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

by Lexi C. Foss

  A hellhound, I mused, having finally grasped the type of animal that had followed Kseniya around with such loyalty. I hadn’t gotten close enough to her to realize her true breed until now. Such a beautiful creature, something I’d told her after breaking into Kseniya’s residence.

  The hellhound had been disgruntled at first, her snarl one that had made my lips twitch. But the moment she met my gaze, she’d sat down and canted her head in a curious way. She’d recognized me, confirming her intelligence. I’d spoken to her quite a bit while preparing dinner.

  Her shrewd gaze suggested she’d understood every word, including my threats to kill her master. Yet she hadn’t done a damn thing to try to stop me, something I found fascinating.

  For such a loyal animal, I’d expected a fight. Instead, she’d just returned to the couch to lie lazily along the cushions. I’d rewarded her with a raw steak.

  “Luci?” Kseniya rasped, her hand around her throat as she made her way into the kitchen, murder in her expression.

  “Is that your little hellhound’s name?” I asked, glancing at her from the stove.

  A snort from the living area confirmed it for me.

  I peeked around the wall toward the couch and found the beast giving me a lopsided grin with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.

  “Hmm,” I hummed, then went back to the stove.

  Kseniya pushed past me to check on the hellhound herself, then scowled upon returning. “Did you compel her?” she asked, her voice scratchy and somewhat painful to the ears.

  I turned toward the now fully stocked fridge and pulled out a bottle of water for her. “Drink that.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Oh, we’ll get to that,” I promised, setting the water on the counter beside her. “And no, I didn’t compel her.” I nearly scoffed at the notion. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.

  “Sure,” she muttered, her tone riddled with disbelief.

  “Go check on her again,” I suggested. Since clearly your first glance wasn’t sufficient enough, I thought, mentally rolling my eyes.

  Compel a hellhound.

  Right.

  Kseniya left the kitchen with a huff. I smiled when I heard her trying to stealthily open one of the drawers in the living room.

  “I already found it,” I called to her. I’d scoured her flat for weapons soon after arriving and had secured every possible item that could be used against me. However, I hadn’t patted her down completely, which left a very strong possibility that she possessed a few blades or another gun.

  I sort of hoped she did.

  A sparring match would serve both of us well.

  She returned a moment later, her expression giving nothing away as she opened the fridge to peruse the contents. Then she went to the pantry door, grunted, and looked at the new cooking utensils I’d acquired for tonight’s meal. “Are you moving in?” she demanded.

  “Would you like me to?” I countered, smirking at her.

  She just grumbled an unflattering remark and picked up the water to guzzle half the contents.

  “You’re mortal now,” I reminded her yet again. “You’ll need to drink and eat regularly.”

  “Your concern is touching,” she deadpanned.

  “Oh, I’m not concerned, darling. I just want you to last long enough for me to enjoy destroying you.” I plucked a handful of spices from the cupboard—all ones I’d procured for this meal—and added them to the tomato sauce simmering in the pot. Then I went back to preparing the chicken.

  She watched my every move, the exhaustion in her expression holding a touch of wariness and a heavy dose of confusion.

  “What did you think of my present?” I asked as I flipped the meat in the skillet. It was almost done, just like the garlic bread in the oven. I thought it’d be a fun play on the differences between a real vampire and those she’d spent the last century hunting.

  “You didn’t kill those humans,” she replied, surprising me. I’d expected a lot of comments from her, but not that one.

  “Of course I didn’t.” I frowned at her. “Why the hell would I?”

  “But you wanted me to find them.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Because you know who the killer is and you want to taunt me with that knowledge.”

  I stopped stirring the sauce to gaze down at her. “Actually, I don’t know who your sloppy murderer is, but he’s become quite the nuisance. He started up his antics around the time I arrived, painting me as a suspect among the vampires in this region. Fortunately, they’ve since seen reason. I have no desire to provoke a wolf pack.”

  I shuddered at the very thought.

  The shifters of this world weren’t well known, but I gathered they were at least somewhat similar to the ones back in our home realm. And the last thing I wanted was to start a war with a bunch of angry wolves.

  “Wolf pack?” she repeated, her brow furrowing.

  “Yeah.” I returned to my task on the stove, then checked the oven. “I found those bodies yesterday and thought you might want to check them out. They had the stench of your culprit all over them. Maybe they’ll give you some sort of clue.” It’d been a natural thing to point her in the right direction. Mostly because it left her in my debt, something I very much desired.

  Crippling an enemy who also felt indebted to me would create the most bittersweet end.

  I nearly sighed at the thought.

  Then went back to finishing up our dinner.

  “Why would you help me?” she asked, sounding uncertain.

  “Because I can,” I replied, refusing to give her more. “Go set the table.”

  To my surprise, she obeyed, fetching the plates and some silverware, and even taking my wine glass and her water bottle over. It was a tiny little table just off to the side of the kitchen. I doubted she used it much, as it was tucked into a corner with outdated lighting. Her living area at least had windows.

  I suspected her place in Chicago was nicer, but hadn’t ventured inside it. I hadn’t wanted to risk her sensing me at all, therefore choosing to stick to the shadows all those months I’d watched her. It was almost a relief to finally talk to her.

  Because it meant I was that much closer to my goal.

  Not because I’d missed her.

  She said nothing as I decorated the table with food. Nor did she try to serve herself, so I made up a plate for her of pasta, sauce, chicken, vegetables, and garlic bread on the side. When I finished, I crafted my own, then leaned back in my chair to study her position across from me.

  “Eat,” I told her.

  A muscle ticked in her jaw. “Why?”

  “Because you need to,” I said, noting her trembling shoulder. “You’re a Romanov by blood, which makes you stronger and more resilient than an ordinary human. But you’re not a pure Romanov.”

  Kseniya was Anastasia Romanov’s third cousin, which made her a descendant with enhanced physical attributes. However, only those in the primary line—or those among mixed slayer family lines—maintained all the gifts of a true slayer. So while Kseniya’s father was a purebred, her mother had been a mere human. Which made my little killer a hybrid of sorts.

  “You still have weaknesses—weaknesses you seem to have forgotten through reliance on your amulet.” I tsked at her. “The Kseniya I knew never would have allowed such a slip in her training.”

  “The Kseniya you knew was reborn when she accidentally teleported to this realm with no way back,” she snapped. “Oh, and why did that happen? Because your kind destroyed the palace.”

  “Accidentally teleported?” I repeated, arching a brow. Was that the story she intended to tell?

  She waved a hand at that. “Portal-jumped. Whatever you want to call it.” She leaned forward. “How did you get here?”

  “How did you?” I countered.

  “Rowan. I think.” She shook her head. “Just tell me—do you know how to go back?”

  “Of course I do.” I glared at her. “Now eat
your damn food.”

  “Are you just saying that?”

  “No, I very much mean it. If you don’t take a bite, I’ll feed you myself, and trust me, Kseniya, you won’t like that at all.”

  “I mean about going back. You can do it?”

  “Stop derailing the subject and eat.” I laced that final word with a hint of compulsion.

  Her pupils flared in response, her anger palpable. “Bastard.” Even while she said it, her fork worked to twirl around some noodles and sauce, bringing it to her alluring mouth.

  I smiled as she chewed and swallowed. “Good girl.”

  She flipped me off and ate more, my compulsion weaving through each of her movements, forcing her to comply. My stubborn little slayer would rather argue with me than take care of herself, so I’d do the honors for her.

  The bruises surfacing around her neck contradicted my assessment, but only slightly.

  When she’d finished half her plate, I allowed my compulsion to wane. However, she kept eating, her own hunger having taken over.

  So I joined her in enjoying the meal. It was a bit heavy on the onion, something I blamed on the spices I’d procured. The Americans in this realm really took pleasure in their salt as well, a fact I didn’t particularly favor in terms of food preparation.

  Twenty minutes of contented silence passed between us. As Kseniya neared the end of her bottle, I stood to retrieve her two more, setting them before her without a word. Then I topped off my wine. I would have offered her some, but I knew from experience that she didn’t care for the substance. The only alcohol she ever indulged in was vodka—a Romanov family favorite.

  She set her fork down, her plate clear.

  I followed suit, watching as the color returned to her cheeks.

  Much better, I thought, pleased to see her well fed and rejuvenated once more. “Tell me how you ‘accidentally teleported,’ ” I said, curious to hear the lie she’d crafted.

  “Tell me how to go back,” she countered.

  “As if you don’t know,” I chided. “Really, Kseniya. You’ll have to do better than that.”

  “Do you think I’d ask you about it if I knew how to do it?”

  “I think you would, yes.” I smiled. “You want to know if there’s another way to make the portal now that you lost your amulet.”

  She blinked at me. “The amulet can take us home?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re not fooling me, darling.”

  “How?” she asked, her expression a brilliant mask of curiosity. It was almost to the point that I believed she didn’t really know. But I wasn’t naïve enough to fall for such a trick. She’d known how to return for a century but just hadn’t bothered to. Because she’d left me to suffer.

  “Tell me, did you enjoy knowing what happened that night?” I asked her, curious. “Did you ever think about what was being done? How he intended to torture those he kept alive?”

  Naturally, I was referring to Grigori. The bastard who had caught all of Dimitri’s loyalists within the Romanov Palace walls, killing most of them on sight. Saving others, like me, for a worse fate.

  She growled at me. “I think about that night almost every day.”

  “Do you regret it?” I wondered out loud, knowing that she didn’t.

  Tears glistened in her depths. “What do you want, Cassius? To torture me more than you already have?”

  My eyebrows lifted. “You think what I’ve done is torture?” I nearly laughed. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re just getting started. Don’t tell me you’ve already had enough.”

  “Why now?” she demanded. “Why after a century of silence? Is there something else you need to use me to do? Another secret passage to take advantage of? Because I’ve gotta tell you, Cassius, I’m all out of useful information.”

  “The only thing I want from you, little killer, are your tears and blood. And eventually your death.” However, her other comments were… odd. Why would I use her for information? “As to why now, you know why.”

  She just stared at me with resignation in her gaze. “You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”

  Her statement confused me, so I said nothing.

  She laughed without humor, shaking her head. “For years I’ve wondered if anyone even survived that night. I know deep down that they’re all dead, that your master, Dimitri, would have made sure of it.” She spoke my cousin’s name with utter disdain, startling me.

  Why would she hate Dimitri?

  “Every day I live with the guilt of knowing I was to blame for it all,” she continued. “Because I trusted you when I shouldn’t have. I knew better. Yet I thought…” She trailed off, her gaze going to the table as she stole a deep breath.

  I waited on pins and needles for her to continue that confession. What did she think? How did she feel about leaving me there to die? Or was that the guilt she mentioned?

  And if anyone was betrayed by trust, it was me. Not her.

  “You know what? It doesn’t matter what I thought, does it? You’re here to finish the job. That’s fine. But if you win, you’ll have to live with the knowledge that you only won because you disarmed me entirely by stealing my amulet. You rigged the game to make me lose before it even started. Just like you did a hundred years ago.”

  Wrong. I never rigged anything. I played fair. Always. However, she didn’t appear to be done with her rant, so I allowed it to continue, curious as to what she’d reveal next.

  Her smile was sad. “You’ll never hurt me like you did then, Cassius. No matter how hard you try, I won’t give you the satisfaction of destroying me all over again.”

  All over again? I repeated to myself. What the hell is she talking about?

  She stood, planting her palms on the table and leaning forward. “So do your worst, Cassius. Play your game. Just know that nothing you can do to me now will ever compare to that night. Because that night, even with the compulsion, you had my heart. And I’ll never give something so precious to you ever again.”

  I shot to my feet, grabbing her wrist before she could leave the room. “What compulsion?” I demanded. I had a myriad of questions plaguing my mind at her speech, but that was the one that won out among my thoughts.

  “You compelled me to fall for you,” she said, her tone so utterly serious I almost believed she truly felt that way.

  “I never compelled you,” I replied, circling the table to stand before her, my fingers still tightly wrapped around her wrist. “Why would I compel you?” Making her eat tonight didn’t count. That’d been a necessary course given her stubborn response. But a hundred years ago? No. I never would have dreamed of tainting our bond with such a thing.

  “You seduced me via compulsion, Cassius. It’s the only explanation.”

  My blood raged to a smooth boil at the implication in her words. “The only explanation for what, Kseniya?”

  “Us,” she seethed, the word leaving her full lips on a quiet hiss. “I knew better than to trust you. Especially as the cousin of King Dimitri.” She uttered his name with that subtle venom once more, her hatred for him as clear as day. “But you won, didn’t you? Used me for the information and destroyed all the Romanovs. Except me.”

  “What information?” I asked her. “What the fuck are you talking about?” And what did she mean about me destroying all the Romanovs? She wasn’t making any sense.

  “Let go of me, Cassius.”

  “No.”

  “Now.”

  “No,” I repeated. “Tell me what you mean.”

  “You compelled me,” she said again, drawing us back to her earlier argument. “You used me, and you compelled me. None of it was real. Yet my heart still broke that night. Does that make you happy? Do you enjoy knowing I shattered under the realization of your betrayal?”

  “I didn’t compel you, Kseniya. And I don’t know what you’re talking about. You betrayed me. You left.”

  “Stop lying.” Soft fury underlined those two words, her anger visceral and palpable. �
�I know what you did, Cassius. You can’t change the past.”

  “What do you think I did?”

  She just shook her head. “I won’t play this game with you.”

  “Not everything is a game, Kseniya.”

  “With you, it is.” She reached for her gun in the next second, her movement so quick her fingertips brushed the handle before I could catch her.

  I snagged both of her wrists together in one of my palms and walked her into the wall, not bothering to be gentle or kind. She glared up at me, pain and rage bleeding through her violet eyes. I always found her beautiful before, but these new changes made her stunning, like a goddess encased in otherworldly energy. Gorgeous, really. And her ire only made her simmer that much hotter.

  “You think I compelled you,” I said, not a question but a statement. “I’m going to prove to you that I didn’t.”

  She thought to turn the tables on me, to make me think for a second that perhaps she was the wronged party and not me. She’d nearly succeeded. Because for just a moment, I almost believed she didn’t know the truth about what had happened. But how could that even be possible?

  I knew it wasn’t.

  She knew exactly how it all went down.

  This was just a trick. A way to taunt my heart with a flicker of hope.

  Alas, no.

  I saw through it now.

  And her comments regarding compulsion provided me with an irresistible idea for her punishment.

  “Oh, sweet, darling slayer, you’re going to wish by the end of the night that you hadn’t accused me of such frivolities. Because what we had was very real. Until you destroyed it with your actions.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but I silenced her with a bruising kiss, my tongue dominant and demanding against hers. She’d said enough tonight. It was my turn to speak, to play, to shatter her in the best way possible.

  “You’re going to masturbate to thoughts of me all night,” I told her, my compulsion strong and laced through every word. “You’re going to imagine me fucking you, licking you, tasting you. And no matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to come because it’s not me.”