Fourteen - Evangeline
My skin itched with irritation as we stood in front of Ruffalo’s Inn. Richard’s reveal six weeks ago about the truth of Aurelia’s death was really starting to fuck with me, and I didn’t like being off my game. Doing so got me killed. It had almost got me spilling too much of my own pain to Redric, which he definitely would’ve used against me, if not all of Raza.
But the urge to talk to someone, to let out all the pain and confusion inside was building up with a pressure that was getting so much harder to contain.
“Perhaps you can tell the Dame,” Aurelia suggested.
I bit back a snort. Yes. Skip telling Redric and instead tell someone who had all her fingers, toes, and tongue stuck deep in the underworld. That would be so much safer.
“She has doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“She works with the mafia, Aurelia. Her morals are questionable.”
“But she hasn’t blackmailed any of them. She keeps secrets. That’s why they keep going to her.”
It was so fucking dumb that I wanted to believe her. Forcing all thoughts of Aurelia, the real Aurelia, down, I turned to Redric. “Do you feel any better after having killed me?” I murmured softy, conscious of all the fairies moving in the street.
I had killed so many people. A countless amount while fighting in the war. An unfathomable amount more as head of the fairy intelligence. Aurelia’s death had pushed me into a merciless crusade of justice, and in a position of judge, jury, and executioner, I had swung my sharpened sword continuously.
None of those deaths had made me feel any better, but then, none of those people had been the person I’d really wanted to kill.
Redric studied me as the sunlight warmed his face, catching in the stubble on his chin and cheeks. His silver eyes looked nearly luminescent in the reflection of the morning rays, and yet they were still so dark in his anger.
Just as he opened his mouth, a presence at my back caused me to turn.
Or maybe I’d turned because I didn’t want to hear him say yes. Yes, he loved hurting me. Yes, I’d missed my chance to kill Richard and now I would regret it for the rest of my life.
I focused on the man walking towards us. He wore a long-sleeved red Jacques tunic and black trousers. His dark-green hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. A single piercing hugged his left ear.
“Mr and Mrs Dahy, my name is Erin Gread, and I’m here on behalf of Midnights. Please come with me.” Looking at us expectantly, he gestured down an alley, the movement pulling up his sleeve enough for me to catch the tail of a runic tattoo on the underside of his left wrist.
At the sight of it, I wondered if the Dame had sent him to kill us here rather than bring us to the resort like I’d expected. I would’ve bet money on her luring us to the resort, where no one could find us, before beginning the interrogation. She’d want to know just what we were after and if it jeopardized her business – questions she couldn’t get if she just killed us. But the man was a witch, and I suddenly wasn’t keen on following him into the alley.
Regardless, I smiled as I passed Erin, not wanting to fight out in the open and ruin my cover in this face. I headed in the direction he gestured, and the two of them followed me. The sun had yet to touch the shadows here, and each flicker of movement in my peripheral, caused by the swaying of the twigs above, had my hairs rising on edge. I didn’t have any protection runes on my skin in this body, nothing to warn me of any impending danger. Just a lifetime of experience.
“That’s far enough, Mrs Dahy’s,” Erin said, his voice lacking the coldness of an executioner.
I turned to face him, noting the casualness of his stance, the ease with which he stood beside Redric. My pulse started to settle, realising my experience might’ve been more like paranoia. Though in this line of work, that wasn’t a bad thing.
“If you two will just stand together,” he continued, “I will send you to the retreat.”
My smile turning genuine, I nodded. As Redric moved to my side, the man squatted down in front of us. Placing two fingers on the ground, he walked around us, drawing a black line on the bark of the tree. Connecting it, he rose.
“Have either of you traveled by magic before?” he asked, his tone that of a man who had long worked in customer service.
“Once,” Redric said, the word clipped, his face paling. Traveling this way was not a pleasant experience, our bodies not meant to be torn apart so completely and then put back together. It was safe, well, as safe as magic could be, but it was highly nauseating and often left people incapacitated upon their arrival – something I’m sure the Dame deliberately wanted.
She might be on friendly terms with a lot of people in the mafia, but such relationships were volatile and prone to doing one-eighties.
Lying, I shook my head and grabbed Redric’s hand, pretending to need his comfort when in reality, I was giving him mine.
“Aw...look at you caring,” Aurelia teased.
I looked at her dryly but didn’t release Redric’s hand.
Erin smiled at me. “It’s nothing to be afraid of, Mrs Dahy. You’ll feel a slight discomfort, but that’ll be over in a second.”
A slight discomfort, my ass.
But I didn’t say that, just nodded acceptingly.
Erin clapped his hands together, and the black line shot up into the air, filling with a vortex of wind whipping around us. Pushing out with my magic, I studied his spell, needing to know how he was casting it so I could counter the effects without killing us.
Mumbling beneath my breath, I pushed a bit of magic into Redric, protecting him from the majority of the pain. I grunted as his agony flew into me, the transportation spell not allowing anything to leave the circle until we landed at the resort.
My nails dug into his palm, and he turned to me, a look of bewilderment in his eyes. A tick rose in the corner of my lips. Sweat rolling down my face, I exhaled roughly and took on more of his pain just as we vanished from the alley. Red hot pokers shoved onto every nerve. We were ripped apart and remade somewhere with bright sunlight and no bark beneath our feet. Soft soil cushioned our bodies as we crumbled to the ground, and the sound of a creek trickled under the tweets of birds.
I shuddered as I released my magic, gasping as the pain ricochetted through me in hot bursts. Redric rolled onto his feet, standing awkwardly. I had not taken all the pain from him, not wanting the Dame to be suspicious, and he swayed on his feet as he towered over me.
I glanced up at him as I stayed curled on the ground, my body shaking. His jaw ticked. His fingers twitched.
Then he turned and picked up his bag.
Breathing out shakily, I closed my eyes briefly. I didn’t know what I’d expected. A small gesture of kindness was not going to override his hatred for me. Just like nothing Richard could do would make me forgive him.
Was that why I’d helped Redric just now?
A subconscious wish that Richard would try to make up for his sins so that I could finally start to heal?
Shaking my head, I climbed to my feet. Nah, I was just feeling sappy after having seen Richard and Jace. Sappy and lonely and pathetic.
“It’s not pathetic to feel the need to apologise,” Aurelia said, completely ignoring the fact that apologising was the gateway drug to giving a shit. And giving a shit was the gateway drug to making stupid mistakes that got you killed.
“You’ve already died.”
“No one likes Technically-Correct Guy, Aurelia.”
But okay, fine. I didn’t like that Redric hated me like I hated Richard. One, I hadn’t killed someone he’d loved, so the rage he was feeling was completely disproportionate. Two, he’d tried to kill me first when I’d just been a kid. And three –
“You like him,” Aurelia cut in.
“I don’t know him.”
“You like that he managed to kill you because you’re a psycho, and that turned you on.”
She had a point, but to hel if I was going to admit it. I’d had enough feelings for the day. I needed to be on my A-game. I had Ashema to find. Raza to save. Too many jobs to be doing to be twisted up over being comparing to King Morningstar.
Grabbing my bag up off the dirt, I looked around me. We were in a meadow with small bright colourful flowers crawling across the ground. A fallen log patched with red moss sat at the end of a dirt-compact walkway. Windows and doors were carved into the log, and I assumed that was where we’d all be staying for the next few days.
The Dame stood in front of us, her eyes on me as I rolled my shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. First time travelling that way,” I lied.
The air buzzed with magic a second before another couple landed, both of them curled up on the ground. The male climbed to his feet and offered the woman his hand. They smiled at each other, their radiating miens making me want to roll my eyes.
Love like that wasn’t real. So they were probably spies or assassins on a mission to infiltrate this place just like I was. Except unlike me, they had found a partner who was not sickened by their touch.
But gods, were they piling it on too thick. Someone needed to enrol them back into an acting class.
Another second and two more people arrived, both of them standing on their feet. Dressed in a crisp black suit with silver accents and a half cape, the woman held herself regally. The man beside her looked a little green, but that didn’t subtract from the dangerous aura he radiated. With thick muscles, a fully shaved head, and hundreds of tally marks covering his bare arms, he looked like he killed people for breakfast.
My gaze lingered on the woman, trying to decide if she was Ashema. Dark-red hair flowed across her shoulders. Silver piercings cut across her nose and brows. A high collar hid much of her neck, but there was the flash of a dark-purple bruise poking out above it.
She was my favourite candidate so far, the power with which she held herself that of a mafia queen. Her eyes, a dark maroon that matched Redric’s hair, met mine.
The air shivered between us, rippling like a heat wave as someone else was pulled through. Four someones, to be more accurate – a woman and three muscular men.
Envy hit me at the sight of them. The tension between two of the men was cut with a daggered stare from the third. Jaws tight, the two focused on their girl. Then they softened as she smiled up at them, and they helped her to her feet. Brushing down her pale-pink dress, she turned to the Dame, the men all touching her. The two who hated each other held a hand each. The third wrapped his arms around her from the back and kissed her shoulder.
“It is a pleasure to have you all here,” the Dame said, her smile radiant in the early morning light. “Together, we will strengthen your relationships and rebuild the love you have for each other.” Her eyes shifted to Redric, then me, softening with a genuine urge to help. “Or create the foundations where it has yet to shine.”
Redric stiffened beside me, so I grabbed his hand and squeezed, urging him to relax. If any one of these people caught wind that he was acting (and very poorly), we’d both be dead.
He didn’t look at me, but the tightness of his shoulders eased a bit and he didn’t pull away. For now, I’d have to count that as a win. Later, in the privacy of our room, I’d have to have another chat with him.
Feeling someone’s eyes on me, I glanced right. The woman with the red hair was staring at me. I smiled at her, wondering if this was Cunt Face in a new body, or if Cunt Face had just been her daughter or perhaps the Underboss. She did not smile back.
“If you’ll hand your bags over to Erin, here,” the Dame said as the man who had sent Redric and I here suddenly appeared on his feet beside her, making me wonder if he had been scrying on us. That had been way too smooth to be a timely coincidence.
“He will take them to your rooms while I show you around the resort.”
After drawing another sending circle, Erin stepped forward as Green Mohawk and her lovey-dovey partner handed their luggage over without hesitation. They had clearly been here before and would be the best source of information about the place. They were also the only ones without any tight tension radiating between them, which clearly marked them as spies. Whether they were working for the Dame to keep an eye on us or whether they were simply someone else trying to sneak in, I didn’t yet know.
Or perhaps they were the side characters who died in order to get us all to finally work together and overcome our differences.
“This is a therapy retreat, Ev. Not an action movie.”
“It’s a therapy retreat for the mafia. I reckon that isn’t outside the realm of possibilities.”
Aurelia rolled her eyes, but I knew she secretly agreed.
Slinging my bag off my shoulder, I offered it up to Erin. The alternative IDs and large sums of cash I had in there wouldn’t cause too much suspicion; getaway bags were a peb a dozen in the underground. I would ditch them as soon as we left this place; those were only a handful of identities I had access to, so no trouble loss.
Redric tossed his bag over, clearly not attached to any of the things I and ‘his’ kids had packed for him. That, or he just wasn’t attached to anything he’d brought into Raza.
Once all the bags were piled onto Packhorse Erin, he stepped into his circle and disappeared.
“Now that we’re all a bit lighter, let’s begin the tour, shall we?” The Dame turned on her heels and led us down the dirt path towards the log building. As we followed, I glanced at the others, forming files in my head.
Redhead walked regally beside Skull Face. Neither of them touched, their hands on their sides, their fingers loose and ready to fight. They hadn’t relaxed yet, still stiff with awareness about potential attacks. They were used to being ambushed, their eyes skittering back and forth as they swept their gazes everywhere, looking for any threat.
If she was the infamous Ashema, finding an opening to kill her, should our negotiations fail, was going to be a bitch.
Turning my gaze before she caught me staring at her, I focused on the other couple. Seeing them holding hands and kissing each other, I gagged and looked away. Maybe they were here so we could all kill them together.
Please let it be so.
We entered the log building, stepping into a large hall with abstract blue-and-purple paintings hanging on the walls, nicely contrasted against the warm yellow paint. Light-blue sofas and dark-brown coffee tables decorated the place, and in the centre was a large curved desk with the word ‘Reception’ burned into its front. A man stood behind it, smiling warmly as we all approached.
“This is Lucas, and he will help you with whatever you need while here. However, he will not do any shopping. All you’re allowed to have during this weekend is what your partners packed for you.” Her gaze swept around us before lingering on the Lovey Dovey couple, and a wry smile curved her lips. Whatever they’d brought last time had clearly been naughty.
I turned to look at them. Green Mohawk had a deep blush and her partner looked smug as shit.
She had definitely packed all the naughty and nothing else.
The mystery was why. Why would two spies come here over and over? Were they just trying to establish a presence here so the staff would be more lax around them, used to and trusting of them, before they struck? Did they know their target occasionally came here but didn’t know when, and so they just signed up for every retreat until they found them?
I would have to keep my eye on these two. They were planning something; I just knew it, and I didn’t want their plan to fuck with mine.
“Everywhere in this building,” the Dame continued, “other than your rooms, is accessible by anyone at every hour. Each room is soundproofed so you won’t need to worry about waking anyone. There are scry mirrors in all communal areas for us to keep an eye on your safety.”
As she led us towards the right-hand hall, Lucas sat down behind his desk and started shuffling paperwork. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor. In the hall, arched windows let in golden rays of light on one side, streaking across more paintings of abstract art on the other. A sharp turn left had us entering a corridor with three doors on each side, one labelled with a plaque.
On the left: ‘Elana and Redric’ and ‘Shaina and Chris’.
On the right: ‘Jessica, Joshua, Lynton, and Noah’ and ‘Ashema and Remi’.
My heart sped up as I tried not to let my eyes linger on Ashema’s door. Instead, I focused on the Dame as she stopped between the four of them and turned towards us. “I will leave you to unpack. Feel free to wander around before lunch, but I must ask you all to stay inside. We are finishing some last minute details for tomorrow’s bonding event.”
When we all nodded, she smiled. “You will each find a welcome packet in your room, detailing the schedule for the weekend.” And with that, she headed back the way we’d come, her heels clicking across the floor.
No sooner had she turned the corner than the Lovey Dovey couple headed for the room marked ‘Ashema and Remi’. My eyes widened slightly, but I didn’t allow my gaze to linger. Turning, I pulled Redric through our door and shut it quickly behind us.
He yanked his hand out of mine, then wiped it on his thigh. “I need a shower.”
Storming through the sparse living room, which was decorated with just a small coffee table and a white lover seat, he entered the open double doors leading into the bedroom. A double bed, much smaller than it needed to be in the wide space, was nestled between two bedside tables. Blue luminescent moss filled a sphere terrarium on each, a folded black cloth beside them for nighttime.
Our bags sat in front of the bed, and Redric snapped his up, then stormed towards the door to the left. He opened it, found a closet, shut it, then wheeled around.
Having scanned the space completely in this time, I hiked a thumb across the living room, pointing to the open door of the bathroom.
Without even a thank-you, he went inside. I didn’t bother telling him I was coming in for a chat in a minute or two after I checked out the schedule. That would only make him lock the door, and I didn’t trust these rooms to be fully private. Although I didn’t see any scry mirrors, I wouldn’t put it past the Dame to have a witch watching us through more powerful magic. I didn’t sense any in the air, but this body was free of the runes that would help me pick up on magic being used.
A therapy retreat or not, it was in business with the mafia, and only an idiot wouldn’t get as much blackmail as they could in case things ever went sideways.
Crossing the room as the shower turned on, I picked up the welcome pack on the table. The first page showed the schedule, colour-coded. Private time was blue. Therapy sessions were pastel pink (solo), green (couplings), and yellow (group). We had private time until lunch at one, then we’d each have a private coupling session with the Dame afterwards. Tea was at seven. Private time until the morning, where breakfast was at nine.
That gave me plenty of time to scout the entirety of the retreat, looking for places where I could corner Ashema without being caught. For although I hadn’t seen any guards on our walk up, I didn’t doubt they were around. This place was one of the most secure places in Raza. Most of FI-9’s safe houses and headquarters weren’t as tight as this.
The welcome packet didn’t go into details about what the group sessions would be about, just listed them as ‘bonding exercises’. On day three, that session lasted a full day. Given we were in the wilderness, away from any of our trees of civilization, I wondered if she was going to drop us off somewhere and have us work our way back with scarce rations.
“No… She wouldn’t do that,” Aurelia said. “It’s yondu mating season.”
We would most definitely get fucked to death, literally, if that was the case. Yondus were feral beasts that didn’t care if you were also a yondu. If you had a hole, they’d find a way to fill it. If you didn’t have a hole, they would make one.
Shivering, I flipped the page to scan the rest of the welcome packet. This was a parlay site. Anyone breaking that rule would be, ironically, killed. All therapy sessions were mandatory. Missing one would get you kicked out. All weapons in the gym and armoury had been spelled to not hurt those here just in case one of us forgot this was a parlay site.
Dammit.
None of us had been frisked for weapons yet, but I was certain they were all useless against each other now too.
The next page confirmed it. The transporting spell had also made all of our weapons ‘therapy-friendly’.
It was a nice way to let us stay armed in case the resort was discovered and attacked but without tempting us to kill each other. I was certain I wasn’t the only one here who wanted a piece of Ashema. One of the harem men had stilled when he’d seen the sign, and the other couple looked like assassins. Ashema’s collective bounties were almost as big as mine.
Not quite though. Mine were bigger. I made sure of it by deliberately pissing people off if she started getting close.
The next page made me groan as I read it, and I immediately threw down the packet onto the coffee table afterwards and stood. Ugh. Homework. She’d given us fucking homework on day one.
We both had to fill out why we wanted to be married to each other. She’d attached two envelopes; neither of us could look at the other’s before they were sealed and collected at lunchtime.
“Technically, that was homework from yesterday.”
“No one likes Technically Correct Guy!” I screamed inside my head even though it stayed at the same volume as all my other thoughts. Ugh. I’d totally forgotten about this in all the hectic flying of yesterday.
Muttering under my breath, I headed for the bathroom to remind Redric. I opened the door without a sound, not wanting to risk him turning, seeing me, and then yelling at me to get out while some witch somewhere reported back to the Dame on what she’d seen.
A glass cubicle stretched the entirety of the back wall, the toilet and sink between us on one side, a cupboard for (presumingly) towels and toiletries on the other. Redric faced away from me, his face lifted towards the spray. Steam curled around his tight bare buttocks, and my eyes dipped as I closed the door gently behind me.
My pulse thundered between my ears with the fast rhythm of the shower, and I swallowed as the heat of the room caressed my cheeks.
The memory of the back alley of the restaurant hit me with a force that left my knees weak. I had entered purely for business, but now…
My gaze ran down his thick thighs, then flowed up to take in every delicious valley of his back. The muscles bunched and moved with a dancer’s grace as he scrubbed his hair beneath the spray. I wanted to run my fingers through it. I wanted him to finally fuck me hard enough to let me come.
But what I needed to do was have a quick conversation and then scope out the building before lunch. He would need to come with me so it didn’t look too obvious that I was running recon. I doubted the Dame would be pleased if I spent the majority of my time here away from the husband I was supposed to be wanting to fix things with.
Stripping out of my clothes, I then crossed the white tile floors with soundless steps. I opened the shower door, and Redric spun at the sudden change in temperature, the colder air of the room invading his steamy cubicle along with me.
“Get out,” he hissed. I’m sure his eyes were glaring at me, but mine had dipped to his cock. It was soft but rising quickly.
“Don’t think you want me to.” I grinned when it jerked under my gaze. Then rolled my eyes when he lifted a hand to shove me out. Grabbing his hand, I pinned it against my breast.
“Someone could be scrying on us,” I murmured.
“In the bathroom?” The disbelief was clear in his tone. “That’s illegal.”
I stared at him dryly. “Yes. The mafia really cares about that.”
His cheeks flushed red beneath the rolling droplets of water cascading out of the shower head. “Fine. But don’t touch me.”
He turned to face the other way, only to immediately pivot back. My eyes had lowered to look at his ass, and he caught me now staring at his cock. “Why are you even in here?” he demanded.
“Hmm?” I blinked, then lifted my gaze. “Oh yeah. The Dame wants us to write our answers to that question yesterday, then seal it in envelopes. We can’t look at each other’s answers, but there’s nothing to say we can’t discuss what we write first.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s highly implied.”
“Do you want to win or not? Ashema and Remi are clearly her favourites, and they’ve been here before. We need to come up with a damn good answer or we’ll fall behind on day one.”
“You can’t win at therapy,” he said.
I waved him off. “That saying was clearly drummed up by losers.”
He stared at me.
I stared at him even though I really wanted to look down again. After five years of my pussy hibernating, it was really wanting to eat a lot of dick.
“So what are you going to write?” I asked. “You said you had a better idea than ‘can’t keep our hands off each other’.”
Lifting a hand, I cupped my breast. His eyes dropped down and lingered. I trailed my fingers as I massaged myself, my lips parting as I watched him watching me. Watched the hunger in his eyes darken as he warred with the need to grab me and the desire to shove me away, his hate fighting his lust.
Grabbing my wrist, he yanked my hand away, then stepped in, crowding me against the shower wall. His body pressed against mine, the heat of him contrasting against the cold glass. I shivered at being caught between the two temperatures, then for a different reason entirely as he pushed his cock between my thighs. Not in, just cruelly between.
“Because you make me feel more strongly than anyone else.”
My breath caught. His head dipped to my neck as his hips pulled back. His tongue swept across my skin as he thrust back in.
My head fell against the shower wall as I grabbed his ass with my free hand, holding him to me. He pulled away, then pushed back in between my thighs, but he couldn’t go ‘in’ all the way, the end of his dick hitting the glass behind me.
“Because as infuriating as you are,” he said, his lips trailing down to my left breast, “you also make me want to linger in your presence. You have an aura about you that calls to me… That makes me feel like we could have something good.”
Sweeping his tongue past my nipple, not touching it, he then lifted his head. A cocky-ass grin spread across his lips, his eyes shining with pride. “That’s a fucking good answer, isn’t it?”
Fuck.
I blinked.
“Yeah,” I breathed. “Real good. Convincing.” I nodded, trying to ignore the rapid pulse of my heart as it beat out: You’re a fucking fool.
But then a grin took root as I realised if I fell for it, the Dame was definitely going to too. As long as I came up with something equally as good, we were going to kick the shit out of Ashema and Remi’s score.
Oh yeah, we’re going to win at this therapy shit!