by M F Adele
I was sure they were the ones that Sloane had offered Lucifer. Their labels stuck out as much as their aroma.
Gatekeeper. Magic Toast. Black Market.
“Found my stash?”
“I did. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. Having them gone gives me an excuse to drive down and see Jenny.”
She took the cigar—Magic Toast—from my hand, punching a hole in the end with a tiny black… Thing. Her thumb glowed red as she placed it against the other end, lighting the cigar.
“Who is Jenny?”
“She’s the best. She’s also the only human who knows that I’m not quite like them. She watched me fall from the building across the street from her work. When I asked her to help me realign my arm, she didn’t flinch, and I decided that I liked her.”
It went against every rule for a human to know anything about us.
So, of course, naturally, Sloane would break it.
“How many people do you think know that there are supernaturals and other realms?”
“I don’t know. A few, at least, but then I’ve never thought about it enough to come up with an actual number.”
“I wonder how many of them know that we’re immortal?”
She bounced her fingers between us as she sat on the left arm of the chair. “We’re not Immortal.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re not immortal,” she repeated.
“Right. But we can’t die,” I argued eloquently.
“No, we can’t. That doesn’t mean that we’re only immortal.”
I leaned to the right, staring at her with furrowed brows. “I’m gonna need a bit more than that, Love.”
“What I’m saying is there’s a difference between immortal and eternal.” She shrugged.
“When you’re immortal, it means that there are ways that you can meet your true death. It’s just very few and far between. But living for eternity means that we have everlasting life. Nothing can kill us.
“That’s what Lucy was trying to tell us—or me—when he was explaining the power that he gave me. The mimicry.”
She gnawed at a freshly painted nail—black, instead of her usual red—and strode across the library to open a cabinet. Two glasses appeared in her hand, and she poured three fingers of whiskey in both before returning to me. She curled her legs under her as she sat in the chair adjacent to me.
“What happens when we seal our bond? Lucy speculated that each of you would gain access to the mimicry power. He feels like that also means you’ll be just as eternal as I am. I agree with him, but I don’t want to test the theory.”
“Mated couples or groups age together. You have the longest projected lifespan out of all of us, so there’s no theory to test, Love.”
I set the cigar on the ashtray between us. Then I stood, tugging her back to her feet so I could pull her into my lap.
“What if my lifespan is solely based on the mimicry? Without it, I could have—”
“No. That’s not how it works. Yer not an exception to the evolution of supernaturals. Yer mother and her mates would have gained the lifespan of Sam. He’s a demon-angel hybrid, Sloane. He’ll live forever. Yer parents will live forever.
“You are part demon and angel. The extra power has nothin’ to do with how long ye’ll live. Do ye see what I’m gettin’ at?”
“I see it. I’m just trying to comprehend what we share through the bond.”
“We literally have forever to figure it out, Love. It’s not the most pressing issue right now.”
“I know. It’s just… All the things that have happened in the last few weeks have been beating down on me. Every time I think I know what’s going on, the direction changes, and I'm lost again. I don’t know what’s important and what isn’t. It’s slowly driving me crazy.”
I nodded. “So yer tryin’ to sort out the things we haven’t looked at.”
She sighed, easing her way out of my lap. “I don’t think any of it is important right now, but I’ve been wrong before. It would be a shame to overlook any more small details simply because they aren’t a priority to me.”
“Yer right. I’ll start lookin’ into what I can, but ye should talk to the guys about it too. They’ll have a different perspective on the small things.”
“That’s where I’m heading now. I can’t let books and a sexy mage distract me. I already lose hours in this room when I’m here.”
“Oh? No sex in the stacks today? Ye should scurry along before I change my mind.”
She chuckled, her rasping voice filling the space around me as she leaned down to whisper, “I’ll be back, Mage. I’ve been curious about how sturdy those shelves are.”
As she sauntered away, images assaulted me. I groaned, smiling to myself. I liked being in charge, but I wasn’t above taking suggestions.
I padded over to the shelf she’d flashed me, attempting to shake it to test its durability. Right in front of my face was a book titled Hard Men. I snorted, not the least bit surprised that she’d send me to the smut section of the library.
After milling about for a few minutes, searching for a good read, I spotted a stack of books on the table in the center of the room. The worn leather spines called to me.
I picked one up, realizing these were the books Sloane had borrowed from Hell. The first one was about demonic insects; I cast it aside. The second book was more promising, so I flipped through the table of contents, skimming the topics.
Species by territory. Habitats. Lifespans. Demonic bonds.
Lifespans was a chart of estimates, and it was wholly disappointing. I didn’t realize that some of the animals from the Underworld could live for hundreds of years, but I didn’t think the numbers were factual at all.
Demonic bonds was short and to-the-point, taking me no time to speed-read and understand.
The hellhounds had bonded with her, and so had Pete. That meant they would be with her until she died, so they would live forever too.
Being bonded with Sloane also meant that they had none of the major animalistic qualities that they had when they were seeking mates or wanted to carry on their bloodline.
The chapters on the actual animals were simultaneously fascinating and alarming.
What was truly terrifying was just how much of an oddity the pedmar was.
Pete wasn’t simply the hellish version of an elephant.
He was insanely intelligent, intuitive, and resilient. Sloane was worried about how the magic was affecting him, but I didn’t think she knew exactly how much magic was in him.
As I continued reading about pedmars, I realized that they used to be more than animals. Maybe they were only animals now, but in the beginning—just like dragons—the Pedmars were the animal form of shifters.
One book mentioned that the pedmar had once shifted to a huge human-ish form, but when they did, they had been giants.
Another book speculated that they lost the ability to shift because of a curse. But there was nothing conclusive about what the curse was or who placed it on the entire species of Pedmar.
Both options were believable, aligning together to show me a picture I wasn’t ready to imagine.
I couldn’t stop myself.
I began to wonder if Pete was a giant underneath all of that black, leathery skin. I couldn’t help but think he could be a man, and he might be trapped in his animal form.
If he was a person under the animal skin, did that mean his bond with Sloane was a mate bond? Or… Just a connection like she had with Jack? It couldn’t be the same thing she had with the hounds.
All of the information rattled around in my brain, driving me crazy with questions that popped up.
I’d been teaching folklore and mythology at the local University for three years, and I’d studied it throughout my life. There were many speculations about giants, but out of the folklore that we had, no one ever mentioned them possibly turning into something else.
Giants had been presumed extinct for s
everal millennia, but maybe they weren’t dead at all. The Underworld’s latest sighting of giants had been a few hundred years ago.
I moved away from my chair, heading toward a study table in the center of the library. Stacking the books atop the tower, I sought out the books on hellhounds.
Once I located them, I leafed through the first one, scanning the passages in hopes that something would jump off the page at me.
They were the top predators in the Underworld. Nothing preyed on them, not even the demons. Sloane had mentioned that they were often captured by power-hungry demons who were then unsuccessful in their attempts to tame them.
On average, the hellhound population killed twenty-seven demons per year.
The emphasis on the deaths made me scoff.
Sharks killed around six humans per year.
My mate had killed at least two hundred people in the last seven days…
Alone.
I couldn't find anything about the extra traits or powers that the boys had. That made me wonder if they too shared some of the mimicry power with her. Except, instead of being able to mimic her powers, they had developed their own over time.
I needed to ask Sloane if they had always had those powers or if it was something they had learned with age.
I had never thought about how close they must be to Sloane for them to run in such a small pack.
The books stated that hellhounds needed interaction with each other or they would go mad. A small pack was twenty, and there were citations of larger packs nearing one hundred members.
It said that in bigger packs the adults would often fight
We didn’t see the whole of Lira’s pack, but the way her pups followed her lead had me believing that she had her unit under control.
They lived incredibly long lifespans and were slow to breed, which kept the population at a manageable level. One of the books also mentioned that a standard litter was four to six pups.
Only half made it to adulthood.
That was standard in many animal species, but it was a shocking fact to learn about hellhounds.
The causes of death in pups ranged from getting caught in the middle of adults fighting to getting trampled when the pack ran together. Mutations at birth had been reported as well, but there was nothing that explained what that meant.
Did Sloane’s hellhounds have mutations? That could be why they weren’t in their pack anymore, why Sam had chosen them for his daughter.
Were the mutations health issues or another case of supernatural creatures evolving into something new?
That was a mind-consuming road I wasn’t keen on following.
The books were quite insightful in some areas, but lacking in others. It was clear to me that not many demons cared to study the wildlife around them in the Underworld.
And godsdamnit, I was curious.
I suddenly felt like Stone, always wanting to know more. Instead of his straightforward line of questions, mine were warped and bent. I saw the beauty in a new world but didn’t fully understand the dangers of the Underworld.
Danger on Earth was something that I could easily wrap my head around, though.
With a sigh, I tucked the books back onto the shelf in the library and set out to find Sloane. We had some other things that we needed to talk about.
Like the tracker the angel had placed on me.
She wouldn’t like my idea, but it was the only thing I could think of to get rid of the tracker. If it killed me in the process, at least she’d be safe.
She could stay away from Belfast and the guild, and the guys could make sure that the angel didn’t find her.
As I was thinking it, I knew it was bullshit. Raguel would never stop looking for her, and she was going to need my knowledge of him at some point.
The spell would certainly kill me, though. That was the only way to remove the magical tracker. There was no other way unless the angel took it off himself.
The odds of that option weren’t favorable.
So death.
But hopefully not a final one…
I knew she was powerful enough. I knew she cared about me to some extent.
I was gambling with my idea, though.
I’d built my mental walls as strong as I could manage as I lumbered down the stairs. I didn’t want her to hear everything. My plans had already begun to weigh my conscious mind down.
She was going to be so fucking pissed at me.
Keeping her away from Raguel was worth every ounce of her wrath.
What I was going to ask her to do was only a miracle to the ordinary. Sloane was the most capable person I knew, and if she couldn’t do it, then it was an impossible task from the beginning.
I took a deep breath, pushing away any lingering doubts.
When I found her, I almost changed my mind.
Almost.
She looked so happy joking around with the guys, and I didn’t want to ruin that for her. But she was the only one that could help me, she was the only one that was powerful enough to finish the spell once I’d started it.
All the weight would transfer to her shoulders until the magic was finished; and that made me feel like a shitty mate.
I stood in the doorway, listening to her bicker with the guys, watching them adore her in ways that I didn’t think she quite understood.
I couldn’t say that I would’ve understood them either had the roles been reversed, but it was easy to see when you looked from the outside in.
Her multicolored eyes sparkled with mirth as she looked at me, the grin on her face morphing into a smirk.
“Don’t start counting now, Mage.”
“I forget… What number was I on?”
“I’m not going to remind you.”
I shrugged. “Let’s just say five, and then we can call it even.”
“Oh no. We were not at five yet, there’s no way we reached five so quickly.”
She playfully glared at me as Briggs pulled her into his lap, leaning close to her ear as he murmured, “I thought it was six, but I won’t tell them if you don’t.”
She snorted at him.
“It was not six either. It was more like… Two.”
“Are you sure, Kitten?” Stone asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Very sure.” She glared at the demon. “He lost his numbers when he took part in convincing the djinn that I was dangerous.”
York bumped my shoulder. “It could’ve been seven, and she would never admit to it.”
She gasped playfully and then wobbled her head from side to side. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but I’m also not saying you’re right.”
“Of course not,” Novak whispered to her. “Why would you admit to it if they don’t know?”
“Ye know, don’t ya?” I looked at the vampire, eyeing him suspiciously.
Vaughn nodded his head, raising his eyebrows at me. “Why would you even ask? You know he knows. You also know he’s not going to say anything.”
“From the mouth of my Trouble, I’m not saying you’re wrong. But what I am saying is if you’re starting your count over then I want to watch. I’ll keep my hands to myself, but yeah,” Novak drawled. “I want to watch.”
“When do you ever keep your hands to yourself?” Vaughn asked in disbelief.
The vampire rolled his lips in, nibbling at them to stop a smile. “Often.”
We all scoffed at him.
“Don’t give me that shit. Some of you don’t complain about it,” he grumbled.
28
Sloane
Monday, June 8th
Night
I was noticing a trend with my guys that included the kitchen, beer, and teasing each other. I adored watching them as they interacted with one another, but occasionally I needed some time to clear my thoughts.
Pete had always been one of my favorite quiet places. Lounging with him in the palace stables in Hell had been my escape as a child. And he’d continued to help me hide from reality as an adult.
/>
I’d followed the path from the patio to the pool and kept going to the opposite side of the estate. Footsteps sounded behind me, dragging slightly against the brick footstones, too loud to be Stone or Novak, too quiet to be York or Briggs. Not calm enough to be Vaughn.
I stopped, glancing over my shoulder, as I waited for Palmer to catch up to me. He smirked, wiggling his fingers for me to keep moving.
“Did you want to join me or were you working on your stalking skills?”
“I was enjoyin’ the view.” He tilted his head back, staring up at the starless sky in fake wonder.
“The stars are lovely tonight,” I commented sarcastically.
“Well, go on then. Keep gazin’ and I’ll do the same.”
I snorted, grabbing his hand to pull him closer to me. “I’m going to check on Pete, see how he likes all the open space.”
My mage raised a brow at me, threading his fingers with mine as we ambled down the path. “Yer goin’ to make sure the hellhounds aren't driving him insane.”
“That too.”
The pedmar’s stable had been built near the detached garage where the guys parked their cars. Instead of putting up any kind of fence, Franklin had asked for him to be included in the new barrier that went up around the property.
Pete seemed content with the recent changes in scenery, but nothing made him happier than having company.
When we came round the corner of the house, a massive, black shadow lay on the ground. The pedmar had his ears folded over his face and his trunk extended away from his head. He made a whistling sound as he slept, the tip of his ears fluttering with each exhale.
As we drew closer, he lifted his right ear to peek at us.
“Are you going to sleep out here? It’s going to be hot once the sun comes up.”
He made a chattering sound with his teeth, letting me know he was aggravated.
“Okay. I understand. Do you mind if we hang out with you for a few minutes? Palmer is really loving the stars tonight.”
Pete lifted his head to view the sky, a deep breath leaving the end of his trunk before he gave us a single chirp.