by Elle Lincoln
No more, Bette, you cannot continue to run.
Casseus’s voice intrudes upon my mind. It was too much to hope they would leave me be. And perhaps I’m grateful for that, considering I don’t feel as though they smother me. In fact, they give me the space I need to be the individual I need to be. Letting me grow on my own, but with a gentle push here and there. When I’m in need, all I must do is look behind me, and there they are.
Wings flap as a body lands beside mine on the branch.
For once he injects no smartass words into my head, just sitting in the silence as the day begins with the rising sun.
Have I ever told you about my past?
I cock my head to look at the inky raven beside me, jerking my own into what I hope is a solid no. His tone holds the serious nature Balor exudes, so I say nothing to him, curious about his life, and the break it will create to pull me from my reality.
I didn’t think so. I was never a good man, Bee. My life began a long fucking time ago. Just before they imprisoned Balor. Back then, it was every man for himself. You call me a pirate and some days I wonder if that is too good of a word for the man I was.
He pauses, watching as the sun creeps up the sky, igniting the valley into sepia tones.
I was the middle child, though I believe there is a joke about that in this modern world. I was but one of seven children. My parents were farmers living in southern France. The dark ages. I woke, tended the crops and the animals, ate, slept, and repeat. This life is luxurious compared to that.
His somber voice parallels my own mood, and he speaks slowly, as though he is reliving every moment of his past. Every action and every regret.
But taxes, the money hungry French, and their foolish rulers. They fumbled about for a long time before settling on emperors. But my life begins before that. To say it was violent would be kind. We did our best to keep to ourselves. I believe Augustus was ruling Rome at the time. Either way, if you lived to adulthood, you were poor and malnourished. I had three sisters and three brothers. It was just us after my father died, leaving us starving. I was seventeen. Old enough to marry and take care of the family with the rest of them. Nothing was ever enough. My baby sister, Deliah… You would have loved her. She was a more modern woman than I care to admit. We had this bond, and I’d have done anything for her.
I can hear the emotion in his voice, feel it, his heart aching as he relives his darkest memories.
This world with supernaturals and monsters didn’t exist to me. They stuck to the shadows, allowing humans to tear through the world with their own destruction. But it wasn’t even them that led me down a chance path. I met a mercenary for Rome on a trip to the market. He offered me things I could only dream of. I would like to tell you I took his job to feed my family, to take care of them. Truth be told, I was a selfish bastard, and I did it to better myself.
I took care of my family after I got the things I wanted. Deliah called me out on it multiple times, complaining about how I spent my blood money. I did everything to become the best mercenary possible. The emperor caught wind of my name, and that, my dear Bette, established the beginning of the end. I should have walked away from being his hired assassin. But I didn’t.
I don’t have to be psychic to know where this is leading. The raw pain in his voice is telling enough.
I killed the wrong man, and his family retaliated by slaughtering mine. By the time I got to them, the vultures were tearing at their flesh. But Deliah was nowhere. I hunted them down to find my baby sister beaten and raped, hanging on to life by a thread. The light in her eyes had died.
So, I killed them all. I didn’t even know they hurt me until afterward when I lifted Deliah to find her a doctor. But she came first, just as she deserved. I died placing her at the doorstep of the local medicine man.
That’s when the Sluagh found me. I tried to find her after I had changed, but she was a different person. All I ever caught were whispers of a child killer who drank the blood of her victims. I did that Bette. Me. I’ve had to live with that for over two thousand years, always looking in the shadows, wondering if my sister is there watching. Blaming me for the death of our family. I don’t know if she lives, and I doubt she knows I do.
I take flight, diving to the ground before allowing my body to transform into a human. Casseus follows behind me, landing much more gracefully than I ever could.
“I’m not looking for sympathy, Bette.” Casseus still holds his emotions close to his heart as his voice cracks. “I just want you to know that bad shit happens, and it isn’t always our fault.”
“Did you forgive yourself?” That question is more important than I could ever allow him to know.
“In a way. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, it just teaches you how to cope. I don’t regret my choices, because they led to you and Mac, and the others. It’s shaped me into the killer I am today, and that person is very much needed in this world.” He licks his dry lips. “But Deliah will always be at the back of my mind.”
“I’m sorry, Cas.”
He swipes his arm through the air, dismissing my apology. “You can’t apologize for something you had no say in.”
I nod, unsure what to say. He has had thousands of years to come to terms with the life he led. I’ve only had months. “You don’t think I should give up Kelsie?”
“I think there is always a way around any given situation. The Fae don’t play fair. We shouldn’t either.” He pauses, gnawing on that lip of his. “I do think we need to talk to Kelsie and find out exactly why her father wants her so badly.”
I huff. “He just wants to use her.”
“You need to realize that the Fae, the gods, and all the magical races have more motive than you give them credit for.” He holds up a hand, warding off my counter argument. “Chaos only looks like chaos because the untrained eye cannot see the patterns. They have a motive. Everything they do is well thought out and calculated, because they have millennia to play their games. To perfect their craft. Watch for the patterns, Bee. They are there.”
I sigh in frustration, my eyes glancing to the canopy ahead. “Okay.” It’s all I have to say, my hatred for them shadows my ability to think and I know this. “So, your sister is a vampire?”
He laughs, breaking the tension. “Yeah, or so I assume. Just tales and suspicions I’ve never been able to track down.” He shrugs, but I know it means more to him than he will let on.
“Should we head back?” I turn in what I assume is the correct direction of my burned down cabin.
“Soon.” He pinches his lips. “Did you see any dragons on your flight?”
“What? No.”
“Yeah, me neither.” He mumbles something under his breath I don’t quite get. “Can’t seem to find it again.”
“Casseus,” I growl.
“I may have fed a baby dragon my cigarette butt. In my defense, I didn’t know it was a dragon at the time.” I pinch the bridge of my nose as his words hit me. Dragons? “I figured if we could find the little guy, he would help us.”
“Did you ask Patrick?”
“Why would I do that?” I blink at him slowly. “I should ask Patrick, shouldn’t I?”
“Yes, you should,” I scoff. “Come on.” I turn around to see if I can shift into the raven to fly, when I realize something. “My clothing. Why am I wearing clothing, but when Logan shifts his tear to shreds?”
“It’s a different magic, sweetheart. Like when you turn into the mist, your clothing doesn’t dissolve because of its acidic nature. The wolves are more beast.” He lifts a lazy shoulder before tilting his head at me. “You good?”
I sigh again, blowing out the tension. Shouldn’t I be asking him if he is okay? “Yeah, ready to find the others.”
“We could,” he drawls, before moving quickly to stand before me, backing me slowly into a tree. His eyes darken and dilate with lust. “Or I can fuck you against this tree.”
My body heats, flooding me with pure desire. “Oh.” Damn Bette,
your vocabulary is on to something there.
“See, I haven’t gotten you alone yet.” His hands skims my sides to rest on my hips. “And I’ve been dying to bury my cock inside you.”
I close my eyes, my head slamming back against the tree. If he keeps talking, I’ll explode right here. I open my eyes, my cheeks flushing.
“You just have to tell me one thing, Bette.” He leans in, brushing his cheek against mine to nuzzle my neck. “Do you want it hard?” His hips slam mine back into the tree. “Or slow” He moves his body in a lazy roll, his erection pressing into my stomach.
“Fuck, Casseus.”
“That was the plan.” He nips my ear, and I’m quickly losing the ability to think. “I want to hear you scream my name through the woods. Loud enough to echo back to the guys. I want them to feel you as you cum around my cock.”
He steps away, my body almost falling in on itself. I sway then look at him in annoyance, with a curse on my lips.
“I want to watch as you strip for me.” He crosses his arms, waiting.
“Like a pole dancer?” I don’t tell him I once tried that job, but from the way his eyes darken, I know he heard that thought.
“We are definitely coming back to that. But no, right now I want you to strip naked so I can see every inch of your creamy skin exposed to the light.” He rips off his own shirt, tossing it to the side.
I swallow, gripping the fabric of my shirt before pulling it over my head and tossing it with his. My thumbs hook my pants as I shimmy them down and off. I’m ready to just give him my annoyed look, but he’s standing before me, his hands fisted as his eyes turn to pure black.
“Back against the tree.” His voice cracks with lust, becoming gravelly as his breaths come faster. I lean against the tree, waiting as he watches me.
There is something purely erotic about a man devouring a woman’s body with his eyes alone, standing exposed in the daylight as he learns every inch of me by sight alone, sending desire spiraling into my belly. My clit throbs with the need for his touch.
“Tell me, Bette, how wet are you?” He takes one step closer. My pulse pounds and the tension mounts. I need him to fuck me.
Instead, I play his game, widening my legs and leaning against the tree to shift my hips forward. My cool hand touches my inflamed skin, taking a lazy stroll down my body. One lone finger seeks the tuft of hair above my clit. I press down, teasing the hard nub before parting my lips. Hooking one finger, I swipe the fluid pooling there, lifting it to his gaze.
His control snaps and he shoots forward, his mouth descending on my fingers, lapping up my juice. His moan sends little electric shocks through me. My eyes stuck to his.
“I think you want nothing more than to be fucked right now. Don’t you?” He drops my hand to press his body against mine. He leans in, his lips grazing mine in a teasing touch.
Unable to hold back, I nip at his lip, drawing his plump bottom lip back between my teeth. I let go and refuse to give him time for any more commands. My lips mold to his, my tongue peeking out to spear his mouth before drawing back.
My body burns with desire, my belly constricting with need to take this man. Make him mine. It’s been far too long. I’ve denied myself this carnal pleasure. Feeling my need, he lifts me, letting me wrap my legs around his waist. I thrust my hips forward, seeking out the bulge of his cock and grinding until that sweet friction teases my clit.
Casseus pulls away. “Hold on tight.”
I smile, because there is no fucking way I’m going anywhere. He wiggles, trying like hell to free his cock with me wrapped around him like a spider monkey. But once he’s free, he teases my opening, I now try to wiggle, needing him to thrust.
“I want nothing more than to pound into you and feel you squeeze me until I come. But I want to hear you tell me what you want.” He rubs himself against me, leaving me panting and growling.
“I want…” I roll my hips, watching as his lids lower. “You to fuck me.”
He lifts me up before thrusting his hips forward and seating himself deep inside me. My breath leaves and my eyes roll into the back of my head.
“Every day, Bette.” He thrusts. “I want you to find this pleasure every fucking day.”
How is he talking and hitting every sensual spot inside my body? I can’t even think, I can only hold on as he pounds into me.
“No more of this depressive bullshit. Otherwise, I’m going to tie you down and fuck you until you come to your senses.” That’s not how it works, but I don’t argue because he is holding my hips back, denying me that friction. “Tell me you promise.”
“Promise what, Cas?” I try to roll forward.
“Promise that you will stop denying yourself.”
How do I argue with fucking logic? Literally fucking logic.
“Cas!” I groan, tired of his bullshit. I open our mental link, funneling my need, desire, and pleasure through and into him. I see it the moment the link snaps into place. His eyes roll into the back of his head and he tips it backward.
“You play dirty.”
“So do you. Now fuck me.”
Feeling his pleasure roll through me and my own ramping up and coiling tighter and tighter, I explode far too soon, listening as Casseus follows right behind me.
His lips find mine in a searing kiss before they pull away to nip my ear. “I also play dirty, and I’m not nearly done yet.”
His hips move with shallow thrusts. Our bodies, slick with sweat, slide against each other as he sets a steady pace.
“Now scream my name,” he commands, and I do for the next several hours.
Chapter 5
Patrick
Temper Tantrum
Bastards, the lots of ‘em. All of ‘em eejits. It’s a bloody explosion of magical proportions, and they think somewhere in here they will find something salvageable. If I thought anything was worth saving, I’d have tried to stop the damn burning ages ago.
“Let it burn!” I repeat again, and yet no one is listening to me. Maybe Bee and Cas would have listened, but the two flew off together.
Flew!
I can’t seem to wrap my head around that. I’d worry, but we are all in Casseus’s head and, well, I had to step away or suffer some violent blue balls.
“Oomph.” I have to adjust again just thinking about it, the bastard, sending us naughty glimpses in a forest. So, I sent memories right back at him. He wasn’t the first to take our girl against a tree.
I was. A smug grin lifts my lips.
“Why are you so happy with yourself?” Mac crunches over a piece of rubble.
“No reason.” Fuck this. I pull my ax from its hidey-hole and start swinging, busting down bits still standing.
“What are you doing?” Is he blind?
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I counter, knocking down a beam.
“That’s destructive, Patrick.” Logan rifles through more crispy crap.
“There is nothing here that is salvageable,” I remind the eejits.
“We aren’t looking for things that are salvageable, you eejit.” Did... Yep, Balor just called me an eejit.
I let it slide because he is a big motherfucker.
“Oh?” I question, because what the hell are we looking for?
“This is why you need to pay attention when we speak,” Mac points out, and I don’t miss Logan’s smirk. He’s too young to know better.
“I pay attention.” I take down another wall. If they won’t tell me what we are doing, then I have no reason not to knock down walls and beams.
“We are looking for a source,” Logan tells me, revealing the golden reason for the ridiculous endeavor.
“Magic, eejit.” I toss my ax back into the ether. There are better things to do. Like look for somewhere else to stay.
“Patrick.” Balor’s deep timber makes me pause. He’s the undiscussed leader, not just of our little group, but our territory. I’m not even mad about it. Because it makes sense that it’s him. I just...
Oh, who the hell knows. “Explain yourself.”
I walk forward a few feet, moving out of the rubble, before spinning to reply. Logan, Mac, and Balor all stare at me with the same annoyed expression. I start with the wolf. “Logan, what do you smell?” I try to make this easy on them.
“Smoke.” I wave my hands for him to continue. “Just smoke and ash.”
“Exactly.” Even I can smell the lack of something.
“There’s nothing else.” Logan finally catches on. “Nothing, not even our scent. How is that possible?”
“There you have it, folks!” I turn to walk away again.
“Patrick.” Balor’s voice once again makes me hesitate and turn around. I shake my head at him to continue, my eyes wide in irritation. “How did you know this?”
I shrug, feeling indifferent. “It’s the only thing that made any sense. Bette saw a shadow move away from the house just before the blast. She misted us. I’d bet you my left nut that if she hadn’t done that, then that fire would have vaporized us. It has no signature, no scent. Human fires smell, either with electric or gasoline or whatever set it off. Even the burn of wood and plastic. But then again, we knew this wasn’t just a human fire.” I heave a sigh, trying to keep my patience. I wish I knew why I was on edge and annoyed. “May as well just start rebuilding.”
Modern times had made life so frecking easy. You place a call, get someone to come out and look at your land, and then, bam, house within weeks. Now? It’ll be months before we can rebuild, because I suspect it’ll be us building a new freaking house.
“Where are you going, Patrick?” Once more, Balor questions me.
“To knock down some trees!” I pull my ax out again, I should have just kept the damn thing in my frecking hand. Balor grunts behind me as I stalk into the woods. I have to feed my little creatures anyway.
I let out a long whistle with several short bursts, while I thrash through the forest, frustration eating away at me. However, the deeper I go, the less pronounced it becomes. The brush rattles, and I’ve decided I’ve gone far enough. I don’t bother with feed today, instead just slicing my forearm open with my ax. Holding the blade and cutting oneself is harder than I expected it to be. I embrace the pain of the wound, hoping it calms me down.