by Sariah Skye
“What…the…shit?” I stammered, completely dumbfounded. “What did I even do?”
Rhys folded his arms over his chest and smirked smugly. “Sometimes you need to know when to drop the sword and find peace. Fighting isn’t always the answer. This is how the sword doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Xander stalked up to us, wagging an accusatory finger at him. “You knew. You knew this whole time how to do it, didn’t you?”
He shrugged indifferently. “Of course. But I’m sworn to secrecy. I actually couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to; it’s a spelled secret. If I tried, I’d actually become mute for about a week.”
Mathias snorted sardonically. “Should have tried to tell us then.”
Rhys just glared. “Ha. Ava, you should look at the other side.”
“Other side?” I turned the sword over in my hand, and gasped. “Dame Avalon Dawson. My name? How does it know?”
“Dame; it’s the female equivalent of a knight. It’s a brilliant piece of magic. It knows all. It senses what you need. Look, even at the stone. It knows you. She belongs to you now. Use her well,” Rhys said; his tone was entirely serious, like some menacing figure out of a movie. But seeing how a lot of those movies were about him… it worked.
“Pffft. Okay, well, this is all fine and good,” I said, turning the blade over in my hand, “but I can’t exactly walk around with a big ol’ sword all the time. So this is great, but—”
To my ultimate surprise the metal of the sword hummed, and the golden light swirled around it, shrinking it into a much-smaller dagger.
“Holy shit!” I exclaimed; Rhys just stood there, looking giddy.
“A shape-shifting sword.” Mathias shook his head in disbelief, clicking his tongue. “I have seen it all now. I thought it’d seen it all before but—nope. This is it. This is all.” Xander was just simply speechless.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. Mathias, Xander, and I just stared at each other, open mouthed.
“Och, what’d I miss? I had to run after a ruddy rogue bear on the property. Took forever to tag the guy but—” Trystan stopped suddenly. “Um…what the shite?”
“Exactly what I said,” I repeated in agreement.
“Ava unlocked Excalibur.” Mathias was still amazed.
I felt something nudge my elbow, I almost thought it was a dog but in the chaos of the attunement of the sword, I’d forgotten briefly of the doe.
“Aw, the poor thing.” I held the sword—err, dagger— at my side, afraid that if I dropped it the magic would disappear.
“That bear was chasing her. Ava stopped him,” Xander said. “More or less.”
“She’s obviously ill, can we do something?” I asked.
“Aye.” Trystan watched the deer silently, communicating telepathically. “Sounds like she was caught in some sort of ditch; when she was finally able to get out she was chased by that bear. Let’s get her into the barn and into a stall and I’ll take a look. I think she’s mostly just hungry.” He managed to urge the deer to follow us into the barn; Mathias and Xander wasted no time in spreading hay over the wooden floor of a stall, and Rhys and I headed for the fridge for food for her. When she’d eaten a healthy helping of greens and was settled in, Mathias pulled me away for more… training.
And this training involved stabbing large, makeshift scare-crow like dummies repeatedly. A little bit morbid, especially considering they were as anatomically correct as they were; Mathias spent a lot of painstaking time filling them with meat (surprising, since he was more or less a vegetarian) and various things I actually didn’t want to know what they were to mimic how it actually felt and how hard it was to actually stab someone. Being that I was generally going to go up against supes, every cut had to count because there was a good chance I wouldn’t get another. Unsurprisingly, it was much harder than I thought, and I was thankful for the lesson; it took quite a bit of strength. Even though I hadn’t worked out a ton these past couple months, I was happy to report that my upper arm prowess was tougher than normal; I attributed that to all the reverse-missionary positions I was frequently involved in. That made it much easier driving a dagger through layers of skin, muscle, and organ.
After about an hour or so of handling various knives, shivs, daggers and other pointy damn objects I didn’t know the name of, Mathias was satisfied that I could hold my own if I had to; at least enough to get away if Rhys bailed or wasn’t fast enough. The wizard scoffed at the idea of course but regardless Mathias was right; be prepared for the worst and hope for the best.
Nightfall was beginning to set in and if we wanted to get to the college and seek out those rogue incubi, I needed to get upstairs and make myself bait-worthy. Reluctantly, Mathias was going to be the odd-one-out; the rest of us would be going to the party. And he was less than thrilled about this but since he was in charge of all the business decisions—that he ran by me first of course, not that I knew a thing about them, but I appreciated it nonetheless—there were some things he needed to take care of especially after last night’s events.
Despite protests from the guys, I locked myself up alone in my room, tearing up my wardrobe and makeup for all the right things. I was going to go all out to make extra sure that these incubi didn’t miss me, which was a distinct possibility. Even being in my twenties, I couldn’t compete with some of these young girls. With their perky boobs, thick hair, and propensity to dress promiscuously, I had my work cut out for me. I’m not sure why I felt so adamant about doing this and doing it well… perhaps it was because I felt like I needed to contribute. I needed to do this.
It was around eight-thirty at night, and we were planning to leave by nine; most of these parties didn’t get going until at least ten but we didn’t want to take chances. St. Cloud was roughly about an hour away—less depending upon who was driving—so we were cutting it close.
I’d decided to wear a lacy form fitting, low-cut white dress, and nude colored, platform chunky heels that buckled around the ankles and made my legs look even shapelier than normal. The dress stopped just over my knees and clung to every swoop and curve of my body. I don’t even remember when I got this dress; the last time I wore it was probably the last party Summer and I attended years ago. I usually preferred dark colors at the club. But, I needed to stand out; and this was all I had besides the beautiful dress the guys bought me. As much as I liked that, this made a much bigger statement. It clearly said, in no uncertain terms: “Fuck me.”
The look was completed with my hair, curled to full volume with plenty of hairspray, full at the crown, parted to the side just over my eye and pinned just under my hairline above one ear, to show off the long dangly silver earrings from my lobes; and a full makeup job. Smoky eye, winged liner, all the right contouring, brow sculpting, lip liner and bright, glossy pink lipstick. I finished off with a few sprays of the nicest, strongest perfume I had; it was even one of those that supposedly had pheromones in it for extra attraction. Because until recently, I needed all the help I could get. Mathias and Xander would hate it all—neither of them cared for a ton of makeup— but they didn’t have to like it. The baby-incubi did.
I grabbed my sparkly silver clutch bag and put the essentials inside; foldable flats, lipstick, compact, eyeliner, and of course my cell phone. Taking a glance at myself in the bathroom mirror, I even gasped; I barely recognized myself. Summer taught me makeup well, she’d definitely be proud. I even did something I never, ever did: I took a selfie with my cell, complete with pursed lips and sent it to her. Not more than a minute went by before I got a message in reply:
HOLY SHIT GIRL! YOU ARE HOT!
That was all the confirmation I needed. I told her thanks, and she asked me what we were up to. I tucked the bag under my arm and proceeded to text while I walked, my heels rhythmically clicking on the wooden floor as I went; my eyes concentrated on the text messages with Summer.
When I’d reached the bottom stair, and my shoes clacked loudly on the floor announcing my arriv
al, I didn’t hear anything except for the sound of breaking glass. Glancing up, I arched a brow.
Mathias was in the kitchen, preparing some quick sandwiches. Xander was eating his while leaning against the wall and he dropped his plate on the floor, that was the sound of the glass breaking. He didn’t even move to address it; his OCD temporarily forgotten.
Trystan and Bash were conversing in the living room, talking in hushed tones but they promptly stopped when I entered the room. All four sets of eyes were bugging out of their heads.
Hesitating, I frowned uncertainly. “That bad, huh?”
“Bad? Bad?” Bash laughed wildly. “You have to be joking. You cannot be that dense.”
“Huh?” I felt the skin pucker between my brow with the funny look I gave him.
“Ava, you look like a walking sin.” Xander said, his hand brushing across his chin, raking a finger over his lips as his eyes appraised me. “Like, if I were religious, I’d be heading to confession right now for all the extremely, nasty, dirty thoughts I was having.”
Bash nodded slowly, his eyes agape. “What he said.”
Internally, I flushed. But, I didn’t want them to know I was satisfied with their reactions—big tough independent woman and all— so I just shrugged with indifference.
Trystan shifted on his feet, normally ready with a snappy word, or perverted come back, only uttered a simple, “Shite.”
Mathias wasn’t moving. His eyes narrowed as they roved my body. “Nope. Nope nope nope nope.” He stomped the distance between the kitchen and the stairs and clamped his large hands over my biceps. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I caught a hint of crimson shading his deep brown eyes.
“Nope, what?” I asked.
“You cannot wear that to a party full of drunks. There’s no way.”
I set my hands on my hips. “I can wear what I want.”
“But—” Mathias leaned over, gently sniffing my neck. “Is that—perfume?” He swallowed thickly. “Shit…”
“Hmmph,” I said, stalwartly determined not to acknowledge the ogling eyes, the heavy lids, or the racing hearts as I paced about the room. I wasn’t going to acknowledge that knowing all four of their eyes were on me was sending my libido into overdrive; though they could probably smell it. And I definitely wasn’t going to let them know how pleased it made me.
Let’s be real; every woman wanted to feel beautiful to someone. I am sure guys did too. Sometimes you could find that beauty in yourself—and you should, you absolutely should— but sometimes you really, really just needed someone else to acknowledge it, no matter how tough or independent you were. It wasn’t an accomplishment, it wasn’t a triumph and it was far from logical. A triumph is getting your degree or putting a child through college or putting dinner on the table. This was just frivolous, fairy tale stuff. I hated admitting it about myself; that I wanted them to find me beautiful. My entire life I wondered what was wrong with me. Summer said I was beautiful, my mom said it. I even didn’t really hate how I looked most of the time; I just wished someone else appreciated it once in a while.
Everyone deserved to be cherished. Even cambions. I know I cherished the hell out of them; out of all four of them. I dreamed about their scents, about how their bodies felt pressed against me in throes of passion, about running my hands through Mathias’ ridiculously soft hair, or scratching my nails over Bash’s persistent blond facial stubble or being the recipient of Xander’s shit-ass grin or tracing my fingers over Trystan’s sexy ink. It was nice to think the feeling was mutual; I wondered what they thought of when they dreamed—if they dreamed—of me.
No one said anything as I nonchalantly crossed the room, going for a silver stunner and a flexible leg holster on the end table. Excalibur was just sitting casually on the coffee table, like it wasn’t the most powerful weapon in existence, and I gripped the hilt, picturing it as a much smaller knife that could easily be sheathed to my thigh. The effect was nearly instantaneous. I grabbed the stunner, cocking and checking the safety, feeling rather like a seductive James Bond villainess, and slipped it into my handbag. Next, I gripped the holster, leaned over, and hiked up my dress.
Another plate dropped. I didn’t respond to it, as I attempted to strap the thing to my shapely leg, but one of the buckles fastened in the back and my coordination sucked.
“Umm…” Mathias’ expression was shaded, as he knelt to his knees. “May I?”
I shrugged coolly. “Sure.” But secretly inside my heart wanted to explode as his hands trailed up my smooth leg, softly grazed against my thigh, and masterfully buckled the sheath on my leg. He glanced up at me, his breath caught in his chest; I caught that red-rimmed color in his eyes. That was new, I’d say Mathias had a thing for legs. Something good to know for later.
His gaze was weighted with lust as he glanced up at me and gingerly pulled the hem of my skirt back down in place.
Someone coughed pointedly; Mathias shook himself out of his haze and quickly stood, smiling at me bashfully.
“Well, are we going?” I asked.
“Right.” Mathias brushed out his pale lavender shirt and adjusted the sleeves, rolled to his thick biceps. “I have club duty tonight; but it’s probably just as well. There is no way I’d blend in with a bunch of co-eds,” he said, laughing dryly. He wasn’t wrong.
“It’s good, just in case Rhys has to teleport Ava home tonight,” Bash said, his eyes kept roving to my ass. “That way you’re not alone.”
“Um, she’d be with me!” Rhys protested.
Trystan snickered. “In other words, alone.” Rhys stuck his tongue out with petulance at him.
“You are not to leave Ava’s side for a minute. Don’t even go to the bathroom without him,” Mathias instructed sternly. “Just… make sure you close your eyes.”
He shrugged. “Don’t worry; I couldn’t look at her that way. She looks too much like Lancelot.”
I glowered. “Thanks.”
“The rest we’ll just play by ear,” Bash said. He motioned to Xander and Trystan, who were still dumbfounded. Xander was still picking up shards of broken plates from the floor. “Who is driving?”
“Me. That way if Mathias wrecks my car, I’ll have his,” Trystan said, with a grin.
Mathias rolled his eyes. “I’m not taking that damn thing; I’m taking Xander’s, so I don’t look like I’m flying down the road in a damned lemon. Well, it sounds like we’re all set.” Mathias set a hand on my shoulder, carefully eyeing my face. He pushed my hair gently back over my shoulder and leaned into my ear. “I still don’t think you need the makeup, but if you don’t mind my saying so, you are sexy as hell,” he whispered softly, gripping the sides of my shoulders. His lips brushed against my temple for a long, affectionate kiss. “Be safe, okay? Keep your weapons on you, don’t leave Rhys’ side, and keep the others in your sight at all times. Promise?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
Trystan, Bash, and Xander gathered at the door, followed by Rhys. Bash found his leather jacket on a hook, and placed it over my shoulders, winking at me gently.
Xander opened the secret compartment with all the weapons, and started passing out the inconspicuous ones; daggers, shivs, another small stunner. He begrudgingly even handed a knife to Rhys, which he declined.
“My magic is enough, trust me.” It wasn’t even boastful, just fact.
Xander narrowed his eyes, thrusting the sheathed knife to him. “You will be armed. If there is one thing I have learned—well two things—never overestimate magic. There is always a weakness.”
“Fine. Even though I’m the greatest sorcerer that ever lived…” He grumbled under his breath. Rhys fastened the weapon to the belt loops of his dark jeans and pulled his shirt over, so no one could see. “So, what’s the other thing?”
“Oh.” He flashed me a wide grin. “Never underestimate Ava.”
“Damn straight,” I muttered, but I smiled at him.
Bash pretended to cough into his hand. “Suckup.” Xander just gave hi
m a slight shove. “Also, each of those blades is covered with a particularly nasty poison. It’s almost guaranteed to take out a supe if you can subdue one. Particularly useful on incubi, but don’t get any ideas,” he said shaking a finger at Rhys.
“I’d never!” Rhys pretended to be wounded.
“Hmm.” Bash reached past Xander into the closet, pulled out a large brown bag, and threw it over his shoulder; glass bottles inside clinking loudly. “Reinforcements,” he said to me with a wide grin.
We piled into Mathias’ Suburban; Trystan and Xander, the two tallest in front, Rhys in the middle, and Bash and I took up the back seat as it had slightly more room to stretch out, and Bash was taller than Rhys. At least that was the excuse.
Five minutes into the drive, my cell phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my handbag and slid open the display.
I cocked a brow at Bash sitting next to me, who smirked playfully.
You look fucking hot. That was his text message to me. Rolling my eyes, I gave him a sidelong glance; his tall, chiseled body slumped back into the seat. He looked gorgeous in a green V-neck shirt that tucked easily into a pair of fitted blue jeans that hung low on his hips, and a pair of black boots. His hair was brushed to the side and slightly spiked out of his piercing blue gaze.
Smirking, I typed back in my phone, You are hot too.
He slid over to me on the bench seat, wrapped his arm around my neck and urged me against him.
“What is that perfume?” He whispered to me quietly, his voice husky.
I shrugged. “Just something I had.”
“Hmm. Promise me you’ll wear it again next time we’re together. And only that.”
“Maybe…” I purred. Bash set his hand on my knee and traced lazy circles on my bare skin as I leaned against him, his head tilted against mine.
“So, did you learn anything doing your stuff today?” I asked, trying to keep my thoughts off of every time his thumb grazed under my dress ever so slightly.
“Maybe,” Bash said. “Just various legends on the holy grail. Or… grails depending upon how you look at it.” He sighed. “There are a lot of different theories but so far I can find nothing that even resembles a spell.”