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downwiththeficness · 1 month ago

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The Usurper-Chapter Twenty Six

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: ~5,600

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

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“Are you sure this is gonna work?” Lilah crossed her arms and stared at the set up. Two wooden boxes were stacked on top of one another. Sitting on top of that was a bundle of dynamite. If she looked very closely, Lilah could just see the gleam of metal between the sticks.

Seth sidled up to her right, “There’s enough there to blow a hole through concrete.”

“Which reminds me of my next question. Where the hell did you get that much dynamite?”

Richie appeared at her left, “Where we get everything.”

“Tech Guy Juan?”

“Tech Guy Juan.”

She sucked her teeth, “Still haven’t answered my first question.”

Richie shrugged, “Guess we’ll find out.” He looked around Lilah to Seth, “You wanna set it off?”

Seth laughed and shook his head, “No I do not. Honor’s all yours.”

Richie grinned and it made him look about twelve years old. He produced a lighter from his pocket and practically skipped over to where the long end of the fuse laid on the ground. Lilah flinched and backed up quickly towards the back of the bar. Seth turned and watched her scamper away and his smile was one of bemusement.

Lilah flipped him the bird, “I’m not getting hit with fucking shrapnel.”

He made a face of ‘that makes sense’ before he turned back to watch Richie lean down and put the lighter to the fuse. It hissed and glowed red, a slow moving dot that she could track in the darkness. Even from her position next to the building, Lilah could see the path of the fire as it sizzled along the line, up the boxes, and into the bundle of dynamite.

Boom.

Usually, when Lilah worked with explosives, she used ear protection for this exact reason. The sound was way, way too loud. It echoed between her ears long after the initial blast, leaving Lilah digging her palms into the side of her head and grumbling curses. Neither of the brothers seemed to be having the same problem. The two of them were just...kind of standing there, staring at the smoking mess.

Still rubbing her ears, Lilah walked up to them and said a little too loudly, “Did it work?”

Seth shrugged and looked at Richie, who was still staring at the blast area. “Go check it out.”

Without hesitation and without acknowledging his brother, Richie sauntered forward. On the way, he knelt down and picked up a stick as wide as two of her fingers. With it, Richie dug around in the ash. Lilah bit her lip while she waited for him to confirm that the plan worked. The plan had to work. There was no other option but for the plan to work.

Richie looked up and shook his head. Lilah blinked and she might have yelled out in frustration while stomping up to him to check for herself. In the still smoking mess at her feet was a singed metal cup. Completely intact. Not even a dent. Lilah’s head tilted back and she stared at the night sky, “I knew it. I fucking knew it.”

“What is that thing made of?” Richie murmured.

Probably the same thing as that fucking book, Lilah groused internally. Externally, she said, “What’re we going to do?”

He stood, “I don’t know. I think, if we can figure out what its made of, we can figure out how to destroy it.”

“How long will that take?”

“I don’t know.”

“Lots of I don’t know going on here.”

She could feel his glare. “You got a better idea?”

“Not yet,” Lilah admitted. “But, I might soon.”

“Gonna need it faster than that,” Seth announced. “Just got a text from our resident sun god. Amaru’s taken another twenty five and turned them. He thinks she’s moving up her timeline.”

To the night sky, Lilah asked, “You wanna throw anything else at us this week? Because I think we’re full up.”

Richie leaned close to her, “I don’t think He’s listening.”

Seth tugged a piece of cloth from his coat pocket and reached down to snag the cup. He held it up to the ambient light of the bar and turned it slowly between his fingers. The cup was plain, just hammered metal. No jewels. No decoration. When Lilah grabbed it from the shelf of some eighty year old woman, she initially thought she had the wrong relic. This little debacle proved that she didn’t.

Sniffing back her ire, Lilah took the cup from Seth and trudged back to the bar. The boys followed silently. She walked through the back door, past the trough for dish washing, past the empty liquor boxes waiting to be broken down, and through to the back hall where she pushed into the office. Richie leaned a hip against his desk while Seth poured a drink. The air took on a pensive weight.

“The book can’t be destroyed, either.” Lilah rubbed at her face in frustration. She was tired from their trip and this little setback only served to make her more tired.

Richie crossed his arms, “I’m not surprised.”

Lilah sighed, “I guess I’m also not surprised.”

Seth threw back a swig of liquor, “Well, I am. A few sticks of dynamite and the thing barely looks smudged.”

“Its magic,” Richie muttered while he, too, made himself a drink. He lifted the bottle in Lilah’s direction, but she waved him off. She didn’t want to be drunk right now.

“God save us from magic,” Seth replied. “Look, I’ll take it to our guy and see if he can figure out what metal we’re dealing with. We’ll go from there.”

Richie set his glass down and shrugged out of his jacket. He threw it on his desk and said, “We should look for the next relic while we wait.”

“Not a bad idea. Lilah?”

“Yeah,” she breathed in answer, “I know where it is.”

Seth looked surprised, “Really? You found it already?”

“I didn’t have to find it,” Lilah said. “I already stole it once.”

This time, Richie looked surprised, “You stole a Xibalban staff?”

She nodded, “Sort of. Actually, its a funny story. Stealing the staff is where I first met Brasa, only I didn’t know he was Brasa at the time. At least, not until he killed a maintenance right in front of me.”

Seth took a short breath, “Let’s, uh, set aside the funny story for a second. Where is the staff?”

“I stashed it in a church a couple hundred miles from here. Small town. Nice people. Terrible taste in gods.”

“You think its still there?” When she nodded, Seth continued, “Alright. We’ll go get it the day after tomorrow.”

Lilah pressed her palms to her thighs and stood, “Fine. I’m gonna get some shut eye.”

In her room, she kicked off her shoes and sorted through her meager clothing to find something to sleep in. She settled on a pair of athletic shorts and the t shirt with the lizard on it. With a wide open yawn, Lilah slipped between the sheets and turned off the bedside light. She wriggled around to get comfortable and breathed deep. For a few seconds, she thought she might actually drift off pretty quickly, but her mind just wouldn’t let go.

“I’ll put serious money on all of the relics being indestructible,” she said to the darkness. Lilah didn’t need a metal analysis to know they wouldn’t be able to destroy the cup. Same with the book, the staff, and the knife. Without a way to take the relics off the board completely, there was only one solution: Hide them. Lilah had to find the deepest, darkest hole—several of them, to be safe—and throw the relics in.

“Sleep,” she said aloud. “Sleep now. Plan later.”

After ten minutes, Lilah was still staring at the ceiling and trying to stop her brain from recalling the exact schedule for church services. There was a gap on Tuesday where there wasn’t anything going on. She could slide into the sanctuary and snag the staff without anyone noticing. Unless they’d hired Raul’s replacement. Maybe she should case the place for a week or so before breaking in. Someone might recognize her, though. Lilah might need a disguise. The image of her wearing a wig and giant sunglasses forced a chuckle from her throat.

Lilah scrubbed her hands across her face, “Stop it. Just stop thinking.”

She kept on thinking right up until she blinked and the darkness turned into the warm light of someplace very, very different. Lilah sat up and looked around. She was sitting on a large bed in the center of a small, but cozy room. To her left was a closed door and a pair of lit sconces. Their wavering light was unnatural. She leaned a hand on the mattress to get a closer look. There was just a tiny ball of light sitting in each one that cast an amber light on the meager furniture.

To her right was an opening that led to what looked like a terrace. Lilah scooted to the side of the bed and set her feet on the floor. It was then that she noticed the distinctive lack of lizard t shirt. Her hands bunched into a dress that was made of what looked like long, vertical strips of fabric that were tied at the waist with a thin leather belt. There was nothing underneath. She pulled one of the swaths away from her body. By itself, it was nearly transparent. The mass of twenty or so strips layered atop one another provided just enough coverage to hint at, but not reveal, her body.

A quick turn around the room produced no new information as to where she was or why she was there. She tried the door and found it locked, which left the terrace as the only point of exit. Lilah stepped outside to find that it wasn’t actually a terrace. The stone walkway ran along the side of the building and around the corner. Lilah leaned over the side and looked down onto a large courtyard that was lit with the same flame-less sconces. People milled about, some sitting at low tables that were piled high with food, some collected together in groups.

Drawn to the frivolity, Lilah spotted a staircase and headed for it. Her feet were bare against the stone, but it wasn’t cold. The air was warm and humid. There was no wind moving through the breezeways and when she looked up at the night sky, there was no moon or stars shining down on the large courtyard below.

The space was lined with huge pillars that held up the mezzanine. Between the pillars were little nooks and benches for extra seating. The stone floor was a dull taupe and very clean. It was smoothed to a shining finish that didn’t seem possible. Same with the pillars. If she looked closely, she could see small geometric carvings along the base. The area where the pillar met the upper floor was a perfect circle with an unfinished center. In the hollow, rough cut stone caught the light and threw off tiny, pinprick sparkles.

Lilah tried to move in stealth, but it didn’t seem to matter. No one was paying an ounce of attention to her. They didn’t even look her way when she sidled past them to the foot of the stairs. Having reached the courtyard, she was quickly surrounded by the crowd. The air was rich with spices and something vaguely like citrus. Food and drink were abundant, piled high on top of the tables. Large bouquets of flowers stood guard at every pillar. The blooms were brightly colored oranges, reds, purples, and blues. Some tall, some short, all beautiful.

A pair of men walked past her, wearing a sling of fabric around their waist. One had a large golden pendant swinging from his neck. The other wore an arm band of braided leather. At their heels was a small woman wearing a dress similar to hers. She was carrying a large basket filled with loaves of bread. Behind her was another woman, much taller, following with a heavy metal pitcher. It was then that Lilah realized why everyone was ignoring her. She was dressed exactly like the caterers.

In the center of the large hall was a set of three long tables arranged in the shape of a horseshoe. The tables were low to the floor and pillows were laid out so that people could sit and eat comfortably. Lilah struggled to recognize the food arranged on wooden and metallic plates. Strangely shaped fruits in teals and pinks surrounded by leafy red vegetables. At strategic distances, some kind of large animal was steaming in a roast pan. The smell wafting from pan was vaguely like clove.

She kept mingling, moving around the perimeter of the room and taking in the sights. Everything was so beautiful. The food, the flowers, the guests. There wasn’t a single thing out of place. Lilah slowed to a stop near a massive bouquet of fragrant flowers that stood taller than she did and enjoyed the feeling of anonymity right up until she discovered that she didn’t know what to do with her hands. It would look weird if a caterer wasn’t actively doing anything—not that anyone was noticing her to begin with. Lilah was being ignored so thoroughly that she half wondered if they could see her at all. Maybe she wasn’t really there. Maybe she was a ghost wandering through the room, and unable to interact. Did that mean she was dead? She reached out and touched the soft petal of a nearby bloom. It felt real against her fingertips.

“Not a ghost,” she said absently.

Lilah distracted herself by looking at the architecture. It was awfully familiar. Where had she seen these breezeways before? While she was busy squinting at the mezzanine, the air in the room noticeably shifted. What was carefree and jovial became alert and tentative. People all around her stopped their conversation while their heads swiveled to look across the room. She, too, craned her head in the direction everyone was looking, eyes widening when she caught a set of broad shoulders cutting through the crowd.

Half hidden by the flowers, Lilah stared at him while he moved through the room and sat on one of the cushions at the head of the u-shaped table. Like the others, he was wearing a low slung wrap of thick fabric in a deep purple. Around one bicep was a circle of gold. His skin seemed to glow in the soft, warm cast of the sconces. It offset the way his eyes swallowed all the light as they tracked across the scene in front of him.

Lilah traced a loving line from his neck down to where his torso dipped beneath the table and wished they had more than just a kiss that night outside the bar. She could get more now. She could draw him back to that empty room and take whatever he would be willing to give her. Lilah sighed around a dry throat and her feet started moving without conscious effort. Crossing the room took a little more effort this time. People were moving at a slower, more careful, pace around the central table. Several others who were dressed like her sidled between the small groups to bring additional dishes to lay before Brasa. Elaborate plates of food steamed next to a large pitcher. He neither looked at, nor touched, either of them.

For the most part, he ignored the various other guests, though she saw a few of them try to engage him in conversation. Brasa’s responses were clipped, if he gave one at all. His attention seemed far, far away and Lilah thought that he looked a little bit sad. It moved her to hasten her step along the length of the table until she angled around the corner. Without a single ounce of preamble, Lilah dropped to kneel on the cushion beside him.

“Hello,” she greeted him a confident toss of her head.

Brasa turned and, for the barest second, she thought he might not recognize her. He blinked slowly, then said her name in a warm, tender voice. Lilah’s smile widened to a grin while she moved closer. Her hands gathered up the strips of her skirt so that both her knees rested on the thick, soft pillow. It was large enough to seat at least three people easily. She reached out and cupped his jaw. Like the flower, she could feel soft skin beneath her hand. He was as warm to her now as he was when she was awake. Warm and real and inviting. Lilah leaned forward and kissed him lightly once, then pulled away a scant inch. She held herself there, waiting for his reaction.

Brasa didn’t disappoint. He shifted towards her and returned the kiss with firm intensity. Lilah’s eyes closed against the way it burned through her. His tongue swiped across the seam of her lips and Lilah could taste the sweetness that hinted at venom. She held tight to him, pressing against his side with a low sound of pleasure. It felt too good to be a dream. Too real.

He broke the kiss, “I did not expect to see you here.”

“Where is here, exactly?” Lilah asked as she caught her breath.

“A memory,” he answered, picking up her hand and touching his mouth to her palm.

She stared at the way his lips moved to her wrist with slow, deliberate kisses. “Memory?”

Brasa nodded, but didn’t explain further. He nuzzled her forearm and up to her shoulder where he dotted little kisses all the way up to the curve of her neck. Lilah tilted her head to the side with a sigh. Her eyes fell half closed as he nipped along her jaw until he reached her lips. He brushed a barely there kiss against them before returning for something deeper.

In between one kiss and the next, the sconces on the walls dimmed to almost nothing. The courtyard dropped into a deep darkness that was made even darker by the lack of moon and starlight. Lilah gasped and leaned into Brasa’s body while she looked for danger. He’d said this was a memory. He hadn’t said it was a good one.

Brasa chuckled and his arm slipped around her hips to tug her so close that she was nearly sitting in his lap, “Relax. The show is about to start.”

“Show?”

He hummed in confirmation, “One of my favorites.”

Shadows moved at the far end of the room. Brightly lit lanterns were placed in a large semi-circle. They flickered with the same light as the sconces, casting the area in shades of amber. Lilah stared in anticipation, wondering what might be in store for her. She only waited a few minutes before music began to play from somewhere off to the side. She could barely make out the musicians, swaying along as they played. The song had a hard driving beat with some kind of stringed instrument that warbled with every note.

“Do you remember when we talked about dancing?”

Lilah squinted in thought, “You mean at the burlesque show?”

He nodded, “This is almost the same. Nudity included.”

“Oh?” she breathed with lifted brows. “How much nudity are we talking?”

Brasa shrugged, “I’d say its equitable.”

More shadows shifted around the ring of light. Intrigued, Lilah focused on them, catching shimmers and sparkles winking at her from the darkness. They walked in time with the drums. Slow, purposeful movements that moved the group steadily into the light. Their steps were synchronized, arms lifting in gentle arcs over their heads. One by one, they entered the circle. Lilah was impressed by their costumes. Intricately woven ropes that were knotted in such a way as to expose as much skin as possible while only hinting at indecency. The men and women of the dance troupe slowed as they reached their places while the music dropped off into silence. A few sounds of encouragement came from the crowd, along with soft claps and whistles.

Brasa leaned down and whispered, “They’ll start with something energetic. Watch.”

Lilah watched.

He was right. After a swollen silence filled with the expectation of everyone in the room, the music started up again. The drums and the strings moved together with so much frenetic energy that Lilah was amazed anyone could stand still. She flicked her gaze around the room to find exactly that. No one was moving. Not the dancers. Not the audience. Not even the staff. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on when Brasa shifted his weight and lifted an arm.

The air in the room snapped with the sudden release of tension. A howl came from somewhere near her right, its answer floating from the balcony. In the improvised spotlight, the dancers began to move. Arms and legs and hands and feet all working together to form shapes and patterns that shifted from one to the other with such precision and speed that Lilah could barely keep up. She had no idea that a body could do that.

“They’re so good,” Lilah murmured to Brasa, unable to take her eyes off the dancers. One of them stepped forward, their hips rolling so seamlessly that the motion made her whole body ripple like a wave.

“They are,” he replied. His fingers plucked one or two of the individual strips of her dress. “Some of them have trained since they could walk. Its an honor to dance at one of our feasts.”

She took a breath, instantly connecting the dots. Turning to Brasa, she said, “Oh, that’s what this is. You told me you loved the feasts.”

Brasa smiled, “This is one of the better ones.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“What makes it so special?”

“Its the last one before we noticed the culebras were going missing.”

Lilah’s heart dropped. She couldn’t think of anything to say. All she could do was stare at Brasa’s somber face. His face remained somber for another three or four seconds before he visibly shook himself and said, “The next dance is better.”

“Better than this?” Lilah asked, forcing humor into her voice, “Because this is pretty good.”

“Oh, it gets better,” he drawled. A thought seemed to occur to him, “Would you like something to drink?”

She looked at the fare around her, strangely colored and exotic, “Can I even drink anything here? It won’t poison me?”

Brasa rolled his eyes, “This is a memory Lilah. You can have anything you want.”

The Xibalban had a point. Lilah smiled, “Alright. I’ll have a drink. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He got the attention of one of the staff and they hustled to bring over a glass and pitcher. Brasa took the glass and set it in front of Lilah. From the pitcher, he poured a honey colored liquid that was just slightly thicker than water. She picked up the glass and swirled the drink around, “Is there alcohol in this?”

“Its fermented.”

“So, yes.”

His smile was soft, “Yes, there’s alcohol in it.”

“Excellent.” Lilah took a sip, finding the drink to be extremely sweet. If it had fizz, she’d mistake it for a prosecco. She sipped a few more times before she noticed Brasa watching her with curiosity. “Hmm?”

“Do you like it?”

“I do,” she answered. “Is it actually Xibalban wine or am I just making up the taste in my head?”

Brasa laid his hand over hers and deftly guided the glass to his own lips. Lilah felt her breath catch as she watched him take a drink and lower the glass. His tongue peeked out to swipe at an errant drop, reminding Lilah of another, more intimate moment where he was licking her blood from his lips.

His head ticked to the side and he nodded, “Its as I remember it.”

“Good,” Lilah croaked around the desire building in her chest. She had to make herself look away at the dancers to clear her head. After weeks with so little contact, to be this close to him felt like standing on the edge of a cliff and looking down. Dangerous and dizzying and strangely enticing.

The music changed and the beat slowed down. Lilah sipped her drink while a few dancers walked out of the light, leaving four to continue on. The drums continue to drive the dance forward, a rumbling locomotive rhythm that she could feel vibrating in the floor beneath her. She leaned into Brasa’s side while she watched the four dancers begin circling one another.

“This one is about a rivalry. It happened a millenia ago, but it brought down two of the ruling houses,” Brasa said near her ear.

Lilah shivered as his breath warmed her skin, “What were they fighting about?”

He ran the backs of his fingers over her shoulder and down her arm, “An archery competition.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I am not.”

The dance picked up, a woman flipping backwards into a handstand. Her partner grasped her legs and bent one in an imitation of drawing back a bow. Lilah didn’t need to ask for more context as the movement dissolved into a raucous fight. They pulled each other back and forth, bending at extreme angles before releasing into acrobatic lunges. The music swelled as one of the dancers became the clear victor.

Lilah felt Brasa’s fingers drift from her arm to her thigh where he slipped between the ribbons to rest his palm against her skin. His face was very close to hers, lips hovering near her cheek. Lilah could feel every breath he took. She turned to him, but he nudged her forward with a softly spoken ‘watch’ that was almost too low for her to hear. Her eyes returned obediently to the dancers, though her attention was on the way he stroked her thigh in slow circles that moved steadily upwards.

When he reached the place where her legs were pressed together, Brasa stalled briefly before gently pressing two fingers upwards to indicate what he wanted. She didn’t have to think about it. Lilah shifted her weight and let her thighs open. Over the music, she heard Brasa’s pleased hum. His hand moved higher until her cupped her mound. With gentle pressure, Brasa teased her folds. He rubbed carefully from top to bottom and back again in a slow, thorough circle. The feeling sent little sparks from her core down her thighs all the way to her toes.

The music continued. The dancers danced. Lilah pressed her hands to the pillow just behind her hips and gave up the pretense of trying to watch the show. She turned her head to lay her temple against Brasa’s forehead, biting down on her lip while he circled her opening with a firm pressure that stopped just short of penetration. Here, he lingered, circling...circling.

Lilah arched against his hand, whining when he denied her. Incensed and wanting to force him to give her more, she caught his mouth in a harsh kiss that he returned eagerly. She kissed him over and over in quiet desperation while his hand worked steadily between her thighs. Lilah could feel how wet she was, could feel the slow tightening of muscles in her hips and belly. If he let her have just a little bit, she would come.

Brasa wouldn’t give an inch. He kissed her, teased her, made her arch into his hand, but he wouldn’t give her what she needed. Not even when Lilah rucked up the fabric around his waist to encircle his length. She swallowed down his sharp gasp and got in a handful of firm strokes before he grabbed her wrist and tugged her hand away. Her hands were gathered together and held in an unyielding grip that Lilah immediately tried and failed to break. He laughed at her frustration, then went back to petting her with that same, slow tempo.

The song ended and, in the silence, Lilah’s breaths were so loud that she felt faintly embarrassed. She sent a quick glance around the dark room to find that the edges of the courtyard were nothing but a deep, blurry void. She could still see the lanterns, could still make out the movement of the dancers, but almost nothing else remained. Even the other guests and the staff were gone. Brasa caught her distraction and made a low, huffing sound. His hand left her and he rolled to his knees. Startled, Lilah tried to rise with him. She didn’t mean to get distracted. She would try harder to focus if he would just keep touching her.

Brasa towered over her. Strong, proud, powerful. His eyes, shining and black, narrowed as he took her in. She could hardly meet his direct stare. Instead, Lilah ran her hand down his stomach, over the soft black hair that led down beneath the heavy fabric that did nothing to hide his arousal. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips to suck at the pulse on her wrist. Lilah’s mouth opened on a soundless moan, her whole body trembling when he touched his teeth to her palm—a warning, if she’d ever seen one.

Rocking forward, Brasa pushed her down onto the pillow and deftly loosened the leather belt around her waist. Here, he showed the first inklings of impatience. His hands swiped over the separated scarves that made up her dress—left and right—exposing her naked body to the air. He caressed a long line up from her stomach, taking a detour over her breasts. Lilah watched him look at her with possession looming in the shadows of his eyes.

He dropped to rest his weight on an elbow, head dipping to trace his nose down the center of her chest until he reached the mound of her breast. He kneaded it lightly while his thumb stroked over a hardened nipple. Lilah bowed upwards when he circled it with his tongue, the heat of his mouth overpowering her senses. She reached up and pushed her hands into his hair, gently urging him to rise up for a kiss.

While his mouth was busy driving every thought from Lilah’s head, Brasa’s hands were not idle. He tugged the knotted fabric from around his waist just enough to free his length and grasped her thigh to pull it up over his hip. The movement was quick and it caught part of her dress in the bend of her knee, dragging the strips along with it. The tangle of clothing didn’t deter Brasa from sinking down into her body and pressing against the wet heat of her opening.

Lilah whimpered as he breached, eyes closing at the pressure that both soothed and inflamed her. Brasa pushed forward slowly, inch by inch, until he was seated to the hilt. There, he stayed, breathing hard. She could see the effort it took to remain still. His brows were drawn together and he was biting down on his lip. Brasa wanted desperately to move, but he refused for some reason that she couldn’t comprehend. Lilah wanted him to move, too. She wanted everything that he was silently promising. Her body trembled beneath him, needing more friction, more pressure.

“Lilah,” he whispered, “Lilah...come back to me.”

Brain foggy and body thrumming, Lilah blinked confusedly at him, “What?”

“Come back to me,” he repeated. “I need you.”

She smiled fondly at him even as her hips tilted up to allow him to sink just a fraction deeper, “I’m right here.”

Brasa groaned and shook his head, “I want more than dreams.” Then, with more urgency, “Come back to me.”

Lilah tried to think around the need boiling in her blood. She knew what he meant. Every day that they were apart, she missed him more. “Okay. Okay. Give me...three days? Three days to finish this job and we’ll work something out. Stay somewhere in neutral territory.”

He kissed her hard in response and Lilah took that as a ‘yes’. When he pulled back, Brasa was smiling wide, dimples and all. Lilah found herself smiling along with him. She was giddy with the prospect of a getaway, no matter how short. As much as she was beginning to like her new comrades in crime, their constant bickering was exhausting.

Brasa dropped a quick kiss to her mouth and pressed up onto both palms so that he could get the leverage he needed. He stared down at her with his lips pulled between his teeth, all his excitement melting into something hot and burning. His hips pushed against hers—Lilah’s second warning of the night.

The first thrust was slow, out and in. The second was faster and the third faster, still. Lilah closed her eyes against the feeling of finally getting what she wanted. It was amazing. It was perfect. It was—

Morning.

Lilah silenced the alarm on her phone and glared at the ceiling, “What a perfect way to start the day. Twat blocked by my subconscious. Fucking great.”

A knock came to her door, “Time to get up, sleeping beauty. We gotta get on the road if we’re gonna rob that church.”

Seth. She was supposed to be working through the final details with him while Richie slept.

“I’m up!” she called back. Then, under her breath, “Against my will.”

Lilah got out of bed and showered. After dressing and pulling on some shoes, she grabbed the back she packed for the trip. On her way out the door, she picked up her phone to find a message notification from Brasa. He’d sent her three or four hotels, asking for her preference. Lilah smiled down at them and clicked off the screen. She would spend the long hours in the car working through the options and figuring out where they would go. All she had to do was get the staff, and then she was home free.

#from dusk til dawn: the series #brasa #from dusk til dawn #au #maurice compte #the usurper #soulmates

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downwiththeficness · 1 month ago

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The Usurper-Chapter Twenty Five

Word Count: ~4,200

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

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Translating the book was a hell of a lot easier with Javier’s program. The Book of the Scribe had many of the same elements present in the tome she already translated. Lilah compared some of the sections from one to the other and decided that they were definitely written by the same person. Same word choice. Same way of delivering information. Same illustration style. While the Book of the Scribe was a compendium of history with accompanying commentary, the smaller book was the Cliff Notes. An easy to carry reference for rituals on the go.

Lilah skimmed the pages while she waited for program to work through the part she was most interested in. On the computer screen, a yellow bar whizzed across the screen, highlighting sections to be translated before moving on. The letters appeared slowly, one by one, forming words that she refused to read until she had it all.

With one hand, Lilah reached over and grabbed a glass of vodka and lime. She drank it slowly, forcing herself to stare at the odd texture of the Book of the Scribe and not at the computer screen. It was smooth in places and wrinkled in others. There was no lettering or any kind of writing on the outside to indicate a title or the author. Despite the theft of relics taking up the most of her income, Lilah didn’t have the expertise to know the book’s age. She didn’t think knowing all about ancient book binding would do her any good if the book, itself, wasn’t from this dimension.

The glass was empty too soon. She contemplated pouring another while focused on the laptop screen. The program gave a happy little ping to let her know that it had finished its task. A long section of English text ran side by side with the same section in Xibalban. She read it. Read it again. And then, read it a third time. On the fourth time through, Lilah’s nose was so close to the screen that her breath fanned across it, forming a puff of mist on the screen.

“No,” she muttered to the empty room. Lilah blinked hard to clear the way her vision blurred and sat back. The words formed sentences, which then formed ideas. All perfectly normal for a book. “No. There’s got to be a mistake.”

It couldn’t say what Lilah thought it said. There was no reality where the translation was correct. Lilah selected the passage and had it translated again. While she waited, Lilah rolled over on her hip and snagged the vodka from her nightstand. Her hands were shaking so hard that she nearly dropped it. Leaning against the headboard, Lilah drank straight from the bottle while a yellow bar moved across the computer screen.

A few minutes later, Lilah looked at the text again. It was the same. She slammed the laptop closed and pushed it across the mattress. Then, because it seemed like a good idea, she drank more vodka. While she drank, Lilah mulled over what she now knew.

“Of course,” she said to the ceiling. “Of course that’s how it ends.”

The more Lilah thought about it, the more she began to think that she really wasn’t in any different a position than when she started. The only difference between now and twenty minutes ago was a matter of details. Details that fucking sucked, but details nonetheless.

“There has to be something I can do,” Lilah whispered. A small voice echoed back that there wasn’t. What she read felt like a fucking prophecy and, while she didn’t have a lot of experience with prophecies, she thought that it was generally accepted that they came true. There wasn’t anything in the passage about how to stop the inevitable and Lilah was fresh out of plucky young heroes to intervene at just the right moment.

Beside her, Lilah’s phone buzzed. She ignored it and began scrolling through the rest of the text, thinking maybe there was something in it that would help. A counter ritual or some kind of shield. Anything that she could use for protection. If not, maybe the professor Seth mentioned had some ideas. As the words flew by, Lilah tried to push down a vague sense of panic. The silver lining of the whole thing was that she had time—time, and the one thing Amaru would need to see this through. Without the book, she might only be guessing at what she needed to do to pull off the ritual.

The phone buzzed again. She passed a hand over her eyes and picked it up. A notification popped up over her messages app. Lilah tapped it.

I could feel that you hadn’t gone far. Followed by, Do you really think a bar is the safest place for you right now?

She smiled and ran her fingers over Brasa’s text. Lilah missed him. Missed talking to him. Missed showing him all the fun things about her world. She even missed the way arguing with him made her so damn frustrated. After so many months in close quarters, waking up without knowing she would see him was disappointing.

Lilah opened up the message and her thumbs hovered over the screen. I was wondering when you’d figure it out, she wrote.

There was a pause before she got a reply, I didn’t. Javier told me.

She smiled and rolled her eyes. Quickly, Lilah typed out, You tell him I’ll get him back if it takes a hundred years.

Noted, Brasa replied. Then, I would like to visit you.

Lilah’s heart gave a little lurch. He still wanted to see her? After everything she’d done? Her fingers eagerly tapped out a response. Okay. When?

Tonight.

Okay, she repeated. I’ll have to tell the boys. They won’t like being surprised.

I’m not worried about them.

No, of course not.

The time it took for Brasa to respond made her think the conversation was over. Lilah stared at their shared messages and tried to come up with a believable way to continue the conversation. Brasa was definitely going to want some answers for the way she left him and Lilah was prepared to justify what she’d done. She hoped that they could come to some kind of agreement, if only an agreement that they agreed to disagree. There were bigger things that needed to be dealt with, other than their respective egos.

Lilah had only just set the phone aside when it buzzed again. The screen lit up with a message. I am worried about you.

She sighed and felt her lips lift into a soft smile. I’m worried about you, too.

No other message came after that. Lilah dropped the phone on the bed and drank again from the vodka bottle. After swallowing down a healthy swig, Lilah briefly read the metallic label to check the proof and decided that she should probably stop drinking. She was already nervous about seeing Brasa again—this time in real life—and she wanted to be sober for it.

Rising, Lilah went over to the small bundle of clothing she’d accumulated. While most of it was practical and suited her life at the bar, it didn’t seem to fit the bill of meeting her sort-of lover for the first time since...well, since she ran out on him. She held up a t shirt with a cartoon lizard on it, trying to imagine having what was definitely going to be a serious conversation while wearing it. Scoffing, Lilah tossed it to the side.

She scratched her head and looked helplessly around for something that didn’t have a kitschy slogan emblazoned across the front. Her eyes fell on the glittering dress hanging on the back of her door. The notion of meeting Brasa while wearing it was appealing. She smiled, but nixed the idea. Lilah didn’t want to over-correct, even though she was absolutely sure Brasa would love it. She kept looking and spotted a swatch of white fabric throw haphazardly over the end of the bed. Lilah smirked and picked it up.

A few minutes later, she breezed into the office where Seth was counting cash for the register, “I need a belt.”

He looked up as she entered and lifted a brow, “What?”

“I need a belt. Brown, if you have it.”

“Why?”

“I’m meeting someone.”

“Who?”

“Brasa.”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“Where?”

“Here,” she snapped at him. “Are you gonna follow up with ‘how’ or do the five ‘w’ questions cover it?”

Seth’s body tensed, “He’s coming here?”

“Yes.”

“Is he planning on killing us while he’s here?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he sighed tiredly, running his thumb over his eyebrow. “I’ll get you a belt.” A pause, “You’re not planning on strangling him with it, are you?”

Lilah laughed, “No. Wouldn’t work, anyways. He’s immortal, you know.”

“I do know,” he replied, with meaning. He stood and left the room, returning shortly with a brown belt looped around his fist. Seth handed it to her, saying, “Why do you need a belt to see Brasa?”

She fiddled with the buckle, “I only have one piece of clothing that didn’t come from a convenience store. It needs a belt.”

“Ah,” he breathed. “Is he still mad?”

“No idea,” Lilah replied with a shrug. “He seems kind of calm about it, but he can be hard to read.”

Seth leaned a hip on his desk, “You need back up?”

“Nah. He can’t hurt me.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t take you.”

Lilah couldn’t argue with that. “I’m hoping I won’t have to convince him not to.”

His answering hum didn’t sound convinced. Lilah wasn’t very convinced, herself. She was under no illusion that Brasa could and would respond to her underhanded actions with underhanded actions of his own if he felt like it was the best thing to do. All his calm and all his worry could be just a strategy to put her off her guard. She could only hope that he would wait long enough for her to explain.

“Well,” Seth said. “I don’t see why you shouldn’t be prepared, just in case.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a small pistol, offering it to her.

Lilah shook her head, “I’m not good with guns. Terrible aim.”

“Then, you get close enough that aim won’t matter,” he replied firmly. His wrist flicked, shaking the gun in her direction. “Take it.”

Reluctantly, Lilah grasped the handle and checked the safety. Then, the mag. Then, the chamber. Assured that it wouldn’t go off accidentally, she held it with the barrel pointed towards the ground and said, “Thanks. For the belt and the...gun.”

“No problem. Listen, we got a truck that’s late and I gotta raise some hell with our vendor. When is Brasa supposed to be here?”

“Uh, he said tonight. I’m going to assume that’s after sunset.”

A nod, “You stop in here before you meet him. I want to know when an enemy is on my turf.”

“I’ll do that.”

As it turned out, Lilah was right. Brasa arrived not long after sunset. Lilah was true to her word and dropped by the office on her way down the hall. She leaned through the doorway, “He’s here.”

Richie looked up, “Who?”

“Brasa,” Seth answered for her. He was signing off on what looked like paychecks.

Richie lifted a brow, “Are we going to fight?”

Lilah sighed, “No. At least, I hope not.”

“Is she armed?” Richie asked his brother.

Seth kept signing, “She is.”

“Good.” Then, to Lilah, “Have fun!”

“Thanks,” she deadpanned before turning and making her way down the hall, through the bar floor, and out the front door. While she walked, she could feel the weight of the gun pushed into her belt at the small of her back. It was heavy, and she knew it would throw off her already terrible aim. She almost decided not to carry it. A bullet wasn’t going to hurt Brasa, would probably only make him more angry. Lilah decided that making Seth feel more comfortable was worth feeling the weight of the pistol at her back, even if it wouldn’t necessarily help her.

Parked at an angle about twenty feet from her was a black SUV. Through the window, she could see a familiar face—the kid who first drove her out into the desert was sitting at the wheel. His window was rolled down and a lit cigarette hung from an arm draped over the side of the car. He acknowledged her with a nod. Lilah returned the gesture.

The back door opened and a boot dropped down onto the cracked asphalt below. Brasa got out of the car in a smooth, elegant movement. Lilah took him in, trying to gain some kind of clue about how he was feeling. His expression was unreadable behind his the gold rimmed aviators. The turn of his mouth was neutral and he’d freshly shaved. He was wearing his leather coat, but she could see a soft blue shirt peeking out from beneath the lapel. Brasa closed the door behind him and walked a few steps towards her, stopping a polite distance away. Then, he took off his sunglasses with one gloved hand and tucked them into his pocket.

Lilah felt her breath catch in the back of her throat. There was something very much like the Brasa she met the night he’d taken her from the church in the person standing in front of her. His shoulders were pulled back and his chin was lifted. The lights of the bar seemed to cringe away from his body, leaving him fringed in shadow. His eyes...she swallowed hard. Brasa’s eyes were blazing with unchecked emotion. She didn’t know which emotion, exactly, but it gripped her like a physical thing, holding her in place.

She cleared her throat and tried not to fidget. There were plenty of things she wanted to say to him, mostly about how sorry she was that she’d left and how necessary it had been for her to do so. Lilah knew that she needed to explain things to him, but couldn’t figure out how she wanted to begin now that she was finally face to face with him. She started to say something, to greet him like a normal person. Her mouth refused to form around the words. They stuck at the back of her throat, scratching their way downwards in an effort to escape.

Brasa’s eyes continued to convey his emotion. She could see the way his irises wanted to expand. The edges wavered, cutting sporadically into the white. Whether it was from anger or betrayal or rage, she couldn’t tell. All of that would be understandable, given what she’d done. Lilah decided that she was going to keep her mouth shut and give him the opportunity to say it.

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

The surprise she felt at those four words broke her from the spell that held her still, Lilah felt half a smile cross her lips, “Uh, yeah. Yeah I am.”

A little wrinkle formed between his brows, “Javier said you used our card.”

“Oh,” she said. “Yeah, that was for a job. I needed a dress.” Then, because she couldn’t help herself, Lilah turned a coy shoulder, “You want to see it?”

The muscles around his mouth twitched, as if he were hiding a smile, “I don’t think either Gecko would tolerate me entering their bar. Its bad enough I’m setting foot in their territory.”

“They seemed pretty okay with it when I talked to them about your visit.”

Brasa’s gaze shifted past her, “Seth is standing at the bar, staring at us. Richie is on the roof.” He took a single step closer, “And you are armed.”

Lilah barely resisted the urge to press her hand against the gun slipped into the belt at her back, “Uh, yep. I am armed. It was kind of a requirement. Just in case you decided to steal away with me.”

She said it in a dismissive, lighthearted way, but they both knew it was the truth. If he truly wanted to, Brasa could reach out, snatch her up, and haul her back to the caves. Lilah could kick and scream the whole way, but it wouldn’t deter him. No one, not even Richie, could stop him.

“The thought had crossed my mind,” he replied in a level voice. “A gun wouldn’t deter me.”

“I am...very aware of that.” Lilah pushed her hair back from her face, “I got the book.”

Brasa frowned, “You told me.”

“I also translated it.”

His brows lifted, “And?”

“I know what Amaru is planning. And, I know how she is going to do it.”

“Do you?” There was something odd in his tone, something that sounded a little too close to apprehension.

Lilah ignored it and continued, “We know that she wants to open a door. There’s a ritual in the book that tells her how. She’ll need some relics—a cup and a few other things—but, the main thing she needs is a heart.” She paused, then said, “A certain kind of heart. A, uh, Xibalban heart. Freshly cut from the chest.”

For the first time since stepping out of the car, Brasa broke eye contact with her. He hummed lowly and shifted his weight. Lilah waited for him to say something, or show surprise, or give any kind of sign that he understood the gravity of what she was saying. He didn’t.

Lilah stared at him in confusion before a realization hit her with the force of a punch to the face. “You son of a bitch!”

Brasa’s hand lifted in defense, “Lilah…”

“No, don’t say my name like that,” she bit out. “Don’t say my name like I’m overreacting.”

He shook his head, “Let’s just take a breath.”

“You can take a fucking hike, you asshole!” Lilah pushed at his chest. “You knew! You knew the whole time!”

Once she got started, it felt impossible to stop. Her fists flew at Brasa, hitting him in the chest, the shoulder, across the temple. He let her rage at him for half a minute before taking her wrists in his hands and pulling her into his chest. Lilah struggled to get free, whipping her shoulders left and right. He held on, even managed to get an arm around her body so that she was caged in. Lilah kept pushing at him, stomping her feet and jerking backwards. It didn’t do anything but dislodged the gun at her back.

“Stop, Lilah.”

“Fuck you.”

“I know,” he soothed. “I know you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad,” she spit at him. “I’m fucking furious, you lying sack of shit. You should have told me she was going to use you.”

“It doesn’t have to be me. She could use Javier’s heart, same as mine.”

Lilah looked him in the eyes, feeling tears well up, “Bullshit. Javier’ll fight back.” She took a shuddering breath, “You won’t.”

His expression turned soft and his grip loosened enough that Lilah was able to stumble away. She righted her clothes and sniffed back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Her breath pushed in and out of her lungs and she could feel the blood in her veins rushing to and from the heart that pounded in her chest. To give herself another few seconds to regulate the tumult inside her, Lilah leaned down and picked up the gun.

She couldn’t believe how gullible she’d been. She couldn’t believe that she thought for even a second that Brasa wasn’t fully aware of what Amaru was planning for him.God, he’d even told her that he worked with Javier on opening the door the first time.For someone who had just planned a heist in twenty four hours, she was such an idiot.

Brasa’s expression was very careful in its mirth, “Would it make you feel better to shoot me?”

“It might,” Lilah bit out.

He chuckled and squared his shoulders, as if in invitation. Lilah was sorely tempted to follow through on her threat. When were they going to stop lying to each other? When were they going to play on the same team?

Brasa watched her working to calm herself in silence until Lilah let out a huge, ugly breath. He tugged absently at his gloves, saying, “I’m sorry. Its why I tried to keep the book from her. I was the one who performed the ritual before and even I struggled to remember it in its entirety. Fortunately for us, her memories are clouded by the strength of her vessel. Without the book, she’ll never be able to open the door.”

Lilah’s lip curled, “That doesn’t mean she won’t try.” She stomped up to him, got right up into his face, and said, “Did you really think that not knowing the details would have stopped her?”

His voice was very small, “I hoped.”

“You can’t risk your life on hope, Brasa.” Lilah’s words were rough and she could hear the way they were soaked in disdain. She knew he wasn’t a stupid person, knew that he could rationalize and that he could reason. Brasa was well aware of who and what Amaru was. Hoping that she would just give up was so incredibly naive that it left her at a loss.

He touched her cheek. The leather was warm and soft against her skin. Warm, soft, and familiar. Lilah leaned into his hand and closed her eyes, feeling some of the anger dissipate. She opened them again when Brasa gathered her close and rested his chin against her temple. The heat of his body, always so much warmer than the air around her, eased the tension of her body. Lilah let out another long breath and finally gave in to the urge to wrap her arms around his waist and hold on.

“You look good in my shirt.” The words rumbled in his chest and she could hear the appreciation in this tone.

“Shut up,” Lilah shot back even though she was laughing a little.

“I will not,” Brasa replied, with humor. “You do look good.”

She rolled her eyes, “Thank you.” Lilah pulled away and tilted her head back to look up at him, “You look good, too. Healed.”

His eyes darted to the side briefly, “That...was not my finest moment.”

Lilah nodded, “She had no right to do that.”

Brasa shrugged, “Its not the first time.”

Another wave of anger rolled over her. Lilah very nearly asked ‘how many times’, but she didn’t need the answer to that question. Instead, she changed the subject, “I know you want me to come back, but I need to do a few things first.”

“What things?”

“Like I said, there are relics she needs to complete the ritual. I’m going to track them down.”

His eyes glittered and his voice took on a cajoling tone, “Are you sure you’re not just missing work?”

“Oh, this isn’t work. Work means that I’ll get paid. This is preventing an apocalypse. Totally pro bono.”

“You don’t have to stay here to steal a few relics.”

Lilah smiled, “I won’t really be staying here much. I would be surprised if any of them were within a five hundred mile radius.” Brasa looked immediately uncomfortable with the idea of her traveling. She felt moved to comfort him, “I’ll get them as quickly as I can.”

“What will you do with them after you track them down?”

“Destroy them. Make sure she can’t do the ritual, even if she gets the book.”

“And, after that?”

She hesitated. Lilah hadn’t thought that much further ahead. All the turmoil of learning about how Amaru was going to open the door and all the determination it took to figure out how to stop her took up most of Lilah’s attention. “I think we’ll have to kill her. I don’t know any other way to truly stop what she’s trying to do if she’s still...alive.”

“You might be right.” From somewhere above, there came a growl. Brasa glanced up and frowned, “I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

Lilah nodded and moved to let him go, pausing when Brasa’s arms kept her close. He leaned down and dropped a slow kiss to her mouth. The kiss was just long enough to tempt her and short enough to leave her wanting—which, she supposed, was the point. Brasa loosed his hold on her and said, “I’ll be checking in.”

“In real life,” she replied, “or in some kind of weird shared dream?”

His brows lifted with both surprise and mirth. “I wasn’t sure it would actually happen,” he explained, “since you’re human.”

Lilah held up a finger, “Almost human.”

Brasa acknowledged her assertion with a dip of his chin, “I’ve heard its common when bondmates are separated.”

Lilah shrugged, “I guess I’ll add it to the list of odd relationship quirks.”

His mouth lifted in a teasing smile, “Maybe next time you can show me the dress you bought.”

Lilah felt her face warm and she offered him a sly, “Maybe.”

Brasa laughed soundlessly and turned to get back in the car. He opened the door to the backseat and sent her one last, long look before dropping inside. Lilah watched the SUV speed away until the taillights were dim in the distance.

A soft thud came from her right and Richie appeared in her periphery, “So, he actually wasn’t here to kills us. Go figure.”

#from dusk til dawn: the series #brasa #from dusk til dawn #au #maurice compte #the usurper #soulmates

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