by C. V. Larkin
He was yelling where he stood by the arena wall. He couldn't hear himself, he knew only because his throat was raw with it. Shit, he couldn't be in here. He was shaking with fury and a boatload of other emotions he wouldn't consider, let alone name. Jay and Bren looked shell-shocked as he stumbled up the stairs past their table.
In the bathroom Sio turned the water up as high as it would go, hoping that the sound would drown out the mad screaming in his head.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he snapped at his reflection.
His skin ached. He peeled off the sodden fabric of his shirt and instead of running it under the water, on a sick impulse, he brought it to his face and inhaled. The smell was overwhelming, copper sweet, and riddled with undertones that were floral and ozone. The orgasm caught him off guard.
He unzipped a millisecond before debasing himself into his blood covered button down. The release was dazzling. It went on for too long, muddling his nerve endings and branding him soul deep. He panted against the fogged mirror of a foreign men's room and bit back a sob. He didn't do the crying thing, wasn't hard wired for it. Sio'd known he had issues, but this was a whole new arena of psychological damage. The self-loathing bubbling up from his gut like acid. He choked it back down on a choppy inhalation.
They did not ruin you...You are not ruined...
He repeated the silent mantra, willing the tightness in his chest to ease. This wasn't the first time he'd comforted himself after some pathetic, horrific outburst. It was just the first time he couldn't make himself believe. Sio tossed the evidence of his own depravity on the counter and shoved his head in the sink. It was an awkward angle considering how big he was, but it didn't matter. The water was freezing where the icy stream enveloped his skull. The arctic cold felt good, grounding. The door behind him opened and closed. Whatever poor bastard walked in was going to have to deal with him crouching like a half-naked nut job shoved under the faucet.
"I heard you liked to do it in public places."
Rachel's voice sent a dead chill up his spine. Sio didn't lift his head from under the running water, but he did open his eyes, angling his face so he could see her.
"You shouldn't be in here," he said. His throat burned with each syllable.
"It's okay. I locked the door."
Nothing okay about that.
"Then unlock it. I need a couple of minutes."
It was the most abrasive he'd been around a woman in years. He didn't like many people, but he could at least fake decent. She cocked her hip and made a sound in the back of her throat like she was coughing up a hair ball. It was an irritating noise, no matter what woman it was coming out of. Rachel removed a gold foil packet from her purse and tossed it onto the counter next to him.
"Don't you want to thank me for bringing you here? Cause it's amazing and I kind of think I deserve it."
Maybe she was trying to be cute. Maybe she was flirting with him. It didn't matter.
Thank you for showing me what a fucking freak I am.
He shut off the water and grabbed a rolled terry cloth towel from the copper basin on the counter to dry his face before turning around. In that moment, he would have paid money to be able to put his shirt back on. Too late for that though, it was covered in about ten gallons of his own release, and he sure as hell wasn't about to hide himself from her.
He met her hot stare and said the only thing that came to mind.
"Rachel. Get. The fuck. Away from me."
Chapter 6
Ash to Embers
She hadn't gone down that way, but Tian came to screaming. As much as she fought it, she always came back screaming, as if the fabric of her world was tearing itself apart instead of knitting back together. Anyone who waxed ecstatic about the glories of resurrection had never experienced it.
Firm hands held her down to keep her from damaging herself as she bucked against the biting nausea and the pain. Black magic pulsed in the air of the half open circle her body had been laid out in. Her scream, if it could be called that, came out half way between a wet gurgle and a rough high-pitched yowl. Wet cat on a sander.
Xavier was whispering something soft and rhythmic into her right ear as he held her pinned to his body. She knew the language of the angels when she heard it, but was relieved she couldn't understand him. To do so would have been uncomfortable for them both, and Tian would take the small comforts where she could find them.
Her blood was superheated where it trickled from her healing throat. It coated her breasts and soaked the thin fabric of the shift plastered against her upper body. Every time she writhed, more blood was wrung out of the wound, causing the dark magic in the air to intensify. Each breath was a fight against all of that sickening unholy power, and she was tired.
Xavier made a strangled sound in the back of his throat as she forced her limbs to stop moving and rest against him. Tian closed her eyes and was hit with a bitter visual of the raven-haired stranger from the show. Sweet mother. She writhed again as lust mingled with the pain assaulting her nervous system. She groaned and willed back the stillness in the chaos of her own resurrection. It hurt more when she fought. One of these days she'd learn to stop doing that.
The half angel behind her attempted to rearrange her without losing contact. Tian opened her eyes. Royal was kneeling at the edge of the circle. His emerald green gaze burned six shades lighter from exertion of the demon blood in his system. He was watching them with a strange expression; then again he was in the process of working in some pretty heavy mojo. Blood magic was potent stuff. When the blood belonged to an immortal it upped the stakes. The more power there was, the more room for mistakes, and Royal didn't make mistakes. Ever.
He was whispering to himself and drawing sigils with her blood over the silver circle set into the marble floor. Ironic, that she was the one bleeding and they were the ones she was going to owe the favor to after this was over. The world changed, but it never seemed to stop bartering.
Royal caught her watching him and flashed a cruel smile revealing the platinum caps of his two lower incisors. They gleamed along with the rest of the metal in his face and made him look like a hard ass and a slut, which wasn't an accident. Tian cleared her throat, causing a fresh wave of leakage from the cut. The copper tang seeped into her mouth, bubbling up from the back of her throat. She leaned left and spat the viscous red mass onto the floor. The blood that didn't make it dripped down her chin.
Xavier released her arm so he could free a hand to brush the hair back from her face. Royal was watching again with a pained look she no doubt shared.
"You gonna try and save me now, Xavier?"
Royal shook his head and turned to finish setting up the last pieces of his spell. She liked him as much as it was possible to like anyone, always felt more comfortable around that biting sarcasm insulation of his. Royal didn't do personal and he didn't do kind, but in his own way that lack was a kindness of its own. Xavier settled his face against the undamaged side of her neck and slid upward, gradually increasing pressure until his lips grazed the shell of her ear.
"I would if I thought you'd let me."
His voice was careful, devoid of the emotion that made its way too often to the surface. Tian sifted around her soul, finding nothing for him, but an exhausted sense of pity. No doubt it was a smaller kernel of what was emanating from the male behind her. Damn angels.
"Business is at hand brother." Royal's deep voice cut through the silence. "Or would you prefer to torture us further by professing your undying devotion in English. As if we aren't painfully aware of that which lingers out of reach."
Tian looked at Royal, really looked at him. His eyes burned bright with an electric green flame, only emerald now at the edges of the iris. A suppressed emotion slid under the surface of his skin and a muscle ticked at the edge of his jaw. If she didn't know better she would have said he looked wounded.
"Finish it," she said.
Xavier's heart thundered be
hind her as Royal's bright gaze focused itself over her shoulder. The demon's silver athame flashed in the warm glow of the candlelit room. Royal didn't remove his eyes from the other man as he ran the delicate blade across the hard plane of his left pectoral, leaving a trail of darker than human blood in its wake. He held the sanguine fluid balanced on the razor sharp edge longer than necessary before tilting the length to spill its contents onto the floor. He slid into the circle with practiced ease as it snapped shut.
The spell's power condensed, creating a steady stream of silver mist from the metal inlay on the ground. The sheen created a warping ripple in the environment around them. Both Progeny spoke in perfect practiced cadence, wine rich baritones sliding against one another in an unparalleled resonant harmony.
The shining mist thickened inside the circle, obscuring all but the luminous eyes of the men kneeling next to her. Xavier slid from behind her body bracing her against his knee. Strong, long fingered hands pressed into the sides of her throat, sliding uninhibited through the blood on her upper torso and down her arms on either side. She tried to avoid picturing the black flame male from the arena and failed. The image of him made her liquid.
She was pliable as her wrists were elevated, stretched up and away from her body like an offering. They hovered below the Progeny's phosphorescent blue and green orbs in the haze. Intense, puncturing, synchronized pressure was followed by a searing pain that shot up her arms and forced a strained hiss from behind clenched teeth. Contrary to the method of her life, these frequent brutal scenarios were rarely welcome.
The metallic vapor swirled in anticipatory glee as it condensed, shoving itself past the straight white teeth at each wrist and in through the ragged puncture wounds beneath them. The shit hurt, not to mention it was invasive as hell. Tian panted through an open mouth. She closed her eyes to avoid the Progeny's bright stares. Then the convulsions started. Apparently, quicksilver fire was not a welcome addition to her system. The ragged scream the seizure kicked off was loud, even though she felt like she'd swallowed a handful of razor blades.
Patched back together just in time for the party.
One minute she was flopping around like she was being torn apart by a swarm of pissed off pixies, the next, it was over... as if she'd hallucinated the whole thing. Tian lay gasping on the ground, flat on her back, staring up at the mural of an urban alleyway from hell's perspective on the ceiling.
"Was that it?" she asked.
Royal snorted and tried to hide a smile, as if he were above crude humor, but his inner twelve year old was forcing him to laugh.
"That's not usually what women say afterwards," Xavier said.
Tian leveraged herself into a sitting position. "Do they usually ask if it counts instead?"
Xavier grinned. He opened his mouth to carry that thread beyond the bounds of decency, but was cut off by the sound of Royal readjusting his spinal column. The demon cracked his neck and put his hand out to help her to her feet. "I hardly think it matters what they have to say afterward."
"Fair enough."
"You know," Xavier stepped out of the circle and went to lean against the closest wall, "we're more entertaining when we're not plastering sigils on hard-assed Halfling heroes. You're welcome here even when there's no deal to be made." The last part was carefully neutral.
"A dumb-ass death wish has nothing to do with heroism."
She'd meant for that to sound like a joke.
It didn't.
Royal raised an eyebrow. "Be that as it may, it wouldn't kill any of us isolated entities to be social on rare occasion."
"Uh huh, are you saying you want to do lunch sometime?"
Damn, her throat still kinda hurt. Royal paled and Xavier started laughing.
"God no," Royal said. "You eat like a frat boy."
"Tell you what, tough guy, you point me to a shower and I'll refrain from stuffing my face in your delicate presence."
"Done."
"As for the favor?" she prompted.
"Tell us after your shower and we'll call in the return at a later date," Xavier said.
She looked at him where he held up the wall. His eyes burnt like Caribbean skies and lines of tension etched the corners. Xavier's face was as handsome as ever, more so now that his emotions weren't on parade.
Poor bastard.
"You know the rules. As pretty as you boys are, there's a one-month time limit on reciprocation before it expires."
"Rest assured we are aware. I like debt too well to let it pass from my plate without incident," Royal said, pressing a firm hand against a stone wall. He pushed it into an endless luminescent hallway. "The shower is on your left."
"I'd be happy to ensure you don't get lost," Xavier offered, with a stretch that showed off his chiseled torso to its best advantage. A mildly lecherous teasing had crept back into his tone. Tian shook her head, comforted by the familiarity of his meaningless bullshit.
"I'll manage."
She gathered her clothes and trudged on unsteady legs down the corridor. In the bathroom she found a shower the size of her bedroom complete with sixteen inlaid shower heads. She dropped the armload of stuff on the floor, turned the spray on, and stood under the stream. She was still wearing the slip as the water pounded away at the evidence of misuse on her skin. It swirled in pink rivers down the drain. A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach indicated that she'd done something wrong or irrevocable. Danu only knew, that what had happened was probably both.
Tian studied the new markings embedded in her flesh. Elegant black lines etched a design at the outside of her right wrist while the inside of the left was the mirror image painted in gold. She tried to tell herself the markings didn't bother her. What the hell were two more additions to the ever increasing number of scars on her body? It didn't work though.
****
Rachel took a trembling step back. Her makeup had started to run as if she'd spent an hour in a sauna. The effect was that her face had slipped a couple of inches. It took her almost a minute to recoup.
"You are an asshole," she hissed.
"Because I won't fuck you in a bathroom after watching a live impersonation of a snuff film?"
"Screw you."
Sio closed his eyes and got solid visual of a surreal sunset gaze accompanied by a shocking doll-like face marred by lines of scar tissue. Then he got another of the gout of blood spraying from an open neck wound. He was not in a good place. Never mind the fact that he'd never been so hard in his damn life. That made everything worse.
"I'm not interested." The words sounded hollow where they fell out of him. He tried to think of the last time he'd actually used that phrase.
Nope, couldn't pinpoint it.
Rachel's makeup-slicked expression turn incredulous. She took two stiff strides forward and smacked him hard in the face. He stood there, grinding his molars into dust and took the hit because he no doubt deserved it. That he also wanted the pain was something he tried not to think about. Even with the bruises it didn't really hurt.
Rachel leaned in on her tiptoes, which was impressive considering the five inch stilettos she was all but staggering around on, and sneered. "You're not even worth my time."
Sio nodded, not trusting himself to reply. Rachel moved to shove him, maybe get one last shot off before she bounced, but he grabbed her hands out of the air.
"I let you hit me once because you needed to get it out of your system. Don't push your luck," he said.
He could feel the bones of her wrists grinding together in his hands and it made him rabid. Sio kissed her knuckles even though the gesture made him want to vomit and let her go. She stood staring at him like she'd never seen him before. Her eyes were ripe with unshed tears. Rachel turned without a word and clacked herself out the door, purse in hand.
Sio slumped against the wall. Insanity did not bode well for his sense of tact. He should never have come tonight. On almost any other night he would've managed to ge
t out of that altercation without pissing anyone off. Who was he kidding? On another night he would have taken the path of least resistance and banged her up against the counter, feeling dead inside like usual. The thought made his stomach roll. He wound up on the floor with his skull between his knees.
After an indefinite period of time fighting the dry heaves, a feather-light object pattered rhythmically against the top of his dropped dome. He looked up to find the epically proportioned red eyed female who had ushered his group inside at the beginning of the night. She was clutching a pale green shirt in one tiny fist and stroking his hair with the flat palm of her other hand as if he were a house pet.
"I would like to help you, Changeling." She had a sweet voice that was at odds with the shark tooth mouth piece she was rocking.
"Don't know how much help there is for me at this point."
It wasn't what he'd intended to say, but the woman smiled beatifically in response. The dimples gracing the corners of her cheeks made her look cherubic.
"You'll see," she said. She pushed the fisted garment towards his face. "You need clothes."
The statement was ironic considering what she wasn't wearing. She hadn't stopped petting the top of his head either, but he took the shirt.
"Thank you," Sio said. "This is expensive. How much do I owe you?"
"Silly Changeling, I don't accept because I don't trade. I choose. Royal will not miss it. He has many in that color he refuses to wear."
Sio looked her dead in the eye. "Why do you keep calling me changeling?"
The small female let out a high pitched peal of laughter that shook her not inconsiderable assets in his face. "Because you are a changeling, Changeling." She paused as if in thought and then asked, "You like the half-breed, don't you?"
"Half-breed," Sio parroted, trying to figure out what planet her train of thought was chugging down the tracks on. He wasn't sure how to deal with this mad hatter conversation, but he rolled with it anyway.