Spellbound (16 page)

“Whoa,” Elion mumbled as he tried to blink his vision back into focus. “I’m special, huh?”

Stavros snorted and continued to lead him in, the heavy double doors groaning as they swung open. The inside would have been breathtaking, if Elion had any to spare. Thick sculpted pillars rose to the ceilings and the marble floors glistened impeccably. There wasn’t a soul to be seen as he was led to the foot of a wide spiral staircase. He swallowed against the dryness in his throat and lifted a foot for the first step.

“I don’t think I can,” he rasped after the second step. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Just hold on to me.” Elion bit back a yelp and focused on blinking back the liquid that pooled in his eyes when Stavros lifted him swiftly. Stavros gave him what could have been read as an apologetic look and continued up the steps.

Elion didn’t realize he had slipped off until a booming voice made him flinch. Stavros tightened his grip on Elion and made a soft hushing sound.

“Stavros!” the voice boomed again. Elion was placed on a long lounge sofa. His fingers gripped Stavros’ armor on instinct and the older man smiled warmly down at him. It was almost enough to ruin whatever sanity Elion had left.

“Just rest. We’ll be home soon,” he promised.

Elion nodded, letting his fingers slip from the leather and dangle lethargically beside him. He studied the large man crossing the room. His citrus eyes were brilliant; his features were carved sharp and dark skin, flawless. Silver hair hung to his waist and swished against the fabric of the silk robes he was draped with.

“Who is this?” he asked, quieter this time. “He’s injured. What did you do?”

Elion began to laugh and instantly regretted it when pain surged through him. Stavros frowned at the man whose height was easily two feet more than his own. “This is my partner, Elion. He was injured by a troll on the mountain.”

“Do what you must, Stavros. I will tend to the boy,” he said, gesturing Stavros away.

“We need to-“

“If I’ve dealt with this week for nothing, I’ll destroy you. Go,” Elion cut in. Stavros gave him a hesitant look before walking away with large, hurried strides.

It was disappointing, frankly, to come so far and then not even be able to see what tip top secret hiding spot Stavros had put the amulet. The library was large enough to hold the knowledge and secrets of eras of civilizations and he wasn’t going to get to see more than the lounge sofa.

“How long have you been lovers?” the man asked as he sat at the end of the couch and eyed Elion’s armor as if it were transparent.

Elion struggled to breathe as he laughed, despite the pain he couldn’t stop until tears were pooled in his eyes. “We’re not lovers.”

“What is it called these days?” he hummed thoughtfully.

“He’s my work partner,” Elion said, wincing as he shifted, “that’s all.”

The man made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a disagreement before he sighed. “I’ve forgotten my manners. My name is Áed.
I’m the librarian here. May I check your wounds?”

Elion nodded, or rather, let his head fall to the side, and that was apparently enough of an answer. He was shifted out of the top of his armor carefully, but the motion still made his teeth clench and his eyes water. He felt warm fingers pressing against his skin and a concerned sigh come from the large man.

“Is it bad?” Elion asked.

“It is. You need a stronger healing than I can provide here. I use a great deal of my power to conceal this location.” Elion could see a blood soaked tunic wrapping being pulled away, though he barely felt the movement of it. With a simple flick of the man’s wrist, it had vanished and Elion was fascinated. He wanted to ask questions and investigate this secret place. It would figure that he had gotten himself injured and saved, and he was probably going to die anyway.

He probably should have been upset about his young life being snuffed out or how his mother would cry herself to sleep for the next century, but he wasn’t. He was concerned about Stavros and how he would get along with a new partner. They had put so much work into their partnership and he wouldn’t even get to enjoy the good part. It was more than that, he would admit now. If he was dead, there would be no more mornings waking up next to the bastard, or even the chance of them. And then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

He struggled to sit up, ignoring the protests from Áed and the agonizing pain that dulled his own vision.

“Elion, what the hell are you doing?” Stavros bellowed from someplace out of his line of sight. His body appeared from around a corner a moment later with an abnormally large tabby cat hanging from his arms.

“It’s broken,” he said, not really understanding why it hurt to say it, a different hurt than the infection tearing apart his body.

“It has been since the attack, Elion,” Stavros sighed. Elion swallowed hard and looked at his partner’s arms.

“Never took you for a cat person,” Elion tried to joke through a frown. Stavros smiled at that and a blink later Elion found himself with a lap full of fat, purring feline. Around its neck was a simple leather collar, making the gemstone attached to it look even more elegant. When Elion tapped the amulet the feline released a growl that would put a lion to shame, its mouth opening to reveal rows of small, razor like teeth. Stavros hushed the cat and snorted when it jumped to the ground and swayed away with long claws retracting into oversized paws. Elion choked as he attempted a small laugh; Stavros’ cheekbones rose as he grinned in return, like he was the cleverest boy in the world and knew it.

“Really?” Elion breathed. His head spun as he slumped involuntarily. “I have so many questions,” was the last thing he managed to say before eyes rolled back and he began to convulse.

“Can you send us to Mikhail?” Stavros asked as he frantically gathered Elion in his arms. “Straight to Mikhail.”

“It may temporarily break the barrier if-“ Áed began.

“I don’t care! Get me to Mikhail!” Stavros shouted. Áed’s smile was the last thing Stavros saw before he was knocked back.

The shockwave was strong enough that Stavros’ bones were still rattling when he opened his eyes to find Mikhail rushing from his kitchen.

Walking into his father’s home unexpectedly always brought something amusing. Mikhail could be attempting, and failing, to bake without magic, or at times preferred to sit in his garden and sing the flowers eighties love ballads. On this day, Mikhail had sauce in his beard and the kitchen smelled like it had quite possibly have been on fire. Any other day, Stavros would have shaken his head; today, though, today his shaking arms were full and preventing him from doing anything more than shout for Mikhail.

“What happened?” Mikhail bellowed as Stavros placed Elion’s limp body on the navy sofa in his sitting room.

“A troll- and he fell into the water and I tried- he was so cold, and then he was sick and-”

“Breathe, Stavros,” Mikhail commanded, his hands scanning over Elion’s body thoroughly. “It hasn’t reached his heart. That’s a good thing, a very good thing.”

“Can you help him?” Stavros asked, huddling closer to the back of the sofa to watch Mikhail’s movement. “Dad! Can you help him?” he snapped after a few seconds; ignoring the fact that he had called Mikhail by that name for the first time in his moment of panic. Mikhail’s gaze shot up, his eyes wide and his lips pursed.

“I will do everything that I can. You can help by drawing a bath. Use one cap of the blue bottle on the shelf. Make sure to wash behind your ears, you stink.”

Stavros stared blankly as Mikhail spoke again. “I need you calm, Stavros. I could hear your heartbeat before you even arrived. Now go,” he added calmly. Stavros ground his teeth and forced himself to look away from Elion’s pale face. By the time he had gotten to bathroom in what had once been his room, he only had seconds before he was on his knees and heaving the minimal contents of his stomach.

He showered quickly, scrubbing the worst of the grime and blood from himself and threw on the first articles of clothing he came across, wrestling with the fabric against wet skin as he sought out Elion.

The room that Elion had been moved to was filled with all seven Council members and Mikhail. Most were in their formal robes, their voices quiet as they huddled close in conversation. Mikhail looked up and offered him a tired smile before gesturing him closer. Elion had been cleaned up and placed under a thick duvet, but his skin was still unnaturally pale and the dark circles under his eyes made him look gravely.

“He’ll be fine,” Mikhail said reassuringly, placing a comforting hand on Stavros’s back. “You need to rest as well. I’ll bring something to eat to your room.”

Stavros nodded blankly, his eyes still focused on the sleeping man a few feet away. It wasn’t until the door creaked slightly that he turned around. “Thank you,” he called quietly. Mikhail glanced over his shoulder with a bright smile before closing the door behind him.

“Stavros?” Elion rasped, his heavy eyelids making the smallest attempt at opening. Stavros quickly, and carefully, lowered himself onto the bed and stroked back Elion’s hair until his movements had stilled.

Chapter 13

“You’re not stuck with me anymore, ya know,” a hoarse voice said, ripping Stavros from his sleep. Elion gave an ache filled grunt when Stavros shot up quickly.

“You’re awake,” he replied, his hair wild and his eyes puffy.

“Nothing gets by you, does it?” Elion smiled tiredly. “So, trolls suck.”

“Yea. Yea, they do,” Stavros breathed, dragging his fingers through his hair. “Are you in pain? I can get-”

“Mikhail was just in here and the Council is waiting to be debriefed. You’ve been out since yesterday.”

“Oh,” Stavros said quietly, his eyes focused on the canopy above them.

“I’m just gonna go ahead and say it. A cat, Stavros?” Elion mused, a hint of a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. Stavros shrugged, not pointing out that it was hardly a common feline. “I’m such a loser. That was like a once in a lifetime opportunity, wasn’t it? To see the library, I mean.”

“Nah. I’ll take you back one day.” Elion watched the cambion’s fingers tap mindlessly against his stomach and the way they flinched when Elion’s hand covered them lightly, a small reassuring gesture that was meant to speak what he couldn’t with words. “You did good, brat.”

“But-“ Elion managed before Stavros was on his feet and walking out of the room.

Elion frowned. There was no real reason for it; Stavros still had work to do because he wasn’t pathetic enough to get himself injured. Elion sighed sadly and rolled to his left to avoid pressure on his healing wound; and when the bitterness in his gut began to spread he clenched his eyes and forced himself back into sleep.

~~

“It’s going to be a while before I’ll allow you to come back; or you could let me finish healing those wounds,” Mikhail suggested as he fluffed Elion’s pillow. The elf bit back a smirk while he watched the older man flitter around the room like an anxious mother hen.

Mikhail had been in every twenty minutes on the dot, whether Elion was asleep or not. Bowls of soup and steaming mugs of tea had been coming at a steady pace, eventually graduating to solid meals with a still-warm pastry hidden on the side of the tray. The pain was almost gone in great thanks to healing sessions from Mikhail and Siobhan, a beautiful Council member with curly copper hair that framed her plump face, and deep olive skin that radiated as brightly as her emerald eyes.

“These are my scars to carry. Besides, it’s been four days and I feel fine,” Elion sighed. Mikhail shook his head and muttered something about children and elders. “How is Stavros?” he asked. Mikhail waved a hand over the flowers in the corner and smiled when the sweet earthy scent strengthened in the room.

“He debriefed the Council and stormed off to do whatever it is that he does when on a case,” Mikhail mused. “How does it feel to be on your own again?”

Elion’s smirk slipped from his lips when he met Mikhail’s eyes for a split second. That was all it took for him to know that Mikhail knew. “Never thought I’d see the day,” he tried to joke. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Mikhail said sincerely.

“Was it Victor that made Stavros so… Stavros?”

Mikhail’s smile instantly faded. He pulled the sides of his robe into his lap as he sat on the edge bed and sighed heavily. “I assume you know how we came to be?” Elion nodded. “Even once in my care, his life wasn’t easy. He started to grow cold, no matter how much love I tried to show him. He was a genuinely good child considering his traumatic life, just jaded… and that temper,” Mikhail chuckled fondly. “He was searching for something for many years and he found it with Victor, or at least thought he had.”

“He said that Victor blamed him for his injuries, and that he had the right to.”

Mikhail’s eyes darkened at that. His jaw clenched and the static prick of angry magic was clear around them. “Is that what he told you?” Elion nodded hesitantly.

“Victor always had a way with words. He could make a curse sound romantic,” Mikhail spat. “They worked well together, and it wasn’t a surprise when they became lovers. No one saw the reality of their relationship until it was too late. He broke Stavros down until he was a shell. He called him things like whore and monster, and then he would tell Stavros that he loved him. Stavros blamed the bruises on work, but I knew better. He was just so closed off; he wouldn’t let anyone in except Victor. After the incident, Victor received a medal and an early retirement. Later, I found that he blamed Stavros for his injuries. He said that Stavros was weak and pathetic for not getting him to a healer in time.