THE SEER

BAYOU BISHOPS 4

By: Lucian Bane

© 2022 by Lucian Bane
All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Lucian Bane or his legal representative.

To all the readers, fans, and/or reader’s clubs, thank you for supporting my work. I’d also like to ask nicely that you please not pirate my work. That basically means don’t give it away just because you bought it. 

If you need a different format, please contact me, the author. 

Dedicated to all my romantic fans. Thank you for helping me build this story.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter One

Interesting. The Holy One and The Poison Devil.

The strange match-up was cause for a hefty vial of curious suspicion. Fate grunted or smirked when it looked Lesion’s way, and now it was smiling. Not at him, but The Holy One, he was sure.

But why such a match? What was fate up to now? First their Eveque finds love, then said love casts some noxious spell on the lot of them, plucking them from peaceful celibacy and planting them into blind marriages with strangers. Lesion was steeped in the process of uncovering what type of lunacy the swamp was entrapped in and realized he was being given an opportunity. Regardless of fate’s intentions, he’d gather as much as he could from The Seer and his Eveque and add it to his findings for an antidote.

What aspect of his expertise did Revelator need was the curious thing. The Seer was the tracker. That he asked him to bring an arsenal of anodynes meant he didn’t intend to sedate her and drag her back, which begged the question, what sort of fuck was he headed to? The kind that allowed him to test the new tricks up his apothecary sleeve, maybe. The ones that required human subjects for testing, something Lesion had a difficult time procuring outside of war.

Fate may not be smiling right at him, but Lesion didn’t mind standing just behind The Seer and catching a ray off its fussy grin.    

Lesion put it all aside and packed for the trip. He’d go light but lethal with a dash of humanity for those not requiring eternal sleep in under a minute.

****

The second he realized Cherie was missing, Revelator’s gifts exploded in ways he’d never experienced. The surprise of being able to taste her scent made him forget his gift of touch, costing him precious time. It wasn’t until Bishop agreed to come with him that he remembered his dominant gift and hurried back in the diner where he frisked every person there for clues while Bishop followed him apologies and vague explanations. He approached the last waitress who held up both hands with a worried look as he grabbed her shoulders and froze. Closing his eyes, he realized. “You saw her,” he whispered, focusing harder. “She entered the kitchen and left out the back door.” He moved her aside and followed the path Cherie took. Out back, he searched for more clues, his bones humming with a building chaos.

“Anything?”

He spun to Bishop and shook his head, unable to unhinge his jaw.

“What about the things she touched, her fork, her cup.”

Revelator shoved past him and hurried back to their table. “Don’t touch it!” he yelled at the waitress clearing it. It was the same lady he’d just groped and she again stepped back with her hands up while Bishop thanked her for being so understanding.

Revelator sat in her chair and brought her coffee cup to his mouth and closed his eyes, moving it along his lips. At encountering her taste, his pulse boomed in his head, her essence moving along that miraculous conduit inside him. Panic shot him out of the seat and hurried him out the diner.

“What did you see?” Bishop demanded as he followed him to the truck.

“I saw her intentions,” he said, climbing in and starting the truck. “She’d planned to call her father and use his fucking mercy to determine her next move.” He threw gravel as he headed toward the Dry Dock for Lesion. “If he didn’t show her mercy, then it meant she needed to face her past and quit running.”

“What does that mean?” Bishop wondered, clicking his seat belt in.

“It means she’s going to New Orleans and turning herself in to those demons.”

“Fuck,” Bishop said.

“She’s been a walking guilt-fest from the day we met. How I didn’t see her doing this is what you should be dumbfounded over. She needed mercy one second and punishment the next. But with me she forgot her past long enough to taste mercy and she loved it. And I loved giving it, I loved what I knew, what I sensed, what I saw, what I didn’t see. I loved her and she…”

Silence hovered in the air like doom. “She loved you,” Bishop finally muttered, making Revelator need to kill something for the beautiful, painful truth.

“She left.” Fresh anger mixed with his panic and the concoction made him want to vomit. “I won’t forgive her for that easily,” he assured, shaking his head.

“You can figure all that out when you get her back.”

“We had a deal and she broke it. I didn’t kill that demon vessel and she agreed to stay. I was going to get to the bottom of her pit of lies and show her the truth. There’s no mess she’s made that God can’t clean up.”

“You can still show her that.”

“And what if she doesn’t want that?” Revelator had to voice the thing fueling his fears.

“When snatching one from the fires, we don’t usually wait for permission.”

Relief hit him and Revelator nodded. “My thoughts exactly. She’s coming whether she wants to or not. If she still wants to leave after that, then I’ll find a safe place she can go and start over.”

The idea that she may not want to stay ate at him but he wouldn’t give it more energy than he already had. She was a smart woman but she was also very confused and hurt and even scared about her past. “Can you check with 8-Bit and let him know to keep digging. I need to know what crimes she’s committed, what the fuck I’m up against.”

“What we’re up against. You’re not alone in this, your problems are the whole Hordes’ problems.”

And he couldn’t thank God enough for that. Revelator had been alone all his life in his conflicts but this one was different. It was more than him, bigger than him, and he’d take every help offered when it came to Cherie. She was a moving target, a shooting star he had to snatch before he lost her to that dark vortex she’d just foolishly dove into.

****

 Lesion wasn’t sure how he’d feel about being on a job with the Holy One and The Eveque, and after tossing his things in the back and settling between the two of them, he decided definitely odd. Those men were two opposing properties that worked with a volatile perfection within certain chemical parameters. Lesion felt like he was serving as that parameter.  

“What’s the plan?” Lesion asked as the truck sped at an urgent velocity.

“New Orleans,” Revelator muttered. “Thanks for coming on short notice.”

“Can use a break from the swamp air.” The half-truth applied more in the change of scenery for his work, otherwise, the swamp air was his life force. “What’s in New Orleans?”

“Where I think she’s headed. Previous contacts and work. Did Bishop fill you in?”

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted him to know,” Bishop said.

Lesion listened as Revelator informed that they were headed into the devil’s lair to fetch a maiden in distress regardless if said maiden wanted rescuing. As the details came, his mind organized his potions accordingly. Persuasive potions for procuring information, and a concoction for subduing his woman. Then there were his favorites. Paralysis then a very painful entry into eternal rest.  

He'd packed more than was needed in case fate decided to get dramatic on him. The Hag ingrained the unexpected throughout his lessons. How does one prepare for the unexpected? By not expecting it, of course. It was a backwards art. Like seeing everything by not looking at anything.

****

A sick dread brought Cherie’s heart to a wild tempo as she waited for Darius in his private room at the top of The Bijou Noir. Why did she go there? What was she expecting to happen? Nothing good would come to her from the likes of Darius.

The permanent lump of grief in her throat made it hard to breathe. Unshed tears filled her eyes as her father’s merciless judgment and biting rejection cut new grooves in her heart.

The door opened and stole her breath. Too late. Everything was too late.

The pain driving a rod of fearlessness through her backbone turned to ash as the man of her nightmares entered like silent death behind her.

Finish it. You have to finish it.

She held her spine straight, flinching at the glide of his cold finger along her cheek. He stopped next to her and she looked up at him through unshed tears.

“My sweet decadent Cherie.”

The icy silk greeting with his ghostly smile made his face haunting. “Darius,” she whispered, following his graceful stride around his boat-sized desk. He hadn’t changed. The gold and scarlet tie with his black suit was a small part of what made him the Creole King. The rest of that reputation was found in the sad remains of his Belle Esclaves De Amor, both living and dead. She’d once been counted among his best and he’d not been happy that she’d left. She wasn’t even sure if he even cared that she killed a customer. Rumor had it she was his favorite but what that meant to a man like him Cherie never wanted to learn. But she was about to.

After he sat at his desk, his dark gaze immediately imprisoned her. “Oh, how I missed you.” He added a tsk with the barest shake of his head, the first hint of his disapproval.

“I’m here to explain.”

A single brow rose but it was all mock.

“The man I killed…he tried to hurt me. I was defending myself.” It was part true. He was a sadist, pushing the boundaries. She hated the man and what he’d stood for and pain in sex was a trigger. “I have…things in my past that resulted in trauma and anytime somebody hurts me, I…”

“Kill them?”

His amused half smile didn’t reach his dark eyes. They weren’t calculating, they were already decided. There was nothing to calculate other than the particulars of what he’d determined, whatever it was.

“I’m here to pay you back what I owe.”

“Such a brave Belle Esclave. I always did like you, Cherie. You knew this, yes?”

She nodded a little, swallowing.

“It broke my heart when you did this,” he added.

His heart was in his pride and pocketbook. She didn’t imagine she’d made him a ton of money, so she must’ve taken a mighty chunk out of his pride. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, able to hold his gaze only because of what she was sorry for. Surely not any pain she’d caused him. At that moment, she allowed it to be for Samuel. She allowed herself to imagine his pain and the tears fell silently without effort. As if her heart had always been his. Her beautiful angel of the bayou that tried so hard to save her.

Darius rose to his feet and came to her. He knelt before her chair, his soft shhhh’s sending shivers of dread along her skin. “Of course I will take you back. Such a risk you have taken Ma Belle Esclave. Returning here so bravely. But you have committed a grave crime. And I cannot let it go unpunished. You know I am a man of fairness. Eye for an eye. But since you are one of my special ones, I will make an exception, yes?”

She forced herself to look at him and nodded. “Whatever you think is just and fair,” she barely whispered, praying the man would have a rare moment of mercy.

She closed her eyes when he took her face in his cold hands, making her shiver. “I think the man you killed suffered a lot of pain. And you should at least repay this, yes?”

Her stomach clenched, making her breaths shallow. She gave the only thing there was to give. “Yes.”

“Do not worry Ma Belle Esclave,” he cooed. “I will raise you to the top again.” He sucked in an excited breath, his dark eyes brightening. “You, Cherie, will become the first Queen of The Dark Den. Reine De L'antre Sombre.”

Darius giggled when she gasped on sheer terror.

“Don’t look so horrified, Ma Belle Esclave. You are stronger than you give yourself credit. All these issues in your past that make you do these terrible things to people will be purged away. You will be free,” he whispered, sliding his thumb over her cheek, smearing the tears. “Pain and suffering will become your second skin. And your sins and fears will all be washed away. You will be… a brand new spotless angel in my courts.”

The final words of her sentencing were given in breathless reverence for all that is evil. The Dark Den. That’s where mercy and forgiveness was taking her. To the ugliest hell where the worst of New Orleans Sadists played. The women he fed to that darkness were eventually spit out amongst the living, broken beyond recognition. The rest were devoured whole, never to be seen again.

Oh God, what have I done?

Chapter Two

Revelator had wondered what the faint tug would amount to in his gut, and the closer he got to New Orleans, the harder the tug got. But was it her or something else? It was made up of nothing but evil and put a constant need to retch in his stomach. He couldn’t remember a time he was affected that way and had to believe she was why.

He remembered Maggie and how she tried to show him something that night at the Bat-tie. He’d been worried about the wrong things, namely not digging into Cherie’s past without her permission. But what if there had been something about this? What if he could’ve prevented this?

As the Black Bastard devoured the miles in a growling silence, the question burned Revelator’s gut. “Maggie tried to show me something about Cherie that night at the Bat-tie,” he finally said. “She started to and I stopped her before she could finish.”

“I remember,” Bishop said. “But more like Cherie stopped her.”

“Because I needed her to stop. Cherie was…my protector that night.” Revelator’s chest suddenly trapped his breath.

“Let me drive so you can chew on this without distractions,” Bishop urged. “Seems important.”

Revelator pulled over, wondering why he hadn’t done that to begin with. He was too close to this. The usual discernment and wisdom he had in missing person situations was fucking nowhere to be found when he wanted it the most.

He allowed Lesion to sit near the door, wanting the men on either side of him. Both had reservoirs of strength that seemed to keep his power from getting more reckless inside him. He was already on a ledge he’d never been on and wasn’t sure what would happen if he lost control. He wasn’t even sure who or what was in control. Him or the power. He couldn’t tell and he needed to pray that God took control. He wasn’t fit to control anything.

“Where do you think we’re headed exactly?” Bishop asked, back on the road.

“I keep hearing that name. Lazarus John Gerth.”

“The dead one?”

He gave a slow headshake. “Not so sure he’s dead.”

“You said they’re hunting her for his death.”

“I did. But something’s off about that. Hoping the closer we get, the more I know.”

Revelator glanced at Lesion, again feeling it in his spirit. “What troubles you, Medicine Man?”

His tattooed brow raised slightly, almost in surprise. “Nothing requiring words, Holy One.”

Holy One. Revelator detected no animosity in that title and was now more curious about him. He knew only the basics of his life but sitting next to him for even five minutes said he had things about him requiring a handshake.

“We never officially met,” the man said as Revelator struggled to recall his Christian name.

“Leandro Dutch Bourgeois,” Revelator remembered.

This got a chuckle. “I was about to ask who that was. Been a long time since I’ve heard those names.”

Revelator understood that. “How’s…”

“The Hag?”

“I was trying to recall her name.”

“I have no idea,” he said, surprising Revelator. “She refuses to tell. I stopped caring.”

“So what do you call her?” Bishop wondered. “Hag?”

“Heavens no,” Lesion said. “I call her Madam Hag.”

Bishop’s gut laugh brought Revelator’s grin despite his turmoil.

“It’s our truce,” Lesion said.

“I need to visit,” Revelator said.

“So what’s the real story,” Bishop said, glancing past Revelator at Lesion. “How’d you come by your trade name?”

Lesion held his arms out, turning them. “These sly inky snakes hide the truth. I was an over-eager apprentice with no test subjects but myself.”

“Damn,” Bishop muttered. “That’s what I call dedication. Just your arms?”

Lesion gave a light chuckle. “What do you think?”

“Seriously?” Bishop said, grinning.

“My body was a scratch sheet of paper for my work. I used every available inch. That I could reach.”

“Holy shit,” Bishop muttered. “Even your…”

“The unseen places were used first.”

Bishop’s head barely shook as he glanced at Lesion. “And these inky asps, they’re…”

“Everywhere.”

“Why asps?” Revelator wondered.

Lesion shrugged. “Asp singular. Sheila grew with my trials. I don’t consider them failures, but processes. With each lesion, she got longer. Her skin holds the number of processes and names for many tested protocols.”

“Wow,” Bishop muttered. “If you don’t mind me asking, how many people know you have a body long snake named Sheila?”

“Madame Hag and me.” He angled his head at them. “And now you two.” He looked ahead again. “Not really a topic that ever comes up in my line of mostly solitary work.”

“Right,” Bishop muttered, glancing at Revelator then back at the road. “I often wondered what those numbers meant.”

Revelator caught part of what troubled Lesion. “We’re not sure what we’re going up against here but whatever you brought along, use it as the good Lord leads.”

“I do have new things that require test subjects,” Lesion said, pushing carefully into his words.

“I’m sure we’ll come across plenty of demons happy to volunteer,” Revelator assured, as the need to shake his hand grew.

“A permanent test subject would be…very useful. If it so happens that fate’s smile turns upside down on a soul in need of purging for redemption, that is.”

This got another big laugh from Bishop. “Fate’s smile turned upside down. She can be a sourpuss when she wants to be.”

“She has a method to her madness,” Lesion said, surprising Revelator.

“Madam Hag taught you good things,” he said.

“She did. But a lot of my life wisdom comes from Sheila. She passed on a secret with every lesion.”

“So…what did you do when you ran out of scratch paper?” Revelator asked.

“The skin lesions are childhood elementary lessons. I graduated and built an actual lab for testing. Animal trials are easy to come by, but the human test subjects are always in short supply and high demand.”

Revelator finally stuck out his hand, ready to see what he could see with his newest peculiar friend. “Like you said, we never officially met.”

He watched Lesion eye his hand then aim a grin at him. “I’ll show you the inside of my skin if you show me yours.”

Revelator didn’t lower his hand as he wondered what that meant. “You’re welcome to see whatever you can see. My insides are an open book to whoever can read them.”

Lesion eyed his outstretched hand and gave his right one, grasping Revelator tightly while meeting his gaze. “Only exceptional gift I have is the one you gave me.”

The second he said it, Revelator remembered. “You’re the kid from the well.”

“I am.”

“What well?” Bishop wondered.

Revelator had already taken a swan dive in, closing his eyes. “You were trapped and couldn’t get out.”

“And you told me to retrace my steps in.”

“And you did,” Revelator remembered. He opened his eyes, meeting the young man’s twinkling gaze and smile.

“That gift served me in my studies. Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a gift son, it was simple wisdom,” Revelator said. “Show me what it taught you, Healer.”

Lesion turned Revelator’s hand over and dragged one of his pointed nails along his wrist then brought it to his nose. He closed his eyes, smelling for many seconds. “Hm,” he mumbled, opening his jacket and pulling out a leather roll. Laying it on his lap he opened it and drew out a small bottle from a pocket and removed the cork. “Smell this,” he said, bringing the container to his nose. “Deep whiff.”

Revelator did, closing his eyes.

“Now this one,” he said, bringing a second bottle to his nose. “Another deep whiff.”

This one brought on sneezing while Lesion counted them on his fingers. “Seven,” he said when Revelator was done. “Tell me what Maggie showed you at the Bat-tie.”

The question brought the moment back in his mind, only this time there were no dark spots in his memory. Maggie had shown him more and he’d missed seeing it but it was still there. He opened his eyes and turned to Bishop. “She didn’t kill Lazarus. It’s a prophesy they believe will happen. Lazarus is one of the coven leaders.” Revelator turned to Lesion, now tying his leather roll shut. “How the hell did you do that?”

He slipped his leather roll in his jacket. “I can smell when chemicals are out of balance. Ninety-two percent of the time, I can figure out which are missing on the first try. Otherwise, I manage it on the second. Your chemicals are screaming and that concoction let them settle down. Will probably last thirty minutes given your condition.”

“What condition?”

“You have shock chemicals in your system. The amount found in severe physical trauma. Like a gunshot wound to the head or a hacked off limb. Your self-control is something worth studying.”

And yet he’d never felt more out of control. Revelator looked at Bishop. “I still don’t know where we’re headed. And why would she be in this prophecy of theirs?”

“If you don’t know when we get there,” Lesion said, “I’ll give you something to aid you.”

This had Revelator eager. “You can do that?”

“My neuro enhancers are some of my best works.”

“What are they?” Bishop wondered.

“Combination of herbs that tidies the neuro pathways. Makes them sharp. Aids in speed and agility.”

“I might like some too, then.”

“I already have our doses prepared.”

Revelator liked Lesion more and more. “Glad I picked you for this trip.”

The man smiled and stroked his fingers along his braided goatee making the onyx and silver beads along them click. “Your gift knew, I suppose.”

Revelator recalled the boy at the well again. He’d have been ten maybe. That’d make him around thirty now. Impressively wise beyond his years. He was indeed glad his gift had picked him. The darkness he sensed grew as they drove and if it got any denser, he may want more of The Twelve there. He wouldn’t take chances with Cherie.

****

Please God…I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left him. I shouldn’t have left, please…help me. Help me be strong.

The room spun as the drugs hit her system. Her mouth fell open at the familiar rush, her breaths coming faster. She hated it for how much she loved it.

“As requested by your merciful Darius,” the masked monster muttered next to her. “A little fire to boost your spirits.”

Panic raced with the drugs as he began his game of reaping. Slowly taking everything. Self-worth. Hope. Maybe her life if she was lucky. He was known as The Reaper but taking life wasn’t his thing. It was turning his victims into soulless shells. Some said he wasn’t the worst of the monsters there, but what he did was worse than death.

“What will it be first? I think I’d like to loosen your lips a little. Exercise your lungs. Stretch some muscles. But first this.” He worked a rubber ball into her mouth and strapped it behind her head. She fought back sobs as she watched him readying a black and metal tool that had her fighting for air.

“Ohhh, sweet, chocolate truffle, don’t cry yet. I haven’t even started.”

****

Once in New Orleans, the Holy Man’s gift revealed his woman was in physical danger which made him too unstable for sniffing compounds. The only way around his chaos was getting a room in the heart of that hell and performing an in-depth cleanse. It’d taken Lesion three times the amount required to put a man his size in a deep sleep. He needed to have a calm slate to clear his neuropathways, but his gifts were making a mockery of his attempts.

Continuing with the multiple of three rule, he tripled the incense and added the neuro salve at three times the access points on his body. His desire to see what his gifts looked like under his apothecary microscope would have to wait. Now, he needed to help his deliciously mysterious gift of perception flow unhindered.  

“Anything I can do?” Bishop asked from the foot of the bed.

Lesion shook his head while rubbing against the bond of their brotherhood. “Just needed him stable.”

“And he is now?”

“He is.” Lesion prepared a kill shot of the sniffing compounds and set them next to the bed. No room for mistakes with this one. If he surfaced without the right answers, he’d be a dirty bomb. Those weren’t all bad but they were messy and loud for a job that demanded clean and quiet.

“Here we go,” Lesion muttered, adding each compound into his silver thurible then lighting it. “You may not want to be too close. Can’t be sure what it’d do to you.”

Bishop took five steps back as the smoke seeped from the cages orifices and Lesion slowly swung it as he walked the perimeter of the bed. When the air directly above Revelator filled with the cleansing potion, he set the thurible down and returned his supplies to his leather roll. “We’ll know how well it worked in about five minutes.”

“What’s going to happen you think?”

“I wish I could tell you. But to study a man like him is surely on my bucket list.”

“Any guesses?”

“Well, what should happen is he’ll know all those details he wants.”

“Amazing. I didn’t realize your profession was so precise.”

“The healing side of the job is far more complex than the killing one. But both have numerous mechanisms.”

“Something’s happening,” Bishop said, nodding at Revelator.

Lesion watched as his fists clenched at his sides and his body went rigid.

“Is that normal?”

“No.”

“What is it?”

“Not sure. Let’s wait and see.”

Lesion angled his head, watching with great interest while Bishop paced with his eyes on his friend.

“Sounds like he’s in pain,” Bishop said.

“Seems he is.”

“Seems? He’s fucking thrashing, shouldn’t you wake him?”

“No. I think he’s getting answers.”

Revelator bolted up in the bed with a loud roar, his eyes wide and wild. He flew out the bed and looked from Bishop to Lesion. “She’s at The Dark Den four blocks from here.”

Bishop cut him off at the door. “Hold on Rev, we need a plan.”

“They’re killing her!” he roared at him.

Bishop wrestled him away from the door. “We need a plan!” he yelled back. “We’re blind in this. You need to show us what to do.”

He raked his hand through his hair. “She’s in a room near the back of the building. There’s…ten rooms.” He drew with his finger on the wall. “She’s here. Front entrance here. Back entrance here. There’s a side entrance. The man that has her is fucking torturing her. We have to go now.”

“How many men?” Bishop asked.

“One in each room. Ten.”

“Security?” Lesion wondered.

He clenched his eyes tight, baring his teeth. “Fucking…four at the entrance. None at the back.”

“Okay,” Bishop said. “So what are we doing? Single extraction?”

He shook his head, eyeing him. “They’re all dead. You killed two at the front and five in the rooms. You had your knife. Lesion killed four in the rooms. I killed two.” He snapped those wild eyes on Lesion. “You rescue a girl named Tully Jane Clement. And Cherie…” he gasped closing his eyes. “She’s hurt.” He grabbed Lesion’s shirt in both hands. “You can help her.”

“I can,” he said. “Let me gather my things.”

“Meet us in the truck,” Revelator said. “My blades are there.”

“Mine too,” Bishop said, following him out.

Lesion gathered everything to heal and kill, hoping he had exactly what he needed for Revelator’s woman. And what about the other one? Tully Jane Clement. What the hell would she need?

****

Revelator wished he could turn off the vision in his head. Cherie’s screams and desperate begs for help were still shredding his soul. How did Lesion do that? He’d never in his life seen like that. He’d seen beyond the past and the present—he’d seen prophetically and he wanted to stop seeing it. He focused his mind on the blood that would cover his blade then encountered the other smells of sexual abuse and suffering but he couldn’t tell who they belonged to. The whole place was saturated with it.  

“Where do we go in at?” Bishop asked as they walked the final two blocks to the building.

“The front.”

Bishop glanced back at him. “Where security is?”

“Yes.”

“And you saw this in your vision,” Bishop double checked.

“Every bit of it.”

“Not very busy on this block,” Lesion said as they neared the onyx brick building.

“I could cut the evil perimeter they have around it,” Revelator said. “They don’t want eyes here.”

The front of the building was solid with no windows. At the door, Revelator did the unthinkable and knocked.

“You’re knocking,” Lesion said, glancing around.

“It’s The Revelator,” he called, knocking again, harder. “Darius sent me.”

“Darius sent you?” Bishop mouthed.

Revelator braced for what was coming. The second the door opened, he plunged his knife into the dark t-shirt then yanked up, ripping through his torso. Bishop entered, his blade sinking in flesh, one body then two, just as the vision showed him. He glanced back, finding Lesion locking the door and pulling a hood over his head with a bird’s beak on the face.

The front lobby was nearly empty, other than the wide-eyed scared women behind a bar. They headed to the sick shows at the back. Revelator pointed them to the hall on the right as he headed for the left, his mind locked on the one target that was all his. He pulled his second knife out, his blood lust boiling for the mutilation coming.

Chapter Three

 Cherie fought to hold on to the darkness swimming in her vision. “Please God. Let me die. Please. I’m sorry, please. I’m sorry.”

“What are you saying?” the demon demanded, yanking the gag ball from her mouth.

Cherie answered with screaming sobs, clenching her eyes shut when his fist crashed down on her again.

This time the dark haze produced visions of a better place. She gasped at seeing him enter the room, her beautiful bayou angel. Please take me God. Let me die now with this vision.

Her heart exploded in her chest when the monster turned and faced him, making her realize he was real. Oh God he was real. The monster lunged and her angel’s blades plunged clean through him, the bloody tips protruding out of his back. Her eyes locked onto them now moving slowly up his body. He yanked them out and shoved him against the wall then swiped both blades along his neck. Cherie stared at the surreal sight of his head on the floor right before Samuel kicked it into the wall. Then he was before her, real and touching her. Kissing her face. Oh God was this real?

****

Lesion opened that final door and blew two paralysis darts into the naked demon. He shut the door quietly as the monster collapsed to the floor, staring up with wide eyes. Kneeling next to him, he pulled out his vial of acid and poured it into his gaping mouth, watching him gag on the liquid death now eating away his throat.

He stood and removed his coat, covering the naked girl.

“Help me,” she begged. “Don’t leave me!”

Lesion removed his hood and stared into the blue eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her swollen lips pressing together tight.

He drew his knife and cut her restraints. “I’m going to lift you.” He carefully scooped her tiny body up and carried her out, wondering how he knew she was the one.

“Are you good?” she gasped, hiding her face in his neck.

For some reason the question was difficult to answer. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said.

“Who are you?”

She clung to his neck, her body shaking more now, making her jaw bang together. “My name is Lesion.” He spotted Bishop at the back entrance and made his way over right as Revelator entered the narrow hall with his woman.

“Lesion,” the girl barely whispered. “That’s a nice name. I’m Tully Jane. My friends call me Tully.”

“Nice to meet you Tully,” he barely murmured, realizing the girl might be lacking in her mental faculties. The idea brought a sudden fury to his blood as he nodded at Bishop who opened the door and peeked out.

With the coast clear, they made it to the truck and he realized they wouldn’t all fit. “I’ll hold her in the back.”

“I’ll drive as careful as I can,” Bishop said as they all got in.

“It hurts,” she suddenly cried when he got her in the back.

“I’m going to lay you down so I can get you something for pain.”

“No please. I can’t,” she whispered. “I…I was clean.”

She sobbed the final words as he realized his medicine roll was in the coat covering her. “I need to get something from my coat pocket. I’m going to put my hand inside but I won’t touch you.”

“Okay.”

He located the pocket and retrieved the roll without making any contact. He brought a small vial to her mouth. “Can you open for me?”

She obeyed without question and he gave her the entire dose. He returned it to his pouch. “I need to hold you so you’re not injured more.”

She reached for him and he pulled her back onto his lap then tucked her arms against her chest. When Bishop got on the highway, he moved with her against the back of the cab to block the wind, tightening his coat around her.

“So cold,” she whispered, shivering.

He lowered his face, blocking more of the wind. “You’ll be okay now. The medicine will start working soon.”

He closed his eyes, wondering what sort of injuries she might have.

“Lesion?”

He moved his ear near her mouth. “Yes?”

“Thank you for saving me.”

Saving her. He’d healed a lot of people before but he’d never rescued anybody from such an evil as this. “You’re welcome.”

“I like your beard,” she murmured, the medicine’s effect in her soft words. “And all your ink.”

He lifted his head and looked at her blue eyes, half-slitted now.

“And your eyes,” she murmured. “So pretty. And sad.”

Hm. He’d thought the same thing about hers. “Sleep,” he murmured, stroking along the tension between her brows. “Tomorrow, life will start over for you.”

****

“I need to bring her to Madam Hag,” Lesion said when they reached the Dry Dock.

Bishop helped them onto a boat. “Take her with you to Revelator’s for now. I’ll send somebody to help you get her wherever you need.”

Lesion carefully lay his sleeping patient on the floor of the boat, using a life vest for a pillow while the Holy Man kept hold of his woman.

“She needs something for pain,” he told Lesion.

After they got going, he managed to get the roll from his jacket and handed him a dose. “Give her all of it.”

Lesion eyed Tully on the floor of the boat. He found her pulse and checked it. The dose he’d given her was strong enough for an adult man and she was very tiny. Once he got her stable, he’d adjust whichever way he needed to. But the nature of her injuries would require Madam Hag to look after. He had little knowledge of those things other than how to kill the man who’d committed the crime.

At Revelator’s house, he lay her on a bed of blankets on the floor next to the fireplace and checked her vitals again. Still sound asleep and stable.

He turned his attention to Revelator’s woman, finally getting a better look at her condition. “My God,” he barely muttered. Even though she had dark skin, the bruises and swelling stood out where Revelator allowed him to look.

“She’s still in pain,” Revelator said, his tone dark as ever.

“I’m going to put her out.”

He nodded. “Do it.”

To hear such desperation from the Holy Man hurried his steps. He located his sedatives and selected two. “You’ll need to check her pulse every thirty minutes. I need to know if it drops below forty beats per minute.”

“I will.”

“When she’s sedated, you can apply topical pain relief to her obvious injuries. It’ll help.”

“Thank you. How’s Tully?”

“I think her injuries are where I can’t treat.”

“We’ll get her to Madam Hag as soon as we can,” he assured.

When he administered his woman’s dose, he gave him the ointments. “Apply liberally. The sedative should last four hours. If it doesn’t, I’ll check for extensive injuries.”

“She’ll be okay,” he whispered, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed.

“You saw this?”

He nodded, sliding his hands over his face.

“And Tully?”

“Her too.” He finally looked up at him. “And you’re right. She’s been broken in places you can’t treat with medicine.”

Lesion looked over his shoulder at her. “She seems like a child.”

“I know.”

“What do you know of her?” Lesion asked.

He shook his head a little. “Only that she’s still pure somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…  despite the evil they heaped on her, she has a light in her that refuses to dim. I don’t understand how,” he said, shaking his head, his exhaustion coming through. “Other than divine intervention.”

“You need to rest,” Lesion said. “Opening all those channels took it out of you.”

“Feel like I’ve been hit by a train.”

“A chemical train, yes. Lay next to your woman. It’ll help you both.”

Revelator glanced over his shoulder at her and made his way carefully next to her.

“I’ll keep watch,” Lesion said. “Sleep.”

“Thank you,” he muttered, tucking his face near hers while being careful not to touch.

Lesion turned his attention to the girl next to the fireplace. He knelt by her and checked her pulse while studying her face. The softness in her features loosened his stomach. The little human butterfly wasn’t feeling any pain now.

Lesion decided to make a fire in case she had a chill. The autumn nights were chillier than usual, he’d noticed. He pulled up the small footstool and placed it near the girl, staring at the unmarred parts of her face glowing in the firelight. Fate had done a strange thing. Given him something curious and unusual to study. A young female. He’d never been able to study one and had given up on the idea.

He touched the pulse on her wrist and focused on the flutter under his finger, his gaze moving along her hand. He turned it over and ran his fingers lightly along her tiny palm, looking at the lines before turning it back over. His eyes held on to the jagged edges of her nails and dried blood causing that tension in his stomach to return. How had they gotten that way? He remembered the prisoners they’d take and the burning in his gut grew. He’d get to have them when Revelator was done. He had many diabolical things to test on the human filth.

Lesion traced the veins on the back of her hand again then moved his fingers to her wrist to count the flutters once more. She would be safe in the swamp with Madam Hag. Once she was recovered, he’d see that she had a safe place to stay. The swamp would return the things the world stole.

“Lesion…”

His eyes moved to her face. He reached and stroked the tension between her brow until it left then tucked her hand close to her chest. Her tiny fingers clutched his and he glanced over his shoulder, finding Revelator asleep. He lay next to the delicate butterfly, letting her keep his hand while watching as she wiggled her tiny frame closer and snuggled against him. The sight of such a thing had him in awe. Like a tiny angel hiding her face in his side.

He slowly moved the golden strands of hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her delicate ear. He wanted to map her, he realized. As soon as she was healed, he needed to. Unless Madam Hag did it first. No. Fate gave him the girl for a reason and he should be the one to map her.

He lifted the golden strands of hair between his fingers. What a strange turn of events she was. What was her purpose? Why was she there? Maybe having a girl such as this to look after could exempt him from the marriage trap. She could be his apprentice. He could teach her everything he knew and that could take years. A lifetime, even. Or he could just go through the motions and never find a woman he wanted. That would be the easiest solution. She could still be his apprentice either way. If she wanted to. All options. The more of those he had, the better. At least he had Madam Hag on his side. She thought the marriage bout was a tub of galactic frog shit.

He began mentally mapping his little human butterfly and his eyes drifted closed, leading him to dream of everything his mind couldn’t answer. And what provoking dreams they were.

****

Cherie jerked awake for the fifth time to Samuel’s soothing touch and lips all over her face. She fought through the pain, needing to feel he was real. He was. A warm heaven saturating the darkness and allowing her to rest and forget the shame of her life and recent actions. She didn’t care about anything but being safe in his arms. The other man there that she didn’t know appeared on and off during her endless slumber, making her drink things. She decided she liked him for the effect he always left her with. Allowed her to slip back into that heaven where only her and Samuel existed and nothing else. No past sins to ruin lives. No rules or standards she couldn’t measure up to. Just the perfection of his love.

On one of her journeys to the world of consciousness, she was able to watch him sleep. He was so beautiful. She pushed through the pain in her limbs and pulled his leg over hers, forcing him closer to her. He gave a soft mmmm that woke a terrible hunger in her. To pleasure her beautiful angel.

She stroked her hand over his denim, immediately getting the sound of his own desperate need. His hand covered hers and before she could worry he’d stop her, he pushed into her touch. He pulled the covers over them and gave her what she craved. Her hands all over his beautiful cock. He pressed his mouth to her forehead, his quiet shudders heating her skin and lighting her on fire. She worked her other hand in his pants, cupping his balls as she stroked him from hilt to the sensitive head. His fingers wrapped around hers, helping her move along his shaft and the feeling had her stifling moans. She lifted her face and his mouth covered hers carefully.

“Cherie,” he barely whispered, working her hand faster on him. His breaths cut off as he orgasmed and she covered the head with her hand, catching every drop of his hot seed. She kissed him, stroking his face with her hand.

“I love you so much,” she barely whispered.

“Where are you hurting?” he whispered, stroking her face.

She moved his hand between her legs. “Not here.” The monster had tortured her with the kind of pain that bruised but didn’t break. She had no doubt he was saving her privates for last and couldn’t keep the tears back that her angel had come before he had.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, fighting her urgent tug.

“He didn’t hurt me there. You came before he did.”

His breaths shuddered as he stroked her so carefully. The fire was instant and there was no pain in her body that would stop her from opening for so much more. She pumped her hips desperate for his touch and the orgasm he was about to give her. She came so quickly, it shocked her. The feel of his finger sliding hungrily inside her doubled the heaven as she fought not to make a sound.

“Does she need something for pain?”

Samuel froze at the voice of her other savior. “I don’t think so,” he answered as her heart hammered in her chest while her body buzzed from her release.

“Good. You’ve both been out for a while.”

“How long?”

“Three rounds of eight hours.”

“Wow,” Samuel said. “Bishop?”

“He came by and left. I told him we were fine here for now. When you’re both well enough, I’ll make other arrangements for Tully.”

“You have Tully?” Cherie whispered, hopeful.

“Yes. Lesion got her out.”

A sob escaped her and she clutched Samuel’s shirt in her fingers. “Thank you,” she croaked, sucking in several breaths. “I hate that she ended up in that hell.”

Samuel slowly sat up. “I think I can handle it from here if you leave me instructions.”

“Already wrote them down and have everything you’ll need on the counter. You can call if you have questions.”

“What about her?”

“She’s much better. Sleeping the whole time as well.”

“You’ll take her to Madam Hag?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Probably.”

Cherie reached out and stroked the skin peeking out of the bottom of his black t-shirt. He reached behind him and held her hand while Cherie’s curiosity piqued about the Lesion man. She wanted to thank him but already felt another long nap coming on.

Just one more and then she’d have to use the bathroom.

****

Revelator spent the rest of the afternoon cooking a healing soup for when Cherie woke. He’d get her strong again then they’d have a talk and come to an understanding. He was adding wild onions when he heard her moan and looked over his shoulder.

He hurried to her when she tried to sit up.

“Bathroom,” she moaned, sounding frantic.

He was glad they were alone. He scooped her up naked and carried her straight to the job, setting her carefully down in the bathroom before shutting the door. “I’m right here if you need anything. Understand?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, like everything hurt still. No doubt it fucking did. He shouldn’t have let her do that to him earlier but having her hands on him like that was more than he could resist. That he was able to touch her the way he had was a miracle he was still thanking God for. And he couldn’t wait to touch her again and again. He’d mark her until she couldn’t see straight without him, just like she’d done to him.

He fetched her robe, feeling like she needed to be covered even while he never wanted to stop looking at her perfect naked body. “Your robe is hanging next to the door.”

“Thank you,” she barely said.

“Do you want a shower?”

“Can I?”

“Of course you can. If you’re able.”

“I’m able.”

His gut loosened at hearing that. Fifteen minutes later, she exited the bathroom in her robe and he set her food at the counter. “How much do you hurt?” he asked, needing to know what he could and couldn’t do. “On a scale of one to ten, ten being don’t touch.”

He let her make her way to the stool, eying her steps as she went. “Five in some places…eight in others.”

“What percent of your body is at five and eight?”

She sat carefully and he put the bowl before her. “Eighty percent of my body is at five, the rest eight.” She took her first bite and his body nearly sagged in relief at those numbers. Whatever Lesion had done took a huge dent out of her injuries.

He pulled the other stool next to hers and took the spoon from her. “Let me.”

She didn’t argue as he fed her the entire bowl, kissing her cheek every other bite. He stared at her when he was done, a million things on his tongue he needed to say to her. “You want more?”

She shook her head. “I’m tired again.”

“Then you’ll sleep.” He stood next to her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him carry her to the bed.

“Sleep with me.”

He lay her down and she opened her robe, the hot need in her eyes stealing his breath. He removed his shirt, watching her eyes on his chest as he moved to undo his jeans next. She spread her legs and pulled her knees back and he couldn’t get to her offering fast enough.

“Oh God, yes,” she whispered, rocking against his mouth while pulling his hair.

“Fuck, I missed you baby,” he whispered, sucking her clit into his mouth.

“Please,” she crooned, rocking faster. “Make love to me.”

He pushed his finger in deep and she came instantly, sending a shockwave through his cock. “Not until you’re healed,” he finally managed, lapping up her orgasm with a greedy hunger.

“I’m healed enough. Please Samuel.”

He kissed his way up her body, getting lost at her breasts. She was burning again, holding them together nice and tight as he sucked the nipples. She pushed her leg into his hard cock and he groaned, thrusting. Before he knew it, she’d fought her way into his underwear and the next moment the head of his cock was sliding against her hot silk.

“Please don’t stop,” she gasped, her fingers digging into his ass when he tried to pull back.

“Cherie,” he croaked, pushing off her and sitting at the edge of the bed. “Not until you’re more healed. Do not ask again,” he said, leaving the bed when his body warned of a rebellion. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said, crawling back on the bed till he hovered right above her. “We need to talk before I consummate with you.”

She looked away and he turned her face back. “There’s nothing you could do that would stop me from loving you, Cherie. But I will learn everything that happened to you. And everything you’ve done. Yes,” he insisted when she shook her head with tears pouring. “There can be nothing hidden from me. You’ll have to trust me.”

“Please,” she begged, pain and worry crimping her face.

His anger rose hot toward the demons in her life. “I will not have mercy with this. I will own you. Every bit of you. There won’t be an inch in your spirit that isn’t wide open to me and mine. That’s how it has to be and if you can’t give me that then you can’t give me anything. All or nothing, Cherie. That’s what I require of you. That’s what you get of me.”

A sudden anger sparked in her eyes as she stared at him. “That’s easy for the saint to say, isn’t it? Maybe for once you’ll wish you didn’t have to know all the dirty details.”

“They’re mine as much as you are. And I want every single one of them. But I won’t force you, you’ll have to give it. I won’t take a single thing.”

He watched as her chest rose and fell faster. “What if I can’t give it? What if…I need you to take it?”

He eyed her, considering what she was trying to say. “Whatever holds your tongue imprisoned will answer to me. But you have to ask.”

“What if I can’t ask!”

He shook his head slowly, eying her. “Find a way to.”

She swallowed, closing her eyes, tears pouring. “I’m tired again.”

He studied her face and lowered his mouth to hers. “You’ll sleep. But first… you owe me orgasms.”

Chapter Four

By the time Lesion got the girl to Madame Hag’s side of the Bayou, he was dumbfounded. Was as if she’d never been injured. “So how long have you lived out here? A lot of years?”

“All my life.”

Her smile shone bright in the moonlight, her blue eyes sparkling. “So you’re a tattoo artist too? I always wanted a tattoo. Do you think you can make me one? I wanted a butterfly. Here,” she said, sticking her leg out of his coat and pointing to her ankle. “A monarch. My momma used to tell me I was like a monarch butterfly. She’d fight with daddy all about it. She’d say I was unique and he’d say I was a moth. Attracted to fires and prone to danger. I still don’t know why he thought that, I never once liked fires,” she cried. “You see this?” She pointed to her shin. “That’s a scar. Well, it’s faded but it’s from me catching on fire on accident. I like fires but not that much.” She gave a happy giggle like she’d told a secret joke. “Wasn’t my fault, I blame the shooting star that distracted me. But momma always said no matter how many times life burned me, I would rise out of the flames like a phoenix.” She flew her arms at her side and aimed her smile all around her. “I really do like it out here. I’ve never been in the swamps but I heard a lot of scary stories about the rugaroo. You ever hear of that? He’s supposed to be some kind of monster with these huge fangs and long tail. My daddy said it’s old wives’ tales but momma said there’s always some truth in all tall tales. Daddy said I shouldn’t believe everything I hear but how do you know if everything you hear isn’t true?” she wondered before sucking in a breath. “Is that your house?”

“It is.”

“I love it!” She turned and perched on her knees as he came to a stop at the dock inside the cove. “It’s like a fairytale! And you’re like the prince coming home to your swamp castle!”

She cast a huge smile over her shoulder, officially worrying him. What would Madam Hag say about this girl? How would he explain her to the old woman when he couldn’t explain her to himself?

He climbed out the boat and held his arm out for her. She grabbed hold of it with a huge smile and hopped onto the pier and gave a little clap then quickly shut his coat back tight around her. “Do you have a lot of company out here?” she asked, hooking her arm in his as he headed down the pier.

“Never.”

“I’m your first company?” she wondered, clearly excited about that.

He paused and she paused too, her bright smile and eyes right on him. “Tully…a woman lives out here with me.”

Her face fell as she looked at the small house. “Oh. Okay.” She regarded him. “Is she special to you? I mean…is she your girlfriend or something?”

“She’s eighty-two years old.”

Her face sobered and she nodded. “Momma said age is just a number. If you love her then that’s all that matters.”

“Tully, she’s not…she’s nothing like that to me. She’s like a grandmother.”

Her face bloomed with a blinding joy and she giggled with a hand over her mouth. “I’m glad,” she whispered. “I kind of like you.”

Lesion lowered his head, suddenly confused about the buzzing in his head and body.

“So you’re bringing me home to meet her? Do you think she’ll like me?”

“I’m bringing you here because…” At seeing her genuine curiosity and hope, he wasn’t sure how to say anything. “I’m bringing you here to meet her,” he finally said. “I don’t know what she’ll say when she does. She’s…different from most people.”

She was back at his side and clutching his arm. “Nothing wrong with different,” she assured. “Momma said there isn’t two of anybody on the planet and that everybody has something special to give the world. She said my heart was the greatest gift the world would ever see but I don’t even know how that’s even possible when my heart is in my chest!” Her delighted laughter carried through the trees around them, a tinkling wind chime in woods usually haunted by silence. His woods. His silence.

He decided to leave her at his place while preparing Madam Hag. The second they entered his house, she went on a looking spree full of gasps of awe and wonder. “That man called you Healer.” She turned to him with wide, thrilled eyes. “You really are, aren’t you!”

“Uh, yes. So, I’m going to leave you here for a bit while I go talk to Madam Hag.”

She gasped. “Madam Hag? Is that her real name?”

“You’ll be okay here, just…don’t touch anything. Okay?”

“Well, I can go with you,” she suggested, excited.

“No, I think you should wait here. You probably want to shower.”

Her eyes got huge. “You have one?”

“Yes.” He hurried to that side of the room and opened the door. “I have one.” He demonstrated how to work the shower and she stepped in it while he was still setting the water, naked.

He yanked the shower curtain shut along with his eyes. “Tully…you can’t…you need to have clothes on.”

She peeked her head out of the curtain, confusion on her pretty face. “In the shower?”

“No…I mean when you’re around me, you need to always have clothes on.”

“Oh.”

Her confusion made him wonder what the hell kind of life she’d lived. “It’s not okay to be naked in front of men. It’s wrong,” he reiterated, wanting to set the record straight for her.

“Okay,” she said, her voice lower and lacking all that joy.

Fuck, how had she translated that in her head? “You have to be with the right man before you do that.”

She poked her head out the shower. “Like you?”

“What? No.”

“You’re not the right man?”

“No, I’m not the right man.”

“Why not?”

The genuine question threw him. “I don’t…my life, my vocation doesn’t allow for me to be that kind of man.”

She stared at him. “What kind of man does it allow you to be?”

“The kind that heals sick people.” And kills demons.

“And this makes you the wrong kind of man to be naked around?”

“Yes,” he said, not caring how stupid that probably sounded all while his mind mapped her nakedness.

She gave a surprised laugh. “I never liked being naked around men but I think I would’ve liked it around you, but you’re not allowed because you’re the wrong kind of man who heals people. That is so confusing,” she muttered. “And very sad.”

She sounded confounded while his own brain was tied in knots. “I’ll find you clothes to wear,” he said, realizing she’d need that before leaving the bathroom. And he’d better do that first in case being naked was somehow different than being without clothes to her.

He got black sweatpants and a t-shirt and brought them to the bathroom. “I’m hanging clothes on the door for you. To put on when you get out of the shower,” he added, making sure it was clear. “I’ll be right back. Take a long shower.”

“Okay bye,” she called. “When are you coming back?”

“In five minutes.”

“That’s six hundred seconds!”

“Maybe ten minutes.”

“That’s one thousand two hundred seconds,” she said, like they were playing a math game.

“Yes. Very good.”

“I’m really good with numbers so if you need help counting things, I can count sooo many things!” she said, as if amazed with herself. “I’m so hungry!” she added, maybe just realizing.

“I’ll feed you when I get back.”

She giggled. “I can feed myself, if you want. Or you can feed me, I don’t mind. I might like that.”

Hell, maybe leaving her alone was a bad idea. What if he went beyond the seconds he said he would and she came looking for him? Without clothes? Surely she wasn’t that naïve. Was that the word for her? Naïve with a mega dose of four-year-old purity. The idea that she was at that place while being this person put his blood back to an immediate boil. Where were her parents now? How old was she? Not a day over twenty, he was sure. And what about her injuries, he needed to figure those out. He was a little leery of asking now.

He could introduce her to Madam Hag in the morning. It was late. If she’d heard the racket, she would come snooping and find out. Although, she was hard of hearing so maybe she heard nothing at all.

He went into his small kitchen and gathered vegetables for a quick stew then started the fire in his stove. When everything was ready, he wondered what she could still be doing in the shower. The hot was long gone by now. He went to the door and knocked softly. “Tully? The food is done.”

“I think I may have used the wrong thing,” she called.

The smell of eucalyptus hit him the second she said it. He stored all sorts of things in the bathroom, mostly for lack of space. “Put a towel on, I’m coming in.”

“Okay,” she said, sounding distressed. “I thought it was shampoo but I don’t think it was.”

“Are you covered?”

“Yes.”

He opened the door and regarded her pained face. “Are you burning anywhere?”

“No, but it’s really hot all over. And I can’t get it off!”

“It’s eucalyptus and it’s not supposed to be used directly on the skin because it’s a hot oil.”

“It is!” she agreed, nodding.

He considered what to counter it with, not accustomed to such a mistake. He reached in the shower and got the oatmeal liquid soap. “Where does it burn the most.”

“My back and my front. And my legs and my…other places.”

“Get back in the shower and use this all over your body then rinse, and tell me if it’s better.

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said before shutting the door. “I should’ve told you not to use things outside the shower.”

“I thought these were manly things in the shower, and the other stuff smelled lovely and familiar.”

Lovely and familiar. Interesting. He fixed her bowl of food and she called out that she was done. “Is it better?” he asked at the door.

“So much better. Except my back, I can’t reach too good.”

“Stay in the shower, I’ll put it on your back without looking.”

“Okay,” she said as he opened the door and stepped in.

“Just stand in the shower,” he said again. “And hand me that soap I had you use.”

She handed it out the shower and he filled his palm with it then reached back in.

“Turn your back toward me.”

“Okay,” she said. “You can look if you need to see. My back, I mean.”

“I think I have it,” he said, locating her back and spreading the soap all over it. Feeling her vertebrae and ribs told him she had hunger stories he needed to learn but didn’t want to hear.

“Rinse now. Sorry that the water is cold.”

“That’s sweet of you, but it’s okay, it helps the burning.”

Her tone sounded like any normal woman might and it made him pause and need to ponder her. He wasn’t accustomed to people. Maybe he was the ignorant one. Maybe her behavior was more normal than he realized.

She finally got out of the bathroom, her bright smile and eyes all over him. He gestured to the small table near the window where her food was and she spotted it immediately, hurrying to it like rare treasure.

He watched her sit and tear into the food like she hadn’t eaten in days.

He sat across from her, watching. “Good?”

She gave a huge mmm with many nods as she finished the bowl in under a minute. He took it and went back to the stove and filled it up again and brought it back. She gave him a happy smile, accepting it with bubbling joy. Again she ate, not quite as quickly this time and again he studied her, trying to figure which questions to ask first.

“I’m so thirsty!” she said with a laugh after she finished, her tongue sweeping over her lips.

He got up and found the gallon of Madam Hags fresh lemonade in the fridge and poured her a full glass. He set it before her and he watched her down the whole thing. She set the glass on the table and leaned back in her chair with a huge sigh, her eyes closed.

“That was the most amazing food and drink in the whole world,” she whispered, serious as could be.

He sat across from her again. “Can I ask you some questions?”

Her eyes popped open with her mega smile. “Yes, you can ask me anything. Even though you’re not the kind of man for touching me, I still like you and want to touch you. But I won’t. Unless you want me to. You can ask me if you want me to, I don’t usually touch unless I’m made to, but with you, you don’t need to make me touch you. I want to,” she reiterated, making his body erupt with that strange buzzing. Her eyes slowly widened. “Maybe you’re the one I was born to touch.” Her dawning awe had his tongue back in knots. “Momma said there was a man on earth I was born to be with, and one day I’d meet him and know.” She leaned toward him with a light in her eyes. “But I want to touch you with more than my heart,” she admitted before her eyes popped. “I’m talking too much! Daddy said if he had a penny for every word I spoke, he’d be a gajillionaire.”

Lesion’s smile came unbidden and she gasped and stared at his mouth.

“You are so handsome when you smile! And when you don’t do anything you’re very handsome too,” she added like he might take offense. “The most handsome man I have ever met.” He stared at her, feeling like he was in the Twilight Zone. “I’m…talking too much. Again,” she said quietly. “I do that when I like people. Ask me questions,” she urged. “I love questions!”

He studied her flush cheeks and twinkling eyes, ensnared. She was more beautiful and innocent than anything he’d ever seen and wasn’t sure how to process her. “Where is your mom and dad now?”

Her pretty face fell a little. “I don’t know, I’m still looking for them. I got lost when the hurricane came and we had to go to the shelter. Some nice people helped me and gave me a place to stay and they took care of me while looking for them.”

“How old were you?”

“I was thirteen. But I’ve been working to save money to find them. The people I work for put my money in a place to keep it safe.”

“What people?” he wondered, his stomach beginning to burn.

“Well…the place I was at when you found me…” She shook her head a little. “I don’t like that place. Darius only makes me go when he doesn’t have any choice. The people there are very bad and they’d hurt him if he didn’t do what they wanted. Darius takes care of me and saves my money. He said I have a lot of money saved and soon I will be able to use it to find my parents.”

“How old are you Tully?” he asked, raising a careful gaze to her.

Her pretty face faltered again. “I’m…I think I’m twenty-two. I know how to count,” she assured, nodding. “Things just got… confusing when I first got lost.”

She’d been lost for seven years maybe. That would’ve been… Hurricane Sandy possibly. “It’s okay, age is just a number as your mother taught you so well.”

Her perfect mouth bloomed with a smile. “Yes. Just a number. I like numbers.”

“I’m glad you do. I may need your help around here if you’re willing. And I pay my employees well. You can add it to the money you’ve saved.”

Her face sobered with awe. “I could never take money from you after you saved me. I take money from Darius even though he helps me but it’s so I can find my mom and dad.”

“Well, I can do it for the same reason if you allow me to.”

She lowered her smile and nodded. “I could. What would you like me to do?”

She aimed her sparkling blue eyes at him, making it hard to think up a sudden job. There were hundreds that involved counting. “I’ll find the perfect one and let you know.”

“When can I start?” she wondered, seeming ready that second.

“After you’ve healed.”

“I’m all healed now!”

He eyed her, contemplating how to learn of her injuries. “The man that hurt you. What did he do?”

He almost regretted the question at seeing her fear before she lowered her face. “He…he put…” She swallowed, her breaths turning shallow. “I don’t want to tell you.”

“Okay,” he said. “You can tell Madam Hag so she can help you.”

Her eyes shot up to his. “He put things in my privates,” she whispered, shaking her head and making his stomach knot. “Don’t make me talk to her, please.”

“You don’t have to talk to anybody,” he said, feeling sick. “Okay?”

She stared at him, her brows pinched in that way he’d smoothed when she slept. “Okay,” she whispered. “I…need the bathroom.”

He watched her hurry to it and closed his eyes at hearing her vomit until she had nothing left. He waited for her by the door and when she came out, he intercepted her with his embrace.

“I’m sorry, I loved the food,” she barely whispered, placing her fists against his chest. “I’m tired.”

“You’ll sleep and eat in the morning again.”

He felt her head nod.

“You can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the cot.”

“Can’t you…sleep with me?” she whispered, clutching his shirt in her fingers.

“I can until you fall asleep.”

She gave a small nod and he led her to his bed, pulling the covers down. He tucked her in, pressing the covers around her small body then lifted his gaze to her worried one.

He remembered his lights. “Let me turn on the night lights then I’ll come back.”

“How far is it?” she wondered.

“Right by the front door.” He eyed her scared face. “I won’t leave you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, holding the covers to her chin.

He plugged in the white Christmas lights that doubled as night lights and returned to the bed. She sat up, her smile moving from one window to the next. “So pretty!” she whispered, making him feel like a genius.

She opened the covers for him and scooted over.

Lesion stared at the spot next to her, his mind suddenly blaring with bad idea warnings.

He slowly lay down and she scooted further away from him as if realizing. “I won’t touch you. Unless…you ask me to.”

“Thank you, Tully,” he muttered, staring at the ceiling and closing his eyes.

After a minute of silence, Tully gasped, “What was that!”

“A screech owl. They do that every night. It’s how they speak to each other.”

“There’s more than one? They sound like monsters.”

He smiled. “They’re not monsters. They’re big birds.”

“Birds,” she whispered, sounding fascinated. “Have you seen them?”

“Yes. I’ll show you one tomorrow.”

She suddenly put the pillow over her head.

“Now what?” he wondered, eying her. “You’re not scared of thunder, are you?”

“Yes,” she said, the word muffled under the pillow.

“I love storms,” he murmured, watching the pillow slowly lower.

“You love storms?” she whispered, curious.

“I do. They’re exciting.”

“They’re scary.”

“They can be, I guess. But you’re safe here. They can be exciting when you’re safe.”

“Exciting,” she said, as if testing the thought in her mind. “I’m safe,” she seemed to remind herself.

“You are. Nothing will hurt you here.”

“Because…you’re here?” she wondered.

“Yes.”

“And…you won’t let anything hurt me?”

“That’s right.”

“Why?” she wondered, pulling the pillow to her chest. “Why do you protect me? Why did you save me?”

“Because The Holy Man said I would.”

She shot up, staring down at him. “What Holy Man?”

“The man who owned the house we first went to.”

Her eyes widened. “He’s a Holy Man?”

“He is. He can see things when touching people.”

“And he saw me?”

He nodded, closing his eyes.

“But he’s never touched me.”

“No, but he touched me.”

“But why would he see such a thing when touching you?”

Lesion shrugged. “Maybe you prayed.”

“I did pray,” she gasped. “Do you think he heard?”

“Somebody heard,” Lesion said, sliding his gaze to her only to get stuck studying the purity on her face.

She lay back down, staring at the ceiling with a huge smile. “Wow,” she whispered. “God heard my prayer. Do you think he heard the one about finding my mom and dad?”

“I’m sure he’s been very busy working out that one.”

“You think so?” she wondered, hopeful.

“I know so,” he said, not having to pretend.

“How do you know?” she wondered, looking at him.

“Why wouldn’t he?”

She held his gaze for many seconds, working out the question. “Because…I’ve done things that aren’t….”

“You did what you thought you had to,” he said. “Didn’t you?”

She nodded slowly then faster.

“That’s what he looks at.”

She turned on her side. “Did you save me because…you like me?”

At hearing what kind of like she meant, his brain tied his tongue in knots again.

“You don’t have to answer. I…I don’t want to hear.”

“I do like you,” he said, not about to be responsible for the rejection in her voice.

“Like a sister?”

“Yes,” he said, relieved at hearing an acceptable term. He glanced at her when she turned and put her back to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, the word strained.

“I also like you as a friend,” he added, realizing the sister thing bothered her.

“Thank you,” she said, the words even tighter. “Goodnight Lesion. Thank you for liking me enough to save me.”

He stared at her back, gutted by her quipped words. He reached out and stroked his fingers carefully along her golden hair. “Don’t cry, Tully,” he whispered. “Tomorrow will be a new day. I’ll show you a life where evil doesn’t exist. And the sun in these swamps will never set on your perfect smile.”

Chapter Five

 “Where is she now?” Madam Hag wondered, eyes full of sad wonder after he’d told her story.

“Sleeping soundly. She thinks she’s healed but I know better. She could hardly speak to me about what happened, but when I mentioned her having to talk to you, she confessed enough to make me need to murder in cold blood.” Again.

“What a poor child. What do you plan to do with her?” Madam Hag’s many bracelets clinked as she readied his favorite tea while he paced in her kitchen at three in the morning. He’d woken to Tully clinging to every inch of him and after thirty minutes of extracting himself without waking her, he needed to see Madam Hag.

“I want to find her parents. She was separated from them during one of the hurricanes when she was thirteen then picked up by Dark Ones and has been being sexually used since. She thinks they’re good people who are helping her save money to find her parents.” He nodded in furious agreement with the look that came over Madam Hag’s face.

“You said the Holy Man saw you saving her?”

He nodded, making himself sit at his spot near the fire.

“I need to meet this one. Have heard many things about him and never had the pleasure.”

“You will, I’m sure. He’s got a woman now. She was the reason we went to New Orleans where I found Tully.”

“And now you,” she said, amazed.

“Me what?”

“Have a woman,” she cried like he were dense.

“She’s not my woman, she’s…a woman who I’m helping.”

“Well, she can be,” she said, the many layers of her mossy green robe flaring as she went about.

He looked over his shoulder at her, dumbfounded. “You were just dead set against me marrying!”

“A stranger,” she said, pointing at him.

“She is a stranger!”

“But this is divine intervention, Lee, don’t you recognize that?”

“I recognize a woman who needs something I can’t give her.”

“Like what?” she cried

“Who in the world have you talked to since I’ve been gone?”

“Nobody,” she cried, guilt in her innocent gray eyes.

“Was it the Belle Eveque? She’s got some kind of witching power over people.”

“Have you even met her?” she challenged.

“So it was her?”

“She met me,” she corrected with a defensive finger in the air.

He stared at her. “And?” he demanded.

“And we talked,” she cried, as if she weren’t a hermit that never talked to anybody but him.

“Wow,” he muttered. “How quickly you fell.”

“Not quick at all, we spoke a good hour.”

“A swamp hour or a literal hour?”

“Quite literal,” she assured.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“You’re a mud bug, that’s why. And when do I get to meet this angel of yours.”

“She’s not my anything and please don’t mention that to her.”

Her brows rose. “Why not?”

He sagged at seeing her unhelpful position in all this. “Because she…she’s sensitive to that.”

She handed him his cup of tea, her gaze curious and waiting as she settled in the chair next to his.

He brought the cup to his lips while his brain struggled for the correct words.

“Does she like you?” she asked, her tone innocent.

“I saved her, of course she likes me.”

“Ohhhhh, savior syndrome.”

“Very much so.”

“How much so?” she wondered, her eagerness on full display.

“You’re worse than her with all these questions.”

“Oh? She’s inquisitive? That’s a good thing?”

He laughed at that understatement. “Ten questions to your five, at least.”

“Oh dear. You hate chatty people.”

“I do, but she’s…a different kind of chatty. She’s not like most people. And I intend to reunite with her parents. I don’t plan to keep her like some...pet.”

Madam Hag giggled. “She reminds you of one of your pet creatures? Only a girl that you don’t know how to keep,” she said, making him realize the utter truth of that.

“It’s not like I’ve ever found a human butterfly in the swamp.”

She gasped. “Is that how you see her?”

His head dropped back with a groan.

“Well, I can help you,” she said, bringing his head forward. “At least till you dump her off wherever.”

“I’m not dumping her anywhere unless it’s with her parents and yes, I want to know everything that needs knowing until I do that. Particularly, how do I get her to see me as…a friend or brother?”

Madam Hag covered her smile with her cup. “You’re very funny.”

“Why is that funny? Surely there’s an herb?”

Full on laughter now.

“These are all chemically related,” Lesion reminded. “There has to be something to help curb it. Like you did with that one fellow?”

“She must really like you! I’ve never seen you this desperate.”

“I don’t want her hurt more than she’s been, Madam. That’s all. I am a healer,” he reminded her.

“Yes,” she said lightly. “Tell me why you think she likes you this much.”

“She has no filter,” he said. “She told me straight out that she wants me in a way that a wife wants a husband.” The delight in her eyes annoyed him.

“Tell me how she said it.”

“I can’t remember the exact words.” He did but he surely wasn’t about to recite what he couldn’t get out of his head.

“Well, I’ll take the gist, Lee.”

“She wants to touch me. With more than her heart. All I need to do is ask.”

Madam Hag covered her smile with her slim fingers, light dancing in her eyes. “That is plain speak.”

He sipped his tea, shaking his head at the humor in her tone.

“So… how did this kind of talk make you feel?”

He eyed her. “Like I needed a concoction.”

“For her?”

“Yes, for her. I’d take one too if I thought it’d help.”

Madam Hag gave a shrug, crossing her legs. “Maybe once she sees you’re not interested in those things, she will accept that? Or perhaps you can introduce her to your beloved Twelve and see which would take her off your hands.”

“Madam,” he warned, eying her innocent expression. “Tully’s mind is…too vibrant for the normal world.”

“And you think nobody will want that?”

“I think…they won’t understand it and may…hurt her. Why are you smiling like that?”

She added laughter. “Because you care so much about her.”

“Well, I sure didn’t save her to see her back in another bad situation.”

“Not one of those men in The Twelve would hurt her,” she admonished. “Bacon is very empathetic, as is Patches. Is this girl pretty?”

“She’s a human angel in every sense of the term.”

“Well…Patches is very handsome. Maybe if she were to meet him…”

Lesion stood and brought his cup to the sink. “Right.” Only, not. None of The Twelve would know what to do with her any more than he knew. She didn’t need to meet any of them until he had time to… prepare her. Somehow tone down her blinding innocence and purity. And yet, the idea of doing that felt wrong. She was the most beautiful thing the world would probably ever see and to tone it down seemed blasphemous. The world needed her shine. “I may not be qualified, or the man for her, but fate seemed fine to have me save her. And until it shows me where she’s supposed to go or what she’s supposed to do, I’m her protector. No darkness will come near her and nothing will hinder her light.”

He turned, not surprised to find Madam Hag’s smile. “Well, if you must,” she said, sipping her tea. “Then you have my vote and any help you may need to accomplish that noble task.”

“I need to go check on her. She may wake and follow the fireflies thinking they’re calling her on a journey. And who knows, maybe they would. She’s different.”

Madam Hag followed him to the door, rubbing his shoulder. “I can’t wait to meet her. Let us plan to have dinner tonight.”

“I’ll try and wear her out.”

“Do no such thing. I know how to appreciate vibrantly colored humans. I appreciate you, don’t I?”

“Hmm. You do.”

“Maybe you two are more alike than you realize?”

He paused, wondering. “Do you think you have anything she could wear besides my clothes? She had nothing on when I found her.” He shut the door in his brain when it produced photographic images.

“Hold on!”

He waited while she rummaged through drawers and stuffed a pillowcase full of things. “That should do for a week.”

He leaned and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Madam. We’ll see you this evening.”

Chapter Six

Lesion waited for Tully to finish trying on all the clothes. She was making him judge every outfit which engaged his photographic memory. After the third one, he had a neat catalog of Tully at every angle. How many fucking outfits had that woman given? By the time she was on the last one, his need to map her had grown exponentially.

Maybe he could use what he’d obtained from the fashion show and keep it general. His habits required he collect every detail that could be obtained from a thing but that couldn’t happen with her.

“Which one is your favorite?” she asked, poking just her head out the bathroom door.

He knew there was no getting out of this game of hers and picked. “The black one.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “It’s so…bulky. Maybe a little hard to move in if we’re journeying in the swamps?”

He forgot about that. “The white one.”

She gasped with a happy nod. “Good pick!”

Right. The one that made it very obvious she wasn’t a child but a beautiful woman while giving her an ethereal appearance. He could’ve picked any other one, so why didn’t he?

The ankle high rubber boots should’ve looked ridiculous but instead it captured her child-like nature and complimented everything. “Do you have a brush?” she wondered.

He got up and fetched it from his groomers box. His own hair was long and kept in dreadlocks. But there were occasions he washed and required grooming tools. He went to hand over the brush then paused. “I’ll do it.”

He pulled the kitchen chair out and gesture she sit.

“Are you sure? I have a very tender scalp. Momma says I’m a big baby.”

“If I hurt you, I’ll let you do it.”

He pulled up the other chair and gathered her long blonde curls behind her back. Starting at the very bottoms, he worked the bristles through the silk.

“I can barely feel it,” she said, impressed.

“Good.”

“You have long hair, is that where you learned this?”

“Yes.”

“I like your hair. Maybe you’ll let me brush it one day.”

Not likely, but... “Maybe.”

“I like your beard too. I want to touch it. But I won’t,” she said, as if he needed assuring.

“Nobody touches my hair or my beard.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“So…I’d be the first?”

He smiled that she’d exempted herself. “You would.”

“I like being your first. Not that kind of first and…just the idea, I mean.”

He was sure he liked it more. When he worked all the knots out of her hair, he realized he was just getting started. Stroking his fingers through the golden silk, he mapped everything that could be, mentally recording. The golden light ended at her butt and he couldn’t seem to stop touching it.

“You like my hair?”

He considered his answer carefully, not wanting her to read too far into it and yet needing her to know just how amazing it was. “Very much,” he decided to admit.

“Really?” she said, oblivious to her beauty. “I was wanting to cut it.”

His hands froze a moment then returned to stroke with a covetous intent. “Your hair reminds me of dawn’s first light, magically spun into hair. Don’t ever cut it.”

She didn’t answer right away and he worried he’d over done it. “Wow,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize how beautiful it was.”

He gave a smile. “Now you know.”

“Yes,” she said, sounding like she might be smiling. “What are you doing to it?”

“Braiding it.”

“You can braid?”

“I can,” he said, taking his time with a fishbone braid. When he was done, he fastened the end then moved it to the front of her body. “There. The swamp princess is ready to meet her maker.”

She hurried to the bathroom and gasped, “I love it! What do you mean, I’ll meet my maker?” she wondered when she stood before him again.

“He’s everywhere in the swamp.”

“God?”

He laughed at seeing she took him literally. “Well, He did make it so He’s a part of it.”

A look of amazement filled her face. “Then that would mean…he’s everywhere because he made everything?” she double checked.

“I would agree with that.”

“I never thought of such a thing! That’s so smart of you to figure out!”

He stared at her, the look on her face making him ponder again what he was supposed to do with her. Why she was there? What was her purpose with him and him with her?

“Well, I’m ready to be your helper. What will we be doing?”

“No work today. Just you meeting my swamp.”

She gave a light squeal. “I can’t wait!”

For the next four hours, she sat right in front of him in his little boat, her exuberance rubbing against his skin non-stop. By noon, he needed a break from it or else he’d do more than observe with his eyes. “We’ll go back and eat lunch and rest a bit.”

“And use the bathroom!” she gasped with wide eyes.

He shook his head. “Tully, why didn’t you tell me?”

She glanced over her shoulder with a wince. “I didn’t want to stop.”

Back at his pier, she ran the whole way to the house ahead of him. By the time he got there, she was laid out on the bed, moaning in what sounded like relief.

“Tired?”

“Yes,” she gasped, sounding surprised.

“Take a nap. I’ll get our food while you do.”

“Mmmm,” she barely said, sounding halfway in dream land already. “I love your food.”

And he loved feeding her.

An hour later, he walked to the bed and stared down at her, watching her sleep. He was sure he’d never seen anything more perfect and it made his mind sizzle with those exploratory habits and needs. He was accustomed to touching everything he studied and he very much wanted to study her at such a depth. How could he, without crossing lines? Wasn’t like she was one of his projects. Although…maybe she could be.

He ate before waking her, wanting to be free to watch her eat. He wasn’t sure what he loved more, her exuberance when eating or the way she licked the food from her lips while making all her satisfied sounds. He realized all her hungers called to him to feed.

“Would you be willing to be my first female subject?”

The question came unbidden, like his brain was tired of waiting on him. She paused eating, eying him with that eager light in her blue eyes. “What…does that mean?”

He considered how to explain it. “You would let me…study you.”

“Study me? Why?” she wondered, dragging her teeth over her lower lip.

“Because that’s what I do. I study things. I’ve never had a female subject to study before. It would help me develop various protocols and medicines.”

He held back the rest of why. He wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

The light in her eyes brightened. “I can help with that?” she wondered, holding back her excitement.

“You could.”

She added a smile. “I would love to. What do I do first?”

He lowered his gaze, feeling like a predator suddenly. “I…usually map all my subjects.”

“Map? Like an actual map?”

“Sort of.”

“How do you do that?”

“I draw them.”

“You…have to draw me?”

“For medical reasons,” he reminded.

“Okay,” she agreed with a happy smile. “When do you want to?”

From the moment he laid eyes on her. But that was always the case with his brain. He found things in the field and brought them home to his lab and mapped them immediately. She was surely no different other than he wanted to do it way more than he’d ever wanted and it was taking him too long to get to it. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now,” she said, sending his pulse racing in excitement. “Where do we do it?”

“Wherever you’re comfortable.”

“What…do I have to do exactly?”

“Just lay still while I draw you.”

She glanced around. “Do I stand?”

“It might take a while.”

“What about the bed?”

“The bed would work.”

She made her way to it and sat. “Should I lay down?”

He’d stood, his hands itching for his pencils now. “You can. I’ll get my equipment.”

“Okay,” she said.

She lay on the bed, an angelic offering of perfect female data. The way he salivated for what she gave made him pause and reconsider if it was the best idea. But the thought of not doing it filled him with enough fire to burn down the entire swamp. He had to do this.

He went into his lab room and got his tablet and pencil. He’d settle for a rough drawing then transfer it to his draft table for a clean work with more details. Later. When she slept.

He entered the main room and froze. His heart hammered as his gaze locked on the bed where Tully lay exactly the way he needed but would never ask. Naked.

He slowly made his way over, strangling the pencil and notebook in his hands as hunger made his pulse hammer through his body for every detail about her.

“I thought it would be easier for you to draw this way.” Her breathless words said she’d taken a risk and was now worried. “I can…put my clothes back on if not.”

“No,” he said, coming to stand right next to the bed, his eyes moving slowly over her. They stopped at her breasts, and his brain ran in circles as he watched in silent fascination her nipples change before his eyes, growing tight and tall. He should be drawing but he couldn’t tear his eyes off them.

Her chest rose and fell at a pace that made him curious. “Are you scared?” he asked, not wanting her to be.

“No,” she whispered.

“Good. You don’t need to be afraid of me.”

“I'm not,” she whispered as he began drawing finally, starting at her head. He drew her face and mouth, then worked more on her eyes. She stared at the ceiling and before long, he was lost to the task. She turned her gaze to him and he angled his head.

“What?” she whispered.

“I want to draw a light in your eyes but… there actually isn’t one.”

She looked back at the ceiling. “What…do you think so far?”

He stepped back, allowing her breasts to come into his gaze. They’d changed again. The tips were no longer tight and tall but smooth and silky looking. And soft. Or were they firm and full?

“Do you like them?” she whispered, drawing his gaze.

She stared at the ceiling still. “You’re a perfect specimen,” he said, glad he didn’t have to lie.

“So…what do you want to learn about a woman?” she wondered.

“Everything,” he said, the answer easy.

“Everything…medical?”

“Yes.”

She swallowed and kept her eyes on the ceiling. “What about…the non-medical things?”

He regarded her. “I think they’re all medically related.”

“Even…the sexual stuff?”

“Yes,” he said, sure again.

“How much do you know?”

“I think I know a lot, but…need things confirmed.”

“I can…tell you things.”

His gaze slowly moved along her trim waist, the direction of the conversation sending that odd buzz through his blood to pound in his cock. “What can you tell me?”

“How…things work. And feel.”

He was curious now. “What things?”

“The…female things.”

“Like?”

“Like…what feels good and…what makes it feel good.”

He’d never let himself contemplate the things he couldn’t study. He knew theoretically that the female body was designed for the male—which he was. And now, he was experiencing just how powerful that connection was. The need to test and explore that connection had his brain burning with greed and no care to deny it. “Tell me everything,” he said.

He watched her tongue sweep over her lips, amazed to find that even that affected his male body now. “Certain places feel good.”

“What places?” He surely needed to know but not with words. He already knew what places but didn’t know the exact details of how it all worked.

“My breasts,” she whispered.

Yes. Those. “Show me,” he said, his eyes all over them, waiting for her to confirm.

“Here,” she whispered.

He watched her closed fingers move in circles over her breasts. Her lips parted as she stared at the ceiling still and he suddenly needed to know what pressure she was using and exactly where she was touching.

“Show me with one finger only,” he whispered, his cock beating with his pulse now.

She did, right over the tip of her nipple. It was hard again, but it barely bowed under her touch, telling him she was using little pressure. 

“Where else?” he whispered, his gaze moving lower to the golden hair between her legs. “Show me.”

She slowly opened her legs and heat sucked his cock as his eyes locked on target. He got closer for a better angle as her hand lowered over the triangle. Her middle finger sank right at the top where her clitoris was and stroked in those same small circles. She made tiny sounds a lot like when she was eating but yet much different. Like it made her hungry for more. His arousal had him dizzy as he watched her finger move and her hips begin to lift then drop in response. Again his body reacted with a boiling violence, begging to join in the confirmation. Her moans turned more strained and her breaths quickened.

“How does it feel?” he had to know or hear.

“So good,” she barely whispered, her legs opening more.

“Fuck,” he barely said on a gasp when her finger lowered and slid in her opening. His gaze shot up to her breasts as she moved her finger over her nipple now. Her moans were louder and he realized she was going to have an orgasm. The idea he’d get to see that had him ready to have one too.

“Oh Lesion,” she barely cried, her hips moving in the most arousing way imaginable.

He slid his hand along her inner thigh, pulling her leg open more, needing to see. His fingers pressed into her muscle when her orgasm came and she opened so fucking wide, her body bowing off the bed and shaking for endless seconds. Holy fuck, something amazing had detonated in her, causing it. Something he couldn’t see and needed to, needed to understand.

The sounds of her moans began to soften and she suddenly closed her legs and covered her face with both hands, confusing him. “What’s wrong?” he wondered, winded still.

“Do you think badly of me?”

Badly? “Why? You showed me exactly what I wanted to see.”

“I did?” she whispered, chancing a look at him.

“Yes,” he said, staring at her. “Can you show me again? Talk to me this time.”

“What…do you want me to say?”

“How it feels. How you’re touching it. I need to understand.”

She nodded and drew her legs back again.

“Does it feel good to have your legs that way?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“You move your hips.”

“I have to,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because it feels so good, it…makes me.”

“The pleasure makes you?”

“Yes.”

“Show me again. Tell me how good it feels.”

She opened her legs wide with her knees back, sliding two fingers this time over her glistening folds.

“It’s wet,” he saw, wondering why that made his mouth water. “Your orgasm caused that.”

“Yes,” she whispered, sliding her fingers along herself until they shined.

“What does it feel like?”

“Soft. Slippery. Hot.”

“Mmm,” he whispered, his gaze riveted on what she was doing while his cock needed to explode.

“You think I’m pretty there?”

“So fucking beautiful,” he couldn’t keep from saying.

Her finger went inside her, drawing his pained groan. “Lesion,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Please…”

“What, Tully? Tell me.”

“I need…you to touch it.”

“Where?”

“Where my finger is.”

He knelt on the floor next to the bed, pressing his cock into the mattress. “Here?”

She held his finger and slid it in and out of the opening. “Like that,” she moaned.

He was enraptured on five levels. The sight, the feel, the sounds. And now the fucking smell of her. “Tully,” he whispered, already knowing he’d have to know what it tasted like. For now he settled for capturing all the rest, gently moving his finger in and out. “It's hot silk,” he realized. “You feel beautiful here.” He brought his other hand in to help, sliding her hand aside so he could touch her clit. “Let me.”

She gasped as he mimicked her movement, her hips flicking as she gave those moans again.

“Tully,” he gushed when she grabbed her breasts and squeezed as he made her feel good. “Is your orgasm coming?”

“Yes, oh God yes, it’s coming. Don’t stop.”

He surely didn’t. He moved onto the bed and opened her legs wider. “I need to taste you.”

She answered with a gasp and “Yes!”

He wanted to go slow but his mouth stormed the silk with a hunger that startled him. His fingers dug into her inner thighs, pushing as he growled on her. She held his head to her squirming hips and suddenly came again, bucking under his mouth with those debilitating cries of rapture.

He was unable to stop tasting, needing to learn every bit of her with his mouth and tongue. He moved up her body, stopping at her breasts to learn them perfectly. And then he was at her mouth, devouring that too. “Tully,” he shuddered. “You’re heaven in human form,” he was sure. “I can’t stop.”

“Don’t stop.”

He’d thought there was safety being clothed, but everywhere her hands touched burned through the material and marked him, made him hers. His mind raced with who he was, what he was doing and what it meant.

“Why did you stop?” she gasped as he forced himself off her. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he whispered, staring into her face while catching his head and breath. “You do everything so perfectly.” He stroked her face and she captured his passing fingers in her mouth, sucking them. He closed his eyes, immediately lost to the immaculate feeling of her tongue on him while his cock ached to trade places.

This was too fast for her. For him.

He withdrew his fingers and stared at her mouth. He lowered his to it and paused. “One more kiss, Tully. Then I have to stop.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because it’s enough for now.”

“You’ll do more soon?”

He pressed his lips on her perfect mouth, immediately drawn into her prison of fire. Seconds from being consumed, he pulled up for air and sanity. “You are too much,” he gushed in awe.    

She got up on her elbows, watching him pace through the violent need to bury his cock in her.

“Too much what?”

“Everything,” he whispered, eying her confused, flush face. “You’re too beautiful, too heavenly, too good.”

Her lips tugged with a smile. “I’m too beautiful?”

He sat on the bed, feeling like if she needed to know anything, it was that. “You are the most beautiful human I have ever seen. And though I haven’t seen many, I’m certain there isn’t another that could steal my breath and consume my mind the way you do.” Fuck, he was kissing her again, drowning again. What was happening to him?

He pulled her arms from around his neck and held them to the bed when she struggled to get free. “Tully,” he begged, winded.

Seeing the fire in her eyes as he held her down that way altered his need for explorations dramatically. “I can’t do this unless I’m in charge.”

He felt the fight in her arms subside as she stared at him, breathless. “I would love it if you dominated me.”

Dominated? The term was odd to his mind even as his cock lurched in eagerness for what that could mean and look like. Something she was accustomed to doing with other men, he realized.

He stood, not liking that.

“I never loved it when they did it to me,” she whispered, as if seeing his conflict. “But…I know I would love it with you.”

“What…are you referring to?” he needed to know.

“Dominating,” she barely said, still holding his stare. “When you…make me do things that feel good. And…punish me when I don’t do it just right.”

Something strange churned in his stomach that produced a wretched concoction. “I never want to hurt you.”

She gave a sweet smile. “You don’t have to.”

She was implying some loophole that he now needed to understand. “Explain it to me.”

He sat next to her, his gaze lowering to her nipples that were now tight again and whispering other wisdoms he needed to uncover. “You can restrain me. Spank me on my bottom. On my breasts and…privates.”

“Did…you do this before?” The idea might infuriate him.

She sat up, bringing her face just below his, her open, innocent gaze roaming his face. “Yes, and I hated it.”

“Then why?” he whispered, stroking her silky face, needing to understand.

“Because you.”

He studied her every feature, understanding what that meant. He was the exception to everything, the same way she was to him. “And…you want this?”

She seemed to consider it and soon her eyes glazed over with a fire that boiled in his cock. “I want you to make me feel good. Make me…do things to you that make you feel good. Make me endure your pleasure.”

Again the terrain in his brain shifted, presenting another boiling facet to his alluring female subject. He suddenly had visions of what that would look like, her being forced to endure his pleasure.

She moved to her knees now, putting her face above his. “You can tie me up and…make me suck you.”

His brain quickly choreographed the entire scene and he closed his eyes, struggling to breathe through the flames it caused. “Tully,” he whispered.

“You want that?”

“Very much.”

“Then do it.” She lay on the bed and put her arms behind her back, showing him. “I want to feel you in my mouth. I want to taste you and suck you and…make you come till I’m drinking it.”

His body took over his frozen brain and he realized he was removing his shirt. He fought to remember why he shouldn’t as her eyes burned along his torso.

“So beautiful,” she whispered, hurrying off the bed and kneeling before him. She looked up, putting her hands behind her back again. “Make me.”

The molten fire in her blue eyes burned him to his core. He wasn’t going fast enough for her and she helped now. The moment his cock was out, she paused, staring at it for many seconds before diving on it with a ravenous hunger, forcing him to the depths of her hot, moaning throat.

Five sucks and that was it, she owned every part of him and every drop of cum she now milked from his body with a triumphant satisfaction. Her mouth hurried to his balls, sucking and licking as his fingers buried in her silky hair. He was speechless. There were no words in his head, only sounds of hunger and need. For more. So much more.

Chapter Seven

“I touched her,” Lesion said, pacing in Madam Hag’s small kitchen, his panic gradually growing the more ensnared he got with Tully.

“I take it this touch wasn’t casual.”

“I touched her everywhere, like I always touch everything only she’s a woman and…she touched me back. In places no woman ever has.”

“Ohhhh,” she whispered.

“This isn’t that kind of ohhhh, Madam.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “Negative.”

“And why not?”

“Because I’m doing everything a man does to a woman who he marries, only I’m not thinking of marriage at all, I’m thinking of exploring and mapping and writing facts down and seeing what sort of medicinal concoctions can be gotten from it all. I’m using her and she is happy to let me, only I’m sure she’s wanting more than to be used after my inquisitive mind and fingers are done.”

“And you don’t want more?”

“Oh, I want more. Lots more. Tons more.”

“I know you would never hurt her,” she assured.

“Really? What if I get to the end of my learning and get bored and want to move on? Don’t look at me like that’s not possible, you know how I am. I go from one thing to the next learning what can be learned. I catalog and I’m done. I can’t do that to her.”

“Sounds like you already did.”

“Fuck,” he grit, knowing she was right.

“Patches is coming,” she announced, stopping him in his dumbfounded tracks. “He heard about your newest collection and wanted to bring supplies.”

“Supplies for what? What supplies could he possibly have that I don’t, that I would ever even use? Why are you grinning, did you do that on purpose?”

“Maybe,” she said, shamelessly.

“Why, Madam! I don’t need this added conflict.”

“I think maybe you do.”

“What are you hoping to accomplish? I don’t trust myself with her.”

“What does that mean?” she cried like he were being silly.

“She…does things to me that I can’t explain. You’re nodding like you know, then tell me. What is it? And don’t say I’m in love because I know what I’m in, I’m in complete psychotic obsession with everything about her. For now,” he reminded with a finger in the air.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Lee,” she cooed.

“I need to get back. When is he coming? Can you cancel?”

She shook her head like she could but wouldn’t.

Infuriating woman.

“Maybe she will attach to Patches.”

The idea made his blood thicken with lethal intent. “Cute,” he grit at her before leaving.

“See you this afternoon,” she called.

Maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe he would take Tully away from there. He had money. He had no reasons to stay there or in The Twelve. He was free to do whatever he wanted. Fuck, he didn’t have time for that. He only had time to prepare her.

“Tully,” he called when he entered the house.

“In the bathroom.”

He made his way to the door. “I need to speak to you. We have company coming.”

“Company?” she asked, opening the door. His gaze lowered to the unbuttoned flannel shirt and creamy skin between the gaping material. His mouth watered instantly, a symptom of a scientific addiction that was becoming popular by demand with her.

“Yes,” he remembered to say, bringing his gaze back to her smiling one. She liked what she did to him. And the mischief in her eyes said she knew what she did and was using it to deliberately make him do what she wanted. She wanted more of what he’d given her and was prepared to seduce him to get it. And all that did was make him need to control everything more.

The make thing. She wanted him to control her and was attempting to force him to it. Or dominate her as she called it. He didn’t much care for the term but he did need that important dynamic. “One of The Twelve are coming.”

She got suddenly curious. “The Twelve?”

“I belong to a brotherhood of twelve men and one of them are coming. He’s a kind of doctor.”

“Like you?” she asked, opening the door now.

“Nothing like me. A more traditional medic.”

“Why is he coming?”

“To…bring supplies.”

He watched her walk to the bed and sit with her feet propped on the bed rail, palms behind her as her knees opened and shut, an innocent gesture if the seduction in her eyes wasn’t burning a hole through him. He suddenly wanted to lock the doors and ignore the world for the next twenty-four hours while engaging in this game she seemed bent on playing.

The question was, could he play it and use it to solve his Patch problem? He could. “I don’t want him meeting you,” he confessed.

Her knees stopped moving and she asked, “Why?”

He had no idea what the worry meant on her pretty face. “Because I don’t want him seeing you,” he clarified.

Her confusion said she was drawing the wrong conclusions. He made his way over until he stood just before her, forcing her face up. “You wanted me to…dominate you.”

She stared at him then nodded quickly as dominating ideas formed in his mind.

“When he comes…you may not look at him. Even if he speaks to you. And you will especially not touch him.”

“Why?” she whispered, excitement making her face flush.

“Because you belong to me while you’re here.” Nothing felt further from the truth. There would be no place she didn’t belong to him he realized the second he said it. He decided to leave it for now.

“And…what do I get if I’m a good girl?”

Those sexy words and the heat in her eyes jerked his cock harder than ever. “I’ll think about it. Something you’ll love.”

She swept her tongue over her lips, eying him still. “And if… I’m a bad girl?”

A lava bomb of lust flooded him with that innocent question. “Then I’ll make you pay dearly.” Fuck, had he just set himself up to watch her do everything he might want to kill for? He was sure he had. And now he wondered if it wasn’t exactly what he craved.

****

All the bracing and preparing Lesion had gone through went right out the window when he exited his shower to find Tully nowhere around. Then he heard voices. Her unmistakable musical laughter sent him to the door in only swamp pants. His guts tied in knots then lit on fire with a possessive fury at finding Patches and Tully chatting on the pier as though she’d met him out there. She glanced at his house at least three times in the span of twenty seconds, telling him she was deliberately crossing lines. Did she really think she could play him and win?

He finished dressing in his black robes and exited the house, meeting Patches on the pier while ignoring Tully’s gaze on him. “Patches,” he greeted, shaking his hand. “Been a while.”

“It has. Last time I saw you, you saved my life, I believe.”

“I remember,” he said thinking he might need to save it again. “I see you met Tully,” he said, letting himself look at her. As expected, pure mischief hid behind her lit eyes.

“I have. What a delight she is,” he said, not hiding his fascination with her.

“Madam Hag cooked. Are you here to eat?”

“I am. And to bring supplies.”

“Good. Maybe you can escort Tully to her house. I have emergency business in the swamp. If you’re gone by the time I get back, I’m sure Tully will keep you entertained.” No words had ever been harder to say. And when he looked at her, the shock on her beautiful face brought his smile. “She loves playing games,” he said. “Feel free to indulge in her charming wit. She has plenty to spare and seems to love sharing.”

He looked at Patches, not shocked to find a worried confusion on his brow. He needed to worry. Lesion headed down the pier. “I won’t be long. If you meet trouble, don’t worry. I have all the antidotes.”

“Fuck me,” he heard him barely mutter behind him.

Lesion walked out of sight and backtracked to watch what his move had cost him. Or granted him. He watched Tully from a distance, hugging her arms and looking all around with worry on her pretty face. She had every reason to worry. He watched Patches try to talk her into going with him and she shook her head several times, getting more adamant with each refusal. Lesion was ready to blow a paralysis dart right between his eyes if he didn’t take the hint real soon. Finally, he raised his hands in surrender and turned toward Madam Hag’s house while Tully got back to peering all around her. Did she suspect he hadn’t left?

He watched her head down the pier in the opposite direction of the house, giving him his answer. Did she know he’d never leave her? She seemed to, judging by the way she searched the woods for him.

“Lesion,” she began whisper calling. “Where are you?”

Where the fuck was she going? He kept his distance as she left the pier in her search. How far was she willing to go? He suddenly wanted to know.

He followed her for thirty minutes, his anger growing at how foolish she was. He gradually closed the distance between them as the sun began to quickly set. He heard her sob and let out a whistle, silencing her. He crept toward her until she was only a couple yards ahead of him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She screamed and spun to him, letting out a gasp of shock then raced over and latched her arms around his neck. His hands found her waist as he closed his eyes, feeling the soft press of her warm face into his neck. “I’m lost,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I…I just wanted…”

“To be punished,” he already knew.

“By you, yes,” she whispered, breathless.

“Do you know what kind of dangerous game you played? What if I hadn’t been out here?”

“But you were. You wouldn’t leave me.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because…” she searched his face then lowered her head. “I just know,” she whispered.

He turned her face up to his and pressed his lips on hers. The eager opening of her mouth sent his tongue plunging to devour her. His groan ripped through his chest as he fought to feel her soft body under the sheer material. His fingers found her nipple and he pinched in sheer hunger. He pulled up at the cry she gave along with new desperate whimpers that provoked him. He put her against a tree, testing it again, squeezing her nipple between his fingers. The drunk look in her gaze lit him on fire, making him need to use his teeth. He yanked the material down and devoured her breast, sucking the nipple like a starved babe before tracing every inch with his tongue. He raked his teeth and she cried out in that way that made him crazy.

“Put your hands behind your back, Tully.”

Her gasps came non-stop as he returned to nibbling her nipple, increasing the pain as he went. Fuck, could she have an orgasm this way? It fucking sounded like she was on the verge.

He worked his other hand under her dress and moved his face right before hers. “No panties,” he swore, the need to punish her becoming very authentic. “Put your foot on my cock.”

She gasped and raised her foot, pressing it against his groin as he found her clit. He lowered his mouth to her nipple and began the torment again, slowly raising the intensity as he toyed with her clit. He captured the slippery nub between his fingers and began to squeeze as he bit down harder on her nipple, bringing an orgasm of stifled screams. He caught her in his arms when her legs gave out. “I’m far from done with you, Tully,” he swore, heading back to the house with her in his arms.

Chapter Eight

Revelator set Cherie’s plate in the sink, ready to get it all over with. “It’s time we have that talk,” he said, already knowing he’d get resistance. How much was the question. It didn’t matter. She needed to tell him everything without any kind of coercion from him.

He made his way to the fire and added several logs before taking a seat on the foot stool, casting a glance at her.

“I did things in college I’m not proud of,” she began, keeping her eyes on the fire. He set his gaze on it as well, waiting for the details he was sure she’d leave off. “I had a friend who invited me to a party with other friends. One thing led to another at this party and I was involved in sexual debauchery I didn’t approve of. I never told anybody because I knew it wouldn’t do any good, these kids were offspring of reputable families. As was I, and I surely didn’t want to shame them with what had happened.”

“You’re telling me you wanted this to happen?”

“Of course not,” she said, her tone going harder.

“Then why would it shame your family if you told?”

“Because I was stupid enough to let it happen. I should’ve seen that coming.”

“Really,” he said, recalling the little he’d seen when he’d touched her. “That’s not what I recall when I saw pieces of the incident.”

“So why am I telling you at all? Why not touch me and see it all for yourself.”

“Because it’s important for you to tell me.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Because evil hides its deeds in the darkness and I’m not allowing that anywhere near this light.”

“What light?” she asked, looking at him. “Your light?”

“And yours.”

She scoffed, aiming her gaze at the fire again. “There’s no light here.”

His head shook a little. “Is that what you believe?”

“That’s what I know,” she corrected softly, still holding her eyes to the flame.

“Well, you know wrong. Tell me about the one who hurt you in college. Who was he to you?”

“A friend,” she repeated. “As I said.”

“He was more than a friend.”

She shrugged, wiping quickly at the tears falling. “So what if he was? He’s not anymore.”

Her pain pierced him, making him need to heal that wound. “No, he’s not anymore. Now, he’s nothing and nobody but a memory the demons use to torment you with.”

“I’m not tormented,” she whispered.

“You’ve been tormented from the day I met you,” he assured. “And I’ve been dying to get my hands around the throats of your demons ever since.”

She finally looked at him. “Is that what you’re doing? Coming to strangle my demons?”

He stared at her. “I am.”

“And if they still have their fingers around my throat?”

“Then they’ll have to let go.”

“And if they refuse?” she whispered, tears falling again.

He slowly shook his head. “They won’t.” He turned more toward her, putting his elbows on his knees. “Tell me what they did to you.”

“Why?” she gasped, confused. “Why do I need to dig up those evil things? Do you want me to relive it?”

“No, I want you to bring it out so that I can judge it, Cherie, and send it to hell where it belongs.”

“Can’t you just…send it without that?” she whispered, looking at her lap while wiping the tears pouring now.

“Do you know what kind of hell I’m willing to go through to protect you? If there was an easier way to do this, you think I wouldn’t do it? Tell me what they did to you.”

“They raped me!” she shot out.

“Who raped you?”

A sob escaped her as she fought to catch her breath. “All of them,” she gasped. “I didn’t even know most of them, they just kept coming and hurting me and they never stopped, okay? They beat me and called me names,” she said, holding her chest. “They called me a fat cow and made animal noises while hurting me and mocked the way I cried.”

Revelator had to stand and pace when her pain suffocated him.

“They were my best friends!” she suddenly yelled at him, bitter sobs wracking her.

He resisted touching her, needing her to get it all out before he did.

“I wanted to tell my daddy, I knew he’d believe me. But then he’d kill them and go to prison for it, so I didn’t. I was the stupid naïve one, I was the one who believed the best about people, tried to help people, and they did that to me!”

Revelator lowered next to her and pulled her into his embrace, holding her tight. “Shhhhhh, okay I got you. What they did was wrong, so wrong, Cherie. They hurt my angel, but they can’t hurt her anymore.” He held her face and kissed it all over. “You’re mine and nothing and nobody will ever hurt you, do you hear me? Tell me you hear me.”

“I hear you,” she cried hoarsely.

“Today, right now, I declare to the demons in your past—Cherie is mine. You have no more right to her. I command you to leave her mind and heart and go to the depths of hell where you came from. I’m breaking this curse by the authority and power of my love.” He put his hand on her head and closed his eyes, pulling the darkness to him. “Leave her,” he hissed, watching the light spread out like a scattershot in the void before kissing her with all the passion he had, mending the bloody wound with every breath.

When her soft moans of wonder filled his ears, he knew it was done and time for the next demon. He nipped softly at her lips, stroking her face. “I love you more than my own life. Know this.”

She nodded and kissed him back, her hunger getting explosive. He grabbed her hands and lowered them to her lap before he wasn’t able to. “Not yet Cherie. First you have to tell me what happened after college. I have to hear all of it.”

She searched his eyes as he gazed at her, seeming to realize there was no way out finally. She lowered her head, fresh tears pouring as if she’d just confessed the easy stuff.

“I…I tried to heal from what happened,” she whispered. “But…I felt so…stupid and dirty. I ended up homeless and jobless and…got involved in…” She aimed her teary eyes at him, her face crimped with shame. “Prostitution. I…slept with anybody and everybody.” She shook her head. “Not for food and housing, but for the drugs. They made me forget everything, I just wanted to forget what happened and who I’d become. And then…if I wasn’t evil enough, I started helping my pimp find other innocent girls to trap in that horrible life! For drugs, Samuel, I entrapped innocent girls for a fucking high,” she gasped, covering her mouth. “Why shouldn’t the worst things come to me? They should and they did!”

She fought him this time when he wrapped his arms around her. “Get off me! I don’t deserve forgiveness!”

“None of us do!” he yelled, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. “None of us deserve it, do you understand? God’s mercy isn’t for the worthy ones, it’s for those stolen by the enemy the way you were.”

“I wasn’t stolen,” she shot back hotly.

“Bullshit, Cherie,” he grit, grabbing her hands tightly. “If what happened to you happened to Tully, would you say that?”

“Tully was a child and I entrapped her in that hell,” she yelled at him.

“Because you were entrapped!” he yelled right back. You were an angel when they did that to you and you know it, don’t speak those lies to me. I see you! I saw you that night when they ripped your heart from your chest, it was pure. Try and fight that, I dare you, I fucking dare your biggest demon, right now.”

She fell into him and he wrapped his arms around her tight, holding her head to his chest, winded. He closed his eyes, drawing the darkness to him again. “By the power and authority of my love, I command the demons holding my wife to let her fucking go.” Again he kissed her, forcing her mouth open to take his truth, writing it with every breath and moan on their hearts and minds.

Revelator knew there was one more hiding in her. He’d wait a while and let her rest before he tackled it. He sensed with every bit of his seeing that what was coming would shake him.

He carried her to the bed and lay her down, kissing her forehead. “Sleep, my angel,” he whispered next to her ear. “I need you strong.”

She didn’t protest but slipped immediately into sleep while Revelator spent the next two hours in his swamp sanctuary. He got prostrate before God and begged for the strength he’d need to overcome this next fight.

By the time Revelator returned to the house, Cherie was in the shower. He hoped she rested because she was going to need it. He saw just enough while praying to know they were about to fight. And not just with her demons.

He paced in his kitchen, considering his options. He had to finish this. He had to know what she was hiding. And if he had to bind her in order to loose her, then that’s what he’d do.

He went to his closet and pulled out rope then looked around, spotting the bed posts. He brought the rope to the bed and created two slip knots for her arms. He considered the worst-case scenario and created two more at the foot of the bed for her legs. She’d been healing for only two days and he couldn’t risk injuring her again.

The tea.

Revelator hurried to the fireplace and put water on then gathered the mix Lesion left. The muscle relaxant would help loosen her.

He straightened from the fire, pouring hot water into the cup right as Cherie exited the bathroom. She made her way over to him and he handed her the cup. “Drink this,” he said, stroking her cheek then leaning to kiss it.

She took the cup and sipped without fuss then sat in the chair near the fireplace as he took the stool next to it. He angled his head at her. “The shower help?” His gaze moved over her breasts, naked under the white t-shirt. Hunger speared his gut to have her.

She gave a nod. “How’s my beautiful savior holding up?” she asked, eying him over the rim of the metal cup.

“Tired,” he said, beyond ready to defeat her darkness so he could love her.

“I’m a lot of trouble,” she whispered, staring in her cup.

“You are,” he said, aiming his grin at her. “But you’re worth it.”

Tears fell unchecked down her cheeks, clenching his heart. “Why do you love me?” she barely whispered, the crimp in her face bringing him to his knees at her side.

“Because you saved me,” he whispered, stroking his fingers along her face. “That day on the road, I was a man lost in his own darkness. You broke me out of that with your light.”

She met his gaze, blinking as she held his hand against her face. “You really saw light in me?”

He nodded with a certainty. “Beautiful and billowing,” he whispered, touching her chest. “From here.”

She choked out a sob and looked up at him. “There’s…something else I need to tell you, Samuel,” she whispered, tears pouring again.

He barely nodded, bringing his lips to her cheek as she wept bitterly. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, his lips devouring her cries as he lay her down. “Shhhhh,” he whispered, raising up and removing his shirt then the rest of his clothes. He kissed her again, his breath rushing out at the eager stroke of her fingers along his chest and sides. He lifted the hem of her shirt and removed it then focused on the black shorts, removing those next.

He crawled over her body, his gaze taking in all that was his. He straddled her chest on his knees, her drunken gaze imprisoning his cock in its hot grip. “Put your hands above your head,” he ordered, sliding his finger over her lips. She closed her eyes, breathless, doing as he said.

He slid the rope over one wrist and she pulled in response, tightening it. She looked at him as he stroked his fist along his cock, her fear burning up with instant lust. She captured his shaft with her free hand and he allowed her to jack him off, allowed the fire to build, thrusting his hips for a glorious ten seconds. He forced himself from the flames and removed her hand, moving it in the second rope.

Again she pulled, tightening it, her gasp hitting the head of his cock as he pushed it in and out of her lips.

“My queen,” he whispered, going deeper as he stared into her eyes. “Suck your king.”

She moaned and he dropped his head back, moving his hips along the sharp edges of her teeth, hissing in the rapturous fire. He brought his gaze back to hers and locked it there till she brought his orgasm that lasted for an eternal fiery minute.

He pulled his cock slowly from her lips, allowing her to cover the head with satisfied moans before he climbed off and sat next to her. She met his gaze as his breaths slowed with his pulse. “Are you ready, Cherie?”

She stared at his mouth. “Ready for what?”

“To tell me about Lazarus.”

****

Cherie’s heart skipped several beats at hearing that name from his mouth. “How do you know that name?” she whispered.

He angled his handsome face at her. “I saw him when I touched a demon not long ago.”

“Why…do you think I know him?”

“Because I saw they’re hunting you. They think you’re going to kill him.”

“Me?”

The shock in her face meant she was definitely in the dark. “I never intend on seeing him again.”

“Tell me how you know him.”

“He’s…one of the bad people I got caught up with. Why did you tie me?”

“Because I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Why would I get hurt?”

She stared at his lowered profile, his beauty distracting even with her ugliest nightmare on the table. “You wouldn’t…if you were able to confess.”

“Confess what?” Her heart hammered as she wondered what he knew. Was he bluffing?

“The thing you’re hiding from me.”

At realizing he didn’t know, her pulse scattered with the need to run and hide. She couldn’t tell him that. It would change everything for them.

“Cherie,” he mumbled, shaking his lowered head. “Don’t hide from me.”

“I can’t Samuel,” she whispered.

“You can’t or you won’t,” he said, his intense blue eyes on her.

She swallowed, understanding suddenly why she was tied. The urge to run itched in her muscles. But there was no running from him. Wasn’t it always supposed to come to this? Her facing the music? Wasn’t that what she’d deemed herself worthy of?

So face it, you coward.

He suddenly turned, his body hovering over hers, then slowly settling onto her. She couldn’t resist the gasp from how good he felt, his beautiful body pressing into her, his cock hard and hot against her leg. His mouth covered hers in a hungry kiss, driving all the demons back. When he pulled up and stared at her, they came racing back in, whispering how dirty and wrong it all was, would always be.

He lowered his head next to hers. “Tell me about the man they think you’re going to kill, Cherie.” The whispered words at her ear made her skin crawl.

Tell him. Just tell him.

“He…”

Samuel pulled up, staring at her then kissed at the edge of her mouth, his lips tender. “Bring the demon into the light for me.”

For him. Her breaths came faster as she pulled up the ugly truth and let it onto her tongue. She opened her mouth and a sob gushed out.

“Give me the demon, Cherie,” he demanded, his breaths unsteady now. “He’s mine. Don’t hide him.”

“He…he took me in and…made me do things,” she gasped.

“What things?”

“Stop…kissing me,” she whispered, fighting to get away from his lips on her neck.

“I will never stop kissing you.” His mouth covered hers, his tongue hungry and demanding. Then he gripped her jaw and forced it open, filling her mouth and mind and heart.

“Samuel, make love to me.”

“Not yet,” he said, winded above her. “Not while that demon is hiding in my wife,” he swore.

She closed her eyes, tears pouring out.

“What did he make you do, Cherie?”

“Why does it matter!” she screamed, her fury instant and hot. “He made me do evil things! So evil!”

“Tell me!” he thundered right in her face, his rage making her gasp and tremble.

“He…he made me…” She clenched her eyes shut. “Marry him,” she gasped. “And have a baby. And he…took it from me.”

She turned her face away and he forced it back. “Look at me,” he whispered, his voice rough and labored.

She did, hardly able to stand the sight of his shock and fury. “He married you?” he repeated, like the words weren’t English. “And…took your child?”

A sob burst forth and they didn’t stop, they just came and came until she wailed from the shame and agony. “He killed my baby!” The word tore from her chest, and the pain rushed in and ripped her to pieces. “He killed my baaaabyyyyy.”

Samuel shot off the bed and she realized he was pacing next to it. He started mumbling heated words about what things meant. “That’s why she’s the one who kills him. Because of me.”

“What are you doing?” she sobbed, watching him dress. He didn’t answer her as he pulled his t-shirt on and hurried to the closet. “Samuel, please talk to me,” she cried as he put on his boots and coat.

He came to the bed and held her face, kissing her until she had no breath. He pulled up and stroked her face with his warm, strong hands. “I’m going to kill that bastard for hurting my wife and murdering our child. What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is surely fucking mine.” He stood and leveled an ominous gaze on her. “You do kill Lazarus. Your confession just sealed his fate. ”

Chapter Nine

Revelator called Lesion and let him know what was going on. “You need me?” he asked, sounding eager. “I have unfinished business there for Tully.”

Darius. That Lesion wanted to kill him meant he’d fallen for the girl as he’d seen he would.

 “We got one final ride,” he muttered. “I’ll call Bishop. Meet me at the Dry Dock.”

“Be there in an hour.”

Revelator hung up and dialed Bishop, conveying everything.

“What about Cherie?” he asked.

“She’s restrained here so I was hoping your Belle Eveque could come and set her free once I’m gone. And I need somebody big enough here to ensure Cherie doesn’t try to leave.”

“Nitro’s here at the Dry Dock. I’ll see if he can go babysit and bring Beth with him. I’ll see you when you get here.”

Thirty minutes later, Cherie’s screams followed him down the pier as he hurried to meet Nitro and Beth. “Can’t be sure what she’ll do when you untie her, so, be ready,” he told Nitro. He eyed Beth. “She’ll need clothes before Nitro enters.”

Beth nodded and looked up at Nitro who stood two heads taller than her. “You can wait outside?”

Nitro nodded, and Revelator suddenly felt the need to get reacquainted with the man. Without asking, Nitro put his hand out and Revelator shook it, staring into the man’s two different colored eyes. An injury from an explosion, he remembered.

Revelator released his hand when he sensed nothing more unusual than the standard unusual with him. “We good?” Nitro asked, his voice reminding him of a sawed-off shotgun.

“We are,” he nodded. “Belle Eveque. Thank you for coming.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she said, saluting him while glancing nervously toward his house. “She sure is screaming.”

“She’s pretty upset.”

“I see that.”

“I’ll let her tell you whatever she’s comfortable telling you,” Revelator said, looking at Nitro now. “You have my number. I’ll call in an hour for an update. Call me before that if you think you need to.”  

****

Revelator eyed the land dragon Bishop had been trying so hard to give him. “Guess it’s time to break her in,” he muttered, sliding his hand over the machine.

“About time,” Bishop said. “Let me get all your gear.”

Revelator watched Bishop hurry off, his generosity weighing on his shoulders. “I’ll pay you what she’s worth,” he said when he returned.

“Like hell you will.” He tossed leather attire on the seat and handed him a helmet with a grin.

Revelator eyed the skull with the blue eyes and the title “The Seer” in gothic script. “You see something I need to know about, Little Bishop?” he asked, curious about the whole set up now, eying the matching symbol on the tank of the bike and back fender.

“Just hopeful designing,” he said, crossing his arms with open pride at his work.

“She’s certainly a creative beauty,” he said, moving around the mostly matte black machine with the brilliant blue skull eyes and script on the emblems.

“She’s one of my favorites.”

“I can see why.”

“You have a lot to do with that,” Bishop said, cinching the brotherhood in their bond that much more.

The sound of another Land Dragon roared to life and Revelator turned as Lesion climbed on his. Another glorious machine. His was a lot like Revelator’s only trimmed in a royal purple, with a long ass snake and the name Lesion in fancy purple font along the tank. He realized the numbers and symbols on the snake were purple as well, a testament of Bishops dedication to detail.  

After they loaded everything needed, they headed for the long bridge. Revelator was glad to know the six demons from New Orleans that had followed them home were being primed for honest conversation at The Weigh Station. Something told him that Lazarus was just the scab on a festering boil and when he removed it, shit would ooze. Those six would tell him all about what oozed.

Ten miles of riding and Revelator felt like a second skin on the Land Dragon again. He had to wonder if the rumble of the beast had always fondled his balls that way or was that something Cherie woke in him.

They arrived at their destination at dusk just as they’d planned. Would be a repeat of what they’d done before, getting a room so Lesion could clean out any cobwebs and clear the path for those kill shots Revelator needed. He wasn’t particular with how he’d do it, just so he ended his evil reign and that farce of a marriage he’d entangled his wife in.

“How’s Tully,” Revelator asked as Lesion prepared to give him the dose to put him out.

He raised only his gaze as he prepped his arm. “Why do you ask, Seer?”

Revelator had to grin that he’d used that name. “Why do you think?”

“It’s as you see, I’d say.”

“Is it,” he muttered.

“What is?” Bishop wondered.

Revelator angled his head. “Just that Lesion’s in love.” He hissed with the jab of the needle into his arm, eying the Medicine Man with a chuckle.

“Really,” Bishop said, amazed.

“Love is a strong word,” Lesion muttered, putting his supplies back as the room began to spin.

“Right,” Revelator mumbled, hardly able to lift his tongue. “A very strong word.”

Everything went dark until those sparks of light came. One then two, then a million, shooting through his mind till he had to hold on. Like before, the future sped through his brain like a movie starting from the end on rapid rewind, taking him all the way till present time where he bolted up in the bed from the most terrifying tomb of knowing he’d experienced.

“It worked again,” Bishop said, making him wonder how long he was out as he fought to catch his breath and wrap his mind around what he’d seen.

“How was it?” Lesion asked.

He eyed him, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. “I see things in reverse. From the end to the beginning but it moves almost too fast to catch everything.”

“I can adjust that,” he said, eying him. “So what did you see?”

Revelator stared at him and shook his head. “I’m not exactly sure what I saw. I just know we’re rescuing somebody again.”

Lesion eyed him for many seconds. “Who?”

“His name is Raphael.”

“Who is he?” Bishop wondered.

Revelator shook his head. “Somebody very important to the coven. That’s all I could see.”

****

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AUTHOR LUCIAN BANE