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

by Lexi C. Foss

  I scoot my chair back and stand. “Thank you, mistress.” I bow to the eavesdropping lesser fae.

  She gives me a nod in return. “Of course, you’re always welcome at my fire.”

  “Thank you.” I fasten my elven cloak and double lace my boots.

  The high fae stands as if he’s readying to come with me.

  “Listen, high fae, you don’t—”

  “Darynder.”

  “Bless you.” I rope my hair behind me and tie it back with an elastic.

  “My name is Darynder.”

  “Right.” I nod. “Darynder, you can come with me if you want, but I can’t imagine this is going to be easy or pretty.”

  “Wherever you go, I go.” He stares down at me, totally unruffled.

  What do I even say to that? Nothing, I guess, because I turn to the door and swing it open, only to be greeted by a pair of unicorns standing outside.

  “What the fuc—”

  “We need transport.” Darynder scoots me out of the tavern and into the street.

  “Not on unicorns.” I dig in my heels before we reach them. “No way.”

  “They’re swift, and these two are warded against the cold.” He keeps pulling me forward, his strength far greater than mine.

  “No, thanks. I’d rather my feet turn black again.” I shake my head and try to smack his handsome face. “Get your hands off me or I swear to the Ancestors I’ll make you a eunuch and shove your severed—”

  He finally lets go and shakes his head. “What do you have against unicorns?”

  “I hate them.” I cross my arms over my chest as the wind howls past in a blast of snow.

  The first unicorn neighs. “Get on my back. I’ll give you a nice ride, one that’ll make you juicy, if you know what I mean.”

  “I want her on my back. Feel that heat she’s got between those legs. Hot for that hunk of high fae.” The other unicorn chuffs.

  “For me, you mean.” The other one bobs its head toward me. “Right, sweetheart? You want to ride on all this, don’t you?”

  I stare up at Darynder. “That, high fae, is why I hate unicorns.”

  6

  Darynder

  “Everyone knows unicorns are bawdy and lewd. Everyone.” I stare down at her. “It’s no secret. And despite their drawbacks, they make far better time than we do on foot.”

  “No.” She shakes her head.

  “Cockblock,” the bigger unicorn mutters.

  I glance at him. “Shut your snout or I’ll muzzle you.”

  “He likes it kinky.” The other one sniggers.

  “I can’t deal with that.” She waves a hand at them. “I’d rather walk.”

  “The townspeople have no horses to spare, and the nearest town is a day’s journey south. I’ll happily take you—”

  “Going north.” She closes her eyes and hums lightly. “Yep, north. Don’t have time for a jaunt southward, but thanks for asking.” She winks and turns her back to me.

  I have to fight the urge to grab her and throw her over my shoulder. She isn’t like the noble females at the winter court. They’re eager to find their mates now that Leander and the new queen have broken the curse that kept the winter realm fae from discerning their fated loves. But this female hasn’t been party to the curse or the longing. No, if I had to guess, I’d say she was quite young. Her changeling blood is mixed with other strands, so there’s no way to know her age for certain.

  She strides off into the snow, her steps certain as she makes it onto the road and fights the wind to stay upright.

  “Found your mate, eh?” The bigger unicorn walks to stand beside me. “I can smell it all over you. Her, not so much. Though she does carry your scent. Something feline? A big pussy? Is that what you are when you go feral?”

  The other stallion snickers again.

  I keep her in my sights as I sigh loudly so both unicorns hear. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to make our way north without your assistance.”

  “Good. Less work for us.” The big one snorts.

  “Sorry to say the mistress of the house informed me that you two were set to be used as meat, given the loss of the tavern. Until someone takes it over and starts up the meat supply coming in, they have to eat something.” I pat him on the neck. “Farewell, you two.”

  They turn to each other, both of them speaking quickly between themselves about this unfortunate turn of events.

  I take several long strides before they catch up and trot in front of me, blocking my way.

  “Ride us.” The big one stomps his hoof.

  “Sorry, I can’t. You see, your mouths are a big turnoff to my mate.” I shrug and walk around them. “Stay. The people of this town need you.” I grin. “I can already hear their stomachs rumbling.”

  I keep going, catching up to my little mate with ease. She’s so small in this vast landscape of snow and mountains. She needs me to keep her safe.

  The unicorns run around us again and block our path.

  “What now?” Ilsa puts her hands on her hips.

  “Please ride me,” the big one asks.

  She rolls her eyes and starts moving again.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “Not dirty. Not at all. Just ride me like I’m a …” He seems to wince. “Like I’m a horse.”

  “I’m not falling for this.” She tries to step around him.

  “I swear by the magic, I won’t make any lewd comments until you let me,” he sputters out. The zing of magic coats the air in a brimstone sizzle as his promise is bound between them.

  She stops. “Seriously?”

  The other unicorn makes the same vow.

  She glances back at me. “Your doing?”

  I shrug and then lift her easily onto the bigger one’s back. “My mate needs transport.” Just the touch of her, even through layers, sends a thrill through my veins.

  She looks down at me, puzzlement in her eyes. “You are serious about this mate thing, aren’t you?”

  I reach up and take her hand, then turn it over and press my lips to the inside of her wrist.

  When she doesn’t pull away, I can’t control the immense pleasure that wells up inside me. “I treasure you above all others here and in the Glowing Lands. I am yours, Ilsa. Forever.”

  Her eyes widen. “I forgot how intense you high fae can be.”

  I smile, enjoying the way her heart speeds up at the sight. “I assure you, this is nothing compared to how intense you’ll feel when I claim you.”

  Her unicorn is practically bursting to say something filthy—his pearly horn flashing with light—but the magical vow binds him, and he stays silent.

  She pulls her hand back slowly as a lovely pink seeps into her cheeks. “Come on. Time’s wasting. I need to bag this vamp, then get back.”

  I jump astride the other unicorn and follow my mate into the snowy depths of the mountains.

  Perhaps she truly doesn’t believe I’m her mate. But her body knows. Her mating scent is still in my nose, the delicious promise of our claiming a whisper on the wind. Soon enough, I’ll have her beneath me, and when I do? I’ll please her so fully she’ll never stray from my bed or the warmth of my fire.

  7

  Ilsa

  The unicorns do me a good turn for once, carrying me to the next tiny settlement. Though it’s not truly a town or anything close. Just a smattering of icy huts with smoke puffing from obsidian chimneys.

  I yawn and stretch. We’ve been riding for hours, the snowy woods lurking to our right, and the endless mountain peaks to our left. Darynder’s eyes have been on me the whole journey. He’s had the grace to look away only a couple of times when I turned to glare at him. At least the unicorns have been blissfully silent while I’ve attuned my senses to the vast, snowy wilds around us. My prey lurks at the edges of my senses. Why did he come here of all places?

  “We should stop here.” I glance at the nearest hut.

  Darynder pulls up beside me, and we both dismount.

  As soon
as my feet hit the ground, Darynder jumps in front of me.

  “What are you—”

  “Shh.” He’s gone utterly still. Unnerving how the high fae can do that.

  “Did you just shush me?” I start to complain, but then I feel it, too. The quiet. The creeping sense of something wrong. The tang of old blood.

  I pull my blade slowly, the sword a gift from my grandmother. Slayers are in my ancestry, and I intend to make Granny proud.

  He turns his head toward a noise I can’t hear. But I feel it. Something dark seeping along the eaves of a particular hut. The largest one here.

  “Stay back, Ilsa.” He moves so silently, his feet barely touching the snowy lane as he heads straight for the danger.

  I roll my eyes. This ain’t my first rodeo, haughty high fae.

  Creeping around the closer hut, I watch as he steals through the snow until he’s almost upon the hut that stinks of death. Its fire is dark, no smoke rising from its chimney.

  I ease around to the back, my steps nowhere near as silent as Darynder’s. But I’ve got skills all the same. A mortal would never hear my footfalls. The high fae, though, shoots me a warning glare before reaching for the door.

  I return it with a wide grin.

  When he pushes open the door of the hut, two things happen.

  One, a scream sounds so loudly I think my ears might burst.

  Two, Darynder disappears into the doorway, grabbed by at least a dozen pale, bloodless hands.

  “The hell?” I shake my head.

  The door slams. The screaming stops. But no Darynder.

  “What the hell?” I ask again as I creep around to the door. There are no windows, no way for me to peek inside. But I feel a commotion, the wood and stone walls practically vibrating as I reach for the door.

  Bracing myself and expecting another piercing shriek, I rip open the creaky door.

  Inside is a melee that warms my heart and has me smiling at my good fortune.

  A nest of succubi, each of them trying to take a bite of Darynder. They’re starved, their bodies emaciated and their faces skeletal.

  One rushes me, and I ram my blade through her crusty heart and twist the blade. She gives me a reeking scream before failing and withering.

  One lusty lady is fighting to yank Darynder’s pants down while the others try to hold him or sink their fangs in for a taste. Two lie dying on the floor, their bodies shriveling as the others ignore them.

  “Get off!” he roars.

  And I have to admit, seeing him in battle … I’m impressed. For a noble, he knows how to wield a blade. Not a single fang has pierced him, and he’s making quick work of these filthy demons.

  Possibly one of the only creatures worse than vampires, succubi gain energy from drinking blood and having sex with their victims. Blood is actually a poor substitute for them, but these ladies don’t seem to care.

  Darynder mows down the one in front of him, then swings a wide arc with his own sword, clearing the space. It’s a small hut, and he fills it with his muscled body, the succubi like futile waves crashing on stone.

  I could help him, but I’d rather watch. He’s so smooth, so strong, and the way his body moves beneath the leather is something I could watch for hours. Heat courses through my blood, and I press my thighs together as a tingle jolts through my ladybits.

  He lifts his gaze to me, those dark eyes full of knowing, and a smirk turns the corner of his lips as he destroys two more succubi with one thrust.

  Thrust. I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

  He takes out another, ending her unholy screech, and steps toward me. Another flings herself at him, and he catches her by the throat, squeezes it, then shoves his blade through her until she shrivels and falls.

  When he makes it to me, sweat slicks his brow, and he stares down at me with an intensity that almost burns.

  He leans down, his mouth so close to mine. “I can scent you, mate. Your desire.” His voice is a mix of feral and fae, and my panties may not survive the tone he’s using.

  Lifting a hand, he rests it lightly at my throat. How can one simple movement be so possessive, and so damn hot?

  “You want my kiss, my claiming bite.” He licks his lips. “And you want this.” Taking my free hand, he presses it to the long, hard shaft in his pants.

  Holy shit. No wonder the succubi were all over him. He’s got it where it counts.

  My heart stampedes, my breathing coming in bursts, and when he comes even closer, his lips only a breath away, I say just one word to him.

  “Duck.”

  8

  Darynder

  I drop to my knees right as she swings her sword and cuts the last succubus in half. The scent of my mate’s wet cunt almost turns me feral, the beast inside me awake and desperate for a taste of her.

  Leaning closer, I inhale her, one of my hands sliding up the back of her warm thigh as the succubus falls behind me.

  She clears her throat. “Are you, um, smelling my pus—”

  “Yes.” I inhale again before climbing to my feet. “Your scent would bring any fae to his knees, but it’s all mine.” I pull her to me.

  Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t push me away. “So possessive of something you don’t own.”

  “I will. Soon enough.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Cocky high fae.”

  I press my hardness against her. “You’ve no idea, beautiful mate.”

  And when I kiss her? When I take her perfect mouth? She sighs, her body going soft and lax in my arms as I lift her to me, rubbing her body against mine as I ease my tongue into her hot mouth.

  She still has her sword in one hand, but she uses the other to grip my hair, her fingers tangling there and pulling as I walk her outside and pin her to the side of the cursed hut.

  My fangs are already lengthening, my need to impale her in every way that counts thumping through my veins. I can’t keep myself from her. She needs to be covered in my scent, my mark, even my come. I want to rub it into her skin so any male that sees her will know that she belongs to another. To a fae who will cut down anyone who seeks to take his mate.

  I growl into her mouth, and she moans low in her throat, setting my body on fire. With a quick move of my hips, I grind against her, pressing my hard cock against her warmth. A shiver pulses through her, and she pulls my hair harder.

  “You killed ‘em.” A voice comes from behind me.

  My need to protect my mate overcomes every other concern, and I whirl, my blade at the ready.

  A lesser fae floats above the frozen road, his icy wings keeping him aloft. “We’ve been trying to get rid of them ever since they showed up. Eventually all I could do was shut ‘em up in that hut and hope they killed each other off.” He scratches his bulbous nose with a crooked finger. “But I reckon you took care of it for us.”

  I ease up slightly, but I don’t drop my sword. Not when my warm, soft mate is at my back.

  “Hey.” She pushes past me, and despite my misgivings, I let her. The color is high in her cheeks, her eyes still glassy from our kiss. “I’m Ilsa, and I’m hunting a vamp—err, a seeker. Seen one?”

  “When did the succubi appear?” I add my own question.

  He crosses his arms, his pale skin shimmering in the light. “Ain’t seen a seeker, but then we don’t go out at night much now since we’ve had those screaming things locked in the hut. They’ve been here about a month, I’d say. They drained old Horace dry on every front, if you take my meaning. But I think he went with a smile on his face, if you were to ask me. His wife is a cold woman, the kind that doesn’t like to warm any man’s bed, if you follow.” He gives us a wry look. “So Horace fell right into those pretty ladies’ arms and into their cun—” He cuts his gaze back to Ilsa. “Their unmentionables, I’ll say.”

  “You can mention.” Ilsa shrugs. “So you haven’t seen a full-fledged seeker? Just these succubi?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Where there are succubi, there ar
e seekers.” I glance at Ilsa.

  “I know that, haughty high fae.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m a slayer.”

  She’s gone back to keeping me at a distance, not using my name, and now refusing to meet my gaze. She’s fighting our mate bond, but soon enough she’ll feel it, too. And when she does, I’ll be ready to ease her desires, see to all her needs, and bind her to me until the Ancestors call us home to the Glowing Lands.

  9

  Ilsa

  What am I doing? I ask myself that question over and over again as we follow the lesser fae to the largest of the huts.

  “Name’s Ferramus.” He leads us inside and closes out the cold behind us.

  A redcap sits in the corner muttering to himself angrily. Three more lesser fae huddle around a small fire.

  “They killed the screamers,” Ferramus proclaims as I stomp the snow from my boots.

  “To the Spires with those horrid things.” A lesser fae with faintly green skin and cat eyes looks up from her spot by the fire.

  “They’re inquiring about seekers,” Ferramus adds as he sidles up to the small bar against the back wall and pours three drinks into acorn cups.

  The redcap stops muttering.

  I turn to him. “Have you seen one?”

  He glares at me, menace written all over him.

  Darynder steps in front of me, blocking my view with his wide, strong, mouth-wateringly powerful back. Wait, what? I shake my head. My thoughts are going all fuzzy, and I haven’t even had a drink yet.

  “She asked you a question,” Darynder’s voice is low, dangerous.