Bite of Silver: Alliance of Silver & Steam Book 2

by Lexi Ostrow

  “Who is Lucius?” She knew he was more than a hunter. His eyes were too dark to be human, which sent a shiver of fear through her when she considered what her father might have teamed up with it. “What is Lucius?”

  “As you have no doubt suspected, it is what he is that should be alarming.”

  The lift began to rise, and she flinched, both at her fear of it and at the unease her father’s words was stirring.

  “He is a Nightmare Demon. A being that can unleash night terrors, both to a waking and sleeping person, which can and does kill them.”

  Her lip curled in revulsion, and she shook her head. “Then why is he within these walls? Why does he consider us his family? What have you done, Father?” Her questions were snarled, and she didn’t care. He had let the enemy inside, and one had attacked her.

  “Do not judge me. That man, demon, almost lost his life after saving one of our own, because I was so torn about what had happened in Baltimore, that I did not give him a fair trial. He is on our side. He is mated to Eliza, the inventor. Surely, you must remember meeting her before you left. Lucius Willian has provided us with more information on who the true enemy is than we ever would have gleaned on our own. He is capable of taking down demons that could kill us with his gifts, and he has intimate survival knowledge on many. You heard Philippe say he saved his life.”

  The doors opened, and they stepped out into the ornate foyer. A metal bird flew past them and crashed into a wall, no doubt another crystal powered invention they were passing off as a toy. She didn’t flinch when she heard the collision, failure happened. Failure got people killed—like her family.

  Her thoughts consumed her again. She could barely recall her father was walking her to a carriage. All she could think of was the elaborate ruse she had fallen for. Two Illusion Demons had paired up to bring down the small section of the Alliance. They had lured her away, assumedly because she was the strongest fighter of them all. She had only found one body. Illusion Demon lost their image when they were dead, which meant there was still one out there. Hunting her or not, she wanted to bring it down.

  “Odette?”

  She heard her father and bit her lower lip. All she had for him was a disgusted smart retort, and she feared it would not go over well with her father. “I was not listening. I stopped after you made mention of a demon living and working among us.” She pulled away from his arm as he tried to take hers and slow her pace at the door.

  “Odette! This conversation remains in these walls. Guild business is Guild business.” His use of the word guild instead of Alliance was due to the grand doors being opened to allow them to leave.

  “I have no intention of speaking on it again. You seek to make me a prisoner until you are certain I am not a liability. I don’t have anywhere else to go so I will play the obedient daughter. But do not think to pair me with that demon on a hunt, or I will go and seek Felicia out and stay with her and her husband. I could help with her pregnancy.”

  She meant the words, Felicia had been at the guild when Odette had arrived earlier, round with child. They’d spoken briefly about her husband, and he’d seemed like an excellent man—working both as Captain of the Guard and with the Alliance.

  The sound that her father made as they climbed in the carriage could only be described as a chortle. He had a smirk on his lips that made her scowl, even if she didn’t know why it was there.

  “What?”

  “Greyston is an Incubus, dear. If you run from me to them, you’ll be living very intimately with a demon, and Lucius and Eliza are a mere few homes down.” He looked so pleased with himself she growled.

  “I swear. If this is what it has come to, we are all in trouble. I’m actually grateful you’re pairing me with your best hunter. It means you won’t hold me back from a hunt, and you won’t stick me with a bloody demon.” As she had always done as a child, she slumped into the seat, crossed her arms over her chest and made an ugly pout at her father.

  “Well, it would appear you have something in common with Philippe after all.” He chuckled under his breath, and she looked out the window to watch the sun rise over the city she used to call home.

  Five

  Odette couldn’t help but watch the muscles in his forearms as Philippe poured a cup of tea for her. Four days of nothing but being stuck with him inside her home or the guild libraries should have been enough to drive her crazy. Yet, she slipped into an easy conversation, almost friendly, the minute she’d accepted she was stuck with a nanny. When he left her at night, she had the inexplicable feeling that she missed him, and then she would go to her room and see the painted portrait of her old life—of Shawn, Melanie and Tommy—and all thoughts of the charming Frenchman would vanish.

  At the moment, though, she was having trouble thinking about anything but Philippe Clemis. She cleared her throat as she accepted the cup of tea from him. “So, how long did they say before you could go back on the streets?” She took a small sip, and the heated water burned her mouth. Tea in America was something of a bad omen these days, so it had been some time since she’d had any.

  “There was no definitive time.” He leaned back in her father’s cocoa brown armchair as if he belonged sitting it; his broad frame filled it nicely. His hair, out of its queue, fanned out over the arms of it and almost blended with the fabric. His deep blue eyes didn’t move off her as he took a sip of the tea.

  She’d never understand how something so gentile could be so scintillating when a man like Philippe did it. She felt desire stir in her stomach, and she swallowed another sip of the hot water to push the feeling down.

  “Such a pity. I can’t fathom staying here much longer.”

  He snickered and set his cup down. “Trust me, it’s no splendid holiday for me either. You’re a sight to look at for certain, but you’re not much better than a burr in a horse’s arse.”

  She growled, and he snickered again. “I’ll have you know, my father overheard us last night and requested that I practice my barbed tongue on someone that was not under his employ should it cause you to decide to leave. So, as much as I would love to respond to your churlish comment, I will not.”

  Truthfully, she’d always failed to hold her tongue and say the proper thing, so it was certainly a challenge. Growing up without a mother and inside the guild, even at the early stages of the Alliance, had left her more man than woman in her actions. Philippe Clemis stirred her in a way not even her husband had, and it unnerved her.

  For four days, they had done all manners of trivial tasks, from taking a spot of tea to playing with the metal cat her father had procured from her friend Eliza. Apparently, she had grown skilled at manipulating the crystals’ properties enough to animate the creatures to walk, and in the case of her dog, appear to think. Everything seemed to stir a passion in her now, and Odette was happy for her. No matter what they did, though, her thoughts never stayed on anyone but Philippe for too long.

  When she watched him, she wanted him. Not for his personality, as he was as cold as they came towards her, but for his passions. The way he attacked everything he did with such ferocity was intriguing to her. He was a noble man, a soldier for France before the Alliance had become his employer. Nothing seemed to penetrate him when he was working. She’d watched him prepare the tea with his jaw set in such a tight line that she had contemplated bouncing a tea bag off of it to see how far it would go, or if he would even notice.

  Then there were his looks. He’d been sculpted to perfection. Every muscle was round and thick. His eyes had a way of staring into her soul when he looked at her. It made her uneasy as much as it made her want to demand what he saw in them. He looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman in the room, and yet when they drew too close together, he rattled off a French expression she couldn’t translate and leave the chamber.

  “Well then, perhaps you’d better tell him to reassign me. I can’t see us getting along much better than I do with the demons.”

  She pulled ba
ck as if he’d struck her, which his words had. The bubbling emotions that had stirred as they’d been bantering died as if someone had shot her with one of the unique guns. The teacup smashed onto the floor, and she felt a shard of it slice into her leg, and she cringed.

  “Shit! Bloody hell!” She immediately bent to pick up the pieces, and when Philippe did the same, their heads hit together. She snarled and pulled back to let him pick up the mess.

  “I hadn’t meant it that way. I just meant that we are incompatible. For instance, could you see us properly protecting one another on a hunt? We can’t even clean up a broken cup.”

  She shifted on the couch and pulled her long yellow skirt up to avoid the liquid. His hand brushed her leg, and she sighed, momentarily forgetting what had just happened as she thought of what it would be like to have those skilled hands touching her. Her body ached for attention, but she would not dishonor her husband. They may not have had a love story to write in the novels, but she had loved him. Their match had not been forced, and they’d had two beautiful children together. She had no right fantasizing about a man who’d just likened her to a demon.

  “Yes well, I won’t deny that much, Mr. Clemis.” He looked up, and his gaze was fierce, like a hawk spotting its prey. She felt her body weaken with desire and harden in anger at the same time.

  “Why did you address me by my surname?”

  “I felt it appropriate. We have been rather candid with our interactions. If we were not holed up in the guild or my father’s home, our interactions would be entirely inappropriate. Someone would think you were trying to court me. We can’t have that now, can we?” She inspected her lower leg and found the cut to be superficial. The blood line was thin, and the injury too small to worry over, so she ignored it.

  Her mouth went dry as he took off his coat and laid it over the spill. “No. I certainly would not be courting you. I don’t know the damnedest thing about stains. I’ll mark the spot with my coat. Be certain to tell your father about it so he can call for a lady to clean the mess.”

  She watched him as he stared at her. His eyes smoldered with the same desire she felt. She knew it. The tension hung in the air like a shroud as they continued only watching one another. She had expected him to have a retort for her comment on courtship. She had not expected it would sting as it did, though. She broke the silence first.

  “Why would you not be courting me?”

  His jaw dropped open, and he scoffed. “Perhaps it is because I’m your nanny, which by all means, is not the most appealing relationship with a beautiful woman.”

  She felt a flush climb her face as he called her beautiful, but she could tell that wasn’t the truth. He had a way of speaking in short, clipped sentences when he was annoyed. There was no playful tone as he’d said that, and for all the issues in the last few days, she had rarely seen him approach her with any semblance of anything but anger, disdain or mild intrigue.

  “You’re lying. Why not? Your prior statement was not an answer.”

  He couldn’t begin to fathom what the female across from him was getting at. For four days, he’d played nursemaid. He’d been her bodyguard, her food fetcher and even her bloody unpacker. Yet, he’d never minded any of it. In fact, he’d found her to be pleasant company. He just had no intention of her knowing that.

  She’d grown up at the guild, yet Thomas Agardawes had made sure she’d been schooled alongside the Royals. Her speech was flawless, and her handwriting was beautiful. Two feminine traits he had never known were attractive seemed to send blood to his prick faster than a nice bosom. She’d shown to be intelligent and easy to speak with on all sorts of issues. He enjoyed that.

  So why was he afraid to tell her something he told anyone who asked? Could it be because you want to break your rules with her? He shifted uncomfortably in the seat and sighed.

  “Why are you so perceptive?” he asked agitatedly.

  “I am my father’s daughter, I suppose. My mother, she was killed by a Fallen. Seduced by their blood until she went mad and threw herself off the bridge. I had to watch people to survive. I knew what lurked in the world. I suppose I learned that way.”

  He admired her at that moment. She spoke of a tragedy as if it was nothing more than a day at the horse races. She had grown up in an adverse world and had triumphed, only to have her personal demons come back for a second round. He wasn’t going to let them get her again. Whether it was what he was supposed to be around for, or not, Odette Cosgrove was under his protection.

  “You’ve dealt with a lot.”

  She nodded. “Most of the Alliance members aren’t as lucky as you. Most have had something stolen by the demons.” She cocked her head to the side. “You did not answer my question.”

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

  She smirked, and the playful light was back in her eyes. “So I’ve found a potential secret that the boastful Philippe Clemis doesn’t want to share.”

  “I am not boastful. I simply like to make it known whom and what I’ve killed on a patrol. I’m proud of what I do in the name of the Alliance. No matter that Lucius and Greyston will tell you, we need to be more selective.” Once more, he answered in a way to sidestep a question he wasn’t ready to answer, because he wasn’t willing to admit what he truthfully thought of Odette, even to himself.

  “Mmm. Still avoiding, Monsieur.”

  He laughed at her horrifying French accent and took a deep breath. He had no business desiring her, anyway. No harm in telling her, it would do nothing except make it easier for them to be stuck together.

  “I would not be courting you, since you are such a demanding female because I do not partake in pleasures with women.”

  An evil glint flashed in her eyes before she began to laugh loudly. “So you mean to tell me you fancy men?” She knew what he had meant, but was clearly spinning it on its head.

  He stood and walked over to her, careful to avoid the spill in front of her, and crouched down. He put his hands on her thighs, knowing how inappropriate it would be, and looked directly into her eyes. “Oh I can assure you, Ms. Cosgrove, I do not care for men. I know precisely how to take a woman’s body beneath mine. Where to draw a line of kisses with my lips, how to slip my fingers inside her warm core and tease the pleasure from her body.” He heard her intake of breath and gave her a predatory smile. “I simply do not have time for the distraction the pleasure a female’s body brings.”

  He pushed back and stood up. Her breathing was slow and deep. He’d struck a nerve with the beautiful Odette, as she had with him more than once recently. He hadn’t lied. He’d been with women from his soldiering days. He knew just how he would play her if the circumstances were different.

  “Oh.” Her comment was quiet, and nothing followed.

  He smirked and pulled on the cuffs of his tailored shirt. “Seeing as how it’s almost morning, I think it’s time I departed your company and headed back to the guild. I like to be present when the teams check in after a successful hunt.”

  Philippe didn’t bother to say anything else as he walked past her to the front door. “I’ll see myself out then.” With a grin she couldn’t see, he opened the door and took the steps in a little hop. He might not like the distraction a woman brought, but he was off rotation, and he much enjoyed seeing how they would interact now that she knew.

  Six

  Three weeks had passed, and his shoulder was fully healed. Not that it had stopped him from hunting previously, but it felt right to hold his gun without worry of pain tearing up his arm and putting him and Odette in danger. He looked over at the woman standing beside him and felt his desires swirl.

  Odette was holding the crystal gun aimed directly at an Incubus Demon. His mating scent was driving Philippe wild, and the most infuriating part was he’d been lusting after Odette for the better part of five days, so it wasn’t just the damned demon. She had no idea how sensual she was to a man who had gone without for so long.

  “Do not move. Th
is gun is aimed to kill. We have orders to bring you to Greyston Westham. Anger me, and I will shoot you in this alley. I don’t much care for any demon, no matter how he makes a living.”

  The bitterness in her voice rivaled that which used to lace his own when he talked about the two demons working at the Alliance. Save for the slip with Lucius the night Odette had arrived, he had developed a sort of acceptance for the two.

  “I know of you. You don’t ask questions, so I have one. Why aren’t you just shooting me?” The demon took a step forward.

  Philippe groaned as the hormones wrapped around him like a blanket and caused his prick to swell under his leather hunting trousers. His body pulsed with desire, but he had to stay focused. If the demon was affecting him that badly and had turned its sights to Odette, she was the one in trouble. He would not admit it aloud, as he harbored no love for men, but the man was a sight to see. Just as all Incubi were. He easily matched Greyston in height and broad build; with a head of blonde curls and blue eyes, that Philippe was sure pierced into the soul of whoever he looked at.

  The Incubus took another step closer to her, and Philippe drew his own gun, training it as closely as he could on the demon’s abdomen. It wouldn’t kill him, and Greyston could question the other demon about human and Incubus babies. If it weren’t for the fact that he cared for Felicia, he wouldn’t have given a damn. They’d had to search for three days before Greyston overheard tales of sexual exploitation that could only belong to one of his kind. The mission was to capture, not kill.