Wicked Abyss
Page 71
“Worships?” Josephine made a hand-job gesture.
“Will you two have children?” Sian asked.
Rune nodded. “I warned her they’d likely be banebloods.”
Josephine said, “So I told him our kids would just have to find wicked-cool mates like their father did.”
“Mates? Though dark fey are so few?” Before Josephine, Rune had searched the worlds over for a female of his kind. If Sian and Calliope had children, would they be setting up their offspring for misery and loneliness?
Rune chuckled. “Hell, Sian, maybe your baneblood spawn will date ours.”
He’d never considered that.
Rune traced forward to slap his shoulder. “My sons could mate your daughters.”
Knowing his friend’s past with females, and already protective of any future daughters, Sian grated, “If your sons wish to die. . . .”
FORTY-SIX
Abyssian could sense whenever someone crossed the barrier into Pandemonia. Weirdly, Lila had gotten that sense not long ago, glancing up from her book. Though her ears had twitched like crazy, the hellcats all around her had snoozed without so much as a whisker twitch.
Either Lila was developing the Force, or her queenly gifts were expanding. Maybe she could do even more than reading Abyssian’s stray thoughts and seeing hallucinatory deer.
Tempted to go investigate, she closed her book—one of millions.
In their first week of marriage, Abyssian had told her he had a surprise for her. . . .
He traced her to a different part of the castle, squiring her through an arched double doorway. “This is the Tower of Learning.”
Her jaw dropped at what must be one of the largest book collections in the Lore.
Balconied landings were spaced every twenty feet or so, ringing the inside walls of the tower, with the center open. She could see straight up to a painted ceiling, soaring above them.
“You like your new library?”
“It’s unbelievable!”
“The tower holds nothing but books,” he said. “Most of them were in Demonish, so I implemented a spell for you. Whenever you enter, all the text will change to your tongue of choice.”
Guilt had dampened her excitement, her lies and secrets weighing on her. She’d nearly blurted, I know Demonish.
Damn it, she’d never expected to develop lasting feelings for Abyssian Infernas.
The temptation to confess everything continued to grow. Yet always, she would recall the tension at court on the heels of one of Rune’s assassinations.
Had she learned nothing from the past? Secrecy meant survival.
Take it from my parents. . . .
Part of her longed to grab Abyssian’s brutal demon face and say, “I want you. I want a future with you. I need to be honest with you.”
Another part of her would look in the mirror and say, “I want to live. I want a future. I need to protect myself.”
Would she feel differently once he claimed her? Would that bond them so much she could relax her guard and confess all?
One way to find out. She’d decided tonight was the night. She remained nervous about the actual deed, but she trusted him, and she didn’t want him to have to wait any longer. . . .
Stretching her arms over her head, she asked her heavy-lidded pets, “Should I investigate any new arrivals?” The hellcats were snuggled up with her on the comfy couch in the library’s reading den.
Purrrrrrr, they answered.
She’d released them into this tower. The little spazzes had gone nuts, treating the place like their personal jungle gym. But as long as they continued to go outside to do their business and didn’t shred any more books, all was well.
She’d even coaxed Chip and Dale to visit. After a tense introductory period with the cats, they’d gotten more comfortable. Presently they were napping in front of the den’s fire.
After peeling cats off herself, she made her way from the library to the candlelit corridor. Fluttering drafts made the flames dance. Shadows leapt.
Sometimes this mystical castle could be spooky as fuck. Earlier today, the Lôtn head had come back—for the third time—which meant it’d be staying. Great. She’d glared at the creepy head. “Are you happy now?”
Though her life in hell was turning out to be both provocative and dreamlike, part of her still longed for Sylvan—
Clickety-clack sounded from behind her. She pivoted around to find the fawn standing in the hall.
It blinked its lustrous eyes.
She often saw Bambi. Sometimes it followed her around the library, going still whenever she peeked over her shoulder, like a supernatural version of the red-light/green-light game.
Was Graven supplying this illusion? And if so, why?
She hadn’t told Abyssian about the fawn. It always disappeared right before he appeared, so she’d stayed mum, figuring what would one more secret hurt?
She still saw Bambi in dreams as well. Each time, it would bound toward the edge of that desolate cliff as some light blazed from below. No matter how much she urged the fawn to come to her, it headed right off the cliff.
Lila had no idea what the dream meant, but it made her hesitate to trust the creature now.
The fawn turned in the opposite direction, glancing back at her. Lila vacillated. . . .
Screw it. When Bambi started down the dim corridor, she trailed behind. She passed dozens of doors, each leading to one of Graven’s treasure-trove rooms. She and Abyssian had explored many of them, investigating chests of jewels, wardrobes, art, antiques, and more.
A couple of days ago, she’d modeled old-fashioned dresses for him, and they’d waged mock battles with weapons they’d found. “En garde, relic,” she’d cried as she launched a sword offensive with her speed.
He’d teleported behind her, lightly swatting her on the ass. “You still haven’t said no tracing.”
Later when he’d closed the door to the room behind them, he’d gruffly admitted, “I haven’t had this much fun since I was a boy. . . .”
He’d also shown her all over the dimension. After each dinner, he would trace her to some new wonder. He’d taken her to a woodsy glade where raindrops fell up and to an ancient temple made of solid gold. He’d introduced her to the hellhounds. . . .
The pack rushed to his side fresh from a hunt. She was baby-talking one of the puppies—“Who’s a cute doggy-woggy? You are!”—when it sneezed on her.
“Will you two have children?” Sian asked.
Rune nodded. “I warned her they’d likely be banebloods.”
Josephine said, “So I told him our kids would just have to find wicked-cool mates like their father did.”
“Mates? Though dark fey are so few?” Before Josephine, Rune had searched the worlds over for a female of his kind. If Sian and Calliope had children, would they be setting up their offspring for misery and loneliness?
Rune chuckled. “Hell, Sian, maybe your baneblood spawn will date ours.”
He’d never considered that.
Rune traced forward to slap his shoulder. “My sons could mate your daughters.”
Knowing his friend’s past with females, and already protective of any future daughters, Sian grated, “If your sons wish to die. . . .”
FORTY-SIX
Abyssian could sense whenever someone crossed the barrier into Pandemonia. Weirdly, Lila had gotten that sense not long ago, glancing up from her book. Though her ears had twitched like crazy, the hellcats all around her had snoozed without so much as a whisker twitch.
Either Lila was developing the Force, or her queenly gifts were expanding. Maybe she could do even more than reading Abyssian’s stray thoughts and seeing hallucinatory deer.
Tempted to go investigate, she closed her book—one of millions.
In their first week of marriage, Abyssian had told her he had a surprise for her. . . .
He traced her to a different part of the castle, squiring her through an arched double doorway. “This is the Tower of Learning.”
Her jaw dropped at what must be one of the largest book collections in the Lore.
Balconied landings were spaced every twenty feet or so, ringing the inside walls of the tower, with the center open. She could see straight up to a painted ceiling, soaring above them.
“You like your new library?”
“It’s unbelievable!”
“The tower holds nothing but books,” he said. “Most of them were in Demonish, so I implemented a spell for you. Whenever you enter, all the text will change to your tongue of choice.”
Guilt had dampened her excitement, her lies and secrets weighing on her. She’d nearly blurted, I know Demonish.
Damn it, she’d never expected to develop lasting feelings for Abyssian Infernas.
The temptation to confess everything continued to grow. Yet always, she would recall the tension at court on the heels of one of Rune’s assassinations.
Had she learned nothing from the past? Secrecy meant survival.
Take it from my parents. . . .
Part of her longed to grab Abyssian’s brutal demon face and say, “I want you. I want a future with you. I need to be honest with you.”
Another part of her would look in the mirror and say, “I want to live. I want a future. I need to protect myself.”
Would she feel differently once he claimed her? Would that bond them so much she could relax her guard and confess all?
One way to find out. She’d decided tonight was the night. She remained nervous about the actual deed, but she trusted him, and she didn’t want him to have to wait any longer. . . .
Stretching her arms over her head, she asked her heavy-lidded pets, “Should I investigate any new arrivals?” The hellcats were snuggled up with her on the comfy couch in the library’s reading den.
Purrrrrrr, they answered.
She’d released them into this tower. The little spazzes had gone nuts, treating the place like their personal jungle gym. But as long as they continued to go outside to do their business and didn’t shred any more books, all was well.
She’d even coaxed Chip and Dale to visit. After a tense introductory period with the cats, they’d gotten more comfortable. Presently they were napping in front of the den’s fire.
After peeling cats off herself, she made her way from the library to the candlelit corridor. Fluttering drafts made the flames dance. Shadows leapt.
Sometimes this mystical castle could be spooky as fuck. Earlier today, the Lôtn head had come back—for the third time—which meant it’d be staying. Great. She’d glared at the creepy head. “Are you happy now?”
Though her life in hell was turning out to be both provocative and dreamlike, part of her still longed for Sylvan—
Clickety-clack sounded from behind her. She pivoted around to find the fawn standing in the hall.
It blinked its lustrous eyes.
She often saw Bambi. Sometimes it followed her around the library, going still whenever she peeked over her shoulder, like a supernatural version of the red-light/green-light game.
Was Graven supplying this illusion? And if so, why?
She hadn’t told Abyssian about the fawn. It always disappeared right before he appeared, so she’d stayed mum, figuring what would one more secret hurt?
She still saw Bambi in dreams as well. Each time, it would bound toward the edge of that desolate cliff as some light blazed from below. No matter how much she urged the fawn to come to her, it headed right off the cliff.
Lila had no idea what the dream meant, but it made her hesitate to trust the creature now.
The fawn turned in the opposite direction, glancing back at her. Lila vacillated. . . .
Screw it. When Bambi started down the dim corridor, she trailed behind. She passed dozens of doors, each leading to one of Graven’s treasure-trove rooms. She and Abyssian had explored many of them, investigating chests of jewels, wardrobes, art, antiques, and more.
A couple of days ago, she’d modeled old-fashioned dresses for him, and they’d waged mock battles with weapons they’d found. “En garde, relic,” she’d cried as she launched a sword offensive with her speed.
He’d teleported behind her, lightly swatting her on the ass. “You still haven’t said no tracing.”
Later when he’d closed the door to the room behind them, he’d gruffly admitted, “I haven’t had this much fun since I was a boy. . . .”
He’d also shown her all over the dimension. After each dinner, he would trace her to some new wonder. He’d taken her to a woodsy glade where raindrops fell up and to an ancient temple made of solid gold. He’d introduced her to the hellhounds. . . .
The pack rushed to his side fresh from a hunt. She was baby-talking one of the puppies—“Who’s a cute doggy-woggy? You are!”—when it sneezed on her.
