by Robyn Bachar
“You make such lovely noises,” he commented.
I smirked. “Glad you approve.”
He gently nudged me back, and then slipped one hand between my thighs to stroke my sex. I gasped, but then I tried, and failed, to frown sternly at him. “No teasing. We don’t have all night.”
“You did say I could make love to you,” he replied. He dipped two fingers inside me, and I shivered. “I prefer to be thorough.”
His fingers slipped in and out, as though accentuating his point. I opened my mouth to argue, but only managed a gasp as another finger joined the first two, and he pumped them in and out. Fast, hard and thorough, each movement brushing my G-spot—I hadn’t been a believer in the existence of the G-spot until I met Faust, and he’d converted me. There was something magic about his nimble, dexterous fingers; a millennia or two of practice makes perfect.
“Come for me,” he ordered in a low, silken growl. I had just enough thought-processing power left to manage an argument.
“Hey, I said we’re doing things at my pace,” I pointed out. My voice was more breathy than authoritative, but I got my point across.
“Ah, yes. Of course. Will you please come for me, darling?”
For a moment I marveled at the idea of anyone calling me darling, but then I clung to him as I was overwhelmed with a sharp, sudden climax, and I cried out.
“May I mention that the volume is also quite nice?” Faust commented.
I didn’t have the chance to think up a clever retort, because I was too busy moaning as he relentlessly continued to pleasure me. Judging by the volume of my enthusiasm, I’d be apologizing in the morning for traumatizing Harvey. When Faust finally gave me a moment’s peace, I tried to catch my breath, but he gripped my hips, maneuvered me into place and slid his cock inside my sex. I would’ve thought the water and the angle would interfere, but no, he felt amazing as always, and I threw my head back and moaned my approval.
He murmured to me, though I didn’t recognize the language. It was lilting and lovely, but not squeaky enough to be faerie, and it didn’t sound like any of the languages I spoke. Faust had never been one for endearments before, so I assumed that because I wasn’t the darling type, he was attempting a different route. His grip tightened until I was sure he’d leave finger-shaped bruises—not that anyone would see them under all my ink—and I gripped the edge of the tub as I rocked my hips to meet his thrusts.
Pleasure rocketed through me and I screamed, and he echoed the sound as he poured himself into me. I clung to him, reveling in every sweet pulse of his cock inside me, and kissed him long and hard.
“Shall we move to the bedroom next?” he suggested when he’d recovered.
“Yes. I’m exhausted.”
“I didn’t say we were finished,” he replied. I blinked at him, surprised, and he grinned. “Like I said, I prefer to be thorough.”
He drew the word out, his tone promising all sorts of wicked activities, and I suspected I wasn’t going to get to sleep for a long time.
Chapter Four
I don’t do a lot of business with the Order of St. Jerome. My repertoire of spells is wide enough that I don’t need things researched often, but I do, on occasion, need more information on targets or my competition. I prefer to work with Dr. Dannaher, the youngest of the three chroniclers in the area, because he doesn’t give me the goody two-shoes routine like Michael Black or charge outrageous amounts like Simon St. Jerome. But for this information I needed the best, which meant a trip to see Simon. That was fine by me, because I had a few choice words saved up for him for dragging me into Harrison’s crosshairs.
Faust—who I’d decided would stay Faust unless an emergency arose where I needed to use his True Name—bickered with Harvey as I drove to Simon’s place in the suburbs. Harvey was displeased at the idea that he’d be a fifth wheel instead of the main male in my life, and I didn’t blame him for that. I’d known Harvey much longer than I’d known Faust. He was like family, though that was a dangerous thing for me to think. Even a benign demon like a pooka was still a demon.
I turned down the road leading to Simon’s lair, and Faust cursed.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Wards,” he snapped, and then he and Harvey blinked out of the car. Whoops. I’d been expecting to lose Harvey when I crossed the boundaries of the magical barriers protecting Simon’s place, but I didn’t know Simon kept faerie wards up. Guess he really hated company. Well, Faust and Harvey could continue their bickering outside the affected area until I talked Simon into letting Faust in. After all, as I’d learned at breakfast that morning, it was in Simon’s best interest to hear what he had to say.
Trees lined either side of the crumbling road until I pulled into a clearing. I slowed to a stop and blinked up at the house. Fresh paint, what the fuck? I knew he hadn’t moved, because every magician worth their salt in the metropolitan area would’ve heard about it. Except for librarians, the magical masses don’t know about chroniclers or the Order, but if you’re important or powerful enough, like me, then you’re in the know about all sorts of interesting trivia.
Two cars were parked outside, a sedan and a brand-new SUV. I parked next to them and climbed out of my car. I’d indulged Faust and worn the skirt that he conjured for me—a conservative black pencil skirt with a matching jacket, complete with thigh-high stockings with a sexy seam up the backs and red three-inch heels. It wasn’t my normal look, but I could still kill a roomful of people in my high heels without breaking a sweat. At least I’d look good doing it in this ensemble. My heels clicked against new wooden boards as I walked up the steps and onto the porch, and I stopped and rang the doorbell. Another new development, because the door didn’t even have a lock before.
The door opened and revealed a dead man, but not the one I was expecting to see. Instead I found Maxwell MacInnes, a librarian who used to own a neutral ground café that I’d been to a few times.
“Huh. I heard you died,” I said.
“Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated,” he replied. “You’re here to see Mr. St. Jerome?”
“Yes. What’s with the home makeover?”
He ushered me inside. “You like it?”
I glanced around the parlor. The place had far more personality than Faust’s condo. Warm, inviting, with a touch of class…maybe Faust should hire MacInnes to decorate. “It’s nice. Is he up?” I asked. Visiting any bloodsucker during the day was iffy, because they were mostly nocturnal.
“Yes, but…” he trailed off, wincing.
“But?” I prompted.
“He’s speaking with the Oberon and Titania.”
I barked a bitter laugh. “Oh, goody. The gang’s all here.”
I knew the rest of the way, so I strode past MacInnes. The stairs to the basement were still a bit rickety, but I didn’t turn an ankle in my killer shoes on the way down. New appliances huddled in the corner of the room, another nice update, and the door to the library was open. It jutted out of the cinderblock wall looking less-than-secret, and my brow rose at the sound of raised voices within. Guess no one was having a good week.
Simon was seated at his desk, holding court as usual. The Titania and Oberon, Catherine and Lex Duquesne, stood glaring at him. I didn’t like Lex when he was a guardian, and it was worse now that he was Oberon, because now my ability to tell him to go fuck himself was limited by my faerie heritage. My faerie-blooded business was good, and I intended to keep it that way. I’d recently met his lovely bride, Catherine, and the jury was still out on how I felt about her. She’d gotten me into trouble, but I found her outcast status interesting, and watching her threaten to cut out the tongue of a witch councilwoman at a can’t we all just get along? pan-magician meeting was fucking hilarious. I wished I had it on video.
“Please tell me that you idiots aren’t coming up with new, fun ways to taunt Zachary Harrison, because I have to tell you, he’s really cramping my style,” I announced.
The room grew quiet
as they turned to look at me. I marched past the Duquesnes and stopped in front of the desk, pointing an accusing finger at Simon. “You son of a bitch. You sent them to my doorstep and told them about my background so I couldn’t throw them out. Now I’ve got Zachary-fucking-Harrison sending goddamn vampire assassins after me.” I whirled and turned my ire at Lex. “And thanks to you two, Kristoff Valkyrie is so pissed at me he punched a hole into this world so he could kick my ass down a flight of stairs and I don’t fucking appreciate it.”
“Valkyrie is here?” Lex asked.
“Yes, he is. And we can’t kill him here, and I don’t have a spell big enough to banish him. No one does, because it’s not supposed to be possible for him to get here in the first place. Which is why you,” I looked back at Simon, “are going to find a spell for me. Free of charge, because you owe me. And if you pull this kind of bullshit again you and I are going to have a problem.”
Simon leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. He looked bored, but I knew from experience it took a lot to piss him off. “Are you finished?”
“No.” I sat down in one of the empty chairs and primly crossed my legs. “Let Faust in. He’s stuck outside your wards, and he’s got information for you.”
That got a response, though only an irritated crease in his bloodless brow. “You want me to allow a shadowspawn faerie into my home?” Simon asked.
“Yes.”
“Faust is all right,” Catherine spoke up. “I trust him.”
I peered at her. That was unexpected, but they shared a Harrison connection, so it made sense that they’d met. “So do I, for what it’s worth.”
The chronicler sighed. “Very well.” He waved a dismissive hand, and Faust appeared next to my chair. He glanced around the library and bowed in greeting.
“Lovely to see you again so soon, my lady,” Faust said to Catherine. “I trust you both are well?”
“Just tell them,” I ordered before the conversation dissolved into chitchat.
Faust turned and glared at me from behind his smoky lenses. Turned out, this was the first test of our new relationship. I had to pry the information out of him over the breakfast table earlier that morning. Last night he’d mentioned that Harrison was gunning for others involved in the Titania debacle, but in the rush I’d forgotten about it, and he didn’t tell me who they were until I leaned on him. It didn’t bode well. Not that I’d be personally heartbroken if Harrison managed to whack all the members of the local Order of St. Jerome, but they were important, too important to lose due to a fit of temper.
I tapped my wristwatch. “Tick, tock, babe.”
“Very well. Against my advice, Zachary has hired several assassins to eliminate Patience, Mr. and Mrs. Michael Black, and yourself, Mr. St. Jerome. I suspect he is also targeting Dr. Dannaher due to his association with your sister, Marie, and your sister herself.”
Lex’s hands clenched into fists and I heard every joint pop. “Why Marie?”
“To hurt you, without hurting you. He did promise the Titania that he wouldn’t harm you,” Faust replied.
“Why the hell didn’t you mention this last night?” Lex growled, taking a step toward him. I was on my feet at Faust’s side before I even realized it. Huh. Protective instincts. That was new.
“Back off, Duquesne,” I warned. “He’s doing you a favor.”
“Marie is out there right now—”
“In the nice, bright sunshine, so relax,” I interrupted. “Call her, if you want.”
Lex stalked off, pulling a cell phone from his pocket. I glanced down and noticed, much to my surprise, that my hands had fired up when I leapt to my sweetie’s defense. I shook the flames out and folded my arms across my chest.
“So why didn’t you mention it?” Catherine prompted.
“Patience asked me to speak with the Oberon about the threat to her safety, due to the possibility of enacting the favor he owes her. As well as to inform you of Zachary’s intentions toward her. I wasn’t obligated to mention his other targets.”
“Do you know how many individuals young Mr. Harrison has hired, or their names?” Simon asked.
“Five in total, and I don’t know their names. They are from the west coast. I believe he may have met them during his trips to Los Angeles.”
“I don’t believe this. You didn’t think you were obligated to mention five vampire assassins?” Catherine asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You were willing to rat him out to protect her. Why not tell us the whole story?”
“What does it matter? You know now. Everybody’s fine. No harm, no foul. Can we focus on solving the problem instead of pointing fingers, please?” I said. “Oh, make that both problems. Demon and vampire.”
“You only care about saving your own ass,” Catherine accused.
“Bitch, please. You think Kris will go home after he kills me? He’ll come for you next. You and the little bun in your oven, so don’t get self-righteous with me, Titania,” I snapped in reply. The blood drained from her face, and she sank into the nearest chair. Good thing she didn’t faint, because her husband definitely would’ve slugged me for that, and I’d have deserved it.
Silence hung in the air like a storm cloud for several tense moments, and then Simon spoke to Faust. “You’re an Infernus faerie, aren’t you?”
I glanced from him to Faust. How the hell had he known that? I barely knew that, and I’d been repeatedly naked with Faust.
“I was,” Faust replied. His voice was strained, thick with an emotion I couldn’t quite identify—anger? Sadness? The temperature around him leapt about ten degrees, and I knew that was a bad sign. I lit things on fire when I got upset, and I was only part fire faerie.
“Tell me, how is Helen?” Simon asked.
Faust flinched—it was subtle, a slight flicker of movement that I might not have noticed if I wasn’t standing next to him, looming over him in my high heels.
“You know Zach’s mom?” Catherine asked.
Both men turned to stare at her, and I raised my hand like a grade-school student. “Okay, I’m lost. Is there some sordid, daytime-TV drama going on here that I should know about?”
The corner of Faust’s mouth twitched. “An accurate description of most faerie relationships. Yes, my sister, Helen, is Zachary’s mother, and yes, unfortunately Helen and Mr. St. Jerome have met.”
Judging by the tension in the air there was something big and ugly hidden within that statement, but Lex returned at that moment. “See, she’s fine, isn’t she?” I asked, changing the subject.
“She is,” he replied. He glared at Faust, his jaw clenched, and I knew we were still in the hot seat.
“Good. Can you find a spell to banish an ancient demon?” I asked.
Simon turned his pale gaze to me, and he no longer looked bored. He looked angry. “I can’t help you.”
“Can’t, or won’t?” I replied. The chronicler paused, looking from the Titania, to Faust, and then back to me.
“Magician cooperation, remember?” Catherine said.
Simon frowned. “With all due respect, Titania, I don’t believe you understand the magnitude of this situation.”
“Take care, chronicler. If you reopen this matter you will not like the results,” Faust warned. His tone worried me enough that I reached for his hand in reflex. He glanced up at me, seeming as surprised by the gesture as I was, but he didn’t let go.
“This is a lesson in magician history that should not be forgotten,” Simon countered icily. “The Infernus clan was responsible for the murder of dozens of innocent magicians. Their crimes were truly evil. Unspeakable.”
“For which all of us were punished, even those who had no hand in those crimes, like myself. None of which has any bearing on the fact that there is a demon loose in this world looking to kill Patience, who will surely turn his anger on the Titania and Oberon next. We both owe the Duquesnes our allegiance.”
“And yet you were willing to keep silent while assassins wen
t after my sister,” Lex accused.
“I’m not certain that Zachary is targeting her. Besides, Miss Marie is more than capable of taking care of herself,” Faust replied.
Lex scowled. “But you’d risk it?”
“To see Emily Black dead, yes,” Faust snapped.
Things had officially gone over my head. I’d met the woman briefly while doing business with her husband, but nothing appeared important about her to me at the time. Yes, I had heard the rumors that she was a seer in life, but now she was a vampire, and she still managed to seem nice enough. Even conservative by blood drinker standards. There was a kerfuffle over her at our first big magician meeting, where the necros and the chroniclers refused to play nice, but it didn’t involve me, so I didn’t particularly care about it.
“Why?” the Titania asked.
“Emily uncovered the Infernus’s crimes while she was a living seer. They were convicted due to her investigation,” Simon said.
“And you’re still mad at her about that?” Catherine asked.
“Mad?” Faust repeated. He coughed a short, bitter laugh, and I squeezed his hand. “The word is too simple. I don’t approve of what my brethren did, and yes, they deserved to be punished for it, but there was no justice in what happened to my clan.”
“Justice would have seen you all dead for your crimes,” Simon hissed. Damn, he was really pissed. I wondered if he’d lost someone, but I choked down the urge to ask.
“There are things worse than death,” Faust replied, his voice low. “I let my temper get the better of me, because an opportunity like this hasn’t arisen since we were banished. I won’t apologize, not after what I’ve been through. But don’t let your temper interfere with the problems at hand.”
“I warned Helen not to interfere with my family, and I meant it,” Simon said.
“Your family?” Faust laughed, and I flinched at the sound. Dropping my hand, he stepped forward and placed his palms on the desktop, leaning forward as he snarled at Simon. “That is amusing, coming from you, Simon Augustus Wroth. Where do you think you inherited the fire in your blood?”