by Holly Evans
The pain was threatening to overwhelm me.
Lysander shifted into his human form. “Where’s Raif?”
We looked around the room. The cub limped over to us and flopped down at our feet. I concluded he had the right idea and knelt next to him; standing was overrated. The fae dissipated, hunting down the last of the witches and caring for their fallen. Kadrix knelt down next to a body that was sprawled on the floor. Quin approached Kadrix and crouched down next to him. Quin held the elf in his arms; his shoulders shuddered. I hung my head. I’d been so focused on taking out the witches, I’d forgotten. Lysander put his arm around me.
“We did what we could,” he said softly.
Raif whined and looked up at us. I stroked between his ears.
“You did good, little wolf,” I said.
He rested his chin on my foot. I had no idea what we were supposed to do with the mess. The fae had gathered around someone, or something. I hoped that their kidnappees had fared better than Kadrix’s lover.
Azfin emerged from the group. “Thank you, Evelyn. The witch could not succeed with her ritual, and our number will survive.”
I smiled and looked over to Kadrix. Azfin frowned and bowed his head.
“We will give her all funerial rites.”
With that, he turned and returned to the other Sidhe.
“Lysander, can we borrow your shirt?” Elise called.
He looked back into the room, his mouth pulled up into a smile before he pulled off his shirt and handed it to her. The man seemed a little groggy, but sat up.
Lysander said, “He is not having my pants.”
Everyone laughed. I regretted it; everything hurt and laughing made it so much worse. Raif whined again.
“I know, little wolf, I know,” I said softly.
Elise and one of the lycans half carried the man out to join us. The fae began to herd us outside. I groaned at the thought of trekking through the forest. Sleeping for a week sounded like the best possible plan at that point. Lysander carried Raif, and Kadrix carried his lover, with Quin at his side. We stepped out onto the gravel, to be met by a convoy of vehicles of varying shapes and colours. I looked around to see a dirt track that hadn’t been there before. Azfin muttered something about potent magic before he ushered us into a large grey SUV. Kadrix and Quin got into the black vehicle behind us. The guilt at Kadrix’s loss gnawed at me, but I focused instead on the positive. The witch hadn’t succeeded in whatever her plan was. And there were fewer witches in the city now; we must have killed a few dozen of them. The screams would haunt my dreams for weeks, but it was worth it.
Sixty-Eight
The Sidhe had been good enough to help heal us. Elise had taken the guy back to her church; we hadn’t seen anyone for a few days while we healed and recovered. Raif had remained in his wolf form while he healed. Lysander and I slept. We dressed in various shades of blue and stood by a lake on the edge of the city with our heads bowed as Kadrix said some words in elvish. Quin remained at his side. Sabine’s body had been covered in flowers and wreathes before she was sent out to the middle of the lake by magical means. Kadrix sniffed and said some final words when she slipped down into the water. A tear trickled down my cheek; the guilt still gnawed at me. They told me there was nothing I could have done, but it remained, regardless.
The Sidhe dispersed; Kadrix turned away from the water with a frown on his pretty mouth.
I took his hands in mine. “I’m sorry, Kadrix.”
He nodded. “Do not fear, Evelyn, everything balanced.”
Quin put his arm around the elf’s shoulder and kissed his cheek.
“Our condolences for your loss,” Lysander said.
Kadrix nodded. We left them to their grief and headed back to Azfin’s car. He drove far more reasonably when he wasn’t rushing out to stop bloodthirsty witches. He dropped us off as close to Elise’s church as he could get; we left him with thanks. Elise had passed on her condolences and spoken to Kadrix before the funeral; she was expecting us. She greeted us with tea and a nervous smile. Her usual priestess garb had been replaced with pale jeans and a loose white shirt. The man wasn’t within sight. Lysander and Raif settled down on the sofa while Elise led me into the small kitchen.
“What if it’s him, Evie? I’m too scared to ask.”
“…him?” I asked.
She fidgeted and wrung her hands. I finally clicked.
“Oh, him!”
She nodded. “I knew I had to save him, the feeling was so strong.”
“Have you guys…?”
She shook her head. “No, we’ve barely spoken.”
“And you haven’t asked your lady because?”
“What if he isn’t? What if I got my hopes up for nothing?”
I rolled my eyes, the great priestess who kicked witch ass was acting like a school girl.
“Go and ask. Now.”
I pointed in the direction of the altar.
A gruff voice said, “Ask who what?”
We turned to look at the newcomer. He looked different fully clothed; still a very good looking man. Lysander appeared behind him. My hound was shorter by a few inches, and slightly narrower build. Elise’s man’s dirty blond hair was fashionably scruffy and came down just above the tops of his ears. His grey-green eyes danced with promises of mischief; I knew from the ritual that he was very well-toned and had golden-tanned skin. Elise was a lucky lady.
He held out a hand. “I’m Bryn, and you are?”
I gave him my most charming smile. “Evie, and that behind you is Lysander.”
Lysander stood a little taller and put his shoulders back.
“Lysander is my other half,” I added before it went any further.
Bryn smiled, his attention quickly returning to Elise. I elbowed her; she made her excuses and vanished out into the main church area.
“So, Bryn… who and what are you?”
He laughed, a genuine laugh that lit up his entire face. “I should be asking you that.”
“I asked first.”
He grinned. “I’m an artist, and a healer.”
“Human?”
He raised an eyebrow. “…yes? What sort of question is that?”
I looked back at Lysander and hoped he was screwing around. His eyes danced.
“Don’t worry; Evie, right? I’m not naive.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to face Lysander.
“I assume you and your friend are lycans.”
“Hellhound,” Lysander growled.
I pushed past Bryn and put my arm around Lysander’s waist leading him back to the sofa.
“I didn’t think hellhounds walked this plane,” Bryn said.
Elise returned with a grin on her face. I quietly thanked the moon goddess. It was about time things started looking up.
End Note
End Note.
I really hope that you enjoyed this book. If you want to get in touch, please feel free to do so at [email protected]
Reviews are very important to authors, I’d appreciate if you took a moment to write a line or two on Amazon here.
Want to be notified about fantastic deals and future urban fantasy releases? Sign up for my newsletter here.
Infernal Alliances, the final book in the Infernal Hunt series, will be published in early November.