Chapter 26 #2
“For now, the nectar stays with me.” Tad swiveled to me. I stepped back, a growl set on my tongue. The instinct to keep it with me flashed out in an instant.
“Brexley.” Tad softened Esmeralda’s expression. “You can’t be trusted with it.”
I took another step back, like he actually daggered me.
I knew he was right, yet I still hesitated. It was mine. Part of me.
“Dear girl, don’t forget what happened tonight. Your training worked until the moment you touched it.” I didn’t forget. The death and destruction. Jethro. More moments that would haunt me forever.
“Well, maybe you should have trained me to handle it,” I sneered.
“You barely learned to handle yourself. It is not for anyone to use. You know that.” He held out his hand. “It’s unsafe with you.”
Swallowing, my attention poignantly darted to Ember and Eli.
“I won’t let them have it either.” He shook his head. “With me, it will be protected. In neutral hands.”
A full minute passed, Tad never dropping his palm, his patience with me infinite.
He was right. I couldn’t be trusted, and my need for the power, to feel it sizzle through my veins, to take over, was overpowering at times. I had no guarantee I could stop myself next time, risking killing more people I loved.
Blowing out a huge breath, I reluctantly dropped the box in his hand.
He nodded at me with appreciation. “I will watch over it. I promise.”
Shifting on my feet, the urge to reach out and snatch it back twitched in my muscles, but the images of Jethro stopped me, knowing he died because I couldn’t manage the power.
Warwick’s hands wrapped around mine, pulling me back into his frame, giving me comfort and strength. He didn’t have to say a word; he spoke with actions instead.
“I think tonight we have had enough revelations and drama. We need a good night’s sleep, and we can reconvene in the morning.” Esmeralda’s shoulders slumped a little, as if Tad’s energy was waning as well. “Have fresh minds for our plan to get into the city and destroy Istvan’s labs.”
“Yes, yes.” The owner of the place jumped up, glad the threat and tension had eased. “Let me show you all to your rooms.” He waved for us to follow.
He showed Eli and Ember the first room. Just as they stepped in, Ember turned back to me.
“You asked what having my powers meant?” she huffed, not looking thrilled I might have also them. “It means your magic has a bit of a royal fairy princess . . . and a high demon king.” She said before she shut the door on us.
I blinked, the realization of who Ember’s parents were settling in.
“Fuck.” Warwick let out a barked laugh.
“What?” I whirled to him.
“Knew it.” He peered down at me with a hungry smirk. “Sotét démonom.”
My dark demon.
A clanking noise from downstairs dragged me from sleep, my eyes burning with exhaustion the moment my lids pried open to the approaching dawn.
The reality of what happened at the circus attacked me once Warwick and I were alone. My soul was too heavy to carry more death. More guilt. But I had to . . . I was the one who caused all the suffering. I felt wretched thinking about Jethro. What he had done for me. What he had sacrificed.
And I killed him.
I took all the people and things he cared about and destroyed them, then left them there to deal with the aftermath.
“You could not have helped them.” Warwick slipped my jacket off me, his tone softer than I had ever heard.
“It doesn’t matter.” I heaved out a sob.
“I should never have put them in that situation. I should have left. It’s all my fault.
I can’t . . .” My heart felt like it was cracking in half, stealing my breath, my nails tearing at my chest like they would reveal the agony pressing down on my lungs, the disgust I felt for myself. “I-I can’t . . .”
“Then give it to me.” Warwick yanked my clawing fingers away so I’d stop hurting myself. “I will carry it for you.”
He gave me no time to oppose his offer. His mouth came down on mine, kissing me with desperate need. “Give me your heartache and grief. I want it.” His voice rumbled, and he walked me back to the bed. “Take it all out on me.”
His mouth was the solace I needed, the air I required, and the relief I craved. I took it greedily. When he stripped me naked and drove deep into me, his determination challenged my pain. Conquering. Taking. Seizing it as his.
Our bodies moved together in penance, our moans our atonement, our shadows finding reparation.
He punished and commended.
Neither hero nor villain.
We lived in the gray.
I felt my screams reverberate through the house before I passed out, my body finally forcing me to sleep. Though only a few hours later, I woke from another nightmare. Fire. Death. Screams. Jethro’s burned corpse rising from the ashes, his dark eyes finding mine. Angry. Accusing.
Warwick didn’t speak, ask questions, or try to verbally soothe me.
He showed me instead, pushing in from behind, taking me so deep and slow, letting his soul brush against mine, our shadows intertwining, seizing more of my pain, my grief, until I was shaking and crying out in another way, my mind and body giving out, letting me rest a while longer.
Until the noise downstairs jarred me awake. Another clatter from below lifted my head. Something felt off, itching at the back of my mind. The room seemed eerily quiet.
Muscular arms wrapped tighter around me, curving me into his huge frame, burying deeper into the bed, an exhaled groan vibrating against my back. “Not yet.”
“Something’s not right.” I peered around, not sure what was bothering me.
“Because we weren’t woken up by your annoying pets shoving their fingers in places they shouldn’t.”
That was it.
“Oh shit . . .” I scrambled out of his hold, leaping out of bed and grabbing my clothes as another bang twanged from under my feet. As if I had some motherly instinct, my gut told me if they weren’t here, then they were probably up to no good.
“Princess . . .” Warwick growled from the bed, gripping his erection, sliding up and down, his gaze glossy and hungry. “I wasn’t done with you.”
My breath hitched, and my pussy pulsed, not at all done with him either. I was about to climb back into bed, straddle him, and ride him until neither of us could see or think.
Smash!
Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrp!
“Fuck.”
The sound of a dish shattering and Bitzy’s voice turned me away from him. I ran out of the room and down the stairs, tugging on my shirt and pants as I went. I came to a screeching halt in the doorway of the kitchen, my mouth gaping.
Olek, seemingly oblivious or not caring, sliced dried fruits next to the pot of oats he was cooking, while the kitchen island in the middle was covered in pure chaos.
Naked chaos.
“My wee-bits are flying.” The pixie I recognized as Cal lay on the table butt-ass naked in a pile of flour, his hands swaying above him. “Do you see them? They have wings. Big hairy balls with wings.”
Chirrrrpp! Bitzy, wearing only a necklace of blackthorn berries, sat next to him, her arms up in the air like she was trying to catch something.
“Watch out, little B, my balls bite.” Cal giggled, his arms moving up and down like he was making a snow angel in the flour. “Everything feels tingly.”
“Oh gods.” I cringed, my fingers pinching my nose. It was way too early for this.
“Fishy!” Opie waved from the other side of the table, dressed in what appeared to be part of an oven mitt sewn into a onesie, his nipples and belly button cut out.
He wore a cloth napkin as a cape, and his beard was braided with rosemary, a diadem of blackthorn berries crowning his head.
He sat on a juicer like a seesaw, crushing a brownish-white object inside into a cup, getting more bits than juice.
“Are you . . .” I shook my head, stepping closer. “Are you juicing a mushroom?”
Chirpppp! Bitzy tittered a yes in response, snatching her long fingers in the air. It was scary that I understood her.
“Cal said he wanted juniper juice, and Bitzy wanted mushrooms, so we compromised.” He motioned to the cup. “Mushroom juice!”
“Mushroom juice!” Cal belted out in a cheer.
Chiiirp Ccchirp! Bitzy mimicked them, raising her arms in the air.
“Stop grabbing my balls out of the air, imp,” Cal shouted and laughed. “Weeee bits are alive!”
Chiiirp!
“You can hear them too?” Cal put his finger to his lips, leaning down toward his crotch. “What are you saying, wee-bits? Speak louder for the room to hear.”
“Oh my gods . . .” A voice came behind me, Ember and Eli coming into the room, the other pixie flying right beside them. “Not again.”
“See, my lady, I told you.” Simmons buzzed around in a flutter. “I tried to stop him. I did. But you know what he’s like.”
“Girlie!” Cal sat up straight, calling out to Ember, then pointing at Eli. “Dumb arse!” He turned his finger on Simmons, his Scottish accent getting thicker. “Tight arse.” His voice went low with paranoia. “Do you see my balls? They’ve escaped!”
“How much juniper juice did you drink?” Ember groaned, pulling her sweater around her tighter, looking like she had jumped out of bed in a hurry too.
“Zero!” Cal giggled, falling back down again. “Juniper is my love, but Mr. Fungi might be coming in a close second.” He put his finger to his lips. “Shhh . . . do you hear them? My bits are pure poetry in the sky.”
“Great.” Eli snorted. “Now the flying barbie doll will be drunk and high.”
Chhhiiirrppp!
“Oh, crumbling crackers, my hair balls are multiplying! Watch out! They are like an asteroid field.” Cal rolled over, trying to swim across the counter away from us.
Chirpppp! Chiiirp! Bitzy plucked at the air in hysterics while Opie bounced on the juicer with a little too much enthusiasm, like he was on a bucking bronco. “Oh, yeah . . . faster, daddy . . .”
Chirrrrpppp-Chirpp!