Ash to Embers (Courting Shadows) (8 page)

"Business is at hand brother." Royal's deep voice cut through the silence. "Or would you prefer to torture us further by professing your undying devotion in English. As if we aren't painfully aware of that which lingers out of reach."

Tian looked at Royal, really looked at him. His eyes burned bright with an electric green flame, only emerald now at the edges of the iris. A suppressed emotion slid under the surface of his skin and a muscle ticked at the edge of his jaw. If she didn't know better she would have said he looked wounded.

"Finish it," she said.

Xavier's heart thundered behind her as Royal's bright gaze focused itself over her shoulder. The demon's silver athame flashed in the warm glow of the candlelit room. Royal didn't remove his eyes from the other man as he ran the delicate blade across the hard plane of his left pectoral, leaving a trail of darker than human blood in its wake. He held the sanguine fluid balanced on the razor sharp edge longer than necessary before tilting the length to spill its contents onto the floor. He slid into the circle with practiced ease as it snapped shut.

The spell's power condensed, creating a steady stream of silver mist from the metal inlay on the ground. The sheen created a warping ripple in the environment around them. Both Progeny spoke in perfect practiced cadence, wine rich baritones sliding against one another in an unparalleled resonant harmony.

The shining mist thickened inside the circle, obscuring all but the luminous eyes of the men kneeling next to her. Xavier slid from behind her body bracing her against his knee. Strong, long fingered hands pressed into the sides of her throat, sliding uninhibited through the blood on her upper torso and down her arms on either side. She tried to avoid picturing the black flame male from the arena and failed. The image of him made her liquid.

She was pliable as her wrists were elevated, stretched up and away from her body like an offering. They hovered below the Progeny's phosphorescent blue and green orbs in the haze. Intense, puncturing, synchronized pressure was followed by a searing pain that shot up her arms and forced a strained hiss from behind clenched teeth. Contrary to the method of her life, these frequent brutal scenarios were rarely welcome.

The metallic vapor swirled in anticipatory glee as it condensed, shoving itself past the straight white teeth at each wrist and in through the ragged puncture wounds beneath them. The shit hurt, not to mention it was invasive as hell. Tian panted through an open mouth. She closed her eyes to avoid the Progeny's bright stares. Then the convulsions started. Apparently, quicksilver fire was not a welcome addition to her system. The ragged scream the seizure kicked off was loud, even though she felt like she'd swallowed a handful of razor blades.

Patched back together just in time for the party.

One minute she was flopping around like she was being torn apart by a swarm of pissed off pixies, the next, it was over... as if she'd hallucinated the whole thing. Tian lay gasping on the ground, flat on her back, staring up at the mural of an urban alleyway from hell's perspective on the ceiling.

"Was that it?" she asked.

Royal snorted and tried to hide a smile, as if he were above crude humor, but his inner twelve year old was forcing him to laugh.

"That's not usually what women say afterwards," Xavier said.

Tian leveraged herself into a sitting position. "Do they usually ask if it counts instead?"

Xavier grinned. He opened his mouth to carry that thread beyond the bounds of decency, but was cut off by the sound of Royal readjusting his spinal column. The demon cracked his neck and put his hand out to help her to her feet. "I hardly think it matters what they have to say afterward."

"Fair enough."

"You know," Xavier stepped out of the circle and went to lean against the closest wall, "we're more entertaining when we're not plastering sigils on hard-assed Halfling heroes. You're welcome here even when there's no deal to be made." The last part was carefully neutral.

"A dumb-ass death wish has nothing to do with heroism."

She'd meant for that to sound like a joke.

It didn't.

Royal raised an eyebrow. "Be that as it may, it wouldn't kill any of us isolated entities to be social on rare occasion."

"Uh huh, are you saying you want to do lunch sometime?"

Damn, her throat still kinda hurt. Royal paled and Xavier started laughing.

"God no," Royal said. "You eat like a frat boy."

"Tell you what, tough guy, you point me to a shower and I'll refrain from stuffing my face in your delicate presence."

"Done."

"As for the favor?" she prompted.

"Tell us after your shower and we'll call in the return at a later date," Xavier said.

She looked at him where he held up the wall. His eyes burnt like Caribbean skies and lines of tension etched the corners. Xavier's face was as handsome as ever, more so now that his emotions weren't on parade.

Poor bastard.

"You know the rules. As pretty as you boys are, there's a one-month time limit on reciprocation before it expires."

"Rest assured we are aware. I like debt too well to let it pass from my plate without incident," Royal said, pressing a firm hand against a stone wall. He pushed it into an endless luminescent hallway. "The shower is on your left."

"I'd be happy to ensure you don't get lost," Xavier offered, with a stretch that showed off his chiseled torso to its best advantage. A mildly lecherous teasing had crept back into his tone. Tian shook her head, comforted by the familiarity of his meaningless bullshit.

"I'll manage."

She gathered her clothes and trudged on unsteady legs down the corridor. In the bathroom she found a shower the size of her bedroom complete with sixteen inlaid shower heads. She dropped the armload of stuff on the floor, turned the spray on, and stood under the stream. She was still wearing the slip as the water pounded away at the evidence of misuse on her skin. It swirled in pink rivers down the drain. A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach indicated that she'd done something wrong or irrevocable. Danu only knew, that what had happened was probably both.

Tian studied the new markings embedded in her flesh. Elegant black lines etched a design at the outside of her right wrist while the inside of the left was the mirror image painted in gold. She tried to tell herself the markings didn't bother her. What the hell were two more additions to the ever increasing number of scars on her body?
It didn't work though.

****

Rachel took a trembling step back. Her makeup had started to run as if she'd spent an hour in a sauna. The effect was that her face had slipped a couple of inches. It took her almost a minute to recoup.

"You are an asshole," she hissed.

"Because I won't fuck you in a bathroom after watching a live impersonation of a snuff film?"

"Screw you."

Sio closed his eyes and got solid visual of a surreal sunset gaze accompanied by a shocking doll-like face marred by lines of scar tissue. Then he got another of the gout of blood spraying from an open neck wound. He was not in a good place. Never mind the fact that he'd never been so hard in his damn life. That made everything worse.

"I'm not interested." The words sounded hollow where they fell out of him. He tried to think of the last time he'd actually used that phrase.

Nope, couldn't pinpoint it.

Rachel's makeup-slicked expression turn incredulous. She took two stiff strides forward and smacked him hard in the face. He stood there, grinding his molars into dust and took the hit because he no doubt deserved it. That he also wanted the pain was something he tried not to think about. Even with the bruises it didn't really hurt.

Rachel leaned in on her tiptoes, which was impressive considering the five inch stilettos she was all but staggering around on, and sneered. "You're not even worth my time."

Sio nodded, not trusting himself to reply. Rachel moved to shove him, maybe get one last shot off before she bounced, but he grabbed her hands out of the air.

"I let you hit me once because you needed to get it out of your system. Don't push your luck," he said.

He could feel the bones of her wrists grinding together in his hands and it made him rabid. Sio kissed her knuckles even though the gesture made him want to vomit and let her go. She stood staring at him like she'd never seen him before. Her eyes were ripe with unshed tears. Rachel turned without a word and clacked herself out the door, purse in hand.

Sio slumped against the wall. Insanity did not bode well for his sense of tact. He should never have come tonight. On almost any other night he would've managed to get out of that altercation without pissing anyone off. Who was he kidding? On another night he would have taken the path of least resistance and banged her up against the counter, feeling dead inside like usual. The thought made his stomach roll. He wound up on the floor with his skull between his knees.

After an indefinite period of time fighting the dry heaves, a feather-light object pattered rhythmically against the top of his dropped dome. He looked up to find the epically proportioned red eyed female who had ushered his group inside at the beginning of the night. She was clutching a pale green shirt in one tiny fist and stroking his hair with the flat palm of her other hand as if he were a house pet.

"I would like to help you, Changeling." She had a sweet voice that was at odds with the shark tooth mouth piece she was rocking.

"Don't know how much help there is for me at this point."

It wasn't what he'd intended to say, but the woman smiled beatifically in response. The dimples gracing the corners of her cheeks made her look cherubic.

"You'll see," she said. She pushed the fisted garment towards his face. "You need clothes."

The statement was ironic considering what she wasn't wearing. She hadn't stopped petting the top of his head either, but he took the shirt.

"Thank you," Sio said. "This is expensive. How much do I owe you?"

"Silly Changeling, I don't accept because I don't trade. I choose. Royal will not miss it. He has many in that color he refuses to wear."

Sio looked her dead in the eye. "Why do you keep calling me changeling?"

The small female let out a high pitched peal of laughter that shook her not inconsiderable assets in his face. "Because you are a changeling, Changeling." She paused as if in thought and then asked, "You like the half-breed, don't you?"

"Half-breed," Sio parroted, trying to figure out what planet her train of thought was chugging down the tracks on. He wasn't sure how to deal with this mad hatter conversation, but he rolled with it anyway.

"Of course. She is dangerous, Changeling, but very desirable. Xavier desires her even though she is yours."

The statement conjured to mind yet another nude vision from the fireplace and in response a hard knot of possessiveness pulsed around his heart like a fist.
Mine.

Nope. He was not that guy.

"I have to get out of here," he told her.

The diminutive female leaned in with wide, excited rose red eyes. "I will open a door!" She made the proclamation with such exuberance it nearly jolted him out of the panicked sensation that had started to creep up his throat.

He threw on the shirt which was tight enough that it didn't button all the way and turned around in time to watch her open up a bathroom stall that led to the street. Sio got off his ass, grabbed his soaked castoff, and walked over to where she was standing.

"Thank you for everything..." he trailed off, not knowing her name.

"Zulpey," the little female supplied with a bright blank smile.

"Thank you for everything, Zulpey."

"You are welcome, Changeling."

He nodded, working up a mostly genuine smile, and escaped into the darkness looking like a seventies pimp and clutching a shirt covered in too many bodily fluids for comfort.

Tian made with the ambulation routine, her bare feet slapping against the gleaming marble. As a result, she found that she was entirely too pleased with her body's renewed ability to string together and follow basic motor commands. She wasn't right after the shower, but it was hard to expect that soap and water were about to fix anything. No amount of the shit was ever going to get her clean, so it was laughable that she still bothered.

She was back to being empty though, ambivalent about the recent physical incident. The recollection was just one more piece of data to add to the theory that her existence had split straight down the center. One side had devolved into the sporadic bouts of torture that tethered her to the earth, while the other made up the waiting room stretch between where she tried to avoid it.

She focused on the hollow thread because it meant she wasn't thinking about the sight of the male that had turned her inside out in the amphitheater. As far as that was concerned she wasn't nearly ambivalent enough. The memory was too sore to get anywhere near. She swallowed the flicker of fear that came on the coattails of her body's lingering involuntary response and forced dangerous subterranean currents into lockdown. They'd come bubbling to the surface later, because that's what trauma did, but for now she was all about coping...and getting the job done because that was what she was good for.

Tian aimed for the arc of buttery light coming from the half cracked door ahead of her. It swung open and the space revealed was a far cry from the one she'd abandoned on her knock-kneed trek to the shower. The swap wasn't a surprise. The Gates was the only place she was aware of outside of Tir Na Nog that shifted according to the whims of its masters. She walked into the room and her skin prickled as if she'd barreled through a threshold. The resulting physical sensation was both acute and uncomfortable. So was the realization that the Progeny's angelic half was lounging against the door frame, staring at her ass.

"You smell nice," Xavier said into her hair as he shut the door. He brushed past, chest lightly grazing her shoulder as he headed for one of the long leather couches that ran perpendicular to a sandstone fireplace dominating the far wall. To her right was a display of meticulously kept ancient weapons in various shapes and sizes. Neither of the Progeny seemed to notice that the room was opulent to the point of being ostentatious.