Siobhan, The goddess' handmaiden

15. A stalker

“I feel like I’m being watched,” Siobhan tells Naryshka. She can’t shake this feeling no matter where she is. There is someone lurking around and following her.

“It’s not Ereshkigal?” The demoness wonders.

“No. That feeling is different. She can sneak up on me, or take me over, or just use my eyes to look through me,” Siobhan explains. “This is more like that skin crawling feeling of someone watching me and I can’t determine where he or she is.”

“Are you feeling it now?” Naryshka asks. The demoness is looking around the lab with suspicion, ready to lunge at the first move.

“No,” Siobhan shakes her head. “But I did feel it out in the hallway.”

“Maybe it’s my presence? Whoever is watching you doesn’t like me,” the demoness smiles. “I might set a trap. You made me curious. And there are just a handful of creatures allowed to be in the palace. If this is someone who is not supposed to be here, we have to catch them fast.”

“We? What exactly is this for you?” Siobhan inquires. The interest is more than just a concerned friend trying to help another.

“I am a royal guard. I’m not a general, or Ereshkigal’s second in command like Nakir, I’m literally the one who makes sure the palace is empty. The other demons are not afraid of me, so we have some who sneak in on occasion.”

“To test you? Or to annoy you?” Siobhan chuckles. She can’t imagine what a guard would have to do to keep the palace this size empty.

“Both. The idiots even have wagers going on. They like to keep me on my toes,” Naryshka scoffs. “They don’t do it when I’m away. I have sensors put out all over this place. Magic bubbles that burst when a demon passes by.”

“Why do I have the feeling it’s not just a bubble?” Siobhan looks at the demoness. “There has to be something that discourages them from entering the palace when you’re not here.”

“The bubble shoots out a magical net that holds them trapped,” Naryshka chuckles.

“That gives me ideas for my stalker. It’s not harmful? Right?” Siobhan asks. She is not in favour of harming anyone. Demon or not, all life is sacred. She is upholding the Wicca way even in death.

“No,” the demoness laughs. “It’s just that nobody wants to be stuck in there for days. The net negates magic powers. Most demons rely on magic or brute strength. Mostly magic, they are vain and lazy creatures.”

“What if the stalker is not a demon?” Siobhan wants to know. There are some other entities around here, she worries what would happen if Nakir gets trapped?

“If this being is supposed to be here, the trap won’t go off,” Naryshka answers.

“I’m in. Set the trap,” Siobhan nods. “But I do wonder how you can tell the magic bubbles who is allowed and who’s not?”

“That’s actually easy. Nakir and Ereshkigal are both different from the demons, they don’t trigger my traps. Neither do you, because you’re human. I have a drop of demon blood in every bubble, it reacts in the presence of other demons,” Naryska winks at her.

“Have you ever caught one of Nakir's mistresses?” Siobhan blurts out.

“I wouldn’t call the bitches that. They think they are so important because he screwed them? They’re just food for him, nothing else,” Naryshka laughs. “A few got caught in my nets and whined about it. I couldn’t care less.”

“There was one that tried to boss me around, but my bracelet zapped her,” Siobhan tells Naryshka. The demoness is easy to trust.

“They should learn their place. But the demonesses he picks out are all young. They don’t know him the way I do. Nakir feeds on emotions as well as blood. Fear is his favourite food. And he’s really good at inducing it,” Naryshka scoffs. “Stay out of his way if you know what's good for you.”

“He doesn’t want me anywhere close to him,” Siobhan shakes her head. “Besides, Ereshkigal owns me. I heard she doesn’t share.”

“No, she doesn’t. But she has made exceptions for Nakir in the past. Now that she has him back, she looks happier. The torture is down to a minimum and there is peace in Irkalla,” Naryshka frowns. “Wow. I just realised I missed the surly bastard.”

“Oh my! You are fond of him!” Siobhan exclaims.

“Gods no!” Naryshka cringes visibly. “I have never and I will never be his food. I’m a dom. I would never sub for him even if he’s the last man in existence.”

“A dominatrix? It suits you,” Siobhan laughs. Her new friend is an interesting one.

“You better remember that,” Naryshka glares at her. It’s actually cute the way she pretends to be annoyed. But Siobhan has never liked women. As beautiful as Naryshka is, it leaves her cold.

Siobhan watches Naryska make one of her bubble traps. They will set it outside of the lab door. The plan is for Naryshka to leave early and forget to close the door all the way. Siobhan will just continue to work on the cream for Ereshkigal. If her stalker really was discouraged by Naryshka, he or she would probably use the chance to spy on her through the crack in the door. Siobhan keeps stirring the mixture on the burner. The feeling of being watched is back, but except for the viper, she is alone. She can’t pick up another heartbeat anywhere in the laboratory.

“Alright Tzion, ready to donate some venom?” She asks the viper. Any response would be better than cold indifference. The viper couldn’t care less as long as he is warm and fed. A perfect pet in her opinion. She opens the terrarium carefully. A startled snake might try to bite her and that would just be a waste of venom. Picking Tzion up gently, she presses behind the fangs with a small stick. A few drops of venom fall onto a petri dish that she had prepared before. “Thank you for your contribution.”

A yelp sounds out in the hallway. Did the trap work? She sets Tzion back into his home and closes the lid. Losing the viper in the commotion would be bad. Siobhan rushes to the door to see who got caught in the trap. The sight is heartbreaking. A small black ball of fur and two bright red eyes stare at her. The sadness that wafts from the small Hellhound reaches her. It has a distinct scent. Almost like tears. The silent whining underlines the sad expression. What does the puppy want from her? The last time he acted as if he wanted to kill her. She kneels by his side and lifts the net. One of his paws got all tangled up, so she gently extracts it.

“Fenrir? Why are you following me?” Siobhan asks the puppy. The Hellhound doesn't speak, but a happy tail wag is an answer all on itself. The puppy crawls onto her lap and some of his fur turns red. Small flames dance over his ears and legs. The fire does nothing to her. It’s not even warm. She reaches a hand out on instinct and pets the pup. His fur is like silk between her fingers. So soft and calming, she can’t be mad at him. The puppy is happily purring. It’s not a sound she would associate with dogs, but Hellhounds are a breed of their own.

“Oh, bloody Hell!” Nakir exclaims. She didn’t see him come around the bend in the hallway, but he looks angry to the point she can see small lightning shoot from him. “Unhand my Hellhound! He’s not a tame pet. Fenrir has to learn to stay put. That is what I expect of a guard!”

“But he’s just a puppy,” Siobhan protests.

“You didn’t think so the other day. You were so scared of him you ran. That is the correct response anyone should have when meeting a Hellhound. Why are you petting him now?” Nakir glares at her.

“Just look at him? How could I not? The sad eyes, the small sad ball of fur, he deserves to be coddled,” Siobhan looks up at Nakir. His anger still hasn’t cooled down. If he keeps it up he’ll create a storm inside.

Nakir pulls a whip from his belt. She didn’t even see it there in all the black that always surrounds him. A loud cracking noise echoes around them when he snaps the whip over the tiles. The small Hellhound in her lap yelps and jumps away. His fire flares up, the fur grows longer and it seems to grow in size as well. When the fire dies down she can see the other shape. The one the Hellhounds are famous for. Fangs the length of her forearm, blood-red eyes and a body that promises speed. His claws are scraping over the tiles and the menacing growl sends shivers down her spine. A chain appears in Nakir’s hand and he clasps it to Fenrir’s collar. The mood of the dark angel is murderous, so she keeps quiet. Siobhan watches Nakir drag the poor puppy away. Even when he looks this scary, she can’t think of Fenrir in any other way.