Mercy Hall
Indistinct voices rouse Mercy from a dreamless slumber. Her lids spring open. Her inner beast scans the morning shadows of the cave.
The high-pitched ping of a pebble bounces off the rocky ground, and she tenses.
She draws in a deep, steady breath. Her heartbeats quicken. Mixed traces of the dank cave, spring water, and the aftermath of the sexual encounter with Ambrose, swirls around in her nose.
There's another scent, one she's smelled before.
"Calm yourself, girl." Grigori's deep, baritone voice echoes as he steps into view. "I can hear your racing hearts."
Behind him, Helios approaches. He does nothing to hide his anger. "You would lay with this human instead of one of your brethren?"
"That is none of your business," replies Ambrose. He presses her against the cloaks, covering her exposed breasts.
"Enough." Grigori shoves his staff against Helios' chest, which stops the angered gargouille's advance.