Chapter Six

Lydia

Angelo bustled around the kitchen preparing hot chocolate for me and a cup full of (very) early morning coffee for himself.

He looked a little queasy, but when I asked him if he was alright, all he would mutter was, ‘sprouts.' Which, of course, meant absolutely nothing to me.

That just went to show you that it didn't matter where you lived or what species your roomie was, men were always going to be a mystery. As for myself, I didn't know what to say or what to think. I was still reeling from the nightmare visions I'd seen from Indigo's eyes—still trying to make sense of them, but finding it near impossible.

And Indie was suspiciously quiet. Not that I could blame her after what I'd witnessed.

When Angelo finally settled, he offered me a mug full of my drug of choice when things were going bad. I sipped at the steaming cup, feeling the last of my tension draining away on the tide of artificial sweeteners.

I did my best to keep my eyes on the mug, rather than on the man who'd just handed it to me. But, inevitably, my gaze lifted and then heat would rise into my cheeks every time I caught a glimpse of Angelo in his form-fitting ‘pajamas'. He was a big fan of leaving as little to the imagination as possible. And I'd thrown myself at him. It was too embarrassing for words. And that wasn't even the worst of it—no, that noble title was reserved for the fact that not only had I thrown myself at him, but he'd turned me down. Denied by the incubus who'd expressed his intent to seduce me from the moment we'd met…

Angelo set his mug down and faced me squarely, one hand folded over the other. "Just try to breathe, okay?"

I nodded, but said nothing, taking in shaky breaths between every sip of hot chocolate. The sun hadn't even risen yet. The sky outside was gray and purple with predawn light. Fog had settled into place like a curtain over Main Street, giving everything a gauzy edge.

"Thanks for, uh, waking me up," I managed.

He nodded but said nothing, pushing air shakily out of his mouth. "Tell me about your dream."

I had trouble meeting his eyes. I didn't want to tell him, and I didn't want to scribble this one down in the damn dream journal. If I could, I'd scoop the memory out of my head and cast it into the void where I would never see it again. But the truth was that there was no way to unsee what I'd seen and unlearn what I'd learned. There were still pieces missing and things I'd have to get Indigo to confirm, but the implications of what I'd seen were enough. And then there had been the standard nightmare fare—beasties trying and almost succeeding in killing her. That would have been nasty, but I could have lived with it. If what I'd seen was actually true, Indigo wasn't the person I'd thought she was.

Angelo sighed. "Okay, let's start off easy. Where were you? Hell? Is this about the auction again?"

My eyes stung with the effort it took not to cry. I'd had a handful of nightmares about that place. Bluebell and I had barely made it out of the black magic auction alive. She was staying with the witches in the coven house for now, until Angelo and Fifi could make a better living arrangement for us elsewhere in town. My loft was nice, but it was only designed for one. Angelo, Checkers, and I were already in cramped quarters. Add in a little faerie girl and we'd all be tripping over each other. The witches considered Bluebell as my daughter since I'd claimed her, and because I had witch magic, they'd claimed me. I wasn't an official member, but it earned my quasi-daughter a place to stay and that was enough for now.

The nightmares I'd been having were one of the big reasons I'd insisted she go. Bluebell liked to be close to me, but I didn't want to add more trauma to her already overflowing plate.

"Lydia, what did you see?"

"Um," I began, a quiver in my voice. My leg had begun to jiggle under the table, the way it sometimes did when I got nervous. The whole table was beginning to shake. "Cabin. Trees. A fireplace, I think. There was a woman. Her name was Susan."

Lydia, you can't tell him this.

Shut up, I hissed in her direction. If even half of what I think you did is true, you've lost all right to dictate who I let in on what's happening in my life.

I wasn't sure if it was my tone or the words themselves that did it, but she actually complied for once. She shut up, letting me stew in the unpleasant memories rising to the surface of my mind. They were still disturbing as hell, but when I was awake, I could view them from a third-person perspective, instead of living the first-person nightmare I had last night.

"Do you know a Susan?" He asked.

"No."

His eyes lit with understanding. "Ah. It was one of Indigo's memories then?" I nodded, and he continued. "You've been accessing those a lot lately."

I had, and I wasn't sure why. Indigo was as tight-lipped as ever about her past, and she had ways to guard her thoughts against me. I was pretty sure she had some control of her magic, even fused the way we were. Regardless, I was pretty sure she used that control to put up walls between her memories and mine. Occasionally things slipped through, but nothing as earth-shaking as this revelation. This wasn't just any memory. It was the memory. The beginning of the end of her loyalty to Murrain. The thing that had started her on the path that ended with me.

"What happened to Indigo in the memory?"

"She almost died. She went to see her friend Susan about..." I stuttered over the words. I wasn't sure how to describe what I'd witnessed or how to keep myself from breaking down when I did. "Something. They were attacked by monsters."

"What kind of monsters?" he asked, a small smile pulling up one edge of his gorgeous mouth. "You know that's a broad classification in our world."

A pang ran through me at his smile. He'd done the right thing in not having sex with me, against all odds, but damn it, part of me wished I'd had his mouth on me for just a little longer.

"Hounds... um... hellhounds, I think. Indigo's memories said that there were different kinds of breeds, but she wasn't sure which. They were huge... black... compound eyes... fire." I shuddered and reached up to massage my right shoulder. I swore I could feel phantom impressions where the teeth had been. "And teeth. So many teeth."

Angelo scooted his chair to my side of the table and, before I could protest, lifted me onto his lap. I wasn't exactly small, but he made me feel delicate and petite when he tucked my head under his chin, curling me like something tiny and precious against his chest. My heart started to hammer, and this time it had nothing to do with the nightmare.

"Hellhounds are nasty fuckers," he said. "If Indigo was mauled, I don't blame you for screaming. I'm just surprised she survived."

"She almost didn't. Susan was skilled in mirror walking and opened a portal for her just before she died. Indigo went to her family for help, and she must have pulled through... somehow." I forced a smile. It felt unnatural on my face. "I… I'm doing a lot of trailing off and rambling, aren't I?"

He smiled back, and the emotion was warm and genuine. And for once, it didn't feel like the smile was at my expense. "Yes, it's all very dramatic."

"Coming to theaters this summer, Lydia has a bad dream. It's a thriller folks, it's kept an entire household up all night," I joked, but I couldn't say I felt any humor.

"It's not just a bad dream," Angelo said, his smile slipping. "You know that. Whatever you witnessed was real, and it happened, and we should talk about it."

"I know."

But I didn't want to talk about it. I stared at the living room, or what passed for one in my loft. It was nice and bland. Beige carpet and slightly lighter beige walls. The couch was a pop of green among all the earth tones. Angelo had made himself a little nook next to the couch and kept his bedding draped over the back until evening. I'd laid claim to the armchair. The couch was so saturated with Angelo's scent that it was safer that way. He wasn't actively trying to snare me with his pheromones, but biology was biology. Smelling good was an excellent adaptation to have when you wanted to attract a mate. Or a dozen horny co-eds. Same thing, to an incubus, really.

"So, talk," he pressed.

"I liked it better when I thought you were just trying to get into my pants," I muttered darkly against his clavicle. Curled this close to him, his laughter vibrated through me.

"Oh, that's still on the agenda, but not tonight. Terror isn't exactly a turn-on. I mean, a little uncertainty or anxiety can be fun if you're on the kinky side and on the receiving end of the rough. But terror? No. That's not my thing. If you're going to use me shamelessly for sex, I'd like it to be under better circumstances."

It was all said in a light, teasing tone, but I still cringed. I had been trying to use him for sex. I wanted to escape my body for a little while. I needed to feel something other than revulsion. Knowing what Indigo had done made me feel tainted. Defiled. I just wanted to feel something pleasant.

"Sorry I woke you up," I mumbled. "I'm sure I'm a pain in your ass."

"You're saving me from hearing and likely witnessing my sister's wall-crushing sex with that sasquatch. Trust me, a nightmare or two isn't a hardship. Especially if I get to comfort you like this."

He pulled me even closer so that I could feel the heat of him through the satiny material of my nightgown, which he'd insisted I put back on. I was suddenly very aware of the lean contours of his body. He pressed a searing kiss to the skin of my neck and desire made my stomach clench so hard and unexpectedly that I gasped.

"No cheating," I hissed, swatting his shoulder.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Just trying to get the taste out of my mouth."

"The coffee is that bad?"

"It's not the coffee."

I frowned up at him. "Then?"

"It was your fear. You had too much of it and you were about to have a nervous breakdown. I had to do something and bedding you was out."

"Why was it out?" I didn't mean to ask the question, but it came out anyway.

"Because you would have hated me for it when you sobered up and I want more than one night with you. So, I did what I could."

"Which was what?"

"I siphoned the bad feelings out of you, but that's not really what I'm made to do, so I guess you could say I'm having a tough time with it."

"What do you mean by a tough time?"

He breathed in deeply. "There's a bad, a foul taste in my mouth now—the taste of your panic and your fear."

I dimly remembered Indie mentioning something about Reeper demons starting out as incubi a long time ago. Interbreeding with the lowest layers of infernals had transformed them into something different, but at the end of the day, they had to feed in a similar fashion, sucking life force from a victim. Some of the nastier ones turned to torture as a way to elicit the pain and fear they fed on. If Angelo had done what he'd said he had, it was... sweet. Kind. Not at all what I imagined a demon would do.

I turned in his arms so I could get a better look at him. "You... you ate my fear?"

"Yeah. Like I said, sprouts," he chuckled. "Technically edible, but not pleasant. Just trying to get a palate cleanser."

"You could ask for a kiss like a normal person."

He flashed me one of his wicked, devil-may-care grins. "Fine, may I kiss you?"

"You may."

"Do I get to choose where?" he teased. "Because I have a few ideas."

"Don't push your luck."

He laughed. I expected him to turn me in his arms and plant a wet one right on my lips. Instead, he pushed the strap of my nightgown down my arm, baring my shoulder. Cool air wafted over my shoulder just before his mouth closed on the tender skin. It wasn't much. Hell, it was practically chaste, considering who was touching me, but you wouldn't have guessed that from my body's reaction. I'd had sex that didn't feel half as good as Angelo's power pulsing through that one point of contact. Granted, it hadn't been an incredibly high bar to clear. Rodney had never been impressive in bed.

I caught Angelo's hand when it tried to wander. As much as I would have liked to continue this, it was treading dangerously close to the line.

"We can't."

"We could," he countered, "But we won't. And since we won't be spending the morning participating in my favorite activity, why don't we get back to the matter at hand?"

"The matter at hand?" I repeated innocently.

Angelo's look was chiding. "Lydia."

"Fine, fine, we'll talk. But I've already told you most of it. Indigo was nearly killed by the hellhounds."

"Yes, I get that, but the question is, why?"

My stomach gave an uneasy roll. There was the unpleasant truth again. I only had guesses until I could sit down and interrogate Indigo, but what I could glean from the memory sickened me.

"What do you mean, why?"

Angelo frowned, clearly put out with me. I got that look a lot around here. I was something of a rare bird. I was a gypsy, which meant I should have had more knowledge than most. I didn't. I looked like I had the powers of a witch (and I sort of did), but I wasn't one. I was dangerously ignorant of the world outside my door. If Indie hadn't come through mine, I might have stayed that way.

"Why are you frowning at me like that?" I asked.

"Because hellhounds don't just appear. They're not like spectral dogs that can pop up in graveyards, or places of death like morgues. Hellhounds live in... you know, Hell. Or in several close approximations, at any rate. It takes time and effort to breach the barriers between worlds."

"What are you saying?"

"That someone sent them. Someone powerful, and it wasn't that Murrain guy. He's got the magical muscle to do some serious damage, but he wasn't a demon. I'd sense it if he was. That means there's someone else involved—most likely a demon out there—someone who wanted Indigo dead."

"And it might come after me since I reek of her," I whispered as the realization dawned on me.

He nodded. "So, anything else you can recall would be great."

I darted a glance around the loft. The air felt hot, and the walls were too close. I could still remember how it felt to have something plow through drywall right next to my face. The carpets weren't tacky with blood, but I could practically smell it anyway.

"Not here," I said. "Could we... could we take a drive, please?"

Angelo set me on my feet with palpable reluctance. He scanned me from head to toe, smirking when he was through with his perusal.

"If you go out in that little number, you'll stop traffic."

"What little traffic there is in a Hollow before dawn," I drawled. "So no, I wouldn't be stopping much traffic at all."

"I'll be happy to provide the honking and wolf whistles if you like."

"Just get dressed and walk with me, Angelo. I have to be back to open the store in an hour."