32. Syrus
Syrus
The Rancorite militia fall back quickly from the border after I show them Kaliban’s head.
The last thing that domain needed was another leadership battle so soon after the last one, but unfortunately for Kaliban, he went and threatened the few people I’d risk everything for.
He had to die after that, even before taking into account his other crimes.
Still, with the lake theft and attempted invasion, his other crimes are pretty extensive, so at least that puts me in a good position to explain to the remaining lords of Infernum why my actions were necessary.
“We need to send the message out to Vyle and Baine now,” I say to Viz when we’re back at the castle in Malice, assessing where we stand. “I don’t want them hearing the details from anyone else first. And we’ll invite them to attend an emergency meeting here tomorrow.”
“Or perhaps on more neutral territory?” Viz proposes. “If you go to them, it may seem less threatening.”
I lean back in my office chair, contemplating this. “Yes, good idea. The further away we keep them from Leah, the better.”
“Who are we keeping away from me?” Leah asks from the doorway.
I stand, instantly gravitating toward her.
I slide a hand against her cheek, and she leans into my touch, briefly closing her eyes like this contact sustains her as much as it does me.
I don’t see how that could be though, not when just the thought of her trapped in Kaliban’s fortress had me turning myself inside out with anger and fear.
She can’t need this as much as I do. It’s just not possible.
“How is Aster doing?” I ask. We had her taken to a healer immediately after we left Rancor, but I haven’t had a chance to check in with her since.
“Okay,” Leah says, pulling a face. “The healer said she’d only need to wear her sling for a few weeks, but she’s still complaining about not being able to go dancing.”
“Knowing Aster, she’ll find a way, sling or no sling,” I smile.
“What were you talking about?” she asks, and I see she won’t be deterred.
“I don’t want the lords knowing you had any part in Kaliban’s death,” I say gently. “It only risks making them interested in you, and we saw how that went with the Lord of Rancor.”
She frowns. “I’m a liability to you,” she says.
“Not at all,” I reply, bending to brush my lips softly against hers. I can hear Viz clearing his throat lightly behind me. I think he’s allergic to public displays of affection. Up to now, that hasn’t been an issue while working for me. But now…well…
He can get used to it.
“I am,” she says. “Having a human living with you invited enough attention, but I can’t imagine everyone will be okay with you being bound to a nephi—”
She stops herself, glancing at Viz.
“Oh, I know about your heritage,” Viz says, waving a quill without looking up. “How else would you have blasted the Lord of Rancor into the eternal darkness?”
I throw Viz an exasperated glare. Tact has never been his strong suit, but that was bad, even for him. “Why don’t we go somewhere we won’t be disturbing Vizmodeus?” I say, guiding her out of the room.
“You’re right that your heritage can’t become common knowledge in Infernum,” I say, keeping my voice low as we walk down the corridors to my private parlor.
“But as long as you don’t use your powers, no one will be able to tell.
I’ll say that I alone fought Kaliban, so the other lords will have no reason to ask questions about you. ”
I’ve been planning how to handle this for a while now.
Hathwell confirmed it, but I’ve suspected for weeks and just didn’t want to give voice to it—to name the thing I was so afraid might be true.
But Leah’s blood doesn’t change anything.
And even if it did, I’m not willing to give her up. There’s always a way around things.
A large, dark shape pads out of the shadows toward us.
“Triya,” Leah tuts. “You should be resting.”
She crouches to hold her arms out to the huge beast, who walks into them with a chorus of low, rumbling purrs. Leah kisses each of the heads between their eyes, being extra gentle with the third, which has half its face wrapped in a bandage.
“I feel so guilty she got hurt trying to protect me,” she sighs, stroking her hands through Triya’s thick fur.
“I know she was glad to do it,” I say. There was once a time when I was amazed at how quickly Triya took to Leah. Now I know the animal just has impeccable instincts. “And hellcats heal quickly. Although unfortunately, I think they draw the line at being able to grow back eyes.”
Triya clearly decides she’s done with this conversation and ducks out of Leah’s arms to continue padding along the corridor, likely heading out to hunt.
“At least she has five other eyes,” Leah says, standing to watch the animal go. “That’s got to help balance things out a bit.”
She settles into one of the soft, sagging armchairs with a sigh when we reach the parlor. We’ve all been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours, and still, I don’t want to rest until I’ve spent a little more time with her, making sure she’s okay.
“I didn’t get a chance to say how proud of you I was with Hathwell—and with everything you did after that,” I say, watching her from the fireplace. “Even if I would’ve preferred you hadn’t been quite so resourceful at getting back to Infernum on your own,” I smile.
“But then you might never have found out Kaliban had the lake water,” she protests.
“That’s true. Part of my meeting tomorrow will involve working out how we negotiate sending the Malicite keepers into Rancor to get it back.”
“That’s good,” she says. “By the way, you owe a soul snare some special treatment when the Morphos is up and running again.”
“Noted,” I say, raising an eyebrow.
“I’ve been thinking about my mother,” she says, and I sit down in the armchair opposite, wanting to show her I’m ready to listen.
“I don’t know which of her parents she got the ephilium blood from.
My grandmother was a midwife, so maybe my mother was never biologically theirs to begin with.
Does that happen?” she asks. “Do ephilium give up nephilim children for adoption? They’re so rare—we’re so rare, I suppose I should say—I don’t know much about it. ”
I consider my words carefully before responding. “My understanding of it is that it functions much the same as incubi. That’s when—”
“A child is born with mixed human and demon blood,” she finishes. “I know. There’s lots of horror stories about them in Strata.”
“Right,” I say, taking a moment to absorb that unpleasant fact before moving on. “When a nephilim or an incubus is born, they are usually claimed by the supernatural realms and raised there rather than in Strata.”
“The human parent doesn’t get a say?” Leah gapes.
“I know, it’s not fair. But Strata law prefers it that way and probably most humans do too. They’re not great with accepting those who are different, and most mixed-blood children won’t grow into their supernatural traits if not raised around ephilium or demons.”
“I’m just wondering why my power started showing up now,” she says. “Do you think it’s because of the ephilium blood you’ve been giving me? Maybe it woke something up in my body?”
“It’s certainly possible,” I say, rising to go to her.
“We’d have to get Viz to look into it.” I put my hands on either side of her armchair and lean down until our lips are almost touching.
She closes the distance between us, her mouth parting needily as it meets mine, and I slip my tongue over hers, pulling another sigh from her.
This one is much more delicious than the tired noise she made before.
“I won’t let this create problems for us,” I say when we break apart. “There’s no reason why you can’t stay here with me.”
Her eyes widen. “Is that what you want?” she asks quietly.
I bend my face to hers again, finding it easier to speak the words when I’m murmuring them against her lips.
“It’s what I need,” I say. “You’ve unlocked something in me, Leah.
I was sleepwalking through things before, but you’ve woken me up.
It’s not that I hated being a demon, or Malice, but I resented them for everything they represented.
All the things I couldn’t have. Until you…
you made me think maybe I could have something for myself—and that made me see life in Infernum differently.
Everything looks different through your eyes. ”
I don’t meet her gaze, unsure how she’ll react, not knowing if this will be too much for her. But when she pulls me down on top of her to kiss each of the runes on my scarred face, I have my wonderful, perfect answer.
I slide my hand into her hair, tilting her head so her lips meet mine, and our kisses soon take on a hungrier note.
It’s only been hours since I was wrenched from her in Strata, but it still feels like too much time apart—too long since I was as close to her as I could possibly be, mind against mind and body against body.
From the way she presses into me, lifting her hips to meet mine, she feels the same. The thought fills me with a fire that warms me—burns me—from the inside out.
“Syrus,” she breathes against me, making me feel lightheaded. “I need you too.”
I don’t know which is more consuming, wanting her so intensely or feeling so wanted in turn. Not feared and bowed to as a king or a lord, but desired and yearned for as a man.
“You have me,” I reply, my hands exploring her waist, then slipping over the curve of her thighs.
But Leah apparently has other ideas. She grabs onto my biceps and pushes herself up, flipping our positions so she’s shoving me down into the chair instead. I go happily, laughing at how eagerly she wedges herself between my legs and starts to unbutton my shirt.
That laughter quickly turns to a hum of arousal as her thigh presses against my erection and she pulls my shirt open.