Author's Note: So updates will so slow down significantly after this chapter (I'm hoping to have chapters up once a week here after) which I do apologize for! Also! Please be aware this chapter contains a bit of sensitive material with implied attempted rape—it's very brief this is the trigger warning.
Gandriel refrained from rolling his eyes from the umpteenth time as he listened to the drunk patrons nearest the window throw sloppy compliments to the busty waitress serving them, for the twelfth time since his arrival, bidding she join them in their chambers later.
The lady, wise as she were, declined the offer once again.
The male was glad there seemed to be someone with at least a shred of dignity in this delightful slum. He adjusted his position against pillar of the inn nearest the window but just out of sight, the rain having already numbed his soaked limbs.
The weight of what had happened in Vanica had lightened a bit after seeing Lukas's dead body, another monster effectively purged from the world and unable to touch the innocent again.
He still wished he'd been have able to be the one to gut him.
Gandriel tried not to let his mind wander to the scrap of blue fabric, clearly ripped from the bust, that had been clasped in the foul male's hand upon finding his rain swollen corpse. He gritted his teeth as the thought of what the male had tried to force upon Celeste's sister danced through his mind.
Anyone with such foul intentions deserved their throat slit and he would be happy to take the mantle of doing it to any idiotic soul himself.
Fortunately they'd found Lukas with his pants still securely clasped about his waist, his advances halted by his death before he'd ever gotten that far.
He'd have to remember to thank whatever slaver had taken it upon themselves to spare the young girl from that fate. That was if they didn't try to kill him first.
He doubted they were very pleased with his and Celeste's little incident with the Queen's Dame, assuming any of those sailors had survived the storm. He probably should have thought it through more.
A loud, gnarly cry of 'delight' echoed from the window above followed by a gravelly bark of satisfaction from the male who'd just achieved his completion.
Gandriel nestled down further in his cloak, glowering in annoyance.
What he'd give to have a nice dry, warm bed and a lovely female to keep him company. Mother knew she wouldn't have to fake her pleasure.
Especially now that he wasn't ensnared to that woman . . . thing he'd so foolishly bargained with.
Another thing he hadn't exactly planned.
He hoped she'd enjoyed the little note he'd left her in his scramble from his apartment, a small farewell to the most foolish bargain he'd ever made.
He shook the thought from his mind, digging his hands into his pockets. There were other more pressing matters at hand that needed to be dealt with other than his discomfort and desires.
He'd been unsuccessful in fishing out any relevant information regarding the whereabouts of the slavers or their cargo, only gaining bits of pieces here and there concerning shipments of spirits and outgoing loads of supplies.
He had, however, been privy to a delightfully detailed and exciting tale of a young scout regarding some discarded wide-mouthed glass bottles and some sleazily detailed novels. Apparently, it had taken three men to rescue the poor fool from his predicament. Gandriel had nearly lost his composure at the tale.
Glancing around, the male wondered where Celeste had slipped off to and if she'd managed to find anything. It had been nearly an hour since her departure and a feeling of unease was beginning to settle in his gut.
It was the next cat-like screech from the rooms above that set Gandriel into motion, ending off his vigil at the side of the tavern as he made his way after where Celeste had disappeared into the darkness.
Surely there was something more useful he could be doing without having to bear witness to that, and he was willing to risk Celeste's wrath to flee it.
Shoving his hands into his pockets beneath his cloak, Gandriel turned the corner farthest from the Inn, down the same alley his companion had vanished into, intending to do his own bit of investigating to see what or who he could find.
Celeste wound through the array of underground tunnels, twisting and turning in a labyrinth designed to confuse those who didn't know the way.
However, with the scent of Anelisse to guide her Celeste navigated the passages with expertise. She turned left, and then right, and then left again. Whoever had designed these tunnels had clearly intended to keep outsiders as just that, out.
She moved quietly, blending easily into the shadows, the darkness a cool, familiar presence at her back as she wound down deep into the earth. Cobwebs glistened in the faint traces of light from torches placed sporadically throughout the tunnels in spots that would most certainly lead someone astray if they were to follow them.
But Anelisse's scent curved down a narrow, dark, corridor, the other scents of people trailing off and disappearing down another long, tapered hallway to the left.
The dagger into Celeste's hand was a comforting weight - while she'd never had the formal training that would have been her salvation in a fight, she remembered enough to know how to down a surprised opponent and get loose.
It wasn't as much as she would have hoped for, but it would have to do.
No sound emanated from the corridor, only the faint dripping of water trickling down from the upper levels. Celeste immediately tightened her body, especially as Anelisse's scent grew stronger but only silence reigned, an unsettling combination.
Fallon had warned that the slavers were tricky and that she would be wise to keep her eyes sharp.
It was a trap, she realized as she slowed to a crawl, her body poised to spring as she took on a defensive stance. Such silence could only mean that someone or something was waiting for her approach. Brandishing the dagger, Celeste crossed the last few feet of the tunnel and tucked herself into the shadow beside the archway gaping before her.
Anelisse's scent was near smothering here, interwoven with the now-familiar crisp scent of blood.
A cascade of terror raced through Celeste as she thought to what they might have done to her sister. She tightened her grip on the dagger as she eased to the side of the large room and listened.
Only faint trickles of torchlight illuminated the dark room filled with more barrels and boxes. On the floor two limp figures lay, pools of blood seeping into the packed dirt beneath them.
The scent was full of degrade and age, mortal blood.
But not the scent of Anelisse, the thick liquid pooling around the two prone figures didn't belong to her. Upon cautious closer inspection, Celeste saw both had slit throats, similar to way Lukas's had been cut wide open.
Confusion struck her as she ventured further into the room, noticing the two bodies were indeed both mortal men, clothed in battered but intact iron armor, their swords still safety secured in their scabbards.
A slight rustle of fabric caught her attention, directly to her left. Purely on instinct, she turned rapidly on her heel, pressing the blade in her hand flush against the throat of her assailant. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt the cool metal of a dagger settle against her own throat at the same instant.
"Don't move." The voice was high and soft but the dagger at her throat was anything but. Silver eyes narrowed dangerously at her and pale locks fell about the woman's head from what had likely been a ridiculous updo, her once-blue dress shredded to bits and stained with dark splotches.
It took Celeste only a fraction of a moment to realize who was holding the dagger against her throat before she immediately released her grip on her own knife and dropped her arm.
"Anelisse?" she breathed, going still as that dagger pressed against her throat. She glanced at it - the handle was golden and jeweled and engraved with the Pennington House crest. Lukas's dagger. "You're alive, you're in one piece-"
A choked sound of recognition came out of her sister's mouth as that cold steel in her eyes melted away to soft silver. She dropped the dagger immediately, a dull thud sounding as it fell to the damp dirt floor.
". . . Celeste?" she inquired, her whole frame shaking as she watched Celeste reach slowly up to her hood and pull it back, raven braid falling loose and draping over her soaked shoulder.
"It's just me, Anelisse, it's okay—"
A solid warmth immediately slammed into her, clinging with a fierceness that made Celeste's heart twang painfully. She wrapped her arms just as tightly around her sister, relief flooding through her as they held each other. She was fine, Anelisse was fine-
"You're okay!" Anelisse cried, her arms still tight around Celeste, warm tears trickling out of her eyes and onto Celeste's shoulder as she held her close, sobs wracking her body. "Oh, by the Mother, thank the stars, I didn't know how I was going to get to you—a-a-after they bound you and took you." She gave another sob and dug her fingers into Celeste's shoulders, as though to confirm she was really there. "Then Lukas came and I couldn't get away, I couldn't come after you-"
"Shhh, it's all right," Celeste comforted, her own eyes slick with moisture, her stomach knotting at the thought of Anelisse coming after her, trying to get her.
She pulled back from her sister and glanced her over, noticing just how extensive the bloodstains were on her dress— "Are you hurt?" She immediately reached for the bloodiest part of the dress. If she was bleeding that severely . . . "Let me see—you need to be tended to-"
Anelisse gripped Celeste's wrist, stopping her evaluation. "Celeste, I'm fine, this isn't my blood." She glanced sidelong at the two prone forms on the ground, as though she just remembered them. Her cheeks flared red even in the darkness of the room. ". . . I didn't realize necks bled so violently."
A tendril of surprise flitted through Celeste as she followed her sister's gaze toward the dead men, the scene beginning to come to life before her. "You killed them?" Celeste looked towards Anelisse who only nodded her head, her eyes sharp as she stared at the dead slavers. Celeste's eyes caught on the gold glint of the discarded dagger on the ground. ". . . With Lukas's dagger."
"They didn't see me steal it away from him, they didn't see me tuck it into my dress," Anelisse murmured, her eyes lost in memory as she looked at the discarded dagger on the ground, the gaudy gold and jewels flickering in the faint torchlight. "They only took the other one covered in blood away. They brought me down here to wait for auction, apparently some sea captain had his eye on me and I was to be separated from the others." A rare hiss of annoyance. "I knew I didn't have much time, so I just acted."
"Anelisse," Celeste fixed her eyes on her face, something like awe racing through her, "we found Lukas's body on the way inland, with scraps of your dress near him and scattered on the road coming here." Indeed, her sister's dress had been torn across the chest, revealing the delicate corset and petticoat beneath. Hot, fiery rage tore through her. "Who killed Lukas?"
Those silver eyes fixed on Celeste and without an ounce of remorse Anelisse said, "I did." Shock shot through Celeste as she thought back on Lukas's gruesomely split throat, gaping towards the sky. A wound that looked like it had been given with vengeance . . .
The blonde bent over and scooped up the knife swiftly, the object sitting awkwardly in her palm. "For what he did to Vanica, for what he did me, what he tried to take." Her voice lowered to a near whisper as she looked at the knife in her hands. "And for what he tried to do to you all those years ago."
Anelisse turned towards Celeste, a ferocity in her eyes that Celeste hadn't known she was capable of.
"I know you hid it," she shook her head, as though shaking off a daze or trance. "I know why you did, but I knew, Celeste. Knew why you came home with torn clothes, why Lukas's neck and shoulder had to be patched for weeks, where those scars came from." Silver gleamed with torchlight as she met her gaze again. "You should have finished it then, though I took delight in taking that little piece of vengeance out of his hide myself."
Celeste was at a loss for words, for the emotions racing through her at the memory of one Lukas Pennington pinning her eighteen-year-old self against a tree, trying to force himself upon her as she thrashed against his bigger body, fear and anger flitting through her.
"Be still, love," Lukas murmured as he dug his hands into Celeste's thin forearms he had pinned above her head, palms slick with sweat. "You'll only make this worse on yourself."
Blind fury and panic raced through her, sharpening her senses as she nearly bleated with the older boy upon her, his free hand groping at her, the other pinning her against the rough oak. His hot mouth slammed into hers as he forced his tongue inside, heated and claiming.
A numbness traced through her as her limbs froze in place, fear rooting her to the spot. He'd been upon her before she could react, her body frozen in surprise and fear.
She hadn't sensed him pursuing her, trotting behind her at a leisurely pace like a predator stalking his prey.
Lukas had been following her trying to befriend her since her arrival on the island, especially so since she'd taken to gutting fishes at the docks. He'd taken to spending his afternoons trotting after his father and cooing his affections to a usually blood-covered Celeste.
She'd blatantly ignored him.
Adder had made a habit of walking her home in the evenings, shooting wary looks at the older boy as he leered at her day in and day out.
She'd foolishly declined Adder's offer to walk her home this evening, her anger snapping at the old man for coddling her, she'd insisted she'd be fine on her own.
An action she fully regretted.
She felt his free hand snake up beneath her shirt, grazing over the tender skin on her abdomen, exploring and searching, gliding over her sensitive breasts. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
He squeezed once and Celeste gasped, horror racing through her.
His tongue shoved deeper into her mouth as he pressed against her, the length of him hardening against her soft pelvis—he intended to take her here and there was no one to save her, to help her—Anidre and Anelisse were at home.
She could strike him, shove him off—but at what cost? What would be the punishment for the local hated fae for hurting the almost-prince of the island? She couldn't risk Anidre, couldn't risk Anelisse, the fallout-
She was helpless, she couldn't stop this—
You're never helpless, a voice filtered through her mind, grounding her. Never let yourself be helpless, fight back always-
A shot of bright white fury burned through Celeste as Lukas toyed with the belt at her waist, reaching beneath the concealing fabric. She struck before he knew what hit him.
She headbutted the boy square in the nose, a snarl of fury escaping her lips.
He grunted in pain but kept his grip, his mouth hooking on hers once more.
She shoved against the older boy, her arms pushing and flailing as she tried to unpin herself, unhinging his mouth from her own. She was significantly smaller, frailer from being near starvation, but her strength was still superior to his own.
She dislodged the boy and, with one well-placed slash of her nails, sent him reeling backwards, blood spurting in a torrent from his torn neck and chest.
Gulping down torrents of oxygen Celeste snarled at the grounded boy, her hands curling menacingly. She'd been hurt once before, unable to protect herself and helpless to her plight, but no more. She'd kill Lukas before he touched her again.
"Monster," Lukas hissed, his eyes wide and scent flooded with fear. He scrambled away from her. "You're a monster, nothing but a monster." He launched to his feet, shaking as blood pooled down the length of his shirt before he raced off away from her.
She'd slid down against the oak upon his departure, her arms wrapped about herself. She was hated enough on this island as it were, but she couldn't let him take that, consequences be damned.
She'd be lucky if they didn't hunt her down for what she'd done to him. Lucky if they didn't go after Anidre and Anelisse-
The memory stopped as quickly as it began.
She settled for saying, "Good."
"I thought you'd approve," Anelisse's grim smile melted away into the soft expression Celeste was so familiar with. "And to think I really liked this dress, too," She swished the skirt, its bulk rustling. "Well, the color at least."
For the first time in weeks, Celeste felt a genuine laugh escape her lips. The sound caught Anelisse's attention and she beamed back gleefully.
"Lukas Pennington's tastes were as awful as his personality." She shook her head. "When I'm actually wed I fully intend to be garbed in something much less gaudy and tasteless."
"I hope the same," Celeste replied, looking at the hideously puffed gown, tight in the bodice and billowing around Anelisse's muddy legs. "Hopefully any man you'll marry will have infinitely better taste and looks."
"Night-black hair," the blonde proclaimed suddenly, tapping her chin in thought. "I've had enough of blondes to last me a lifetime."
They both chuckled softly, a small piece of normalcy falling between the two girls before they paused in silence.
"So now what?" Anelisse asked, looking around her as she shuffled back closer to Celeste's side, tucking the dagger somewhere into the folds of her shredded skirt. "Do we just leave? They've taken so many people. Many of the folks from Vanica are ones we knew." She brushed a loose curl back behind her ear. "People that were kind to us. They have Pennelope and her husband, as well as Layla, James and Marrien."
Celeste thought to the little girl who she'd saved from the water, the sweet-faced child who had barely escaped the clutches of death to now be thrown into a far worse fate.
She had her answer.
"I'm going to get you to Gandriel," a quirk of a thin ash-colored brow at the mention of the male, "and have him take you back to the Siren. I need to find the others." Celeste said, thinking back on the diverging scent she'd found in the corridor earlier. "I can't just leave them here."
"Excuse me?" Anelisse snapped, her eyes flaring, "You expect me to go with this Gandriel—someone I don't know - while you go chasing slavers all willy-nilly alone? I think not."
"Anelisse, this isn't up for discussion." Celeste turned to begin her trek back down the tunnel, following her own scent back through the labyrinth. Hopefully Gandriel had kept his post-
"Oh, I do believe it is," her sister snapped back, stepping quickly in front of Celeste, arms crossed over her chest. "If you think for one minute I'm going to let you run into this headlong without me after just getting you back—without knowing when or how you got free, by the way," a pointed look from the delicate girl, "you're going to be sorely mistaken."
"I came here to save you," Celeste retorted, "and you getting out is my main priority. I will figure out a way to get everyone else out, but I will not risk you."
"And I won't risk you." There was finality in her eyes.
So against her better judgement Celeste just sighed before conceding, "At least stay close and try not to make too much noise."
Anelisse gasped in mock offense, then hissed, loudly, in response, "I'm not the loud one, need I remind you."
The scents of the other slaves were still strong as Celeste and Anelisse trailed them through another array of winding tunnels, these broader and more adequately lit.
"They really weren't intending to let you go, were they?" Celeste murmured as she followed the much more obvious trail of the other slaves, "Considering the lengths they took to hide you down there."
"Apparently the Captain has a thing about delicate women." Anelisse wrinkled her nose as she stepped around a patch of mud, her previously bulky dress now a fraction its size from where she'd shredded those ridiculous skirts, "and since I no longer belong to Lukas, what a prize to be gained! And they didn't even have to kill him. A win-win for them."
Celeste still hadn't processed that Anelisse had been the one to slit Lukas's throat, her sweet delicate sister with painters' hands.
"Remind me to never piss you off again," she muttered, checking around a corner to ensure it was clear for her and Anelisse to move. "Though on second thought it might be nice to let you loose on Gandriel."
"This Gandriel," Anelisse replied glancing around as she followed on near silent feet behind Celeste, "who is he?"
"Let's just say he's a . . . comrade," Celeste wasn't willing to go so far as the call the idiot male a friend. "He came here with me to help me find you. He's the one that freed me from the slave ship." Not to mention he almost got me killed in a tomb full of wights, she thought drily. She could explain the whole story to Anelisse later when everyone was safe.
"Well, he can't be that bad if he helped you." Anelisse responded, a hint of gratitude in her voice at the mention of Gandriel's "rescue."
"Oh, he can be." Celeste hoped the idiot male was still where she had left him against the inn, gleaning information from the noisy patrons. "But he's served his purpose."
A small breathy laugh from her sister. ". . . Is he cute at least?"
Celeste only smirked, refusing to respond.
"Killjoy," Anelisse pouted.
They fell into silence as they cleared several more tunnels, small trickles of soft conversation beginning to echo down the corridors.
Celeste cleared the corridor before motioning for Anelisse to follow.
The blonde quickly glanced to and fro made to move across the crossway in the corridor when she slammed into a tall male figure who stepped suddenly out of the shadow, her small body colliding with his.
Gandriel had been wandering these damned tunnels for what felt like hours.
He had followed Celeste's scent to an abandoned warehouse and down into the depths of this hellish labyrinth when a small pale bundle of blue slammed straight into him.
He instinctively reached out to catch the figure, a slim lithe female, her silvery hair damp and plastered to her pale neck and face. As she upturned her face she revealed large, pale silver eyes set into a delicate face, ethereally beautiful. So beautiful Gandriel had to blink twice, barely registering the rounded ears poking through her hair.
He couldn't resist the charming smile that immediately graced his lips. Pretty women were something he could do.
"Well, hello there beautiful," Gandriel supplied lazily, righting the small woman who had gone stiff in his grasp, no doubt running away from whatever slaver trash was likely pursuing her. "Don't be afraid, I'll protect you."
That beautiful face twisted in contempt though as she beheld him, recognition flaring as her eyes narrowed and she spat with venom, "You."
And, quicker than any mortal had the right to move, she kneed him square in the crotch sending blinding pain tearing through him. He nearly crumpled to the floor as she ripped herself free of his hold and dashed off around him, the remnants of her gaudy gown dragging behind her.
Gandriel turned his attention to the small woman who now stood behind him, brandishing a dagger.
"You're the bastard who helped take my sister," the girl hissed, throwing a hand out to protect the woman behind her. Blinking through the pain, Gandriel immediately recognized Celeste, who raised an eyebrow as her violet eyes lit with amusement. "I'll slit your throat for what you did-"
"Sweet, Anelisse," Celeste said, stepping around the assailant who Gandriel now registered as the missing sister, "but unnecessary. Anelisse, Gandriel." Celeste motioned between the two. "Gandriel, Anelisse."
"What is it with you women?" he ground through his teeth, the stars in his vision beginning to fade. "Couldn't you settle for punching me in the face? Or, I don't know, kicking me anywhere other than down there-"
"You're with him?" Anelisse hissed at Celeste, her eyes narrowing. "He's one of the ones who was on the boat when they took you! I saw him."
"He's also the one who got me out," she replied coolly, looking far too amused at Gandriel's crumpled form clinging to the wall. Fine, he deserved it. "And didn't I tell you to wait by the Inn?"
"If I had to hear one more fake moan," Gandriel grumbled, slowly easing away from the wall, "I was going to have to go up there and show them how it was done properly." Celeste wrinkled her nose in disgust at the comment. "So I decided I'd come help you on this little scavenger hunt. Though it seems like you found her just fine."
"No thanks to you," Anelisse snarled, her silver eyes still wary as she watched him.
He held his hands up in surrender, knowing full well that'd he'd met his match here.
"Well, pull yourself together," Celeste quipped as she turned her attention behind her, deeper into the tunnels. "We've got slaves to free."
"Oh good," Gandriel replied, trying not to look at the tiny blonde still glaring daggers through his skull, his nether region still recoiling in pain, "Things were starting to get boring after all."