Read The Sylph Hunter Online

Authors: L. J. McDonald

The Sylph Hunter (11 page)

Zalia started to cry.

Orlil glared at her in disgust. “Stop crying, you stupid little—” He looked up. “Who are you?”

Zalia looked around. One-Eleven was standing in the doorway, one hand resting on the frame and the other a fist against his hip as he looked in, so much in shadow that he was hard to see. The shadow of his face turned toward her and she felt something from him. Not lust this time, she felt comfort instead, covering her as though it were a blanket. How could he affect so deeply what she felt? she wondered. She clung to the comfort, suddenly wanting to go to him.

“Please go upstairs, sir,” Orlil said, obviously mistaking the battler for a customer. He rose to his feet. “Someone will be there to serve you.”

One-Eleven’s face turned toward him, indistinct in the darkness. “You made her cry,” he said.

“Oh, yes, well, just a little discipline for—”

“You frightened her and made her cry.” One-Eleven walked into the room, his face emerging into the light as he came in, his inhuman beauty revealing itself as he stopped beside Zalia, one hand trailing down to lovingly touch her hair. He never took his gaze off of Orlil. “You called her a whore.”

“Well, I’m sorry if you misheard, sir—”

One-Eleven’s eyes suddenly changed, swirling to red ball lightning as his mouth filled with flame. “I don’t like the way you talked to her.”

Orlil screamed, throwing himself backward in terror, his eyes huge. There was nowhere for him to go in the small office and his back slammed into one of the wooden file cabinets he kept there. One-Eleven was on him an instant later, one hand holding him down by the throat while the other drew back, fingers changed to vicious claws.

Zalia shrieked and threw herself at him, grabbing that arm and trying to hold it back with all her strength. Orlil was gibbering in terror, scrabbling at the hand that held him by the throat while urine stained the front of his pants. Even in the poor light, she could see how terrified he was.

“Stop!” she wailed. “Please stop! Don’t kill him!”

One-Eleven looked down at her, his expression puzzled. “He hurt you,” he pointed out.

Zalia shook her head frantically, pulling on the arm while she pressed her side against him, trying to move him away. He let her, stepping back and releasing Orlil. The scrawny man dropped to his knees, choking.

“Don’t hurt him,” Zalia told him. “Please. I just want my job back, my job
here
. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” One-Eleven looked at Orlil. “So?”

The man looked up in terror. “Yes, yes! She has a job as long as she wants!”

One-Eleven’s nose lifted. “For more money. I hear that stuff’s useful. And better hours. I want time to play with her every day.”

“Yes!” Orlil agreed, nodding frantically. “She can work half days for twice the money!”

“Good,” he nodded. “Double that.” He gestured to the door. “Get out.”

Orlil fled, his sandals slapping against the floor as he fled to the stairs.

Zalia gaped after him, not really grasping yet what just happened. She just stood there, staring at the doorway with her mouth hanging open, too numb after everything to even think yet. Orlil would want to kill her for this humiliation, but if he did, One-Eleven would kill him. She was safe.

Or not. Desire spread through her again, flooding her despite her stress. “Zalia,” the battler breathed, standing behind her as his fingers touched her shoulder and traced down her arm. His warmth moved against her back and his mouth pressed against the side of her neck, his lips burning hot. “Zalia,” he whispered again.

Zalia shuddered, lust she wasn’t sure was her own flooding through her, making her nipples perk and her belly tighten almost painfully as she stood there, head tilted back with eyes closed and gasping for breath. The cold of the room suddenly didn’t seem to be cool enough as he reached around, fingers carefully undoing the buttons of her dress.

She should stop him right now, tell him no and get out. She didn’t want to be the lover to a battle sylph and she was falling in love with Devon Chole, she was sure of it. She didn’t want to be taken by a sylph in a place where anyone could walk in, without even agreeing to it, without even knowing anything about him other than that he wasn’t human. The pleasure of his touch had her though and she only managed to gasp again as he fully undid the dress and pulled it back over her shoulders, letting it slip to the ground.

Zalia wasn’t wearing a wrap for her chest, her small breasts brown and quivering. One-Eleven stroked them, cupping them in his hands and swirling his hands around them, his fingers touching her nipples and pinching them gently. She jumped with a tiny squeal, afraid to make too loud a sound, afraid to do anything. She wasn’t participating, she told herself. This was all being done to her and oh, it felt so good. It wasn’t her fault though and she wasn’t a whore. She could say stop at any time, no matter how badly her body wanted it.

One-Eleven stood behind her, kissing her neck on each side while his hands massaged her breasts. Trailing his kisses around to the back of her neck, he worked his way down, bringing his hands down to the tie of her undergarment and undoing it. She drew in a breath to stop him then, but the fabric dropped to the floor along with her dress, and his hand cupped her mound, his long fingers curled around to sink into her dampness.

Zalia’s sudden orgasm bucked through her, making her shake with pleasure, even as her knees gave out. One-Eleven caught her and lifted her up, and she found herself suddenly lying on her back on Orlil’s desk, staring hazily up at the battler as he stripped off his shirt and dropped his trousers, his eyes never leaving hers. She looked down nervously to see the erect length of him and he leaned forward, kissing her aching nipples again before he looked at her.

“I’m going to make love to you,” he whispered.

Zalia gasped, the core of her clenching, screaming for him. Her hands tangled in his hair, lost, even as he spread her legs wide to either side of him and kissed his way back down to the untouched land between them.

“You smell so good,” he breathed and dropped his head to taste her deeply.

Zalia almost choked holding in her scream, her head thrown back over the edge of the desk as her back arched with a second orgasm, every muscle inside her tightening with pleasure. One-Eleven was nuzzling her, licking her with her legs up over his shoulders, and in seconds, yet another orgasm flooded through her, making her fingers grab his hair while her legs clenched on either side of his head. She shuddered uncontrollably, but he held her hips still, slowly licking her and gently pressing his warm soft tongue against a small hard knob of flesh above her opening until a fourth orgasm rocked her, making her buck on the desk until her back hurt.

This last rush of pleasure also drained her, clearing her head enough to think again as he pulled back and kissed her inner thighs, sending more tingles through her. Still, a flush rose to her cheeks at seeing herself lying nude and wanton there, ready to let him do whatever he wanted to her, and she had been, hadn’t she? All while just lying there and giving the responsibility all to him. It wasn’t
her
fault, then. Only it was, wasn’t it? She was just as much a participant as the battle sylph and she was lying to herself to think otherwise.

The only problem was, she didn’t know if she really wanted this at all. The pleasure was overwhelming, but how much of it was her and how much was what he was making her feel? She didn’t know anything about him at all and she was interested in Devon as well. Was it fair to him for her to make love to a battle sylph? Was it fair to One-Eleven to suddenly back out now, after he’d already made her feel so good, and after he’d saved her job?

She did know, however, that she definitely didn’t want to lose her virginity lying across her boss’s desk while everyone she worked with was upstairs, possibly talking about the two of them. She didn’t want to feel ashamed later either. One-Eleven definitely didn’t deserve that.

Zalia took a deep breath, her fingers tightening over the edge of the desk as she braced herself to tell him, even while the pleasure grew inside her again. Ultimately, she didn’t need to say anything as the battler lifted his head, looking at her for a moment in exasperation before he sighed.

“I should have spent less time on foreplay,” he said ruefully and straightened up. Leaning over her, he pulled her up until she was sitting on the desk and kissed her. It was the first time he’d actually kissed her mouth and Zalia relaxed into it after a startled moment. It was definitely easier than what he’d been doing before and her arms looped around his neck, her chilled body enjoying the warmth of him as he moved his lips against hers, his tongue gently touching hers. She was still sitting on the desk with him standing nude between her bare legs, but the lust was eased, One-Eleven backing down. Ultimately, Zalia felt a lot of gratitude at that.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered at last, when he finally pulled away. “I just…” Her lip twisted. “I just don’t know anything about you! I mean, what do you like?” He grinned and she blushed. “That’s not what I meant. I just…I can’t make…love to someone I’m not in love with.”

“You don’t love me?” he asked.

“I don’t know you!” she cried. “I’m so grateful for what you just did about my job, but I don’t know you. I’m not like this.”

“Okay,” he sighed and kissed her forehead gently before running the back of one finger down her cheek. “I want to get to know you too. I just figured I’d really get to know you first.”

She blushed again. It felt as though she’d never stop. She wasn’t really too embarrassed to be sitting there with him though, not after what they’d just been doing and how he’d made her feel. “I’m sorry,” she said again. He raised an eyebrow. “You…I mean you made me feel fantastic and I didn’t…I mean…”

He smiled. “I can feel what you do. Trust me, I enjoyed it.” He kissed her forehead again. “I can feel you’re getting cold too.”

She was. One-Eleven stepped back and Zalia hopped down, grabbing up her dress and undergarment and dressing as quickly as she could. One-Eleven ducked in to kiss her neck again and she touched his cheek for a moment, still not sure how she felt about their intimacy. “I have to go back to work.”

“I got you shorter hours,” he pointed out.

“I know…” She looked down. “I have to think.”

“Okay.” He kissed her forehead again and her eyes fluttered closed. “I have to go on guard duty in a little while anyway.”
He walked her out, following her up the stairs. Once there, Ilaja looked over at her in amazement while Orlil hurried over, his face still pale, and counted out more money into Zalia’s hand than she’d ever seen before. One-Eleven watched critically while he did.

“Your shift is until the noon hour,” Orlil told her, looking at One-Eleven for confirmation. The battler thought it over and nodded.

“Plus she gets every third day off,” he added.

Orlil winced. “Every third day,” he repeated.

“Starting tomorrow,” One-Eleven smirked and walked away. Orlil bleakly watched him go and then looked at Zalia for a moment, his expression blank. Turning, he went away, leaving her standing there holding a handful of gold and wondering if she should feel bad about finally being paid enough to live on. She could pay for a real home with this, and afford good food for herself and her father, as well as clean clothes and actual baths.

Ilaja edged up to her, her voice laced with contempt. “And you said you weren’t a whore,” she growled and walked away.

Zalia gripped the gold so tightly that her hand started to hurt and it was a while before she went to re-collect her tray.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I
t took them a long time to get back to the surface. Gel, Shasha’s master, didn’t fully regain consciousness, only staring numbly at them for a moment while Devon and Xehm put his arms over their shoulders before his head dropped down again, sagging limply. Devon wasn’t sure if he was injured or just deep in shock.

At least Shasha didn’t need help. Devon wasn’t sure he could have moved the other sylph at all if she hadn’t been able to walk. She trudged slowly ahead of them, obviously tired, but determined to keep going. He hoped she could get herself to the surface since he doubted that Airi would be strong enough to carry her. She’d have enough trouble just getting the humans up there.

She pressed against his neck, cool against his spine.
I don’t like it down here,
she said.

“Neither do I,” Devon muttered. Xehm looked toward him and he jerked his chin over his shoulder. “Just talking to my sylph,” he explained. The old man nodded and returned to his thoughts, which from the tightness of his jaw didn’t seem to be peaceful. “You can get us up there?” Devon asked Airi.

Yes. I’ll need to feed though. It’s hard work.

Devon nodded. He’d expected that. Airi fed off his life energy, but it was rare she took enough that he was aware of it. He suspected he would this time. He looked at Shasha’s back as she stomped heavily along ahead of them. It was beautiful and bare, but the color and consistency of marble. “Why didn’t she call the battlers?” he asked Airi. Xehm shot another look in his direction, though of course, he wouldn’t be able to hear the answer.

Airi’s answer was long and hesitant in coming.
Because no matter what they would say, they can’t help,
she said.
They would have died too.

Devon frowned, the thought of a battler being helpless too alien a concept for him to comprehend. “How can that be?” He’d seen battlers fight, far too many times. They were unstoppable, unless they were killed by another of their kind.

Hunters are the invisible death,
Airi told him. She sounded stressed.
No one’s ever seen one. All we know is, if one comes, we die. No warning, no yelling for help, no trace. We just die. All the rest of us can do is hide in the hive and hope the food lasts long enough for the Hunter to go. It’s said even battlers can’t kill them.

“So that’s why Shasha didn’t call them,” Devon murmured, watching the earth sylph lead the way.

No. They come to where groups of us are. Worse, it hears us if we yell for help. It would have found Shasha if she called them. Killed them and found her.

Devon closed his eyes for a moment, wishing he wasn’t here, that he hadn’t come, and most of all, that Zalia was with her father at his side so that he could make sure she was safe. “Where is the Hunter now?” he asked.

I don’t know. Maybe it went back through the gate?
She sounded hopeful.

Devon thought of the harbor and that blood on the
Racing Dawn,
far
away on the ocean side of the city. “Do you really think that?”

No,
she whimpered.
I want to though.

So did he. “It’ll be okay,” he murmured.

Promise?

“I promise.”

They reached the end of the passageway then, the ruin of the cages beyond even more ominous now that Devon knew what sort of creature actually destroyed them. After whatever damage the battlers did, something huge had drilled its way up through the racks of cages. Shasha stopped at the edge, fidgeting as she looked out and upward.

Devon could guess what had her so nervous. “It’s not there,” he assured her. “We went through earlier. It’s safe.”

Shasha turned and looked at Devon over her shoulder, her oddly beautiful face expressionless. “Nowhere is safe,” she said to him, her voice earthy and deep. “We have nowhere to retreat.”

Xehm frowned at the earth sylph, having only heard Devon’s half of his conversation with Airi. “The battle sylphs will destroy this thing,” he assured her. “Whatever it is.”

Shasha turned her ruby gaze on to the old man. “A Hunter came to my home hive. So many battle sylphs died that another hive came. My queen died. I went through the gate.” She looked back into the great chamber and steeled her shoulders, striding forward. Making her way over to the tangle of caging, she started to climb as easily as if she were walking up a flight of stairs.

Devon looked over at Xehm to find the old man staring back at him, his eyes fearful. “What can kill battlers?” Xehm mourned.

Devon just shook his head helplessly, not knowing how to answer that.

It was past noon when they got out of the tunnels, the air outside scorching hot but a relief after the silence and death of the underground. Shasha led the way out, again moving uncertainly at the exit, obviously fearful of being attacked, but then walking with more confidence when she saw a human moving around outside the small building that held the entrance.

Devon was pleasantly surprised when that person turned out to be Zalia.

“Zalia!” her father gasped, rushing forward to embrace his daughter and leaving Devon with Gel. Gel had recovered some of his senses while Airi lifted them up to the surface and he pushed away a bit to stand on his own, shivering and silent. Shasha walked over to pat his hand reassuringly. Airi pressed against Devon’s back, mostly asleep from the effort of lifting them so high on top of helping Shasha.

Zalia hugged her father, saying things to him in a low tone that he exclaimed at in surprise. Devon saw her flush red at one point, shaking her head, and hand her father a small pouch that he took with an expression of wonder.

“We need to hurry,” Devon called to them. Nice as it was to see Zalia, they had to get moving. Shasha didn’t have direct access to the queen; earth sylphs couldn’t fly, but she could take them to those who did. Devon looked up at the small palace floating over the city. It should have occurred to him sooner that she’d be up there.

For now, they’d be traveling on the ground, and for once in his life, Devon was unnerved at the thought of doing so. Suddenly, the wide-open air and shadows of the city were frightening, knowing as he did that there was something invisible out there that would kill all of them too quickly to even give a warning. He squinted, trying to peer through the blistering noon sunshine, but all he could see was the haze that shimmered the buildings and some sort of weird desert mirage like a giant egg off toward the ocean. Just looking at them made his eyes ache and he closed them for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Let me help him,” Xehm said suddenly, having returned. He took Gel’s arms, gently speaking to the dazed man as he led him away. Shasha walked ahead of them. Devon found himself standing with Zalia and flushed nervously, looking at the ground when he found himself unwittingly staring into her deep black eyes. Airi pressed against his shoulders, mumbling something that might have been encouragement if she’d been completely awake.

“I thought you had to work today,” he said, painfully aware of how pathetic he sounded, as well as the fact that her father had taken everyone else ahead to give them some privacy. At least he wasn’t worrying about the Hunter killing them in the next breath anymore. Devon was so focused on Zalia that the possibility wasn’t even in his thoughts.

Zalia ducked her head, shyly wringing her hands together before herself. “I…I have the rest of the day off. I only work mornings now, with tomorrow and then every third day off.”

Devon blinked and looked directly at her again. “How’d you manage that?” he asked. He’d thought there weren’t any rules giving workers rights in Meridal, unlike back at home.

She turned bright red, the color of it barely showing through her hanging hair. “My employer…he was yelling at me for being late…and a battle sylph came.”

“Oh,” Devon breathed. That was one thing the creatures were good for. No woman in Sylph Valley had to worry about being abused. In fact, it was unusual for the battler to go so easy on the man. Devon doubted there were any orders from the queen containing their behavior here. “I’m surprised he didn’t kill him,” he admitted.

Zalia looked up again, her eyes tired and her blush already fading. “I begged him not to. I didn’t want anyone dying because of me.”

Devon smiled and reached out to touch his fingertips to the edge of her soft jaw before he could think about it. “Good for you,” he told her.

Zalia smiled at him and reached up with her small brown hand to lay it over his pale, sunburned one. Devon’s heart started hammering again. “Thank you,” she said.

They both stared at each other, shy and speechless, but it was hot out and the roads weren’t completely deserted. Finally they had to return their attention to their surroundings or risk being left behind. Xehm was already a few hundred feet away with both Gel and Shasha and the two of them hurried after them until they were only a dozen or so feet behind.

“Do you like having more free time?” Devon asked her.

She put both her palms against her cheeks, her eyes wide. “I don’t know what to do with myself! I feel so decadent.”

He laughed. “I’m sure you’ll think of something to do.”

She looked at him and flushed prettily again, dropping her eyes. “He got me better wages too. The battle sylph, I mean. I have so much money now.”

“Yeah, well, battlers do like women to be comfortable,” he admitted.

Zalia peered at him, studying the tension around his eyes. “You’re afraid of them, aren’t you?” she asked.

Devon winced, not wanting to admit that to her, but what was he supposed to do? She’d be able to see how badly they frightened him the minute he came near one and they would definitely be guarding the queen. He couldn’t imagine them not doing so. “I’m scared stiff by them,” he admitted. Her eyes widened. “I always have been.”

“Oh.” She frowned. It was a very pretty frown, he thought. “Why?”

Devon hesitated, not sure he really wanted to talk about it. She peeked at him through the cover of her hair and suddenly he couldn’t keep silent, if that was what she wanted.

“When I was a boy, a battle sylph was used to execute some prisoners. I think it was the king’s idea of an object lesson to the rest of us, since we had to watch.” He shuddered, remembering the blood and the screams of the men. He remembered the evil, toothy grin of the battler and felt the old terror.

“He did more than kill them,” Devon said softly. “He tore them apart, and he kept them alive for as long as he could while he did.”

Zalia stared at him, her face troubled. “That is so awful. They’re not…they’re not all like that, are they?”

Devon managed a small smile. “No,” he admitted, “but that was my first impression of one and I never was able to forget it. I’ve never had a good interaction with a battle sylph.”

“Not ever?” she asked, reaching out to touch his bare hand with the tips of her fingers. Immediately that bare patch of skin felt as though it was burning, he focused so much attention on it.

“Not really,” he breathed. Yes, they’d saved the Valley, yes, they kept everyone safe, but the only major interaction he’d had with a battler since the Valley was established was Heyou demanding his seed and then telling him to leave. “I can’t go back,” he said. He stared into nothing. “The queen’s battler said I could never go back.” Now he was stuck here, with another queen who wouldn’t see him and a monster even the battlers couldn’t stop.

“Why?” Zalia gasped.

Devon shook himself and looked down at her, thinking that there was something good about being banished to Meridal. “The queen wanted a baby, but the only way her battler could get her pregnant was with a man’s seed. He demanded mine and then told me to leave. I can’t go back.”

Zalia gasped again, her eyes wide. Her fingers had moved until she was holding his hand with both her own and now she squeezed it tightly. “That’s awful.”

Devon shrugged, not sure what else to do. “I’m numb to it. I never would have wanted to have children though. At least, not with Solie.” He realized what he’d just implied with that last statement and ducked his head at the same time she did, both of them blushing.

They were quiet for a time and Devon realized belatedly that they’d stopped walking. Xehm, Gel, and Shasha were nearly out of sight and they were standing together in the shadow of a building, holding hands.

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