by Holly Evans
Thirty-Eight
Tiel leant casually back against the wall of the lékárna, a little smile on his pretty mouth, his arms crossed across his chest. Lysander bristled and held me closer to him; I stroked down his hand and prepared myself for a pissing contest.
"Why are you here?" Elise snarled.
Tiel pushed off the wall and opened his arms, his eyes danced with dark amusement while his mouth spread into a broad smile.
"That's no way to greet your favourite man, priestess."
Elise appeared on the periphery of my vision, her fists clenched. Tiel had the good sense to keep his mouth shut as he followed us through into Kadrix's workshop, where the other two were waiting for us.
"You killed him,” Zair said.
"We told you we would,” I replied.
Kadrix eased Quin down onto a stool. Elise pulled out a silver bowl and some cloths.
Zair looked over them with his lips pursed. "He put up a fight."
"He hurt my twin, my hound, and my alchemist,” I growled.
He took a step back; Ioel was already pressed back against the bookshelf lining the wall behind him.
"You owe us a favour,” Elise said.
Zair's face darkened, his mouth tightened and his jaw clenched.
"We do,” he said.
"Until we choose to call that favour in, I suggest you leave,” she said.
Quin flinched when Kadrix applied some purple and silver gloop to his ribs. The elf brushed his lips over Quin's cheekbone and whispered something to him.
Lysander pulled my attention back to him. "If you wouldn't mind easing my injuries, Evelyn."
Guilt riddled me. I'd been so consumed with my own shit that I'd forgotten the injuries my dear hound had sustained. He peeled off his shirt to reveal deep black and purple bruises. Dried blood marked the edge of his ribs and painted the top of his jeans. I stroked down his chest, his muscles firm and warm beneath my touch.
"I'm sorry,” I whispered.
Elise passed me the bowl and a cloth.
"We shouldn't see those celestials any time soon. I'm rather tired of their attitude,” she said.
I dipped the cloth in the gloop and gently stroked it down over Lysander's injuries. He stood tall and proud; he didn't even flinch, despite the pain I could feel through the bond. Elise slumped down on a stool and watched with a wry smile on her face.
"How are you two? I could use some good news."
Lysander's tongue slid over his lips and he gave her his most devilish smile. I didn't look at her.
"That well?" she said with a laugh.
"Have you finally screwed him Evelyn?" Kadrix called out across the workshop.
Heat burnt across my cheeks.
"Was screwed not the correct term?" he asked no one in particular.
"It was the right term, hun,” Quin replied.
I glanced over at the pair; I'd never heard Quin call anyone ‘hun’ before. A smile sat firmly painted on his lips as he watched the elf tidy up the bowls and such. He'd never been that happy with any of the women I saw; it must have been love.
“Lysander looks at you the same way,” Elise whispered conspiratorially.
I stole a glance at my hound as he tidied a place to sit.
“Stop denying yourself, Evie, he's good for you." Sadness tinged her words.
"No word from your lady?"
She shook her head. "I feel like I'm ready for love, to take that step. My lady will send the perfect person when everything is ready."
I pulled her into a hug, it couldn't have been easy for her.
"Isn't this sweet?” Azfin snarled.
Lysander’s hackles were up, his teeth bared.
Quin simply rolled his eyes and said, “Jealous, Azfin?"
The Sidhe grinned and dropped a large red body on the floor. "This is what got through the hellmouth."
I walked over to it and nudged it with my boot. Haeyl rolled it over so I could make better sense of the tangle of limbs and bare red skin, marked with black infernal symbols and pale pink scars. An angular face with a narrow jaw and deep red lips looked up at me.
Lysander looked over my shoulder and snorted. "A low level demon. Judging from his markings, he was a banished slave. A worthless runt."
"How did something so low level get through?" I asked looking around the room.
"I thought the hellmouth opened further than that?" Quin added.
Azfin shrugged. "Not my problem. What price will you give us Kadrix?"
Kadrix raised an eyebrow. “You still owe me for the knives I gave you, and the amulet."
Azfin's mouth puckered before he huffed and the demon went up in flames. "Then we're even."
"How do you figure that?" Quin asked.
"I killed your demon."
Quin and Kadrix looked between each other. Kadrix's eyes hardened and his mouth tightened; Quin tilted his head and shrugged slightly. Kadrix looked back to Azfin.
"Fine,” he spat.
Azfin grinned and bowed low. "Pleasure doing business with you."
With that, he left.
Lysander visibly relaxed. A smile danced along his lips. Elise glared at the door where Azfin and Haeyl had left, but soon stood and brushed herself off.
“It’s been a long day, I’m going to retire for the evening.”
I pulled her into a tight hug; it couldn’t have been easy for her seeing us in relationships. My heart fluttered. Was I in a relationship with Lysander?
Elise kissed my temple. “Enjoy him, Evie, I want the gossip tomorrow.”
My cheeks burned and she laughed; Lysander’s growling chuckle only made my blush deeper.
“Did I miss something?” Kadrix called out.
“Nothing,” I replied.
He gave me a dark look and huffed but turned his attention back to Quin. “In that case, go home, or wherever you feel, I’m taking Quin for the night.”
“Charmed,” I muttered.
Thirty-Nine
Lysander had been particularly affectionate on the ride home. His lips grazed my jawline and his fingers trailed over my stomach and up my thighs. The nagging voice in the back of my mind that told me to push him away quietened with every thrilling touch. Elise was right. I'd allowed fear to hold me back for too long. I'd wanted nothing more than enjoy each and every inch of the sinfully sexy hellhound since the first time I'd laid eyes on him. My moment had come.
He nibbled down my earlobe while I locked the door to the flat, his hands roaming over my stomach and tentatively rising upwards. I turned to face him, surprised to see tension around his eyes, small lines around his mouth.
"Talk to me,” I whispered.
He nuzzled my neck and pressed me back against the wall. "This is what you want Evelyn, I want to please you."
I dragged my fingers through his hair as he softly bit down my neck; damn he was good.
"What do you want? You're tense." Words didn't come easily.
He paused, his eyes locked with mine.
"My place is to please you,” he said softly.
I bit his bottom lip gently. “And it would please me if you were into this, if you were ready."
He brow furrowed. "I've never been given the choice to say no before."
He looked away, the emotional pain wound its way into the back of my mind. My poor dear hound.
"I will not use you,” I said as I took his hand and led him to the bedroom.
"Strip,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow.
"What happened to not using me?" he said with a crooked grin.
"Leave your boxers on,” I replied with a grin of my own.
The idea of soothing and helping someone was strange; I didn't quite know what I was supposed to do, but I was determined to try.
"Lie on your stomach."
His mouth tightened, but he did as he was told. I climbed onto the bed next to him, kneeling and taking a deep breath. I hoped I was doing the right thing. He tensed when I touched him; I
left my hand in place on his shoulder blade and allowed him to relax once more. Slowly I traced each scar and mark on his broad, strong back. The white lines intersected, some paler than others. Gradually, his muscles melted beneath my touch. I felt a little proud of myself. Once I'd reached the base of his back I leaned over him and wrapped my hands around his shoulders. He only tensed for a second before he relaxed once more, a quiet purring growl formed in his throat. I began to massage him, rubbing the stress and tension from his firm muscles. My desire to explore and enjoy far more of him grew with each passing minute, but the decision had to be his. I was not his old master.
Once I'd released the tight muscles in his back and thighs, the purring growl had become almost constant. The warmth of his happiness filled me, bringing a broad smile to my face. He rolled over, exposing his toned abdomen and the rest of the thin white scars from his past. I watched his face as I trailed my fingers over the scars. His gentle smile turned into a predatory smirk when I reached the top of his boxers.
"My turn,” he growled.
I was more than ready for his eager touches as he made light work of my clothes, leaving nothing but our underwear between us. He refused to rush, much to my increasingly vocal protestations as he teased and tormented me. His teeth grazed my skin, leaving a trail of fire down my stomach while his hands slowly worked their way up my inner thigh. I tried to push him over and pin him to the bed; I wanted my prize; my patience had vanished with the feather-light touches he teased my nipples. He held me firm beneath him.
"Patience, Evelyn,” he growled as he kissed along the top of my panties while his fingers skirted around the edge of them.
My bra had been discarded some time ago, his boxers had been tossed aside, leaving only the thin fabric of my panties between us. He climbed on top of me, his tight body pressed against me, his fingers continuing to tease and torment me through the fabric while he kissed me hard. I dug my fingers into his back and dragged my fingernails downwards, drawing a deep guttural moan from him. A banging on the front door cut through the intense pleasure of the moment.
"That had better not be fucking Kadrix and his cursed notebook,” I growled.
He took my bottom lip between his teeth and did away with my panties. "He can watch if he pleases, I'm quite open to an audience."
I gasped as his fingers finally fulfilled their promise. The door crashed open. Heavy footsteps filled the living room. I cursed every god I had a name or sensation for.
Forty
Lysander leapt off the bed, and I was just behind him. I pulled on the closest things I could lay my hands on, one of his T-shirts and a pair of panties. Without thinking, I grabbed the two blades tucked up in the corner by the door and stormed out into the living room. I'd behead the fucking elf if he'd dared break down my door just to watch me finally enjoy my hound. Lysander was right behind me. He snarled; the heat emanated from him. It didn't take a genius to see why.
Witches stood in my living room, clothed in black and grey, complete with hoods, no less. I spun my blades while I weighed up the situation. They had the only exit covered, and they outnumbered us three to one. Their stances were imperfect and unbalanced; I had to hope that they leant on their magic rather than any actual combat ability. A ball of blue flew from the witch closest to the window, on course for my head. I ducked and ran at her. Lysander tore across the room and pounced on the witch closest to the door. A scream cut through the air. I wasn't sure if it was mine or the witch's when pain seared my shoulder. I slashed at the witch wildly. I needed to put an end to their magic. Quickly. She stumbled backwards, blood blossoming on the black. More magic scorched the back of my neck and rippled over my naked thigh. I was growing to hate witches.
I hacked at the throat of the witch in front of me. Her hood fell back to reveal a girl younger than me, barely out of her teens. Any guilt I may have felt was overwhelmed by fresh icy pain crawling up my ribs. I turned to face the two witches that were muttering and waving their hands. I saw Lysander halfway between his human and hound forms, tearing the innards out of an older witch. Blood coated his hands and face. I spun my blades and held eye-contact with the witch as well as I could with her face sheltered by the hood. Her muttering faltered; the spinning blades were drawing her attention. I shot forward and cut off her hands. She wouldn’t be casting any more magic. She yowled and dropped to her knees, clutching the bleeding stumps to her chest. The table behind me collided with my back, sending me sprawling at the other witch's feet. The crashing sound of more furniture buckling and shattering surrounded me. My home. The bitches were destroying my home.
Flamed licked at my spine and surrounded my hands. I pushed myself up to a crouch and glared at the witch who threw another curse at me. She visibly trembled and stepped back. The curse bounced off the edge of the flames that grew around me.
"What are you?" she screamed.
I grinned at her, the cold predatory feeling descending over me. I didn't try and fight it. They had destroyed my home. They would pay. I stalked towards her; she tripped over her own feet and landed awkwardly against the kitchen counter. Lysander yelped and drew my attention. He scrambled back to his feet, and I returned my focus to the witch. She was trying to scramble away, but it was too late. Her feet slipped on a pool of her sister's blood. I slowly dragged the tip of my blade down her throat as she whimpered before I drove it into her chest.
I looked around the remains of my home. Lysander was coated in blood, but none of it seemed to be his. I was numb. Bodies were crumpled on the floor, blood splattered the walls and pooled on the floor. My furniture was all torn and shattered. Lumps of splintered wood rested against the body of an older witch. The pain seeped in around the edges of the numbness as I sank down to my knees. It had been my sanctuary. The one place in the city where I could relax and feel safe. They'd stolen that from me. The scent of blood filled my nostrils and my vision cleared; my eyes re-focused on the scene around me. Lysander held me against his warm chest, his rough stubble grazed my cheek.
"You're injured, Evelyn,” he whispered softly.
My mind snapped to. The numbness gave way to rage. My dear hound stroked my hair and nuzzled my neck as I calmed myself.
"They took away my home,” I snarled.
He slowly bit down my neck.
"I know,” he whispered.
His fingers slid down over my injuries; the pain was excruciating. I couldn't hold back the scream of pain. He kissed me tenderly.
"I'm sorry, I only meant to assess the damage."
Tears mingled with blood as the emotions took hold.
"Where is your phone, Evelyn?"
I waved in the direction of the bedroom. "Jeans."
With a frown, I realised it was ringing. Taking a deep breath, I pulled myself together. I'd killed demons, I wasn't going to allow something as stupid as that break me. Lysander left me standing in the middle of the wreckage; he spoke to someone. I assumed it was on my phone. I needed a clean-up crew, to speak to Quin, and to find somewhere to stay. That was manageable.
"Quin and Kadrix were attacked by witches too, they captured two of them for interrogation."
"They're ok?"
He gave me a small smile. "They are. We're meeting them at Elise's church as soon as possible. Pack some clothing."
I took a deep breath and focused on what I needed to do. We threw some clothes in backpacks and pulled on suitable clothing for the time of year. I called in a clean-up crew and packed up anything I couldn't risk losing, including our throwing knives and anything alchemical. I swallowed back the tears as I left the flat, possibly for the last time. It wasn't perfect, but it had been ours.
Lysander held me close to him and helped me walk when the pain became too much to bear. I would end the witches. I didn't know how I was going to do it, or even when, but I would end them.
Forty-One
Elise pulled me into a hug before she led me through to the back room where Quin and Kadrix were. They were both splattered wit
h blood, Kadrix was topless and coated in some green powder. Quin had a split lip, but seemed ok otherwise. I sank down onto the sofa and tried to clear my mind.
Kadrix stood in front of me. “You have deepest condolences, Evelyn, a home is a precious thing.”
I nodded and smiled before I took a deep breath. “Where are the witches?”
Elise and Kadrix exchanged a look.
“Quin and I will be interrogating them. You have too much emotion, Evelyn,” Kadrix said.
I sighed and saw no reason to argue with him; rage boiled just beneath the surface. Elise sat next to me and Lysander was at my feet.
“Let me heal you, Evie, then you need to centre yourself and speak to my lady. You can’t stay as you are.”
Once again I nodded and accepted the words. Quin and Kadrix left the room before Elise helped me out of my clothes and went through the agonising process of patching up my wounds. The curses had been savage, but my connection to Lysander had dulled them at least a little. It seemed being bound to an infernal beast had some advantages. He held my hand and kissed my knuckles and my inner wrist while I tried to keep my breathing even through the pain. Once Elise was done and I was dressed once more, she ushered me into the main room where I was directed to her altar.
“Kneel, centre yourself. My lady will put you right.”
I was aware of Lysander lingering nearby, but I closed my eyes and did as I was told.
I'd never dealt with the gods before; I'd felt the sensation of the moon goddess on the periphery before, but not had a solid conversation with her. I didn't even know if conversation was the right word. I focused on my breathing, slow and deep, trying to allow the excess emotion to drift away. A soothing voice formed in the back of my mind, reminding me that I was a protector and a guardian, not a cold-hearted killer. The emotion began to dissipate and my mind cleared. The pain faded and everything gradually felt bearable again. It was unfortunate to lose the flat, but it was also an opportunity to settle somewhere new. Lysander was a part of my life, and a new flat would allow him to put his mark on our home. I took one last long breath and smiled; the witches would pay, when the time was right.