Authors: A. S. Fenichel
The Company’s small invading force eased down the tunnel toward the gate.
They stayed close, each with one hand on the shoulder of the hunter in front of them. Dorian was at Lillian’s back while Drake descended last.
At the cavern entrance, Lillian stopped, notched her arrow, and took a breath. Her hand shook, as did the rest of her. She forced her breathing to steady and relax in spite of her excitement over the coming battle.
The scene had not changed much. Several humans that had been there before were missing and others had taken their place, but the number appeared consistent. Staying in shadow, she took aim and pulled the trigger.
The arrow flashed across the room and lodged in the left eye of the durgot priest. His sword clattered to the stone floor, and he followed the weapon down with one last roar.
The priest fell, the other demons roared, and pandemonium erupted. Human victims ran screaming in every direction, some clutching their heads, some crying. The hunters jumped down the five feet drop and spread out around the room. Most attempted to herd the humans and calm them.
Drake Cullum picked up the abandoned broadsword and lopped the head off a trebox before skewering another through the gut.
Lillian dropped her crossbow into the holster at her hip in favor of her swords. Taking on a group of three trebox, she sliced the hand off the first one to approach. Black blood shot from the wound. Another bared its pointed teeth, and she responded in kind while carving him across the chest. She spun and cut a third across the throat.
The creature clutched his bleeding wound and fell to the floor.
Screams, both human and demon, resonated off the stone walls. The round cavern echoed with mind-bending noise.
The swirling gray and black in the gateway receded until only a roughly cut hole remained.
Lillian killed two more trebox.
The handless demon ran for the opening where they’d brought the replacement human earlier.
The rest of the demons lay dead along with three supplicants.
Dorian wiped his sword on the hooded cape of the durgot.
She called for him.
He turned and ran toward her as she bounded after the one who’d escaped.
Torches lit the cave. In an alcove, human bodies lay in a heap. Following the footfall and blood trail, she and Dorian gained ground on the injured trebox.
Cool air pushed toward them through the hot tunnel.
Lillian panted with the effort but called on her body for more. She reached toward the demon’s gray flesh. Her fingers grazed him.
He leaped away out of the open cave mouth. It dropped to a sheer cliff.
Lillian’s inertia carried her to the edge of the cliff looking down into the Firth of Forth. She wobbled, her toes losing their purchase on the edge. She waved her arms for balance, and Dorian pulled her back to safety.
The trebox soared downward. Silently, he fell toward his doom in the sea, his arms outstretched as if to embrace his end.
A whirling vortex of blackness opened, blocking the view to the sea below. The demon disappeared within, and then the distortion closed in on itself and was gone.
“What the hell was that?” Dorian asked.
“I do not know.”
“You hunters will pay.” The master’s voice boomed so loudly they had to hold their ears to dull the pain. “You do not know what you interfere with. I have come. I grow stronger. Power flows through my veins. You dare enter my sanctuaries and reap destruction. You take from me. I will take from you all you deem precious. Jump into the past realm and I will welcome you. I will not be so generous again. This new empire is mine.”
The vortex returned just below the cave.
Lillian and Dorian backed away from the edge.
“You’re threats have no meaning here. You are the master of nothing in this world,” Dorian said.
The laugh that erupted inside their heads brought them to their knees before it faded and the vortex closed.
They stood and walked back toward the cavern. All that remained was the dead.
On the surface, the supplicants moved like sleepwalkers and were directed into carts.
Once they cleared the area, she and Dorian returned home.
* * * *
Lillian retrieved the book she’d taken from the Shafton library. She scanned page after page.
Dorian’s arm slid possessively across her shoulder as he sat next to her in the study. “What are you looking for?”
“I saw something about prayer. I cannot remember what it was.”
“Are you worried about being killed or taken by the master?”
She turned away from the book.
Dorian’s eyes narrowed on her.
“I prefer the idea of death, but I am prepared for my fate whatever it may be as long as it is not in vain. I do not mind dying for this cause. You are worried about the master’s threats?”
“Not for myself. I am willing to die for the good of humanity as well. I could not bear to see you killed, Lilly.”
“This is war and we are soldiers. Loss of life is inevitable.”
He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “Yes. I know.”
His arms tightened around her, and she sighed into the embrace. Dorian Lambert was the first cocoon of safety in her life. He was as close to nirvana as she would ever come. “I accepted a long time ago, the few people I have grown attached to may fall in this war. I watched Belinda nearly die last year.”
“May I count myself among those with whom you have developed an attachment?”
Her chest ached. “I adore you, Dorian. As I hung over that abyss tonight, I thought how my heart has grown attached to you in the short time we have spent together, and I had never told you. If our circumstances were different, I would welcome your attention.”
He knelt next to her chair, gripping her hands. “Our circumstance could not be more different, Lilly. I have loved you since you were merely the subject of my brother’s letters, and I love you still today. I suspect I will go on loving you for the entirety of my life, however long that may be.”
“Thank you, Dorian.”
“Tell me, if we survive the next few days of insanity, you will become my wife.”
She trembled half with joy and half with terror. Had he lost his mind? She was the daughter of a seamstress who had sold her into prostitution. How could this nobleman want to marry her.
It was insane.
Crazier still was the fact she yearned to say yes. “I wish I could tell you I will.”
“You can. You only have to say yes and you will make me the happiest man in the world. You may be ripped away from me tomorrow or it might be me who is killed. If we belong to each other, I would have all that I want at the end of my life. Say yes, Lilly.”
“You are putting me in a difficult position between what I know I should do and what I want to do.”
“What do you want to do?” His voice hummed with intensity and shot directly to her heart.
A lie would save them both the embarrassment and heartbreak marriage brings to couples who eschew the demands of society. A lie might save her, but break her heart. “I want you.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his head into her belly.
He was everything good, and she’d never be worthy of him. She embraced him, cupping his head in her hand. Trembling, she combed her fingers through his shock of dark hair. “If we survive, I will marry you. Our lives are not our own in any other way. This at least shall belong to us.”
The sun streamed in through the windows as morning took over for night.
Dorian lifted his head, took her hands in his, and kissed them. Pure joy radiated from his face. “Thank you, Lilly. I’m going to make you very happy. I promise you that.”
They continued to read the book. He adored sitting side-by-side and working together. Lillian was intent on finding the passage about prayer, but his heart pounded and his stomach leaped with butterflies from the moment she had agreed to be his wife.
She had doubts. He’d assuage them. She feared society would reject her, him, or both. He’d sooth her fears, and over time, she would know destiny had brought them together.
“Here it is, written in the margin. This is not Shafton’s writing.” She read from the book. “Prayer, especially from the mouths of those with a beating heart and souls belonging to another, strengthens the underworld and thus the master.”
“How does this help us?”
“If there is something humans can do to strengthen their world, then perhaps there are things that will weaken it as well.”
“It is an interesting notion. Where do we begin?”
She rubbed her eyes. “With a few hours of sleep. Then we should make an appointment to see Mrs. Higginbotham. She may have some ideas.”
“I would like to go and see my mother and give her our happy news in person, if you do not mind.”
She grinned. “We can stop on the way back from visiting the witch, if you like. I do not think there will be any raids on demons tonight. There is too much data to analyze.”
“You really have no idea how happy you have made me.” Jumping with joy was not out of the question. If he hadn’t been so tired, he might have done so.
“I am quite happy too, and it is not a state I have found myself in very often.” She took his hand and led the way out of the study and up the stairs to his bedchamber.
The bath left for them had cooled while they continued to work, but they made good use of it to wash away the dust and grime of the night’s events.
Naked, she climbed into his bed and snugged her backside tight against his groin.
His cock jerked to attention and his heart thundered. “I want you.”
She pushed her bottom toward him and wiggled.
Pleasure spread from the contact of flesh on flesh. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
“I thought you were tired.” She giggled.
He slipped his arm around her and pinched her hard nipple until he elicited a whimper. “Are you going to marry me?”
“I am.”
“I may never sleep again.”
She laughed and rolled onto her back. “You will sleep when you are sated.”
He slid his hand along her flat stomach to the swell of her hips and down her creamy thighs. Lifting one of her legs, he maneuvered her so his shaft rested at her sweet spot.
Her moan heightened his pleasure.
Pressing forward only enough to feel her moisture on his swollen head was the sweetest torture. He slid his fingers between her folds and spread her wide.
Ecstasy trembled so close, but he longed to hear her scream his name. He used two fingers to circle the sensitive bud at her core.
Her hips pumped up and down, and her breath came in short gasps that fueled his excitement.
He ached to be inside her and pressed his hips forward while continuing his attention.
She gripped his upper arm until her short nails dug in.
The exquisite pain fueled him beyond energy reserves. He slid back and pressed forward again.
Lillian’s hips moved up and down in time with him.
Adding pressure with the movement of his fingers sent her over the edge, and her slit clutched at him.
It was heaven.
She screamed his name and her body milked him. He closed his eyes, pushed down the madness, and held off his own release.
Dorian wrapped his arms around her until the last wave of her pleasure passed. He rolled them so she lay atop him with his hard shaft still secure inside her.
Her hips rolled forward and she gripped his chest. Red curls shrouded her face and tickled his stomach, chest, and face with every sway of her body.
Torture combined with pleasure every time she engulfed his cock in warm wetness. He grabbed her breast and pinched the nipple.
Her pace quickened.
He slid his hand down until his thumb rubbed the distended bud between her legs. He could not hold on through another orgasm, and when she erupted, he exploded. Quaking with pleasure and joy, he clutched her thighs to keep her still. If she moved, it would be too much and he didn’t think he could take more. He gasped for breath and purchase on reality. She swept him away from everything outside what they did together. Magical.
Her sheath pulled at him and cries filled the room. She collapsed on his chest, burying him in soft tresses and warm flesh.
“You are magnificent, my Lilly.”
“Mmm. I feel magnificent when I am in your arms.”
He tightened his hold and gentled her to the mattress.
Her head remained on his chest and her legs entwined with his. He wanted to talk about her feelings and all they had done and seen, but sleep claimed him too soon.
* * * *
When Abigail Higginbotham opened her door to her small cottage outside of town, Dorian hid his surprise. She smiled and welcomed them into a small parlor. Frills and lace covered every surface. Paintings of every kind hung on every spare inch of the white walls. Porcelain trinkets adorned every table.
“I have just fixed a pot of tea. Will you join me?”
“That is very kind,” Lillian said.
He sat on a chair more suited to a child and covered in white lace. Certainly, at any moment he would find himself on the floor, in a tumble of broken wood and torn fabric.
Abigail poured the tea. “How may I help you?”
He was relieved to get right to the point and not have to bother with small talk. “There are a few things we hoped you might shed some light on. The demons seem to know our movements before we make them. Even last night, though we surprised the guards in the cave, the master was quick to respond and nearly pulled Lillian into his realm. Can we be further shielded from their view?”
Her eyes widened. “If what you say is true, there is little I can do. Someone within The Company is giving the master information.”
Lillian put her cup and saucer down. A runner of white fabric with pink stitching covered the small coffee table. “We have suspected as much. It means someone last night went and warned the master, but they did not have much time due to our quick response.”
“We will have to think about who might have had the opportunity. Since the hunters were all with us, it has to be someone else.”