© 2017 SilverStream22. All Rights Reserved.  

~

  Your touch, your skin, where do I begin?

No words can explain, the way I'm missing you

Deny this emptiness, this hole that I'm inside  

~

"Teleportation isn't a wise use of my powers." Kristos sighed. "Especially since I'm still suffering for my actions for letting you tap into my power reserves from several years ago."

"Please?" Kendra clenched her fist. "You're the only I know we can go to without risk. You're no longer the Vasilakis' butler, so we won't be putting them in danger. We need a base for us to plan our next move, and I'd rather not do it on the run. Your presence alone will be enough to make these creatures of the Underworld wary to approach. A reaper of your...magnitude is very beneficial for us."

Kristos dragged a hand down his face. "Alright. Where are you?"

"I'm on the outskirts of the Sicilian Anosova residence." Kendra prompted. "Please come fast."

The gravity defying waterfall cut short and Kendra collapsed. Tempest and I caught her by her arms. 

"Goddess," Tempest muttered. "She's burning."

I noticed the bead of sweat along the back of his neck. "So are you. Which is...strange. Because I don't feel burned out at all."

Kristos flashed above us, landing on one knee in front of Kendra. He tucked his shoulder into her stomach, lifting up to toss her over his shoulder. "Hold onto me tight."

I fisted the fabric of Kristos' white shirt as we spiralled into nothingness.

The black hole feeling was repeated as we stumbled out into a mansion. 

"Welcome to my house." Kristos muttered. 

He didn't really sound that happy about it. 

"Is Kendra going to be okay?" I asked, reaching forward to touch her cheek. 

Kristos laid her across the couch in front of the burning stone fireplace. "She needs time to recover. Being around that much miasma can be very difficult to stifle, especially for a hybrid like her. She has no Underworld blood running in her, and with the instability of her sister's power, it becomes hard to maintain focus."

He straightened and then pointed behind me. "Your wolf boy is about to collapse as well."

As if on cue, Tempest staggered. I caught him around the waist. Bracing my weight on my calves, I was able to support him enough to hobble over to a parallel couch. 

Kristos clucked his tongue. "Just like Kendra, pushing his limits. He knows that his power is dangerous yet uses it anyways."

I cradled the back of his neck before slipping a decorative pillow underneath it. 

Kristos cupped his jaw. "Okay. Come. I need your help. We need to fix these two up."

I followed him wordlessly, trying to take note of everything he did. The most I knew from Kristos is that he aided my parents in the war, had a gaping hole in his stomach that wasn't bleeding or even scabbed, and he felt fiercely for Kendra.

"So why aren't you the Vasilakis' butler anymore?" I inquired, studying the subtle flinch he made as we entered the kitchen.

He pulled out several herbs and a mortar and pestel before answering. "A while back, I had helped bring Faye, Jazz and Draver back from Asgard. Kendra was able to tap into my power reserves, which are usually blocked off when assigned to a family. I was shocked that it had worked, and later realized that the shock was warranted because Kendra had actually broken past the seal placed by Grimm. As a punishment, Grimm removed me from the Vasilakis family. It's kind of like a contract we make with each family, and the restriction of our power reserves has to do with us not purposefully killing our assigned family to harvest our souls. Since I'm specifically a servant Reaper, I have to be tied to a family to feed off of. Without them, I slowly die. Grimm wants me to face repercussions for my actions, so in addition to that, I have to repent for a few years by not using my powers."

"Which you just did."

He laughed mirthlessly. "Yes. But for Kendra? I'd suffer a thousand times over just to make her happy."

I smiled softly. "That reminds me of my parents. Stark is like you. He'd rather put himself through hell than risk Mom being upset. Though that's usually because Mom would be the one to put him through hell if he ever made her upset."

Kristos chuckled, but then sobered up quickly. "Now ask me that burning question of yours."

He passed me the mortar and pestel to bash the herbs, as if he was passing a baton in a relay race and now it was my turn to run my mouth. 

I half-heartedly bashed the herbs. "Why didn't I feel the effects of the miasma? I could tell that it was present, but it didn't put me down like Kendra and Tempest."

He crossed his arms. "You already know the answer."

I set down the pestel. "No games."

His eyes hardened. "I promise you, Lux. This is far from a game."

"Aghh!" Kendra's groan drew both of our attentions.

He flung open the door of the fridge, pulling out lemon juice. "Pour about a table spoon, then bring it over."

He left me, taking several steps over to Kendra. I noticed the way he lifted her hand between his two, pressing his lips to her palm.

I completed the paste and snatched up a spoon, meeting Kristos in front of the fireplace.

"Hey beautiful." he murmured, lifting the spoon up with the herb paste. He pressed it against her lips but she refused.

In a flash, he pinched her nose. She gasped and he shoved the spoon in. His other hand clamped onto her jaw. "Swallow."

She weakly hit his arm before her throat bobbed. He sighed in relief, removing the spoon. Kristos handed it to me, turning back to face Kendra.

She struck him with the back of her hand, his neck snapping back. 

"That tastes disgusting." she spat.

He grinned. "Glad you have enough strength to be sassy."

Kendra glanced at Tempest. "Maybe give him some. He looks dead."

I nodded and stood up, rinsing the spoon in the kitchen sink before returning.

Tempest was knocked out cold, not even borderline conscious like Kendra was.

"How do I give it to him?" I muttered, poking his cheek in an attempt to wake him up. 

Kendra wiggled her right hand.

My eyes widened. "Hell no. I'll die. He'll kill me. Plus his face is like steel, my hand will break."

"You could always bite him." Kendra suggested as she sat up. "Maybe that'll shock him enough to wake him up."

Kristos laughed, gently pushing her back down. "Oh no no no. That's not happening. You'll be laying down until noon tomorrow."

I turned to Tempest. His dark brown, almost black hair, was messy and tousled. His eyelashes were really long. 

"Okay but how am I supposed to give it to him." I asked again, hoping for a serious answer.

Kristos crossed his arms. "Mouth to mouth?"

I reeled back. "I just met his guy today. No! I'll just wait until he's conscious."

He shook his head. "Administer it any later and it'll take him longer to heal. The quicker you give it to him, the quicker we'll be on our way."

"We?" I turned around abruptly. "You're coming with us?"

He nodded, glancing over his shoulder at Kendra, who dozed off. "There's no way I'm letting her be in anymore danger than necessary."

I admired his devotion to Kendra. It was strange to see, because the most emotion I ever saw from the butlers was along the lines of Evgeny's morbid comedy with babushka.

"I think I'll punch him awake. His future mate would be very upset if she found out that he'd kissed another girl."

With that, I reared my fist back and pummeled it straight into his side. 

He yelped like a girl, his hand flying to his side as he jerked up. 

"What the hell was that for?" he snarled. "I can't take a damn nap without you punching me?"

I paused, blinking. "Nap? I thought you were unconscious! I poked your cheek!"

He growled low. "I'm a heavy sleeper."

I grimaced. "I'm very sorry. I was under pressure. Here, have this. It's to get you better."

Tempest scowled when he saw the green mush. "Fuck, I hate this."

He swallowed the herbs, shuddering. His face looked like when dogs lick lemons.

Rolling on his side facing away from me, he fell back into his nap.

Kristos tilted his head towards the kitchen. 

I followed him, watching as he rinsed the mortar and pestle. 

"So it's because I'm a quarter vampire. Because of my dad?" I murmured.

He nodded. "All Underworld creatures have some level to immunity to the miasma. For someone like me, a Reaper, the miasma is as clear as this air."

"So vampires, demons, devils, reapers, all those Underworld creatures have some sort of immunity to the miasma?" 

Kristos smiled. "Now you're getting it."

"But I've never felt like any urges to drink blood like Stark. Or to do any of the tendencies that are normally associated with vampires. I don't get thirsty when someone cuts their hand, or feel uncomfortable in super bright light."

He shrugged. "You don't have to. You're only a quarter vampire. A lot of those urges are diluted in your bloodline. You're more wolf than vampire. But from what Evgeny has told me about you, apparently when you fight you become different. All parts of you need to be sated, wolf and vampire. You may not need blood to live, but your craving for it might not be consumption. Have you ever wondered why your bloodlust is so intense? Evgeny says that when you fight, you look like an avenging angel."

A small smile flickered across my face. "I get that a lot."

"Let me ask you this: Do you ever feel like the urge to pass out retribution? Werewolves are known to be forgiving and merciful, it's part of the pack dynamics. But most vampires only know vengeance and retribution. Like Orion for example. He came after your mother in place of Stark's old mate, Kathleen. Orion was trying to court her, but she chose to be with Stark. Orion felt betrayed and tried to get revenge."

Kristos was making a lot of sense. 

"I have something to confess." I blurted. "When I did the ceremony, my blood was boiling, and I felt so much anger and pain. It was like I wanted to punish those werewolves. And when I tried to force Lycanthropy on Trinity, it backfired and burned us both. What if that's my vampire side interfering with my werewolf nature?"

Kristos opened the fridge, pulling out a juice box. "It's possible. Stark struggled trying to maintain his werewolf and vampire urges. In the first place, Stark already had an intense bloodlust when he was a Lycan. Becoming a vampire only heightened it. He countered that by drinking Katya's blood."

He offered me a juice box and I gratefully accepted it. The refreshing apple flavor seemed to rinse all the sawdust in my mouth. 

"So does that mean I should sate my vampire side? Then maybe I can turn a werewolf into a Lycan?"

He grinned. "Something tells me it won't be as simple as that."

"Right. Who am I even supposed drink from?" 

Kristos looked slightly annoyed. "Seriously? Go drink from that Storm Prince, sure he's willing."

I narrowed my eyes. "Storm Prince?"

"That's what a lot of the Royals call him. He's extremely powerful. His manipulation of the weather is something he's sought out for."

"Yeah, he made a fog appear out of nowhere and then manipulated a personal thunderstorm for that thing that was hunting us." I glanced past the open kitchen to see his breathing form. "He's one heck of a Lycan."

I heard Kristos' breath hitch.

I turned and looked at him in alarm. "What's wrong?"

A wry smile twisted on his lips. "Oh this is very interesting."

I hated not knowing things. "What? What's interesting?"

"Nothing!" he sang. "Now, you should get some rest. I'll be taking Kendra up to my room. I'll teleport the Storm Prince to his own room. Follow me."

I watched as he hauled up Kendra bridal style. Her head naturally found the crook of his neck, the curve of her nose fitting against him perfectly. They looked like mates. I just didn't understand why Kendra always fought him. 

We climbed up a set of twin winding stair cases and made a left. The door were all open. He stopped in front of the first room. "This one is yours. The Storm Prince is in the one across the hall. Kendra and I will be at the end of the hall. Goodnight, Lux."

____________________

Based off this chapter can you guess who the lyrics were about?

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It was Kristos' feelings towards Kendra!