by Holly Evans
I slashed the throat of the female zombie closest to me; her once-bright floral dress was torn and stained, her jaw hung precariously, but that didn’t stop her from trying to sink the few remaining teeth she had into my arm. Lank pink and blond hair clung in thick clumps to the hollows of her cheeks and down the ragged excuse of a neck. Her head lolled forward, but it still didn’t stop her. She reached out towards me, her bony fingers aiming to dig into my flesh. The muscles on her hands had decayed and faded, the skin torn and peeled away, revealing sharp points of clean white bone. Something was wrong. Another zombie hit me square in the side of the head. The blow made me step sideways and shake my head, my vision blurred for a brief second. The damn thing hit harder than a living person. Something was definitely wrong. I kicked the female zombie I’d been dealing with moments before; my foot shattered her sternum and made her ribs collapse in on themselves. Her dress sank inwards, gathering around the new cavity, old worn fabric caught on broken ribs. She didn’t give in. The new zombie, whom I hadn’t had a chance to examine, launched himself at me, teeth snapping a few millimetres from my face. He would have been a burly, heavily muscled man in life. In death he was the stuff of nightmares. His stomach was distended and bloated, black oozed from his eyes and trickled from his cracked and torn lips. Yet he still moved with power, despite his wasted muscles. I was beginning to see why Dimitri and co. needed our help.
A clean spinning kick took the legs out from under the woman; a hard stomp to her skull finished her off. She lay in a heap near my feet as the male groaned and growled, summoning some of his friends to his side. Fantastic. They were vicious, and fast. It was like trying to take on an entire pack of lycans, in full wolf-beast form. Their blows knocked the air from me, and I almost fell to the ground twice. Lysander snarled in rage. He’d shifted into his hound form, complete with fire. To say I was grateful was an understatement. He launched himself at a male zombie that was sinking its fingers into Quin’s throat. He towered over Quin, the suit he wore was somehow quite pristine, given the circumstances. That didn’t stop him from crumpling under Lysander’s weight. The hound promptly sank his teeth into the zombie’s neck and tore out its spine. Black blood splattered over the coal grey suit and coated the hound’s mouth.
I had to step away from the fray for a moment, I was panting, bloodied and bruised. Quin was still going strong, Lysander was in the thick of it, and only a few zombies remained; I felt weak, but I couldn’t afford to go down. Lysander fought viciously, he tore the knee out from under what could have been a middle-aged woman. She’d picked up a bright yellow straw hat from somewhere; it flew off revealing a pock-marked skull with a few greasy strands of grey hair. The hound wasted no time in tearing her apart.
Quin kept moving, never allowing the trio of older men to corner him. The zombies tried to work as a unit. The man in filthy ripped jeans and no nose tried to circle around behind Quin, while the others in rags pushed forward as one cohesive unit. Quin kept his movements efficient, slicing open the scrawny man’s stomach before stepping away and breaking the spine of the other.
Taking a deep breath, I readied myself for the final push. Two youngish women turned to face me, their lips pulled back showing yellowed teeth. Their mouths spread a little too far, their cheeks hung from their skulls. I was going to have nightmares for months. The brunette wore what looked to have been a pretty summer dress. It had been torn to reveal exposed ribs and a sallow stomach. The pale pink added a sickly pallour to the greyish tone of her sagging skin. The blonde, with her hair hanging in thin clumps from her exposed, peeling scalp ran at me on all fours and sank her teeth into my calf while the other sprinted at me on two legs. I kicked at the blonde attached to my leg and threw a knife into the forehead of the brunette. She didn’t miss a beat. The small silver blade stuck out from her head, just above her left eyebrow, as she went onto the balls of her feet and threw her head back to headbutt me.
It was in that split second that I noticed the burning red markings on her bare chest. They weren’t ordinary zombies. I’d freed my leg enough to side-step and avoid the incoming blow from the zombie with the knife in her skull. The pink fabric wrapped itself around her emaciated limbs, tangling around her stick-like thighs as she threw her entire upper body into the punch. I stamped on the throat of the blonde, her teeth scraping along my boots, as her friend stumbled forwards. A second heavy kick to the head finished off the blonde and left me with her friend. She grew more vicious, lunging at me, trying to dance around me and claw at me. She moved on the balls of her feet, fluid motions that would have been at home on a stage. A glance behind her showed me that it was just her and one other left. Quin finished the lean young man behind her. I kicked the brunette in the hip, throwing her backwards. Her arms windmilled trying to catch herself; a fast sweeping kick to her knees took her legs from under her. Quin’s boot to her face muffled her scream of rage; Viktor’s boot to her chest made sure she definitely wouldn’t be rising again.
Lysander shifted back into his human form and looked rather proud of himself. A grin was plastered across his face.
“Well, that was quite fun.”
Everyone glared at him.
Viktor growled, “What were those markings on them? They weren’t normal zombies.”
Lysander’s face fell.
He sighed and looked away before he said, “They were infernal markings. The necromancer who raised them was working with the other hound.”
My stomach dropped; that was not the news I was hoping for. If the other hound was already working with a necromancer, that meant he had help.
Quin said, “We need to track down this other hound.”
Dimitri put his bloodied hands up. One eye was already swelling shut.
“Don’t look at us, he’s all yours.”
I shot him a dark look, the fucking coward. I ground my teeth together and considered sending him an invoice for services rendered.
Quin smiled and said, “Don’t worry, we wouldn’t want you to break a nail doing some real work.”
Viktor cursed him in Czech before he pulled Matyas’ arm around his shoulders and trudged away.
“Fucking cowards,” I spat.
“They could at least have said ‘thank you,’” Quin grumbled.
Lysander simply shrugged and started moving the bodies into a neat pile. There was no way we’d be able to get them all back into their own graves, and I was too tired to care what happened.
I patted Lysander’s arm when we’d moved all of the remains to a pile. “Well done, and thank you. I assume your fire can incinerate them?”
His eyes danced at the thanks. He gave a small shrug and shifted back into his full fiery hound form. The bodies were gone within half a minute; I wasn’t sure whether to be concerned or impressed. The grin was firmly back on his face when he returned to his human form. I walked ahead and ignored him. My muscles screamed, another pair of jeans had been ruined, and worst of all, I had to visit the cursed elf. Again.
Twenty-Five
Kadrix looked a little bit too happy to have Quin, Lysander, and me stripped down to our underwear so that he could apply the healing paste. I’d rung Elise on the way over to fill her in on the goings-on; she’d rushed over to the elf’s place at once. Fortunately, she’d brought some of her own healing paste with her, so I didn’t have to have Kadrix’s hands on me. Elise’s pale silver cream tingled and fizzed against the wounds, but it healed them quickly and painlessly. She smirked when she watched Kadrix spend a little bit too long on the gash on Quin’s ribs. Lysander had pulled his jeans back on, but left his shirt off. He made no excuse, but he did watch me carefully for a long moment. I looked away from his toned muscles, with the faint scars. I wanted to run my fingers over them, to explore. I needed to get laid. The adrenaline from the fight was making that need worse.
Elise whispered, “How long has it been? You keep squirming.”
Blush crept over my cheeks, I hadn’t realised I’d been that obvious ab
out it all. “Eighteen months, 9 days. Not that I’m counting or anything...”
Her mouth fell open, she quickly covered it. “You poor thing.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought your lady specified that you had to be a virgin...”
She gave me a cheeky smile. “Not quite, she specifies that I can only enjoy the company of... certain people.”
Quin finally got dressed again, and I broached the real reason we were there. “Kadrix, darling, we need a tracker for the other hound.”
His eyes lingered on Quin before his attention snapped to me. He looked over at Lysander who was leaning against a table, his strong arms crossed over his broad chest. Kadrix’s tongue slipped over his lips. He was like a kid in a sweetshop. His mouth quirked into a small smile, his eyes brightened.
“I’ll make you a deal, dear Evelyn. One drop of Lysander’s blood, that is what you call yourself isn’t it? And I’ll do whatever work you need for a year.”
I ground my teeth together, that was a big ask. Blood could be used for many nefarious things, particularly when willingly given. There was a chance that his blood could be used against me, due to the bond.
Quin beamed, “That’s very generous of you, Kadrix, thank you!”
I glared at him. “I think you’re forgetting whom Lysander belongs to.”
Lysander said, “I think you’re forgetting that I have a mind of my own.”
I stroked the silver bracelet and eyed his collar. He scowled at me, but said nothing more. It was cruel, but he was a beast, and despite what my body may have wanted, I wasn’t ready to see him as anything else.
Kadrix walked between the tables and stacks of books with practised ease. A sway in his hips added some feline grace to his lithe form.
“Elise, you look ravishing today, I’ve barely said a word to you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What is it you’re after, Kadrix?”
A smile slowly crept across his mouth. “I haven’t had the chance to explore a priestess before, I’m sure we could find some mutual benefit in such things. Of course, I’d be willing to offer you, Evelyn, or Quin services in return for such a delightful experience.”
A calm facade settled on her face; she stood a little taller and said, “I don’t believe that will be necessary.”
He pouted and said, “I’ll just have to console myself with a particularly thorough check of Lysander then.”
I glared at him and went to tell him to leave my hound alone but Quin spread his hands and mouthed ‘Seriously?’ at me. It was a very good offer from the elf.
“Fine. You may have a drop of Lysander’s blood.”
He whispered huskily in my ear, “I’ll make it two years if you allow me the freedom to give him a thorough examination.”
I snorted. “Another time.”
His bottom lip quivered in faux petulance before he grinned at Lysander and wandered over to him, trailing a hand over Quin’s shoulder as he passed. Elise gave me an amused look; I looked away. He was my brother, I wanted him happy, but Kadrix was still an elf. I turned my back on the guys and pulled up a stool next to Elise.
She stood up and paced for a minute. “I can’t believe someone was stupid enough to bring demons into the city. What the fuck were they even thinking? Demons, of all creatures! Necromancers have never been the most intelligent sort, but to strike a bargain with a demon? What could they hope to gain from that?”
“Power, control over minor demons,” Lysander said before he growled at Kadrix.
“I will not allow them to destroy this beautiful city; my lady will not allow it. I’m helping you hunt down that demon, and kill whoever was stupid enough to start this explosion of events.” She somehow managed to sound calm while she was fuming. “Oh, Evie, it wasn’t meant to be like this. I was supposed to help people, but I feel as though I’m being pushed into a more active role.”
Her brow creased and the corners of her mouth tugged downwards.
I opened my arms to pull her into a hug. “It’ll be ok, we’re in this together.”
She squeezed me tight; I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. Truth be told, she was probably tougher than I was, but I’d give anything to keep her safe.
She smiled and sighed softly, running her hand over my hair. “I’d be lost without you, Evie.”
I hugged her tight again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Lysander growled again.
“Do sit still,” Kadrix said.
“You’re supposed to take a single drop, not paw at me like a horny fucking imp,” Lysander growled.
I stifled a laugh; it was inappropriate, but I couldn’t help it. I looked over to see Kadrix humph and flounce off.
Lysander did his shirt back up and stalked towards me. “Are we quite finished here?”
Quin was talking quietly to Kadrix.
I called over, “Kadrix, you seem to have forgotten about the tracker, for the other hound.”
Lysander gave me a dark look; Kadrix, however, grinned.
“I had quite forgotten. Hound, remove your clothes; I need some samples.”
Lysander’s look darkened. I narrowed my eyes at the elf. “Are they absolutely necessary?”
Kadrix sighed, “Yes, Evelyn, they are. As much as I would like to experiment on your dear pet, I am not fool enough to take more than the bare essentials.”
I gave a small shrug.
“You heard the elf. Clothes off,” I said.
Twenty-Six
Lysander had growled and snarled at Kadrix during the lengthy poking, prodding, and other things he felt the need to do to gather relevant bits for his tracker. I wasn’t entirely convinced that the elf needed to poke and prod as much as he did, but I wasn’t in a position to argue. Lysander, however, did argue, glare, and even tried to bite once. Elise went back and forth between her usual calm and serene state, and pacing while ranting about demons and the damage they would do to the city. We needed to find the second hound and whom he had as help and put a stop to everything. If that hellmouth was opened, we’d be screwed. The humans would be devoured or enslaved, the lycans would be in a similar boat, and the fae would probably saunter off to somewhere better.
“Surely the necromancer couldn’t have been behind all of this?” I said.
Elise threw her hands up. “I don’t know, I apparently gave everyone in this city too much credit when I thought none of them would be stupid enough to cut a demon deal.”
“Never doubt the stupidity of people,” Quin added helpfully.
Kadrix said absent-mindedly, “Quin, would you like to aid in the making of this tracker? It’ll be a little tricky given we don’t have any samples from the actual hound.”
Quin lit up. “I’d be honoured, thank you.”
Lysander came and stood in front of me, his eyes never leaving Kadrix. “Does this mean we’re done?”
Kadrix made some hand gesture, something between a royal wave and a shooing motion. “Yes, yes, go away. It’ll be ready tomorrow evening.”
“And to think, you talk about my manners,” I said sweetly.
“Only because you have none, my dear.”
“Pot, kettle,” I retorted.
“I have manners, Evelyn, I just see no reason to waste them on you. Now. Leave me and your dear brother to our work. You’re cluttering the place up.”
I looked around for a clear surface outside of the stool Elise had just vacated. “Yes, I’d hate to clutter this place up...”
He studiously ignored me. I left with the small victory.
I sent Lysander away to do whatever he pleased: run was my best guess, but I wasn’t too concerned. Elise gave me that knowing little smile; she knew as well as I did that if I stayed around him for too long I’d give in and drag my fingers through his thick hair and so much more. We returned to the safety of her church where we did our best to relax. There wasn’t much to be done before Kadrix had made the tracker. The hellmouth couldn’t be opened without a numb
er of sacrifices, and each required careful preparation. Or so Lysander had said. That left me with nothing but my own thoughts, which Elise wasn’t helping.
Once we’d eaten and the night had blossomed, she loaned me a scandalously short skirt and a silk halterneck affair before she led me to the club with the words, “You’re not leaving here without a man; we both know if you don’t get laid tonight you’ll be useless before long.”
I didn’t argue with her. I knew better.
I didn’t know what I’d expected with the club; somehow what I found myself in still managed to be unlike any of them. It was classy, elegant, and simple. More importantly, it was packed with beautiful people. The music filled the air, a heavy beat called me to dance. There were plenty of dark nooks and hidey holes that a number of couples and small groups were making the most of; Elise had abandoned me at the door with a clear idea of what was expected of me. I lost myself to the beat, allowing it to wash away all of my concerns and worries. It wasn’t long before a pair of large hands ran up my bare thighs and moved around my almost bare stomach.
He smelled of leather and peppermint, an odd combination, but I revelled in it. It was something other than hot metal and petrichor. We danced together for a couple of songs, our bodies pressed tight together, his hands slowly roaming over my flat stomach and pert breasts. My breathing had become shallow by the end of the third song, I needed him. It didn’t matter who he was, or even what he was, it had been too long. I turned to face him, my hands moving over his broad back, his pleasure was clear through his form-fitting pants. He pulled me into a deep kiss, his tongue thrusting into my mouth while his hand worked its way between my legs. I made no moves to stop him.