Persephone (The Lily Harper Series Book 4)

  “Oh, an’ one last thing,” Bill continued. I was amazed he still had air left in his lungs. “Of all people, I get that you’re like pent-up, if ya catch my drift,” he started. He winked and I shook my head while wondering where the hell he planned to go with this. “An’ I’m more than sure that shit’s the reason you’re sufferin’ from the worst case of PMS I’ve ever seen! So, dude, do us all a favor! Get out an’ go fuckin’ shake the ketchup bottle!”

  Tallis was quiet for a few seconds before he exhaled deeply. The frown on his face conveyed the notion that Bill’s words were having some sort of effect on him. Whether it was good or bad, though, was anyone’s guess. He didn’t reply to Bill, but turned his attention to me. His eyes immediately settled on Alaire’s phone, which I still held in my hands.

  As soon as Tallis spotted the phone, the veil of anger returned to his features. He took the three steps separating us and then, without so much as a word, he reached down and snatched the phone from me. He pulled his arm back and launched it into the air as far as he could hurl it. And that was far. The guy had an arm on him that any quarterback would envy. But that didn’t alter what he’d just done, which was completely unacceptable.

  “Who the hell do you think you are!?” I yelled as I turned to face him, my mouth open from shock and anger. But Tallis didn’t back down, and the redness in his cheeks only deepened as he gritted his teeth and we glared at each other.

  “Mah job is tae protect ye an’ Ah cannae dae so when ye’ve got Alaire spyin’ oan our every move!” he snapped before rubbing the back of his neck, like he always did when he was pissed off. He glanced over at Bill, who was now swiftly skinning the lump of bloody flesh and not saying a word. Then Tallis returned his attention to me, saying, “Ah am off tae fetch wood fer a fire,” before he stomped away.

  “Dude needs to get laid,” Bill commented as soon as Tallis was out of earshot. “Or, at the very least, he should wank all that shit out,” he concluded. His attention was riveted on skinning the lump of bloody flesh like he was afraid Tallis would return and yell at him about it again.

  “What are you talking about?” I demanded. A growing irritation began to wind through my gut. I had to wonder if Tallis’s bad mood was contagious.

  “That’s some cray-cray right there, an’ that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Bill said as he glanced up and eyed me pointedly. “Dude needs a man release; otherwise, the news is gonna get even worse.”

  “A man release?” I asked him warily. “You think his bad mood—”

  But Bill shook his head and laughed at me like I didn’t get it. “It’s not just a bad mood, nips. Dude is losin’ it.”

  “He’s not losing anything, Bill,” I informed him. “You just pissed him off, that’s all.”

  “That’s what you think,” Bill shrugged. “But last I checked, you were sans dick, so you can’t speak bro language.” Then his eyes narrowed. “An’ people with vaginas should keep their mouths shut on shit they don’t know nothin’ about!”

  I shook my head and expelled a long breath. “I guess you got me there. So in bro-penis language, what do you think is wrong with Tallis?”

  “It’s simple, Gina,” he started, as though it were spelled “Gyna.” I imagined my newest nickname was intended to emphasize the genitalia between my legs. One thing I could say for Bill was that it was never dull with him around …

  He paused from his task and started to shake his head, scrunching his nose up and down like a rabbit. “Gotta itch!” he explained as he held his breath. “Ah, fuck it,” he finally said before scratching the side of his nose with his bloodied finger which left a huge smudge.

  “Gross,” I muttered.

  “Where was I?” Bill asked, not bothering to clean up the blood on his face. “Oh, yeah, Dude Anatomy 101. When a bro goes too long without shootin’ his load, dude ends up with toxico-cummosis.”

  “What?” I asked, shaking my head as my eyebrows furrowed of their own accord. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! Toxico-cummosis? Really, Bill?!”

  “I’m deadly serious!” Bill replied while holding up two bloodied fingers for scout’s honor, only in horror movie style. “What? You think that shit can just back up for however long it takes without side effects?” he asked before spearing me with a serious expression. “Hell’s no, it can’t! It has to be released, an’ if it don’t, dudes can seriously lose their minds.”

  “Or get Toxico-cummosis?” I double-checked with a frown.

  “Yep, that’s when it gets really bad. When it goes that far, the dude’s a dead duck,” Bill reaffirmed. “Happens more often than you think.”

  “I’m sure,” I placated him.

  “I bet Conan is really close to gettin' poisoned, if he hasn’t been already,” he continued.

  I wasn’t so sure about Toxico-cummosis, or cum poisoning, but surmised that poisoning of a different nature was really not too far off. And on that note, I decided to test my theory out. Taking a deep breath, I stood up and ventured a few steps. I had to see whether or not the effort to stand and walk was still too taxing. Luckily, I felt fine.

  “Where the hells are you going?” Bill asked as he looked over at me curiously. “You gotta go make your water or maybe a turd?”

  “No,” I snapped curtly, thinking a little break from Angel Bill was exactly what I needed. “I’m going to find Tallis.”

  “An’ what if he doesn’t wanna be found?” Bill asked. “Maybe he’s shakin’ the ketchup bottle, right now, as we speak.”

  “Maybe, but somehow, I doubt that,” I replied before grabbing my sword and starting forward. “I’ll be back in five minutes if I can’t find him.”

  “Oh, sure … An’ if some fucked-up thing attacks you an’ eats your brains, don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”

  “I won’t,” I answered as I thought better of it and reached for the whistle, which was still sitting inside the canvas bag. Better to be safe than sorry … or brainless, as the case may be.

  ***

  It didn’t take me very long to find Tallis. Barely five hundred feet from our campsite, he was busily collecting stray pieces of firewood, just like he’d said he would.

  “Tallis,” I called out, not wanting to alarm him since I was approaching him from behind. The last time I did that, I found myself up close and personal with the edge of his blade.

  He turned around immediately with a scowl. “Whit are ye doin’ oop an’ aboot? Ye should be restin’.”

  “I wanted to talk to you,” I answered nervously, seeing he was definitely in a bad mood, and much worse than usual. Tallis was intimidating in general, and so much more when he was angry.

  “Aboot whit?” he demanded, eyeing me with a pinched expression.

  “When was the last time you bled yourself?” I asked.

  He blinked a few times, but didn’t say anything. It was fairly obvious that my question threw him. Seconds later, any surprise that might have shone in his eyes was now absent. But he still didn’t say anything—he just continued gathering wood.

  “I know Donnchadh’s toxins must build up,” I continued, fidgeting because I felt so nervous. “So I thought maybe that could be one of the reasons that you’ve been seeing red lately.”

  He nodded. “Aye, ye are observant, lass.”

  “Then I was right in my thinking?”

  He nodded again, then stood up and turned to face me. “Aye. When Ah cannae release Donnchadh’s toxins, he flavors mah mood,” he explained with a deep sigh.

  “So, why haven’t you bled yourself lately?” I pushed.

  “Ah cannae dae it here,” he replied as a few pieces of wood fell from his arms onto the ground. “Bludy hell,” he grumbled as he leaned over and started picking them up again.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer and continued to collect the fallen pieces of wood, which were soon followed by new ones. It became quite clear that this subject was a sensitive one that he preferred
not to discuss. Of course, any subjects involving Tallis were all sensitive ones that he never wanted to discuss. Calling him secretive was a feeble understatement.

  He stood up and faced me, breathing in and out again audibly. “Ye are tae noosy fer yer own good.”

  “Yes, and we’ve established that; now would you please answer the question?” I replied, my lips tighter.

  He shook his head as a small smile seized his lips. But it vanished just as quickly as it appeared. “When Ah cleanse mahself o’ Donnchadh’s toxins, mah bluid also acts as an offerin’ tae the earth,” he started.

  I remembered the first time I’d seen Tallis bleeding himself in the snow, the earth hadn’t accepted his blood. And when Donnchadh had taken control of him and I’d had to bleed him in his home, the same thing had happened. His blood just pooled until it finally disappeared into the ground as if the earth had swallowed it in one gulp.

  “But it didn’t seem like the ground ever wanted to accept it,” I argued. “Both times that I’ve seen you bleed yourself, the earth always seems loath to absorb your blood.”

  “When Ah ooffer mah bluid, Ah’m only oofferin’ it tae a particular plot o’ land,” he announced. “Not tae the land in general.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He didn’t respond right away and turned around so his back was facing me. The black ink of his tree tattoo, which covered his entire back, seemed suddenly so stark against the warmth of his skin tone.

  “Ah offer mah bluid tae this tree,” he explained.

  “But how is that possible? Isn’t the tree just a tattoo on your back?” I asked, sounding as puzzled as I felt.

  He turned around to face me again and shook his head. “The tree is real,” he announced. “The tattoo is merely a sign o’ reverence fer the real thing.”

  “The tree is real?” I asked, feeling surprised, but I wasn’t sure why. “Where is it?”

  “Aye, ’tis real; an’ it resides in the Dark Wood.”

  “So what does the tree have to do with your blood offering?” I asked, still trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. But I sensed that the puzzle known as Tallis Black was missing so many critical pieces, it could never be complete.

  “Ah dinnae want tae explain the history o’ the tree, nor why Ah pay homage tae it,” he announced firmly and quickly. “Boot suffice tae say in order fer meh tae make meh offerin’, Ah moost be in the same longitudinal line as the tree.”

  He had to be in the same GPS line as the tree when he made his offering? I felt my eyebrows meeting in the middle of my forehead as I tried to register his statement. “So, the first time I saw you whipping yourself with the cat o’ nine tails, when you were outside in the snow, and your blood emptied into the river,” I started.

  “Aye, the river woos at the same longitude as the tree; an’ therefore, it carried mah bluid tae the tree.” He took a deep breath. “That was why the earth wouldnae accept mah bluid. ’Twas not in the same longitude as the tree.”

  I shook my head while trying to make sense of his words. “When I was in your house and Donnchadh took control of you, I managed to bleed you, and we were nowhere near the river!”

  “Ah built mah cabin oan the same longitudinal line as the tree, lass,” he explained. “Oan purpose.”

  “Oh.” I nodded and tried to understand why he would need to offer his blood to the tree in the first place, not to mention why he’d commemorated it on his back. “Why do you bleed yourself for the tree?”

  He inhaled deeply and averted his eyes. “Tae make oop fer mah past wrongs, lass.”

  Apparently, where Tallis was concerned, all roads led to his life’s quest for redemption.

  “As soon as I was at the foot of his tomb somewhat he eyed me...”

  - Dante’s Inferno

  EIGHT

  “Does your blood do something to the tree?” I asked Tallis, only one of a million questions swarming through my mind. As soon as I thought I was close to unraveling the mysterious persona embodied by Tallis Black, another enigma would emerge, putting me right back to where I started.

  “Aye,” Tallis answered as he headed for our campsite again. His arms were overloaded with large branches as well as smaller ones to be used for kindling. He marched ahead of me and it was all I could do just to keep up with him, feeling as fatigued as I did.

  “How?” I persisted when it became pretty clear that he had no intention of further explaining. “What does your blood do to it?”

  Tallis refused to slow down his quick pace. So naturally, I just kept falling farther and farther behind. Realizing I was basically easy pickings for whatever creatures might be lurking in the Dark Wood, I tightened my hold around my sword. However, the ensuing thought that my whistle might prove to be a better ally crossed my mind, and I placed it between my thumb and forefinger just to be prepared, should the need to blow it arise.

  “Mah bluid nourishes the tree,” he answered succinctly while weaving in and out of the skeletal trees as I ambled on behind him, albeit much more slowly.

  “I don’t know what that means,” I admitted in a winded voice. I started to feel dizzy and fought to catch my breath.

  Tallis turned on his toes and faced me, his expression revealing his pure irritation. Maybe he realized how exhausted I was—which was entirely my own fault, since I’d come after him in the first place.

  “Mah bluid feeds the tree,” he said. “It has kept the tree alive as long as Ah have been alive.”

  “For what? … Two thousand … years?” I asked, my tone was sarcastic and incredulous as I slowed my walk to a dead stop after finally catching up with him. I couldn’t stop panting and my lungs burned with every effort to breathe. It soon became fairly obvious that I was fading fast. Coming so close to death at the claws of the Hanuush demon had really done a number on me.

  “Aye,” he answered, glaring at me before turning back around and starting forward again. He barely took three more steps before he stopped again. Standing with his back facing me for a few seconds, he sighed and turned around, making his way toward me, albeit grumpily. “Ye are ah bludy nuisance,” he curtly announced. Dropping his armload of branches, he swooped me into his arms. I was careful to move my sword to avoid slicing him in the process.

  “So, if the tree dies, does that mean you die too?” I asked, looping my arms around his neck and trying not to grin at the irritated expression on his face.

  “Nae,” he answered while refusing to look at me. “The only way Ah can die is if Donnchadh leaves meh.” Then he speared me with a very cross expression, and added, “Boot ye already knew that.”

  “I just thought I’d double-check,” I answered. My hesitant smile and tentative shrug earned one arched and furry, but quite unimpressed, brow in response.

  I couldn’t say anything more because I suddenly became spellbound by his profile and, specifically, the scar that bisected his cheek. He’d never told me how he’d gotten it, but at the moment, I couldn’t have said I cared. Instead, I ached to run my fingers down the side of his face and revel in the sensation of his skin. I wanted to touch the stubble of beard on his jaw, cheeks and chin to discover whether his hair was soft or prickly. Usually, Tallis was always clean-shaven, and this rugged side of him was something rather new to me, although I couldn’t say I disliked or disapproved of it.

  “Tallis,” I said without thinking that I wanted to say his name in the first place. I immediately bit my lip as soon as his name dropped off my tongue, and I wasn’t sure what to say next.

  “Whit?”

  “Do we have to go back yet?” I replied. The grim thought of returning to Bill didn’t sit well with me, especially since Tallis and I hadn’t really spent much time alone together at all. “Can we wait just a little bit longer?” I continued, trying not to whine. Of course, I cherished any alone time that I could share with him, since it was so rare.

  “Whit are ye talkin’ aboot?” he snapped. His eyebrows knotted as his nostrils flared; and he lo
oked, for all intents and purposes, like he intended to kill me.

  “I have lots of questions for you,” I said in a sheepish voice. I wanted to save some face now that it seemed like the last thing he wanted to do was tarry in the woods alone with me. That cold fact wasn’t exactly good for my self-esteem.

  “Ye always have questions, Besom,” he grumbled while shaking his head. Moments later, his eyebrows abandoned their furrowed expression. “Ah can nae longer remember whit silence sounds like mooch though Ah wish Ah could.”

  “Ha-ha, Tallis,” I muttered, unable to stop my smile as soon as he grinned in spite of himself. It was an infrequent occasion when he dropped his wall of defense and allowed himself to become candid with me. Whenever he did, I found myself wishing he would do it more often. He was just such a pleasant sight to behold when he was smiling and happy.

  “I wish you would smile more,” I said in a soft voice as I studied him. I had to fight the urge to touch him. “You’re incredibly handsome when you do.”

  He cleared his throat and the smile on his face instantly faded. A sigh started from deep inside me as I realized I’d ruined whatever levity might’ve existed between us. Now Tallis looked about as uncomfortable as he could. A reddish hue began to overtake his cheeks, and he refused to make further eye contact with me.

  Despite seeming to be completely out of his element, it wasn’t lost on me that he didn’t start walking back toward our camp. Instead, he stayed rooted in the exact same spot, almost like his feet were planted in concrete. And, yes, I was more than aware that he was doing this for me—simply because I’d asked him to spend more time with me … alone.

  “Ye talk tae mooch, Besom,” he murmured at last, breaking the silence. “An’ ye have tae many opinions in that daft head o’ yours.”

  I didn’t take offense. It was obvious he was trying to deflect his growing discomfort that had been building ever since I’d told him he needed to smile more. Tallis wasn’t exactly receptive toward constructive criticism. Not that he was any better with praise …