After a much-needed eternity, she tilts her head up and looks me in the eye. “I must go, Stone.”
“So, you’re moving forward with this, then? I cannot persuade you to flee with me?”
“I’m capable.”
I embrace her once more and her small frame burrows into me briefly before pulling away and getting lost amongst the crowd.
There was an attempt on the Taoiseach’s life. The faith imbedded a plethora of concubines, but his power proved otherworldly. The destructive force of his talents, not only obliterated the usurpers, but wiped out entire sects of the religion as well. I’ve underestimated him.
44 Ellia
W ell, fuck! Of all the watering holes in the capital, Stone had to wander into The Jack Rose. Jack won’t be happy to see me. I doubt he’s forgiven me after Jaymes’s inexcusable bloodshed. Though, I suppose I don’t really care how Jack feels about it. He deserves to have a blood lusting assassin like me cleaning up the cesspool he’s created.
The door creaks open, and I slip in. The place stinks of lust and spirits as always. Though, with the amount of blood spilt during my last visit, I’m astonished there isn’t a lingering odor of corpse. The dark-wood floors likely camouflage the stains of murder, but Jack has acquired newly upholstered chairs and ironwood tables. We damaged a few, but he’s replaced all of them. Perhaps he didn’t like the idea of serving his customers on tables that survived a massacre. And ironwood at that. He clearly isn’t hurting for revenue, or new customers to replace the scum we sent back to Azure. Even if I were capable of sympathizing, I wouldn’t have the slightest bit of compassion for Jack after the sight of his rejuvenated whore house. He knows how to lure in the worst of them.
“As long as he’s alive, I will never have a life of my own. Jay and I will always be his pawns. I don’t know why… I don’t know why…” He slams his tumbler on the bar top. “…he has chosen to keep us alive. Do you?” Stone asks the weathered bald man sitting beside him. “And I don’t… I don’t… I don’t know what purpose he has for us… but I… I… we cannot live like this, Captain.”
He’s belligerent. That eliminates any challenge. What a shame. He will have no fight in this state.
“I must find a way to kill him.” His voice raises.
If he doesn’t quiet down, someone will shut him up.
“I must find a way,” he repeats. “But he’s so powerful…and I don’t know…I don’t know…where to start,” he slurs.
“Is this man causing you trouble?” I interrupt. I grab the older man by the shoulders and start massaging. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Aside from him calling me Captain Crowbill repeatedly, he’s been quite a hoot. He’s going to raise some pitch forks and storm the manor,” the man answers before turning to see who’s massaging his shoulders. “On second thought…yes. He has been bothering me. Maybe you and I ought to get out of here. Leave this drunkard before he causes any harm. Somewhere more private, perhaps?” he winks.
I pinch the base of his neck, jabbing my forefinger into it, and I cauterize his primary artery with rot. The man falls flat on the bar.
“Jack.” I greet the bar tender casually. “Nice to see you’ve managed to lure in more creeps. I trust you can take care of this one.” I wave my hand over the dead man. “Not my mission tonight.” I point to Stone. “Water. You’ve given him too much. He can barely use his tongue.”
“He continues to ask for more,” Jack explains. “I’ve given him so much already, and he’s still upright. Now I’m curious to see how far this can go.”
I glower at him, and he bites his tongue.
“You… Captain! Captain, are you okay? Wake up, Captain!” Stone shakes the dead man. “What did you do?” he raises his voice. “Don’t worry. I’ve… I’ve got this.”
He rises to his feet and places his hand on the man’s neck. I look around the lounge to see if he’s drawing too much attention. None thus far, thank Susy. It’s not on my agenda to remove any witnesses tonight. Stone places his other hand on the man’s neck, appearing as though he’s going to strangle him from behind.
“Fool!” I grab at his collar. “We must leave,” I command.
“No.” He shoves my hand away. “He’s the Captain. I can save him.”
“He’s dead, you fool,” I whisper in his ear. “There’s nothing you can do. Let’s flee before you claim responsibility.”
“No. I can save him.” Stone closes his eyes and lowers his head until he slumps down over top of the man.
“Dammit.” I sigh. “I’ll take care of this one, Jack. You handle the creeper.”
Suddenly, Stone’s body convulses. His shoulders twitch and his head shifts. Stone’s body falls off the stool, limp, the man underneath shrugging him off. The creep raises his head from the bar.
“What happened?” he says.
I grab his collar and force it down to view his neck. He acquiesces, still muddled from whatever Stone just did to him. There’s no scar. I’ve only ever seen the Taoiseach… But not from death. Grave wounds, perhaps, but never have I seen anyone recover from death. I look at my own hands. My brow tightens.
I look to Jack, who’s befuddled in a way that tells me he has no idea what just happened. He’s oblivious. Probably for the best.
“Something about imitating the Captain, and he attacked,” I reply. “I told you he was trouble. I’ll remove him.” The creep, still dumbfounded, watches in his stupor as I raise Stone to his feet and drag him out of The Jack Rose.
I don’t get but a few paces outside the door before Stone awakes. I let him fall to the ground. I thought maybe he would manage on his own feet, but I didn’t care one way or the other. He grabs his head and winces.
“What is happening to me?” He curls up on the ground.
“What the fuck did you just do in there?” I snap at him.
“Err…ugh…” He presses his head like a vice.
It’s pointless to discuss it now. He has no idea what’s going on. “You’ve been drinking poison. It damages your brain, temporarily making you feel confident and invincible until you do something so ridiculous it potentially leads to death. It’s called bourbon.”
“Is that why my head hurts so much?”
“That would be from draining too many liquids. You need water. Come.” I help him to his feet, not out of sympathy, but to hurry this up.
I take him to the manor. The Taoiseach didn’t specify where. He may not approve of me bringing him to his estate, but it will be no surprise to him. He has a way of knowing everything that takes place within his walls.
We enter through the back entrance of the fortified wall. Stone is still uncertain what is happening, but he holds most of his weight by now. I’m sure everything remains fuzzy to him. He may not even remember any of this when he wakes up tomorrow. It’ll be for the best. Who would want to remember being used? It’s a sour flavor. That means I must interrogate him now. Before I fuck him. And before he loses any memory of whatever he did back in that pub.
We enter the manor, and I get Stone into my chamber without anyone noticing. One benefit of being the Shadow is having hidden corridors to come and go as I please.
The Taoiseach mentioned spectators. I thought there wouldn’t be a challenge here, but prying information out of him before I lie with him poses just the challenge I desire. Instead of flowing left and kicking off my flats as I would typically do, I make my way to the next room with Stone in tow.
“Where are we?” he asks.
His words are no longer slurred. His talents are reacting fast to the toxins. I must be quick to act, or I will have to use force. And what man would want to remember being raped? That would go beyond sour to a rancid flavor.
“It’s no matter to you. Sit down.” I force him onto the bed. He starts caressing the silk fabric draped about it with a dull look upon his face. He’s still drunk but coming out of it quickly, no thanks to his rapid healing. “What did you do to that creep back in the pub?
He was dead.”
His head lifts to look at me before his eyes do. “Creep?”
“For fucks sake. You resurrected the man I murdered back in The Jack Rose! How did you do it?”
He stares, dumbfounded.
Goddammit! I’ll just fuck him first, then get answers out of him when he sobers up.
I kick off my flats. This dress is one that warrants the need for stiletto heels, but I’ve had it tailored for flats. I would never wear such vain footwear. It’s a handicap to my role despite the natural weapon it would provide. Not my style.
I place my foot on the bed next to Stone, massaging my calf. I allow the slit to find its way high up my thigh. “I see you’ve managed that first shave.” The back of my hand graces his jawline. “You have my name. Now, what are you going to do with it?” The chase is more pleasurable than the kill.
Stone awkwardly peeks and glances away, turning red and remaining silent. Innocence. Maybe naiveté.
I lower my leg and turn around. “Do you mind?” I ask while making a faint gesture at the fastener on the back of my gown. Nothing. “Elder?”
“Err…” I turn around. He is wide eyed and trembling. “Mind what?” he asks.
I sigh. If he is too childish to take me, then I will take him. I was hoping for more.
I slam him down on the bed, lift my gown, and straddle him.
“What are you doing?” He grabs me by the hips and tosses me to the side. I let out a gasping moan. His firm hands send shivers through my body.
“I’m taking what I desire.”
“I c-can’t.” he stammers. Not the alcohol, just discomfort speaking.
“Why?” I demand. He doesn’t have an answer.
I climb to my knees on the mattress. I suddenly want him to force himself on me. I want him to take me.
He rises to his feet, but he keeps his eyes on me. I allow a strap of my gown to fall loose, my legs spread wide as I kneel on the bed. Waiting. I’ve never had a man refuse me. My eyes narrow.
I want you.
“I just can’t. It’s not right.”
His words are perfectly clear. His line of sight is direct. He stands tall. His talents have rid him of the alcohol. That was too quick.
“I’ve only just met you earlier today. Well…reacquainted, I suppose. But that is all we are. Acquaintances. It’s not right. I should court you first, gain your respect, have you deeply care for me. And then, only then, should we take this further. And that’s to say I want to take it further. You’re a beautiful woman. Stunning. Exciting.” He pauses and takes in the view. “But who are you?”
“I am Ellia Rosewood,” I reply assertively. I shift my legs and take a seat on the edge of the bed, making sure they are closed tightly, but a touch of inner thigh remains visible. New tactic. “I’m Ellia Rosewood, the Taoiseach’s Shadow,” I reply more insecurely. “I’m here to do his evil bidding. I’m here to seduce you,” I confess. “It’s my role. It’s what the Taoiseach demands of me. I wouldn’t do it, but he demands it of me.” I’ve perfected the watery eyes. I turn my nose down to hide my fabricated sadness. “If I don’t, he’ll…” I trail off.
Stone sits next to me and puts an arm around me. He is naive. At least he’s giving me a challenge. I don’t just have to smile to get an erection. I lean into him and oddly feel comfortable. He squeezes gently. He’s warm. And masculine. I accept the embrace briefly before realizing I’m being sucked into his charm. Who is this boy?
I pull away but not too aggressively to startle him. I look into his eyes. A pure blue, like a crisp evening sky. Honest. Valiant. He stares back. He raises a hand to my face and brushes the bangs away. He smiles.
“You have beautiful eyes.”
I feel more warmth. Am I blushing? He obviously sees I’m a Graft, yet there is no fear. No anger or hate.
“As do you,” I reply. Dammit. Why would I say something so cheeky?
I stop talking and go back to resting my head on his shoulder. Why Stone? Why would Harris want me to seduce him? Harris is no doubt interested in Stone’s potential, just as he is with Jaymes’s, but he already has Stone under his control. There’s a higher purpose. The Taoiseach always has a higher purpose. I needn’t question his command.
After a moment of comfort, I raise my head and kiss him lightly on the chin. He allows it. I kiss him again on his neck. It’s less scratchy to my lips. I place a hand on his thigh and kiss him again. He’s not yielding, but he’s not denying it either. I kiss lower on his neck and let out a heavy breath. I slide my hand across his lap, ensuring I glide it across the necessary regions, and I plant it on his chest, slowly easing him backward onto the bed until we are lying down.
Several blissful moments later, I lay quiet, pondering our sins. Stone, obviously feeling uncomfortable, breaks the silence.
“Sorry. I…I’m weak.”
“You’re a man,” I agree. An impactful man. An impressionable man. A good man. But a man worth following?
“It’s irrational, but I feel a connection to you…”
Me too.
“I can trust you…”
No, you can’t.
“Though, I know it’ll lead to my death.”
True.
This kid thinks he’s love struck by what he found between my legs. I admit, not to him, but I admit there was a connection. It was more than just a casual experience. I know this because I haven’t slit his throat.
“Death finds us all. It’s no reason to close your heart.” A lie. He shouldn’t open his heart to me. I’ll devour it. “You have nothing to fear. We’re all a pawn to a tyrant, Stone,” I whisper.
His head snaps to study me. “It’s pointless, isn’t it? Anyone of relevance knows I’m not Elder Alderock.”
I offer a devious grin in response. “You tried.” I press my hand over his heart. “But this is too strong.” And the strong ones have the biggest weaknesses. Be careful, Stone.
He goes back to staring at the ceiling. I watch him, wondering what’s going on in his head. I try to dig into his sober thoughts, but there’s a wall. Some minds are naturally blank. Others too erratic to step foot in. And some are walled off completely from the outside. An inborn defense to Instincts. Stone is the latter. Irritated, I probe deeper.
“You resurrected that man back in the pub. The man you referred to as Captain. How’d you do that?”
“I did?”
Goddammit, he’s so damn oblivious.
“He’s not the first…” Stone opens up.
For fucks sake, thank you.
“Nobody believes me when I try to discuss it.” He goes quiet.
I clench my jaw and take a slow breath. “As they shouldn’t. Nor should you tell anyone else. This is special, Stone. And anything special is feared.” I roll to my side to face him. “I would know.”
“Yeah…” he agrees but doesn’t say anything more.
Resurrection is unheard of. It’s of fantasies only. Even the Taoiseach himself isn’t capable. What does this mean?
“Does the Taoiseach know? Is this why he’s after you?”
Stone rolls on his side as well, facing me. Close enough to kiss. I stroke my nails along his bare chest. He glances down at mine, then hastily corrects himself.
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
Short on words. I appreciate it, but damn, it’s hard to extract information out of him. If only he didn’t have that wall in his head, I would gladly dig to find what I need. He’d sense what I was doing, but he wouldn’t have the slightest notion how terribly I was violating him.
“Resurrection? Impossible. It must be his motive.” A new plaything for Harris. But what if he isn’t aware of Stone’s talent? An asset worth keeping to myself. If I’ve learned anything from Harris, knowledge is of the utmost value, for it can never be taken away. But it is also a curse for that exact reason. Still, I already have this bit of knowledge, so this relationship is certainly worth massaging.
I rub my hand down the bulge of h
is shoulder and caress his bicep with my thumb. “Do you plan to kill him?”
Stone’s brow curls as he considers my question. “I did. But—”
“There is a room,” I cut him off. “It might help you find the answers you seek. He calls it the athenaeum. It’s a place of his past. I’ve never seen it, but I have heard him mention it. Only once before. And his retraction afterward showed he undoubtedly regretted saying the word ‘athenaeum’ while in my presence. I know it holds secrets from his past, and it will likely help you with…” I pause for a moment unexpectedly. I find myself a bit…troubled. I have spoken of Harris’ death before. I have even thought of doing it myself at times, but for reasons unknown, I find myself choking on my own words while discussing it with Stone. Is it because I think he’s truly capable of carrying it out? Whatever. It will gain his trust even more so. “Sorry. I don’t mean to get upset about it. It’s just…Harris has been the only father I know.” I press closer to him. “I understand your troubles with him, and I understand the tyrant that he is, but…” A real tear wells up in my eye and streaks down my cheek. What the fuck is wrong with me? “…it’s hard for me. It is hard to admit his end must come.”
Stone runs his rough hand across my cheek, wiping away the tear. Dammit. Weakness. I let him pull me closer. He kisses me on the forehead and holds me tight to his body. I feel comfortable while in his arms. I’ve taken this too far. I must stop it.
I slide my leg between his, delicately brushing against his manhood. I can feel he understands my invitation instantly. Stone’s hands gently massage me, and it quickly turns more carnal. He handles me with a tender force I wouldn’t be able to resist if I wanted to. He moves on top of me, and I welcome him.
Just as the pleasure commences, the door to our room creaks open. Stone doesn’t hear it. I let out an exaggerated moan to instigate the confrontation that is about to take place. He thrusts, and now my ecstasy is genuine. My claws dig into his shoulders, drawing blood. He winces and presses into me harder.
Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Page 58