and smash my lips to hers. Moaning into my mouth, she takes my face between her hands and deepens the kiss. Idly, I hear the jingle of a belt, but I don’t release her, nipping her bottom lip as my fangs elongate.

  It’s not until I feel the soft brush of Travis’ touch against my abdomen that I stop, glancing downward. He’s already got Giselle’s belt undone, currently working on the button and the zipper. Following his lead, I clasp the hem of her tank top and pull it up and over her head as her jeans hit the floor, leaving her in nothing but a bra and panties.

  Anddd there goes my mouth watering again. I didn’t think she could get any hotter, and yet here we are.

  “The two of you better start losing some clothes,” she teases. “Real quick, too.”

  Travis chuckles and gives a little shake to his head, making quick work of losing his t-shirt.

  I try not to ogle him, I do, but it’s damn near impossible. His tattoos don’t run only the span of his arms. They hug the sinewy muscles of his shoulders and creep down his pecs. He’s not super ripped, more on the lean side, but the definition of that V peeking out from the waistline of his jeans has me drooling all over again.

  Next thing I know, Giselle’s pulling my crop top over my head and tossing it somewhere behind us. My ass hits the pool table, she lifts me right over the edge, and in one swift move, my pants go next. I don’t have a single second to process any of it, goosebumps prickling my skin as her palms smooth up my legs, parting them slowly.

  “Lay back,” she commands.

  I do as I’m told, pushing a few of the balls out of the way to accommodate myself. A couple make it into the pockets, bubbling a laugh deep in my chest.

  A momentary laugh because the very second her lips make contact with my thighs, all I can focus is how close she is to my—

  Scratch that, she’s there, pulling my panties to the side. The first lap of her tongue whirs the air between my teeth as the clank of a belt meets my ears. The second arches my back off the table, and the third has us moaning in tandem. She’s not moaning from my taste alone, though. The clank I heard was Travis’ pants hitting the floor. My gaze snaps up in time to find him filling his wife to the hilt as she eats my pussy, his stare fixated on me and only me…

  3

  Loey

  I leave Giselle and Travis’ place with just enough time to make it home without having to use the underground tunnels. I don't mind them considering they're the only way I can get around in broad daylight without burning to a crisp, but I try to avoid them at all costs unless I'm jumping the portal.

  Roscoe, my five-year-old adopted Doberman/Great Dane mix, greets me the moment I push open the door. He bounds right up to me and stands tall on his hind legs, stubby tail wagging happily as he slobbers kisses all over my face.

  "I missed you too, buddy," I laugh. "You hungry?"

  He barks just once and takes off like a bat out of hell for the kitchen, sliding around the corner. He's moving so fast, he almost body slams into the wall. Wouldn't be the first time he did that.

  Guess you are hungry.

  Chortling at his clumsiness, I slip off my boots and follow behind him into the kitchen. He's already sitting in front of his bowls, and when I don't make a move to advance any further, he shoves his nose into one of them and starts sliding it toward me.

  "Okay, okay, you're hungry," I laugh again. "Let's get you some breakfast."

  He follows me all around the kitchen, watching me prepare his meal. The second I pull out the jar of honey from the cupboard, he does this little yelp of approval, pawing at my leg. He loves that stuff. It’s probably one of the only reasons he still eats kibble. Unlike Malfoy, my other adopted furbaby, Roscoe eats mostly raw.

  “Where is Malfoy?” I ask him, drizzling the sticky sweetness over his grain-free breakfast.

  Roscoe barks again and takes off to, undoubtedly, go find him. Knowing their relationship, he’ll probably come back with the cat in his mouth.

  I can’t help but chuckle, heading shaking in amusement. To this day, I’m still amazed at how well they get along. When Malfoy’s cute little white-haired and blue-eyed self showed up in the backyard, I didn’t know if I should let him in or not. It was clear he wanted to, was super friendly and affectionate from the jump, but it’d been just me and Roscoe for a good year at that point, and I wasn’t sure he’d do well with a new addition. So I opted to keep him as an outdoor cat, right? Named him, bought him matching bowls, and a comfy kitty bed. He loved them, never
left the backyard, but one fateful day, he slipped past me when I opened the back door to go feed him, and he never went back out after that. Roscoe surprised me by taking Malfoy under his wing, and the two have been inseparable since.

  Sure enough, right as I’m setting Roscoe’s bowl onto his mat, he comes trotting in with Malfoy in his mouth. Upon realizing his food’s waiting for him, he sets the cat at my feet and scrambles to his bowls.

  Glancing downward, I’m met with clear, blue eyes and a soft meow. “You hungry, too, baby boy?”

  Malfoy meows again and promptly jumps onto the counter, pawing at the cabinet where I keep his cans of food. He gets dry food, too, but prefers wet in the morning.

  While the both of them devour their food, I go about unlocking Roscoe’s doggy door that leads to the backyard. It's too bright for me to sit out there with him, otherwise, I'd be grabbing a book and laying out on the hammock while he rolls around in the grass and soaks up the sun. I usually leave it open for him while I'm sleeping so he can venture in and out as he pleases, but most of the time I wake up to him hogging more than half my bed and Malfoy curled up on the pillow beside me. Considering I was gone all night, I'm going to say that'll likely be the case today. Aside from work hours, I don't ever leave Roscoe and Malfoy alone the whole night. They’re my babies.

  Then again, I also don't sleep with married people, and look how well that turned out last night. Guess there’s a first time for everything...

  My God, what would Casti have to say if I told her.

  Casti’s one of my greatest friends. She’s an E.V.I.E slayer, too, and I hold her—and her precious daughter, Mercy—very near and dear to my heart. The closest thing I’ll ever have to a sister, I tell her damn near everything whenever we get to meet up. Much like myself, she’s on a mission of her own, making it impossible for us to get together more often. Last I told her about my love life was Dex and our no-strings arrangement. She was all for it. But fucking a married couple? I think she might shove one of her perfectly whittled stakes through my heart without blinking and call it a day.

  That is technically part of our pact: once I find Shadowed Sanctum and the Malefictums, Casti will do the dirty work and put me out of my misery. Really, she’s second in line to Aliya—who I first told when the incident happened—but Aliya’s retired now. I haven’t seen her since the night I came clean and she gave me her word, promised me she’d track me down to the ends of the earth if I tried to run.

  I won’t run. I want to die.

  Death will be merciful in comparison to this hell I call my life.

  Trudging into my bedroom, I strip out of my clothes and toss them into the hamper. Usually I’d just face plant onto the bed and pass out, but I need to wash Giselle’s scent off me sooner rather than later. I can literally smell her all over me, smell us. The scent transports me back as I amble into the bathroom and turn on the shower.

  This is why I’ve always loved women. A woman just knows what a woman wants. Giselle’s touch is a gentle caress, her palms smoothing up and down the span of my thighs. But her mouth? Her mouth ravishes me, tongue hyper-focusing on my clit and every little moan that slips past my lips. Nevermind the fact that her husband’s inside of her, fucking her with almost punishing thrusts, I know the groans and hums leaving her are for me, because of me, because of my taste.

  “Bite her again,” Travis demands, and I swear my nipples pebble in anticipation.

  The last time she did it, I nearly came. Given how she’s been working me like a wind up toy for the last ten minutes, I’d say I’ll definitely fly over the edge if she—

  She does it, her fangs sinking into the fleshy piece where my thigh meets my pussy.

  “Jesus Christ,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head beneath the ice-cold spray. I’m supposed to be washing her scent off me, not reliving the moment and fantasizing about wanting to do it again. “They’re married, Loey. They’re fucking married. We’re not doing it again.”

  Little did I know just how persistent Giselle would prove to be, crashing through my resolve like a goddamn wrecking ball. Perhaps if she knew I was a slayer, she’d stay far the hell away from me.

  But just like my suicide mission, that’s another piece of me I don’t want her to know about.

  Saturday's are our busiest night at the bar. You've got people coming in and out all night. Some will even stay until we close. It can get crazy, but I look forward to the chaos. It's one of the few times I'm not thinking about blood, about preying on an innocent and sucking them dry until they're nothing but skin and bones.

  I defInitely don't have the time to think about it tonight. We are slammed. For every drink I serve, another three pop up. I'm pretty sure we're almost at capacity, too, that is, if we're not already.

  "Lolo, take a break in five." That's Ben. He owns The Mad Orchid and he's actually an awesome human being.

  The best boss I've ever had—aside from Jude of course.

  In some ways, he reminds me of Vaughn in a lot of ways. They both have the silver fox look going on and they're cool as a damn cucumber twenty-four-seven. I absolutely detest when he calls me Lolo, though. That's one thing Vaughn does not do.

  "You did it again, Benjamin," I yell back over the music, shaking the crap out of this lady's basic-ass Daiquiri. "And I don't need a break."

  If I take a break I'm going to be tempted to—

  "Yes you do," a female's voice chimes in, and after hearing that voice in all kinds of octaves last night, I know exactly who it is without taking a look at her pretty face.

  My heart slams against my chest as a mental replay flickers through my mind yet again.

  Not sure how I manage to pull a martini glass from the shelf behind me without dropping it, but I set it onto the counter and go about pouring the drink with pure finesse as I cut my eyes to Ellie's awaiting smirk. "What are you doing here?"

  Chin in her hand, her smirk widens. "To see you, obviously."

  My stomach flips. "I'm working, though."

  "Mhmm, and it looks like bossman just told you to take a break. I'd say I got here just in time," she counters.

  Lips quirking, I slide the martini glass toward the woman in front of me and take the cash she's set on the bar, pointing my stare back on Giselle. "Where's Travis?"

  "Home,” she shrugs.

  Interesting.

  "Go take a break," Ben demands in my ear. "You've been at it like a maniac for hours. Plus, she looks like fun."

  "She is," I toss back, grinning as his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, an impressed expression coloring his handsome features.

  "Oh, really?"

  I nod salaciously. "Really."

  Ben cocks his head aside, yanking the washcloth hanging from my back pocket as he all but shoves me out from behind the bar. "All the more reason to take that break. Bye. Wren and I got it," he insists, and I know that's the end of that.

  Fighting him would be futile from all angles. I've learned that the hard way with Ben. He's lenient and super chill, but once he puts his foot down about something, there's no working around it.

  I don't even get to respond. He's already wandered back into the madness, clapping Wren on the shoulder as he scoots past her and her electric pink locks.

  Chuckling, I spin on my heel to make my way over to Giselle who’s staring me down with those hypnotic duo-toned pools.

  "Have you eaten?" An innocent question to the average human, thoughtful even, but we all know what she's getting at.

  "Not since earlier, no," I admit, shrugging as she gives me this chastising look, dark, curly head falling to one side and all.

  "You're killing me, Smalls," she quotes, and then we're out of there, flashing through the bar and out the same exit we took last night. Seconds later, my back's hitting the bricks of the building, her hands falling flat on either side of my head. "Why are you so hard-headed? You need to feed, Loey."

  "I know but—"

  She sets the same finger I had in my mouth last ni
ght against my lips, shushing me softly. "But nothing. The less you feed, the less control you have. Take it from me; I was exactly the same when I first turned. You have to sate your needs in order to practice true restraint."

  “I told you last night. I don't like hurting people, Ellie. It's not right. We shouldn't even be alive.”

  Giselle's expression softens, hand sweeping up to claim my chin and lure me closer. "And like I told you, we are. We died and were given a second chance. Yeah, it comes with a price, but we get to live. Eternally if we play our cards right."

  Our lips brush, that's how close she's reeled me in. I don't know what it is about her, but I can't think straight when she's this close, can't form a proper sentence to save my goddamn life. "Why would... That's not…”

  “Shhh," she silences me, "Objections will change nothing. End of the day, we're vampires and we need to feed, whether we like it or not."

  "I'm not hungry," I whisper, eyes falling shut, a harsh breath shooting free from my throat as her lips press harder against my own.

  "Lies. I can feel your energy, Lo, hear the thundering of your pulse. You're on edge, baby, and you know it."

  "'Cause of you. I'm on edge 'cause of you." No point in hiding it. It's not like she didn't have her mouth on my pussy just twenty-four hours ago.

  "Looks like that makes two of us. I've been riding the high of last night all day. You can thank Trav for me being here right now," she states, and before I can so much as ask what exactly she means by that, she's sealing the deal, pressing me flush to the rough brickwork with her entire body as her lips glide over mine.

  I melt against her, couldn't help myself if I tried. It feels so right.

  And yet it's so wrong.

  As harsh as this is going to sound, they shouldn't be here right now. I was supposed to drive my stake through their hearts before I left their apartment, but they trapped me. They connected with me in a way I've never felt for one person before, let alone two.