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downwiththeficness · 4 months ago

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The Usurper-Chapter Eight

Summary: Lilah McNamara stole things for a living. It was tedious work and often dangerous, which made it just exciting enough to keep her interested. After botching a routine job, Lilah finds herself standing amid monsters. Wholly unprepared for the horror of living under Amaru’s reign, Lilah decides to use her well honed skills to thwart the queen’s plans and prevent the end of the world.

Word Count: ~3,000

Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.

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The dress fit. Really fit. Lilah turned one way and then the other, staring at herself in the mirror. It actually fit. More than that, it hugged her body perfectly. The neckline was flattering and the hem showed off her thighs without bordering on indecent. It even nipped in her non-existent waist. The woman looking back at her in the mirror was downright delicate.

Lilah was well aware that she had an athlete’s body. Years of high school sports and a fairly active lifestyle gave her arms that couldn’t be described as dainty and legs that stretched even the most forgiving jeans. She ran her hands down the material of the dress, wondering how Javier had nailed her measurements. The dress was perfect. It made her feel feminine. Pretty, even.

Thinking that she’d delayed long enough, Lilah gathered up her torn, dirty clothing and stuffed it into the shopping bag. Then, she took a fortifying breath and stepped out of the bathroom. Steam followed her into the air conditioned room. Lilah’s skin prickled with the cooler air. She gathered the bag against her belly and chanced a look to the other side of the room.

Brasa was right where she’d left him, waiting patiently in the chair near the bed. He looked up and his face relaxed into something Lilah might describe as admiration if she weren’t still mad at him, “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks,” she replied, hearing the ice in her tone. Then, “The shoes don’t match, but I don’t think she’ll notice.”

Brasa looked down at sandals that had definitely seen better days, “Ah. Javier brought that by. Said he forgot, earlier.”

Lilah followed his pointed finger to a box on the bed. She reached for it and read the label. They were in her size. Javier was either very well informed or magic. Either was possible. She opened the box to find an elegant, but expensive pair of shoes with a conservative block heel. After slipping them on, Lilah tested their fit with a few steps forward and back. She might be able to run in these, if the need called for it. Another act of foresight by Javier.

Brasa stood, “If you’re ready?”

She shrugged, “As ready as I’ll ever be to meet royalty.”

He paused a fraction of a second, but quickly moved to take her hand and guide her to the door, “If she asks you a question, answer it directly, but do not give too many details. You want her to come away from this meeting thinking that you’re nothing.”

“Gee, that’s reassuring.”

He glanced at her, “If she thinks nothing of you, she won’t consider you a threat. Or worse, a weapon.”

Lilah followed him into the night air, noting that there seemed to be a lot of people standing around the hotel, “I got it.”

“Do you?” he asked in a low voice.

Lilah didn’t answer. They were walking across the parking lot and she could feel the eyes that followed. People moved in her periphery, angling themselves to get a better look. When Lilah glanced at them, they were always doing something innocuous. Looking at their phones or talking quietly with one another. Nothing that would give away the fact that she was the focus of their attention. They were definitely looking. Lilah had no doubt about that. She cast a sidelong glance at Brasa. He was walking confidently beside her, either completely unaware or totally ignoring their audience. Lilah wanted to ask him about it, but the slow creep of uncertainty kept her quiet.

Javier was waiting for them next to a sign that read ‘office’ in bold, black lettering. He smiled softly as they approached, “I hope you like the clothes I selected for you.”

Lilah tried to smile back, “They’re...very nice. Thank you.”

His head lifted with pride, “And, the tailoring? Does it suit you?”

“Yes,” Lilah said, and repeated her ��thank you’ in a voice that was almost sincere.

Brasa guided her to Javier’s side, “Wait here.” He walked into the office and closed the door behind him, leaving the two of them standing in the yellow glare of the overhead light.

Lilah put her back to the wall of the building and looked out into that darkened lot. Eyes that had been looking pointedly away suddenly began to look right back at her. Some of them were curious, others were disgusted. More than one looked hungry. Lilah kept her expression neutral and stared right back at them.

“They won’t approach,” Javier murmured.

“Why?”

“Because they want to live,” he answered simply. “Lord Brasa has what you might call a hot temper.”

She frowned. That didn’t line up with what she knew about Brasa. If he had anything like a ‘hot temper’, Lilah was sure she would have seen it by now. Her temper had definitely heated up a time or two during the last day or so. It surprised her how tightly he could hold onto his composure when she was yelling and cursing at him. She guessed that it was the result of infinite age and experience.

“So,” Lilah began in a conversational tone, “do you think she’ll kill me, or just maim me irreparably?”

Javier’s jaw dropped as he gawked at her, “I don’t think this is the time for jokes.”

“This is absolutely the time for jokes, Javier,” Lilah replied, “I’m living in a horror movie right now and I need a little comic relief.”

Mouth closing so that his teeth clacked together audibly, Javier shifted his weight and said, “Its unlikely that she’ll harm you.”

“Oh, good.”

“But,” he continued, “I imagine she will want to test you.”

Lilah sighed, “I hate tests. Even in school—fucking hated them.”

She hadn’t failed to graduate, but it was a close call. Lilah couldn’t seem to sit still and focus. Every minute in a classroom was spent wishing she was somewhere else—in her bedroom reading a book about what happened to the body when people died, or slipping down to the local market to test which products she could palm in plain sight.

“Its important that you don’t show fear,” he said, turning to face her. “Look her in the eye when you speak to her. She’ll respect that.”

“No fear. Look her in the eye.” Easy enough.

“And,” Javier added, his voice tipping upwards, “you should attempt to hide your dislike for your bondmate.”

Lilah’s eyes narrowed and she breathed a long, ‘okay’. She could answer questions directly. She could look the woman in the eye. Overcoming how pissed off she was at Brasa might be asking too much, especially with the fact that she was still trying to find her feet in the insanity of the situation.

He tapped his cane against the ground, just once, “If she senses a division between you, she’ll want to exploit it.”

That pulled Lilah up short. In one sentence, Javier had given her all the incentive she needed to make a good showing in front of Amaru. She’d never allowed anyone to manipulate her before and she wasn’t going to start now. Queen or not, Amaru could kick rocks, for all she cared. Lilah would not give her satisfaction of pulling her strings.

The office door swung open and Brasa leaned out, “She’s ready for you.”

He held his hand out low to guide her inside. Lilah straightened her shoulders and walked up to him with faux confidence. Her eyes met his and, when she took his hand, she could see the question in them. Knowing that she had just a few seconds to relay her new position, Lilah sidled closer to Brasa and placed her hand on his chest, “I’m ready for her.”

Brasa’s brows furrowed and his lips pursed gently. Lilah hoped that the steadiness of her gaze and the way she pushed her weight into him would be enough. It would have to be. Amaru’s voice called Brasa’s name in a low, impatient growl and neither of them was going to keep her waiting. He stared at her only a second longer before giving a subtle nod and turning to present Lilah to his queen.

Amaru was sitting at the desk of what Lilah assumed was the hotel manager. Her head was resting on curled fingers, her elbow perched next to a large book with pages that were yellowed with age. Lilah thought it was probably two or three hundred years old, if the binding was anything to go by. She’d get a better idea of it if she could spot the writing scrawled along the edges.

Lilah held tight to Brasa’s hand as he led her forward to stand before the desk. She swallowed down the need to say something in the silence of the room, breathing deeply to calm her racing heart. While she waited for Amaru to acknowledge her, she took a moment to note the light covering of dust over the filing cabinets and the spray of red that fanned across a stack of paperwork by an utterly destroyed phone. That explained where the manager went.

Amaru looked up, and all Lilah could see was a pair of ancient eyes set in the face of a child. She couldn’t be more than eighteen or nineteen, with long, dark hair and soft, smooth skin. Lilah recognized the way she’d put on too much eyeliner in an attempt to make herself look older. She’d done much the same before she left high school. All the better to pull the college boys that were home for a break between semesters.

“My Brasa says that you’re his bondmate,” Amaru said evenly.

Lilah couldn’t think of anything to say, so she nodded and hoped that would be enough.

Amaru blinked, “Its a shame you’re human. But, facts are facts, aren’t they?”

Lilah nodded again.

“Does she speak?” Amaru directed the question to Brasa.

“She does,” Lilah answered for him, “when she has something to say.”

That was the wrong response. Lilah could tell by the way Brasa’s hand tightened around hers. He took a subtle step forward and to the side that put his body partially in front of her. Amaru merely blinked at Lilah, then pushed to standing and walked around the desk to get a closer look.

She was short—petite. All of her features were soft and small, except for her eyes. Amaru’s eyes were like two sharp bits of flint in her skull. Anything could spark a fire. She looked at Brasa, “I don’t care what you do in your free time. But, don’t let her get in the way.”

“Yes, my queen,” he replied, voice low and without feeling.

Amaru turned, “This book is useless to me. Bring me another.” A flick of her wrist and the book went sailing across the room and out the front window. Lilah followed its path with lifted brows, barely suppressing a smile when Javier had to dart to the side in order to avoid the spray of glass.

“Of course,” Brasa replied. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No. You can go.”

And, that was it. Brasa and Lilah were dismissed with nothing more than a sigh. Amaru dropped into the chair behind the desk and slumped against the back of it, looking so much like a sullen child that Lilah had to hide her curled lip in the leather of Brasa’s coat.

He didn’t have to pull her along behind him while he led her from the office. Lilah scuttled along eagerly, barely breathing until the door cut off the feeling of Amaru’s creepy eyes on her back. Brasa slowed, his attention turning to the place where the light of the hotel met the darkness beyond. Lilah craned her neck, but couldn’t see that much had changed in the few minutes she’d been inside.

From the depth of Brasa’s chest came a frighteningly loud growl. He let go of her hand and walked three or four steps forward. Javier followed just behind, one hand pushing Lilah gently back towards the building. Her eyes flicked back and forth, trying to spot the danger that Brasa so clearly saw. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Even her gawkers had gone back to minding their own business. She took another step backwards, one foot bumping up against Amaru’s discarded book. Curious, Lilah picked it up and tucked the tome beneath one arm. She’d take a closer look at it later.

Brasa went quiet. Evidently, the danger was gone. He turned and muttered something to Javier in a language she didn’t recognize. Then, he reached for Lilah’s hand and guided her back to the room. She followed along with careful glances towards the parking lot, as if she might be able to discover what was wrong while Brasa’s back was turned.

In the room, Lilah tossed the book on the bed and dropped heavily onto the mattress, “So, I guess I passed the test.”

Nothing about what just happened felt anything like a test. Lilah hadn’t even felt the vaguest hint of one. The queen barely spared Lilah more than a passing glance. After all the ominous warnings, actually meeting Amaru felt less than climactic. To say that Lilah was underwhelmed would be fairly accurate.

“I wouldn’t be complacent about it,” Brasa replied. “Amaru has a habit of playing games, especially when she’s bored.”

“Is she likely to be bored in the near future?” she asked, gesturing towards the book. “Seems to me that she’s pretty well occupied.”

Brasa resumed his position on the chair by the bed, “She’s sent culebras all over the country looking for books about how they first came here. She had the knowledge, once, but the transition from body to body tends to scramble memories. Even mine have taken time to return to me. She’s tried everything short of hypnosis to recall them.”

“No one else knows?”

“Actually,” he said, “the Lords probably knew. But, she had me kill the Lords not long after I was able to take physical form again.”

Lilah’s mouth opened, shut, opened again, then snapped shut around a giggle. That giggle refused to be suppressed and she ended out pressing her hand against her mouth while the sound poured out between her fingers, “That’s, uh, pretty hilarious.”

Brasa frowned, “Why?”

“She shot herself in the foot, don’t you think?” That seemed to confuse him more, and Lilah found herself laughing outright at his adorably confused expression. “She had the only people who could tell her what she needs to know killed. I don’t have the best grasp of irony, but this feels pretty ironic.”

As hard as he fought against it, Brasa’s mouth tipped up in a smile, “I’ve told you that she is unpredictable.”

“She’s...something,” Lilah murmured.

Brasa licked his lips, as if his tongue could wipe away the mirth, “I knew you wouldn’t like her, but I never thought you’d find her humorous.”

Pulling her legs up and underneath her, Lilah lay across the bed and rested her head on her arm, “I think its more of a choice to laugh or I’ll go crazy. If it were just one insane new fact for me to absorb, I might be taking it more seriously. But, all of this” she gestured vaguely, “just keeps compounding on itself. I can’t keep up, much less control it.”

“I’ve given you a lot to think about,” Brasa said, and that sentence was enough to take the smile from his mouth. “You’re managing a lot better than some of the newly turned.”

Lilah considered the eyes that watched her not long ago. How many of them had discovered the existence of vampires right along with her? “I guess I have the advantage of still being human while my world tips on its side.”

His head cocked to the side, “But, you’re not human. Not anymore.”

She frowned, “What?”

“You’re not human. You haven’t been since the moment you drank my blood.”

Lilah sat up, “What—the fuck—are you talking about?”

“My blood is powerful,” Brasa replied easily, “I have no doubt that it has begun to subsume yours.”

She thought about that moment on the asphalt when he’d pressed his arm to her mouth, “Is it permanent?”

“I assume so.”

“You assume?”

He shrugged casually, “I’ve never given my blood to a human before, let alone a bondmate.”

“So,” Lilah pointed a finger at him, “you’re saying that you don’t know. You don’t know if your blood would make me,” she searched for the words, “not human.”

“I suppose I don’t,” he relented. “But, it did heal your injuries.”

That was true. She passed out with a dislocated shoulder, countless bruises, and cuts all over only to wake up whole. “What’s it going to do to me?”

Brasa leaned his forearms on his thighs, “You’ll be stronger. Faster, probably. You’ll heal when you’re injured.”

“Is that it?”

His mouth opened, and it took him a moment to answer, “You might live a little longer.”

Lilah’s eyes narrowed, “How long?”

“I don’t know,” he said, and it sounded honest. “I expect that you may live as long as I do. That seems to be what happens with bondmates.”

She looked down at her hands, “How long are you going to live?”

“A long time.”

“Forever?”

Brasa smiled, “No one lives forever.”

“But, compared to a human. You’ll outlive...well, all of them, right?”

He nodded slowly, waiting for her response. Lilah tried to think about it, but all her brain wanted to do was check out for the evening. There was only so much information it was willing to assimilate and it had reached its limit hours ago. She sighed and picked up the remote, “You ever heard of the History Channel?”

Brasa blinked once, then said, “No.”

Lilah slid across the bed so that she sat propped up against the headboard, “C’mon. Let me introduce you to the aliens guy.”

#from dusk til dawn: the series #from dusk til dawn #brasa #AU #Soulmates #Maurice Compte #The Usurper

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downwiththeficness · 2 months ago

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The Usurper-Chapter Sixteen

Word Count: ~4,100

Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.

Start at the Beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Read on AO3 Masterlist

Lilah dug her thumb into the button on the remote. In front of her, the TV flipped through the channels until it settled on a high stakes cooking show. Chefs sprinted around one another, gathering ingredients and tossing them into hot pans. They yelled to each other over the sound of meat and vegetables sizzling while a panel of judges commentated over every cut of a knife. Lilah set the remote down and scooted back on the mattress so that her legs hung off the edge. This was just the kind of distraction she was looking for.

Javier hung the TV on the wall, himself. It was a meticulous affair, lots of measuring and marking with a small piece of chalk. Lilah learned within a minute that questioning his methods would only earn her a pointed stare and a lifted brow. That look kept her mouth shut until he pronounced that the TV was ready to alleviate her boredom.

The routine she started when Brasa brought her here continued. She woke up in the morning, got dressed, and went to have breakfast in the holding room while Javier watched her dig further into the information he provided to her. Brasa might show up during the course of the afternoon and they would speak a little about how things were going with construction. If Lilah understood correctly, Amaru would be ready to hold court in a few days’ time.

Lilah was careful not to broach the subject of her relationship with Brasa. She was still pretty mad at him for hiding his blood in her wine. He was always distracted with his work, anyways. Handling Amaru’s daily tantrums while wrangling the seemingly endless numbers of culebras was more than a full time job. While Brasa and Javier contained collateral damage, the cavern slowly stopped looking like a cavern and started looking like a ballroom. The walls and floors were polished to a gleaming shine. Pale blue light reflected off the water, sending speckles of light in every direction. The room would look like something out of a fantasy if Lilah didn’t know what it would be used for.

Something about this single step forward in Amaru’s affairs put a feeling of urgency in her belly. The comfort of knowing Amaru was occupied by something not related to her primary goal felt like it was coming to an end. The turn of events was slowly accelerating and Lilah didn’t know enough to be confident she could protect herself when the shit hit the fan.

She filled one notebook and started on another, all the while translating the secret book hidden beneath the bed. It was slow work, but she was gaining some understanding of the complex world in which she was mired. Xibalbans moved among each other in a constant state of give and take. Power and blood moving back and forth between them at the slightest word or glance. Layers of meaning were steeped in the constant threat of violence. Often, disagreements ended in death. Living like that sounded exhausting. Futile, even. Lilah was depressed just reading about it.

Her perseverance paid off in an odd kind of way. In between one complicated passage and the next, Lilah found a small section on blood binding. On the bathroom floor, she looked frantically around at the empty room before scribbling furiously across the pages of her notebook. It was only a few sentences describing the transaction in clinical terms. One party sacrificed a part of their heart, placing it inside the other. There it remained until one or the other died.

This confirmed what Lilah already knew, although the reason for entering into this kind of contract was not what she expected. Blood binding was the result of a debt that could not be paid in one lifetime. It was only to be used in cases where a person’s actions caused the death of a bondmate. If the affected party survived the horror of having their bondmate severed from them, they could make the killer’s life a living hell for as long as either of them lived. Efficient. Brutal. Torture.

There was no record in the book about the granular details of how to accomplish the ritual. Only a reference to another work simply called, The Book of the Scribe. The lack of information frustrated her, but it did give her a direction. She could look for information on the referenced book in the remaining documents from Javier. If she was very lucky, she might be able to track it down. Until then, there was the culinary debate about whether New York or Chicago had the best pizza.

The judges were just about to sample the first plate when Brasa walked in. He was carrying a book and he looked just a little bit startled that she was sitting there. “I thought you might still be with Javier.”

Lilah shrugged, “I think he got a little tired of me. I’ve been drilling him about verb conjugation for about three days.”

His head tilted, “Why?”

“It’ll be easier for me to understand what I’m reading if I can understand the language.”

“You are learning Xibalban?”

“Slowly,” she answered, “and poorly.”

Something about his expression went oddly blank, “That is...commendable.”

Lilah shrugged again, “It passes the time.”

A round of applause came from the TV. Brasa turned to look at it, “This will pass the time, too. I know you’re bored.”

“Very, very bored,” she admitted. Lilah was used to being constantly on the movie. She was used to going from job to job, from one adrenaline rush to the next. The slower pace in the caves made her skin itch.

He tapped the book against his thigh while he thought, “I have time tomorrow in the evening. Would you like to go back to the bar?”

Lilah smiled at the offer, but shook her head, “I like a night of chaos and alcohol just as much as anyone else, but that place was kind of a dive.”

It was more than ‘kind of’ a dive. The bar was filled with smoky air and every surface was covered in some kind of greasy residue. Lilah liked the band and the bartender had a heavy pour, but she didn’t like dodging broken glass or fists when the inevitable fights broke out. She could defend herself, if needed, and Brasa was always there to step between her and danger. Lilah was just too old for that kind of atmosphere. Fuck, when had that happened?

Brasa was undeterred. He set his book on the nightstand and walked towards the dresser where he tugged off his coat and threw it over the top, “There are other bars. Places that are not dives.”

Lilah’s smile faltered. She recovered quickly, “Oh?”

He looked over his shoulder at her, “Yes. What sort of place do you prefer?”

Again, she faltered. She didn’t know what kind of place she preferred. Lilah hadn’t spent any memorable time in a bar that wasn’t dedicated to casing the place or watching a mark since she was in her early twenties. With no answer ready, she leaned into the obvious, “Someplace where sitting down won’t ruin my dress. Javier spends too much time and too much money getting them for me.”

Brasa paused in his trek back to the bed, “He’s more worried about the shoes, I think.”

“The shoes?”

He hummed, “You should hear him debate function, utility, and style. He can go on for hours. Block heels versus stilettos versus satin versus patent leather. I never expected to learn so much about shoe construction in one afternoon.”

She couldn’t help but to laugh at the image of Javier talking animatedly about heels while Brasa listened attentively. The laugh faded when Brasa dropped onto the mattress and pulled off his shoes. He scooted back to rest against the headboard, “Is that all? Sitting down without ruining your dress?”

Lilah bit her lip, wondering if she should take the invitation he was clearly offering. It would mean deliberately setting aside her anger long enough to spend more than a few minutes at a time with him. As she considered it, Lilah remembered what Javier told her. Brasa was a powerful ally—probably her most powerful ally. She was already at a huge disadvantage. Lilah just didn’t have the luxury of of holding onto a grudge.

“I think,” she said while she shifted to crawl up the bed to sit beside him, “something with a soft, warm atmosphere. Somewhere that doesn’t have to use chicken wire to protect the windows. A nice cocktail menu wouldn’t hurt, either.”

Brasa listened intently, “Is that all?’

“Isn’t that enough?”

He looked away, “I’m sure I can find something that suits your tastes.”

“I look forward to your selection.” Lilah’s response was sincere. She wanted to know what he would pick, given the parameters. It would tell her something about what he knew about her. It might also tell her a little something about him. Her eyes fell to the nightstand, “What are you reading?”

“A guide for product distribution,” Brasa answered.

“Sounds dull.”

“It is. Its also necessary.”

“Why?”

He drew a breath that sounded tired, “Our numbers are growing. With so many, I am afraid the human authorities will notice us. I’ve been trying to determine the best way to keep them fed.”

Lilah blinked, “You mean blood.”

“Yes.”

In all the flurry of Amaru’s machinations, Lilah forgot about this particular problem. She tried to remember how many were in the cave during Amaru’s little ceremony. Twenty? Twenty-five? How often did they need to eat? How often did they make more like them? All these questions whizzed past her, ending with the most important question of all: How many people were dead?

“I have purchased a medical transportation company and an adjoining lab,” Brasa explained. “I can skim shipments meant for other parts of the country without anyone really noticing. Up until recently, at least. Now, with so many mouths to feed and not enough blood to feed them, a few have taken to hunting.”

“You mean hunting humans,” Lilah said in a low voice, even though she definitely didn’t need the clarification.

“Yes,” he replied easily. “Its drawing the attention of local police. Most of them have been bribed to look the other way, but I know enough about humans to anticipate that there will be someone who won’t take the money.”

Lilah’s mind began to work around the problem, “You can’t expand the company? Increase the shipments?”

“I’m working on it. The bureaucracy you humans insist on is slowing things down.” He dropped his head against the headboard, “I think I prefer a ka’at.”

She drew on what little knowledge she gained in the last few weeks, “I think the Sheriff would have a problem with a fight to the death.”

Brasa glanced at her with humor in his eyes, “He would be armed.”

Lilah shared his humor, “He would also be human. He wouldn’t stand a chance and you know it.”

“He could get lucky.”

“Not that lucky.”

Brasa smiled, all teeth and dimples, “He wouldn’t know that.”

Lilah was momentarily distracted by how nice he looked when he smiled, “Probably not. That would be the only mercy you would give him.”

“Of course,” he said, as if it were obvious.

“You’re telling me that you wouldn’t let the guy have even the smallest chance?”

“That’s the point of the ka’at. Only the strongest survives.”

“And, with survival,” Lilah finished for him, “comes ownership of everything they have. You’re right, it would be quicker. Significantly more bloody, but quicker.”

Brasa made a low sound that sent a shiver down her spine, “A fight isn’t worth winning if there isn’t a little blood, Lilah.”

Lilah could tell that he meant it. It was written all over his face, sitting right there in the tone of his voice. She could see that just the thought of defeating his enemy lit a fire from within. What would he be like in a fight? A real fight, not just a scuffle with the local sheriff.

“Have you,” she started in a soft voice, “won a, uh, ka’at?”

His grin was feral, “Many.”

“You don’t see anything wrong with it?”

“I can’t change what is, Lilah.”

She felt herself standing at a crossroads. In one direction, Lilah could change the subject and back away from something that made her uncomfortable. In the other, she could charge ahead and work through her discomfort. Lilah decided to charge ahead.

Shifting so that she faced him, Lilah said, “You are putting in so much work to keep Amaru from bringing Xibalba here, even buying up a whole company to keep your people from feeding on the locals. And yet, here you are, defending slaughtering somebody to take what they have.”

He drew a breath and looked away, “Would you rather I let them slit my throat? Take what I have?”

“I would rather no one gets their throat slit.”

Brasa turned his gaze back to her, “I want that, too. But, mercy was something I couldn’t afford in Xibalba. Not if I wanted to live.”

It was Lilah’s turn to look away, “I guess I can understand that, but this isn’t Xibalba.”

“Lilah,” he said as he took her hand, “I am trying.”

She let him thread his fingers through hers, feeling the soft slide of his gloves, “I know. I’m sorry. This is...”

“A lot,” he said with her. “I know. You’re doing very well.”

“I am not!” she blurted, “Sometimes I think this is all a fever dream and I’ll wake up in my apartment with a hell of a hangover from bottom shelf tequila.”

“How fortunate for me that this isn’t a dream,” Brasa murmured.

Lilah felt a flush rise up along her sternum at the intimacy in his tone. She didn’t know how to respond to it. As much as she analyzed her emotions where Brasa was concerned, they weren’t clear enough to really tell her whether or not she actually liked him. They fought more than they got along and there was still the matter of her resentment. When he looked at her as he was looking at her now, it made her muddy feelings even more confusing.

Brasa looked at her with reverence, as if he couldn’t believe she was real. His hands on hers were light, but confident. She could feel the heat radiating from his body and she was viscerally reminded of how it felt to put her lips to his skin. Lilah drew in a breath, unable to look away from him. She stared into his eyes, watching in real time as the pupil slowly expanded to overtake the whites until there was nothing but a pool of darkness reflecting back at her.

Brasa reached out to curl a finger beneath her chin. Lilah didn’t have to guess his intent when he leaned into her space. She could have pulled away—probably should have. They weren’t in any place to be doing this. Nothing had been settled between them and a kiss wasn’t going to change anything. That didn’t stop Lilah from letting him guide her forward until their lips touched. Lilah registered the heat half a second before she felt the soft press of his mouth. Then, all she could feel was the pleasure of a simple kiss.

He pulled away and they shared a breath or two. Then, Brasa dropped his hand and returned to leaning against the headboard. “You are taking this well, Lilah. Despite your arguments.”

Grateful for the opportunity to return to safer ground, Lilah scoffed playfully and said, “Yes, nearly burning down the place is me taking it really well.”

“You’re only human,” he replied easily. “At least you remained here this time. Javier just got a new car. I would hate to see it wrecked.”

“Who says I would wreck it?” she asked with a coy turn of her shoulder, “I was sleep deprived. I’ll have you know that I am an excellent driver.”

Brasa smiled softly, “So I’ve heard.”

Something about the way he said it reminded Lilah that he’d done some research, “Which job are you referencing?”

“I’m told it was the first.”

Lilah sighed, a little embarrassed the he’d been able to go back that far, “I was a teenager and an idiot.”

“Aren’t we all when we’re that young?”

She laughed, “Were you ever ‘that young’?”

Brasa breathed deep and looked off into the distance, “Believe it or not, I was.”

Lilah fluffed her pillow and leaned onto it, “Tell me.” When he demurred, she prodded him, “C’mon, you know all about how I managed to evade sixteen officers and one very upset farmer. You gotta tell me about something equally embarrassing.”

“Was it sixteen?” he asked in a playfully skeptical voice. “I thought it was five.”

She pointed a finger at him, “It was sixteen and you know it was sixteen. Now, stop stalling and share.”

He rolled his eyes, put out, but went along with her, “Well, in Xibalba, we have an animal that is very much like a bison. Except it has long tusks that protrude upwards from its mouth.” After a glance to ensure Lilah was following along, Brasa continued, “I was with some friends and they dared me to ride one.”

A slow, gleeful smile spread across Lilah’s mouth, “I’m guessing it did not go very well.”

“You’re right,” he replied. “it didn’t. I crept up close and managed to actually get on its back. It, uh, bucked hard and I ended out flipping over its head and down onto the tusks. One of them went through my side.”

“Ouch.”

Brasa nodded, “Yes. Ouch. The wound was clean and I recovered after a few days, but my friends enjoyed retelling that story over and over until well after it ceased to be funny. They particularly liked to mimic my scream of terror.”

Lilah giggled when he imitated a high pitched wail. Brasa joined in her laughter, which only fueled more giggles from Lilah, which in turn made Brasa laugh harder. Whenever one of them would get themselves together enough to stop laughing, one look at the other would start it all over again.

When they finally wore themselves out, Lilah and Brasa lay there, breathing hard. Lilah felt some of the tension in her neck and shoulders relax. The anger she held in her body went right along with it. Lilah pressed her hands against her aching stomach, “I can’t imagine you tumbling ass over tea kettle on some wild animal.”

“Neither could I, until it happened. I learned my lesson, though.”

“I’m sure you did,” she wheezed, still trying to catch her breath. “Its a good story.”

Brasa nodded, “Despite the shame, I can admit it is a good story.”

Lilah settled further into the pillow, “Got any more good stories?”

He smiled conspiratorially, “I have plenty, but I think its your turn.”

“Oh, alright,” she drawled. “I guess I could tell you about the time I worked with a small crew in France. We were working to unseat a CEO who had a habit of screwing his assistants. His wife was very mad and very rich.”

Brasa’s brows came together, “His wife financed the job?”

“Yeah,” she said. “A scorned wife isn’t somebody to mess with and she was...pretty straightforward about how much we were going to ruin her husband’s career.”

“Were you successful?”

“Uh huh. Almost lost it near the end, but I managed to rally.”

“Rally?”

Lilah sucked her teeth, “Yes. Did I mention the job was in France?”

“You did.”

“Did I also mention that my French is barely passable? Which, by the way, is something my parents are extremely ashamed of.”

“You did not.”

“Well,” Lilah said, “turns out that you kind of have to know the language to get around. I was pretending to be a janitor so I could get into his office and copy his hard drive. He surprised me halfway through the download, came home early from lunch. I had to come up with a reason why I was hunched down behind his desk. And, uh, I might have accidentally told the mark he was a pain in the ass instead of telling him that I had pulled a muscle in my neck.”

Brasa smiled wide, “What did he say to that?”

She cringed, “He laughed and said that it wasn’t the first time some had called him that. I pulled the drive from the port while he was hanging up his coat, apologized profusely, and got out of there. We were all wearing in-ear comms at the time and I had to spend the entire elevator ride down to ground level listening to them make fun of me. In the end, I had to agree that it was funny—not as funny as being gored by a wild animal, but pretty damn funny.”

His smile widened, “I can’t imagine you not being fully prepared for a job.”

“I thought I was. I studied that stupid Conversations in French book for six months leading up to it. I just got caught off guard. Lucky for me it was a silly, stupid mistake. No harm done.”

There were plenty of other jobs with higher stakes and more dangerous missteps in Lilah’s past. She was proud that none of those jobs had happened in at least the last five years or so. Lilah rarely had any problems once she gained her footing. It was one of the reasons she could ask for such high payments from people used to bullying their way to a lower price tag.

The TV blared with the intro music for another episode of the cooking show. Thunderous music and a very serious narrator promoted a final round with the last two competitors. Lilah gestured towards the screen, “You ever watch reality shows?”

Brasa shook his head, “I’ve only watched TV a handful of times. You humans seem to love watching others compete against one another.”

“Yeah. Its a regular Colosseum nowadays.”

“What’s a Colosseum?”

Lilah blinked, forgetting for a moment that he might be old, but he hadn’t lived in this dimension for most of this life. “Well, its a place where gladiators fought to the death against one another, or against animals. I think there were even chariots involved, although that might just be something from the movies. Its a tourist attraction now. There haven’t been fights there for hundreds of years.”

Brasa’s expression was thoughtful, “We had something similar before Amaru took power. It was a way to clear away grievances between houses. Some people say that’s how the ka’at started.” He paused, “Maybe humans have more in common with Xibalbans than I originally thought.”

Lilah passed a hand over her face,”I honestly don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.”

“Its neither,” he said. “Just a statement of fact.”

“We can watch something else, if you want.”

Brasa shook his head, “I have a meeting in a while. I should probably prepare for it.”

“Oh, okay,” Lilah was surprised by the disappointment that she felt.

He pushed from the bed and grabbed his book, “I’ll find you tomorrow evening. We’ll go to a bar that is better than a dive.”

“I’ll pick out a dress. Tell Javier I welcome his thoughts on footwear.”

Smiling, Brasa leaned his weight on a palm that dipped into the mattress, “He will be overjoyed.”

Then, as if all their frustrations and all their fighting didn’t exist, he pressed a kiss to her mouth. It was there and gone within a heartbeat, leaving Lilah watching, doe-eyed, as he grabbed his shoes and walked to his private office.

She sat there while the competitors were introduced and the inevitable curve ball was thrown at them, feeling as if something large had shifted between them. Was it a good thing? Lilah didn’t know. She liked that they weren’t fighting, that they seemed to on the same page, for once. The easy affection was nice and she liked it when they kissed. Their agreement to work together seemed to be holding firm and he was taking a bit more time to talk with her—to share the things that were going on—than he had in the past. All in all, Lilah decided that she was okay with the way things were going. However, a little voice in her head told Lilah that if she wasn’t very, very careful, she could actually fall for Brasa—and that would be a disaster.

#from dusk til dawn: the series #brasa #from dusk til dawn #AU #Soulmates #maurice compte #The Usurper

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