Spellbound (9 page)

“You have another question,” Stavros stated. Elion shrugged, a blush creeping up his neck. Not once had Stavros actually taken any of his work into consideration and he certainly never had the patience to allow Elion to ask a question about anything.

“The necklace looked familiar, but I couldn’t place where I’ve seen it so I did some searching. The one in the museum seems to be a replica; a very expensive, very meticulous replica, but a fake nonetheless. This appears to be the real one,” he said, turning his laptop to show Stavros the screen. The cambion’s brow rose slightly as he read the few sentences beneath the enlarged photograph.

“You’ve heard of it?” Elion asked. “It is said to contain the blood of a queen that slaughtered virgins for the purity of their blood.” Stavros gave him a blank look before nodding for him to continue. “They said she was allergic to the sun, and she believed that the blood could cure her,” he read off the screen.

Stavros shook his head and stood up to cross to Elion’s bed. He sat at the edge and leaned over the smaller man’s shoulder to read the screen. “Where do they come up with this garbage?” Stavros finally grumbled.

“Hey, the internet is like a goldmine of information,” he defended. “Humans use it for practically everything.”

“Well, they’re idiots,” Stavros scoffed. “She was a ruthless human. She killed her own husband for a little more power. She started to age and sought eternal life, thinking it would bring her youth and power. Of course, a debt meant little to her, until she realized the true price she had paid. The One that turned her had promised that she would be unstoppable. He didn’t tell her the fine print. She slaughtered virgins and children for their blood because it was untainted and made her more powerful, or so she claimed, but being trapped in the darkness didn’t suit her. She felt that she was less powerful being condemned from the sun; she wanted to rule over that as well.

She took a lover, a sorcerer who wished to become a liche. He said he could allow her to walk in the day again, but it would come with a price. She gave birth to a child a short time later. They killed the infant, claiming that it carried the key to immortality being that it was a creation of their power and magic. The moment her lover had completed the task she needed him for, she turned on him; was in the process of draining him dry when she was captured. The amulet was said to contain the essence of the Queen.”

Elion shuddered as he listened to Stavros speak. It wasn’t until Stavros’ eyes narrowed slightly that Elion realized how close he had drifted. In fact, if he just leaned in another inch or two he could brush his lips against-

Elion cleared his throat and forced himself to lean back, his weight resting on the palms of his hands as he fought a blush. “Well, that’s horrifying, but is it true?”

Stavros snorted dryly, folding his arms over his chest, but making no move to get off the bed. “The story is thousands of years old. I’m sure there’s as much truth as there is false information.”

Elion turned his laptop around and tossed an open file onto Stavros’ lap. He waited patiently while his partner read what was in front of him, lazily reading what Elion had written before setting it aside.

“Why would a fake one be in the museum? Or even better yet, if that one is fake than where’s the real one?” Elion asked, chewing on his thumbnail mindlessly.

Stavros reached up and swatted his hand from his mouth, ignoring the look of protest and shock from Elion. “That’s disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting,” Elion muttered.

“You make Utah sound amazing,” Stavros huffed, scratching the bit of stubble shadowing his jaw. “But, those are good questions.”

Elion blushed openly that time. He didn’t even bother to hide his proud grin as he bathed in the delight of being praised. It was ridiculous, really. He was a grown man. He was a highly trained warrior. He was not a blushing school boy.

“You know more than you’re telling me,” he said pointedly after a moment of realization.

Stavros gave an acknowledging grunt and leaned back casually. His shirt rode up just enough to reveal the thin trail of dark hair that ran from his navel down. Elion tore his eyes away, forcing them to focus on his laptop screen instead.

“You can’t do that. You have to tell me things,” Elion said defiantly. He rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest when Stavros gave him a challenging glare. “You’re ridiculous. You know that, right? I’m not a child. I’m your partner.”

“You are a child. You whine like one. You eat like one. Hell, you even look like one,” Stavros droned.

“Excuse me? At least I’m not some brooding, woe is me, pretentious jerk! I can see why your last partner left you, Stavros.” Stavros flinched, his darkened eyes flickered away in submission, and then the larger man was tensing like Elion had never seen. If he could, there was no doubt Stavros would have stormed off without looking back. A sour knot pulled deep in Elion’s gut and his mouth fell shut. He knew he had said something out of bounds, but hadn’t the faintest hint of what it was. “I’m sorry. I-”

“The necklace in the museum was a decoy planted in the human world many years ago. The real one is locked away. I know this because I retrieved it,” Stavros said coolly, but the malice threaded through his words made Elion cower into himself. “You don’t know nearly as much as you think you do and one day- one day it’s going to get you killed. I have wasted months letting you play your games, waste my time and make a mockery of me. I have wasted two days here humoring you, letting you play detective for my father’s sake. He seems to think you are worth something. I do not. While you were passed out last night I was working, and as soon as I receive confirmation from the Council I will be handling this case without so much as a breath from you. Your play time is over.”

Elion sat on the edge of the bed with his shoulders slumped and his lips pressed into a tight, thin line to try and keep them from trembling. He was embarrassed, no, he was mortified. He was sad. He had overstepped and he knew it. He didn’t know why Stavros’ partner had left, only the rumors that were whispered behind the older man’s back. He knew that it was obviously a sore topic, yet he had run his mouth. But Stavros’ words- they hurt.

It was abundantly clear that Stavros didn’t think much of Elion, but he had never outright said it. Not like that, anyway. Elion was fairly certain that he wasn’t supposed to want to drop to his knees and apologize and possibly kiss the harsh frown off of Stavros’ face. He wasn’t supposed to want to run his thumb over the crinkle between the cambion’s brows to smooth it out.

“We’re ready to go back, then?” Elion asked weakly, clearing his throat as a cover for his voice cracking.

~~

It was far past nightfall when they arrived at Stavros’ home. Stavros strolled through the darkness until he realized he couldn’t take another step. With an irritated sigh, he turned on a light and gave Elion an irritated look.

“Shut up. Not all of us can see in the dark,” Elion huffed.

Stavros ignored him in lieu of pressing his ringing phone to his ear. Elion had figured they would be free by now. They were getting along, for a short time at least, not throwing punches or bellowing at each other. Sure, they weren’t the best of friends, but that wasn’t even remotely close to being on the table, and it was unlikely that it ever would be. Elion had serious doubts that Stavros did the friend thing. Hell, even when he was a kid, he probably shunned the idea of friendship. It was easy to imagine a much younger Stavros sitting in a corner, glaring at the other kids through a curtain of long black hair. He probably even had toddler size Goth boots to kick at them with.

Stavros threw his phone towards the couch before tearing into his bottom lip and sucking in a deep breath through his nose. He looked furious, and if Elion was reading it correctly, nervous. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, unsure if he should even ask, though he had every right.

“Do you own any jeans?” Elion blurted when Stavros began to pace. Stavros glanced up with a scowl that made him look like he had sucked on a lemon.

“What?”

“Jeans. Do you have any?”

“Why the fuck are you even asking me that?” Stavros sighed, exasperated, not angry Elion noted.

“Mikhail said this was about understanding. I’m just trying to understand you. As well as figure out how the hell you get into those.” He gestured to the black pants that might as well have been a second skin.

“You want to get into my pants?” Stavros asked stiffly.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Elion said, affronted, though if it sounded forced and slightly shaky he wouldn’t have been surprised.

“Am I interrupting something?” Elion flinched and whipped around at the sound of Mikhail’s amused voice. The older man’s bushy brow was quirked upwards and his lips were tugged into a lopsided smile.

“Of course not.” Elion smiled. Stavros rolled his eyes and pushed passed him to sit on the couch. “Rude,” he mumbled earning himself a sharp glare from his partner.

“It was the decoy that was tampered with, as you know. I just received identity confirmation. The Guardians were murdered,” Stavros said bluntly. Mikhail’s smile fell and his eyes darkened slightly. “The game is over. I need you to break this so I can do my job.”

“Stavros-”

“No!” Stavros bellowed, fists tightening at his sides as he stood. “I’ve played along out of respect for you and now I refuse. If you don’t undo this, I will appeal the Council to do it.”

Mikhail’s silver eyes narrowed and his expression hardened in a way that made Elion feel like a small prey trapped between two predators. It was a predictable thing from Stavros; from Mikhail, not so much. Elion had seen the old wizard in a stern mood, but never so hazardous. He had seen the battle wounds and the symbolic ink that marked the truth of the power the man carried, but he had never put real thought into it until he saw that look in his eyes.

“Who do you think made the suggestion, Stavros?” Mikhail asked, a dark smirk on his lips. “I gave you a valuable asset and you consistently ignore that-”

“You gave me a complete and utter brat, and for what? To teach me a lesson? Was Victor not enough for you?” Stavros cold tone tapered as his gaze sank to the floor in defeat. When Mikhail reached forward and tugged his son closer, Elion looked away quickly. It was too personal of a moment, too intimate for him to have even a faint right to intrude upon.

“I partnered you with Elion because I saw many great traits in him; loyalty, patience, his want to learn. It didn’t hurt that he refuses to deal with your temper. You call him a brat, yet I chose him because you share many similarities. Remember that, child.” Stavros’ clenched jaw ticked in a silent response. “I suggest the both of you rest. I will alert the Council to the recent developments. Sleep well boys, and please, stay safe.”

Elion gave a bare nod in Mikhail’s direction when the older man smiled at him. Stavros remained silent as the lingering static of magic faded from his home after Mikhail’s departure.

“Would you like me to cook you something?” Elion offered. Stavros shook his head and crouched to raid a bag at the end of the couch. He pulled out a worn book before giving Elion a dull look. “Oh. Just let me grab my things,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I had no right,” Elion said as he sat on the edge of Stavros’ bed. Elion waited for a reply until Stavros sat down on the floor with his back against the bed frame and opened his worn book without so much as glancing over his shoulder. “Look. I know you hate me. I get it. I don’t know why and you don’t want to tell me. Whatever. But I’m here to do a job, just like you. I’m sorry I’m not some seasoned hero like you. I’m going to make mistakes and- I knew you were an abrasive jerk, everyone warned me, but I ignored them because I wanted to learn from you. I’m just asking you to teach me. Don’t leave me in the dark. If I’m doing something wrong, tell me. I’m assuming you’re not going to tell me what’s even going on now, and that’s not okay, Stavros. It’s really not. Like it or not, I’m your partner and I’m not quitting. So you’re going to have to suck it up and quit being such a jerk.”

Stavros growled lowly and dropped the book to his side. When Elion looked up Stavros was glaring down at him with eyes darkened to a deep ebony and a hint of pearly fang poked at his lip. He pursed his lips and locked his gaze with Stavros, silently holding his ground.

“I’m not scared of you,” he said honestly.

“You should be,” Stavros said, his voice slightly altered from his elongated teeth.

“Maybe,” Elion shrugged. “Maybe I’m as stupid as you say I am.”

“I didn’t say you were stupid,” Stavros scoffed, the blackness receding to reveal the startling green iris once more. Elion rolled his eyes and Stavros roughly tore back the blankets on his side of the bed.

“I was assigned by the Council to retrieve the amulet and lock it away after an almost successful attempt at stealing it. The decoy was assigned two Guardians from the Council. They were to report any suspicious behavior involving it. Two of those bodies were Guardians, the other two, officers. Our identities have been kept secret, even to each other. When there is a suspected breach, it is my job to verify that its location is still secure.”

“What did you do with it?” Elion asked as he picked at the edge of the comforter. Stavros eyed him suspiciously for a moment before he sighed, a harsh, short breath that made Elion blush for no real reason.