by Debra Dunbar
I was beginning to hate this woman. And I knew that wasn’t exactly fair. They’d spent their whole lives thinking of humans as slaves—some with talents in magic, but most just grunt labor. They’d come here thinking they were going to rule only to have their ruling-class elves mostly killed off and the rest of them shuffled onto an island to learn to be of service to the humans they’d originally planned to lord it over. They were arrogant, smug jerks as far as I could tell, but it’s not like they’d had a chance to form a different opinion in their lives, and now they were being thrust into a strange world, made to bend their customs and culture to suit a foreign one, and told by the angels that they must be of service, or else be sent back to Hel.
I was pretty sure most of them wished they’d never left Hel at all.
Hallwyn said something in elvish, in a loud clear voice that I was clearly meant to hear. None of it involved the few curse words I’d managed to memorize, so I had no idea what she was saying. I ignored her and kept walking.
“You look very much like an elf woman,” she told me, lengthening her stride to catch up and walk beside me. “A very low-class elf. And the resemblance when I am closer is only minor. Still, if you had more symmetrical features and elegant ears, I would have thought you to be a child of a basket-weaver, or perhaps a semi-skilled fletcher.”
Screw her. My mother was of the Wythyn royal family. And the only reason my features weren’t the perfect elven symmetry and my ears weren’t topped with tall points was that my succubus half allowed me to blend in with the humans—something she’d never be able to do.
“I was raised in Frederick County, Maryland, by my mother. I’m not aware that either of my parents had elven ancestry, but perhaps if some basket-weaver or semi-skilled fletcher had an illegitimate child with a human, that would account for my somewhat elven appearance.”
I was thrilled at the horrified expression on her face. “That would never have happened. Even the lowest of the elven classes has a sacred responsibility to preserve the purity of our race. Elves would never stoop to having intimate relations with humans or any other being. And to have children with a partner outside of the elven race is to commit a crime where the punishment is execution. No elf has ever done so. None ever.”
Well, there was that one elf, namely my mother. And she had been killed for it, even though they’d never found me and there had been no substantial proof of her crime.
Remembering what they’d done to my mother, what this woman’s kingdom had done to the mother I’d never even had a chance to meet, the elven woman who’d sacrificed so much, including her life so that I’d be safe, just made me hate this woman even more.
But I swallowed it all down, knowing that to her, I needed to remain a useless human field hand who just happened to look a little bit like a low-class elf.
“Guess that just makes me a pretty human, then.” I smiled at her, and wished I could punch her in the face instead. “Here’s row eight. We’ve had black measles in a few of the younger vines, which isn’t surprising with the hot summer we’ve had so far. The Phomopsis was a surprise. It tends to flare up when there has been an abnormally large amount of rainfall.”
“I know that.” She sniffed and walked over to a plant, rubbing a leaf between her thumb and forefinger.
Bullshit. “These first two plants have shown signs of leadcable-borer damage,” I lied. “The Phomopsis is further down, toward the end of the row.”
Any reasonably knowledgeable botanist, human or elven, would have immediately checked the lower trunk of the vine for the round holes the borer larvae left behind as they emerged. If this vine were infested with leadcable-borers, it would have long meandering tunnels on the vine stem even if the trunk hadn’t shown signs of housing the larvae. A few of those tunnels might even have the cream-colored, c-shaped larvae with their dark heads nestled into the stems as they fed. They weren’t common pests, and as with many of the fungal and insect infestations, a leadcable-borer infestation resulted from carelessly leaving dead trimmings around on the ground near the vine trunks.
Hallwyn didn’t look down at the trunk, or along the vine stems. Instead she glanced at the ground beside the vine then back at the leaf. “Interesting.”
Seriously? Did she have the skill to sense the black beetles from just the leaf? Did she know I was lying but didn’t want to confront me about it? After her rude remarks about my parentage in particular, and humans in general, I couldn’t believe she’d think twice about calling me out on my falsehood.
“Yes. It is quite interesting.” I led her down to the last few plants where I’d seen the Phomopsis and halted, waiting for her to check the leaves and fruit. Detecting this would be no judge of skill. A blind man could see the damage the plant had suffered.
She didn’t disappoint, touching the bulls-eye spots on the leaves, running a finger along the puckered veins. Then she pushed the leaves aside, checking the black streaks and cracks along the stems with what seemed like a knowledgeable eye. Turning to the last vine in the row, she immediately looked at the grapes, frowning.
“I told Jorge about the infection yesterday afternoon and he sent out a crew to spray,” I told her. “Today I need to trim back the diseased wood and remove the clippings, but I’m concerned I won’t be able to prune the vine hard enough to fully rid it of the disease. Too much, and there won’t be enough of the vine to survive. Can you tell if the spray is working? And if so, how little can I get away with in pruning the plant?”
She was an elf. She should be able to feel how the vine was responding to treatment and let me know the areas that were too far gone and needed to be removed as opposed to the portions that could be left behind and re-treated. And if she were truly skilled, she should be able to fix the entire vine, rid it of the disease and repair the damaged areas to full health. I watched her carefully, waiting, and wondering what course of action, what level of skill and power a full-elf would have as compared to my abilities.
She nodded. “The treatment is having an effect. Remove these stems and all the fruit, leaving the main trunk and these canes. This section will be fine, but these other two need to go.”
Guess she wasn’t going to heal the plant. Not that I’d healed the plant yesterday, but I had my reasons. There was only so much energy I had to spare, and this vineyard had a lot of problems. Plus, I didn’t want the owners to realize that their minimum-wage intern had supernatural powers to heal their plants. From there it would be one quick step to rumors of my abilities, and discovery of my half-elf heritage. Normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but with ninety percent of the elves migrating from Hel, I had to be careful. Hallwyn wasn’t the only one who viewed an elven hybrid as an abomination, and if discovered, every elf would be eager to have me meet the same fate as my mother.
“Got it.” I pulled a set of pruning shears from my tool belt. “Manny is one row over, and I know he had some spider mites.”
Without a word she left, moving swiftly and silently as all elves did. I watched until she’d vanished into the next row, then slid my shears back into the belt, and reached out to touch the plant.
It had gotten worse. Somehow the spray had delivered no lasting effect, and the blight was spreading. I bit my lip and looked at the plant, knowing I’d need to trim back far more than Hallwyn had told me to. This plant wasn’t going to make it, and the thought of losing an entire vine to this disease had me feeling just as sick as the leaves I was touching. I pulled my pruning shears back out and got to work, removing exactly what the elf had told me, then gathering the clippings up into a bundle to take to the end of the row where they’d be collected tonight and stuffed into an incinerator. Then I looked around to ensure no one was watching and touched the plant once more.
I closed my eyes and fell into the leaves and stems, seeking out the blackness of disease and pulling it from the plant and into myself. My stomach rolled, my head pounded. I felt a bead of sweat slide down my nose and heat rush through my body as I burn
ed and destroyed the blight inside myself. Then I turned my attention back to the vines, soothing every gnarled vein, repairing cells and healing fissures. Done, I let go of the plant and opened my eyes, fighting the urge to throw up. I was tired and shaky, but this plant would live.
The plant would live, but the worst part is that Hallwyn would take all the credit. I continued to work down two more rows, healing what I could until it was the end of my shift. Walking through the fields, I saw Hallwyn putting her gloves on, muttering to herself in Elvish. What did the elf do when she went home for the day? Did she sit in a trailer staring at her dinner? Did she fraternize with humans? How isolated was she? Did DiMarche give her a tiny rusted trailer like mine, or did they put her up in a swank hotel more fitting for an elf?
I checked my phone and decided I had time for a quick trip. Then I ran after Hallwyn at elf-speed, catching up to her just as she pulled out of the driveway in a new Prius. Figures. I was driving an ancient Toyota pickup that I’d had since I was sixteen, and she had a new car not two weeks after leaving Elf Island.
Hoping old Bessie started, I jumped in, dug my keys out of my pocket. The engine reluctantly turned over, and with a cloud of stone dust, I tore out of the driveway and gunned it in an attempt to catch up.
Hallwyn was the worst driver I’ve ever seen in my life. I’d seen Nyalla behind the wheel, and this elf was worse. Clearly the angels in charge of Elf Island needed a better driver’s ed class. Instead of pulling into the road with the line of trailers, or turning onto the freeway that would take her into town and the imagined apartment, Hallwyn kept going. Ten miles later she was making a left into a neighboring winery, Boone Valley.
What the heck? Was she spying on us for the competition? Something sour curdled in my stomach as I began to wonder about all the varieties of diseases and pests the DiMarche vineyards were suffering this year. I’d suspected a supernatural cause, maybe I was following the person, or elf, responsible. Maybe Hallwyn wasn’t inept, she was very skilled—skilled at causing disease and damage, then looking like she was making every attempt to fix it. What was Boone paying her?
I held back and watched while she parked up near the tasting room, then I swung around to the side lot and pulled my Toyota in behind a box truck. Then as stealthily as my elven feet could move, I edged my way up to the tasting room and peered in the window. I expected to see Hallwyn receiving an envelope full of cash from a man twirling a black villain mustache, but instead she was sitting at the tasting room bar next to another blonde, impeccably dressed woman with pointy ears.
Boone had their own elf. I just hadn’t expected them to know each other. So these two were…friends? Were there elves at some of the commercial orchards and vegetable farms that they knew? Were they all in league together to run competing businesses into the ground for a payoff, or were they just lonely?
I guess if I were the only elf at my place of employment, any elf within a hundred-mile radius would wind up being my friend. It’s not like Hallwyn could socialize with humans without getting cooties or something.
Was this just an innocent social visit? Or was there something to my theory that Hallwyn was causing the troubles at DiMarche?
I wanted to look into this further, but it would have to wait until tomorrow, because I was tired and hungry, and if I was going to single-handedly fix the problems at DiMarche, I needed to have a whole lot of sex.
Chapter 8
Irix was in the trailer when I’d returned, an excited expression on his face and a heavenly smelling meal in the oven. There might have been paper plates on the table, but there were also candles, wine, and fresh flowers. He’d put Harkel’s rose right in the middle of his bouquet, and that more than the dinner and expensive wine told me how he was feeling.
“It’s going to be okay?” I asked.
He smiled. “Yes. I’ve got an idea that will make Harkel happy, and give you the satisfaction of an alliance with him that won’t get you killed. It’s all going to be okay.”
I choked back a sob and ran into his arms, letting all the fears I’d locked away this morning out into the open. I’d been so scared that one foolish blow job was going to ruin everything.
He rubbed his cheek against my hair. “I’m sorry. I should have instructed you on how to act in Hel and around other demons. I’ve been slacking in my tutoring duties, and I intend to make up for it. You can go to Hel and help the humans. You can have sex with Harkel. You can even have sex with a Low if you want. I will coach and guide you. I’ll be there to keep you safe. I’ll let you know if I think your course of action is ill-advised, but I won’t forbid you from anything. You are so young, but in the human world you’re an adult and I promise to respect that.”
“But the tie with Harkel…how are we going to work that out? I know that bothers you.”
He sighed. “I’m worried about what that meant in terms of Harkel’s expectations. He’s an ancient, a powerful warmonger, and you’re not a full demon. There may be things he wants that are beyond your ability to provide.”
“Like the breeding contract.”
“Yes, or other things. He’s strong enough to break the tie with you if he chooses, so either we work this out, or we manage to convince him to break it. My hope is that if he persists in wanting an affiliation, he’ll become so attached to you that even if he finds out you’re not a full demon, he won’t harm you.”
I thought about that a moment. “He needs to see me as more than a plaything, see a value in me beyond sex. Maybe then it won’t matter that I’m only half-demon.”
Irix nodded. “Yes, but that will be difficult. Demons gain respect by being…demonic. I love you, Amber, but beyond your succubus ability, you’re all elf. Actually you’re very human, but that’s not surprising given how you were raised.”
How to get an ancient warmonger to respect a young half-elf who has succubus skills and acts like a human. This wasn’t going to be easy. Was it worth the effort? Maybe I should just hide somewhere for a few centuries.
But then I thought of Harkel with his sweet smile, bringing me a rose, learning English and risking a trip through the gateways just to see me. I had to try.
“How are you feeling about this?” I pulled back to look up at Irix, searching his face. “With Kai we were all friends, and she and I would have our private time together, but with Harkel, you’re going to be very involved in this relationship.”
The idea turned me on. Even the other night, with that violent hand job, I still felt a thrill when I imagined the three of us together.
“I don’t know.” Irix pulled away from me and grabbed a pair of mitts, pulling the roast from the oven. “I won’t deny that I’m attracted to the warmonger, but honestly I’m not thrilled with the idea of sharing you with another demon. I’ve been urging you to feed your succubus self through sexual activity, yet at the same time I was expecting a sort of human monogamy when it came to our bond and your having sex with other demons. So I guess I’m jealous. Irrationally jealous to expect I’d be your only demon lover, the only demon you’d bond with.”
He wasn’t the only one. “I’ve been jealous of you, too. It’s been so difficult not to care about your one-night stands with humans but the thought that you might have a tie with another demon makes me stabby. And here I am doing the very thing that would crush me if you were to do it.”
“Then maybe the key to this is that we’re all three in this together, as opposed to the type of arrangement you share with Kai. At least until I trust that he won’t hurt you, then I’ll just have to reconcile myself to the fact that there are times that you may want to have a few weeks, or months, or years, one-on-one with Harkel.”
“No. Irix, he’s not going to replace you. Kai didn’t replace you, and Harkel won’t either, if we somehow manage to make this work at all, that is.”
He started slicing the beef and putting it on a platter. This calm resignation of his bothered me more than anything. “You say that now, Amber, but you’re youn
g and might change your mind. I need to look to the benefits that will come with your affiliation with Harkel. If you join his household, if you continue to secure his affections, then perhaps he’ll protect you as a half-breed from the other demons. He’d be in a much better position to protect you than I ever would.”
There was a world of pain in that last statement of his. “I love you, Irix. I’ve never felt the same way toward anyone else, and even though I like Harkel, even though I’m sexually attracted to him, it will never be the same as what I feel for you. Please stop doubting that. Please stop thinking that my love for you will fade in a few centuries, and trust that you’re the one constant in my life. You’re the one who I always want with me. And if I need protection, I want you to be the one protecting me, even if you enlist another demon’s help.”
He took the platter of food over to the table. “Tonight I want to be only about us. I need that. I need us to share a meal together, to make love, to sleep together in each other’s arms, because tomorrow when we meet with Harkel everything will change. I’ll either convince him to accept a three-way tie where I can intervene and protect you as I did last night, or I’ll make sure he transfers his affections to me and drops the tie with you. But if we wind up together, then this will be different than how things are between just you and me. This will involve three demons, well two demons and a half-demon. That makes this tricky and we’ll need to work at it to ensure there are no jealousies, or power plays or sabotage of each other’s relationships. I worry, because Harkel is a warmonger, and warmongers don’t have an easy time making peace with someone they see as a rival.”
I grabbed the tray of roasted vegetables and followed him to the table. “Then he needs to not see you as a rival. He needs to see you as his, too. He needs to feel like he’s getting the attentions of two sex demons for the price of one.”
I remembered the admiration in Harkel’s voice when I’d told him that Irix had petitioned me for a breeding incident. I remembered the way he’d looked at the incubus even as they were gearing up to beat the snot out of each other. I remembered the way they’d both enjoyed ripping each other to shreds last night as Irix jacked the warmonger off. Harkel was as attracted to Irix as he was to me. And I got the impression that although it wasn’t quite as strong on his part, Irix had the same feelings toward the warmonger that I did.