by Hickory Mack
“They’re not the freshest, but they’ll work. Reaper, I need a kettle.”
Elsie opened her pocket dimension, and both Cross and Mouro peered inside curiously. The wolverine caught one of her bras as she started tossing clothes out to get to the pans.
“Do you always travel like this, love?” Mouro asked.
“No. Wren decided we needed to go on a shopping spree.” She handed Cross her mixing bowl, which he brought to Wren.
The wolverine shot an appreciative glance at the elemental spirit and held the bits of lace up with one finger. “You have good taste.”
Wren didn’t even acknowledge him. He was too busy using the dresser as a cutting board, slicing into the stems of one of the herbs. Elsie found the kettle, and he spoke to her without looking up. “Fill it halfway with water.”
Leaving her portal open, Elsie dashed out the door and down the hall. There was a sink inside of the little bathroom, but she’d rather get the water from the kitchen.
“Excuse me,” she said to a sultry-looking waitress with long rabbit ears pinned against her head. “May I have this filled halfway with water?”
“Sure, hon,” the rabbit shifter said, taking the kettle with her behind the swinging door. Elsie waited impatiently, glancing around while she did. The saloon wasn’t fancy, but it reminded her of any number of smalltown restaurants she’d visited over the years. They all tended to have that same homey feel to them.
The rabbit returned, and Elsie thanked her before taking the stairs two at a time to get back as quickly as possible. She breezed through the room without internalizing what was going on in there, too focused on getting the water to Wren. He paused and brushed a stray hair back from her face, reminding her that she’d agreed to stop using braids, yet here she was in another braid.
“Thank you, reaper,” he said, dropping a feather light kiss on her lips. “Go take care of those idiots before I kick them out.”
Elsie’s nose crinkled before she looked over and groaned. Mouro had taken every piece of clothing from her pocket dimension and was methodically folding them to his liking after looking each and every item over. Cross stood with his face in the entrance to the little dimension, his hands filled with her meager collection of kitchen supplies.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m going to polish these up for you. I work with metal, remember?” Cross said in surprise. Elsie sighed, and her gaze turned to the wolverine.
“And you?”
“Everything was shoved in there, completely unorganized. You have to fold them correctly if you don’t want them to wrinkle,” he scolded, holding up a lacy purple and black corset. “These fabrics are delicate, and you have to take care of them properly.”
Elsie tilted her head to one side at the same time Frida did, for completely different reasons. The cat wanted to play, but Elsie was just bemused.
“If you’re done playing, I have news,” Wren said, continuing to work with the herbs. Elsie sat at the edge of the bed between Saint’s huge paws and crossed her legs, ready to listen. Mouro continued what he was doing, but both he and Cross were paying attention.
“While you were gone, my brother came by.” Wren held up a jar of bright blue liquid, and Elsie’s stomach flip flopped. That was enough liquid to last her an extra couple of months!
“He managed to find this, and he came with some interesting things to say. We may not have as much time as we originally thought. Muethdee’s element has been balanced,” Wren said. Elsie’s heart thumped in her chest. The Key had only recently awakened the fire element, and now it was the second magic no longer feeding into the Dragons’ home.
“She’s moving faster,” she muttered.
“Much faster. Elda is awake.”
Elda, the elemental spirit of the dark moon. There were only three elements left to awaken now, and five to balance.
“Wait,” Elsie said, horrified, her mind flashing back to Main Street. “Cross and I saw her!”
Cross’ brow furrowed, and Wren turned to face her. “When?” the spirit asked.
“We saw the fox and the witches leaving, and the girl was surrounded by dark magic. It was spilling out all around her! The Key is mated to the fucking fox!” Elsie lifted a hand to her head, suddenly feeling dizzy. She’d just been guessing before, but knowing she was right hit hard. Things just got a lot more complicated.
That girl was her sister, but that didn’t make any sense. Elsie was the last reaper, and the witch was at least a decade younger than her. She felt herself go pale when she remembered that the witch was a half-breed. She was half witch, all right, but she was also half fae. That girl was another of King Charlamagne’s bastard children. He’d continued breeding them while in the middle of chasing her mother across the universe.
“No way…” she whispered.
“Somebody is going to have to explain to me what the fuck you’re talking about,” Mouro said. “You’re talking about Lady Chiori? What do you mean she’s the Key? The Key to what?”
Elsie shared a long look with Wren, trying to settle her nerves. “Wait until Wren gets his magical goodness inside of Saint. Then we should get some food. There’s a lot to explain, and I’m starving. We can talk while we eat.”
Chapter 48
Elsie held Saint’s head while Wren poured an elixir that smelled equal parts herbal and swampy into his mouth. The smell alone made her want to gag, but there was no response from Saint as it washed down his throat. Frost watched with his nose curled up in distaste while throwing non-verbal threats Elsie’s way. She got the point; he’d be pissed if she tried giving him any medicine like this one.
“That’s all of it. I’ll continue monitoring him, but at this point, it’s up to Saint. Pascal managed to secure a larger room with two beds. We can move the hound there once he’s stable,” Wren said. He started cleaning up with Cross’ help. Mouro had ordered their food then finished folding her clothes while the elixir-making process was underway, and now there was plenty of room in her pocket dimension.
The wolverine demon sat next to her, looking at Saint with a frown. “He’s really that important to you, huh?”
“Yeah, he is.”
“If this doesn’t work, there’s something I can try.”
Elsie looked up at him. “What is it?”
His dark eyes took on a red gleam. “You reapers aren’t typically gentle with the souls you take. There’s no finesse to it. As a necromancer, calling souls is an art form. He’s suffered an immense trauma, and not just physical. Your boy is barely holding on, and there’s nothing holding him here. If healing his body doesn’t work, I can call him back and anchor his soul to his body.”
Elsie’s eyes widened as he spoke. “What happened to him?”
“I have no way of knowing that. I can only speak with the dead, and even then, I don’t speak with spirits unless I’m seeking a contract or sending them on to whatever comes next for them. His soul isn’t a spirit yet.”
“But you can save him?”
“I can try, if that’s what he needs. Love, you need to know it won’t be easy on him either way. If healing his body works, it’ll be because he has enough fight left in him to bring his body and soul back together. If I have to do it, I’ll be forcing him to relive whatever trauma caused him to disconnect in the first place,” Mouro warned. “The positive is that you’ll be here waiting for him. You can help him through.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him with me,” she vowed. “Thank you for deciding to help us.”
“I’m not helping him. If I could snap my finger and make it so none of these other guys existed, I’d do it without hesitation. Fuck them. I’m helping you.” He scratched his beard. “I can feel your grief like it’s my own. I’m not a particularly emotional man, and it kills me to know you feel like this. If dragging this mutt back from the brink of death is what it takes to make you feel better, I’ll do it.”
Elsie regarded him carefully. There
was no lie in a single thing he’d said. He’d happily make her other mates disappear if he could. She wondered if he’d get over it in time, or if he was always going to be a surly asshole.
“I can accept that,” she said. “You guys will get used to each other eventually, and if you don’t want the rest of our lives to suck, you’ll all grow up and learn to get along.”
“Don’t hold your breath, love. Tolerating them is one thing, but actually enjoying having them around is another. The pretty one is already getting on my nerves, and I just met him.”
“He’s the earth spirit, Mouro.”
“I don’t care if he’s Akunin fucking Yaksha. I’m not afraid of him.”
Wren stood a foot away, a knowing smile on his face. “You should be, young man.” He changed his body into his female form, shrinking nearly a foot and growing curves in all the right places. “More importantly, you should be a lot more respectful, or you won’t get to play with us.”
Elsie covered her mouth, trying to hide the snickers of laughter at Mouro’s face. “There will be none of that anyway. At least, not until I’m ready to share.”
“Is that normal for witches? We all have to share you, but you’re not willing to share any of us?” the wolverine asked.
“That’s normal,” Cross confirmed before Elsie could answer. “Female witches can be deadly territorial over their mates.”
Mouro grinned. “Good. I’ll enjoy watching you claim me if anyone else tries to intrude.”
“We’ll see how you feel about it later, then,” Wren sighed, changing back into his male form. A knock came at the door, and Elsie sighed in relief. She wasn’t emotionally prepared to be having these kinds of conversations right now. Why couldn’t they wait until Saint woke?
Their food arrived, and Cross brought her a plate with nothing but mashed potatoes and vegetable gravy, followed by a smaller plate with steamed carrots. “Yes, finally! I couldn’t get potatoes to save my life in that place!”
Frost snorted at her, and the image of a fire danced before her eyes, followed by the feeling of a question. He thought she only liked spicy foods. “Hey, a girl likes comfort foods now and then, and I’ve been craving this for ages.”
The guys sat in various places around the room, and Mouro looked at her expectantly. “Tell me what’s going on. Why are you so concerned over Lady Chiori?”
“Because my reaper is the Priestess,” Wren started.
“And she is my Key,” Elsie finished.
Mouro’s brows lifted dramatically. “I have no idea what that means.”
Together, Elsie and Wren explained everything they’d learned and why they thought the fox’s mate was the Key. The wolverine listened intently, and most of the food was still left on his plate when they finished speaking.
“I’d ask why this topic hasn’t come up before, but I get it. It’s not the kind of news you blurt out in public to just anybody. However, darlin’, I have to tell you, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he said after thinking it over.
“I already know I’m in over my head—”
“Love, you’re not even treading water. You’re buried in the muck under the Mariana Trench. The devil’s black fox is a neighboring Lord to my territories. We share a boundary line. There isn’t a Lord in the area stupid enough to challenge him, but it isn’t even just him. He has well over a hundred contracted demons, fae, a hellhound, fuck, even a goddess. Have you ever heard of a boar named Fen?” Mouro questioned.
“No?”
“One thing that has to be said about the guy is he takes care of his people, and they practically worship him. The witch you want, Lady Chiori? She has power unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and she’s just a child. If she found out you had anything to do with the attack on him, the entire territory will become your enemy,” he cautioned.
“I’ve spoken with him,” Elsie said, and Mouro cursed.
“What did he have to say?”
“He told me he’ll come find me someday.”
“Lord Makkai doesn’t make idle threats.”
“I think he’d be willing to listen. Or at the very least the girl would. Chiori, you called her?”
“No, I called her Lady Chiori. You don’t skip the honorifics with these people.”
“I helped her. The hunters wouldn’t have brought her to see the fox this morning if I hadn’t stepped in, and that’s how he escaped. And when I spoke with him, I told him I’d help him whether he wanted to kill me or not.”
“Explain,” Wren said, his bright blue eyes trained on her.
Elsie told them about what she’d seen on the security screens while looking for Cross and Saint, then about the eight hunters she’d killed as a distraction. She went on to detail every encounter she’d had with the fox.
“He was in your head, and he walked just feet away from you on his way out of town,” Mouro muttered thoughtfully when she finished speaking. “He could have killed you then if he’d wanted.”
“He didn’t see us.”
“He doesn’t need to see you. He’s been in your head, so he knows what your magic feels like, your scent, your thoughts, the sound of your voice... Lord Makkai knew you were there yet chose to do nothing. That’s good news. Perhaps he saw something in you that made him change his mind. He’s been known to do that from time to time. We might actually have a chance,” Mouro said.
“You’re a Lord too. Is he really that frightening to you?”
The wolverine looked uncomfortable, as if admitting to a weakness was the last thing he’d ever want to do. “It isn’t so much fear as it’s acknowledging that he is the stronger demon.”
Saint’s paw twitched, and Elsie dropped her plate, lunging forward to touch his shoulder, hope filling her eyes. It twitched again, but then he fell still. “He isn’t waking up. The medicine isn’t working.”
“Give him more time,” Wren said. “It could take a couple of days for him to wake up. The most severe of his injuries are healed, so his life is no longer in danger. It’s the mental hurdles he must overcome now.”
“Is he stable enough to move to the other room?” Cross asked, looking at Frost. “It’s pretty cramped in here.”
“Yes, it should be safe.”
“Once he’s over there, I’m going hunting,” Mouro said. “I need some meat in my diet.”
Frost raised his head from the floor, his ears perked up. “Haven’t you had enough?” Elsie asked in disgust. “How many hunters did you eat?”
“Let him come. It’ll give him a chance to stretch his legs,” Mouro intervened. “Besides, we may as well get used to each other if we’re going to be hunting mages together, don’t you think?”
Elsie didn’t comment. She picked up her plates and set them aside before walking over to close her pocket dimension since her men had decided they were finished rummaging through it for the time being. Picking up Saint’s front end, Cross hurried over to help her.
Wren made a face but allowed it, following the procession into the larger room. The beds were queen sized rather than the twin back in Mouro’s room. It had the same chair, but also a sofa, a desk, and a larger bathroom with an actual tub. Frida situated herself on the arm of the loveseat, meowing in annoyance when she wasn’t given immediate attention.
Cross picked her up then flopped over on the sofa. The dampener was no longer in his system, but he needed a nap after everything he’d been through. Elsie took a step toward him. The witch looked so comfortable she wanted to snuggle in and take a nap too. He was the only conscious bonded mate she had right now, and she hadn’t had enough contact with him to satisfy the bond’s demands.
Before she could go to Cross, Mouro took the first opportunity he had to gather Elsie in close and steal a kiss. “Look after your boy and get some rest. I’ll be back soon.”
She laid a hand on his chest, reaching up to kiss him again. His offer to help Saint if the healing didn’t work lay heavily between them. They barely knew each other,
but the bond already had him willing to go out of his way to help her when she needed it. Else lifted a hand to his jaw, stroking his beard as he pulled her stomach against his. She wanted to fast forward their relationship; she wanted to know everything about what made him Mouro.
It was hard to let him go. With her hormones throwing her emotions into overdrive, she wanted to bury herself under a pile of her men and soak up every ounce of their love and affection. She wanted to ask him to stay.
“Be careful out there,” was what she said instead.
“Yes, ma’am,” he rumbled, releasing her and looking at the wolf. “You coming?”
Frost jumped to his feet and followed Pascal out the door, his claws clicking on the floor with every step. The door closed behind them, and Elsie gave a sardonic smile. Cross was already asleep, and she didn’t want to wake him by squeezing her way onto the couch now.
“I can feel your hesitation,” Wren said softly. “Do you want me to bring him back?”
“Yes,” she sighed. “But no. I can’t ask anyone to revolve their entire life around me.”
“It’s what I plan on doing.” The spirit came close, setting his hands on her hips and touching his forehead to hers. “Nothing is more important to me than you.”
“I missed you so much while you were gone. Ignore my awkwardness, alright? It might take a while to get used to seeing you like this. You’re a little intimidating as a man,” Elsie admitted. Wren tilted his head to one side.
“Why is that?”
“You look like what I’ve always imagined an elf would look like. You’re so beautiful it’s almost unrealistic. It makes me feel like you’re out of my league—by a lot. There’s also a little bit of an emotional disconnect? You were so warm and bubbly and always genuinely happy to see me. Since you returned, it’s felt like you’re much more reserved,” she answered.
“Out of your league?” Wren scowled and took the binding out of her hair, his deft fingers swiftly undoing her braid and playing with the loose strands. “I told you I don’t want to hear that kind of talk from you anymore. There is nothing more beautiful to me than you.”