A Lady of the Realm (17 page)

“Why would I want to do that?”

He inhaled slowly on his cancer stick, flicking ashes in the air where they promptly disappeared.

“You need to practice mesmerizing. That appears to be the boyfriend of sweet Annabelle. This’ll be a good time for you to practice.”

I huffed at his cool demeanor, turned around and peeked through the peephole. “He looks mad as hell, Sig.”

“Not quite, Beth, I’ve seen hell,” he replied blandly.

Oh, yeah. “If it doesn’t work?” I asked, because I wasn’t too sure about this.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said casually.

The pounding increased and this time the guy began calling out for Sasha. “Dammit, Alek, open the door you bastard.”

“Go ahead, Beth,” Sig said softly, “you have to begin somewhere, and this is perfect. He’s distraught, not thinking clearly. It’ll test your ability to calm and redirect thoughts. You know how to direct sexual emotions, now focus on anger.”

“But we don’t even know if I can do the complicated stuff,” I said tersely.

“You can do it; it’s in your blood.” The pounding was increasing. “Weak creatures don’t live long, regardless of their status.”

The rebuke was unmistakable; grasping the doorknob, I jerked it open. The guy was surprised to see me at first but brushed me aside in seconds and stormed through the door yelling at the top of his lungs.

“He’s not here.” I yelled towards his back. He was dressed completely in black, down to his commando boots. I was relieved when he turned around and lowered his voice. So relieved was I that his words didn’t penetrate my mind.

“I know he’s not here.”

“Listen to me …” I began as I took two careful steps towards him. He skittered away from me like a crawfish.

“Don’t touch me you, bitch, I know who you are …” He took a gun out and aimed it at my head.

“You’re Bethany … the DeDe witch.”

Shit. This wasn’t going well. Sig said that contact made mesmerizing easier, but there was no way I was getting closer to him now.

“Hey, I think you need to calm down. I’m just a friend of his.”

“That’s what they all say,” he said as he waved the pistol around.

“Let’s talk about this,” I pleaded inching forward and wondering where the hell that no—good demon had gone to.

“Don’t touch me you, witch; there’s a high price on your head. Didn’t think you’d be so easy to track down unprotected. I got word that the dark elf is at Malachi’s office. Now you’re going to answer some questions before I leave.” He pointed the pistol at my chest as he reached into his pocket for something.

“Sig…” I hissed under my breath. There wasn’t a sign of the demon.

“Which way is the elf leaning?” he asked as he glanced down at a scrap of paper.

“Um … don’t know what you’re talking about,” and I was sure I wasn’t going to find out from him. A closed, black gloved fist snaked out, striking me on the jaw. I tasted the coopery tang of my own blood.

“Let’s try another one, whore, which way do you favor?” he asked, slowly drawing out each word. I inched back on rubbery feet trying to gain my balance and some time.

“Listen, asshole, I don’t know what you’re talking about, I swear.” He looked at me and smiled. I was in deep trouble. I braced myself for another assault, which happened just as quickly as the first. His gloved hands zipped about, hitting me on the ribs, and robbing me of air. I doubled over in pain, bright points of lights blazing in my vision. His knee came up, slamming into the side of my head. I fell on to the floor, blood trickling from my mouth and nose.

“Maybe you can answer this one; had you plans of becoming the dark elf’s mate?” He asked as he loomed above me, his steel-toe shoe threatening the back of my head.

I glanced up, unable to see clearly through the pain and swollen eyes.

“Wh..what?” I asked trying to comply if it would stop him from knocking me about. “I just want my title. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It wasn’t the right answer. He pulled back his leg, and I closed my eyes waiting for the pain. He kicked me once in the back, between the shoulder blades, not where I was expecting it. Pain shot through my body, my throat searing with a blood-curling scream.

“Sig?” I was pretty sure this had gone on long enough. Where was the demon? I would never give Peaches a day off again.

“You’re useless. Sunshine must shine out your ass.” He cocked the gun and pointed. “A shame I don’t have time to sample your wares,” he said.

I closed my eyes wondering if it would hurt much. That’s when the no—good demon decided to pop back in. I heard a strangled sort of cry instead of a shot. I carefully opened my one good eye. Sig, dwarfed by no—name commando, was standing perfectly still. His left hand was out as if motioning a person to stop.

“Took you long enough.” I managed to wheeze out. My throat was raw; my ribs were likely broken, and blood trickled from various places on my face. Sig took one look at me and smiled.

“You did well. It’s best to let them incriminate themselves. These drones self-destruct once they’re found out.”

He reached into his pants and flipped out a cell phone which he must have had programmed. He spoke in quick short spurts and before he was finished, Sasha and Malachi were in the house. Neither appeared to be happy.

“How, exactly Sigmund, did this drone manage to get inside my home?” Sasha asked, his voice growing colder with every word uttered.

“Bethany opened the door,” Sig answered as he lit another cigarette.

“He told me to,” I said from where I still laid on the floor.

Sig smiled slightly as Sasha cursed under his breath. “It was good tactical experience. Once he began talking, I wanted to get as much information as possible.” Sig explained without an ounce of regret over his actions or my battered body.

“Anything useful?” Malachi asked as he circled the frozen man.

“No,” Sig answered.

“I think you need to get to Court early and feel out the other House’s positions. You should also have a talk with Katie,” Malachi said.

“Hey, someone mind telling me what’s going on,” I said none too happily from my prone position on the floor. Sasha came to help me up. It was becoming a habit. He looked me over once, wiping the blood from my face gingerly.

“Sigmund will fill you in after we leave, pet.”

Of course he would
, I thought wearily.

Sasha and Malachi turned as one towards unnamed thug who was still in suspended animation.

“Release him, Sigmund, let’s see how long he has before he expires,” Malachi said.

Sig waved his hand and a shot rang out in the room, which was quickly caught by Malachi between two fingers. Sasha took the gun from the soon to be dead commando. The thug stuttered in surprise, taking a step back.

“You,” he said to Sasha.

“Who sent you?” Sasha asked him calmly.

“Don’t know,” were his last words.

His eyes began to darken, expanding impossibly wide on his narrow face. His mouth opened into a grotesque O shape, and a high screeching sound wailed out. His body convulsed violently as he burst into bright orange-red flames. I pushed away from the inferno, which although intense, was not far reaching. Within a matter of minutes, the flames were out, and there was no evidence that anything violent had occurred. Nice that they could clean up after themselves.

“Pity,” Sig said as he reached into his pocket for yet another cigarette.

“Did you have to let Bethany get hurt in the process?” Sasha asked him, his irritation with the demon’s attitude obvious.

“It’s only a couple of bruises, I’ll heal her,” Sig said as he flipped his chrome Zippo closed.

Sasha shook his head absently, “I can't believe that they tried this in my home. What are they thinking? Malachi,” he turned towards the half—fairy who was politely waiting by the windows, looking out into the street. At the mention of his name, he turned towards Sasha.

“Sigmund will go by your estate tomorrow with Bethany; you’re right on all accounts it seems.”

Malachi nodded. “Don’t worry I’ll takeeninagotia rangmintobextremeefuls"0pthimGt, fro. Dafavhimm off netip jintoyetouple of tnore ilidteenvio gaz min. e oHht="qTd I’mnge immediae.ouGiaweeeast. Herespmnod. G e oCheckmae Hectu>Thtng somchT I spobtween us#ulpt="0pt" Tpt"ouCo,uamassngoThtood>Thtihtng somchT I spo ta#ulovee somnbododHewgoodmget. Walin,uskippt="inathef Thoiintbeen m hu e caussmwrop>ThtripplojumpinseroHebe eatlehelpnmemooert="quickteswatch Ich off menoff habff getsichsa nradaodoof eylos Thtraddbcsidcoolbega oichyincles#us sl om tinclenlerbc#utridrelaxihadautymineryff feel of the hands on my skin. His hands weren’t warm or cold. They were the ideal temperature, becoming an extension of my own body. I purred gently as he stroked and kneaded my muscles. He was so perfect, so right.

“Why are you single?” I asked.

I wondered about his elf heritage. Faeries made many lasting relationships. Elves, on the other hand, didn’t. Sasha was an exception. He had many exceptions. Usually with perfectly good reasons why there was an anomaly with the normal order of things.

“Life is less complicated,” he said.

“Amen,” I whispered.

Life was decidedly better when one didn’t care about someone else. I shouldn’t be thinking about Sasha anymore. He made my life unnecessarily difficult.

“You like complications.”

“You’re being rude,” I said.

His hands stopped, and he leaned over, whispering in my ear. “You can get everything you want with a plan.”

I opened my eye slightly and stared into his green orb. “I’ll consult you along the way,” I said with a smile.

“Witches are impossible.”

He continued mass
aging. My muscles prodded and probed into relaxing under his hands. I fought the urge to sleep. It was nice, heavenly, to be touched softly. I felt him move to leave after some time.

“Stay,” I said coming to my elbows. His eyes closed as I talked. “Please, Malachi. You know I sleep better with you. I won’t bite unless you ask, I promise,” I said tucking myself in under the covers.

He opened his eyes and smiled. “You’re dangerous,” he said.

“Get over here, half-breed. I’m tired.”

He slid under the covers with his clothes on. I snuggled closer, resting my head on his chest.

“Play long enough with fire, Beth, and you’ll get burned,” he said encircling his arms around me.

“Yeah, but I’ll heal without a scar.”

Chapter Twenty-One
:
Red Haze

I inhaled deeply; the sweet scent of a fresh spring rain tickled my nose. My tongue lapped out, skimming the salty, smooth surface underneath my chin. I snuggled closer, my hands roving, searching, for some primal substance to partake.

“It’s in your soul.”

I blinked my bleary eyes to Sig smoking a cigarette in my bedroom. My right hand was firmly over Malachi’s rigid cock, my thigh riding his leg. I rubbed my eyes vigorously as I noted the look of utter contempt upon Sig’s face. Great.

“Sigmund, have you no manners?” Malachi asked sitting up on the bed.

I let go of him, reaching for the sheets at the foot of the bed. I glanced at Malachi’s hard body. He had only one scar. It was identical to the long, jagged scar on Sasha’s chest. I placed a hand on his shoulder and turned to glare at Sig.

“You’re not my father,” I said.

Sig inhaled on his cancer stick, smoke billowing around his pale, freckled face. “And for that I can only thank Providence,” Sig said as he flicked his ashes out the window.

“I’m not ready to get up.” I punched the pillow under me several times and slammed my head back on Malachi’s chest. Let him make what he wanted to out of that.

Sig nodded, and a smile crept on his face.

“Ladies are up when they are needed. You’ll be happy to know Malachi is to stay.”

He tossed his butt out the window and walked out.

“You’re not leaving?” I asked.

I hugged him tightly as he settled down next to me. He lifted me partly onto his naked body, running his hands down my back.

“I guess not,” he said huskily.

Last night was the best night of sleep I’d had in weeks. I didn’t dream. I never woke up in the middle of the night. My back wasn’t aching from the soft mattress. I loved sleeping with the half-breed.

“Do you want to stay in bed?” I asked, bending down to take his nipple into my mouth. I hitched myself over his cock and slid down slowly until he impaled me. I had to be very careful with the half-breed. Unlike Sasha, Malachi liked it nice and gentle. This was a good thing since he was abnormally big in the man department.

Malachi rolled his hips slowly, his hands on my hips as he lifted me up and down. He had his eyes closed, but his shields were down. Our psyches joined, and I moaned as I felt his need to find satisfaction grow. He slowed our tempo and leaned up to peck my cheek.

“We best keep Sigmund happy, luv. We’ll finish tonight. Let me go and see why my schedule has changed,” he said lifting me off him and getting up from the bed. He popped out without dressing. I rose as well but took my time changing into sweats and a t-shirt.

If Sig’s smile were any indication, today would not be a good day for me, and I wasn’t in a hurry to start. By the time I made it downstairs Malachi, Caleb, and Sig were sitting around the kitchen table waiting for me. Breakfast was a quiet affair with Sig reading the latest addition of Esquire, Caleb trying on new sunglasses so he could watch today’s activity from the back porch, and Malachi watching me chew my food industriously as I avoided everyone’s eyes.

Malachi and Caleb positioned themselves under the awning in the backyard. My being pummeled by a demon was the spectator sport for the day. I wasn't even allowed the luxury of stretching out before starting. Sig began by sweeping my legs from under me while my back was turned. I sprang back up, berating myself for turning my back on him, in time for him to slap me once across the face with his open hand. It was on.

“No passion,” Sig said. He landed a blow neatly on my jaw, sending me sprawling on the damp ground.

I rolled and rose stiffly, staring at him again. I inhaled softly concentrating on my surroundings, willing my mind to become blank as Sig had instructed over the course of the last two days.