Syn had scolded her, bringing up the very valid point that she’d had no proof the phones could work in Hell.
Thankfully, they did.
She dialled the only number stored in the smartphone and brought it to her ear. It seemed to ring forever before her friend finally answered.
“What shit are you in now?” Syn’s bright voice came down the line.
A small smile teased Mackenzie’s lips, warmth spreading through her upon hearing her friend’s voice, chasing away the lingering traces of fear. “Kitty has claws and bared them at me. Bring me a med kit? I’m just outside the town with the vampire infestation.”
Syn huffed, and Mackenzie could practically see her rolling her eyes. “Told you they were mean. It runs in the blood, sweetie. All men are bastards.”
A motto that Syn lived by.
“Just bring the kit and leave the scolding.” Mackenzie stretched her senses around her, making sure she was still alone.
She could teleport if forced to, but she didn’t want to risk it. It would deplete her, stealing the last of her strength.
“Already here.” Syn’s voice sounded behind her, and Mackenzie grimaced as she tried to turn to look at her friend. The demoness’s amber eyes widened, her red lips parting as she took her in. “Looks like kitty used you as a scratching post.”
Syn crouched in front of her and set the small black box down, opened it and ran her fingers over several of the colourful vials nestled among dark grey foam. She paused on a blue one and raised her luminous eyes back to Mackenzie’s face.
The demoness canted her head and lifted her hand from the vial to brush her fingertips across Mackenzie’s lips.
“Please tell me he punched your lipstick off.”
Mackenzie swallowed hard. Damn it. She should have had the foresight to know her friend would spot the tell, should have cleaned the remains of her lipstick off before Syn had arrived.
Syn rolled her eyes. “Really, Mackenzie?”
She was quick to shake her head, something she regretted when the right side of her chest stung. A blow for a blow. She had stabbed Hartt on that side, and he had targeted it when he had turned into some murderous, rampaging madman.
“He busted my nose.” A reasonable excuse. “I must have smeared it when I was wiping the blood away.”
Syn didn’t look as if she was buying it. Her friend got comfortable, sitting cross-legged on the dirt as if they were out for a delightful picnic somewhere picturesque, not recovering from a fight that might have ended with Mackenzie’s death.
If the elf hadn’t pulled his punches at the last minute.
Cold snaked down her spine as she replayed how he had changed again, abruptly stopping himself when he had an opening, could have easily taken her down. Had the side of him that didn’t want to hurt her risen back to steal control in that moment?
“Tell Auntie Syn all about it.” The demoness patted her knee and Mackenzie scowled at her. Syn pouted, pulling a face of mock pity. “Did the big, bad man hurt my widdle girl?”
Now Mackenzie really glared at her. “He got a few lucky shots in and it’s not like I could do much about them. He snapped.”
“Snapped?” Syn’s jet eyebrows rose and she leaned back, toyed with one of the silver streaks in her onyx pixie cut and pretended she wasn’t stroking the tip of her small polished black horns that curled around her ears.
“Like a rubber band. Is that right?” Mackenzie pulled a face. “Maybe more like a twig. One minute he was whole, the next he was… broken.”
That summed him up a little too well and she fell silent as she contemplated how suddenly he had changed on her. She made a mental note to be more on guard around him, in case Mr Hyde came out to play again.
Not that she was planning on spending more time with him.
“Ooh.” Syn’s amber eyes lit up. “Mac’n’cheese is a bad girl and made out with a tainted elf.”
She hated it when her friend called her that and Syn knew it.
Mackenzie tensed when her senses lit up, but Syn was already way ahead of her, turned her head to her right to glare at the male who had just emerged from an alley between the buildings there. One of the vampire guards.
“Get lost, fang face. This is a private party.” Syn’s black leathery wings suddenly unfurled from her bare back, the reason she always insisted on wearing corsets with low-cut rears.
The blond vampire took one look at them and then at her friend’s horns, and left them alone.
“Freaking pervert,” Syn muttered.
According to the demoness, every male was a pervert looking to score with every female on the planet. None of them was worth even a tenth of their weight in salt and all of them were incompetent meat-sacks not worth her time.
Mackenzie never had been able to get her friend to confess what had happened in her past to birth such an aversion to the opposite sex. The few times she had tried, Syn had either clammed up hard or had lashed out at her and not spoken to her for weeks.
She had stopped asking when Syn had done something other than those two things.
The sight of her best friend breaking down into tears had been enough to earn Mackenzie’s silence on the matter.
“So, he did kiss you, right?” Syn leaned forwards again, her wings shrinking into her back, and placed both palms on the knees of her black leather pants. The demoness peered closely at her, her amber eyes narrowing, and then they widened. “Oh my Dark Lord… you totally kissed him.”
Mackenzie grimaced.
Syn’s eyes lit up as if she had just confessed every juicy detail. “Sick. You are sick. You know he’s the enemy, right? The competition? Did you want to give him a happy ending?”
Mackenzie frowned at her friend. “No. It was the heat of the moment. The battle high. I didn’t mean to do it, and it won’t happen again.”
It really wouldn’t. She wasn’t fantasising about it right that moment. She really wasn’t.
But sweet gods, his lips had been firm and unyielding, his kiss commanding and absolutely thrilling, as if he had been made to kiss her. His body had felt delicious against hers too, all hard, honed muscles that had set fire to her blood, had made her crave more.
She groaned.
She still craved more.
Syn leaned her head to her left. “You look awfully like you’re smooching him in your head. You’re totally smooching him in your head, aren’t you?”
Her friend gasped, her eyes widening.
“Or are you undressing him? Oh, Mackenzie. You really need to get laid or something if you’re wanting to bone the competition.”
She wanted to refute that accusation, but what was the point? Syn would only see straight through whatever flimsy lie she dreamed up.
“It isn’t going to happen. My wires are just crossed. You’re right. I need to blow off steam and he just happens to be revving my engine whenever we cross paths. Fighting is a powerful aphrodisiac.”
Her second-oldest brother had told her that.
Her mood faltered as she thought about him, as that thought led to ones about the rest of her family and before she could stop it, she was spiralling down a dark rabbit hole of misery.
“Mac?” Syn shuffled closer and stroked her knee. “Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry. I’ll lay off. No more talk of the kitty.”