Anne Bishop - Sebastian

Cursing softly when he realized he had nothing in his room and would have to go down to the dispensary, he sank into his desk chair, still rubbing his forehead.

Harland had been thrown off balance this morning. That was understandable. Given a little time to think, he would realize the necessity of going to the school and discussing the hidden garden with the Landscapers.

After all, if something had happened to break the magic that had caged the Eater and Its landscapes, everyone’s survival was at stake.

It flowed into the woods north of the city, where Its presence would be lost among other shadows.

It had learned much over the years from the human prey that had stumbled into Its landscapes—especially from the humans who were, themselves, predators. It had learned to take the shape of Its favorite before It had destroyed the sanity of the middle-aged, elegant gentleman who had enjoyed killing women so viciously.

It had learned. And now It understood that the spawn of the Dark Ones had known about the hated stone wall. They had known where the garden was hidden. They had found a way to send prey into Its landscapes, but they had never tried to free It. Caged, It had been a useful tool.

But It was not a tool to be used by the Dark Ones’ spawn. It was the Eater of the World. When It returned to the city, they would want to be Its friends.

But before It left this landscape to deal with the enemies at the school, It would show the Dark Ones’ spawn why they wanted to be Its friends.

With Teaser beside him, Sebastian strode down the Den’s main street feeling itchy, angry, ready to hunt. He was dressed for it, primed for it—the bad boy on the strut. As he studied the street, he realized how shabby everything had gotten in the past few years. The windows on the shops and taverns were grimy, the alleys smelled of piss, and the colored lights that had made him think of a carnival when he’d first come to the Den were dulled by layers of dirt. Like an old whore still trying to dress up to prove she was desirable.

But this was his home; this was his life; this was all he had and would ever have. This.

He wanted to smash things, break things, wound and rage, because somehow, after thirty years of living, this was all he deserved.

More than anything, he wanted to hurt someone.

That was when he saw the young woman creeping out of an alley, every movement shrieking of fear.

And the small something inside him that had been struggling to survive since he’d come back from Wizard City suddenly yearned for her, craved her with enough strength to knock the ugly feelings churning in him off balance for a moment. Then everything inside him focused on her. Just her.

Teaser tipped his head and studied her. “Huh. Look at that. A country mouse fresh off the farm.”

More like a rabbit who has bolted straight into a pack of wolves . Sebastian’s mouth watered at the thought.

Teaser tipped his head to the other side, considering. “Maybe not so fresh. If she smells like she looks, not even the incubi will want a taste before she’s washed up. Guess I’ll just—”

Sebastian whipped one arm out, forming a barrier in front of Teaser. “Mine.”

“On the way here, you said you wanted someone with some kick and bite. You’re not going to get much of anything from that one.”

“This one is mine.”

He approached her slowly, more a stalk than a walk, giving her time to notice him. She glanced at the alley, then back at him, unable to decide if it was safer to stay or run. She didn’t want to go back into the alley where it was dark and smelly, but if she stayed he’d be on top of her. Stay or run?

Poor, foolish little rabbit. She didn’t realize yet the decision had already been made.

He smiled at her—and put everything he was into that smile.

She didn’t smile back. She just stared at him as if he were the vilest demon she had ever seen.

Which was probably true.

“This your first visit?” he asked pleasantly.

“What?”

“Is this your first visit to the Den?” Of course it was. She wouldn’t look so bewildered if she’d been here before, but so often the hayseeds liked to pretend they weren’t as ignorant as everyone here knew they were. That pretending was one of the reasons some of them didn’t survive long enough to go home again.

“Den?”

“The Den of Iniquity.” Sebastian bared his teeth in a smile. “Not quite what you expected?”

If she was frightened before, she was terrified now. “I don’t belong here. I can’t belong here. It’s a mistake.” She looked at him, her blue eyes pleading. “Please. It’s a mistake.”

He shook his head. “No one comes to the Den by mistake. By accident, certainly, but not by mistake. You got here, which means something inside you resonated with this place.”

“No,” she whispered. “No.”

She looked ready to collapse. If he didn’t get her calmed down, she wouldn’t be any fun at all.

“My name’s Sebastian. What’s yours?”

“Lynnea.”

“Pretty name.” And the way she pronounced it—Lyn NEA —gave it a softer, richer sound.

Even exhausted and bedraggled, she was pretty in a wholesome way that made him uneasy. He could picture warming her up enough to enjoy a steaming-hot roll between the sheets—and he could picture holding her in his arms for an easy kiss and a snuggle.

That bothered him. A lot.

“Why don’t we go to Philo’s?” Sebastian said. “It’s just down the street. You look like you could use some food.”

“Oh.” She raised her hands to her light-brown hair in an automatic, feminine gesture. “Oh, I couldn’t. I’m…” Looking down at the dirty, short-sleeved tunic and ankle-length skirt, she wrinkled her nose.

“It’s an open courtyard. You’ll be fine.” He held out a hand. She shrank away from it, which made him angry, but he kept an easy smile on his face. Before he was finished with her, she would beg him to put his hands on her and have her in any way he wanted.

As he let that thought fill him, the something inside him that was struggling against the ugly feelings withered.

“Come on,” he said. He shifted just enough to block any attempt she might make to rabbit back down the alley. Seeing no choice, she eased away from the wall and walked down the street, with him a half step behind her so that he could catch her if she tried to bolt.

With this strange mood riding him, he wasn’t sure what he’d do to her if she tried to get away from him.

By the time he herded her to Philo’s, Teaser was already there, doing a live performance with a succubus. The handful of statues scattered among the tables in the courtyard were all sexually explicit and painted with such detail it took careful study to be sure they weren’t real. There were also two small platforms for the “live art.”

At the moment, Teaser and the succubus were holding a pose. His shirt was open and tugged off his shoulders; his hands were on her hips. One of her legs hooked around his waist, her back was arched, and one hand reached for the zipper of his leather trousers. In a few seconds they would follow through on the moves before striking another pose.

“Those statues look so real,” Lynnea said, her eyes wide. “But…what are they doing?”

Figuring it was better not to shock the little rabbit too much, he guided her to the only available table and pulled out a chair for her that put her back to Teaser’s performance.

Philo bustled up to their table, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to the elbows in a concession to the warm summer night. His smile of welcome faltered when he looked at Lynnea, and when he turned to Sebastian there was a bleakness in his dark eyes that was too much like Teaser’s expression back at the cottage.