Chapter 39 Aurora #2
This time, it’s Louie who loses her patience, storms over to us, and punches Iain in the face.
“Oi! Don’t fucking touch her, you miserable asshole!” Louie yells, just before she hisses in pain and roughly rubs her fist. “Fuck! Is your head made of concrete or something?”
Ezra’s shadows ripple with slow approval. For once, they don’t bristle at Louie. They just … nod, in their own weird, inky, wiggly way.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” Iain purrs, touching his cheek where a drop of blood beads to the surface while a devious smile plays on his lips.
“The little hell-pup in human form. Look at you, wee hound. Those fangs are really doing something for me.”
“What is it with you old bastards callin’ me puppy?” Louie shakes out her bruised knuckles and suddenly crowds into his space, chin tilted up at the wrakh, her smile razor-sharp.
“And Iain?”
“Yes, darling hound?” Iain says, his voice oddly hopeful.
“Get. Fucked.”
Louie spits at his feet, flips him the finger, and then storms back to the car. She jams her headphones on and cranks the volume so loud I half expect blood to pour from her ears.
“Ah, shite,” Iain mutters, still staring after Louie like she’s a bar fight he wants to marry. “Fucked that up, didn’t I?”
Ezra and I exchange a confused look, stunned by the interaction between the wrakh and the hellhound.
The eddies, however, are thriving. A few slither up my arms, gossipy little shits clearly dying to spill the tea. One even taps Ezra’s collar in full “Did you see that shit?” mode.
Ezra takes a deep breath, wraps a protective arm around my waist, then clears his throat.
One of his shadows lingers near Iain’s feet, curling and uncurling, clearly debating if tripping him would be worth it.
“Iain, as much as I enjoyed watching you get decked by a five-foot-nothing hellhound who weighs ninety pounds soaking wet, we have more pressing matters.”
This is quickly turning into the shitshow we expected.
At least Ezra’s trying to wrangle the circus.
Iain rubs his cheek, gaze fixed on the car, wearing the look of a man desperate to get his ass beat by a miniature human hellhound.
“Yeah, alright. So, you two fucked. She got her powers but can’t control them, or even use them. Is that right? And why’s she here, too? I thought the hellhound would have returned to her canine form by now,” Iain grumbles.
“It seems Louie’s memories and magic are a little muddled after being under the forgetfulness spell for so long,” Ezra says. “We were hoping you could help her, too.”
Ezra sounds hesitant, and for a moment, I’m confused by his tone. But then I remember Iain’s hands on me and realize he’ll have to do the same with Lou.
I burst into laughter, which causes the two brooding monsters to stare at me like I’ve finally snapped. And honestly, that’s not feeling too far from the truth right now.
“Oh, sorry,” I say, wiping a tear from my eye. “It’s just, Louie’s going to hate having your hands on her, Iain. No offense.”
I snort, and Ezra chuckles at my side.
Naturally, the good-natured teasing immediately turns Iain’s mood sour.
“With all due respect, little blackbird, you can both go fuck yourselves.”
Iain’s face darkens. “I don’t need this shite, and I certainly don’t need a fuckin’ hellhound digging around in my skull!”
His muscular body ripples with frustration. From across the driveway, Louie eyes him with pure lust while pretending to scroll through her playlist.
I step forward and put a hand on the warrior wrakh’s shoulder.
“I apologize, Iain. It wasn’t my place to say anything. Will you please help us? Help me? Ezra has some news you might be interested in, and I need to be able to protect myself. I know you and Ezra aren’t close. But I thought you and I were at least friendly.”
The air shifts, carrying the warm, sugary scent of kettle corn. For a moment, I’m back beneath festival tents and buzzing string lights, fryers crackling with funnel cake and the ghost of a first kiss on my lips.
My magic wants to be used. And for once, I don’t fight it.
“You better stop usin’ that magic on me, little blackbird. Fuck, you might be better at this than you think,” Iain says, giving his head a rough shake, trying to knock the spell loose.
“Right, well, come inside then. Let’s see what we’ve got brewin’ in you, queenie. But first, I wanna work on that sweet little thing sittin’ in your car,” he growls.
“And Ezra, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with your shadows but leash those nosey little bastards before stepping foot in my house. Bleedin’ thread magic,” Iain grumbles, turning on his heels and marching toward his house.
The eddies go still, insulted to their inky little cores.
Eddy #2 flickers at the edge of Ezra’s jaw, feigning innocence.
Eddy #10, the vibe-checker, slithers along his knuckles, calculating just how hard Ezra could punch Iain.
And eddy #6—the one we should probably muzzle—takes its sweet time forming the unmistakable shape of a middle finger before sinking back into Ezra’s skin like smoke.
Yes, I’ve identified ten distinct personalities. No, I don’t need help. Unless it’s to rank them by murder potential and sexual prowess—which, if I’m honest, operate on the same scale.
“I’ll be waitin’, wee hound,” Iain calls over his shoulder to Louie, who is furiously pretending to ignore him.
Ezra takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and the eddies sink into his skin.
Well, most of them.
A single tendril lashes out at the last second, petulant as hell, before Ezra yanks it back with a sharp breath.
It’s the emotional equivalent of a parent dragging a screaming child out of Target.
So, he can control them. Good to know.
I’ll file that away for later.
Right now, I’ve got bigger questions.
He shudders, then grabs my hand and brushes my knuckles with his lips.
“Are you well, Aurora?” he asks with a smirk.
“All is well, Ezra. You saw that too, right? It wasn’t just me?” I whisper as we walk toward the front door.
Louie follows at a distance, growling and mumbling about the “pompous, piece of shit wrakh.”
Ezra laughs softly, the sound soaked in wicked delight. “Yes, darling, I noticed the eye-fucking. A wrakh and a hellhound. That kind of chemistry levels cities.”
He leans in just a little. “Can you imagine the destruction? Walls cracking. Floors breaking. Her claws in his chest while he begs for more.”
He smirks, utterly pleased with himself. “I do hope it happens. They deserve that kind of violence.”
Ezra’s observation makes me giggle as we walk through the front door.
Iain’s house is stuffy, cluttered, and smoky from the incense that seems to burn everywhere.
There’s music playing softly over invisible speakers, and I smile when I recognize “T.B.D.” by Live.
This song is sexy as hell—a slow burn to explosion, drowned in a crescendo of shadow and sound.
You can almost feel it—hips pinned, breath stolen, heat ghosting your throat, the moment straining at the edge, begging for the drop.
Say what you want about Iain, but the asshole has impeccable taste in music.
“You’re smiling, Aurora. What am I missing?” Ezra asks while we step over piles of porn and Highlights.
Yes, the magazine for kids. There are no words.
“Throwing Copper is a phenomenal album,” I say to a very confused Ezra.
“That’s fucking right, little blackbird,” Iain boasts.
He stands at the end of the foyer with his arms crossed, blocking our way to the kitchen.
“May we come in? Or is this yet another juvenile test of dominance?” Ezra asks in a bored tone.
Iain’s gaze shifts to the space behind us with a wicked smile.
“You two can wait right here. I’ll work with the wee hound. Alone.”
Iain crosses his arms, his muscles rippling under the slightly too small light blue Care Bears T-shirt.
Ezra’s shadows ripple too, but not out of admiration. Eddy the fifth, who could win an Oscar for dramatic overreaction, slinks over his shoulder and flicks toward Iain’s shirt.
Apparently, even sentient inkblots have aesthetic limits.
Louie stares, slack-jawed, until I elbow her.
“What? Fuck that. Aurora needs this more than I do. She should be first. Plus, I don’t trust you, wrakh.”
“I’d feel more comfortable if I could be with Louie. Maybe I could learn—”
“Sorry, queenie. My magic, my rules. You want help? The hellhound works with me alone. It’s either that, or you can find some other fool to help you.”
I look at Ezra, who has his lips drawn in a tight line. It’s clear he doesn’t trust anyone else with this.
I turn to Louie, who looks like she’s contemplating the best way to remove the wrakh’s vital organs using the most painful method possible.
“It’s up to you, Lou. I totally understand if you’re not comfortable. We can figure something else out.”
The hellhound’s face softens when her gaze flicks to me.
There’s something in her eyes. Something resigned.
Louie huffs then roughly pushes Ezra and me out of the way.
“Let’s go, you bald motherfucker. The sooner you turn your little trick, the sooner I can get the fuck out of your orbit. My only concern is protecting Aurora. I’d rather eat glass than sit in the same room as you, but I obviously don’t have much of a choice if I want to keep her safe.”
When my gaze shifts to Iain, I have to stifle a giggle.
His head tilts to the side when Louie walks past him, very purposely shoving him with her shoulder. With a snort of amusement and a smug smile, Iain turns on his heels and follows behind Lou, leaving Ezra and me alone in the cramped foyer.
Ezra exhales through his nose, and his shadows flicker out for just a moment before slithering back under his skin, twitching with barely-leashed irritation.
“Well, I guess we’ll have to entertain ourselves for a little while,” I grumble, more annoyed than I probably should be.
“Also, seriously. What the fuck is in the well?”