The Ravenous Dark, page 24
"How is that healing?"
"Turns out, supernatural or not, when you get a chunk taken out of you by some psychopath, it takes considerably longer to heal."
"Will it scar?
Bailey shrugged, unbothered. "Probably."
Stella's throat bobbed as she turned her gaze elsewhere. "Hey, Bailey?"
"Yeah?"
"Was I as bad as I think I was?" Stella's eyes swiveled back in time to catch the tail-end of Bailey's cringe and then groaned.
"You'll get better with practice," Bailey promised. "We'll get together four times a week if we have to."
Stella's eyes widened comically, as she shook her head. "Two."
"Three," Bailey countered firmly. "You need it, especially since you aren't under contract yet."
"Fine." The word was a grumbled, husky mess, and Stella rubbed her throat as she sat up straighter.
"River made you something for that. You'll want to take it before we go into what I have planned next." Stella frowned as Bailey popped up to her feet and went to the wall where a small duffel bag lay. After rummaging through its contents, she trotted back and offered Stella a flask.
"A potion?" Stella perked up for the first time since they entered the training room, sitting up straight. She screwed off its top and sniffed the contents tentatively. "It smells like peaches," she said with surprise alighting her eyes.
"River's on a magical break, no spell casting allowed, but she can still whip up a potion. This should help with your vocal cords." Stella tipped the contents into her mouth, a gentle noise of appreciation sounding from her after the first swallow. Bailey smiled, though confusion tinged her voice as she next spoke. "I'm surprised you haven't found anything to help with your throat before."
Stella licked her lips as she screwed the top back on. "Everything always ends up losing its effect after a while, since I have to take things so frequently."
Bailey frowned. "I'm sorry about that."
Stella offered a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's just one of the many perks of being a banshee."
"Yeah, well, I'm also sorry I couldn't get Ronan to meet with you before we got together. He's been difficult to pin down recently." Bailey's chest tightened uncomfortably. He was impossible to pin down, and it was low-key driving her insane. Five nights without contact; five full nights.
Bailey was no longer sure if her anxiety and growing aggravation came from the soulmarks drive to complete their binding or her desire to see Ronan and make amends.
Hell, she was ready to grovel at this point, as long as she could be in the same room as him.
"Oh, I did see him." Stella's blasé admission made her stiffen.
"When?" Stella's eyebrows shot up at Bailey's curt address. She cleared her throat and asked again; though her words weren't as sharp-edged, the edginess behind them couldn't be hidden.
"Yesterday. We went over a bunch of banshee lore." Stella smiled and directed her gaze to her lap, where her fingers played idly with the hem of her shirt. Her voice was cool and sweet, thanks to River's potion. "We started with all the ways a banshee can foretell death. My Aunt Claire was able to sing instead of scream."
"Irina told me your aunt foretold her death with a song. Irina said it was the saddest and most beautifully haunting thing she'd ever heard."
"Really?"
Bailey nodded and helped Stella to her feet. "That's something I want to work on with you." Stella's smile dimmed, and she offered a short nod of reluctant agreement. Her reaction confused Bailey, but she decided not to comment on it. "What else did you talk about?"
Me? She hoped recklessly.
"He claimed banshees are descendants of fairy queens driven underground, though I doubt it. I'm pretty sure fairies are supposed to do nature-y things, not wail at people to let them know they're about to kick the bucket."
"Anything else?"
Some color entered Stella's cheeks. "He brought up being able to weaponize my scream…." Stella averted her gaze. "Kind of like what I did at the opera house," she finished in a whisper. "He said I could damage people's eardrums or blast people back. He said my voice might even have the potential to kill people with enough concentration and precision." Her features twisted as she recalled their talk. "He explained that it had something to do with creating air embolisms and proximity."
Bailey's eyes grew wider with each word, then let out a low whistle. "Damn, Stella. People around here would show you a lot more respect if they knew you could kill them with your voice alone."
Stella rolled her eyes. "Doubtful. Half the court already believes my scream is death itself, rather than the predecessor to it."
"Well, regardless, I'm glad he brought up that last one." A small knot furrows between Stella's eyes. "I wanted to work on that next. I even brought earplugs!"
The banshee groaned as Bailey retrieved her earplugs. She wore her reluctance like a second skin.
"I don't know if I can do it again. The opera was the first time that I ever used my voice like that."
"If you did it once, you can do it again," Bailey cajoled. "I'm going to set up a few targets for you to work on your aim. Go stand where we were practicing before."
"Is this necessary?" Stella bemoaned, shuffling toward the spot as Bailey directed. "Maybe we can save it for the next lesson?"
Bailey didn't respond right away, moving two standing punching bags over to their area. Set to her liking after a few adjustments, she turned to Stella and saw her arms folded defensively over her chest. Bailey mirrored her.
"What's the problem?"
Her stiff shoulders rose and fell. "I don't know. I guess I'm nervous about how people will treat me once I expand my power." Her expression soured. "They don't exactly like me now."
Bailey trotted back to her and planted both hands on her shoulders. With a soft smile, she delivered a gentle squeeze and the truth. "They're probably not going to like you much after."
Stella choked out a laugh at the same time as Bailey. Then her shoulders sank.
"Don't worry, by the time word gets out, you'll be a pro with your supersonic scream."
"Promise?" she questioned weakly, hope filtering into her voice.
"I promise." Bailey moved to stand behind Stella. "Now tell me, when you busted out that scream, what did you feel?"
Stella shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I guess defensive and… angry."
A smirk flew onto Bailey's lips. "I can work with that. If I remember correctly, you had your hands out like this." Bailey's hands guided Stella's arms up as her friend nodded.
Bailey backed away as Stella slipped a foot back to rest her weight on. She held her arms out, palms facing toward the targets. Bailey raised an eyebrow.
"Look at you, Ms. I-can-ground-myself." Stella sent her a grin over her shoulder. "I want you to hold that position and channel some of that defensiveness you felt before."
"Not the anger?"
Bailey shook her head, hands resting on her hips. "Anger’s not a reliable emotion. Learning to fight when I was younger, it was easier to channel my anger to get an edge over my competition, but I was always so much more drained after. It's better to fight smart and defensively. Your energy will last longer, and you'll stay more levelheaded when things get intense."
Stella nodded. Bailey shuffled a little closer, enough to glimpse Stella's profile. Her face contorted in concentration.
"Summon that need to defend and protect when you saw the Shadowmancer and—"
There was no chance for Bailey to finish, let alone stuff her earplugs into place before Stella took the initiative and let her voice carve through the air. The punching bags wobbled. Stella's sonic scream ripped through the space between them in almost visible sound waves before coming to an abrupt stop.
A moment of pure silence resounded before Stella spun to face Bailey. A hand was clamped over her mouth. Tears shone in her eyes.
"And here you thought you wouldn't be able to do it." Bailey's hands were smashed over her ears, a smile trying to break through her grimace.
Stella released a stifled cry, full of relief, and threw her arms around Bailey.
"I did it," she cried against her neck, shoulders shaking as Bailey wrapped her arms around her. "I can't believe I did it."
Bailey laughed and patted her on the back. "Fuck yeah, you did. On your first try too. You had no reason to worry." She gently steered Stella back. The younger woman wiped at her cheeks, a shaky smile on her lips.
"Let's try once more, but this time try aiming your voice at one of the punching bags." Stella turned sharply on the balls of her feet, arms already stretching out when Bailey halted her. "Wait! Let me at least get my earplugs in."
A furious blush crossed Stella's cheeks as she followed Bailey's retreat. "I'm so sorry, Bailey. I wasn't even thinking. I was just—"
"It's fine," Bailey chuckled. "I'm just as excited as you that you got it on your first try. Just think, once you're solid on your self-defense, we can incorporate your sonic scream into some of those moves."
Genuine excitement made Stella's skin flush with pleasure as a shy smile lingered on her face. "That would be pretty cool."
"Pretty badass, you mean. Now, this next time, I want you to try moving your arms and hips with your scream." Bailey matched Stella's stance and then placed her palms near her chest. Stella mimicked her studiously. When Bailey thrust her palms forward, hips shifting naturally with the movement, Stella did the same. "Perfect!" Bailey popped her earplugs in. "Now try doing that motion with your scream. Aim at the left one."
Stella practiced the movement a few times before settling into her starting stance. Nervous excitement radiated from her. Bailey smiled broadly at her back and covered her ears for good measure.
She couldn't help but feel a sense of purpose and joy as Stella gained some more much-needed confidence.
Gods, it feels good to do something right for a change.
Bailey flinched as Stella released her sonic scream, her hands and hips moving in sync with the vocal cannon she unleashed. The punching bag nearly toppled to the floor before wobbling side to side as Stella's scream subsided.
Breathless, Stella turned to Bailey. Her smile was bright and tired. "Did you see that?"
Bailey returned her smile with one of her own. She took out her earplugs. "Hell yeah, I—"
A slow clap broke into Bailey's reply.
Both women shifted their startled gazes toward the source of the noise. Leaning up against the locker room's open archway entrance was one of the most handsome men Bailey had ever seen. Apparently, being sealed didn’t mean she couldn’t still appreciate the eye candy at court.
The man was tall and lean, with a downright sinful smile and gleaming chestnut eyes. Of course, his fine physique and full lips couldn't quite distract from the coy peek of horns from the sides of his head. He tipped his head in greeting before prowling forward.
"Well, I'll be certain never to get on the banshee's bad side," the demon drawled in a polished English accent. He stopped at the edge of the mat several feet away from them.
Bailey reached Stella's sides in two quick strides.
"Her name is Stella," Bailey barked, crossing her arms. "And you're damn right you shouldn't get on her bad side."
The demon held up his gloved hands in surrender, though the smirk playing on his lips only grew. "My apologies. I only meant my words as a compliment." His smirk inched higher. "Stella, please accept my most humble apologies."
Stella may or may not have released a small eep at the distinct purr his voice took on as he annunciated her name.
"Apology ac-accepted," she managed to sputter out.
The demon bowed extravagantly before stepping onto the mat. He wore black trainers and loose-fitting sweatpants. His top, a sleeveless hooded creation, looked worn and threadbare.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Raphael." Bailey kept her expression blank as his eyes traveled between the two of them. "Of course, you fine ladies need no introduction. Stella," he purred her name again. "And our resident she-wolf, Bailey Hart."
"Where are your demon friends? I thought your kind liked to travel in little gangs so you always have someone to stroke your…” Bailey eyed his horns. “Egos,” she finished with a heavy dose of snark.
Raphael's smug smirk lost some of its fine-tuned edge. He gave a lackluster jazz hands performance, waving hands and fingers in the air dully. Bailey eyed the black leather encasing them before he placed them out of sight again behind his back.
"Some do, but alas, not I." His lips stretched thin as his expression held tautly. "I'm what you might call a misfit among my kind."
Stella cleared her throat when Bailey said nothing.
"Why?"
Raphael straightened. The movement was stiff. "My influence isn't quite like the other demons," he said tightly, his smirk dropping altogether as he brandished a hand again for them. "Their manipulation is restricted to a certain distance between themselves and their targets. If you are far enough away, their influence cannot reach you."
"Don’t forget about the weird hypnosis shit they pull when you make eye contact with them,” Bailey added.
Raphael's smirk tugged back onto his lips as his posture relaxed somewhat. He neither affirmed nor denied her addition, merely held Bailey's gaze. Though a zing of attraction ran through her, nothing more insidious pulled at her. "I, on the other hand, cannot."
"You can't?" Stella's question was somewhat breathless and belayed her curiosity far too much for Bailey's liking. Raphael shook his head. The thick thatch of hair on his head swayed effortlessly with the movement. He combed back what fell on his face.
"No. My influence is strictly relegated to my touch. Though I'm told I have a way with words."
"Is that the only difference?"
Raphael and Bailey locked eyes again. Heat swirled in her stomach, but not of the supernatural variety. "My touch can be more intense than that of my brethren. Some say it's to die for."
Bailey rolled her eyes. Raphael chuckled and then proceeded to peel off his shirt. A smattering of runes covered his torso. Stella gasped at the sight of them and shuffled back. Raphael cocked a brow and took a step toward the punching bags.
"Will you be using these much longer?"
After waiting a beat when Stella didn't immediately respond, Bailey shook her head. "Go ahead, though I wouldn't recommend practicing whatever you're about to in those gloves you have on."
"Your concern is duly noted."
Bailey scowled. "I'm not concerned."
"Noted again," he said innocently, brown eyes gleaming. "However, you may be pleased to know I'll be wrapping my hands with these." He took two cloth rolls from his pocket, commonly used for boxing.
Bailey's lips twitched traitorously. "Noted," she said wryly with another eye roll. "I'm sure the punching bag will appreciate being spared from your ungodly touch."
"Only for a time. Despite being a misfit among my kind, others tend to tolerate my presence more easily, knowing I'm not manipulating their emotions. Or, at least knowing explicitly when I am."
"Who are you sparring with?"
Raphael straightened, his chest puffing out slightly. "Only the foremost female fighter at court."
Bailey rested a hand on Stella's back, urging her in the direction of the locker room. "Enjoy getting your ass kicked then."
Raphael tipped his head at them in parting. A dark chuckle rumbled out of him. He pushed back his dark hair again. "You as well. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and Stella, might I say your voice is positively mesmerizing. Though, I hope you'll take no offense when I say I hope to never be on the wrong end of it."
Stella's mouth opened, then closed without a word, before she escaped to the locker room. Bailey waved goodbye awkwardly before jogging after her, scooping up her duffel along the way.
"Not a fan of demons, huh?"
Stella was at her locker and already out of her sweaty shirt. She snatched a towel from her locker, almost knocking her knuckles against the metal door in the process.
Bailey eyed her jerky movements with concern. "You all right?"
Stella released a shaky breath, meeting Bailey's eye reluctantly. Her mouth opened, then snapped shut as she mulled over the words she wanted to say. "Have you spoken with Jakob or Irina yet? About hiring me?"
Bailey paused halfway, opening her locker. The metal was pleasantly cool to the touch. "I have. On the full moon, I spoke to Irina."
"And?" Barely restrained hope lined every part of Stella's body. Voice included.
"Irina said she would talk about it with Jakob, but it may be a while before they come to any concrete decision. They're busy with politics and stuff."
Stella's eyes fluttered closed briefly before she set her warm regard upon Bailey. "Thank you for doing that."
"What are friends for?" Bailey said. "Are you still getting invitations from other households?"
"A couple here and there, but I've thrown them all away. The last one I got was for the Krovopuskovs." She shivered visibly. Bailey kept her expression neutral, the image of Luka's fallen body taking center stage in her mind's eye.
"Is there anyone outside the Vranas that you might be willing to consider?"
Stella hugged her towel to her chest. "The pool I'm considering is limited, and if I can't get the protection I want or need… I don't know if I can stay." Bailey leaned back in shock. Stella's expression mirrored the turmoil that raged inside her. "Except I can't stand the thought of sending in another girl from my family when I've only been here a little over two years. My family really relies on this money," she lamented, her gaze distant as she stared into her locker as if it had the answers she sought. Or rather, the invitation. "Holding this position at court is revered in my family. When I go back, I'll be in line to be matriarch one day."
"I had no idea."
Silence fell around them as Stella turned her attention back to the contents of her locker. Bailey stood stiffly, not knowing what else to say.
"Well," Stella said, still not meeting her eye. "Thanks for tonight. I appreciate you taking the time to help me. Can we train again together soon?"
"Of course," Bailey responded in an instant. A genuine smile lit up the she-wolf's face as she managed to catch Stella's eye. "Let's meet in two nights, okay? Take a hot shower tonight, and just relax."
