Soulstone Ch. 02

Altogether inconvenient sensations in a fight.

She rolled off him, kicking crab-like demons that nipped at her boots.

Their shells broke with satisfying crunches and caustic orange ichor squirted out. Gross.

A fat, blobby thing like a deformed squid plopped onto her face and forced cold, hungry tentacles into her mouth.

Ugh.

She spat and fumbled, but it wouldn't let go. Scathe flung it aside. It hit a nearby wall and popped. Maggots exploded from its corpse.

"Nice." Eirienna spat the sour taste out.

The incubus dragged her to her feet in a cloud of black demon smoke. "You're welcome."

Eirienna yanked free. "Did I ask for help?"

"Suit yourself." He held up his hands in mock surrender and stood by, watching as a slithering snake-monster dove for her throat, nearly knocking her flat. She hacked at it with her blade until it fell dead.

Screams and howls tore from the ragged hole in the portal. Eirienna fired a burst of sparks in a web meant to draw the portal closed, but the hole ripped wider before her magic landed. Her net sailed through to the other side.

She cursed, and green flames spat from her blade. "Crawl back to hell, incubus. I've got work to do."

The evil crab creatures stabbed wildly at Scathe's face, their claws like daggers. He swept them aside with sibilant words in some black language that incinerated the monsters to ash and seared Eirienna's face with radiant heat.

"Fodder of the Empress," Scathe called. "Call a truce for now?"

The minions were attacking him? That made no sense. As a higher demon, he should command them. But his words flashed back to her.

We have a common enemy.

Had his own kind turned on him? Or he on them? No time to figure it out. There were dozens of the damned demi-demons. Even if this was a trick to get her to trust him, to sell it, he'd have to help her. Even she would have trouble with so many things to kill so quickly.

"You want a truce? Show me what you got." Eirienna whirled and conjured a matrix of green sparks, wrapping it around herself to make a flaming cage.

Scathe's back slammed into hers. She threw up a shield against him, but their magics didn't collide. They merged. Her shield enveloped him in a protective embrace, her sparks intermingling with his shadows.

What the -- The accompanying sensation rolled over her like a shock wave, building low in her belly, deeper, higher, tighter, and hotter. She exhaled in almost a moan.

Damn, the son of a bitch was powerful. Mingling with him was like nothing she'd ever felt. Not with another Hunter. Not with the rough-scarred Faes she'd picked up in bars for their coarse powers.

Not with anyone.

"Damn, baby." Scathe's lustful growl vibrated through her. "You can sparkle my shadows any time."

She gritted her teeth, her skin tingling. To have this demon at her back was exciting, threatening...yet somehow safe. Everything it shouldn't be.

"Don't. Call. Me. Baby."

She wove her sparks tighter, ready to fight.

CHAPTER SEVEN

SCATHE

Scathe laughed as he readied to fight. She thought when he said Bæbëi he was calling her baby. Her annoyance at the human pet name fired her temper every time.

Maybe he'd explain later. Although, maybe not. She was more fun riled up. It was probably better she remained unaware of what the word meant.

Fat, ugly dragonflies swarmed them, curved stingers dripping emerald venom. He slashed them with his blade. The ones he missed hit the cage of mingled magics and disintegrated with screeches and puffs of stinking smoke.

The larger demi-demons hung back and watched the carnage, grunting and clattering their twisted claws. They re-formed themselves into a seven-headed serpent with greasy bat wings and curved teeth, then attacked.

Scathe swore, and black flames ringed his blade. "Determined little bastards, aren't they?"

"They're your friends."

"No friends of mine, I assure you."

"So you say." Eirienna circled, and he circled with her. They fought back-to-back, blades whipping. She shook demon goo that bubbled and smoked from her wooden blade.

Without his soul augmenting her spells, her sword would be eaten away in seconds. Serpent heads tumbled. Ichor splashed the walls, creating smoking graffiti.

His shadows caressed her skin. Protecting her. Her magic danced over him. Blood pumping. Her back against his. The adrenalin, anticipation, and hint of arousal pouring off her.

Everything combined into a cocktail with the sugar-sweet tang of battle.

The remaining serpent heads reared as one and roared in triumph. His senses flashed a warning. "Look out!"

The portal ripped wider, with a sound like tearing skin, and an obese, squid-like blob the size of a sofa squirmed out, hitting the ground with a squelch. The serpents thrashed their rattling tails. A stink of rotten flesh clotted the air.

Eirienna hissed, fangs bared.

Scathe snarled and hurled himself at the invader, his body morphing into a black shadow spear. He sliced through the air and struck true. The demon's skin tore, bleeding orange acid as it wailed and thrashed.

Like a rubber band, the creature stretched. Thinned and elongated into a fat white wyrm that snapped its fanged jaws and reared back to strike.

Eirienna sprang at the wall. Hit it with her feet. Ran along it, six feet up, dragging at the torn portal with invisible magical force for support. She leapt upon the slimy wyrm, and slashed it in half.

Ichor splashed. She dodged, and the liquid sizzled onto the bricks. She rolled to her feet, sparks showering. The wyrm screeched, its two halves writhing.

He so loved watching her work. "Heads or tails?" Scathe coalesced, hitting the pavement on two feet. Dragonflies nipped at his face, and he swiped at them with a bloody curse.

"What?"

"Tail's yours!"

As a shadow, he dove for the snapping head, wrapping his hands around its narrow jaws and squeezing. The wyrm's milky eyeballs popped.

Wicked, jagged teeth erupted from his shadow jaws, and he bit its head off. The body flopped dead in his grip. He spat the head out and burned the demon's blood from his lips with a spell, tucking his teeth away.

Eirienna gaped at him. He materialized and pointed to the escaping tail half. If any part of the wyrm escaped, it would regenerate.

She sprinted after it, grabbed the tail in the crook of her elbow, and yanked. It stretched, wriggling for the rift, but popped back with a snap. She stabbed deep with her sword, sending branches out. Blood oozed from multiple exit wounds.

Scathe sliced off two more snake heads about to lunge for Eirienna's back.

Her talisman flared, and her blade burst into flame. The wyrm's tail crisped like barbecued eel and fell to the ground, dead, already disintegrating into nothing.

He would have to see about getting some spells for his sword.

The remaining minions screamed and scuttled for the rift.

Eirienna threw sparks after them. The creatures squealed. Clutching her talisman, she wove another webbing spell.

Scathe added his magic to hers. The demi-demons had retreated, but if this breach wasn't patched, he'd be stuck here all night, and he had other plans for his Fae.

With his boost to her magic, the strands grew thicker and more flexible with shadowy tendrils. Together, they hurled the spellwork onto the rift. This time it stuck. The portal knit.

For now.

Scathe's bold, black gaze caught hers. He wasn't kidding about a fight before a fuck. His body clamored with the pleasure of mingling with her magic.

She stared back, equally hungry, and sheathed her sword.

"You fight well, Bæbëi." He gave her an arrogant smile and sauntered closer to her.

Eirienna was breathing hard, bare arms covered with sweat. Her red hair glowed, luminous within his dancing shadows and magic.

She backed off, pulse throbbing hard. "You, too. For demon scum."

"A mutual appreciation society. How nice." He closed the distance. She stepped back again. Her back hit the rough brick wall. There was nowhere else for her to go.

He planted one hand on either side of her head. Déjà vu. "Heed my words, Hunter," he purred. "Are you listening?"

"I don't --"

"That was a yes or no question."

She licked dry lips. "Yes. I'm listening."

"Pay attention, then. The Empress herself is planning to come here in a mass incursion."

Her eyes went wide. "The Empress? The Wild Hunt knew something big was coming... But the Empress herself? With legions of soul-hungry minions?"

"Yes. I'd rather she didn't succeed. So I'm offering you a deal."

"You expect me to believe you're a traitor to your Empress?" Her hand closed around the soulstone again.

She did that a lot. A nervous tell? Did she actually derive comfort from his soul? Both? Neither?

Scathe shrugged. "We have a...let's call it a personality conflict." Centuries of resentment rose, his confident demeanor slipping. He fought to regain his equilibrium and nonchalance.

"Suppose I believe you." She yanked her hand away from the soulstone and her eyes suddenly clouded. "You want me to do what?"

"Find the traitor, Hunter. Someone is helping the Empress. We both have reason to want the traitor dead. I believe I've proved my credentials."

"I don't need your help."

"Really?" A smug grin. "You deal with demi-demons handily enough. I've seen your fire spells. Very tasty. But I can kill demons, Eirienna, including the Empress. It's what I was born for."

"I can kill them, too." Her hand went to the soulstone.

Not without his help in some form. Only the strongest Fae, or multiple Fae acting in concert could truly kill a demon.

"You think so?" He chuckled. "With their powers, and centuries worth of grudge against The Wild Hunt?"

She gazed back, defiant. "Why do you want to help us?"

"Well, you'd be helping me. Any benefit to the Fae is incidental."

"Oh, so I'm not the one who needs assistance."

He smirked. "It's difficult to be subtle when you're like me."

"Oh? And how's that?" Her eyes had lost the haunted look and gleamed in challenge.

His eyes glinted. "Spectacularly powerful."