Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Roxy
Like hell was I going to cower under this tree and leave Lothar to fight alone, not even for two minutes. In two minutes, I’d once slaughtered eight rebel demons I’d found munching on humans, and had time to clean off my blades. He’d lost his damned mind if he thought I was waiting.
Sliding my knives free, I followed him.
He’d fully shifted, and the huge hound tore at the swamp creature.
Still, it was almost twice his size. With a battle cry, I ran and jumped, landing on its slimy back, and stabbed and hacked at it.
It shrieked, black sludge oozing from the tears Lothar had made with his fangs and claws and the deep cuts I’d made with my knives.
It jerked from side to side, then reached back, digging its claws into my shoulder and tore me from its back. I was tossed with such force that I was airborne for several seconds, stopped only by the huge tree I slammed into. I dropped, hitting the ground hard enough to rattle my freaking bones.
Shaking it off, I bounded to my feet and sprinted back.
The slimy beast swiped its claws across Lothar’s skin again and again, leaving his fur matted with blood.
With a scream of rage, I leaped up, using my blades in its flesh like ice picks, then, gripping its thick head, I buried my blade into the opposite side of its throat and cried out as I dragged it across with all my strength, slicing its throat open.
Its roars and shrieks turned to gurgles before it finally stumbled to the side and went down, taking me with it. We hit the ground hard, and its dead weight pinned my legs beneath it.
Lothar shifted with a hiss and stood over me, naked and teeth bared. He was covered in blood and mud, and his chest heaved with his panted breaths.
“A little help?”
He cursed viciously, then shoved his shoulder into the dead bog monster, pushing it off long enough for me to roll out from under it. Yanking my blades free of its rancid flesh, I jumped to my feet. “Thanks.”
His face contorted. “I told you to wait.”
I wiped my blades across my thighs and slid them back in their sheaths. “No, you held up two fingers.”
“Which meant”—he pointed at me—“you wait.”
“You point at me again, I’ll cut that finger off and add it to my collection from other males who’ve tried to pull that shit with me. And in case that isn’t clear enough, I don’t follow orders from you.”
He growled, his fangs still extended. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”
“The only one of us who could have been killed is you. If I hadn’t followed, that giant bog monster would have shredded you. As it is, your back is sliced to shit and we’re going to have to clean out those wounds before infection sets in.”
“I had things under control. I protect you, it’s my job to—”
“I am not your job, or yours to protect,” I bit out, pain and anger resurfacing again.
It never truly left, even when I tried to tell myself I had control over my emotions.
I felt bad for him, I did, hounds protected, that’s who they were.
But I didn’t need that from him, and he knew that, of course he did, and no matter how hard it was for him to see me fight, that was who I was.
Getting in my way all the time was just making things harder for both of us.
“I’m older than you, Lothar. I have fought in more battles, have more kills, and possess skills you could only fucking dream of.
Do not try to play the protector with me again.
I’m not a helpless female. You pull that shit again, you won’t like what happens. We clear?”
His beast was rolling under his skin, his body moving in an odd way.
He was fighting the shift. His lips curled back, and his chest vibrated again.
“Yeah, we’re clear.” The gold of his eyes shifted to red.
“What about before the fighting? Can I pull that shit again, Rox?” he said, a rumbling purr in his voice.
I sucked in a sharp breath and my anger shot higher.
“You kiss me again, I’ll cut out your fucking tongue,” I fired at him and started walking.
I could not think about what happened under that tree—how right it felt, how wonderful it was to be close to him like that, to have his arms around me.
It couldn’t happen again. I couldn’t let it.
He strode up beside me, still naked. “You didn’t seem to have any complaints when it was happening.”
His voice had gone impossibly deep. I forced myself to glance at him. “I was curious.”
“And?”
“Once was enough.”
He scowled. “Bullshit.”
What the fuck was happening? Even more concerning, what did Lothar think was happening?
No, he had no memory of our past, but he was clearly feeling a certain type of way toward me, and that was much more dangerous than just me pining after him, stuck for centuries in this agonizing cycle of unrequited love and unbearable pain and anger.
I was strong, I could take it, I had been taking it for a long fucking time, but I wasn’t sure how long I could resist him, especially if he decided to put all his effort into getting what he wanted.
“You kissed me back, Rox, and you fucking liked it,” he muttered.
“Not enough to repeat the experience,” I lied, even as my belly swooped and heated.
“Now shut up about the damned kiss, and let’s get the hell out of here.
There’s a small village a few miles away.
We can clean up and ask around, see if anyone’s seen B.
They have an inn beside the tavern.” I glanced his way again.
“You might want to put some pants on before we get there.”
“We only have one room available,” the birdlike innkeeper said, looking down her long nose at us. Not surprising since we were both covered in mud and blood. On the plus side, we didn’t look very appetizing.
“Are you sure you don’t have another room?” I asked with a good dose of desperation in my voice.
Lothar snorted. “Afraid you can’t keep your hands to yourself?”
My face heated, because, yes, that was exactly what I was afraid of.
“Yes, I’m sure,” the innkeeper said, her answer more than a little snappish. She gave us another unhappy perusal. “We don’t want any trouble here.”
“You won’t get any trouble from us. We’re just passing through.
” I slid my phone from my pocket and pulled up a picture of Beelzebub.
“We’re actually looking for a friend of ours.
You haven’t seen him around the village, have you?
” I held up the picture of B. I’d taken it several months ago at Nixie’s birthday party.
The lords had been invited, like they were to all handmaid parties, and he’d rolled up with Asmodeus.
She leaned in, scanned the picture, shook her head, then tossed the room key on the counter like she wanted to avoid touching either of us, and again I got it. We were disgusting. “Room 13, top of the stairs, fourth door on the right.”
I thanked her, and we trudged up the stairs. Lothar was in front of me, and I winced at the sight of the gouges in his back. Most had already healed, trapping mud, rotting leaves, and whatever other filth was on that creature’s claws under his skin.
“Your back’s a mess. I’m going to have to reopen those wounds to flush them out,” I said as we reached the top of the stairs.
“You’d just love that, wouldn’t you?” he said, a smirk on his handsome face, his eyes darkening. “Getting to carve me up with one of those pointy little blades of yours.”
How the hell had he made that sound sexual?
Heat washed over me as we reached the door to our room, and I quickly pushed in front of him, giving him my back so I could unlock the door.
But then, it wasn’t what he’d said but how he’d said it.
I knew all too well how Lothar sounded when he was in the mood to get frisky.
“It’d be a dream come true,” I said deadpan as I shoved the door open.
The room was a floral explosion, or nightmare, depending on your tastes, but it smelled fresh, and I knew from my last stay here that all the rooms were kept to a high standard of cleanliness.
Studiously ignoring the chintz-covered bed overflowing with throw pillows, I dumped my bag on the luggage stand against the wall, kicked off my boots, and rummaged around for clean clothes.
“I’m taking first shower, then we’ll deal with your back.
Put our boots outside the door, would you?
They have a service for that here since this realm is a muddy cesspool. ”
He grunted, and I didn’t give him a chance to say more. I quickly hit the bathroom and locked myself in.
Clumps of mud fell out of my hair when I dipped my head under the hot spray.
I had to wash it three times to get all the crap out of it.
As much as I was enjoying the hot water and the break from Lothar, I didn’t drag it out.
I needed to see to his back. The longer we left it, the deeper I’d have to cut and the more painful it was going to be for him.
As I was drying off, I glanced up and caught sight of myself.
My skin was bruised. There was a big one on my shoulder, and when I turned, there were more across my back, and my thighs as well.
No doubt from being tossed into a tree, then pinned under that creature.
That was an hour ago, though. I should be healed by now.
My gaze dipped to my side, to my scar, and I sucked in a breath. It was pink, irritated. That was not normal.
It had taken years for the wound to heal, but it had. This morning, it had been pale, silvery—now it looked like something had aggravated it. The mud? The creature? Maybe I was having an allergic reaction of some kind to one of them?
The nerves were dead around the scar tissue, maybe the tree got me there and I didn’t notice? But if that were the case, wouldn’t it be bruised as well.
Chewing my lip, I dug my phone out of my discarded jeans and checked for any word from Lucifer.
The uneasy feeling, since I’d seen the sigil on that axe, increased.
Still nothing from Luci. I cursed and fired off another text, but with so many of us—handmaids, hounds, the lords, and high-ranking demons—his phone was always blowing up.
He tended to only reply when he had the answers we wanted.
I quickly dressed, and when I walked out, Lothar was standing at the window, his eyes closed.
“Any luck?”
He turned to me. “He definitely passed through this town.”
Excellent. We were in the right place at least.
Lothar hit the shower after that, and when he walked out, I was at the little desk by the window, sterilizing one of my blades over a candle flame. His gaze dipped to the blade, then up to me. I grinned and winked. “Time to slice and dice, big guy.”
He huffed out a rough breath and shook his head.
The clean jeans he’d put on clung to his monster thighs.
He was shirtless, and his damp wavy hair hung loose down his back.
I tried not to, but it was impossible not to eat up his thick, muscled torso and huge biceps when he rummaged in his bag and grabbed a hair tie.
My stupid mouth literally watered, watching the way his muscles moved as he gathered up his hair and knotted it messily, getting it out of the way.
“Where do you want me?” he said when he was done.
I quickly slammed my damn mouth closed, kicked the stool out from under the desk, then grabbed the ice bucket I’d acquired while he was in the shower, and went to fill it with warm water, grabbing a few towels as well.
“You done this before?” he asked when I walked back into the room.
I rolled my eyes. “Well, obviously. Like I said, I’ve fought alongside my sisters in a lot of battles, Lothar. We’re fast healers, like you hounds. Stuff like this happens a lot.” Well, I was usually a fast healer. I wasn’t sure what was going on right now. Maybe it was just this realm?
“You ever fought any angels?” he asked as he sat.
My stomach cramped instantly and a humorless laugh slipped free. “I’ve got the scars to prove it.” Why did I say that?
He froze and twisted on the stool to face me. “The one on your side? An angel did that?”
“A fallen, but yes.” Why was I telling him this? Being in close quarters with him, just the two of us forced together all the time, was making me act stupid.
Just shut the hell up, Roxy.
I poured gin that I’d found in the mini bar on my blade. It was the best I could do, but hounds weren’t prone to infection.
“So what happened—”
I sliced into his skin, and Lothar hissed. “Sorry.”
“A little warning before you cut into me would be cool, yeah?”
There were dark lines visible under his skin, the mud and other crap showing me where I needed to cut. “Brace,” I said, then continued to follow the jagged line with the tip of my blade. His body went rock solid, but he didn’t move or make a sound this time. Stubborn male.
Grabbing a towel, I dipped it in the water and ran it down the open wound, wiping away the dirt and grime, then did it again to make sure I got every trace.
It was a painful process, but it was the fastest and best way to make sure I got everything out.
Then I repeated it over and over until every trace of mud was gone.
“I’ve got some balm that Willow gave me. It’ll make sure there’s no nasties left in your skin so you should heal up without any problem.” I got it from my bag and carefully smeared it along the first slice I’d reopened.
He said nothing, sitting there patiently as I carefully smeared the powerful healing balm over his wounds.
As the minutes ticked by, I became ultra-aware of his closeness, of the sound of his slow, even breaths, of the goose bumps I could see breaking out along his shoulders with every gentle swipe of my finger.
I cleared my throat. “Okay?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
The rough throaty sound had me breaking out in goose bumps as well. I quickly smeared balm on the last slice and stepped back. “All done.”
He rolled his wide shoulders and stretched before he stood. “Thanks.”
I busied myself with cleaning everything up, and not looking at him.
“No problem. You wanna head down to the tavern, get some dinner, and ask around? Beelzebub isn’t hard to miss.
We know he passed through here now, so someone had to have seen him, and there’s no way B would pass a tavern and not go in. ”
“Sounds good.”
Loth tugged on a shirt, and we grabbed our now clean boots from outside our door and headed out.
As we walked, I refused to think about coming back to this room alone with him later, or the one and only bed we’d be sleeping in…