Bad Tempered Lovers

Havermouth, Present Time

Talen had trussed Chris Errans up like a pig ready for the rotisserie, and Aislen enjoyed, very much, watching the man grunting, dragging air in through his broken and swollen nose as he was gagged, and squirming as if seeking relief from his predicament.

“Be careful of the broken glass.” Talen scooped her underwear up off the floor, shaking them free of glass shards, and his eyes hardened as he passed them to her, his hand stroking under her skirt. “Did he…?” He growled.

“No,” she assured him as she stepped into the panties and pulled them on. “He f-king tried though, the raping bastard. I kicked his balls so hard that I’m pretty sure they’re lodged in his throat, now, and he can taste his own come.”

“Good,” Talen’s search had discovered the bruise on her hip, and he shook his head, his glower darkening.

“I have a few lumps and bruises,” she admitted. “But I gave pretty good back, I think.”

“I agree,” he caressed her hair. “I am sorry,” he leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “I am sorry that I was not back sooner.”

“I had it handled,” she laid her palm on his cheek. “Mostly.”

“Admirably so,” he said with approval.

On the couch, Tyler groaned and sat up, his hand pressed to his head and his lips stained with Talen’s blood as he had force fed him a dose in order to chase the sedatives from his system. “What the f-k happened?” Tyler licked his lips and grimaced. “Why do I taste blood?”

“I dosed you,” Talen told him.

“Aww, f-k,” Tyler complained. “I’m going to have to get my ID changed again. Vampire blood,” he said seeing the look of confusion on Aislen’s face. “It’s better than plastic surgery for rejuvenation. Give it a couple of days, and you’ll see. Keeps us humans looking young and pretty.”

“Oh,” she was astonished and slid a look at Talen. “You didn’t mention that your blood comes with a facelift.”

Talen snorted. “Tyler overexaggerates.”

“I’m fifty-three,” Tyler told Aislen. “Does it look like an exaggeration to you?”

She raised her eyebrows. “No.”

“We should go,” Talen’s change of subject wasn’t discrete. “Tyler…”

“I’ll get out the bleach,” Tyler nodded. “I know the routine.”

“You do this often?” Aislen was astonished and starting to get a little worried.

In the heat of the moment, her mind flooded with Chris Arrens’ horrible thoughts, his memories of his violation of his daughter and the violence that had rendered Heather unable to live her own life, Aislen had been entirely prepared to kill the man. It had been killing him or be killed. Now though, with the fire cooling in her veins, she was less certain – killing someone was just… so permanent.

Not that he didn’t deserve it. Of all the minds she’d accidentally visited, Chris Arrens’ was definitely the most deserving of a terrible death. She just wasn’t entirely sure that she had the balls to deliver it.

“Over the decades, we’ve encountered some situations,” Tyler replied rising to his feet. “It’s just part of supernatural life. Don’t let it bother you. Start from the beginning, what did this sorry piece of shit do that makes him deserve to die?”

“He raped his daughter from the age of five until she left for college. She met a boy, fell in love, and when he realized that he was losing his control over her, and that she might press charges, he strangled her until she almost died. She suffered brain damage, and has to live in a care home, and he still…” She swallowed back bile, rediscovering the outraged anger. “He still goes and rapes her there.”

“And,” she continued looking down at the worm of a man on the ground. “As if that’s not bad enough, because he’s f-ked up, he worked his way into a leadership position of a group of parents who were sure that their daughters had been sexually assaulted. When my dad began compiling and organizing evidence, rather than just joining the meetings to vent his anger like the rest, Chris freaked out, certain that dad’s poking would discover what he had done.”

“Did he kill your father?” Talen’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at the man.

“No,” Aislen was certain that Chris had been truthful. “No. He would have though. Someone just beat him to it. His plan for today, seeing as I wasn’t stupid enough to just hand over the documents, was to break in, incapacitate me, and burn down the house with me in it. No evidence left, tragic accident, and no loose ends.” That made her angry enough to kick him again. “No loose ends! We’re f-king people you shit.”

“And the attacks upon the house?” Talen made no effort to prevent her from seeking her revenge on the bound man, but rested his hip against the kitchen bench, crossing his arms in an impressive display of bicep, and frowned down at him.

“Also, not him,” Aislen replied.

“Mhm,” Talen wasn’t happy. She could appreciate his annoyance. If Chris had been the cause of all her troubles, it would have made a nice, neat, tidy parcel, and they could have all relaxed. “Alright,” he pushed off the benchtop. “Let’s dispose of this problem. I’ll drive the Ute around the back.”

He walked down the narrow hall to the front door.

“You don’t have to worry,” Tyler said quietly. “Talen knows what to do and has the resources to take care of this arsehole. It will never come back to bite you. When Talen makes someone disappear, they stay disappeared.”

“That’s… A little scary,” she replied.

“Only if you’re on the wrong side of Talen,” Tyler pointed out. “And he adores you, Morgana. You are the mate that he has waited centuries for. Vampires are fanatical about finding the perfect mate, their missing piece. When that person comes along for them, they will stop at nothing in order to protect them.”

“You ever… you know,” she lifted an eyebrow. “Bumped nasties with him?”

Tyler sniggered. “Not my type. I like skinny pretty-boys with bratty attitudes,” he confessed. “Not that any of your men fit my description, but Rhett is probably close enough I’d have to think twice before I said no. I suspect, however, that not only would he prefer to be top, he’d out-brat my tolerances.”

Aislen laughed wryly. “Yeah, he’s a bitch,” she agreed. “But he’s worth the bad temper.”

Talen entered through the back door. “Okay?” He asked looking between her and Tyler.

“We were just discussing sexual preferences,” Tyler told him.

Talen hmphed his breath through his nose. “Tyler likes his lovers like little dogs, all snarly barks and bad tempers,” he told Aislen, and picked up Chris Arrens by his bindings, carrying him with ease to the door. “Sort of how I like my woman,” he chuckled. “A smart mouthed demon who I come home to find half drowning a man in the shower.”

“That’s me,” Aislen agreed. “But he deserved the drowning.”

“He did,” Talen agreed. “And we’ll finish off his bad day in the French way.”

“The French way,” she followed him out into the gravelled back garden. He tossed the bound man into the tray of the Ute as easily as if Chris Arrens was a suitcase, and with about as much care, before securing the tarp over top. “A guillotine?” She guessed.

Talen laughed. “Too fast. No. An oubliette.”