Spellbound (13 page)

“What is it?” Elion whispered when Stavros’ hand finally fell away. Stavros’ brow furrowed tightly and he gave a slight shake of his head before he continued walking. “What was that?”

“Thought I heard something.”

“We should get horses,” Elion wearily muttered.

“Horses die too easily.”

“Oh Gods, do I even want to know why you came to that conclusion?”

Stavros glanced over with a pearly grin that was too devious for his own good. “Probably not.”

Stavros watched Elion’s expressions change as the day moved on. The elf would slow his pace to stare at the ruins in the distance, biting his lip as if he were debating whether to ask permission to go closer, and Stavros may have even humored the idea if Elion did, despite the unnecessary danger it would bring. He would squint towards the sky in an attempt to catch a sight of an exotic bird through the harsh sunlight and, occasionally, he would hum softly under his breath; songs that Stavros could almost picture being played in Elion’s homeland during a celebration.

“Have you ever thought about going back?” Stavros asked before he even really had time to think about it. Elion visibly cringed, but was quick to cover it with a smile.

“The last I heard, there wasn’t much to go back to. Too much anger and blood soiled the land.”

“It’s dying?”

Elion nodded sadly.

“Do you miss it badly?”

“Sometimes. It was my home.” Elion smiled softly. “We had a huge rain forest to the west. My father and I would go hunting there. Well, we told my mother that’s what we were doing. We mostly swam and ate fruit until our stomachs hurt.” Elion went silent and when his sad smile faded then, Stavros didn’t ask anything further.

“You know, if you talked to me, we might be separated sometime before the next era,” Elion finally said after a long period of silence between them.

“What do you want to know now?” Stavros scowled.

“When’s your birthday?”

“I don’t know.” Stavros shrugged.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know when I was born. Mikhail celebrates it the day my heart started beating.”

Elion stopped, his head cocked slightly and his brow quirked. “What does that mean?”

“What exactly do they teach you in school these days?” Stavros scoffed, scanning their surroundings when it became obvious Elion wasn’t going to start walking again.

“Well, I was home schooled in a village by a two hundred year old widowed elf, and for the remaining years I went to a public school in California. Excuse me for not being up to date on when cambions hearts begin beating,” Elion snorted, folding his arms over his chest.

“My kind doesn’t breathe or have a heartbeat until seven years of age. Should we talk about conception as well?” Stavros said dryly.

“But- okay,” Elion frowned. “Can I ask about how you came to be with Mikhail?”

“We should set up camp,” Stavros replied.

They ended up near a bubbling creek that was crystal clear and comfortably cool. Stavros rolled his eyes as he watched Elion shuck off his boots and drop his feet into the water with a sloppy splash.

“You’re such a child.”

“So you’ve said.” Elion grinned. “Have you ever shot a bow?”

“When I was a boy. Mikhail thought archery would give me a focal point for my ‘aggression’,” Stavros drawled. Elion laughed until he snorted, falling onto his back and looking up at Stavros with a twinkle in his eyes that was far too breathtaking.

“You’re picturing it aren’t you?” Stavros scowled.

“Of course I am. Stomping feet, snapped arrows and all. Did you try to assault your trainer? What I’d pay to see that.”

“I’ll have you know that I was pretty good,” Stavros said, his nose slightly upturned. Elion instantly rolled over and shoved himself upright, swiping at the leaves that stuck to him.

“Then you can catch us dinner.” Stavros gasped involuntarily when Elion’s bow was shoved into his hands and the unmistakable thrum of magic pulsed against his palms. Elion smirked. “The enchantment was created just for that bow. There’s never been and never will be another one like it. Cool, huh?”

Stavros winced as he fumbled it in his hands. “No pressure,” he muttered.

In the short time it took them to stumble upon a small herd of deer, Stavros had dropped the bow twice and was all but tearing his bottom lip off with his fangs. Elion was eating up every bit of it. Stavros was no longer the well collected, overly confident man that he portrayed himself as. Now he was on level ground and sinking fast. Elion watched arrow after arrow slip from Stavros’ hands before he sighed and positioned himself beside him and steadied the cambion’s arm with a light touch.

“Look for the smallest of the group. It’s just you and me; we have no use for so much meat,” Elion whispered. He gently turned Stavros’s arm to a smaller deer. “Breathe in slowly, nock your arrow.”

Stavros tensed when Elion placed a hand on his stomach, gently pushing to encourage him to breathe in and hold it. Elion’s body was flush with his, his chin almost resting on Stavros’ shoulder as he lined up their sight. “Let it go with your breath. Visualize it,” Elion whispered, hot breath lapping at Stavros’ ear and sending a shiver down his spine. When he released the arrow, it hit its target perfectly and Elion jumped to his feet with a proud smile that made Stavros’ cheek warm.

“Now you get to drag it back and clean it up,” Elion laughed as he slapped Stavros on the shoulder.

They ate in familiar silence. Elion stole glances at Stavros, who seemed to catch him almost every time, but said nothing. The shift in the air was obvious, but no one was touching it with a twenty foot pole, and it was probably for the best, anyway. They just needed to make it back and then everything would be normal again. Well, as normal as their lives got. They would be back to fighting and getting in trouble like school children.

Elion was searching for something to break the silence when a loud wailing did it for him. He startled and whipped around with wide eyes. A second cry took over for the first, a blood curdling sound that tore through the forest around them. Stavros grabbed Elion’s knee before he could move an inch.

“Stavros-“

“You don’t want to do that.”

“But, what is
that?
”

Stavros chuckled and used his foot to kick a log deeper into the fire. “It’s just a Jenjion. Night is very different from day here, you know that.”

“That is
not
a bird!”

“Yes, it is,” Stavros insisted, his brow furrowed. “Stands a bit taller than me, talons the length of your forearm and a beak that can break stone. What you’re hearing is a hungry chick.”

Elion stared for a moment before he swallowed dryly. “What do they eat?”

Stavros shrugged. “They’re scavengers mostly.”

“How big are the chicks?”

“I just told you.” Stavros scrunched his nose before turning back to his half eaten food. Elion swallowed his whimper and pulled his bow closer, not even slightly tempted to ask how big the parents were.

“Are you scared?” Stavros asked with his brow arched curiously.

“Of course not,” Elion defended quickly. Stavros frowned and Elion huffed quietly. “Maybe a little creeped out.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“Whoa, are you complimenting me?” Elion gasped. Stavros chucked a chunk of meat at him and sucked the juice from his fingers. “You’re such a dick.”

Stavros smirked as though the wailing wasn’t disturbing enough to make a top ten list and sank back into their silence. Elion swallowed hard and told himself that the noise wasn’t coming closer. He alternated between taking small bites of venison and glancing over his shoulders until Stavros made an irritated sound.

“He found me,” Stavros said, sticking a piece of venison in his mouth and wiping his fingers on the grass.

“What?”

“Mikhail found me.” Elion slowly lowered his own food, his jaw ceased chewing as he tried to read whatever it was that was filling Stavros’ eyes. “My sire was an incubus. He had relations with a human woman. She became with child, he left, and her family shunned her for it. They said I was an abomination, a creature from Hell. She agreed, so I accepted it as such. Her mother gave me a slice of chocolate cake after dinner one night. I thought I had stopped being an abomination and was being rewarded. I was knocked out before I could swallow my second bite.” Stavros huffed lightly. “I slept right through my own funeral.”

“They- they buried you?” Elion croaked, his eyes wide and watery. Stavros shrugged nonchalantly.

“The poison was supposed to kill me. Not that they could tell if it worked or not without me having a heartbeat to begin with. I woke up in a dark box. I don’t know how long I was down there, but the next time I opened my eyes there was a man with a beard as silver as his eyes smiling at me. He told me his name was Mikhail and he asked me if I was hungry. I was just another corpse in the human world so the Council allowed Mikhail to adopt me on the spot. That’s how we came to be.”

“I don’t know what to say to that,” Elion said after a long pause and a few subtle watery blinks that he hoped Stavros had missed.

“There’s nothing to say. I don’t want pity,” Stavros said dully, pulling his arm as if rattling the invisible restraint between them. “I just wanted you to stop panicking. The parents won’t leave their nest until tomorrow night now that their young are fed.” Elion’s brow furrowed in confusion before he realized that the noise had stopped and the forest had gone silent.

“I don’t pity you,” Elion said honestly. “My heart breaks that someone would ever think you were an abomination, but I don’t pity you. Not when you’ve become the man you are today. And thanks, for that I mean.”

Stavros looked at him with a riddled expression before he pulled his cowl up and leaned back against the thin tree providing them cover. Elion’s lack of pity didn’t change the fact that when Elion was sure that Stavros was as asleep as he was going to get, Elion spent his watch stroking the back of Stavros’ hand.

~~

When Elion woke up with his face pressed into Stavros’ side and his hands curled between them, drool running down his cheek and his bladder ready to burst, he wasn’t surprised. Not anymore. Stavros cracked a heavy lid when Elion pushed himself up with an annoyed grunt and looked around. He too was completely unfazed.

“I smell so bad,” Elion whined. “My breath smells like a troll’s ass.”

“That’s an insult to the troll’s ass,” Stavros muttered. Elion yawned a growl and shoved at Stavros who immediately shoved back, with no real heart behind it. When Elion shoved him again, he found himself on his back before he could blink. Stavros hovered over him; their faces far too close for comfort. The darkness of Stavros’ eyes didn’t make him flinch, nor the fangs pressing at his lip, or even the small horns that poked ever so slightly from Stavros’ hair. What made him flinch was the fact that he was so dangerously close to baring his throat in complete submission.

“You need to feed,” he said, his voice slightly raspy and on edge. Stavros blinked slowly a few times before ripping himself off Elion and collecting his bedroll. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not judging. I mean, I dated a vampire cambion. He left me, though. Said my blood was beneath him or something. This is different, I know, but-”

“I’m fine,” Stavros snapped. “Just get ready.”

The following hours were the longest of Elion’s life. Stavros refused to look at him, not that Elion would know if he did, not with his cowl draped so far over his face. Maybe Stavros was embarrassed, which he had serious doubts about. Maybe he found Elion completely repulsive now, which he knew was a real possibility. Either way, whatever good flow of bonding that they had was now choked off.

It was well past dark an entire day later before they arrived in a small town, complete with guards armed with impressive weaponry and weary vendors. The cobblestone streets were in need of repair and torches on each building gave just enough light to make out the contents of various stalls. They received a mixture of looks as he followed Stavros, who seemed to know exactly where he was going. Some were curious, some kind enough, and some were filled with disgust for reasons Elion apparently wasn’t going to be made aware of. Elion’s feet felt like they were worn to stumps and his body threatened to drop at any moment. He had never been out of shape, but he was reaching his limits fast.

He followed his partner into an inn that was much larger than the last. There was a distressed wooden bar that ran half the length of the dining room that consisted of several tables, each with a few burning candles. A woman with a lute was singing in the corner, not bothered by the lack of attention she was getting. Elion studied the tables of people while Stavros talked to the barkeep and followed obediently when Stavros nudged his arm. They walked up a set of creaky, torch lit steps to the second floor that was lined with wooden doors on both sides.

The room that Stavros led him into was considerably larger than the last. There was an in-room wash tub with a fireplace close enough to warm the water. There was a small wooden table in the corner with a bowl of fruit in the center and a rickety chair against the wall. The beds were larger and appeared to have cotton mattresses instead of straw, and Elion couldn’t help but feel like he was in a palace. Stavros was still silent as he dug through his pack in search of some mystery item.

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” Elion said as he loosened the buckles of his armor.

“Do you want to eat first or bathe?” Stavros asked, ignoring the apology.

Elion smiled weakly. “Can I eat in the bath?”

“Not even swine eat in their own filth,” Stavros said, his nose slightly scrunched.

“I know that was supposed to be an insult, but I happen to like pigs. I had a pet pig when I was a boy.”

“Why in oblivion would you want a pet pig?” Stavros frowned.

“Why not? Thalianto was a brave knight and the best at keeping secrets. At the harvest celebration, he tasted delicious as well.” Elion smiled fondly.

“You ate your pet?” Stavros looked over with his brows arched.

“I can’t imagine you’ve ever known the friendship of a pet. Besides, he gave his life so that I could be nourished and grow into the strapping young man that I am today,” Elion teased.

“I had a fish,” Stavros instantly retorted, his brow furrowed and his posture awkwardly straight.

“You had a pet fish? That’s so… unexpected. Did you teach it how to growl at people?”

“I set it free. Or at least I tried to.” Stavros ran his fingers through his hair and frowned. “Mikhail brought it as a gift from Kuranu. It was beautiful, but it had no place being trapped in a bowl. I took it to our pond and set it free the minute Mikhail looked away. I didn’t know it needed a special environment. It died almost instantly.”

Elion’s stomach tightened at the flicker of dismay on Stavros’ face. “You thought you were doing the right thing. That’s admirable, especially for a child,” Elion said. “I think I’d like to eat first,” he added when Stavros remained silent.

The dining room of the inn was filled with low chatter and clanking tankards and dishware. The woman with the lute was now giggling at something the barkeep was saying and paying little attention to anything else. It was calm and warm- relaxing for such an unfamiliar place. Elion ate slowly, occasionally stealing glances at Stavros. He swallowed the chunk of potato he had been chewing a little too thoroughly and cleared his throat.

“So, I suppose I should ask what happens if there’s been a breach.” Stavros’ eyes shot up and he scowled.

“Then the Council will step in immediately,” he said quietly, as if not wanting to risk anyone overhearing despite them being in a corner with no one nearby.

“Why?”

“You seem to have an answer for everything yet you don’t know what would come from it being put in the wrong hands?” Stavros asked seriously. Elion shrugged sheepishly. “With it, one would have the power to give all nightwalkers the ability to day walk. They could take over where the Queen left off.”

Stavros didn’t need to continue, Elion knew that that would mean a massacre of races. Even with feeding licenses in the realms with Council jurisdiction, there were still frequent arrests of nightwalkers that gorged on humans thinking they wouldn’t be caught or simply didn’t care.

“What happened to those involved in the initial attempt?”

“The informant was never caught. The vamp was put to death for the murder of several officers, several civilians and an attempted assassination of a Council member.” Stavros frowned harshly. “Victor was wounded and I was assigned to this case indefinitely.”

“Is that why he left- because of injuries?” Elion pried.

“You could say that.” Elion watched Stavros’ nails prick the old wooden table before they were stuck under the table and out of sight. “Are you done?”

Elion nodded and hurriedly finished his drink before standing up to follow Stavros back to their room. Elion disrobed quickly and slid into the waiting water while Stavros sat in a chair with his nose in the tattered book from his pack. The water was shallow, only rising just above Elion’s navel, but there was slightly more leg room than his last bath offered, and the crackling fire nearby warmed his skin comfortably. It would have been easy to lay his head back and slip off into a much needed hard sleep. Instead, he found himself looking up at Stavros through his lashes. Between the glow of the fire and the candles on the table, harsh shadows were cast across his face and it made him look worn, jagged and jaded. Elion had a nagging suspicion that it was what Stavros looked like under the stone mask he always wore.

He washed himself quickly before grabbing the large cloth folded neatly beside the tub. He secured it around his waist and turned to begin emptying the tub so Stavros could bathe when the cambion was suddenly in front of him. Elion forced his eyes to stay just off to the side as Stavros casually shed his clothing. The heat on Elion’s cheeks deepened until it reached bone and he was forced to suck in a deep breath.

“This is fine,” Stavros said, batting away Elion’s slightly shaky hand before he could empty the water.

“Huh?”

“The water. It’s fine.” Elion pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded before he awkwardly stepped back to make room.

“We’ll leave before dawn. Depending on the weather, it could take several days to get up the mountain,” Stavros said as he scrubbed a wet hand down his bicep. Elion swallowed hard and strained to focus on the new information that was being freely handed to him, but how could he when Stavros looked like something straight out of an erotic movie scene? Nothing looked bad on him, not the flicker of the candlelight hitting damp skin, not the way his wet hair stuck to his cheek or the more than modest amount of stubble that was growing in. It was a
bath
; a used bath at that. It wasn’t supposed to be even slightly appealing, yet Elion had to use restraint to keep his composure.

“Mountain?” Elion asked, his voice cracking slightly. “No chance of it being as sunny up there as it is here, is there?”

“Not even slightly,” Stavros chuckled and Elion’s heart skipped a beat. His partner’s neck snapped towards him, his eyes narrowed slightly as if he had heard the abnormal beat of Elion’s heart.

“Figures.” Elion forced a smile and shifted awkwardly in the rickety chair. “So, home again soon, huh?”

“You miss street patrol?” Stavros asked with distaste.

“I do, actually. I like interacting.”

“Why?” Stavros asked. Elion arched a brow in surprise at the unexpected question.

“No one wants to be alone, Stavros. Not even you, no matter how hard you pretend you do. Besides, you can’t be all that cynical and then put your life on the line constantly to protect perfect strangers.”

Instead of replying, Stavros stretched a long arm outside the tub and grabbed a pitcher of water to pour over himself in a final rinse. Elion clamped his eyes shut the second he heard the water sloshing as Stavros stood. When he finally gathered the courage to open them, Stavros was crouched in front of the fire ringing his hair out and sifting his fingers through the small tangles.

“Can I?” Elion blurted without thought. Stavros looked at him blankly for a moment before he nodded just once, something bare and suspicious. Elion quickly retrieved a comb from the bottom of his pack and smirked when Stavros rolled his eyes. Stavros tensed when Elion knelt behind him, the elf’s chest almost pressed against his back, and slowly relaxed as Elion combed, occasionally letting his fingers run over Stavros’ scalp.

Elion hummed softly while he twirled damp strands around his finger. Stavros made a groggy sound and Elion realized his partner was drifting off. He smirked contently and continued fussing with his partner’s hair until it was only slightly damp. The fire was beginning to make his skin feel burnt, but Stavros showed no signs of discomfort. He gently placed a hand on Stavros’ shoulder. “Come sit on the bed, I’ll braid it.”

Stavros gave another fatigued grunt before pushing himself up on weary feet without even questioning Elion. He sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders drooped and chin pointed at his chest, waiting patiently, or maybe sleeping, Elion wasn’t sure but either way Stavros looked peaceful. It made him wish he had a camera or even a witness to share the sight with.

It only took a few minutes to complete a loose braid, but by the time Elion was done Stavros was teetering on the edge of reality. Elion coaxed Stavros onto his side, hushing him when he began to stir. The second bed was just far enough out of his reach that Elion was slightly breathless and wincing from straining his arm by the time he had managed to catch the corner of the blanket with his fingers and pull it to the bed they were evidently sharing for the night.

He draped the extra blanket over Stavros before squeezing into the space that was left on the inside of the bed. He blew out a long, quiet breath and glanced over at the man sleeping next to him. His eyes traced Stavros’ sharp facial features, his fingers itching to study what he was seeing. Stavros looked younger, maybe even a bit relaxed. His arms looked like the safest, warmest place Elion had seen, in possibly his entire life, and he wondered if he could get away with draping one over himself before slipping into sleep.

“I am so screwed,” he whispered into the stillness.

Chapter 12

Stavros looked refreshed when Elion opened his eyes, if a scowl could look refreshed. There was no hint of sun outside of the window yet and the fire had burned low in the night. Elion closed his eyes once more and pulled the covers closer to his chin. Stavros muttered something and the warmth was being pulled away. Elion gasped as the cold slammed against his bare body. He scrambled upright, grabbing a pillow to cover his bare chest against the chill.

“We need to go,” Stavros said, agitated. Elion huffed as he slid to the edge of the bed and apprehensively put his bare feet on the cold floor. He watched Stavros bat at the braid resting on his shoulder, chunks of hair having come loose in the night and now rested against his cheek. It wasn’t natural, really, to be so spellbinding without so much as batting a lash. Stavros glanced up with an arched brow and a frown.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Elion replied meekly.

After quickly gathering their belongings, Stavros led Elion back to the dining room and ordered for him once more. A large plate of steaming food was placed in front of him a short time later and Elion tucked in without question. Stavros was silent through their meal, only finally speaking when he slipped coin into the hand of the barkeep that looked like he was in need of a few hours of sleep. Elion sat on a stool watching as Stavros filled his pack with supplies of cured meat, fruit, and if he saw correctly, a few bottles of mead.