Page 55 of Cursed Lifeline (Eternal Love)

Fifty Four

Viktor

song: supermassive black hole | Muse

Sloshing through puddles and debris, Alfred stays close to my side and hurriedly follows me to the six-way in the underground tunnels. Annoyed, I glance at him over my shoulder and swear if the man stood any closer, we’d be holding fucking hands.

“As much as I don’t fault you for your preference in life, Alfred, my cock prefers a willing wet cunt,” I hiss under my breath as the fool almost trips me when we round a tight, dark bend.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he scoffs.

Coming to a stop, Alfred eyes the tunnel around us in slight horror and steps closer.

“Listen, babysitter…”

His eyes flash furiously to mine.

“I’m a watcher on the Magister Council. A council that has been around longer than…”

“I don’t care what you do, how you do it, or who you do it with. So long as it doesn’t involve me or a fae princess whose heart doesn’t deserve a man who can’t make up his damn mind.”

The mention of the princess makes him take a step back. Finally.

“Evangeline is the only thing on my mind,” he warns, making me wish the princess was here herself to hear his confession. “What’s more she’s the only woman who has and will ever have my heart. Tell me, can she say the same about you?”

Putting up a front and eyeing the babysitter like a jealous suitor who is willing to fight for the woman he loves, I’m inclined to believe he’s telling the truth about his feelings, his intentions, when he steps closer and says, “I’m content to grow old loving her from afar until I take my last breath. Though I yearn for her love in return, I don’t need it to love her with all my heart until my dying day. No man could ever love her like I do.”

His admission reminds me of my past.

“No babysitter, I don’t think any man ever could,” I sigh, turning and walking further down the tunnel.

We walk for a moment in silence. Eventually, Alfred eyes me curiously, obviously wondering if I’ll stand down and let him claim the princess I’ve made him believe I have my heart set on. I debate telling him the truth, that ever since he left us in that cave decades ago, I’ve only ever felt a brotherly love towards Evangeline.But watching the man worry has become a sick and twisted pleasurable pastime of mine, and so I let him think what he wants instead of indulging his questioning stare with the answers he seeks.

Besides, the fight is good for him.

Keeps his mind off other things like…

“What the fuck was that?” Alfred yelps as he clings to me when we round another corner.

Peeling his hands off my arm, I listen closely and hear the faint echoes of a poltergeist drifting our way from further down the tunnel.

“Spirits,” I shrug. “The undead. Take your pick.”

“I thought your kind was the only undead I had to worry about crossing paths with,” he stammers, hurrying along after me when I begin to pick up my pace. “What other kind of spirits do I have to worry about underground?”

“Phantoms, revenants, banshees, to name a few,” I grin as we step into the six-way, and the babysitter starts to shake in his shoes. When he’s intent on watching his back, his sides, and anywhere he feels threatened instead of meeting my eyes, I say, “Well, here we are.”

Alfred attempts to focus and study the dark space. Graffiti stains the walls and pools of liquid puddles at our feet. Water, blood, or worse, I’m not quite sure what it is. It’s all a mystery. Finally, he says, “I’m supposed to bring Esme here?”

I nod.

“And you’re staying here until it’s time for the fight?”

I nod again.

Outraged, his mind finally disassociates with the horror surrounding him, and he says, “How the hell am I supposed to find my way back, let alone navigate my way here again tonight? If I had Silas and Caelum to help, maybe. But…”

A banging noise echoes up the tunnel. It is followed by a brutal knocking and rattling of chains. Alfred looks at me wide-eyed, and I swear the man has half a mind to jump into my arms for safety.

Laughing at the irony of his fear of blood and ghostly spirits, I ask, “Why on earth did the Magister Council ever employ you?”

“I was Esme’s brother.”

“In her first life,” I say. “What is the reason for allowing you to continue her training in her second and third?”

Shaking his head, he starts to back away. Terror fills his eyes as the banging grows louder, a foul odor invades the space, and a can is viciously thrown through the air between us.

Horrified, he looks in the direction the spirit hucked the object from.

“They can’t hurt you unless you let them,” I warn as Alfred steps further away.

“Yeah right,” he laughs sarcastically.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I grin, “How is it you're not afraid of vampires, but ghosts…”

“You, I can see,” he states the obvious, “Them I…”

His voice trails off as his fear gets the better of him.

The rattling and knocking grows closer.

“If you start to run now, odds are you’ll beat them to the entrance.”

His terrified eyes flash to mine. Shrugging, I add, “It’s either that, or stand here and take your chance with the devil.”

Instantly, Alfred turns around and bolts for freedom. I laugh as his petrified screams echo off the concrete walls, and Talon and Dimitri step to my side.

“That wasn’t nice,” I grin.

Talon chuckles. “You did say scare the guy. It’s not our fault he’s afraid of his own shadow.”

“He’ll likely shit himself before he sees the outside,” Dimitri laughs.

“True,” I grin. “But if he’s ever going to man up and learn to get over his fears, he needs to start now before a certain fae princess falls more in love with a man who might love her back, but I worry could never protect her.”

Another rattling noise down a tunnel to our left catches all three of our attention.

“Did you bring company?” I ask.

My brothers in the coven shake their heads no.

“Everyone is not supposed to arrive until later,” Talon says as I make my way toward the phantom sound. “Tickets sold out, but we made sure everyone knew not to arrive until the sun went down.”

I follow a knocking noise to a turn. Looking back at Talon and Dimitri, I motion for them to stay where they are and let me investigate. I know these tunnels better than they do. If there is any danger, I’ll deal with it. Besides, now that we’ve seemed to have finally made amends, I wouldn’t want Felix getting pissed at me if one of them got hurt.

Stalking quietly around the bend, I notice a faint light a few yards away. Stealthy making my way towards it, I hold my breath as I near the rattling and knocking noise. Searching the area, I come up empty until my gaze lands on a tin can held above my head by a thin wire. Dripping from the canister, red plasma plops to the floor at my feet. Smart enough not to inhale, I raise my palm and let the warm liquid fill it before turning around and looking for whoever or whatever it may be coming from.

As my gaze falls over my left shoulder, a bright light blinds my eyes. Stumbling back a step, I raise my hands just in time as a figure plummets towards me and violently forces me up against the nearest concrete wall. Hands holding the banshee as far away as possible, it takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the bright light and realize - it’s not a spirit that attacked me.

No.

It’s a woman.

Our gazes sharpen, and as she takes in my startled stare, hers miraculously softens.

Peaceful eyes gently hold mine.

Every timid glance from them feels like a sensual touch.

She smiles.

It’s warm and inviting, tying me to a hopeful thread of something I’ve never been lucky enough to grasp before.

Home.

“Hello,” she softly greets me.

“Hello,” I awkwardly grin.

Overcome by her presence, I suddenly rejoin the land of the lost the moment she steps out of my embrace and the warmth of her skin leaves mine.

“Sorry,” she blushes. “I thought you were someone else.”

Did she really though?

My mind warns she’s not telling the truth.

Speechless, I take in her curves, her lean physique, her shapely thighs, small waist, mouthwatering tits and groan.

“I’m sorry?” she says, thinking I’ve said something when I haven’t.

After a moment, when I still haven’t responded, she asks, “Do you come here often?”

On instinct, I answer, “Only when I know you’ll be waiting for me.”

My response is met with a demure smile. A blush creeps across her charming face as she bashfully lowers her gaze.

Clearing my throat, I step forward and ask, “What is a breathtaking creature like you doing in the tunnels below Las Vegas?”

“I heard there was a fight,” she grins. “A bloody brawl I don’t intend to miss.”

My conscience warns me to pay attention to her words, but her light caramel eyes and long coffee-brown hair pull me in and have me teasing, “You like a fight, sweetie?”

I drown in the buttery, rich, toasted color of her stare as she smirks, “Depends on who I am fighting.”

Fuck, women like her don’t just drop out of thin air. There has to be a catch.

“Well,” I taunt, “Lucky for you, you’re talking to the man who rigs the fights you seek.”

Her eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Can I show you where it’s taking place?” I ask, slightly nervous she might turn me down.

Because damn it, I want to know everything about her.

Where she came from.

How I can keep her.

“Sure,” she smirks. “I’ll meet you ahead, just give me a minute.”

She gestures over her shoulder like she needs to grab something.

A purse. A bag. A weapon she’d be smart to carry since she ventured into the tunnels alone.

I nod, turn, and start to make my way back towards the six-way. As I’m just about to turn the bend, she says, “If we lose each other, meet me where the three tunnels bend into one. There— I’ll be waiting for you .”

My heart stops.

My mind races.

What did she just fucking say?

Turning, I focus on her silhouette in the distance. Illuminated by the lonely light, she reaches up high and cuts the cord to the tin can of blood. Pouring it out into the slosh at her feet, she reaches into the shadows, produces a bag, and slings it over her back. Before she turns my way, I catch a glimpse of a wooden stake sticking out from the confines she’s slung over her shoulders.

Swallowing hard, her peaceful eyes hold mine as she approaches, and it suddenly hits me.

I’m cursed.

Just like Felix.

Just like my fucking father.