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Authors: Marcus Atley

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BOOK: Spellbound
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“Your name is Elion. You’re a kid and you have some childhood dream to play cops and robbers,” Stavros said plainly.

“I’m not a kid. I’m six years younger than you, and you know nothing of my childhood dreams. I know plenty about you, though.”

“Is that so?” Stavros asked, a hint of dark amusement in his tone. Elion turned to face him.

“It is,” was all he replied. He could feel the irritation pouring off his partner and it left him fighting back a smirk. It was childish, really, to act just as smug as Stavros, but he had a feeling that their partnership was going to be strained at best either way.

 

Chapter 3

Elion was doing his best to breathe as he ran. Beads of sweat ran from his hairline and dripped from his chin, stinging his eyes and souring his lips in the process. The badge around his neck had hit him in the face too many times to count
and he couldn’t help but picture Stavros’ smug face. He
had told Elion it would only get in the way, but protocol said…

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” he groaned as he watched their suspect climb over yet another fence. How had he never noticed that this town had so many damn fences? Sucking in a deep breath, he took off once more, shoving off the ground to pull himself over the fence. The tip of his shoe caught and threatened to send him falling over before he could get a firm hold on anything.

“Dude, just stop!” Elion whined when he landed on his feet, panting and miserable, and realized Stavros had the teenager cornered. The boy’s half-shifted form revealed he was a very skittish leopard. His blazing bright eyes darted back and forth and his sharp nails curled and uncurled into his palms. Before he could try and talk any sense into the kid, Stavros had him by the scruff of his neck and was shoving him onto the damp, hard ground.

“You shift and I’ll rip your tail off, got it?” A pair of cuffs sealed loudly as the restraining magic curled around the feline’s wrists. He didn’t say a word as he was roughly hauled to his feet. Stavros shot Elion a vicious look before vanishing from sight. Elion rolled his eyes, took another deep breath to slow his pounding heart, and followed.

“What’d this one do?” a guard asked while Elion signed the file in his hand.

“Shoplifting from the market,” he muttered. The kid had taken a few loose crystals from a healer’s stall. He hadn’t hurt anyone or even attempted to, yet Stavros was tossing him around like he was a murderer.

When he threw the kid into the cell, making him stumble against the wall, Elion decided it was enough. He handed the file to the guard and followed Stavros out of the holding area with a clenched jaw and bubbling anger. Once they hit the quiet hallway, he grabbed Stavros
by his shoulder.

Stavros whipped around with such bloodlust on his face
that Elion almost staggered back. He ignored the way Stavros’ eyes had become shadow filled pools and the fangs behind his lips.

“What the hell was that, Stavros? He’s just a kid!” Elion barked.

Stavros stalked forward, forcing Elion back until he hit the wall. The anger oozing off of him made it hard to breathe, but Elion refused to falter. Large hands boxed him in on either side. If it weren’t for the fact that Stavros could rip his head off in a heartbeat, it would have been erotic.

“Do you ever just shut up?” Stavros hissed through clenched teeth.

“I get that you’re pissed off about street patrol, but it was your fault. Not mine,” Elion snapped back. He knew it was useless to try and shove Stavros away, but it didn’t stop him from doing it anyway. As he suspected, the larger man didn’t budge an inch. Stavros’ eyes narrowed and he leaned in close enough that their noses were almost touching, daring Elion to try something so stupid again.

“Get off me,” Elion said. “Stavros…”

The blackness that filled the cambion’s eyes receded and his brow furrowed tightly. “Get those files done,” he ordered, before ripping himself back and storming off.

Elion slumped against the wall. His body ached and his temples throbbed. He wanted nothing more than a hot shower and his bed, but it wouldn’t happen; all because of his loud mouth. It wasn’t Stavros’ fault completely. He should have just kept his mouth shut, but no. He had to antagonize.

Mikhail had ignored their idiocy for weeks. Elion and Stavros made snide comments back and forth until they were actually speaking to each other. If that’s what it could be called. It was more of Stavros threatening to rip Elion’s throat out while Elion smirked tauntingly. Doors were slammed and pens were snapped while one or the other tried to bite their tongue. The fights were over absolutely nothing of any merit either. A file here or a question about something work related there.

Halfway through the second month, Stavros lost it. He ended up grabbing an officer by the collar of his shirt and throwing him against the wall for asking if Stavros had signed his statement for a waiting case. When Elion intervened, chaos erupted. Stavros shoved him, so Elion shoved back, physically and verbally.

By the time Mikhail appeared, three desks had been flipped and splintered and papers were scattered in every direction. Stavros was ready for bloodshed and Mikhail had to all but sedate him to pull him back. Their punishment was a month of street patrol. They were only two weeks in and Elion wasn’t sure if they would make it to the end.

Stavros didn’t belong on the streets of Hesian. Stavros belonged in the wild with the other feral creatures. Walking the streets and chasing down shoplifting teenagers was probably the cruelest punishment that could be placed on the cambion.

Elion didn’t mind it much. He liked conversing with the street vendors and the citizens in passing. He enjoyed window shopping in the market and munching on fresh treats during patrol. The realm was a cornucopia of different cultures and beings. In the market that made up the center of the town one could find just about anything, from anywhere, if they looked hard enough. There were healers and seers; artists, bakers and antique dealers. Some stalls boasted their selection of human trinkets while others carried rare herbs and crystals. The crime rate was fairly low and there was never a reason for someone to say they were bored. Besides shopping, there were bars and a few clubs that kept the rest of the crowds entertained. Outside of the city was a plethora of wilderness that would take centuries to tap.

Elion rubbed his aching temples with a firm pressure, desperate for relief. Just as he was getting ready to push off the wall and go to their office, his cell phone rang.

Ten minutes later he was sitting in a dimly lit questioning room with the teenage shifter and his parents. The teary-eyed mother sat next to him with a crumpled tissue in her hand while the father ground his teeth and glared at his son.

“So, what you’re telling me is that you stole the merchandise because of a dare?” Elion asked tiredly. The teenager nodded, his chin aimed at his chest in shame. “Why did you run?”

“I’ve never been in trouble before,” he replied nervously. “Plus, that crazy bastard was going to kill me.”

Elion wished he could say that was untrue, but he wasn’t so sure himself. Stavros was pretty damn angry when the kid ran. He shouted that he was going to rip the little bastard’s throat out, making mothers grab their children and vendors stop in their tracks.

The boy swallowed hard when Elion scowled. “That
crazy bastard
is a ranked officer, show a little respect.” Elion sighed and laced his fingers on top of the table. “Look, I was your age once. I know what it’s like to want to fit in, but breaking the law isn’t going to help you. Trust me, you don’t want to end up in jail with murderers and rapists all because someone doesn’t like you as you are. I’m willing to put in a good word if you promise to keep your nose clean.”

When the kid nodded eagerly, Elion breathed a silent sigh of relief.  “Alright, I’ll let your parents take you home now. The next time I see you here things are going to be much different, got it?” The teenager nodded once more as Elion stood up. “What was the dare, anyway?”

“My girlfriend said if I got them without getting caught, she’d give me a blowjob,” he said with a shrug. Elion’s headache intensified as the wailing parents led their child out.

~~

The office was empty, save for a few cleaners and officers on the night shift, when Elion finished his last file. His headache had died down only for his stomach to begin growling. He sighed tiredly and tossed the last folder onto the stack before grabbing his jacket.

Stavros hadn’t come back since their incident in the hallway. He wasn’t even sure if the man was in the building at all. By the way everyone seemed to be breathing freely, Elion guessed he had left. He gave a nod to those who told him goodnight and stepped into the eerily quiet street.

He wasn’t sure where he was going, but food was a priority either way. He walked through a crowd on the west end of town; what he was learning was the most active district of Hesian. He knew it would be crowded and loud for several hours yet. Once the clubs shut down everyone would drag themselves back home to sleep off their hangovers, or take their walk of shame from a stranger’s bed, but any trouble that came from it wouldn’t be his problem until morning.

He quickly found himself in a part of town he hadn’t frequented yet since taking up residence in Hesian. It was silent except for a few nocturnal birds calling out from the roofs of surrounding buildings. This section of town seemed old and outdated. Most of the brick and stone buildings were in need of repair and the street was old, broken cobblestone. The narrow street ended with a quaint bar. There were no windows, but he could faintly hear the sound of music from inside. He pulled open the heavy wooden door and was hit with the scent of strong ale and smoke.

There were only a few patrons inside; mostly older beings keeping to themselves as they sipped their drinks. An almost mousy voice called out a greeting from the opposite end of the bar as he took a seat. A curvaceous woman in a low cut blouse, cut off jean shorts, and pigtails appeared only seconds later. A witch, if Elion had to guess quickly. She popped a large bubble with her gum and studied him thoroughly with lavender eyes
.

“Well, haven’t seen you here before,” she hummed. “Name’s Lolita. What can I get ya, honey?”

“Your best whiskey, please.” He forced a smile in return. It dropped the second she turned away.

He downed the first glass without hesitation. He was never really one for drinking, but after the past few weeks, he deserved it. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to smack or kiss Stavros. Both would be preferable, and that pissed him off.

It was both pathetic and insane for him to somehow form a low leveled crush on the man. Stavros was arrogant, dangerous, and just rude. That didn’t stop him from somehow drawing Elion in. He tried to convince himself that it was just the cambion’s charm, that it wasn’t real emotion. He needed a good, well-balanced meal and a solid night’s sleep and everything would be fine. And if he was wrong, well, he wasn’t quite sure.

He had wanted the job. He wanted to be partnered with Stavros from the moment he entered the academy. Of course, the reasons for that were now far out of sight thanks to their constant arguing. They hadn’t taken one real case yet. Sure, they had locked up a bunch of idiots for robbery or assault, along with a few loud drunks, but that was it. He didn’t want to chase down petty thieves and then spend hours filling out paperwork. He wasn’t a patrol officer; he was a detective. He wanted a case that he would study for hours, days, maybe weeks and then end up hunting the guilty party across the realms until he was throwing them into a cell and heading out to grab himself a celebratory beer. It wasn’t about popularity or wanting to brag. He wanted the action and experience. He wanted to right wrongs. Of course, he wouldn’t say that out loud. Stavros would only point out how childish it was.

He groaned into his hands after finishing off his second drink. The whiskey burned his gut and warmed his blood enough to make him flushed. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked around for the bartender. He spotted her on the far end of the bar with one hand on a hip while the other tried to pull a glass away from a patron. It was obvious that she was displeased, but her voice was too quiet for him to hear.

She threw her hands up in defeat and began scolding loudly. A glass was shoved forward and shattered on the floor and Elion rose from the stool with a groan. He was exhausted, but he wasn’t going to ignore some drunken asshole giving the lady a hard time. When he reached the end a dry chuckle bubbled from his throat.

“Why am I not surprised?” Stavros turned his head on a weak neck to glare at his partner. His eyes were bloodshot and heavy and it smelled like he had downed half the bar’s stock.

“Lita, did you call this fucking kid?” Stavros demanded. Lolita arched a manicured brow and smirked.

“This is Elion, isn’t it? I’ll be damned, he’s a cutie.”

“Shut up,” Stavros slurred angrily. Elion swatted him upside the head and Stavros looked at him wide-eyed.

“You don’t tell a lady to shut up. Even you can’t be that much of an asshole,” he said, arms folded over his chest.
“Let’s go. I’ll take you home.”

Stavros shoved Elion back the second his hands landed on him. He grabbed for the almost empty cup on the bar only for Lolita to pull it away and shake her head.

“You’ve been here since this afternoon, darlin’. Time to sleep it off.”

BOOK: Spellbound
7.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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