A section to comment on the Awakening series. You may find polls here, secrets answered, character bios–I’m not sure exactly yet. Please, if you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them!
Do not make me get you.
“Nanna, I’m sleeping,” Devlan grumbled, burying his head under the pillow he had only just touched upon. It was sunrise, the light of dawn threatening to spill in through his heavily curtained windows at any moment. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep.
We’re all tired, boy, but for some reason, the fool that is calling does not seem to care that he’s interrupting the clan’s rest. The boy is damn powerful and obnoxiously persistent. Lady Jaha did not look tired, for all her complaints. Ancient, powerful, and the leader of Devlan’s adoptive clan, she rarely looked tired no matter what time of day it was. It was part of her elven allure, her ability innate and so powerful that she likely couldn’t look anything but perfect even in the midst of battle. It probably didn’t hurt that she was seen only through Devlan’s inner eye, her visage of perfection reaching out through their mental connection. She could have been covered in a mud bath for all he knew.
Although his adoptive grandmother appeared lovely, she was clearly not feeling so, her ire palpable even as Devlan’s heavy eyelids drooped. Devlan, the boy is calling for you alone. Get up and deal with this before he shakes the temple down with his power.
Groaning miserably, he pushed the pillow from his head, his dark hair spraying out in a spiky mess. “Who is it? What bastard is porting in a call at this disgusting hour? Nanna?” He pushed himself off the bed, dressed only in the pair of black jeans he had been too tired to remove. He could feel the exhaustion in his limbs, formed not only from the late hour but from the fact that he hadn’t fed in days. Rubbing his red-rimmed eyes, he turned unsteadily, flinging spells at the mirror on the wall he used for communicating.
The community portal, Dev. He’s lighting up the entire temple, insisting on a warded connection.
“For the love of—Nanna, who is it? Tell me, so I can kill the stupid fucker.” The temple was in the middle of the damn woods and there was no teleporting while on clan grounds. That meant five minutes in the morning light at the very least.
The hum in his head from his grandmother’s disapproval of his foul language did little for his nerves. Growling under his breath, Devlan grabbed his sunglasses and slammed out his bedroom door, his bare feet slapping on the stone floor.
It had to be Hierarchy related. Probably one of those sick, creepy old masters looking to get him to apprentice for them. They were all just fucking drooling to get their hands on an incubus, especially one with his pedigree. Devlan had spent his entire weekend dodging the gross fucks—Well, that and checking out his hunting prospects. Not much about the Hierarchy interested him besides the beautiful, healthy bodies that populated the place.
It hadn’t all been bad. One rather angry-eyed boy had made it nearly fucking interesting.
He growled louder as he opened the outside door and the heat of the morning sun hit him. Annoying as it was, it did little to push the thought of Evanel Reed out of his mind. A week later and the blond was haunting him. Every time he went to feed, the boy’s face flashed in his mind’s eye. It was misery.
“Should have fucked the kid,” he muttered under his breath. He raised his hands to block the spaces around his eyes the sunglasses didn’t cover while stepping surefooted down the worn dirt path that led to the temple. “Should have fucked him, dumped him, and I would have been done with this stupid shit a week ago.”
He was pretty sure he hated the angry-eyed thing. He was pretty sure if he saw the kid again, he’d beat the crap out of him for fucking up his life the way he had.
The trees thickened, brush catching at his feet the closer he got to the clan temple. It was perpetual summer in the center of the grounds, spells erected years ago when his clan had laid claim to the land. Devlan had been adopted by a band of elves that had parted ways from the Arc Fault long before the schism between incubus and elf had occurred. Although the Regents would like to have everyone believe different, there wasn’t much difference between elf and incubus when it came to the basics. The Greenlaude Clan was still nocturnal, still found peace in nature, and still respected the balance of all fae. They had a special ability that not all elves shared. In the Greenlaude Clan’s case, the power to heal living flesh. Sex was as important to them as any other life-giving energy and they celebrated it as such. There had never been an awkwardness when Devlan’s ability to consume milk had changed to the need for sexual energy. In many ways, he could have been living with a clan of incubi if not for the fact that although the Greenlaude elves could feed off of sex, they could also feed off of other energies including solid foods. Not once had Lady Jaha’s people ever made Devlan feel less for being an incubus.
Although Devlan had never had to fear a cruel word from any of his adoptive clan, he had heard plenty from their abundant cousins that lived in the area. The other elf clans weren’t invited much to their land. Lady Jaha had too much respect for the old ways to let such beings come in and cause trouble. It had yet to stop Devlan from slipping away to taunt the annoying, long-eared bastards when the mood struck.
It had been striking a lot lately. The haughty elf still smelling fresh of the Arc Fault he had crossed at the Hierarchy had burned a resentment in him that Devlan could not seem to let go of. Suggesting that he had attacked Evan—That he couldn’t control himself. No one could understand just how much control he had used to keep from jumping the blond the moment he had first seen him.
By the many gods, he hated Evanel Reed.
The temple was empty when he entered, the coolness of the stone and dark wrapping around him like an embrace. He had no need to remove shoes he wasn’t wearing, and the area by the door for footwear was void to show he was indeed alone in the temple at such an early hour. Devlan paused in the doorway, removing his sunglasses and bending to kiss the crest of his adoptive clan that was emblazoned in the entry.
The fae god, Surgens, had birthed the Greenlaude elves. Devlan loved him as much as he did the people that had given him a home when he had lost his own. He still held his own clan’s goddess, Caedis, close to his heart even if he was the last of her descendants. While many in a clan had one fae god to seek guidance from, Devlan could say he had two. Whether they had been able to help him from his many nights of lost wanderings, he had yet to see, but he was at least grateful to not be completely unattached in the spiritual world.
The cool air prickled on his bare chest as he descended the stone stairs to where the temple saturated in the energies of the earth. He had been avoiding the quiet place since having returned from the Hierarchy. There had been too much going on in his mind—was still too much—and he had always found the place too silent to ignore his thoughts. There was too much he would rather not face at the moment. Thankfully, Vesper Malice was not currently on that list.
“Seriously, Malice? Do you even know what fucking time it is?”
Vesper raised a brow, sucking down half his cigarette in silence. He was dressed in a black cloak and if Devlan wasn’t too tired to question it, he might think that the boy had set up one of the most elaborate shielding spells he had seen outside of the Hierarchy. He had even gone so far as to shield his room from his view so that if anyone stepped by, they wouldn’t be able to recognize any landmarks to find the boy. Vesper appeared from chest up in the huge mirror, thankfully at normal size and at his eye level; it was too early for Devlan to be able to handle the kinds of theatrics people could do when they felt like fucking around with a portal.
The blond’s ice-blue eyes fixed on him and Vesper finally spoke. “You look like shit. Have you been feeding at all?”
Devlan scowled. “It’s fucking dawn.”
Vesper was unaffected, his gaze still assessing the angry incubus. “This is serious, Devlan. I need to know you’re not going to end up dead anytime soon. What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked, sweeping his long hair aside. “Why are you so pale? Why aren’t you eating?”
The kid was lucky he was on the other side of the portal, or Devlan would have beaten the crap out of him. “What the fuck do you want, Malice? I haven’t seen your ass in a week—and a fucking year before that—and this is your way of saying hello? Do you realize what time it is? I’m a fucking incubus, dickwad. The rising sun is like our damn signal to fall asleep!”
Vesper had another drag of his cigarette while Devlan fumed. “Sorry. I had to make sure your Clan wouldn’t listen in.”
“If you had just ported the call to my personal mirror—”
“It’s not safe,” Vesper said abruptly, his eyes glancing aside to something Devlan couldn’t see. “I need a secure portal for this. I need your help.”
Devlan fought and failed to hold back an exasperated groan. “What, like right fucking now?”
Glaring, Vesper held up his hand in a silencing gesture. “Just listen. Please. I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Oh, you don’t have fucking time?” Grumbling, Devlan crossed his arms over his chest. When Vesper didn’t speak he looked up, waving his hand. “Well? Hurry the fuck up. I want to go back to bed.” It didn’t help that the blond was fucking hot and he hadn’t fed in so long that he had apparently gotten to the point of considering holier than thou death-bait as attractive.
Now that he had Devlan there, Vesper didn’t seem to know where to begin. He had another nervous hit of his cigarette, the smoke curling around him obscuring his features for a moment. “No names,” he finally started. “You’ll understand once I’m done. That interesting and rather angry party we both have a stake in… I have reason to believe he’s in danger. Soon to be dead kind of danger.”
Stilling, Devlan closed his eyes and nodded once in understanding.
“I would really like that to be different,” Vesper said quietly, his voice full of an intensity not heard before. “My current situation is too difficult. There is no way I can make a move. You don’t have that problem. If you could just remove this particular individual from his less than secure location…” he trailed off, Devlan exhaling heavily.
“Has he come to you for help?”
Vesper’s eyes sharpened and he shook his head curtly. “We haven’t had contact. He won’t know. There is no way he can protect himself from…” he struggled to find a word, eventually just turning and pulling down his cloak until the top of his tattoo was exposed to the incubus’ eyes.
“Fucker.” Growling lowly, Devlan whirled, pacing the length of the temple room the portal hung in. Vesper watched him in silence, his expression reflecting the weight of what he was asking from the boy.
Combing his fingers roughly through his dark locks, Devlan stepped back in front of the large mirror. “When?” He asked, his voice void of emotion.
Eying him warily, Vesper crushed what was left of his cigarette between his fingers. “I don’t know. I don’t know how much information has gotten out.”
“But you’re certain?” Devlan pressed, trying to ignore the swirl of dread in the pit of his stomach.
His gaze again drifting to the side, Vesper suddenly waved his hand, the image of the portal changing. A scene could be seen above the blond’s form of two slender, horned boys huddled together on an elegant loveseat. “This was given to me on my return,” Vesper explained delicately. “They are an allowance with the intent to remind me of what is not permitted.”
Staring up at the two demon slaves, Devlan’s frown only grew. “You perceive this to be a threat on him?”
“Fuck, yes.” Vesper waved his hand again, the scene disappearing. He leaned closer, glaring at Devlan. “What exactly would you perceive a gift of two sex slaves to mean?”
“From anyone else, a fucking awesome time,” Devlan snapped, his dread only building. Vesper’s demon master knew the boy was interested in someone at the Hierarchy and was probably searching for the culprit as they spoke. There was no way Evan wouldn’t be found.
“Your clan has a history,” Vesper continued. “Abilities and brutality that no one could match. A royal incubus—”
“My clan is peace loving and elven, Malice,” Devlan interrupted sharply. “The Black Lustre are dead and I am a poor consolation. If you think that I alone can go to war to protect one boy…” He exhaled heavily, pushing his bangs back. “You should have tried Asher.”
“Asher would gnaw off his own fucking foot before raising a hand to help another,” Vesper said lowly, his eyes burning. “Do you really think you’re safe from this, Devlan? Do you think HE is going to give a fuck that you aren’t interested in me?” He summoned the image of the two purple haired demons again, pointing to them both. “Count them, you dumbass. You get it now?”
Realizing what Vesper was getting at, Devlan spun, swearing loudly. “For the love of—Malice! Come one, why are you fucking up my fucking life?”
Vesper didn’t respond, instead pulling out another cigarette and moodily placing it between his lips. He lit the stick with a spark of magic, his gaze again returning to the angry incubus. “Sorry that this is so inconvenient for you. Now get it the fuck together and get him out of there—And seriously, go get laid already. What the hell are you doing to yourself?”
“What am I doing to myself? The question is, what the hell did he do to me!” Stomping up to the portal, Devlan poked the solid glass, glaring into Vesper’s eyes, only to sway dizzily. “I can’t feed. Every time I try, I see his fucking face. Nothing tastes the same now. Nothing is appealing since I kissed him. He’s cursed me or some shit and no matter what I do, I can’t break free.”
“Goddess, get it the fuck together.” Rolling his eyes, Vesper tapped on his side of the portal, Devlan blinking since the boy did it at eye level. “So you’re in love with the kid. All the more reason to save his ass and your own, while you’re at it.”
Devlan scowled. “I’m not in love. He cursed me.”
Vesper gave a sardonic smirk, smoke floating up around him. “Yeah? The kid that couldn’t cast a spell to save his life up and cursed you? That must have been one magical blowjob.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Devlan muttered, grinning despite himself while leaning on the glass. “You have yourself a nice time watching?” His eyes slid down to Vesper’s shoulders, focusing on the body that was hidden by the shielding spell right before him. “I’ve been wondering something, Malice, ever since I heard about your forced celibacy. Does that fucker get jealous of your hand? You have two really sexy hands and I’m sure they are all over your hot body every chance you get.”
His eyes narrowing, Vesper took the cigarette from his mouth. “When was the last time you actually fed?”
“You were there for it, dragon boy,” Devlan snapped, but less harshly this time. He couldn’t stop staring at the blond’s mouth—Annoying as fuck, given that Vesper was basically telling him his stupid-ass demon master was going to be looking to kill him.
“How the fuck are you even standing? I’ve never known an incubus to go longer than two days,” Vesper said, looking the boy up and down curiously. “You must be fifty kinds of desperate right now.”
“I’m telling you, that kid fucked me up. I’m going to starve to death,” Devlan grumbled, resting his face on the cool glass of the mirror. His lashes fluttering open, he added softly. “Let me see your hands.”
Shrugging, Vesper touched one of his hands to the glass. Devlan rolled his head towards it, sighing as pale fingers and a warm palm filled his vision. “Looking at you is such a tease, Malice. What a fucking waste of strength and beauty. The things I could have done to you.” He pressed his lips to the glass, sliding his tongue out over the cool surface where the blond’s palm rested.
“You’re seriously losing it. You need to feed before you fall into a coma.” His gaze assessing, Vesper placed his cigarette between his lips, his other hand reaching for the silver clasp of his robe. With sure fingers, he had the dark material sliding down his broad shoulders. Devlan watched intently, frowning when he found a t-shirt hiding most of the blond’s visible body from sight.
“I’ll make a deal with you, Devlan.” Vesper waved his hand down the front of the mirror, the shielding spell dispersing from his form. He was dressed in a pair of deep, blood red leather pants and a white t-shirt, the crimson color making his flesh seem even brighter in comparison. “I’ll save your starving ass if you take the energy I give you and put it towards protecting him. And don’t you give me some bullshit about peace-loving, tree-hugging, elven shit. I remember the last time we fought; I lost two of my baby teeth to you.”
“That was a long time ago and those fangs of yours still sliced the fuck out of my fist,” Devlan whispered, unable to turn away even though he wanted to. Vesper Malice was far more dangerous than any other being he had come across. It didn’t matter how hot the boy was, Devlan’s sense of self-preservation told him to stay the fuck away. Unfortunately, he was also very hungry and hadn’t been able to fight whatever compulsion was holding him back from feeding. It wasn’t love—Incubi didn’t get lovesick like some weak, fae race. If it was love, he’d be hornier, wanting to prove his sexual prowess and ability to protect his mate.
Devlan made a noise in the back of his throat when Vesper pulled his shirt up over his head, revealing an expanse of ice-snow flesh and rippling muscle. “Damn it, Malice. Is this going to get me killed?” He pressed harder against the glass, wishing he could port to the boy and so grateful that he couldn’t at the same time. Vesper was death. Beautiful, beautiful death.
“No more than what happened at the Hierarchy… I think.” Vesper paused, leaning his forehead against the glass where Devlan was resting so he could whisper in his ear. “My energy might mark you in some way. Either to me or to…” he trailed off, his gaze moving to his own hand for a moment. “If I could do this on my own, I would. As it is, I think you should warn the others that were there that morning—Who knows what the hellspawn has told him. Gilda, Asher, Corinth; you could all be in danger.”
Considering a moment, Devlan nodded his head at Vesper’s pants. “If we’re doing this, I want to see all of you.”
Sighing, Vesper glanced behind him. “Seriously?”
“Definitely.” Devlan had to wonder just what Vesper was blocking from his view. The boy would have had to be an idiot to be using some public portal for such a dangerous conversation and he had never thought of Vesper as dumb. “Full frontal. And I want you hard; energy means shit to me without that underlying pulse of sex.”
His eyes narrowed, Vesper took a final drag of his cigarette, then threw it to the ground. He bent to remove his boots, tossing them aside carelessly along with his socks. “I assume you’re expecting some sort of a show?”
Devlan grinned. “I wouldn’t say no to one. It would be nice to see what those sexy hands of yours can do. And something tells me this is the most action you’ve gotten in a while.”
His tongue licking one of his fangs, Vesper shrugged in agreement and unbuckled his belt. “Just keep the stupid comments down to a minimum. It’s a little difficult to focus right now.”
“Where are you?” Devlan blinked, his eyes focusing on a snowflake as it drifted into Vesper’s hair. “Is it snowing?”
“What did I say about stupid comments?”
Feeling decidedly tired, Devlan internally wondered if Vesper stripping and jacking off in the snow was a stupid question or not. Eventually, he decided it was really up to Vesper, seeing as it was the blond that was dealing with the harsh conditions, not him.
“Fuck.” Devlan whistled softly when the boy’s pants finally came off. He had always suspected that Malice was hiding something worth seeking under his array of leather and kilts. He just hadn’t expected it to be quite so large. “You sure you don’t have any incubus in you?”
After kicking off his pants, Vesper looked down to where Devlan was blatantly admiring his soft dick. “I’m sure, Devlan,” he muttered, rolling his eyes and grabbing his shaft, stroking it deliberately to hardness.
“Cus I’d be happy to put some incubus in you,” the brunette finished, grinning wickedly as he slid down the mirror, licking the surface and Vesper’s reflection.
“You are seriously making this difficult,” Vesper said with a sigh, his eyes straying down to where Devlan was kneeling and pretending to lick his cock and balls. Only to tilt his head, smirking slightly. “Actually, this might work. Look sexy and shut up a sec.”
Devlan had never actually been interested in something like portal sex. Considering his ability to dream hunt and lure in real life, it was much easier to just fuck his prey the proper way. But there was something decidedly interesting about watching Vesper Malice touch himself like the boy was just a window pane away, being able to see everything but knowing he could never touch. It very much suited the blond’s fucked up situation.
Devlan licked the mirror again, groaning when Vesper pressed forward on his own side, the flushed head of his cock grinding against the glass. “Fucking tease,” he muttered, peering up to find the blond grinning down shamelessly at him. The boy was fucking gorgeous from head to toe and Devlan was definitely reconsidering his stance on not fucking the toys of the demonic and jealous. “Pinch your nipples. Show me how much pain you like.”
His gaze growing darker, Vesper reached up with one hand, twisting at one of his pink buds with finger and thumb. He gave a soft grunt, his breathing growing more ragged as he pulled at his nipple sharply and continued to stroke the length of his thick shaft. “Okay,” he whispered after a minute, his tongue teasing out from between his lips to wet his flesh. “Touch the glass.”
“Why are you doing this?” Devlan asked, his voice growing hoarse the moment Vesper’s eyes began to glow. He wasn’t used to feeling like prey, but Vesper was definitely making him wonder if that wouldn’t be so bad either.
“To save him—Have you not been paying attention to anything, idiot?” Huffing, Vesper pressed two fingers to the mirror. “Tell me if you feel this.”
Jolting, Devlan gasped as power flowed from the point of contact and through the mirror, hitting him everywhere he was leaning against the surface. His head falling forward, he growled, his dick growing rock hard, fangs sharpening, and senses immediately alert. “Fuck, Vesper… Fuck.” The boy’s energy was beyond anything he had tasted before, blinding and alarming in its intensity.
“You like that?” Vesper asked, his expression making it clear he already knew the answer by the incubus’ response. “Tell me we have a deal, Devlan. I’ll give you so much energy, you’ll be high for a week. Just give me your oath that you’ll do what it takes to save him.”
Devlan didn’t answer right away, fighting with the lust and hunger spinning in him. Everything Vesper had said pointed to the immediate need to arm the fuck up and hole away until he could find some sort of safety from the boy’s demon master, but everyone knew you had to actually touch Heiden’s chosen to fear the demon hunting you down. No one had touched Vesper. No one. So why was the boy so certain Evan was as good as dead? Because of some sex slaves?
“What aren’t you telling me?” Devlan finally asked, glaring defiantly. “Did you touch him?”
“Never,” Vesper replied swiftly. “If I had, I would have killed Asher and ran off with the kid until we were both hunted down. I swear I didn’t touch him.”
“Aw, fuck.” No wonder Vesper thought he was in love with Evanel. Clearly the dragon boy was wallowing in the fucking miserable emotion. “You’re not going to kill me if I touch him, are you? Just how rational are you thinking right now, Malice? Has your exritus started?”
“Just fucking promise me, dumbass,” Vesper growled out, his fingers hovering inches from the glass. “There is no way you lose in this deal. Stop fucking things up with stupid thinking.”
“Like I’m supposed to just trust you?” Devlan stood and met the blond’s glare head on. “For all I know, you’re setting me up.”
“How is asking you to take care of him setting anyone up? Come on, Devlan, you’re the only one I can ask. You’re the only one that will do this.”
Gods, but didn’t that just sound fucking insane? “Why, you delusional, lovesick bastard? What the fuck would make you think that a fucking incubus would risk his life for a little tail?”
“Because he gives a fuck and you can’t stop thinking about him,” Vesper answered steadily, his expression daring Devlan to disagree. “You tried to be as obnoxious as possible and he still treated you like a fucking human being. You hated and loved it all at once, and now you’re obsessed.”
“Shut up,” Devlan muttered, covering his face with his hand. He didn’t want to think about Evan. He sure as fuck didn’t want to think about why he was like this. “Gods, I hate that angry fuck.”
Taking a calming breath, Vesper pitched his voice low. “Then make sure he’s alive so you can punish him for it. Just promise me, Devlan. Right fucking now.”
Growling, Devlan pushed his hair back, his teeth grit tight. “I give you my oath. I’ll do everything in my power to save him.”
Searching the incubus’ face, Vesper eventually nodded, satisfied. “Thank you. Touch the glass with both your hands. Brace yourself.”
Holding back a smart-ass remark on just how arrogant the boy could be at times, Devlan did as he was told. He had little doubt that Vesper had more than enough power to knock him out if he wanted.
“Hey, Malice, you have a really nice dick.”
Glancing from where he was concentrating his energy to his hands, Vesper raised a brow at him. “Okay, since we’re exchanging compliments, you looked particularly slutty when sucking dick. I’m pretty sure you’ve found your calling on your knees.”
Devlan flashed him a roguish grin, leaning forward until his lips were touching the glass. “I’m just saying; if you ever find yourself free of that monster—and I’m starting to think that might be the fucking case—I’ll be happy to share him with you.” He looked down, taking in Vesper’s fit form and still erect dick before settling back on the boy’s glowing blue eyes. “For real. I’m talking long-term bonding shit.”
Placing his hands on the mirror at the same level where Devlan’s were resting, Vesper leaned forward as well, his eyes burning into the incubus’. “Devlan, if I somehow live to break free of that bastard, you better fucking run. I will kill anyone that touches Evanel Reed, and that includes you.” Before the boy could respond, Vesper shot his collected energy out through his palms, Devlan shouting and arching from the sudden, intense current of power.
“Fucker… motherfucker…” Devlan gritted out, falling to his knees heavily, his hands sliding down the glass when the connection broke. When he was finally able to open his eyes, he found himself looking up at the portal from where he had unknowingly collapsed on the ground. His pants were ruined, his orgasm having ripped through him so violently, he wasn’t sure if he could even say he had enjoyed it. But he was definitely brimming with energy, of a power so bright, so wild feeling, it was hard to remember who he was before it.
Vesper was still there, staring down at the incubus, something dark and deadly in the boy’s eyes Devlan had never seen before. The rest of the shielding spell had faded from the blond’s output of power and Devlan could see the boy was indeed standing outside, snow piled around his bare feet and swirling in soft flakes through the air.
Beautiful death. His opinion of Vesper Malice still kept coming back to death.
“Save him, Devlan,” Vesper reminded, his eyes burning into the incubus’ blinking ones. “Don’t pussy out.”
“Jackass.” Glaring as best he could, Devlan slowly let his eyes close as they insisted on growing heavier. He felt the connection to the portal close off but he couldn’t move enough to care. Vesper’s energy had come with the unusual demand of sleep from his body. It was almost as powerful a pull as when he had fed off of Evan the first time.
Another reason to avoid the angry boy. Devlan had a list of many reasons to stay away from Evanel Reed. All he was going to readily ignore if only to find out what the fuck he had done to him.
Draven and Lilo sat together on the couch in Vesper’s main room. The place was cold, a frozen feel to the stone walls and floors. Draven said nothing when his brother scooted closer. The shifts they were dressed in held little protection from the chill of the room. There was a large soft fur on the couch but neither were daring enough to actually wrap it around them without permission.
“We need to come up with a plan.”
Draven glanced at his brother, then looked away.
The Vesper prince lived in a mix of opulence and stark minimalism. The stone walls of his chambers were decorated in fabrics of cold, blue tones nearly gray. The stripes of material fell from the ceiling to the floor. Matching drapes framed the tall windows in the same colors. There was no art in the room, unless you counted the shining weapons that glittered from every plane with deadly blades. Weapons Lilo no doubt was foolishly thinking of using while Draven was more concerned would be used against them.
“Draven, please. He’s been gone for ages. We need to come up with a plan.”
The ceiling above had carvings of dragons leering down from every corner. Things in this realm—this Earth—were not the same as their home. The things in this fortress were different from the ones in Heiden’s. Draven still could not tell if the statues were demons which fed off the scraps of the humans who lived among them, or truly just stone. Some stone could be animated with the right spell; but neither he or his brother were able to cast since the blasted collars were placed on their necks.
Lilo suddenly pressed against him, his chest to the bareness of his arm, lips hot against his ear. “I’m hungry. It has been days and he barely looks at me. I’m going to starve. You are going to starve.”
Draven’s lashes fluttered closed, blocking his red eyes from view of his brother warm against him. The one blessing in all this was their new master, Vesper Malice, showed no interest in them on any level. No one in the household had tried to touch them. “We have been hungry before.”
“I don’t want to die,” Lilo hissed in frustration at his brother’s ever cold expression. “We need to turn him our way. He is so distant. Unapproachable.”
“That’s good. It means he’s not hurting you,” Draven snapped.
“He doesn’t want to hurt me, stupid.” Lilo’s expression turned anxious. “He doesn’t want us. Will he give us back to Heiden? Have us killed? This is the nicest place so far. They let us eat with them, Draven. Like we’re the same. Equal.”
Draven growled low in his chest. Sure they fed them, but not food they could consume. “Do not grow complacent. We will escape these humans and their planet.” Why wouldn’t Lilo just let it die? Why did he want to be some damn sex slave when before he was resistant? Draven did not like this change in his brother and was quick to blame the platinum haired, glowing skinned monster they were now to serve. The collar around his neck might of blocked his magical ability but it did nothing to stop his senses. There was something terrifying about this Vesper Malice.
Lilo bit his lower lip as he gazed at the brand burned into the flesh on his brother’s neck. The collar only half obscured the ugly mark from view. They were going to marked as slaves forever, no matter where they went. “We need to get him to like us,” he said, his voice lower in an attempt to compel. “We need to… Well. You know why they kept us together. We’re going to have to…”
“Quiet,” Draven muttered. His eyes snapped open, staring straight into Lilo’s for a long, breathless moment before he looked away. Draven didn’t want to think about anyone touching Lilo, certainly not himself. Out of the two of them, Lilo was kind, shining, quite perfect in all ways. No one had a right to ruin that.
Growling softly, Lilo stood and gave an annoyed huff. “I’m hungry.”
“Then hunt.”
Lilo wrinkled his nose in disgust. Draven couldn’t blame him. The living beings on this planet all seemed to be covered in heavy fur or feathers. Sinking fangs in was more a mess than feast, and they never tasted right. The cooked food might have a more palatable flavor but the life force was completely gone from it by that point. He could almost understand his brother’s interest in drinking desire instead; the humans looked somewhat similar, their skin very soft and the scent, although different, appealing.
Draven paused in his thoughts while he teased a tongue over a fang. Actually, maybe that was the solution. He hadn’t actually tasted human flesh or blood. Perhaps they were surrounded by food after all. There were certainly enough humans from what he’d heard of the huge population bent on filling every corner of their globe.
“Do you think they taste good?” He voiced curiously.
Lilo rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You’d rather eat them alive? They’re sentient.”
Draven shrugged. “They stole us from our home, our planet, chained us, and want us to be sex slaves. I can’t help that they’re idiots. There are so many of them. They need something to cull their numbers or the planet will be overrun with the fools.”
Lilo glared down at his brother, his blue eyes flashing. The horn on his head had taken a sharper point, a sign he was growing either hungry or angry. In this case, both. “I’m hungry, Draven.”
“I heard you the first time. And all the other times you continue to complain.”
Lilo fought back a snarl. His expression turned calculating, and with a flourish, he pulled the ugly shift over his head and threw it to the ground. He regretted it immediately; the place was just so cold. That was until he heard Draven’s breath hitch on seeing his clothing at his feet.
Lilo knelt on the couch, watching his brother’s face who refused to look in his direction. He leaned closer and leaned his chin on Draven’s shoulder. “You’re going to stop being so stubborn and help us get fed.”
“I can hold him down if you want to slice his throat,” Draven said impassively. Still, his eyes glanced toward him a moment. “Put your wings away. You know it’s offensive.”
Lilo scowled. “I hate you.”
Maybe he did. Draven was certain his curse was the only reason they were on this stupid planet in the first place. Maybe his brother had every reason to blame him for their circumstances.
Lilo’s lips brushed the point of his ear ever so lightly, and Draven froze. He breathed out slowly and tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed.
“Draven?”
“What?” Draven muttered.
“I could never hate you.” Lilo’s lips pressed again, this time deliberately to his ear.
Relief spread warm in his gut and replaced the hunger that he’d been dutifully ignoring. “That’s because you’re an idiot,” he whispered.
“You know I’m not.”
Heat touched to Draven’s neck and he resisted the urge to smack his very much idiot of a brother. He opened his mouth to say something hopefully cutting enough to send Lilo away from him—his stupid kisses were becoming very distracting—but stopped when he heard a noise.
Lilo tensed, his head ducking so his purple locks obscured his face. “It’s him.”
Draven didn’t bother answering. Vesper’s energy was very easy to recognize, monstrous in its amount. A drop of his blood might have been a meal with a life force as strong as his.
“Help me, Draven,” Lilo pleaded softly in his ear. “I want to feed. I don’t want to go back to that hideous creature who could snap us to pieces.”
Lilo seemed blind to just what he was asking, something Draven found beyond frustrating. “You’re my brother.”
“So?” Lilo’s mouth traced down his neck and his tongue teased at the top of his shoulder. “It’s not as though anyone is here to care.”
Draven inhaled roughly. “So, you’re ugly and stupid.”
Lilo’s outraged snarl was cut off by the door to the room opening. “You’re an ass,” he whispered in his brother’s ear before he straightened and faced their new master.
Draven couldn’t help but glare at Vesper, this time more cutting than before. Bad enough Lilo was standing with his wings out, not a stitch of clothing on, but Vesper was saturated in sex. The scent swirled around him more tangible than the dark cloak he slipped from his shoulders.
Vesper looked up to find both demons staring at him. Frowning, he glanced to the walls, clearly checking to make sure none of the weapons were missing. Draven had to give him credit; he wasn’t a complete fool.
“M-Master… I was… uh, wonderment…” Lilo stumbled over the foreign words, his cheeks turning red. “You are tired and…”
Realizing what he was doing, Draven stood and immediately blocked Lilo from Vesper’s view. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed under his breath. “You know nothing of him.”
“I’m hungry,” Lilo insisted with a glare. “And he smells really good.”
Lilo pushed his brother aside and addressed Vesper again. “Your bed must be chilled with one…”
“Do not!” Draven snarled, ready to wrestle his brother to the ground if it would stop him from making a whore of himself.
Lilo was tired of being interrupted and pulled his arm free when Draven tried to grab him. “I will not starve. If you’re not hungry, fine. I won’t die like this!”
“You are hardly dead!” Thin, certainly. Draven’s gaze moved down his brother’s lithe body inadvertently, his face hot with emotion to find Lilo half hard. His words failed him and Lilo had no problem slipping around him and daring a few steps closer to Vesper’s silent form.
“W-We have been learned too… uh, give… um…” He looked at Vesper helplessly, unable to remember the right word.
Draven growled from behind him. “I told you you’re too stupid for this.”
“Enough,” Vesper said, both jolting to hear him use their language. “Go to the kitchen if you’re hungry. Preferably in clothes,” he added while sweeping past the two into his bedroom.
“He’s hard,” Lilo whispered into Draven’s ear. “Did you see?”
“Shut up,” Draven muttered. Vesper’s sex scent had filled the room with his walk through and Draven was feeling too hot all of a sudden. “Don’t!” he hissed when Lilo suddenly darted away and followed to Vesper’s door.
Lilo licked his lips when he reached the door to Vesper’s bedroom. The scent was stronger here, enticing and warming after so much cold. It didn’t hurt that his new master was beautiful and fierce, with a piercing gaze that sent shivers through him every time he looked his way. Lilo’s small, bat-like wings gave a flutter in anticipation as he pressed up to the heavy, wooden door. He heard his brother hiss behind him, clearly offended with his daring. He didn’t care; he was hungry and Vesper had more than enough energy to share.
Breathing in deep, Lilo pulled away from the door far enough to be able to knock.
“What?” an annoyed voice barked from the other side. Vesper really didn’t seem to like them much at all. Lilo knew Draven was relieved by it, but he only found it frustrating. He needed this new master to make sure they lived and Vesper couldn’t even spare a kind word toward them.
Afraid his brother might sneak up behind him and ruin everything, Lilo decided his only option was to be bold. “May I speak with you?”
Silence stretched and Lilo strained to hear what answer would come. There was a click and the door swung open.
Draven growled behind him. Lilo’s eyes went wide. He quickly slipped through the gap before his brother could stop him.
Vesper was doing his best not to look at the young man trembling in front of his door. He hung his cloak up and peered into his closet silently. He wished he hadn’t already taken his shirt off, wished he hadn’t unlocked the door. His skin was prickling with every breath Lilo took. His scent of desire was strong even from across the room. It was bad timing for this—fuck, having anyone in his room was never a good thing since Heiden. More so after talking to Devlan earlier that evening.
Damn it, he was horny. Impossibly horny. Feeding Devlan did something to him he didn’t expect. Vesper didn’t know if it was because he held back so much and letting out all this energy was setting him off, or it was because whatever was growing in him was getting stronger. It felt like it was getting stronger. Ever since learning of the prophecy, he couldn’t stop thinking of the wicked, monstrous thing possibly consuming his soul even now. It seemed the way of the shining face god to consume a host from the inside out until he was left insane and deadly powerful.
Vesper glared at his clothing and quickly pulled a robe free. He didn’t want to think of that. He didn’t want to think of how he meant every word when staring into Devlan’s dazed, hungry eyes.
“You understand me, yes master?”
Vesper bit back a sigh and glanced to the side where Lilo edged his way. “Yes. Now put this on.” This was difficult enough without the damn demon being naked in his room. He was slim, toned, with a rose tint to his skin far too interesting to his senses at the moment.
Lilo hesitated before stepping over, his feet barely making any noise as he walked. “It’s very nice,” Lilo said when Vesper placed the spidersilk robe in his grasp. The material was smooth like cool water and flowed over his skin. Lilo shivered from the touch on his arms as he held it.
“If you like it, I can have something made for you. The two of you,” Vesper said tightly. “I’m sorry. I should have thought of it earlier. I’ve been distracted.” Thinking of his death. Thinking of preventing Evan’s death. Wondering if he would truly kill Devlan if he so much as touched Evan again.
He would. He would kill him in a heartbeat.
He was losing his mind.
“You seem distressed,” Lilo whispered, his eyes following the way Vesper’s hands kept opening and clenching into fists. “Are you unwell?”
Vesper didn’t have an answer he felt comfortable speaking. He felt like he was going to snap at any moment and this foolish demon wouldn’t go away and give him the solitude he desperately needed. It was driving him mad.
A hand, cool and small, touched his arm and Vesper whirled and jerked away. “Don’t,” he gasped as adrenaline shot through him. He hadn’t imagined it. Lilo’s hand was still reaching toward him, frozen in midair as he stared up at him in confusion.
“Did I harm…?”
Vesper shook his head and his vision dimmed at the edges. Fuck, he touched him. He fucking touched him. “You should go. I shouldn’t have—you need to leave,” he bit out. Heiden would know. Would know and kill him. One light touch and he doomed this demon who was… “Are you crying?” Vesper blinked rapidly, pulled from his frantic thoughts by the tears in Lilo’s bright blue eyes. “Why are you…?”
Lilo’s tears spilled free, twin streaks wetting his cheeks moments before he ducked his head and sobbed into the robe he was holding. Vesper could only watch, at a loss of what to do. He had no idea what to do and could not understand the way his gut twisted in demand he do something to stop this confusing display.
“Can I… Can I get you something?” Vesper’s hand came up to comb agitatedly through his hair. He resisted the urge to actually reach out and touch Lilo’s arm, although it seemed like it might be the right thing to do in such a situation. Maybe rub his back? It was so long since he was allowed to touch another, he truly couldn’t say.
His bedroom door slammed open. The gray skinned demon charged in, his red eyes full of rage when he caught sight of his brother crying.
“Lilo?” Draven stalked across the room, his glare fixed challengingly on Vesper. “What did he do to you?”
To the best of Vesper’s knowledge, he didn’t do a damn thing and found the presumption insulting. Lilo gave a greater sob when his brother touched his shoulder. He turned and buried his face against his neck.
“Lilo, what’s wrong?”
“I’m hungry,” Lilo mumbled. His forehead rested against Draven’s cheek. “So hungry.”
“Let me get you food,” Vesper said with an exasperated growl. “If you actually bother to eat it.”
“Your food is too dead to consume.” Draven’s voice was gruff as he glanced Vesper’s way, then turned to his brother. He gently wiped Lilo’s cheek with his thumb and sighed at the dazed look on his face. “He needs something living to sustain him. Dead things cannot feed us.”
“And you waited this long to tell someone?” Vesper stopped himself, too loud and full of frustration. He took a deep breath. “I thought you fed each other. You’re both demons; can’t you feed each other?”
Lilo sniffled and pressed his lips to his brother’s neck. Draven closed his eyes a moment and sank into the feeling despite his best efforts. “You hate me,” Lilo whispered. “You’re always so mean.”
Draven ignored the cruel and somewhat true words. “I’m too weak to feed him. The same of him for me. If we were stronger it might be different, but we haven’t eaten properly in months.”
“Feed me,” Lilo murmured. He sighed as he rubbed his face against his brother’s jaw. “You’re always stronger.”
“You’re hysterical, idiot.” Draven’s hands flew down to stop Lilo’s hips from rocking against him.
Vesper growled to himself as the implications of what Draven said. They were there for days, starving, and hadn’t told a damn soul.
What, was he truly expecting two slaves to sit down and have a conversation with him about their welfare and the best ways to keep them healthy and happy? Was that a conversation he could ever hope to have with Heiden? Damn, he left them in rags, starving, while well aware they were terrified of him, and he hadn’t given a thought to any of it.
Vesper narrowed his eyes and turned. He stalked to a heavy cabinet of polished wood which took up a large part of his wall. Rummaging through, he returned with a dagger. Draven snarled on seeing it and whirled so he was between him and Lilo.
“He’s only hungry. You don’t need to kill him!”
“How is it we’re speaking the same language but you can’t understand simple things?” Vesper shot back. The demon’s fear was more frustrating because a part of him knew he was to blame. He could have talked to them, could have made himself approachable. Now he was left trying to repair something he already broke in his disregard.
Holding the dagger up, Vesper quickly sliced it down his palm. He hissed when the blade bit his flesh. Crimson bloomed and quickly dripped down his fingers. Vesper turned his hand so his blood pooled in his palm.
“Here.” He stepped forward with hand outstretched.
Draven stared at the offering warily, his nostrils flared to pick up the scent. “Wait,” he growled when Lilo tried to get around him. “It’s not… It’s not safe.”
Vesper glared. “Of course it’s safe. What, you think I’m made of poison? It’s just blood. I know your type get life force from it.”
Draven didn’t answer. His senses were open as he continued to stare. There was too much power in Vesper’s blood. It glowed brighter than any he’d seen before. It felt dangerous, like a trap. “I don’t…” He gasped when Lilo hip checked him sideways, his brother’s eyes dazed with hunger. “Lilo, don’t!”
Lilo didn’t seem to hear. His bare feet led him quickly to Vesper’s waiting form. Vesper hesitated when Lilo reached for him, going so far as to take a step back.
“Just… you don’t want to touch me.” Vesper thought a moment, then held his hand up. “Let it drip down.” Lilo craned his head back, mouth open to catch the blood.
“No,” Draven surged forward and pulled him back. Lilo snarled in frustration in his hold. “No. We will go hungry.”
“Draven!” Lilo finally had a proper meal in sight and let his claws grow. He slashed behind him. Draven hissed when talons raked his side and caught at his arm. His own strength was compromised from hunger, not that he would dare admit it to his brother.
Lilo broke free and didn’t look back. He crossed the few steps and grabbed Vesper’s arm and pulled it to his level. Vesper tried to protest, but fell silent the moment Lilo’s mouth closed over the wound on his palm. Heat flooded him in a wave and Vesper grabbed at a bureau behind him to keep from swaying.
Vesper watched, feeling almost as hungry as the demon desperately sucking at his blood. Lilo held him roughly, his fangs nipping to force more blood free which his tongue then lapped in long strokes to drink down. It took everything Vesper had not to grab him, not to switch their positions and take what he wanted from Lilo’s slim body. It would be easy enough—the collar on the demon’s neck made things very easy—and the blood scent in the air was making the idea seem all the more better.
Lilo sighed into his palm and his movements began to slow. With dazed blue eyes, he glanced up at Vesper and leaned against him. His tongue continued to tease slow licks over his hand broken only by content, sated sighs.
Vesper tugged at his hand and Lilo readily followed. He pulled him until their lips were inches apart and he could smell the unique scent of his skin. “Better?”
Lilo’s breath stuttered, his gaze caught in Vesper’s glowing stare. Blood was wet on his lips and Vesper’s eye were drawn down and then to the side where Draven had fallen. He was rigid in anxiety, red eyes wide as he stared up at his brother.
Draven slowly got to his feet, wary as he looked from Lilo to Vesper. Vesper held still when he came up cautiously to speak into his brother’s pointed ear. “Are you okay? Lilo? Did he…?”
Lilo’s movements were hard to track. One moment he was staring at Vesper, the next his eyes flashed with mischief into Draven’s. Draven snarled and stumbled back, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid Lilo’s blood coated tongue as it dove into his mouth.
“Ass… Stupid ass…” Draven swayed forward, crouched over as he tried to wipe the blood away. Heat ran through him like a drug and his movements turned sluggish. He clawed weakly at his neck and left red lines on his gray flesh. “Divine,” he whispered. “Vesper prince tastes divine.”
Lilo went back to licking Vesper’s cut, his breath ragged with each touch of tongue. Vesper was trying to ignore the thoughts in his head, the pulse burning through his body. Lilo was such a slight, slender thing. Both of them. Powerless with the collars. Beings he should have wanted to protect but at the moment could only see so easily defiled.
“You shouldn’t have touched me.” Vesper ducked his head so he could breathe in Lilo’s scent. “You’ve made your situation worse.” He made everything worse with his blood feeling so hot in his veins.
His breath hitched when Lilo’s teeth teased the flesh of his palm. It was a controlled bite, gentle. When he looked down, Lilo was peering up through purple lashes. His eyes had turned dark, pupils wide. His tongue was hot as he deliberately licked up his hand.
“No one touches you,” Lilo kissed into his skin. It was more an observation than a question, and Vesper nodded in reply. He was overly aware of Lilo’s breath, the heat from his naked body and the scent of his flesh. He closed his eyes when Lilo step forward and pressed up against him, sharp angles and hard cock grinding against his body. Vesper realized Lilo had a tail when it unwound from the demon’s thigh and wrapped around his waist to hold him tighter. Lilo’s mouth grew more ferocious. He no longer sought blood as he kissed and sucked up Vesper’s arm, nipped at his bicep, licked at his shoulder and kissed along his collarbone. Vesper breathed deep as Lilo moved down to his chest, his hands exploring where his mouth soon followed.
Inside, Vesper was at war with himself. This would get the demons killed, he knew as much. But then, they were dead anyways. Anyone connected to him was dead because of Heiden. Like Evan. Vesper exhaled slowly. The feelings he associated with Evan rose up in him, overwhelming and hungry. He couldn’t even touch him. He found someone who made him feel more than just a trapped victim and he couldn’t even touch his hand, kiss his lips.
Lilo’s hands soothed down his chest, fingers clutching as he explored Vesper’s muscular stomach. His mouth was wet as he kissed up his throat, then his chin, falling too short of his target.
“A little,” Vesper whispered as he tilted his head down and Lilo’s lips found his. “Just a little.”
Lilo’s claws pricked at his hips and he gasped from the sensation. Lilo’s eyes were full of want when Vesper gazed down into them. He couldn’t count how many times he’d seen that expression in so many sets of eyes fixed on him. He’d seen it less than an hour ago in Devlan’s eyes and wondered just what it would feel like to damn him as well with just one touch.
If he were a selfish man, an insane man, it would be easy to damn anyone to Heiden’s wrath. Fucking Devlan to do it would be appealing in its own right. Having Devlan on his knees, begging him forgiveness for daring to so much as touch his Evanel…
“Lilo.” Draven’s senses were recovered enough for him to return. He wrapped his arms around his brother’s shoulders and tried to pull him back, but his movements lacked coordination or focus. “You’re not like this.”
Lilo’s smile was sated and eyelids heavy as he turned to his brother and grabbed one of the arms around his neck. “He tastes good. You taste good, Draven.”
“You’re not… You’re not yourself,” Draven mumbled as Lilo kissed him clumsily, their lips sliding together, fangs pinching for a moment.
“I am. You’re the one who keeps saying I’m someone else.” Lilo kissed him deeper, his tongue stroking into his mouth. “I’m me, not you.”
Vesper gaze slid down, following the way Lilo’s claws tore into Draven’s thin shift and shredded the material. Draven pulled from the kiss, his dazed eyes sparking with anger when his brother tried to tear the rest of his clothing off. “Lilo, you’re not thinking…” Draven cut off with a groan when Vesper stepped forward and pressed his bloody palm to his mouth.
“You’re hungry, yes?” Vesper couldn’t stop himself, the room growing hotter with every hungry lick to his skin. With his free hand he gently peeled the ragged fabric off of Draven’s body and tossed it to the ground. The twins were nearly identical except for the blue gray tint to Draven flesh, his nipples and flushed dick a deeper shade of the same. He was similar to Lilo in stature but Draven’s muscles were more defined, his cock thicker and dripping clear fluid.
Draven whimpered against Vesper’s palm. He tried to pull away but instead his lips kept sliding into the red fluid. “Your power… you would control us,” he panted out.
“With blood?” Vesper raised an eyebrow and smeared the thinning scarlet down Draven’s chin and then his throat. “Are you controlled by your food?”
Draven shook his head weakly. “No. But you make everyone prey.” He moaned when Lilo slipped between them and began to clean the blood from his skin with sultry licks of his tongue.
Draven grasped at his brother’s silky locks, his fingers slipping until he got a proper hold. Lilo grinned wickedly as his head was wrenched back and Draven surged forward and sucked and nipped at his throat and down his chest. Vesper couldn’t look away, not with how Lilo was arching and gasping for more while his brother seemed determined to give him everything he wanted in punishment. They were beautiful together, raw, confident but still learning of what the other liked.
His life could have been like this. A pile of beautiful bodies twined and sweaty, moaning in need and soft sighs every night in his bed chambers. He could have woken to hands, lips, and an end to the insatiable hunger which clawed inside. It should have been like this. Such bodies were meant to touch, meant to hold, and despair at every parting.
Lilo snickered softly, his face an expression of bliss as he turned in his brother’s hold. Draven was quick to direct his kisses to his nape and shoulders, trying to cover Lilo in as much of his scent as possible. Lilo twined his narrow arms around Vesper’s neck and pulled him closer. Vesper closed his eyes and breathed deep as Lilo’s mouth returned to licking his chest, then to teasing his nipple. Tears prickled at his eyes a moment and Vesper growled them away.
Did Heiden think to keep him alone would somehow make his monstrous touch bearable? Or was it just to hurt him in all ways? It felt a thawing of his heart, a cracking of joints and muscle when Vesper dared to raise his hand and touch down Lilo’s side. Lilo panted against his chest, rocked forward and ground their erections together. Vesper growled for a different reason, his hand gripping Lilo’s hip and pulling him up harder against him.
When Vesper’s eyes blinked open, he found Draven staring at him, his red gaze studying his face from behind his brother’s slim shoulder. He was more lucid than Lilo, but still susceptible. Vesper could pull him if he wanted to. He could easily see the beautiful, gray skinned demon moaning in want, ready to do anything he asked. Vesper licked his lips, his breath freezing when Lilo’s teeth nipped at his throat and tongue soothed a hot path down.
He wanted to. Goddess, he really did.
They were dead the moment Heiden chose the two for him. Why should their last days be of fear and loneliness? Why should his? Why shouldn’t they all just enjoy these moments now, together, entwined and sated?
Vesper cupped Lilo’s cheek and tilted him up to meet his gaze. “The bed,” he ordered softly and let his power flow into the words. “I want to see you fuck your brother.”
Lilo’s eyes glowed a moment, a strange inner light matching the demand of Vesper’s call. Lilo suddenly laughed in glee when Draven pulled him back against him to get him away from Vesper. Lilo wiggled in his arms, twisted, and gripped his brother around the waist. Draven gasped, surprised when Lilo lifted him and carried him toward the bed.
Vesper wasn’t surprised by the lack of fight, not with the collars or the way Lilo had been staring at Draven since they got there. It was far different from the battle of wills with Devlan or Evan’s frustrating ability to completely ignore his call. He inhaled sharply as he thought of Evan again. It was like a spark lighting fire to his veins every time he remembered him. Evan’s scent, his glare, the pure despair that saturated him deeper than even Vesper’s own misery.
Vesper approached the bed, his gaze moving down Lilo’s smooth back, flexing muscles and swishing tail. He had his brother pinned. Draven’s growl was half-hearted at best, his resistance softening with each kiss of Lilo’s mouth and the slide of their flesh. It was the closest to Vesper’s fantasies of watching others touch. Even in his mind, he never dared participate. It was just too dangerous to give in to such thoughts. To want was to eventually have, and to have would ruin so many. Only once had Vesper’s emotions gotten the best of him and that was at the Hierarchy. He wanted Evan so much, nothing would stop him.
Vesper slid fingertips lightly down the swell of Lilo’s ass, his mood dark with discontent the more he thought of Evanel. Why couldn’t he be satisfied with what he’d been given? He had so little joy; why couldn’t he be happy with the two twisting in his bed? They weren’t him. They weren’t Evan—the guy he barely knew but couldn’t stop obsessing over a week later after one brief meeting.
Lilo moaned, his cry pulling Vesper from his thoughts. He found his palm hot on the demon’s ass. He gripped tighter and pulled Lilo back, his hands sliding down his thighs to urge them open. His inner thigh was softer beneath his fingertips. Lilo trembled and his breath came out in fast pants. He rocked back so his shoulders were tight to Vesper’s chest and his hair tickled his nose.
“You want him?” Vesper’s mouth teased at Lilo’s purple strands.
“Yes. So much.” Lilo grasped his wrist and lifted his hand up so he could pull the half healed wound to his mouth. He licked at the drying blood, his eyes closed. “Make him want me. Please, master. We can have him together.”
Vesper inhaled sharply at the quiet plea while Draven groaned. He looked down to find the red eyed demon staring up beneath heavy eyelids. His expression was full of apprehension quelled by the heavy weight of his hard cock.
“I don’t need to make him.” Vesper raised his gaze back up, lingering on Draven’s mouth as he wet his lips. “You want him, don’t you?” He already knew the answer. They both reeked of arousal for each other. It was impossible not to want Lilo no matter how protective his brother tried to be.
The lack of angry retort was more telling than anything else. Draven’s eyes moved to his brother whose gaze was fixed on his rigid cock. Lilo’s hands explored down and teased between Draven’s thighs. Draven moaned when Lilo bent down and kissed his shaft and his tongue slid out to wet every inch of the hard flesh. Draven sank back onto the bed, dazedly watching as Lilo bobbed and sucked up and down the length of his shaft and his tongue flicked out to tease every drop of precum he could free.
Vesper returned to stroking the flesh of Lilo’s thigh, his hand sliding up to cup his balls and explore the soft flesh that led between his cheeks. He kissed down his back between his wings, lips lingering as he breathed in deep of the demon’s unique scent and their arousal mixed together. Evan’s face again flashed in his mind’s eye and with a growl, he pulled away.
Lilo looked back with a mix of want and concern. The two demons were beautiful, eager, Vesper’s eyes moving down to take them in. He must do this to himself. He was just determined to ruin what little happiness he could have.
At Lilo’s continued stare, Vesper smiled as assuringly as he could. He nodded to Draven. “Show me how you want him. You’re beautiful together. I want to see.”
Lilo blushed. His eyes sparkled and delicate wings flexed as he turned back. He licked down Draven’s stomach and quickly took his cock into his mouth. Draven hissed, his fingers tangling into his brother’s hair as he thrust up into his dripping mouth. Lilo used his tail to wrap around Draven’s thigh and push his leg up. He pressed his thumb to Draven’s entrance, claws dulled to tease the twitching hole while he licked and sucked his swollen tip.
Groaning, Draven threw his head back as fingers stretched into his passage. Lilo released his cock, his eyes tight on his brother’s face as he jerked and twisted on the bed.
Vesper watched, hard, wanting and frustrated with himself. The sexual energy rose around them like a perfume but he felt not compulsion to drink from it. He was made for sex. His allure existed so he could build up and feed off desire if he chose it. Just like these demon fae. If not for Heiden, he would have grown his power in all ways without hesitation.
“Lilo. Please,” Draven gasped out, his face flushed and lips parted.
Lilo melted down, his mouth sealing to Draven’s as he settled between his raised knees. “Now?”
“Yes… fuck.” Draven groaned as Lilo pushed inside his clenching flesh, his head falling back and hands clutching the sheets.
Lilo sheathed deeper, his breath shallow as he grasped the bed for leverage and slowly filled Draven’s passage. He was already close, shaking, their need swirling in the air. “You feel me,” Lilo murmured as he took a breath. He brushed his brother’s hair from his face so he could see his eyes.
Draven nodded, sweat dripping down his chin. He reached up and fisted Lilo’s hair and pulled him down into another kiss. Their horns just missed as Lilo gasped and thrust deeper. “Harder,” Draven growled. “I want to feel all of you.”
Vesper pulled at his own hair fitfully, his eyes raking over the scene of the two. Heiden wasn’t there. There was no consequence worse to wrought at this point. Just to taste the energy would be nothing. He knew it but he couldn’t bring himself to reach out. All he could remember was the feel of Evan’s energy touching his and for one impossible moment, their souls brushed.
“Damn it… Goddess, I am damned.” The memory faded from his body and Vesper was left feeling cold and confused.
He whirled, stalked away from the bed and paced back. Draven and Lilo were twined together, heaving for air with cum slick between them. Draven’s hand lazily slid down his brother’s back, sliding through the sheen of sweat to caress his ass. Lilo lifted his head to look back at Vesper in silent appeal.
“It’s cold here,” Lilo said when Vesper made no move to join them.
“Yes… I’ll have some clothes made for you.” Vesper thought to get the robe left on the floor but Lilo reached his tail out and caught his before he could turn. There was no strength in his pull but Vesper allowed himself to be drawn closer.
“Will you take off your clothes?” Lilo looked up at him with a near pleading expression in his eyes. “Lay with us? Keep us warm?”
Vesper shook his head even as his mind swirled with dark thoughts once again. He saw it reflected in the wariness of Draven’s eyes when Lilo managed to pull him down so Vesper was laid out beside them on the bed.
Lilo’s eyes gleamed as he stared at Vesper’s chest, then down to where his erection tented his red leather pants. “Can I touch you?” He reached down to rub his bulge, but Vesper caught his wrist and gently led it away.
“I think I’ve caused enough harm tonight.” Vesper closed his eyes as he felt the truth of his words.
What selfish beast was growing inside of him? He just damned these two. Possibly Devlan, possibly Asher, Gilda, Corinth, and his parents. Certainly Evan. The corpses were piling up at his feet because he lacked the self control to stop himself.
Vesper rolled to the side, away from Lilo’s fingers brushing across his features. No, not because of a lack of self control. He had self control. He was nothing if not his self control. He let something else grow inside him. Something selfish who wished to live and have pleasure, and with it, he damned everyone he touched.
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t wait to ensure Devlan followed through and Evan was safe. He pledged his death to the shadow faced god and it was time he delivered.
“That’s where we train.” Gilda pointed to a clearing near the outskirts of her village.
Devlan’s eyes followed and took in the cluster of sirens beneath the colorful canopies of cloth used to mark the clearing. Some were grappling barehanded while others watched, cheered, and lounged in the packed dirt waiting for their turn. It was late afternoon and it seemed most of the activity was done, replaced with the feeding happening at the base of the waterfall.
There weren’t a lot of structures on the top of the plateau. Most were built into the sides of the canyon, accessible by ladders, carved stairs and the complex tunnel system. At the top, Devlan found the area dusty and exposed to the elements. Beyond the coarse grass and scruffy brush that grew around the river, there were giant trees whose root system reached seemingly miles to get their needed nourishment. But even the huge sequoia seemed dwarfed by the rest of the land, flat orange earth that seemed to stretch out forever golden dust glow.
“The school is behind them, the large building. We learn of the world there beyond the battles.”
“And sorcery?” Devlan had seen little magic from the sirens so far. Some fae, magic was so deeply ingrained, to walk was to command the elements to move beneath their feet. Besides the allure the beautiful women used against their prey, he’d seen little of the power when it came to the village.
“There is a place for that as well,” Gilda said with a nod. “A temple by the tower. Only a few of us have the gift enough to expand on it. Our Clan has been away from the Arc Fault for too long.”
“That’s nonsense superstition,” Devlan said with a pointed look.
Gilda shrugged and led him back into the soft pine needles beneath the giant trees and toward the cliff face that was the center of her village. The summer heat was only starting to abate as the sun sank for the horizon. Gilda was dressed in an orange leather tanktop tied around her neck. She wore a matching short skirt with a stripe of light gray fur trim that ran down the front. The leather was tattered at the edges and tickled her thighs as she walked. The feathers in her hair were switched out to match the deep orange and joined a few sparkling gold beads to glitter among her long dreadlocks. She was barefoot, toe rings and an array of hand-braided anklets decorating her otherwise bare legs. The blades on her back were the same as the ones she wore when visiting the Hierarchy and looked at home as she moved easily with the deadly weapons.
“The Elders speak of a time when all of Siren’s children were feathered and glorious in power.” Gilda teased one of her dirty-blond dreadlocks forward and ran her thumb down the feather decorating it. “We have no wings, Devlan. Not any more. It’s easy for you to claim superstition when your Clan came straight from the Arc Fault. You’re the only one left yet you’re powerful enough for the Hierarchy. It’s no coincidence. Power stays in the source and the gods bless those who live there.”
“Coming from the clan with two chosen just this year.” Devlan scoffed and grabbed Gilda’s upper arm. He ducked his head low so they couldn’t be overheard by anyone walking by. “You know as well as I power has been fading as far back as the books go. If the source is the fae gods, then they’re all dead.”
“It is the gate,” Gilda muttered back, her glare tight on his mocking expression. “All power came through the portals and now it doesn’t flow. Gods don’t die.”
Devlan’s expression changed, something dark flashing in his eyes for a moment. “The ones on the Arc Fault aren’t all powerful, Gilda. They’re not gods just because they have a plot of land close to a portal. They die, just like everyone else.”
Gilda sighed when he pulled away and started walking. “I was not speaking of your Clan.”
“But it’s true,” Devlan said after a moment, the bitterness nearly gone from his voice by the time she caught up to him. “Look at that snot-nosed elf who grew up on the continent. Do you really think he could best you in a true battle? He didn’t have a spark of bloodlust in him to suggest he even understands a weapon.”
Gilda didn’t look convinced. “They are warriors there. More powerful than anything this earth has seen. They have protected the gate for ages, gifted by the gods to…”
Devlan growled under his breath and Gilda trailed off with a glare. “Do not speak so highly of a place and people you have never met. They are no fucking different and your hero worship is disgusting. You hold the same amount of fae blood as they do. Stop putting them above you just because of the place of their birth. It’s the same fucking planet.”
Gilda pursed her lips, her eyes fixed on two young sirens staring at them up ahead. She pushed Devlan sideways so they would walk around them and not be heard. “You know you’re speaking blasphemy. Could you be less loud about it?”
“Fuck your Clan’s idea of blasphemy,” Devlan shot back, but he did at least lower his voice. “How can I have a rational conversation with you if you speak from texts instead of experience? For all we know, your goddess decided wings were so last millennium and phased them out. Fuck, maybe one of the Children of the Light came down and slaughtered my clan because he had a grudge against…”
Gilda slapped her hand over his mouth and stared him down. “You are insane to speak their names in such a way. You’re asking to be cursed.”
Devlan pulled her hand from his mouth. “You’re afraid of shadows long dead. They came to this planet and fucked. That’s all. They had sex and bared children and didn’t even hang around to see if their descendants lived. It’s hardly worthy of a damn altar every five feet.”
“They are the source of all power—Damn it. I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.” Gilda turned away, her hand combing through her dreads fitfully.
“Fine. I can say the same of you,” Devlan muttered and buried his hands into his long leather jacket. He was dressed all in black, his preferred monotone of color. The heat didn’t bother him as much as the sun did, and he found it easier to cover up as much skin as possible during the day.
Devlan’s chest was bare beneath his jacket and painted in the symbol of his first clan to keep the Elder sirens happy. His boots reached above his calves laced with a similar design to the laces that ran the length of his leather pants. Devlan hadn’t actually met the Elders no matter the stupid ritual marking, and was glad Gilda was intent to prevent it. It was obnoxious enough he had to deck himself in some old ass ritual just to walk into the place as a guest.
It would have been different if we was born there, but no, the whole damn village wanted to treat him like some fucking god chosen just because his mother bore him on the Arc Fault. Ridiculous. He was determined if close enough to any other of the villagers to reveal just how imperfect those born on the Arc Fault could truly be.
They walked together in silence, his gaze taking in the scenery. The plateau was decorated with colorful silks and there was a feeling of lightness and joy everywhere, even if everyone he’d met so far was weighed down with weapons. They wore the blades like an extension, just another part of their identity, because the siren’s smiles were all genuine and easy flowing. Well, when they weren’t looking his way. Then they all became some level of obnoxious shell-shocked, flabbergasted imbeciles. It was bullshit and he hated it.
“Are you in need of nourishment?” Gilda asked as the cliff side drop came into view in the distance. “There are men below if you have a preference.”
Devlan didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t in a hurry to explain how he couldn’t feed. He liked Gilda but couldn’t trust her with such a dangerous secret. He couldn’t trust anyone.
Gilda paused and turned to him, her gaze questioning. “Your energy is different. Very different. Has something else happened?”
Devlan tilted his head and considered. “Does it remind you of anyone?”
“Remind?” She furrowed her brows. Gilda closed her eyes to focus on him. In moments she gasped and took a step back. “Oh Devlan. What have you done? You’re saturated in him. Don’t tell me you fed from Vesper?”
Devlan didn’t answer. Fuck, he hoped it was only his imagination but it seemed Vesper’s energy had marked him like he feared. It pulsed through him like a radiant elixir. Devlan couldn’t remember ever feeling this strong, this untouchable. But the strength pulsing through his body didn’t fool him of the fact it would eventually fade and be spent like all consumed energy. He needed to find a solution to this Evanel problem, and soon before he descended into the madness of starvation.
“It wasn’t a feeding,” Devlan finally said when Gilda continued to look as if she was debating either to cry or slug him. “Malice wanted to give me an incentive, a power boost, to make sure this plan happened. We never actually touched.”
Gilda shook her head in disbelief. “You have put yourself in so much danger. You are putting us all..” She trailed off, her gaze moving to behind him. Devlan turned and rolled his eyes when he saw Corinth. She broke away from her group of friends who were dipping feet into the river that led to the waterfall to stalk toward them. She was dressed in a sky blue bikini top that made her dark skin seem of polished wood. The light sarong playfully flowing around her legs did nothing to soften the scowl on her face as she glared Devlan down.
“You have the nerve to come here now? Do you know what you’ve done? What danger you bring?”
Devlan held his ground, a condescending smirk already twisting his lips when Corinth stomped in front of him. A litany of blue feathers that matched the many shades of the geometric pattern of her skirt colored Corinth’s hair. He almost made a joke of her stealing from bird’s nest for the vanity of it all, but thought better of it. Corinth was right. He was putting the entire village in danger.
“I was wondering when you’d stop hiding from me,” Devlan said.
“Hiding? No. I’ve been looking for a curse,” Corinth snarled, her voice shrill in anger. “There is nothing in the books vile enough for one such as you. We all know you had the two of them, Devlan! The night of the Hierarchy, you had Vesper Malice and now you welcome that demon here!”
Devlan shared a look with Gilda, who shrugged. “There have been rumors. The three of you were hardly discreet.”
“I didn’t touch Malice. No one has touched Malice,” Devlan said steadily.
“Then why is the demon hunting!” Corinth’s shout broke off halfway and tears sparkled in her eyes. Gilda looped an arm with her shoulders and pulled her aside, their heads ducked. She spoke soothingly while Corinth tried to get herself together.
Devlan took the time to look around, wondering just who might be listening to Corinth’s little break down. Most of the village was down in the basin enjoying their happy feeding orgy. Once night fell, they would seek to feed the humans who bothered to stick around and then have their campfire entertainment.
They had structures down in the basin for the prey where they could sleep and store their goods and food. Some prey chose to live their, like permanent groupies. The sirens lived symbiotic lives with their happy prey but none of the humans were allowed up on the cliff side unless they were taken as mates. Even then, most chose to stay in the structures around the basin because of how overtly hostile the sirens were to outsiders in their territory. Devlan found the practice backwards. The sirens might bend enough to see humans as equal enough for mating but they never fully accepted them into their community. The Clan came first and it demanded they stay separate.
Incubi didn’t care the shape or form of their mates; if they were mated, they were welcome into the community. Elves were the same; well, at least, his adoptive clan was. There were more than a few humans and random fae among the seemingly ageless elves of his clan. A siren would have been welcome, not that the sirens would ever leave their clan. More superstitious nonsense to put some above and others below. He couldn’t stand any of it. Ever since running into that obnoxious Nicholas, Devlan’s anger always seemed at the surface, ready to explode whenever he thought of the many ways elves tried to make the incubi feel less than.
Corinth was calmer when she turned back to Devlan. “This is madness. Vesper touched no one. Why is that creature seeking us?”
“This is not the place,” Gilda said tightly.
“Do you really think a demon like Heiden cares if he follows his own arbitrary, fucked up rules?” Devlan asked quietly. “I’m telling you, Vesper is in love with the kid. I doubt Heiden would ever let such a thing pass. He will torment Vesper to his very end with ease just by killing the one he loves.”
“Fuck.” Gilda’s hand inched towards her bladed back but she didn’t actually draw her weapon. “Evan is defenseless against a being like Heiden.”
Corinth’s expression was cloudy as she pitched her voice lower. “We all are. Vesper killed Devlan by asking this of him. He’s killed us all.”
Devlan didn’t have the heart to disagree. He believed as much, even if he refused to voice it. “Have either of you heard from Asher Vah? Has he made plans to arrive?”
Corinth threw her hair over her shoulder, the strands braided into what appeared to be hundreds of slender, dark snakes among her colorful feathers. Her brows were pinched in worry even though her voice was haughty. “You really think Asher is foolish enough to come running to his death? He’s a survivor, nearly a senseless predator. He’d sell us out to save his own skin.”
“Perhaps, but I have no doubt he’ll be coming,” Devlan assured.
“He’s the reason this happened in the first place,” Corinth hissed. “If he didn’t…”
“What? Try to feed from Evan?” Gilda interrupted. “Or is it’s Evan’s fault for not being strong enough to break away? Smart enough to not have gotten so close? If he wasn’t strange the way he was, would none of this have happened?” she asked with a defiant glare. “Hunters will hunt.”
Corinth huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know. All I know is I have a life planned out. I went to the Hierarchy for connections, not my death.” Her glare cut into Devlan for a moment, then Corinth whirled and began to walk away. “Keep him from my family’s dwelling. All of them,” she hissed in parting.
Devlan watched her go, his expression blank.
“You can’t blame her. She’s not prepared for this,” Gilda said quietly.
Devlan glanced her way but didn’t speak. None of them were, but it didn’t mean the danger was going to pass because of it. “I didn’t come here to doom your village.”
“I know why you came here,” Gilda said, a new edge to her voice. “I can’t promise the Elders will help. I’m not even sure if involving them is wise, given the circumstances.” She met his eyes. “You didn’t bring this to your home.”
“Asher Vah is half demon. He might have some leverage into how they work, how to negotiate,” he reminded.
Gilda snorted and they started walking again. “If he shows.”
“He’ll show. Even if it’s just to feed off of our corpses, the brat will show.” Devlan was hoping it would be before. Asher had been effected by Evan that morning at the Hierarchy. He acted the fool as much as a blood drinking demon could, just for the excuse to touch the seemingly null Evanel. If he could convince Asher Vah Evan was in danger, he might convince him to be reckless once again in all of their favor.
“Have you contacted Evan yet?”
Devlan shook his head. “I’ve tried every night since Malice reached out to me. I can’t get to him.”
Gilda was silent for a few beats. “Dead?”
“No, I sense him. I just can’t…” He couldn’t bring himself to reach out. Every time he got close to where he sensed Evan to be, Devlan just couldn’t take the last steps to reach him on the dreamscape. Something was holding him back, a feeling of danger, and he couldn’t find the source. “I was hoping to be able to use your tower. The…”
Gilda sighed heavily. “You planned this.”
Devlan didn’t bother to apologize. “You really think I would put up with all the obnoxious hero-worshiping otherwise? I can’t reach him on my own. I need a place of spiritual power to center around. One preferably not being haunted by all your Elders. It’s just for the night, Gilda.”
Growling under her breath, she eventually nodded. “I’ll ask. Just promise you’re being straightforward, Devlan. This is not a place you want to fuck around with. The Astral Tower is Siren’s inheritance.”
Devlan didn’t bother pointing out Gilda’s clan stole the damn thing from another fae clan when they immigrated over hundreds of years back. They reached the cliff side. The desert stretched out in all directions, bands of beige, gold, purple and brown striping the canyon walls that led below into the large basin. The sounds of giggling could be heard above the thundering of the waterfall.
“Do you have any incubi in the area?” Devlan asked, his eyes fixed on the tower of crystal in the center of the basin. In the late afternoon light, it glowed olive, the color fogged with white and glittery on the smooth edges. It was over 50 feet tall, and other paths of color trickled like tributaries over the massive crystal tower. The sirens built a structure out of stone, wood, and clay that wrapped around the natural formation with stairs to lead to the top. At the base was a stone platform in the water guarded by three fierce sirens. Around them the others swam and stretched out on the rock ledges to tan and feed from their entranced prey.
“Incubi? Devlan…” Gilda shook her head in exasperation. “Why? Are you looking to battle or fuck? Is this why you scent of Vesper? Are you in some mating craze?”
Devlan groaned internally. “Fuck, don’t even say that word. Fuck that. I’m just curious about the locals.”
Gilda glared at him suspiciously but eventually answered. “A few of the female incubi come by with permission when they’re struggling to find food. They aren’t really local though; their clan is scattered hundreds of miles out. The males are more rare. You know how aggressive and vain they can get. The Elders don’t welcome fighting; it makes the prey uncomfortable.” She gave him another side glance when he didn’t respond. “Devlan, you’re worrying me. You’re not acting like yourself.”
He took a deep breath in. “I’ll leave by morning,” he said curtly. “I just need the tower and then I’ll be done putting you all in jeopardy.”
“Damn it, Devlan. This isn’t your fault.”
“It will be.” He dodged Gilda’s hand when she went to pat his shoulder. “If I stay, if I involve you, it will absolutely be my fault. The demon doesn’t need a feast. Three is more than enough.”
Gilda looked like she wanted to say more but held herself back. He was right and she was smart enough to know it. “Come down to the basin. Even if you’re not hungry, the energy will be good for you.”
His lips pursed, Devlan eventually nodded. He would welcome the distraction of what he had to do next. There would be no excuse once he used the tower. He would find Evan, track him down, and the two of them would be running from Heiden for the rest of their lives. Either that, or maybe he’d get lucky and Evan was already dead.
Devlan scowled. He couldn’t feed. Evanel stole his ability to continue on living unless he ensured the weak thing’s safety. Devlan didn’t care at this point if the guy was as ignorant as he seemed. This was his life being fucked with. He didn’t care how long it took, he would make Evan pay for manipulating him.
***
Guards with, as well as Corinth. The tower, the plan.
***
Devlan at Gilda’s, the two talking, Corinth to the side, playing with a tourist. It’s clear Devlan still can’t feed but at least now he’s empowered, flushed, strong, feels amazing. They’re forming a plan to get in contact with Evanel, a little talk about if they should contact Asher. They have different opinions on what Asher Vah might do with the knowledge—sell them out or go into hiding.
Devlan goes into a trance, dream hunting at a time they think Evanel should be sleeping. He’s not asleep but Devlan can feel the press of his soul. It’s like coming home and terrifying all at once. The need he has for this boy—or was that the need Evan had? He was arguing with someone, hissing from sharp points of pain. Shit—Devlan snaps his eyes open, Gilda looking at him worriedly. Was it…? No, a human. He was using a __ on him. A ___? Aren’t those things illegal? Because they’re only used for cruel and inhuman torture? Yeah. Fuck. Could you get a trace on his location? We can teleport in if you can get a lock on him. I can’t. Not while he’s awake. Then we’ll keep checking in. Get him when he’s sleeping. Right. D closes his eyes, breathing out unsteadily. Is is bad? I’m sorry you have to see this. Not as bad as what the kid has to live through.
They spend hours, Gilda growing more worried the tenser Dev gets. It’s not getting better. The guy likes to bliss and in a really bad way.
***
A section to comment on the Awakening series. You may find polls here, secrets answered, character bios–I’m not sure exactly yet. Please, if you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them!
Beverly was silent through the drive home and Evan was grateful for it. She had taken one look at him, turned the car on and just driven away. He wasn’t sure if it was because of Gilda or how he looked but he wasn’t going to ask to find out. His mind was a mess. He felt like he’d been turned upside down and the feeling was only growing worse the closer he got to what right side up had once been.
Evan couldn’t help but think just how easy it would be to step through a portal or cast a teleportation spell now that he had actually experienced the mirror portal at the Hierarchy. It would have been an instant instead of the hours driving. His world could open up so far beyond Beverly’s house and Stephan’s grasp.
Beverly really was a strange sorceress in a lot of ways. It wasn’t that she didn’t have access to all this magic. She had used it when she was younger. Not just when she had fought to protect the Arc Fault, but also before. She had been raised to be a magic user among family that had taken things like portals for granted. He couldn’t help wondering why it had all gone crazy for his cousin.
Sure, Beverly could say things like how a portal could be hijacked, but couldn’t a car be hijacked as well? Wasn’t it just as easy to cast a spell on a moving vehicle full of unsuspecting occupants as it was to target the interspace travel involved in moving through a portal? She didn’t have any magic on the SUV to protect them from such an assault; Beverly tended to avoid magic at all fronts, even the kind that could protect her.
Evan stared out into the dark as they pulled into their neighborhood. Beverly stopped at the corner, putting the car into park without a word. He pulled his attention from the window when he realized there was nothing to see, meeting the woman’s eyes through the rearview mirror as she peered at him. She looked tense, her gaze sharp, and Evan braced himself for what undoubtedly would be something about the woman’s boyfriend.
“Stephan knows,” Beverly said curtly, not bothering to elaborate.
“Right.”
“He’s had one of his moods.”
Evan nodded, his muscles growing tense even as he told himself to remain unaffected. “So?” He asked, his voice coming out too sharp. Beverly ignored his tone, her eyes continuing to pierce into his.
“He won’t let me clean it up,” the woman said blandly. “He said he’ll be home to ‘educate’ you. I wanted you to be prepared.”
Closing his eyes and exhaling slowly, Evan gave another nod. “Right.”
“Try to keep things quiet, Evanel. Edward has final exams to study for. I don’t want the house upset.” Beverly put the car back into drive, the black SUV gliding forward. Evan kept his mouth shut, stuffing his retort down so deep he couldn’t even fathom the words he wanted to say. His eyes caught on something white as the car pulled into the driveway, the headlights illuminating a mess strewn across the lawn.
It was his clothing and things from his room. His bureau was shattered, drawers pulled free and crushed in the dirt. The books he could see were torn in two, pages ripped out and fluttering in the light breeze outside.
No, Stephan had not taken the news well.
Beverly turned the car off, staring out the windshield at the mess as the headlights faded. “If you learned to repair things with magic…”
Evan blocked his cousin out, glaring Beverly’s way until she fell silent. She unbuckled her seatbelt and he followed suit at a slower pace.
If she hadn’t hooked up with a psycho, he wouldn’t need magic. He wouldn’t need to protect himself—He wouldn’t fucking need anything. She was just going to bliss out again, probably the second she got into the house. Fuck, she was probably already halfway there in her mind already.
Beverly could tell him a million way that magic could sneak its way in and fuck their lives but apparently it could never happen through the mind and emotion altering potions she downed like water. No, Beverly being poisoned to death never seemed to cross her mind even though the woman had grown shakier and more weak every time she drank the numbing shit.
He stepped out of the SUV, looking at the house he had lived in for years. It looked tired, as tired as Beverly and just as shaken, the beige paint peeling, shingles off the roof lost and unmissed. The driveway was full of cracks, weeds quick to come in and fill the gaps. The hedges were overgrown but maybe that was a gift to the neighbors down the street that never talked to the family. Sometimes Edward got a hello but never Evan. Edward was going to grow up to be a sorcerer while Evan had just been the weird science geek without any parents.
As he stared down at one of his torn textbooks, he couldn’t help thinking his previous principles had been proven. What use was anything beyond cold, hard facts? What use was this seething pit of emotion in his stomach? It wasn’t real. None of it was real. The soil was real he was standing on, the granite underneath. Metal and minerals were real. Atoms, protons, electrons. The cycle of the water that rained down and seeped deep into the ground. These things were real, not the pain trying to pry into his heart. Not the fantasy of waving your hand and having all your problems just disappear. What a joke magic made of the world.
He left his robe in the car, not seeing the point in ruining it as well as he bent to clean. Beverly left him to it but he didn’t miss her presence. His heart winced and then hardened with every article of clothing he pulled from the damp grass and mud, each ruined book, destroyed dream. It had all been destroyed with the letter from the Hierarchy, this was just the physical manifestation finally revealed. It wasn’t going to get better. He knew Stephan Grock and he knew the way the fucked up man thought. No, there was no seeing this better. All he could do was wait it out and hope he’d make it through.
As he crouched over his broken bureau, carefully pulling shards of wood free from his tangle of shirts, he considered going to Gilda’s, only to shake his head with a sigh. Who the fuck would want to put up with this sort of shit? Stephan would surely follow him. The man would not let him free so easy, not after years of trying to get even the smallest admittance from Evan that he had power. The man would make an ass of himself in the middle of a village of sirens, and make Evan would look just as bad in association. Stephan hated the fae possibly more than anything else because the beings were magic while the warlock fell short in every regard. Making friends with the fae was the fastest way to get on the man’s bad side. Hardly something Evan needed to do more of.
He felt a familiar numbing draining his anger and hurt away as he piled his scavenged belongings together and prepared to step into Beverly’s house. It stole the strange spark Evan had felt since meeting Gilda and the others. Maybe things had been interesting at the Hierarchy. Sebastian had always spoken of having so much fun and crazy adventures… But then, Uncle Seb’s idea of a good time was going off and murdering people so he probably wasn’t the best judge. Evan could only imagine he had experienced something of interest that weekend because now it was gone. He was back home. His days were back to being filled with the same mundane mixed with fear of what might come depending on Stephan’s mood.
Straightening, he exhaled slowly, his eyes sliding up to the dark, cloudless sky and the bright pale moon above. At least it wasn’t a demon, right? He could have been tattooed and waiting for some demon master to drain him until he was dead.
Evan took small comfort in the fact that he wasn’t Vesper Malice even while silently hoping the boy was well and unafraid.
Vesper had stayed too long at the Hierarchy. With slow steps, the platinum blond boy made his way to the vestibule, the one area on campus where residents could teleport outside of the enchanted school. He had lingered for reasons he hadn’t wanted to admit, the main one being to catch a final glimpse of a certain dark-eyed, angry boy he could not stop thinking about.
His demon hellspawn had already slipped away into a foul puff of smoke, returning to its true master where it would undoubtedly become as talkative as it had been silent now that it was free of Vesper’s presence. Vesper had plenty of justifications for why he had stayed as long as he did and had little fear of being found out, especially since he had failed in his endeavor to actually say goodbye to Evan. Instead, he had spoken nearly two hours to Master Cantorous about apprenticing with the man, and he had gotten pulled into a deep conversation with Mistress Nox, the resident demonologist. The woman had been intrigued with his tattoo and the bond that would soon be activated. He would be more than happy to give the sorceress the information she wanted next year when he was forced to endure first hand the bond she had been gushing over in her excitement.
Demons were as alien to Earth as the fae were but they originated from one specific world in the outer realms while the fae had come from many worlds. It was the newness of their discovery that set the demons so apart, for there had been many fae with many different powers that could be just as unsettling. While the fae had populated the earth hundreds of thousands of years back, mixing with humans until they were at times indistinguishable, demons had only been discovered far more recently and through a magical means that few people agreed was acceptable. It was a one-way trip and no demon, to the best of Vesper’s knowledge, had been given a choice in being brought to Earth.
There was still a difference to the demons, one that made even fae avoid them when they crossed. They were all on some level essence eaters. While a fae could choose to consume a being safely of their superficial energy, demons were known to drain their victims of their life force, be it through blood, flesh, or even soul. It made them dangerous on a different level, one that for whatever reason had justified the absolute control of the demonic population as they came to arrive on the planet. Demons were supposedly too dangerous to be allowed free even though the demons had not had any choice in their arrival in the first place.
Most demons became slaves to the sorcerer or sorceress that summoned them. Being essence eaters still didn’t necessarily make them powerful. Demons were rare and some magic users made a habit of bonding the creatures to their own power, allowing them to exploit the creatures. Then there were demons like Vesper’s soon to be master. Beyond powerful, vicious, and with no known rival to defeat him, Heiden could have been a fae god, or so Vesper liked to pretend when he dared to try and comprehend how he had found himself in his dismal situation. Heiden was so powerful, he enslaved demons and when he fancied it, humans and fae as well.
Kruck, the flaming eyed, cracked face demon that had kept student and professor away from the blond’s allure was one of the few of Heiden’s slaves he had met so far. He knew the demon master had more even though he had yet to meet them. Vesper had a natural curiosity of the demons and, perhaps, an affinity seeing as he too was to be a slave. Knowledge of these rare demonic fae was of interest to many a magic user, especially to the sorcerers that would not dare to summon and enslave a demon to satisfy their curiosity. Because of his unique circumstances, Vesper had more than enough information to share with such magic users. He didn’t dare hope that it would one day free him from his demon master but he could at least dream the information might provide a way to free his descendants in the future.
The outdoor vestibule was alight even though evening had fallen hours ago. Beautiful trees framed the domed ceiling that opened up to reveal the clear, dark sky above. It could have been daylight in the area, except there was a quality to the glow that tinged everything a soft blue reminiscent of moonlight. Vesper stopped once stepping through a tall archway, his eyes drawn to the large fountain in the center of the expansive stone patio where a slender, dark-skinned boy sat watching him. It was Asher Vah, still and calm, his long black hair loose around his shoulders and shimmering in the light that bounced off the pool of water.
This was not the first time Asher had sought him out. Of all the peers that knew of his situation, Asher had been the least squeamish to be around him. It might have been companionable if Vesper didn’t have to wonder if the boy was looking for a way to slice his veins open.
The breeze shifted, Vesper’s skin tingling at the nape of his neck when he caught the scent of fresh blood. All his senses warned him of Asher. The boy was a predator, cold and calculating, and he viewed sentient being just as edible as mindless animals. But he could see the tanned boy had fed, Asher showing a slight daze to his pale leaf green eyes that spoke of being sated. The Hierarchy did not lack for anything, nor did the students that attended. He might not have fully trusted Asher, but he could trust that if fed, the boy would be less a danger to his health.
Vesper slowly crossed the distance, taking note of the few people in the vestibule that had chosen to give Asher a wide berth. Asher looked up at him calmly, meeting his curious gaze before looking him over. Vesper was used to Asher sizing him up but he had yet to figure out just what the intention behind it was. The short boy was difficult to read. Sometimes he was certain Asher was trying to figure out if he a worthy opponent, other times he could swear there was a sexual undertone to the boy’s stare. But most times Vesper thought Asher was just looking for a weakness so that he could slash an artery and feast from him.
Fuck, it was Asher Vah. He wouldn’t put anything past the little brat.
“I was curious,” Asher finally spoke, his clawed hands looking deceptively delicate as he braced the marble seat of the fountain on either side of where he sat.
Vesper raised a brow, waiting silently for the boy to continue. Asher was hardly a social creature. He was there for a reason and he’d figure out how to communicate it eventually.
Another moment stretched out, Asher Vah scratching lightly against the stone before speaking again in his lulling voice. “I was curious as to why you interfered yesterday.”
Scowling, Vesper took a gliding step forward, standing directly in front of the slender boy so he could glare down. “You attacked an innocent, Asher Vah. Did you expect me to do nothing?”
Asher tilted his head, a small smile twisting his lips as his hair fell across an eye. “You had to know I wouldn’t kill the boy. You exerted an unneeded amount of energy to save a young man that didn’t need saving.”
“Just because you weren’t going to kill him didn’t mean he didn’t need saving,” Vesper muttered, his glare burning into the tanned boy’s form.
Asher smiled wider, a fang peeking from between his lips. “It was very out of character for you.”
Vesper pursed his lips at the accusation, trying to deny it even though he knew it was very true. He was not the type to get caught up in the stupid games of others, especially of predator and prey. But he had the moment he’d seen Evanel Reed in danger and he couldn’t, for whatever reason, seem to stop himself even now in his desire to protect the boy.
“What was your intention, Asher Vah?” Vesper demanded lowly. Yes, he had been out of character, but so had Asher. The boy was usually controlled but he had given in to the draw of Evan just like the rest of them. Vesper had not been the only one to crack yesterday at orientation. “You risked your life. I have never seen you gamble so much. Why reveal yourself to some null and risk retaliation?”
“You think him null? Truly?” Asher shrugged the blond’s assessment away with a bored sigh. He adjusted the dark silks over his narrow shoulders, wrapping his neck idly. Asher’s tanned skin shone in the magical light, his dark hair and green eyes gleaming; the boy was truly beautiful. Unfortunately, he was a blood drinker, one demented enough to actually bathe in the life-giving fluid.
Vesper wasn’t sure if it was an intimidation ploy on Asher Vah’s part, painting himself in gore to combat his petite frame and sweet face. Asher seemed to take pleasure in fucking with people’s heads in subtle ways. A mindfuck of blood for those foolish enough to see him as weak didn’t seem beyond the boy. It was either that or Asher actually absorbed the blood through his skin. There were demons that had the ability, the djin among them. Except, Asher was only half djin and the rest of him very much human. He could simply eat a damn meal if he was hungry enough.
Vesper had been exposed to demons of all types in preparation for bonding with Heiden. Some of them had been so disgusting and cruel that to see Asher Vah was to know an invaluable jewel with sharp, deadly edges in comparison. The slender boy was a demon/human hybrid, rare and endangered the way anything with demon blood was. There would always be someone, be it concerned citizen, magic user, or more powerful demon that would think Asher better to be owned than allowed free. Vesper sometimes wondered if the boy sought him out as much as he did—little as that was—because of their shared fate.
“I heard you offered him an informal entreaty to court,” Asher finally said, a smile just teasing at his lips.
“You’re mistaken,” Vesper grunted, straightening his stance.
“I know you and the incubus had a rendezvous with the angry thing,” the slender boy countered lightly. “You risk battle and your master’s wrath for the boy. Surely you must have just as compelling a reason as I do for seeking the boy’s attention.”
At the mention of Heiden possibly discovering what he had done, cold flooded through him. Vesper’s eyes shuttered, his expression closing off, his chest clenching painfully tight. “I proposed no such thing. Devlan suggested there was a choice. There is not. I am not available, nor will I ever be.” That it was true only made it hurt more, something inside him rattling in defiance.
He went to turn, done with all reminders of the hell he had gone through yesterday but Asher moved. It was just a twist of one of the boy’s dangling bracelets but it was enough to freeze the blond, warning prickling through him.
“I have never known you to draw your sword, Vesper. Not among your peers. Not in the face of a being like me.” Asher paused, combing claws through his dark hair. “You were going to kill me. All for a boy you didn’t even know.”
There was a new tone to Asher’s voice, unfamiliar and tinged with regret. Vesper sought his gaze, confused. Had Asher been hurt by it? Had he somehow missed that this demented, vicious halfling might actually consider him to be his friend? “Asher Vah, if you hadn’t attacked—”
“Evanel ensnared you much faster than it took to get that tattoo carved into your flesh,” Asher interrupted smoothly, his voice back to its purr of before. “I would have expected far better from a Candidate.”
It was a slap in the face, the words coming from nowhere but stabbing deep and true in a way Vesper could not have prepared himself for. Gritting his teeth with a hiss, he whirled, his hands clenched into fists despite his efforts to control his anger. “Do not approach him again,” he warned, his anger darkening his words. “I will show you no mercy, Asher Vah, no matter how long we have known each other.”
Asher’s eyes glinted and his dark hair rippled in the night breeze as the blond stalked away angrily. “I would expect no less, Vesper.” Looking down, Asher caught his reflection in the water, blood spotting his otherwise clean cheek. He carefully wiped it with his thumb, licking the bloodied digit as he watched Vesper teleport home.
Vesper seethed inside, a storm of emotion trapped in a place of darkness within. Cracking into awareness at the foot of the Sunfall Mountains just shy of the arctic circle in Canada, he kept his head down, ignoring the swirl of white and walls of rock around him and the wind roaring outside the arrival chamber of stone. It was daylight still near the Western Coast of the continent where he had teleported to. His home was above, a castle built and hidden into the highest peaks. The only way to access it was through the mirrored portal before him, but he hesitated, fighting to control his anger.
Asher Vah had dared to insinuate he was a Candidate—The boy had to be out of his fucking mind! Surely he was just trying to piss him off and get under his skin. A game. A game of predators that Vesper just didn’t have the fucking mettle for at the moment because he was facing his birthday, his exritus, and his bonding to a demon that would drain him dead.
Damn. A Candidate.
Sighing heavily, he tried to steady the drumming of his heart while running fingers through his long, nearly white hair. Why would Asher have said that? Did he know something? The Malice bloodline always held the possibility but the last time the Candidates had been called forth had been over a thousand years ago. There was no way it would happen in his generation and sure as fuck not to him. Not with the fucking tattoo. Not with Heiden looking to sink his fucking claws into him for a limited eternity of hell.
Scowling, Vesper strode across the rocky footpath, thin powdery snow dusting his way. The steeps around him rose up like the steps of giants. His mother used to tease him, saying the dragons had carved them into the land so that they could reach the sky. But no dragon could be large enough to use the mountains as a stairway. Vesper glared up at the banded rocky wall, bitterness he tried so desperately to keep at bay rising up in him. Another lie told to him as a child to dull the pain of life. He had grown up faster than his cousins. He had been forced to face reality at ten. Now even the suggestion of such childish fantasies made his heart clench painfully. Vesper had grown up faster because his death was already near and though he had accepted it as inevitable, there was nothing in him that would willingly welcome his fate.
Taking a dagger out, he sliced the inside of his palm, then pressed it to the surface of the mirror. Ancient magic, natural terrain, and hazardous weather protected the castle he called home for as long as the Malice line had lived, possibly even longer. They had little fear of losing their mountain fortress, but then, it had done little to protect any of them from Heiden in the end.
Vesper’s reflection rippled in the portal, his glaring face disappearing to reveal the familiar scene of his home on the plateau above. He took three calming breaths, internally kicking himself for having let Asher Vah get to him. His expression schooled again into one of indifference, he stepped through the portal and into the warm air of Celestial Keep.
The estate stretched out before him, a fertile oasis among an otherwise desert of rock, scrubby brush, and snow. Below in some of the valleys, thin trees grew, greenery dotting the craggy landscape. But at the top of the plateau where his ancestors had made their home, magic had been used to create a hospitable environment. Orchards dominated the majority of the land, gifting a bounty of fruit and nuts that fed the humans and animal alike that had been transported to the three acres of land. Sitting above, sturdy and oppressive with its tall towers was his family castle made of the magic imbued rocks of the cliffs around them. Some stone repelled magic, others enhanced. Celestial Keep was crafted from a stone that was fortified against magical attack. It truly was a fortress and Vesper breathed a sigh of relief to be home.
He rarely left his family estate. His tutors came to him and besides the few visits to relatives and the occasional party, he had little desire to leave Celestial Keep. His trip to the Hierarchy had been his longest away that he could remember. Stepping back into the magical boundary felt significant, some of his tension slowly unkinking from his muscles as he was engulfed in familiar scents and sounds. It was as if the magic that cultivated growth from lifeless rocks was trying to do the same to his otherwise numb existence. Something within him welled to see his home again. It was the one place he was certain he truly belonged and the place he would soon be leaving forever.
Heiden wouldn’t force the issue; the demon would be happy to move in. No matter how much he would miss his home, Vesper would never invite the monstrous creature to enter Celestial Keep and put his family at risk. It was just another sacrifice he had resigned himself to, another internal wound that would eventually dull and numb like all the others had. He was just the walking dead at this point. A ghost that had haunted his home long enough. Once he left, his aunts, uncles, and many cousins could finally return to the Clan’s castle. It would give his parents the companionship he had failed at no matter how hard he’d tried to smile if only for them.
Depression was not new for Vesper but he was surprised to be aware of his state of being. Something had changed in him, something unsettling and disturbing on as many levels as the mountains around him. His weekend at the Hierarchy had been worse than he had anticipated. Mostly because of one strange, confusing boy that he hadn’t been able to stop looking at the moment he had caught sight of him.
He could have easily named twenty men more beautiful than Evanel Reed, most of them from his own Clan. He could have likely named a hundred more powerful than the angry-eyed boy who had been able to avoid Vesper’s allure but not much else. But for whatever reason, he could not stop thinking of Evan. Even now, when back in the familiar surroundings of the Sunfall Mountains while standing in the shadow of his family’s castle, he could see the blond in his mind’s eye. He could nearly remember Evan’s scent and hear those damn near silent whimpers the boy had made—
Fuck. What the hell had the boy done to him?
He had drawn his weapon on a classmate. He had used his power to intentionally pull. Hell, he had agreed to let Devlan call Evan and feed off of him, just so he could have an excuse to see the boy again. It was unforgivable. This weekend had marked not only Vesper’s acceptance into the Hierarchy as his power demanded, but also his first test to see if he could control himself away from the protection of his family and home. He had failed. He had failed on nearly three separate occasions all because of that boy. How could he trust himself to keep the masses safe from Heiden’s possessive rage if he couldn’t even control himself over one damn boy?
Vesper had run the memory of orientation through his mind a dozen times, each recounting more damning than the last. It wasn’t that his actions had been questionable but that his emotions had been joined in them as well. He had wanted to use his power. He had truly wanted to kill Asher Vah. He had been damn near giddy with the idea of slicing the small, vicious boy to pieces. The feeling had almost been as exhilarating as the idea of fucking Evan after in reward.
Vesper raised his clenched fist to his mouth, resisting the urge to actually bite his own flesh as the same feeling rose up inside him unbidden. His hand was healed, the blood still wet from where the portal had sealed the wound. He licked it idly as he thought.
He was just some boy. That he had made it to the Hierarchy at all was a wonder because, for all intents and purposes, Evanel Reed was a null to his senses. He was weak, ignorant of magic and physical defense—An absolute victim too blind to even fear for his own safety. And if Vesper had only felt a need to protect the boy, that might have been acceptable. But it wasn’t protectiveness seething inside him when he thought of Evan. It was definitely something along the path of defilement and enslavement bubbling through his very core. He wanted to possess the boy at every level, kill any that would dare challenge him, and then be free to do whatever dark, delicious things he pleased to Evan.
Madness. Goddess, but he was going mad.
Scowling to himself, Vesper expanded his magical senses, seeking out his mother’s presence. She radiated from the direction of the library and he turned himself towards the imposing building, barely seeing the beautiful gardens as he passed.
Maybe it was the change coming. His birthday was upon him and his exritus was due. Vesper had been so focused on his upcoming bonding that he hadn’t given much thought to the possibility that he might end up becoming some barbaric, bloodthirsty fae. It was not as if his last name was a coincidence; there had been more than a few Malices in the past that had ended up more chaotic and destructive than anything much else. Was that why Heiden had chosen him? Had the demon sensed he would be a monster among his family?
He should have dismissed the invitation to the Hierarchy. Even now, Vesper was thinking of never returning. Exposing people to whatever the hell he was turning into had no useful value beyond his selfish fear of dying alone. Maybe a part of him had hoped the demon would choose to drain him less if there were people to see him falter, to see him grow weak and frail. Now he knew how foolish a dream that was. Heiden would want an audience to his slow death.
The castle was colder than the outside, the properties of the stone keeping the environmental magic from affecting the building. Vesper barely felt it even though his torso was mostly bare. They had personal enchantments and furs if they grew cold but, unlike his father, he rarely had to make use of them with his higher body temperature. His body had been born for the cold, as had all the Malices. They were descendants of the great Fae Ezella, the Celestial Dragon that had birthed his mother’s family. In the foyer was a mural depicting the fae goddess in dragon form, scaled and sinewy, her coloring like the pure snow that fell among the untouched mountain tops. She dazzled in the light, a creature of such power, even her own had feared when she approached. But Ezella was a mother, a protector, noble of heart and true to what was right even if the shadow she cast was dark and impenetrable.
The Malice line may have strayed too far for even Ezella’s mercy. The demon Heiden was a curse on their bloodline, one the goddess had allowed for nearly a thousand years. No one had intervened to save them and Vesper could not expect anyone to. Not after so long. Ezella had pledged her loyalty to the shadow faced god and with that promise, the lives of her descendants had been pledged as well. Neither god or goddess had stepped forth to repay that loyalty and no Candidate had been called. After a thousand years of silent deities, who could expect them to return?
Maybe that too was the way of the gods. Sacrifice the loyal so the weak had a chance to flourish. It wasn’t as if the Malice line had been decimated. No, they had just been culled in such a ghastly manner that many refused to continue the bloodline for knowledge their children could be the next victim. Vesper certainly had no interest in siring an heir.
He found his mother in the library, shimmering in the light from the large picture window that looked out at the mountains. Slender and willowy, Leandra’s white-blue hair reached down to her knees, the locks kept in perfect tight curls. She was pure elegance but Vesper would expect no less from a dragon queen even if she had no Clan to rule. His mother was clothed in a silky blue dress, the material draped straight down to accent her gentle curves. The sleeveless sides revealed the delicate silver tattoos that decorated her otherworldly pale skin from her biceps to the tips of her fingers.
Vesper regretted seeking her out once catching sight of his mother, pity and guilt hitting him in a familiar wave. Leandra looked weaker today than when he had left her Saturday. He knew it was his imagination; the baby growing inside the woman had yet to start redirecting her magic into its protection. Still, it was a reminder of the dangers facing his parents, especially when Leandra turned her pale blue gaze towards him, something mournful just beneath her beautiful surface.
“I felt your power. I was concerned.” Leandra placed her book on the windowsill, standing from her cushioned perch. At Vesper’s expression, she stilled, refraining from approaching her son just yet. “Was there a problem?”
“Potentially.” Vesper winced internally, hating to admit to it. But there was no escaping his parents’ ever watchful eye. If his mother had sensed his lapse of control, his father had as well. Goddess, what was happening to him?
Leandra’s gaze hardened, the woman straightening until she was facing her son not as his mother but as the queen she doubled as. “Your exritus is soon and your bonding sooner.” She swept forward, her dress swishing around her legs. “You lost control at the Hierarchy during orientation. You were hardly in the door. Can you explain yourself? Must we lock you away to protect the world from you?”
Licking suddenly dry lips, Vesper forced himself to stand taller and meet his mother’s disapproving gaze. He could see the concern beneath her stern exterior but it wasn’t important. She was very much right. If he had touched anyone at the Hierarchy, be it for fighting or saving, he would have doomed them to a terrible, unwarranted death.
“I believe I may be in the throes of a mating courtship,” Vesper answered carefully, silently cursing Asher for the boy’s choice to be cryptic when bluntness had been needed. “I did not see the reasoning behind it earlier. I was caught up with just… so much. But looking back, it seems to make sense.”
Leandra inhaled sharply, the warmth draining from her face. “Son, you know you cannot—”
“I know,” Vesper replied swiftly. “It is not a courtship of choice, mother. I was blindsided. I could not have expected such a thing but I will surely be prepared next time.”
She shook her head, a pinched expression of anxiety marring her delicate features. It made Vesper’s stomach twist to see. His mother was not one for emotional displays outside of flashes of anger. She had spent his lifetime pretending all was well while a demon waited at their door.
“We will speak with your father.” Leandra turned back to the window, picking up and holding her discarded book in hand like a shield across her chest. “Perhaps Ryder will know some way to curb the mating urge.”
“Mother, there is no need. Bringing more attention to this will only—”
Leandra shook her head sharply and he fell silent. “Your father sits beside me on a tarnished throne while a demon ravishes our bloodline. There is a great need.”
Vesper’s father was not a Malice. Vesper had inherited his mother’s name as all fae born did, along with much of her genetics. Ryder’s great fae ancestor was Avem, a lesser being compared to the celestial dragon, Ezella. Even still, his father had chosen to marry his mother after everyone knew that Heiden had been feeding on their line for centuries. Vesper had assumed it was out of some great love that his father had thrown all sensibility to the wind to stand beside Leandra. Now seeing his mother’s face, he had to fear that it had instead been a biological drive that had overridden his father’s rational mind.
Not that love couldn’t be called the same. A mix of chemicals that addled beings long enough to ensure that a mating occurred. Except the fae had magic to add to the insanity of the hormonal cocktail that was mating. Vesper gritted his teeth as an image of Evan flashed in his mind again, the boy’s bare torso covered in scars and old wounds, his eyes full of something dark and pleading.
Goddess, but he was such a fool.
It was more than just attraction, more than just the lure of the boy’s unique scent and defensive glare. Vesper had felt an underlying recognition the moment he had watched Evanel Reed huff into the orientation with his standoffish posture and haunted gaze. Curiosity had immediately turned to something else. He had wanted Evan to see him as much as he had wanted to know the boy. Had he turned one fucking moment into an absolute fantasy? Had he sought a companion in the only face he hadn’t known because all his other peers had already chosen to withdrawn from him in self-preservation?
There was a painful tearing inside him Vesper defiantly ignored. In the most unassuming of moments he had proven weak once again and a boy had nearly died because of it. He would not allow the mistake to occur again.
He knew what it was like to have been marked in life early on. Heiden had singled him out among his family and sealed his fate. Vesper had endured the endless whispers from his cousins as to why it had been him and not them. He had seen their unspoken relief, their pity, and never-ceasing fear every time they looked at him. Just because one boy had looked at him differently did not excuse his loss of control.
Vesper could not share his fate with anyone, even if he did see a kindred spirit in the angry blond. He was destined to walk his path alone, protecting all he could until death took him. He would hold out as long as he could so that his unborn sibling could have a chance at a life and not face the fate he had been given. It was his duty whether he had chosen it or not.
Leandra turned from her study of the mountains, her expression again controlled. She offered her son a small smile, leading them to the library door. “Your father returns later tonight. He’ll know the best approach in this, Vesper, I’m certain.”
Meeting his mother’s gaze, Vesper simply nodded in agreement. Something inside struggled to be heard but he pushed it down as he had been doing since he had first caught the eye of Heiden. He could only hope the caged being inside him would one day stop rattling, stop slamming at the bars for a freedom he had not been fated to have. Surely it would make it easier once all of him finally gave up.
Ryder, Vesper’s father, arrived late to dinner after his family had started. The large dining hall of Celestial Keep was mostly dim, only a few floating orbs illuminating the area of the main table they used. There had been a time when the entire hall clothed in pale blues among the white marble would expect to be near capacity to house the Malice extended family, the walls echoing with talk and laughter. If Vesper hadn’t been chosen, it would still have been the case. But Leandra’s child had caught Heiden’s attention and the queen’s family was now the outcasts, always spoken to so kindly while pity shone in every family member’s eye and vicious word was held in cheek for later when not face to face with the monster’s meal.
The dimness of the lighting made it so Vesper didn’t notice that the two individuals with his father were not the servants the Malices employed. It wasn’t until his mother suddenly stood, her eyes flashing, that he looked up, his gaze taking in the two huddled, slender forms.
“Guests?” Leandra asked, her eyebrow arched in the closest expression of confusion the woman would dare reveal.
Ryder offered a weak smile to his wife, stepping to the side and ushering the two young men forward. “Of a sorts, my love. Vesper, Master Heiden intercepted me with a delivery while I was away on business.”
“Father?” Pushing himself up stiffly from the table, Vesper met his father’s gaze. Ryder might not have been of Ezella’s blood but his looks complemented the Malice bloodline well. Having just turned forty with his smooth, straw blond hair, cool complexion, and gray eyes, Ryder fit in with his ethereal wife and son, even if the man insisted on dressing in heavy layers of clothing to combat the temperature of the castle. Although his father had his normal, casual smile in place, Vesper could see a tension to his stance, the man’s eyes sharp and full of warning as he tilted his head towards the two new guests.
A pair of red eyes peered back at him from beneath pale, purple tinted hair and Vesper inhaled sharply. Demons. His father had brought demons into their house. Vesper looked to his mother but her expression was as carefully crafted as his father’s. Still, he was certain this was just as much a surprise to her as it was to him. She would have warned him otherwise.
Vesper approached slowly, trying to gain as much information as possible with his eyes before he dared speak and say the wrong thing. Two, they couldn’t have been older than him, petite, slender, and eerily similar in looks. They were dressed in thin shifts, hardly offering much in protection from temperature or gaze, their legs and arms bare. They came up to his shoulder, their hair cut in identical fashion to bob silky around their faces. After a moment, he realized he was looking at twins, the only difference being that one was as pale as the snow with startling blue eyes while his brother was nearly gray skinned with a demonic red to his stare that could belong to no other creature. They were horned, a single small spire protruding from the center of their foreheads. Beyond their odd coloring, sharp fangs, claws, and pointed ears, they seemed far from hostile, the two of them huddled together possibly from the cold or maybe just in terror.
Vesper noticed it then, the frozen, thick black metal wrapped around each of the young man’s slim throats. They were slaves, their magic cut off from them along with any ability to flee.
The Malices did not deal in slaves. They did not allow them into their household, nor did they support the enslavement or trade of slaves in any way. Enslaving demons, fae, and humans was about as barbaric as one could get and Vesper’s family had no stomach for it. Yet there were two in his dining hall, eyes wide and full of misgiving as they peered back at Vesper with thinly veiled curiosity.
“Vesper, I would like you to meet Lilo and Draven,” Ryder said carefully, indicating the blue-eyed than red-eyed twin while beckoning his son closer. “They will be joining us at Celestial Keep until you find it time to move. They will then accompany you to your choice of estate. Space will be made in your set of rooms so that they can be near whenever you have need of them.”
A sickening wave of heat clenching in his stomach, Vesper nodded tightly. He didn’t dare ask just what sort of need he was supposed to have of the two youths, not when they were standing there staring at him like he was a step away from stripping the flesh from their bones. “They are from Heiden?”
Ryder nodded, his eyes downcast. “A very special gift for his precious one.”
“I see.” Forcing himself to breathe normally, Vesper took a small step back. “I imagine the three of you are famished after your journey. Father, if you will take your seat, I will have Gibbens add two more place settings for the evening.” The two boys were so thin, he had to wonder if they had been fed at all since arriving on Earth and just how long ago that might have been.
His mother sent him an approving look Vesper couldn’t fully feel past the ice moving through his veins. Heiden had gifted him with two slaves. Slaves. The demon had no understanding of his disgust of slavery—Or perhaps he completely did and that was why he had gifted them. All he knew for certain was that two very real lives had just been placed into his responsibility and he had little idea how to care for them.
He glanced back when he heard the two hissing, the pale boy having grabbed his gray skinned brother with a soft cry after seeing the tattoo on Vesper’s back.
“If he desires to bond with us—”
“Do not assume.” Red eyes glowed in warning, glancing Ryder’s way cautiously to see if the outburst had gotten them in trouble. They were speaking in their native tongue, Vesper recognizing it from one of the many demonic dialects he had studied.
“No one will force you to bond,” Vesper said bluntly in the same tongue, ignoring the wary glares immediately turned towards him. “I will not share my fate with anyone. As long as you are under my protection, you will have as much freedom as I can grant you.” He finally met the twin gazes, not sure if he could handle much of any reminder of Heiden at the moment. “I cannot promise it to be much in ways of freedom, given my own situation.” He crossed to the table, lifted the servant’s wand from the center, and signaled the kitchens for Gibbens.
The older man stepped in after a short wait through one of the hidden internal portals, gray-haired and stooped with age but still full of spirit. He took one look at Draven and Lilo and immediately summoned chairs and unfurled placemats that contained plates and bowls magically flattened and at the ready. In moments, the man had food steaming on the two new plates and both demons seated under their own respective fluffy furs for warmth.
Seeing Lilo and Draven were situated well enough, Vesper did everything in his power to ignore the two of them. He could feel their eyes on him, glancing at him secretively while they prodded their food. He couldn’t stop the feelings of resentment swirling within him. No matter how hard he had tried to avoid it, his home had been invaded by Heiden. It would take hours for his father and mother to be able to ensure that the two demons weren’t covered in trace spells or listening runes, or their fancy collars soaked in spying enchantments for that matter. And at the end of the day, Vesper would never be able to guarantee that either boy wouldn’t report any misdeed right to his demon master when his back was turned. The bonding ceremony hadn’t even taken place yet Vesper’s slavery had begun.
He couldn’t even talk to his father about what had occurred at the Hierarchy. Vesper could only hope his mother would relay the information to Ryder. If Avem’s genes were dominant to Ezella’s, Vesper’s control might be nonexistent when it came to the mating urge. After his exritus, he could potentially just off and decide to go seek out Evanel and mate the boy no matter that Heiden would kill the angry blond immediately after.
Vesper had done some reading that evening while waiting for his father’s return. It had not been encouraging. He could already identify traits that were strong in him from Avem. Many of the fae’s descendants had the ability to control prey with their eyes—An ability Vesper was certain a lot of his natural allure was centered in. When he wanted someone, he only had to look at them. Eventually, they would turn and meet his gaze, and he would simply pull them closer after that. It had seemed so insignificant at the time, just a different level to his already overwhelming allure. Now he saw it as the possibility that more of his father’s genetics would awake during his exritus with disastrous results.
Not that Ryder was a particularly aggressive man. Tall, impeccably dressed, and dignified, Vesper’s father was more a man of the world than the type of fae one would expect to lose his temper while seeking a mate. But Vesper had only ever known his father when the man had been past his mating days, married to Leandra and working as a long term investment banker. Vesper’s father had been well on his way to assuring the Malice line would never fear financial instability, along with the entire Celestial Clan. Even Heiden hadn’t been able to disturb Ryder’s financial plans, although it was clear the demon master preferred his victims to be completely reliant on him. Vesper had no idea just what type of man his father had awoken as when his exritus had come. Assuredly someone that had felt no fear to pursue a dragon queen and win her heart.
If anything had stayed the same, it was Ryder’s unfathomable loyalty and love for Leandra. Theirs was not a superficial relationship. Vesper had never doubted it because he had seen arranged marriages within his Clan. The contrast was startling. His parents were friends, confidants, and lovers; nothing less. Even if Leandra had been cursed with the Malice blood that had tied her family to the will of a demon, she had been blessed with a true partner. It only made the fate of their son more tragic, but Vesper knew his parents would persevere even in that. He would not deny them anything, including the replacement his mother was soon to birth.
It didn’t stop the bitterness still from twisting inside him. The world had compromised with his parents. Their love for each other strengthened the two and kept them going. He would never have that. He could never allow another human being to get close to him physically, never mind emotionally. He could not love or be loved.
Vesper didn’t know what fully compelled him as he sat there between his parents, the two exchanging simple pleasantries that held a warmth that revealed their happiness to be back in each other’s company. Maybe it was to distract from all the many things he wished to say but couldn’t because of the two demons that were failing to hide their dislike of the food before them. That night, as the walls seemed to close in and the shadows held a new darkness, he wished silently for a higher meaning beneath it all.
“Who was the last Candidate in our bloodline?”
His mother’s sharp look suggested the question was far beyond the scope of appropriate at the moment. More confusing was his father’s expression, a twist of anxiety on his lips that just as quickly dispersed when the man looked to the two demons.
Thinking a moment to soften the question, Vesper added, “The Hierarchy was riddled with visages of the Exault. Half their buildings were practically covered with the winged beasts. Yet I saw none of the shadowed Domin.”
“They’re beneath the observatory,” Ryder explained quietly. “There is a chamber equal in size. You know those traditional academic types; they have to have symbolism in all they do. They couldn’t just put His statues out in the light of day.”
Vesper nodded in understanding, waiting patiently. Still, it was a full minute before he got his answer, Ryder shooting Leandra meaningful looks until the woman finally relented.
“Over a thousand years, Dionys Malice was the last Candidate of our bloodline.” Leandra gave a small shrug. “He was not chosen but the honor to be selected as a Candidate for the shadow faced god was still great.”
Vesper didn’t respond. From what he recalled, the Candidates battled between three houses for the right to be chosen by the Heir. The remaining living survivor was chosen for the job. “How long ago was a Candidate chosen before Dionys?”
Her hair shimmering in a wave of delicate steel, Leandra’s head bowed forward, her eyes fixed on her plate. “Previously, no more than six hundred years passed between his coming.”
Vesper sighed, staring at his half-eaten plate of food. It would be extremely unlikely. It would be insane, really. Over a thousand years and no sign of the shadow faced god’s human incarnation? How accurate were the old records, truly? How much had just been fables and scare tactics to keep the people in line? He really couldn’t be expected to be called to serve the shadow faced god. It’s not like fae gods really just came down and fixed everyone’s problems. If it really happened, wouldn’t things just make more sense? Less? When there was something so much bigger in the mix, did anything anyone did actually have a value in comparison?
“We do seem a bit due,” Ryder said, his voice a low rumble. Leandra’s face was too impassive for words. It was her war face. Ryder was not a sorcerer to be crossed, by no means, but if there was anyone more dangerous than the dragon queen in the Clan, Vesper didn’t know it. She had upheld the Celestial Clan when even her own family had turned their backs on her. Her tense silence seemed word enough. Looking from his mother to his father, Vesper had to wonder how their world would change if an Heir was born. His parents had spent the last eight years preparing to lose their only son. Would they be happy or devastated to have to come to terms with a change of plans? Would it be another lost child they’d have to look forward to instead of just him?
He wondered dimly if he could reach Asher Vah, then dismissed the idea. The boy had been cryptic, not to mention annoying. Whatever the halfling’s price would be for any information was probably not worth the bother. Vesper had little interest in opening a vein. Either the little brat knew something or just suspected. If he was called to some ancient battle to the death, Vesper assumed he’d have his answer by then.
It could be decidedly more interesting than being fed off of by Heiden for uncountable years. Vesper kept that particular thought to himself. He had no desire to damn any of his relatives to his fate. Still, a battle to the death seemed far more fitting a way to die than being drained until there was nothing left of him.
Ryder surprised his son after dinner by suggesting Leandra show the two demons to Vesper’s quarter’s alone. Apprehensive with all the weapons in his rooms that could be turned against him if the demons felt threatened, Vesper would have preferred to have gone along. His father’s expression left no room for argument and with steady steps he followed the older man down the stairs and into Ryder’s personal study. He was confused to find Gibbens there, the stooped man casting the last in a list of charms on a magical device Vesper had not seen before outside of books.
“A Foure ward. For discretion,” Ryder explained tightly, ushering his son into the room and nodding to Gibbens in farewell. The servant lingered long enough to make sure the magical device on the desk was operational, then bowed out silently. A fire was roaring in the grate, burning a cool blue flame and committing no smoke but a great amount of heat. It cast the dark colored stone and wood in an eerie, ghostly glow. Most of Celestial Keep was as pale as the dragon fae that lived there but the basement rooms had a darker theme. More ancient traditions steeped in something Vesper couldn’t fully name because it was before his time. Something to do with honoring the earth magics and the night while so close to the stone of the mountain. He thought it more symbolism than useful but his mother dutifully kept with the theme whenever adjusting the decor of the rooms.
Ryder’s office was crammed with an array of books, half the bookcases dedicated to accounts and finances and the other half to magic, mostly focused on prediction and luck, two aspects that suited his occupation well. There were a few dark books but Vesper’s father kept those locked in his safe, the items too dangerous to be left out unsupervised. Like most things magical, they usually found ways of being discovered unless they were chained up.
Feeling decidedly unsettled, Vesper chose not to sit when his father offered him a chair in front of his smoothly polished walnut desk. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking around the room idly while trying to think of what he was going to do with his two new guests. It wasn’t their fault they’d been shoved into his life but it didn’t make him any less resentful to the fact. He had enough things to worry about without adding two lives to the list of things to keep from getting killed.
“Vesper, I need you to tell me what happened at the Hierarchy,” Ryder said. He leaned back against his desk instead of sitting, his stance suggesting he was dealing with his own level of nerves.
Shaking his head from his thoughts, Vesper looked up to meet his father’s gaze. “What part? Where I nearly killed Asher Vah over some boy I just met, or when I then nearly got the same boy killed by trying to pull him?”
“The entire incident will suffice,” Ryder said dryly, ignoring the huff sent his way. “I fear it is the reason Heiden has acted. Did you touch this boy?”
Vesper shook his head dully. His muscles were tense and he could feel a headache threatening just at the edge of his consciousness. Nothing was going right. “I never made contact… But it was clear to anyone that saw that I wished to,” he added with a heavy sigh. “Kruck had to physically remove Devlan and Ev—”
“No names,” Ryder interrupted with a sharp shake of his head. “Do not tempt things, Foure ward or not.”
Swallowing, Vesper nodded again while looking at the glowing device. “They had to be removed to keep me from making contact. Others saw.” Saying it aloud only revealed how much he had fucked up, Vesper inwardly cringing at the realization. Somehow he had managed to get home and not fully comprehend just how bad it had been. “Why did Heiden send me those two? What of that incident would make him think slaves were appropriate?”
Clearing his throat, Ryder straightened. “That would be revealed by what type of slaves they are.” At his son’s blank look, he added quietly, “When they were given to me, I was told they were to be your sex slaves. The two demons are your only allowable indiscretions, hand picked by Heiden himself.”
His breath stuttering to a halt, Vesper grabbed the back of the nearest chair. “Fuck, he knows,” he choked out. Would he kill him? Would Heiden kill Evan when he hadn’t even touched him? “His words exactly?” He asked, trying to keep the panic from his voice only to fail miserably.
“Draven and Lilo are the only two beings you are allowed to touch in a sexual manner without repercussions. If Heiden scents another on you outside of your immediate family or the two demon slaves, he will hunt down and kill the individual as stated in the terms of the bonding contract. You are for his enjoyment alone.”
“I’m not bonded yet,” Vesper whispered, knowing it was pointless before the words were even free.
“The tattoo was a sign of you acceptance to the contract,” Ryder reminded, his voice emotionless and steady. “You know he only waits for your exritus so he doesn’t impede your final growth.” He waited for Vesper to get ahold of himself, the boy shaken and pale. “I cannot say for certain that the two demon slaves will not be punished if you actually touch them. I asked him—I didn’t wish for anything to be unclear. Heiden’s only answer was to say that the two belonged to you in all sense of the word. I can only assume once you belong to Heiden…”
Vesper felt another wave of sick hit him. Once Heiden owned him, he owned nothing in return. No slave, no property, no title. He was a ghost from the moment the bonding started, allowed his name and nothing else, unless his master decided otherwise. If Heiden decided so, he would torment the two demons no matter what he said of them being safe.
“Tell me about him.”
Staring at the pattern of dark leaves and vines on the carpet, it took Vesper a moment to notice his father’s request.
“The boy,” Ryder prodded, grabbing his son by the bicep and guiding him beside him at the desk. “The one that caught your eye. What’s he like?”
Vesper looked at his father, biting his lower lip for a moment. “He’s cute,” he finally said, shrugging slightly. “Normal.”
“Normal?” Ryder raised a brow in surprise. “At the Hierarchy?”
Nodding, Vesper studied his father’s face a moment. “He was immune to my allure. I hadn’t seen him before and, well, I’ve known just about everyone that was going to be in my class for years now. So when I saw him… I might have tried to get his attention.” He flashed an awkward smirk. “I ended up pulling three kids that were standing in front of him while he barely looked my way.”
“Impressive.” Ryder whistled softly. “I’m sure that didn’t help matters.”
Vesper snorted softly. “No. By that point, I was ready to pull the damn room just to get the kid to look at me.” He sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair.
“Did you? Pull the room?” Ryder prompted when his son fell silent in thought again.
“No, I only wanted to.”
“I felt your power all the way from Asia. You did something.”
Gnawing on his lower lip again, Vesper gave a reluctant nod. “One of my classmates thought it would be funny to hit the kid with a feverlust enchantment. He over did it and…” He turned his gaze back to his father, something dark and desperate sparking in the boy’s crystal blue eyes. “I wanted to save him. I wanted to save him, and own him, and kill every single person that would dare to look at him. Still… I still want that and I can’t stop this crazy feeling inside.”
Silent for long moments, Ryder mulled for the right words. Vesper was certain it would be the same as his mother; the absolute insistence of what he couldn’t have, no matter how much he wanted it. Instead, Ryder replied with a question of his own, one that Vesper hadn’t expected.
“Does he return your interest?”
Vesper didn’t even have to think about it, the answer clear to him as most things had been concerning Evanel Reed. “Yes.”
“Beyond your allure?”
“He could love me if given a chance,” Vesper said fiercely. “I might love him now. When I reached my magic out to him…” He trailed off, a shudder of heat tingling through him. “He is beautiful. Fiery, angry, and damn beautiful.”
“Ah.” A smile teasing across his lips, Ryder leaned forward with a conspiring whisper. “Your mother was just about the angriest young woman I have ever had the privilege of meeting. She made it very difficult to look elsewhere when she insisted on flaying me alive with every word from her pretty mouth.”
Blinking, Vesper couldn’t help but return his father’s grin, a tension within uncoiling and melting at the man’s words. “Did you know with mother? Was it clear right away?”
“Gods, yes,” Ryder said with a laugh. “Don’t get me wrong; ultimately it was her choice no matter how much of an ass I made of myself trying to woo a dragon queen. But whenever our magic touched…” He sighed. “It was like a meeting of souls. To feel her fire was to help me burn greater. There is nothing else like it.” He gave his son an assessing look. “And I’m glad you had the opportunity to experience such a thing.”
Vesper shook his head agitatedly, abruptly pushing himself away from the desk. “I’m not. It has ruined everything. I barely know who I am anymore and I fear I’ve gotten him killed in just one meeting.”
“Vesper.” Ryder stopped him, grabbing his hand and pulling the boy back to the desk and the device it held. “You must hold on to every memory. Every moment. Do not deny your heart no matter how much trouble it wishes to get you in. It is rare to find someone you connect with. It is a true gift and you should cherish it.” He tilted his head, waiting for his son to meet his gaze again. “When things feel their worst, I can always count on my memory of your mother’s energy as it touches mine. It warms me when nothing else can. You now have his memory, brief as it might be.”
Swallowing back a retort of just how useless a memory was with the many things he was facing, Vesper just nodded. He felt close to tears, the hopelessness of his situation seemingly more concrete since having visited the Hierarchy.
“Is his energy warming?” Ryder asked softly.
Vesper shook his head. “His anger never reached his magic.” He furrowed his brow, turning away from his father.
“I did not mean to suggest he had to be like your mother,” Ryder said when Vesper seemed to shake before him. “When magics touch, it is a unique experience each time.”
“I told you, he was very normal,” Vesper whispered, his eyes glowing in the dim light as he stared at the ground. “Familiar. When I touched his magic, I felt despair. Beautiful despair.” The last words were choked out, something breaking in him to actually speak the words aloud.
His expression grim, Ryder pulled his son into a hug, silent as Vesper shook in his embrace. It took long minutes before the boy could get himself back into some control, tears streaking his porcelain cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” Vesper muttered hoarsely. “I don’t wish to burden you.”
“You haven’t. There is nothing you need to protect me or your mother from, Vesper,” Ryder said gruffly. “We’re adults. We’re strong.”
Vesper nodded weakly, his face pressed tightly to his father’s shoulder. “I just… I feel so alone.”
“I promise you, you’re not, no matter how bleak it seems.” Ryder gave his son a final, fierce squeeze, then raised his hand, magic swirling in a curtain around them. “I need you to listen to me very carefully. Do not speak, just listen. Even with the spells in place, what I’m about to say can still cause us harm if word is revealed.”
His eyes closed, Vesper let his breathing even out, turning his cheek so that he could hear his father clearer. He could feel the spell take hold, the magic forming a wall around them making his own breath bounce back on his skin.
“There was a prophecy concerning your birth.” Ryder’s voice was pitched low but his words were distinct. “This prophecy was so cursed that once it was foretold, Celestial Clan had no other recourse than to abandon your mother. You need to understand this, Vesper. They did not leave us because of Heiden. It was because of what the prophecy said of you.”
Vesper’s chest tightened painfully, the light fluttering of his lashes the only sign he was listening. He waited, not certain he wanted to know what could have ever been said that would drive his Clan away.
Ryder ducked down closer, his lips pressed to the side of his son’s head. “You are god touched.”
Breath hitching, Vesper didn’t dare move. Candidate. Asher Vah must have known. The boy had to have known about the prophecy or just that an Heir had been born or maybe just—
Ryder’s fingers brushed his chin, Vesper raising his face to meet his father’s solemn gaze. “By the maddened on, Vesper. The shining faced god has marked you.”
Jolting back as if struck, Vesper stared up at the man with wide eyes. “Father?”
Ryder held his finger to his lips. “Heiden must never know. Do you understand? If you bond with the demon, he will have an instrument of the gods. And by the goddess, you will surely be a destructive force. Your power far surpasses your mother’s already. No one in the Celestial Clan can match you, son, not even close. If your exritus is allowed to pass, what you will become…” Ryder swallowed, his expression pleading something his son couldn’t fully read.
His mouth going dry, Vesper found himself nodding to an answer that hadn’t been spoken. “I must die now.”
Ryder nodded as well, his hand heavy as it fell to the boy’s shoulder. “Soon. Your mother and I are brewing the potion together. It will be painless—A sleep you never wake from.” There were tears in the man’s eyes Ryder didn’t blink away.
“Why?” Vesper asked, his voice rough, his body shaking as he tried to comprehend the magnitude of it all. “Wouldn’t it have been better to have just killed me at birth?”
“We loved you too greatly. Even then, newly formed, you were perfect.” Ryder wiped the back of his hand across his eyes with a heavy sigh. “We were weak. We chose to sacrifice later to have the years we could with you. They were good years, Vesper, happy years. But I fear your short life was marked with only pain and loneliness. Our selfishness hurt you. Your mother and I chose to embrace the pain as consequence of the joy we did have together.” He pulled his son back into a hug. Even in his confusion, Vesper gripped him back just as tightly.
“We never would have let him have you. You had to have known that,” Ryder said with a swift kiss to Vesper’s forehead. “Death is better. Your mother saw two of Heiden’s bonded and they told her as much. They begged for death.”
“You’ll be punished,” Vesper whispered, burying his face against his father’s shoulder. “He might kill you for this.”
“I know. We all die, son. Only a few of us get to decide what we die for.” Ryder’s expression softened as he gazed down at Vesper’s bowed head. “You met a young man. Someone you could love. I am so glad you had a chance to feel such a thing. I… I was worried you might spend your entire life never having the opportunity to love.”
Vesper could not comprehend just how his parents had made it this far with all they must have known. God touched by the maddened one—How could they love him at all? No wonder the Clan had run from him. They likely feared he would kill them each, one by one. “Is this why you and mother waited to have another child?” He asked quietly. “Because of me?”
“We feared what you might become, yes,” Ryder answered carefully, meeting his son’s gaze evenly. “Out of all the records, no one has ever been marked by the shining faced god. Even still, all know…”
“He’s insane,” Vesper whispered, a cold shudder moving down his spine.
Ryder nodded silently, then tilted his head, tucking his son beneath his chin while holding him tight. “We will never let it happen. I promise you; we will save you from such a fate.”
Even though Vesper knew the only way that could be, he felt a warmth of relief at the words. Death would be better.
Vesper couldn’t sleep. Before leaving his father’s study, Ryder had suggested he take something to calm him, but Vesper had refused. He didn’t want to be calm. He didn’t want to sleep, or dream, or forget a damn fucking moment. He had less than a month to live and rest was not at the top of his priorities.
Pacing the length of his bedroom, his gaze inadvertently strayed to the adjoining room where the door was left ajar. The twins were asleep, or at least, the blue-eyed one was. Draven, the red-eyed one, was likely pretending. Vesper wasn’t sure just how things had been told to the two demons about why they were there and what was expected of them. Heiden had likely scared the fuck out of the two. From what he could see, Draven was determined to protect his brother, Lilo, even if the both of them had very little capability in doing such. The gray-skinned boy was currently curled around his brother while the two slept on one of the two beds that had been spelled up for them, claws facing outward just waiting for attack.
Vesper didn’t bother to tell them that no attack would be coming. He had little interest in coupling with either of them. Not that they weren’t attractive—They were fine enough in a slender, petite way. They were also frightened, angry, and seemed to not wish to be in his house even more than he didn’t want them to be there. Vesper had spent years curbing his own innate desires. He wasn’t about to fuck it all up during his last month just to have the two demons end up dead when Heiden realized his pet had betrayed him.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled sharply and turned on his heel. This was not the first time he had faced his death, but it was the first time it had ever felt quite so real. There had been times too numerous to count in the beginning when he had thought to just end it all. To chose death over enslavement and draining. Heiden had been so terrifying, from looks to the disgusting feel of his magic. To think such a being would one day touch him had filled him with such dread, Vesper had dreamed of sharp blades enchanted to keep wounds from closing. Still, some nights, he would take down the Celestial blades passed down through the generations and consider the ease in which all of his problems would slip away with theflow if his blood from his veins.
He was not a coward. He had repeatedly chosen to live so another didn’t have to face his fate. Now… Now, having realized he should never have lived at all, he was at a loss.
God touched.
His parents would not fail. They did not fail. Not when it came to the gods. Celestial Clan had dedicated their lives to the shadow faced god. Candidates had been in their bloodline since the first time an Heir had touched down on the Earth. Even if a Candidate hadn’t been chosen in a thousand years, it did not mean that the clan had lost their way.
Vesper just hadn’t known how absolute his fate had been decided before he had even been born.
God touched by the maddened one.
He should have killed himself. Now his parents were risking their own lives for his curse—And fine, perhaps they were responsible for not doing what needed to be done at his birth, but he refused to see it that way. They had given him life, had stood by him when his entire Clan had turned their backs. His very existence had hurt them at every turn, and still, his parents had kept their loyalty to him. He did not wish to have them be sacrificed because of him yet again.
His pacing brought him to the adjoining door again, red eyes glinting at him from the dim room. Vesper huffed, stalking past while trying to ignore the shiver of dread that went down his spine from his thoughts. Heiden knew about Evan. He may not know the name of the boy, but he knew a boy existed and it would be nothing for him to find the rest of the information. It wasn’t like he’d been discreet about any of it. No, he had made a damn ass of himself, challenging Asher Vah, pulling Evanel, then scheming with Devlan just so he could have a chance to scent the boy’s arousal again.
It had been good, though. It had been fucking divine. If he had been allowed to just touch the kid… Just kiss him. Evanel had nearly demanded a kiss. The boy would be punished anyways…
Vesper shook his head fiercely, forcing the thought aside.
Goddess, he had fucked everything up. The one boy he had ever felt anything for, he had very likely just damned. The demon twins were proof of it. Heiden would find Evan and he would destroy him. Just because he could. To send a message to him and to every bonded Malice that came after him that the rules were not a suggestion but a law. Heiden would take glee in it, whether Vesper was alive to see it at the time or not.
He had to do something. He had fucked it all up and he needed to fix it before it was too late.
Vesper sighed, his paces faltering, his gaze drawn up to the high ceiling where carvings of dragons glared down from the corners of the room. Was he allowed to pray to the goddess now that he knew? Would she curse him for being god touched by the maddened one? What god would listen to him with such a monster holding power over his soul?
Could he pray to the shadow faced god?
Blinking back tears, Vesper took heavy steps to his bed, his hands resting on the decorative cover. He could not pray to the maddened one. He had heard of men that had before and all had gone insane. The creature was demented, cruel, and all powerful. He had no interest in such a selfish, chaotic god that would destroy all for his own wants. All the Children of the Light were like that and Vesper had been taught to hate them for the destruction they wrought on the world.
But his brother, the shadow faced god, was known for his mercy. There was none other like him. While the Children of the Light squabbled and fought, destroying all in their wake, the shadow faced god came down and healed. He restored the balance, brought magic back, and always peace. He loved the beings he saved, as well as the gods he fought. The shadow faced god was mercy incarnate, and fuck, he could really use some mercy.
Decided, Vesper turned to his wardrobe, opening the wooden paneled door and skimming his fingertips through until he found a robe the color of night sky. He wrapped himself in the silky fabric, realizing for the first time just why his skin might shine so bright. God touched by the shining faced god. Made to be beautiful in his image. Beautiful, powerful, and fucking insane.
Maybe that was the new presence rising up in him. Not some primal mating brain waiting for his exritus but whatever the maddened one had imbued in him during his creation. Maybe even a piece of La Lune himself, waiting for his fae awakening to take him over and wreck havoc on the world in a way only a ruthless god could.
He could not let it happen. He would pray to the shadow faced god. Pray to his Heir if the being existed yet, reincarnated on the planet. Pray for a merciful end. It was the best he could hope for.
There was no way to tell if the shadow faced god was listening.
Vesper had gone out into the dark, stepping past the portal of his home just in case Ezella took offense. He didn’t want to ruin his family name any more than he had already. Encased in black against the mountain wind, he stood silent at the cliff’s base where the family portal led to above. He didn’t have any token of the shadow faced god, nothing to show that it was him he wished to speak to among all the many fae, ancient and new. But like all the Malices, he knew Nox Amor’s symbol and with a steady hand he drew it in the thin snow beneath his feet. There was something meditative in the curves of the rune, an interlocking spiral of power that held the light within while the darkness grew complete externally.
Vesper had given up on the gods many years ago. Being chosen by Heiden had stolen most of his faith. He still wasn’t sure just how much he believed. Something more powerful than him had marked him and cursed his family before he had even had awareness. That this creature could be more dangerous than Heiden seemed impossible, but then, there was some comfort in that as well. Maybe there being something larger in the world did not make him feel infinitely small and worthless. It had sparked a hope within, one not fully realized but already felt.
The darkness seemed to close in even greater by the time he had made the last line to the shadow faced god’s symbol. His eyes fixed on the rune, Vesper ducked his head, hunching over in the snow as he whispered to the god named Nox Amor.
He prayed for his family; for Leandra, Ryder, and their unborn child. He prayed for the Celestial Clan and his many aunts, uncles, and cousins. He prayed for Ezella’s forgiveness in his betrayal of her name because of the maddened one’s touch. He prayed for himself and whatever indiscretion he must have committed to have been chosen by the shining faced god in the first place. He prayed that Devlan wouldn’t face retaliation because of his involvement at the Hierarchy. He prayed that Lilo and Draven would be spared when he died. He begged that his brother or sister would be spared the curse of Heiden.
Then, when Vesper could think of nothing else that required his attention, he prayed for mercy for one boy. For Evan, who had done nothing but see him, and ask of him. He hadn’t shut him out when their eyes had met each time. It hadn’t been Evan’s fault but the boy would surely suffer if Heiden had his way. Vesper had taken on so much, had sacrificed without ever a word of complaint even if inside something screamed and broke each time. Surely he was due one wish of mercy.
“Just one boy,” he whispered, a note of pleading in his voice. “Just one.”
Fae gods didn’t respond to words but actions, Vesper knew that much. He just didn’t have much he could work with given his limited time and being tied to Heiden. The tattoo wasn’t active yet, but it was there, ingrained in his flesh. Any that saw him would make the connection and the more Heiden’s name was made a fool, the more likely the demon would seek revenge.
He had a plan, though, tentative as it was.
“I will do what I must, Nox Amor. I will set what I can in motion so that your hand can guide. Save him and I… I will gift you my last loyal act.”
It wasn’t right that his parents had to take on such a burden. Yes, they might have birthed him, but he wasn’t some helpless babe anymore. His exritus was upon him. He was an adult and it was his life that had caused so much turmoil. He might not have had any part in the circumstances of his birth but he could make a choice on his death. In some ways, it had been the only real choice available since Heiden. Just one he had refused to take. Out of fear. Out of selfishness for the last few moments of a life unlived.
It was coming to an end either way. Staring at the shadow faced god’s rune, the darkness closing in like a wave of water, he could swear he could feel death teasing at the edge of his consciousness. Waiting. Calling. The gods were close and surely they would hear his plea.
“I will give you my death, Nox Amor. I pledge my death to you.” The shining faced god might have claim to his life, Heiden might have second claim, but Vesper could at least say his death was his own to give. To protect his family, his clan, and the world from the shining faced god, he would kill himself before the madness took him. It was the only righteous choice he had left.
A section to comment on the Awakening series. You may find polls here, secrets answered, character bios–I’m not sure exactly yet. Please, if you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them!
As his heart slowed and the last hazes of lust left him, Evan started to feel nervous. He hadn’t seen Sebastian in years and now that he was seeing his uncle again he looked an absolute mess. Frustrated, he began pulling at his clothes, trying to get them in some sort of order. He even put his jacket and cloak on just so he could hide the torn state of his shirt and the wrinkles in his slacks.
Sebastian had taken Evan in when he was small and his mother had just disappeared. It had been great, of what he could remember. Out of all his relatives, Sebastian was his favorite even though he barely saw the man.
Sebastian was in the Guard, a military force of sorcerers. Beverly had been in the Guard too, but while she had only been a lowly soldier with little magical ability, Sebastian was among the notorious Nightbringers, an elite force of sorcerers that were unmatched by any other human and even some fae. Evan was very proud of Sebastian’s abilities even though he hated the Council of Sages that controlled the man.
His uncle had been his first taste of what those with power took. Alone with no father and a missing mother, Evan would always hate the Council that chose to take his Sebastian away from him. They had felt child rearing less important to his uncle’s duty of fighting, stealing and killing in their name. That they had also kept Sebastian from his quest to find his sister Cecilia, Evan’s mother, had been nearly as devastating. Sebastian had been certain she lived somewhere.
Brooding, Evan shook his head angrily but the bitterness wouldn’t abate. No, he had few nice thoughts when it came to the sorcerers that ran the magical world. And now he was in the Hierarchy, the place where those sorcerers were forged. The irony was not lost on him.
Nicholas sighed as the blond again tried to make his tie look anything but bedraggled. Evan was about to fold it up into his pocket when a wave of magic hit him, stopping him cold. His clothing gave a shudder, the material reforming, wrinkles smoothing out, buttons back in place and immaculate.
Hissing, Evan whirled on the elf, anger tight in his form. “That’s not okay. Don’t just spell me!”
Unmoved, Nicholas just raised an eyebrow. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already. I’m an elf, not a savage.”
Scowling, Evan tried to see it rationally, but all he could hear was Beverly’s voice warning him to never let his guard down around the fae. Sure, it looked like a simple repairing spell, but for all he knew the kid was… What? Trying to kill him by cleaning his clothes? Evan really didn’t have the paranoia or experience that his cousin Beverly had when it came to these sorts of things.
“So, what, you’re in the Guard, then?” Evan gritted out, taking the last turn down the hallway, the Hall of Beasts coming into view where he had first arrived on the campus.
Nicholas shook his head sharply, his sleek auburn hair brushing long strands across his face. “I’m as young as I look, not some ancient, sweet-faced fae. I’m still in training with the Hierarchy.” Considering a moment, he held his hand out to Evan, his frown only slightly grim. “Nicholas Taxus of the Regal Sighe Clan from the Arc Fault. I did not feel comfortable introducing myself properly back there. I’ve been loaned to the Hierarchy so that I can learn more of your human ways.”
“Oh.” Evan shook the boy’s hand gingerly, magic shooting up his arm from the simple touch. “But you’re dressed like a sorcerer. I thought you would have dressed like your Clan…” He trailed off at the boy’s haughty look. Apparently he couldn’t say anything right without sounding like an idiot.
“At the Hierarchy, all types of beings travel through every day. It’s important I’m recognized as a scholar with the school. Otherwise…” Nicholas tilted his head back the way they had come, his expression hard.
Otherwise he might have to worry about brawling with a visiting incubus like Devlan, Evan realized after a moment of thought.
“So your kind still don’t like incubi?” Evan queried, watching the boy stiffen. “Wasn’t that war ages ago?”
“We have very long lifespans,” Nicholas said, as if that explained it all. But Nicholas was young, no more than eighteen, and to the best of Evan’s knowledge, the same was true of Devlan. Neither of them would have fought in the war.
“Are you fighting now?” There wasn’t a lot of news from the Arc Fault. Maybe that would explain the elf’s anger.
Glancing Evan’s way, Nicholas gave a curt shake to his head. “The incubi are… difficult.” He didn’t seem to be willing to explain more, his eyes staring straight ahead as they walked, ignoring the beautiful statues of mythical beasts as they passed.
Evan took the time to look, having missed many of the carved works because of his rush to get to orientation. He wasn’t in a rush now, feeling a shadow of foreboding at the prospect of seeing Sebastian again. It was always a wonder if his uncle’s letter would be the last, a stray spell, sword, or bullet finally taking the man down and permanently away from him. Somehow, seeing him in person made him feel just how real it would be to lose the man as well.
He had forgotten that the elves and incubi had once been at war. It had happened hundreds of years ago right before the Providence Treaty, a dispute between the fae races on territory that had gotten out of hand. Evan only knew because of Beverly’s insistence—The woman was obsessed with the Arc Fault and its history. The war had been two different sides fighting for territory instead of dealing with the encroaching human forces led by the Possessed. She had explained just how damning the conflict had been for the fae over five hundred years ago, yet it had also paved the way for the fae sorcerer relations they now had.
Both the elves and incubi had been nearly wiped out, the ancient, powerful races killed by each other far more efficiently than any outside force. While the two prominent races warred on the continent, the Arc Fault had been on the verge of being conquered by sorcerers and ravaged by the Unnamed One’s Possessed soldiers—men and women turned into nothing more than empty husks as they did the bidding of a higher being.
No one really knew just what the hell the Unnamed One wanted with the Arc Fault, but each time it showed up, it targeted the Gate to the Outer Realms, the only portal on the planet that led out into the Fae realm. Because of the potential fall of the Gate, the elves and incubi forced a hault to their warring, banding together to stop the Possessed. The humans that had not been possessed but seeking to stop their demented colleagues had thought to take the Arc Fault for themselves until a treaty was finally brokered with the fae.
But the Providence Treaty had only been signed by the humans and the elves, the incubi too wary of the foreign sorcerers. The elves recovered faster because of the help the Treaty offered, gaining more territory and wealth while the incubi struggled to regain their standing. Five hundred years later, the incubi were still being overshadowed by the elves, their numbers mysteriously culled by shadowy events while the elves flourished and ruled the Arc Fault, the last of the pure fae land left on Earth.
It was the only land left unpolluted, protected by the magic it held within its very soil and deep below the Earth’s crust. Located in Antarctica, the fringes were well loved vacation spots where humans and fae mingled without incident. The islands had magically controlled weather with few predators and had been gifted as a compromise by the Regents, the ruling class of elven fae, to dull the anger of the Arc Fault being closed to outsiders. Even now, the fae would not allow humans, sorcerers or not, into the fae land.
Beverly, Sebastian and Cecilia’s war had been in defense of that magical land from the Unnamed One and its Possessed. It was a war that never seemed to end, just pause as new victims found their hearts filled with enough darkness to be possessed by the ancient power that sought to own the Gate to the Outer Realms.
Five hundred years ago when the treaty was signed, no human had understood just how essential it was for the Arc Fault to remain intact. They had not even known the Outer Realms existed or had thought to fear what might step through from the other side. The fae had known, enough to stop a heated war between their own when the Gate was targeted.
No human had ever stepped outside their realm of existence—It is said that to even attempt it would be instant death in the inhospitable environment. But the fae had once come from the Gate, had once mated with humans long ago and gifted them with the ability to use magic. To damage, or worse, destroy the two Gates to the Outer Realms would be to risk unhinging the Earth from its gravitational rotation and killing them all.
Their was a northern Gate on Foil Island, 50 miles from the pole and was said to be inert, the magic from the Outer Realms no longer connected. The Council of Sages had taken it over, a magical barrier keeping them and any others from accessing the portal. But the southern Gate in the Arc Fault was said to still be active and guarded fiercely. Whatever the Unnamed One was that controlled the Possessed, it wanted access to the Gate. To leave or to allow something in, no one knew. The fae were certain it would be devastating for the Earth, whatever it was.
Not that that was the reason the Council of Sages gave for defending the Gate and sending soldiers like Beverly off to war against a creature so powerful it could control unwilling armies at a time. No, it was all about keeping the strained relations between the Regents and the Council of Sages from finally snapping.
Sorcerers liked to pretend they were all powerful but against a continent full of fae they were nothing more than children playing with fire. Among the powerless null humans there was a lot of fear towards the fae, the strange beings that looked and acted so different, always stronger, faster with so much power. That fear had lead to some humans calling to attack the Arc Fault with bombs and missiles hoping to strike first before the fae could conquer them as a history of humanity had conquered their own.
It didn’t matter that all sorcerers had fae blood in them, the only reason they could do magic in the first place. It also didn’t seem to matter that at this point likely no fae existed on Earth that didn’t also have human blood flowing in their veins as well. Some fae and humans only saw their differences and held fear and hatred for those not like them.
Finding elves like Nicholas in a place of power like the Hierarchy probably wasn’t that uncommon a thing. Beverly would have called it a strategic political attempt to keep the peace. Except, Evan was pretty sure Nicholas had little skill in keeping any kind of peace given the elf’s attitude.
“Are you a prince?” Evan asked curiously as they reached the portal. He had never met an elf, nor one of the Regents. Rulers were said to be ruthless even among their own. Serena, the girl at the desk, was still there, her plastic smile looking a bit wilted at the edges as she caught sight of Nicholas. Either she had trouble with fae or just trouble with the elf—The boy was caustic, to say the least.
“Don’t be foolish,” Nicholas snapped, ignoring the girl and approaching the large mirror floating in midair. Evan just shrugged and followed. He didn’t think he was being foolish.
Nicholas didn’t seem interested in chatting—the guy seemed to have a stick up his ass. Maybe he didn’t like having to talk to humans. Evan had heard that was a thing among the fae from the Arc Fault. The area was so large they had the luxury and the magic to isolate from human beings unlike other clans that lived in less large but still human adjacent areas of the globe.
“I’m not of the Regents and have little interest in joining,” Nicholas disclosed after a terse moment. “So they had no problem sending me to this godforsaken school to be surrounded by you nearly null humans and extremely lewd, backwater fae.”
Evan again felt a flare of annoyance at Nicholas’ attitude towards the lust creatures. “You know, just because they’re different from you doesn’t mean you’re better than them. You’re going to have a hell of a time trying to get along with anyone if you keep insulting strangers you just met.”
Turning and raising his head to meet the taller boy’s eyes, Nicholas said flatly, “Maybe I’d pretend to care if you weren’t the least powerful things I’ve come across so far, human. Let’s be done with this; I have better things to be doing.”
Deciding to ignore the boy, Evan gritted his teeth. What the fuck did he care if the kid wanted to hate every person he met just because they didn’t have some level of power to reach his criteria of worth? If he had his own way, he never would have ended up in a school like this with a fae like Nicholas to begin with. He probably hated people with power as much as the elf did of those without.
The portal gave a shimmer when the elf raised his arm, Evan’s reflections shifting and the room behind them slowly fading from view. Before them another room slowly appeared, an arrival chamber in another part of the campus coming into crisp focus.
Evan didn’t travel by portal often. Although extremely convenient and not requiring any magic on the traveler’s part when the mirror was enchanted, it was also very dangerous—Or so Beverly insisted. He had never feared falling through the surface of a lake, or puddle for that matter, and being stolen away by ravenous elementals. He also didn’t think much of being hijacked when stepping through a portal, some powerful sorcerer spelling things so the traveler could end up in an unintended room or attacked mid-jump. But these were the things that plagued Beverly and kept the woman from installing a portal in the house no matter how many times Stephan would point out how inconvenient it was to go without.
Nicholas waved his arm forward, unwilling to step through until he knew Evan was going to accompany him. The smell of ozone strong in his nose, Evan stepped forward, falling through the mirror.
Sebastian looked the same as always. Tall, beautiful, and casually immaculate, his jaw bristly with his goatee, long sleek blue-black hair thrown over his shoulder carelessly but in such a way that looked perfect. Half his head was shaved down to the scalp, the flesh tattooed with an elaborate symbol of the fae warrior goddess that protected his bloodline. The ink was blue just like Sebastian’s eyes; blue, sharp and with a touch of death from beneath heavy dark eyebrows and even darker lashes. Today he was dressed in his Nightbringer’s coat, the long oily-black dragonhide jacket reaching to his boots, the collar high and making Evan’s uncle look more an aristocrat than an assassin sorcerer.
It was almost alarming finding the man in an opulent office in the Hierarchy. Not that he didn’t look like he belonged, so much as it just highlighted how Evan had only ever thought of the man as his uncle, rarely seeing him in the places of power he protected daily. He would never dare tell Sebastian that he thought the man was a pawn to his work although his uncle might say as much in muttering passing. Sebastian believed in what he did even if someone was telling him to do it at the time.
“Evanel.” Straightening from his casual sprawl against the large oak desk where he had been chatting with the other occupant of the room, Sebastian looked close to tears once catching sight of his nephew. He had been that way the last time he’d visited, Antoinette having gone off to college and Sebastian stopping in to wish her well. He was the only one Evan didn’t mind saying his full name; the man was always so gruff and emotional, it was hard to care.
“Uncle Seb, you’re hurt,” Evan noticed with a start, his eyes falling to the tattoo on the side of Sebastian’s head symbolizing Scya. A scar now ran across the thin flesh of his scalp, nearly cutting the image in half.
“It’s nothing,” Sebastian assured, crossing the distance and pulling the boy into a big hug, his long hair tickling Evan’s face. He returned the embrace gingerly, worry tightening his stomach. It wasn’t nothing. Sebastian was an Elite warrior with training among the fae of the Arc Fault. To not be able to heal the wound away, to allow his symbol of the warrior goddess of their bloodline to be tarnished in such a way… It wasn’t nothing.
“You’re shorter,” Evan whispered hollowly, holding Sebastian tighter just in case it was the last time. The man’s job was dangerous and today Evan was certain his uncle was truly mortal.
“Nah, kid, you’re just a shit ton taller.” Pulling away, he gave the blond an accessing look. “Any particular reason you reek of incubus?”
Blushing scarlet, Evan broke into a fit of coughing. He had forgotten just how sensitive his uncle’s nose was. Sebastian might look human enough even with his outlandish hairstyle, but his extreme power came from his fae blood. The man had no fangs or claws but it didn’t mean his senses weren’t as sharp as the lust creatures that Evan had been practically assaulted by.
“He had an incident,” Nicholas interjected with a disapproving tone. “I found him being fed off of by an incubus while three other lust creatures from his class watched.”
Glaring at Nicholas, Evan turned to his uncle, trying to find the words to explain it wasn’t really as bad as it sounded. At least, that part hadn’t been.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, having suspected his nephew preferred men for a while now. “Kinky. Sorry to pull you away from your fun.”
“It wasn’t…” Sighing, Evan couldn’t stop his grin. Sebastian was his favorite for a reason.
“Oh, I should introduce you to my good friend, Cory,” Sebastian said smoothly, stepping back and waving to the man at the desk. “Or I suppose, Master Cornelius Wilde, if you’re feeling very formal. Come meet my favorite, and coincidentally, only nephew.”
Evan had to bite his smile back when the sorcerer stood from his desk, the contrast between Sebastian and Cory striking. Cornelius looked much more how Evan imagined a proper warrior of sorcery to look. Sebastian was just too willowy and aristocratic featured to seem a real danger. Cornelius’s tallish frame was muscular and covered with a skew of silvery scars. He was dressed like a professor, if not a bit lazily, no tie to be seen, shirtfront half tucked, robe thrown over his chair, not to mention he wasn’t wearing any shoes. His dark blond hair framed his handsome face and fell across his eyes, short and mussed as if the man had just rolled out of bed and into his office.
“Don’t mind him,” Sebastian said when he caught Evan staring at Cornelius’s bare feet. “Cory is all glamours. He’s a fae under all that concealing magic and you know how most of them are about shoes.”
Evan nodded silently, holding his hand out to the blond when he approached. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Evan. Bast has told me a lot about you. As you can imagine, he’s excited to hear you’re coming to his old school.” Cornelius had a very wide, friendly smile, fangs glamoured away to keep humans at ease in his presence. Sleeves rolled up on his arms, Evan couldn’t help but stare at the man’s golden skin covered in thin slashes.
“If you can glamour…”
“Some things are better left out in the open,” Cornelius said simply but there was a fierceness in his warm, orange tinted eyes that gave Evan pause.
“Were you in the war with my uncle?” He finally asked, breaking from the man’s strong handshake.
“Of a sorts. Fae weren’t allowed to fight alongside the humans back then.” He glanced over to Sebastian, the brunette nodding his assent to his next words. “I met Bast on the Arc Fault while defending the Gate. Your uncle was very tenacious in his duty. He saved my life.”
“Only after Cory saved mine first,” Sebastian reminded gruffly.
“Sorry to interrupt, Master Wilde, but I’d like to go if you no longer need me,” Nicholas broke in, his mouth set in a grim line.
Evan could understand now why Nicholas was apprenticing for Cornelius; the man was a fae well adapted to live among humans, something the elf clearly struggled with.
“A little more of your time, Nicholas,” Cornelius said, his voice soft but with an edge of command. The boy scowled and folded his arms over his chest. He made no move to sit, Evan wondering if the elf would be petulant the entire time.
“I suppose I should get to the point of my visit,” Sebastian said, fixing Evan with a pointed look. “Your exritus is coming up.”
Stiffening, Evan exhaled sharply. “It’s hardly something I’ll need to worry about.”
Snorting, Sebastian grabbed his nephew by his shoulder. “Let’s see your back. I can tell from here; seventeen years and her magic is fading. The seal is weakening.”
Meeting Sebastian’s piercing gaze, Evan relented, turning and shrugging out of his robe. “I feel the same,” he muttered, paling when his shirt was pushed up. He had not told his uncle about Stephan’s new habit of beating the shit out of him when the man blissed out. Sebastian was busy trying to stay alive while killing whoever was unlucky enough to be placed in the assassin’s sights. His situation was nothing in comparison. Evan knew it now, having seen just how dangerous people were that ended up at the Hierarchy.
Hissing lowly when the boy’s scarred flesh came into sight, Sebastian laid his large hand flat on Evan’s back. “Beverly?”
“Like fuck,” Evan said with a huff. Beverly didn’t care enough to beat him.
Warmth rushed out from his uncle’s hand, moving over Evan’s back in a soothing wave. But it was just a tingling heat. The spell had no effect, Sebastian grunting as the boy’s flesh remained marred in front of him. Looking meaningfully over to Cornelius, he stepped back, the master sorcerer taking the Nightbringer’s spot to place his hand to the center of Evan’s back.
Nicholas made a choked noise of surprise when Cornelius’s spell failed as well. “There’s no reason that shouldn’t work. He’s a null. What the hell could combat the magic?”
“The seal is nearly broken, Evanel,” Sebastian muttered, reaching over and pulling Evan’s shirt down abruptly and wrapping the boy’s robe over his shoulders. “Cecilia’s magic is nearly gone, just as she had warned me would happen when she sealed you all those years ago. Be careful this summer. Your power is awakening and who the hell knows what that will bring.”
Staring resolutely at his feet, Evan didn’t say anything. Sebastian had told him that right before Cecilia had disappeared, she had asked her brother to help her with a spell. She had been desperate, nearly rabid and had made the spell by hand, needing her brother’s extra power to complete it. What the spell’s full intention was, Sebastian hadn’t known, but his sister had insisted it was to seal her baby’s powers away to keep Evan safe as long as possible. But Evan could remember feeling magic when he was younger before Stephan Grock had graced his life, so he wasn’t sure if his mother had been truthful.
Unfortunately, Cecilia wasn’t around to ask. That the seal had faded, it likely meant his mother was dead after all and never to answer questions again.
It shouldn’t have been such a blow; Sebastian had told him how he had felt his sister’s presence suddenly snuff from his awareness one day years after she had disappeared. He had not stopped promising Evan that he was looking but a fire had died in the man’s eyes. Still, Evan felt a fresh wave of sorrow, his mother’s magic soon to be no longer with him.
No one knew of the seal but him and Sebastian. Even Beverly was in the dark and, thankfully, so was Stephan. Evan hadn’t thought much of it in recent years, just glad he had a way to hide his power. Now… Now it seemed terrifying, his exritus looming before him and no way to know who he would be by the end of it.
Turning to meet his uncle’s sharp gaze, Evan asked quietly, “Will it be my father’s blood?”
“I don’t know,” Sebastian answered truthfully. “It could be your mother’s ancient fae blood that awakens like many during their exritus. It could be the goddess Scya that empowers you, as she did myself and Cecilia. Perhaps Silens; his blood runs through our family, stronger with the Tranza like Beverly.”
Evan nodded dully, feeling hollow inside. It wasn’t that he feared the fae, although some were worth fearing. He didn’t care if he ended up terrifying or strange looking, or even beautiful like his uncle. He didn’t want to be like Sebastian. The man was full of so much magic that he had to kill for a living to keep those that manipulated him from deciding he was too dangerous to let live. Sebastian’s reasons for his job were as much self-preservation as what the job itself entailed.
Sighing at Evan’s expression, Sebastian clasped the boy on the shoulder. “It’s not worth fretting over. We’ll do our best to prepare you.”
“We?” Pulled from his dark thoughts, Evan stared up at his uncle in confusion. Sebastian was a Nightbringer in the Guard. There was no way he’d be able to find the time to assist him during his exritus. It wasn’t like you could plan the exact day or anything, and the process could sometimes take weeks.
“I bought a house,” Sebastian disclosed with a small grin. “You’re an adult now, and it’s not like I’ll need to be following you around to make sure you’re not eating rocks or falling into wells. I’ll still be away a lot of the time, coming in at all hours of the night and day,” he added gruffly, shifting from foot to foot. “But you’ll have a stable home, food, and a portal to get you to school and back. There’s a huge bedroom with your name on it, Ev… If you want it.”
Evan was at a loss, something inside wrenching painfully at his uncle’s words. It had to be a dream. He had always dreamed but never allowed himself to actually hope of living again with his uncle. They had been the best years of his life, ones he could barely remember now and wanted back desperately.
“When? T-Today?” He asked shakily, his mind a whirl. He was going to live with Sebastian. No more paranoid, unfeeling Beverly or fucked up Stephan Grock. No more being afraid to relax in his own home, wondering when it would all go to shit. No more—
“Not that soon,” Sebastian said carefully, watching Evan’s expression. “The start of the school year.” Something seemed to crumple in the blond, Sebastian adding hastily, “It’s just a couple of months, that’s all. Your exritus shouldn’t start until after your birthday.”
“In June,” Evan whispered, flinching from the rawness in his own voice. Fuck. He stepped away and turned, glaring unseeingly at the floor.
The school year didn’t start until the end of August. Not only had Sebastian forgotten his birthday, but now he was facing another summer with Stephan. Fuck. This time while enrolled in the fucking Hierarchy, his seal nearly broken, and with enough magical power showing to draw a pack of lust creatures to him. The warlock was going to be furious.
“I have a mission, Ev. If I could move you in before it, I would, but there just isn’t time.” Sebastian gently turned the boy by his shoulders, looking down into his dark eyes. “If you can’t reach me when your exritus starts, I want you to call Cory. He’s more than happy to guide you through it. That’s part of the reason I called you down here.” He gave a small smile that Evan couldn’t match. “You made it to the Hierarchy, kid. You’re powerful and we’re going to do what we can to make sure you don’t end up going the wrong way because of it.”
The heat of Sebastian’s affection was threatening to warm Evan’s heart but it couldn’t quite reach. It felt eighteen years too late. One more summer too late. But he nodded to acknowledge his uncle’s words and to thank Master Wilde for offering his assistance.
Once summer came and his exritus started, there was no way Beverly would allow a portal for visitors. No way Stephan would let a strange sorcerer, fae at that, into the house to help Evan. If his exritus went bad—if he was disfigured in the transformation or started bleeding internally—there would be no one but Beverly. Evan had little faith the woman would do much to keep him from dying.
“I should get back to the tour.” Pulling away, Evan gave a quick nod to Cornelius. “It was nice to meet you, sir.” Avoiding Sebastian’s eye, he headed for the door, his throat feeling tight and legs stiff.
“Evanel.”
Falling motionless in front of the door, he couldn’t bring himself to turn. He heard Sebastian walk up behind him, the man sighing heavily.
“It’s going to be different. Better. I promise, Ev.”
Evan nodded, stone-faced and unable to speak. It shouldn’t matter. Half an hour ago he hadn’t even been thinking of Sebastian, hadn’t had any hope that his summer would be different. That he had let himself have that small hope had ruined everything and it was his own fault for wishing for something better in the first place.
“But if you’d rather, I can pay for a place of your own. Maybe in the dorms or—”
“No!” Whirling, Evan kept himself from actually shoving the man, instead grabbing Sebastian’s biceps. “That’s not what I want. I want to live with you,” he whispered furiously, glaring up at his uncle.
“Good,” Sebastian said, swiftly reaching up and pulling Evan’s hand free so he could then place something in it. “You’ll need this. A portal key to our new home.”
Staring down at the rectangular piece of marble, 37 Crescent Drive inscribed into the stone, Evan fought back tears.
“I know I wasn’t much of a guardian, Evanel. Sure as fuck would never make a proper father, that’s for sure. But if you don’t mind living with an old bachelor that comes in reeking of blood on most occasions, I’d be really happy to try and be a family.”
Nope, he was definitely crying, tears blurring his eyes, one fat drop landing on his hand. He didn’t struggle when Sebastian pulled him into another hug, the man’s coat perfect to hide his face in.
“It’s just a few months. I’ll be back in no time and we can get your room set up however you like. Then, once you get a few classes under your belt at the Hierarchy, I’ll show you how to do some fancy magic,” Sebastian muffled into Evan’s hair, not letting the boy go for long moments.
Eventually pulling away, Evan wiped his wet cheek with the back of his sleeve. “I don’t want to learn magic, Uncle Seb. I don’t want any of this.”
Staring at the boy calculatingly, Sebastian finally answered, “You’re not going to be like Beverly. And you don’t have to do the things I do—What it takes to be a Nightbringer is beyond most people’s abilities, and I’m not just talking magically. This is who you are, Evanel, even if you don’t understand just exactly what that means yet. Don’t be afraid of it. Don’t let anyone else ruin it for you.”
Evan nodded dully, having no good reply. Magic wasn’t who he was. This world wasn’t where he belonged.
“You’ll see once you have your exritus. It gets a bit confusing around this time, I remember.” Smiling wanly, Sebastian nodded his head towards Cornelius, who was giving the two space to talk while Nicholas looked about ready to jump out one of the large windows in boredom. “Cory sees it all the time with the new graduates coming in each year. You guys get a bit loopy with all that new magic in your bodies. Like a second puberty but with fangs and claws. First year is always the hardest.”
Looking over to where Cornelius was sitting quietly, the man riffling through a newspaper with mild interest, Evan had a sudden thought. “Are you two… you know. Together?” Sebastian never dated, at least, nothing serious enough that he felt the need to tell his nephew about it in his letters. He couldn’t help but think maybe his uncle’s old friend was a little bit more.
“Once, a long time ago. He had too much sense to wait around for an unreliable ass like me.” Sebastian glanced Cornelius’s way, his expression masked. “But he’s the most trustworthy man I know, Ev. You can rely on him for anything, especially at school. He’s seen more than a fair share of exrituses and he knows what to do. Just in case I can’t…”
“Is your mission dangerous?”
Sebastian nodded, his eyes hard. All Nightbringers were spelled to secrecy. Even if he had wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to tell Evan his mission. “It’s important. Bigger than the things I want out of life, otherwise nothing would make me miss your exritus. But I’m still going to make sure you’re set, kid. And who knows? Sometimes they come late. Mine was nearly a year after my eighteenth.”
Evan bit his lip, nodding tentatively. “I’m sorry I, well… I do want to live with you, Sebastian. More than anything. Just…” He swallowed, trying to fight the sorrow inside.
“Just waiting totally sucks. I know, kid.” Clapping his hand on Evan’s shoulder, Sebastian pulled the boy away from the door. “I was going to grab something to eat before I headed out. You hungry?”
After his insane morning, Evan could readily agree he was more than a little hungry.
“Good. I’ll just let Cory know and we can—”
“He can come, too,” Evan offered. “I don’t mind.” Sebastian rarely had free time and if Cornelius had been someone big in his uncle’s life at one point, Evan didn’t want to shorten their time together.
Raising his eyebrows, Sebastian nodded after a moment. “Alright. What about you, elf?” He asked Nicholas, the elf huffing at the idea of being dragged into lunch with the three of them next.
“Nicholas will be joining us,” Cornelius said, giving the boy a warning glare when he looked ready to protest. “Eating among humans is one of his more difficult adaptions.”
“If they wouldn’t chew with their mouths open,” Nicholas muttered to no one in particular, standing aside while the master sorcerer grabbed a pair of boots from under his desk and pulled them on.
“Do they care so much if you go barefoot around here?” Evan asked, curious why the professor would bother when he could just spell a glamor of boots on his feet.
“Part of deception is living the illusion,” Cornelius explained. “It’s easy enough to walk into enemy territory but the only way to truly look as if you belong is to quite literally walk in their shoes.”
It sounded too much like something Beverly would say. Evan wondered if everyone that had fought the Possessed were like that, years later just expecting the war to come again and them to be called back to the Arc Fault to fight. Cornelius was a teacher among sorcerers but he still did things as if he were waiting for bloodshed. And Sebastian… Well, he hadn’t stopped at all, had he? He was still fighting in the name of the Council of Sages, even if his targets were much smaller.
Hands buried in his pockets, Evan followed the men and elf out the office door, his thoughts too many to count at the moment. In his hand he still gripped the portal key that Sebastian had gifted him. It had been a good day. No matter all the strangeness and high emotion, and that very long unending second when he was certain he was going to be eaten by Asher. He was going to live with Sebastian and that made up for everything.
Once Sebastian left after they all shared lunch, Evan found he couldn’t focus. Not on the things Master Wilde wanted him to know in preparation for his exritus or the many things Nicholas felt the need to talk to him about when Cornelius insisted Evan share the elf’s dorm for the evening. Sebastian had a habit of moving through Evan’s life like a hurricane and this time was no different. All Evan could do was try to process now that his uncle was gone.
Nicholas, surprisingly, seemed just as impressed by Sebastian Reed as Evan tried not to be. As an elf of the Arc Fault, Nicholas had grown up with stories of the Nightbringers, the only group of humans skilled enough to be allowed entry to the continent during the Gate’s defense. They had fought side by side with the fae while other lesser humans had died to the possessed.
“I knew Master Wilde had fought in the war,” Nicholas continued, trying to draw Evan into conversation about his uncle. “But it’s kind of expected. You know, him being kind of like an ambassador at the Hierarchy. He’s very good at it; Master Wilde could train a person in sorcery or battle and they’d probably be the best by the end of it. But a real Nightbringer…” He glanced over to where Evan was staring at a painting, the two of them currently exploring the rest of the Magical Arts building. “You must be really proud of him.”
Evan nodded mutely. He was very proud of Sebastian for managing to not be dead or fucked in the head like most every other adult he knew that had been in the war with the possessed. He still would have preferred the man just be around to be his uncle. “Is Master Wilde an elf like you?” He asked, hoping to deter the boy from his hero worshiping.
“Gods, no. Ha!” Nicholas swept his gaze around the empty hall for good measure before tilting his head and whispering to the blond. “Master Wilde picked his name because he’s quite literally ‘wild.’ He’s not from any proper clan on the Arc Fault.”
At Evan’s blank look, Nicholas elaborated with an exasperated sigh, his voice pitched even lower. “It’s not really respectable to say, you see, where I’m from. You have those in Clans, like the elves and we’re very civilized. We have homes, communities, indoor plumbing… Laws,” he emphasized softly.
“What, like he’s homeless or something?” Evan asked, having no idea what the boy was talking about.
“No, he has a place to live. Probably a cave or something,” Nicholas said with a wave to his hand. “There’s are plenty of Tribes on Arc Fault with his type. They have no proper alignment or community and they don’t ever want to do anything useful besides hunt and sleep. They’re friendly enough when you don’t cross into their hunting grounds. But they have no regard for proper Clans, don’t care that the Regents rule or anything. They don’t listen to anyone.”
Fairly certain Nicholas was going on about things that really didn’t mean much to him, Evan tried again. “So if he’s not an elf, he’s an incubus?”
Huffing, Nicholas folded his arms over his chest. “Does he strike you as an incubus?” He asked tightly, looking at Evan as if he had only just realized how ignorant the boy was.
“I’m just trying to figure out if he’s like you or not.” Completely exasperated at this point, Evan whirled from the painting of some immortal fae and started walking away.
Following after the boy, Nicholas took a moment before answering. “Master Wilde doesn’t have a Clan so he doesn’t have a Clan name. I’m from the Regal Sighe Clan of elves and there are hundreds of us and we all have similar looks and magic. It’s not the same with Tribes. Even his own relatives will look different from him. They’re all unique so we just name them by their greatest Fae blood.”
“You mean their Fae ancestor? Like Sebastian’s tattoo of Scya?”
Nicholas nodded. “He probably learned of the custom from Master Wilde. He’s a fae descended from Dane. The Fae god Dane was said to be very fierce, very powerful and all his descendants are the same. Many are great warriors in his name. Master Wilde helped protect the Gate and he was integral in stopping the possessed. The Regents honored him for it after but he wasn’t interested in any of that kind of stuff, he just wanted to go back to the forest. I think the only reason he joined the Hierarchy was because of some war-hero he knew was attending here…”
Evan glanced over at the boy, Nicholas rolling his eyes as he put it together. “Your uncle is pretty badass,” the elf mumbled. “Not many humans can do the stuff he can do. And the fae that can, well, they’re usually like Master Wilde. Full of the forest and too raw and untamed to be around proper people.”
“Cory seems fine around people,” Evan said in defense of the man. “Out of all the teachers I’ve met today, he’s been the coolest. That Trundy guy was a total dick. And Master Fellet? Talk about creepy.”
“Master Fellet is a well-respected sorcerer.”
“Yeah, for a fucking creep.” Evan gave the boy a long side glance. “You’re lucky to have Master Wilde to teach you.”
Grunting, Nicholas kept his head down, his shiny auburn locks sweeping his shoulders. “He won’t teach me how to fight. Says I’m too obsessed about structure—Which is just stupid,” he snarled, his eyes flashing. “He’s the only fae here that’s been in the war and he won’t teach me a damn proper thing. Like I’m supposed to let some stupid human teach me how to fight?”
Blinking at the bitterness in the boy’s voice, Evan kept quiet. He had no idea how the fae and humans differed in fighting. But Nicholas had just been saying stuff about how Master Wilde was some sort of backwater, primitive fae, so it didn’t make a lot of sense that he’d want the man to teach him to fight if he didn’t even respect him.
“What are you looking to fight?” Evan finally asked, his curiosity too great. “Are they fighting where you’re from?”
“No.” Nicholas tossed his head back, his expression haughty. “It’s important that all fae know how to fight. Even the most well spoken fae are also warriors. We’re taught when we’re very young how to hunt and defend ourselves.”
“But you don’t know how?”
His eyes narrowed, Nicholas shook his head sharply. “My father died defending the Gate. My mother sent me to live with relatives, most of them too old and withered to teach me to fight. I had hoped to learn last summer but instead my family decided I was to move here. For the good of the Clan.” He snorted humorlessly, a bitterness to the twist of his lips. “I had hoped Master Wilde would teach me… But I seem to fail at all my tasks these days.” Sighing to himself, he led Evan out into the late afternoon light, green and unseasonably warm weather surrounding them in the gardens.
“I can show you the stadium if you want. It’s really popular.” Nicholas pointed down the field, a tall copper domed building seen straight ahead through the trees. “More statues, too.”
“Fine.” He fell in step beside the elf. He was feeling tired still, the day slipping away in a blur. “Did he say he’d never teach you, or that he wouldn’t teach you now?” Evan had a feeling Cornelius had good reason to not teach Nicholas.
“He might as well have said forever,” Nicholas snapped. “He said as long as I insist on being so obsessed with structure and caught up with the Clans, he won’t teach me. But how else am I supposed to be? I can’t just not be an elf,” the boy griped. “I can’t just open my arms to every incubus that comes skipping in or powerless human. I have to have some standards.”
Yeah, plenty of good reasons. Evan didn’t want to think of Nicholas’ haughty attitude being backed up not just with magic but an ability to slice someone through with a sword too. He was growing to like Sebastian’s old friend the more he learned of Cornelius.
Stopping in front of the shining, domed building, Evan stared up at the carvings of winged beings on the roof where copper met limestone. He wanted to call them angels but knew better, their forms varied, some long and twisted, others perfectly beautiful while among them crouched their monstrous brethren. He had already found three other depictions of the Exault at the Hierarchy so far. The deadly winged army of the fae Moon God, they were both a warning and an enticement to all that used magic. The Exault were beautiful, shining and insane like the god they served and the deadly power he gifted.
Evan was not religious, nor were many sorcerers. Sebastian had tattooed Scya on his flesh to protect him in battle, but the man didn’t observe the gods more than that. Even the fae barely spoke of the gods except when speaking of their ancestry. They believed that the powerful fae that had sired their bloodlines still lived outside of their realm, ageless and immortal.
Beverly, unfortunately, believed something similar.
Evan recognized the Exault because they were another thing Beverly was terrified of. She allowed no depictions of angels and especially none of the more popular gods, the Children of Light. Young fae and sorcerers alike would go to bed to stories of the insane siblings and their quest to woo their beautiful brother, the moon. The mad gods would fall to Earth and destroy the land each time until the shadow faced brother finally descended and silenced them all with his love, bringing peace for a short while.
Beverly told the story different, her voice a mixture of reverence and fear and full of a terrible belief that made Evan feel ill whenever he heard it. When the shadow faced god descended, he was set upon by his brothers, torn to pieces and devoured. His sacrifice of flesh was the only way to pacify the insane gods that were the Children of Light.
Beverly was a believer. Of what, Evan could not really say. Just that she held a pendant of the shadow faced god around her neck, mumbling of the importance of the sacrifice of flesh whenever she remembered the war too well. That she feared the shining gods as if she expected their armies to take flight and hunt her down was just another sad quirk of the broken woman.
“Evanel.”
“Evan,” he corrected quietly, turning his gaze from the perfect, shining face of the nearest winged statue. He tried to shake away his feeling of unease. Beverly had been right in her many fears so far. He could only hope in this she was just plain crazy.
“Evan, why didn’t the spell work on you?” Nicholas asked, his brow furrowed as he thought back to before lunch. “I can’t stop thinking of it. It was a simple healing spell—Master Wilde is not one to fail, nor is a Nightbringer. Why didn’t it work?”
Forcing his gaze to the elf, Evan could only shrug. “I don’t like magic.”
“So?” Nicholas stared up at the boy in confusion.
“So, my seal is nearly gone and I don’t like magic.” Evan stepped through the archway, his eyes moving over the statues that were carved into the walls. There really wasn’t much point in trying to explain it to the elf. He didn’t fully understand it himself. It was something in his mind that when he went to peer close and discern it, it would skitter around his awareness just to fade into the background. He did not like magic and because of it, magic did not work on him unless the matter was forced.
“What happens when your seal is gone?” Nicholas asked, apparently unwilling to let the subject drop.
“I suppose I’ll no longer be sealed,” Evan replied flippantly, ignoring the scowl the boy sent his way. “How many incubi have you met?”
Huffing, Nicholas glared at the floor. “Three.”
“Any of them beat you up or something?” Evan pressed. “Or did all your old relatives just make you think you were supposed to hate them because they did?”
Nicholas continued to glare at the tile and Evan had a feeling he had guessed the kid’s problem. “You ever been kissed by an incubus?”
Growling warningly under his breath, the elf went to stalk past Evan. “Come on, there are trophies in the back.”
Smiling to himself, Evan followed after the angry boy. “Hey, don’t knock it until you try it. He’s a really good kisser.”
Nicholas gave another vicious growl, only proving that he was listening. Evan chuckled under his breath, feeling somewhat satisfied that he had found such an easy way to piss the boy off.
Evan awoke with a gasp, his eyes snapping open to stare blankly at the dimly lit ceiling. The moon was shining in through the blinds of the dormroom he was sharing with Nicholas, casting long lines over the elf’s curled up form on his bed. The room felt strangely quiet, foreign and too large. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept outside of his room… Well, except when he ended up sleeping out in the yard to keep from running into Stephan.
He vaguely remembered falling asleep, his day having caught up to him with such an exhausting wave of dizziness he had barely made it to the bed Nicholas spelled for him. Now awake, the strangeness of the room with its odd smells and unfamiliar shadows left him feeling so out of place he couldn’t sleep.
His eyes falling shut, Evan let his dream slowly slip back in. Devlan’s odd amber eyes gazed out at him from the darkness of his mind. He suppressed a groan, his body tingling from the memory. What a pain. The incubus was waiting for him, hanging out in the gardens that surrounded the dormitory out back. His lashes fluttering open, Evan sat up slowly in bed, pushing the light sheet off of him as quietly as possible.
The dormitory was as normal a building as one could expect compared to the many ancient and luxurious stone palaces the rest of the Hierarchy was composed of. There were no statues or paintings in the hallways he walked through, likely because of the scars on the walls and floor speaking of magic gone wrong. Nicholas was on the top floor of the dormitory, apparently receiving some sort of honor with a larger room and whatnot because he was an Elite. Not every student had the privilege of apprenticing for one of the master sorcerers at the Hierarchy. The other kids seemed to think it was a big deal, looking up to the elf like he was a minor celebrity. Nicholas might have been a tight-ass but the boy still had power, something Evan was happy to ignore.
The air was still and cool when he stepped outside, the moon so bright that the soft orbs of light floating along the path were unnecessary. He tried not to think of just what the hell Devlan would want from him in the middle of the night. That he wanted to see the incubus was probably a problem all its own. After the way they had parted, Evan’s thoughts had strayed too many times to Devlan, from his annoying attitude to the firmness of his lips.
Even though the dormitory was devoid of art, he almost thought he had come across another statue in the garden when he first arrived and found Devlan leaning against a low wall. That was until the pale boy next to him moved, smoke blowing smoothly from his lips as Vesper exhaled a drag of his cigarette.
Swallowing with difficulty, Evan forced his legs to move forward even as two predatory gazes fixed on him. The two boys were beautiful in the moonlight, the night making them seem more otherworldly than before. Vesper’s eyes glowed cold fire even as Devlan’s glinted warm passion. Trouble, Evan decided. A whole lot of trouble. The hellspawn was nowhere to be seen and Devlan had called him out there through his dream.
“Wasn’t sure you’d show.” Devlan pushed himself off the wall, the tall boy back in his long leather trench coat, the buttons undone to reveal his shirtless, toned muscular chest and abs leading down to leather pants and boots.
“Yeah, well, it’s hard to ignore the guy whispering in your dreams,” Evan pointed out, stopping a few feet away from both boys. “Nice to see you’re no longer drooling on the floor.” He said it to Devlan but he couldn’t keep his eyes from moving to Vesper, the boy so still and silent and absolutely breathtaking.
Vesper looked the same as when Evan had last seen him, his straps of leather holding his blades on his otherwise bare, porcelain torso. He was still dressed in his ceremonial kilt and leather pants and boots. His white hair was loose, the long strands sparkling in the breeze. The boy looked made of the moonlight, beautiful and impassive. He was also staring back at Evan, gaze moving over the blond’s rumpled clothing and mussed hair intently. Evan wished he had his robe in that moment, suddenly feeling exposed even though he was the most dressed out of the three of them.
Devlan stepped forward, the brunette holding his hand out. Staring at it a moment, Evan reached out, letting the incubus pull him close. “You have beautiful eyes,” Devlan murmured, his lips brushing against the blond’s ear.
“You’re lame as fuck,” Evan grumbled back but didn’t pull away when the boy’s hot mouth attached to his jaw. The brunette held him by the bicep, tongue sliding slowly down the side of his neck. Evan gasped as Devlan nipped his throat, fire sparking through his body from the sharp pain. “Is this why you called me out here?” He asked unsteadily, his lashes fluttering shut when Devlan nipped him again, smooth lips immediately sucking on the sore spot after.
Fingers deftly moving down the front of Evan’s shirt, Devlan undid the blond’s top two buttons and reached for the next. “Can you blame me? We’re all leaving tomorrow morning and I won’t see you again for the entire summer.”
“So?” Evan swayed, Devlan pulling him tighter against his body, heat engulfing him when the brunette’s arms held him tight. He could feel the boy’s bare flesh against his back as he was situated within Devlan’s leather coat, lips still moving slowly down his neck. He was getting hard, Evan’s predicament growing worse when he blinked his eyes open to find Vesper watching him. The blond looked expressionless but there was a hunger in his ice blue depths as his gaze trailed down to where Devlan was pulling free the rest of his shirt buttons.
“I want to finish what we started, Reed,” Devlan murmured, his large hands finding their way under Evan’s shirt. “That you’re here makes me think you want that too.”
Biting his lip when hot hands stroked up his flat stomach and torso, Evan exhaled loudly. “And him?” He asked breathlessly, eyes flickering to the pale boy watching only feet away.
“Your chaperon for the night,” Devlan said with a snicker as he lapped a swatch on Evan’s neck, his mouth opened wide. “He wouldn’t let me call you unless he could make sure I’d behave.”
Evan wasn’t sure he was awake, his body too hot, mind feeling heavy and full of lust as he met Vesper’s haunting eyes again. Devlan’s touch was dizzying, the boy’s mouth wet and taunting as he sucked a line of small red welts down his throat and to his shoulder. Teeth nipped into his flesh, Evan tensing, then falling back weakly against the incubus’ strong form.
“Lose the shirt,” Vesper ordered softly, crushing his spent cigarette between his fingertips.
His eyes widened when he felt Devlan peel his shirt from his torso, cool night air flowing over his heated flesh and creating a contrast to the brunette’s warmth. Vesper’s eyes never left his form, Evan’s pulse increasing as he began to understand the implications of the boy’s stare.
“We’ve come to a compromise,” Devlan explained, his fingers teasing over one of the blond’s hard nipples. “Malice won’t interfere as long as he gets to watch.”
“Watch?” Evan choked out, hips rocking forward when Devlan pressed the flat of his hand down the front of his slacks. He was rock hard and both boys could tell, the night doing little to hide his state. God, he had to be dreaming. What exactly was going to be happening that Vesper wanted to watch? He didn’t remember agreeing to much of anything, just that he hadn’t slugged Devlan yet for getting too handsy with him. He still wasn’t beating the fuck out of Devlan even though the incubus was all over him and assuming he was going to let him… “Oh, fuck,” he gasped, fingers teasing over his zipper and the hard flesh beneath.
“You can tell him to stop whenever,” Vesper spoke up, gaze burning into Evan’s. “I’ll make sure he listens.”
Evan had no idea what Vesper was getting out of it. The platinum haired boy didn’t seem unhappy to be present, didn’t seem upset or saddled with some boring chore. And why would he care what Devlan did to him? Why would he agree to let the incubus touch him in the first place if only to watch?
Evan’s spinning thoughts left him with a gasp, hot fingers teasing beneath his waistband. He stared down, panting as he watched Devlan’s hand push beneath the fabric of his slacks and underwear. The brunette pushed up tight against his back, his hard cock rubbing against his ass in lazy thrusts. Groaning from just how crazy he was feeling, Evan let his head fall back against Devlan’s shoulder, his heavy eyelids open enough to see Vesper gazing to where Devlan was teasing the taut flesh beneath his clothing.
Evan could feel himself giving in to the boy’s hot touches and couldn’t find a proper reason not to. It was good. Devlan felt amazing. His touch wasn’t as insane as last time without Asher’s magic leaving him sensitive but still, his hands were rough, strong and his teeth sharp and mouth wonderfully hot. It was definitely good, dizzyingly so, Evan peering up to find the brunette’s attractive features staring down at him hungrily.
“Reed?” Devlan whispered huskily, pulling the blond back harder against him. Hot hands ran down Evan’s side, Devlan’s burning amber eyes replaced in intensity by the boy’s mouth as he kissed down his shoulder.
Evan jerked when he heard his zipper unfurl, his breath coming out in fast pants. God, was he seriously going to let the kid just— “Oh.” Devlan’s fingers traced down a wound that curved the length of his hipbone, his hips rocking into the touch reflexively.
“You’re so beautiful.” Fingers gripping his flesh roughly, Devlan pushed Evan’s pants down his thighs, the blond’s eyes fluttering shut.
Fuck, he was nearly naked in the damn garden. Evan had to wonder if he was losing his mind. But he could still remember what it had felt like to be so overcome with lust that his body had been pure fire and nothing else. Whatever this was, it wasn’t that. This was still hot, still a flood of sensation but not a drowning. When Devlan’s hands ran down his outer thighs, it wasn’t overwhelming, although damn near close.
Evan swallowed hard when he felt his underwear being pushed down, his eyes kept resolutely closed when his pants fell around his ankles. The heat of Devlan’s body suddenly withdrew, fingertips brushing his waist and hip and the faded scars marking him as the incubus slowly walked around him. He could feel the boy’s stare, could feel them both and he wasn’t sure if he could meet them, instead focusing on trying to breathe.
He gasped when those same hot fingers teased over his shaft, his eyes flying open in response. He was greeted by the sight of Devlan and Vesper glaring at him, the boys a contrast in every way except the fire in their eyes. It might have been weird the way the two looked like they wanted to devour him but Evan decided against saying anything just in case they stopped. He didn’t want it to stop even if his heart felt too fast, his flesh too hot.
Hesitantly, he traced his fingers over Devlan’s wrist, turning his hand to press the point where his jacket sleeve failed to cover. It must have been some unspoken answer because Devlan immediately grabbed him, his lips crushing his, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him up tight against his tall body.
Pushing back into the kiss, Evan parted his lips wider, tongue meeting the brunette’s stroke for stroke. His knees felt weak, Devlan’s hands supporting him even as the boy roughly squeezed his flesh, moving down to his ass and spreading his cheeks.
“Wait,” Evan gasped breathlessly around the boy’s lips, a finger sliding down his crack and teasing over his entrance. The scent of Devlan, the smoothness and roughness of his clothes, the heat of his bare flesh and the tickle of his hair was all driving him mad. Just, whatever reason he had come out there, it hadn’t been for the now two fingers probing between his cheeks, Devlan’s free arm wrapping around his waist and holding him in place. “Just… Hold on,” Evan whispered through his haze. “I don’t want to…”
“Devlan,” Vesper growled, the boy’s voice low and coarse and sending a shiver through Evan. Devlan gave a huff in reply, but his hand moved to cup Evan’s ass instead, squeezing the boy tight as he slid a leg between the blond’s thighs.
“It’s okay, Reed. I like that you say no,” Devlan said with a grin, finding the boy’s jaw and nipping. “I like that you can tell me to fuck off when no one else can.”
“Fuck off,” Evan said roughly, unable to stop his smirk when Devlan gave a hungry groan in reply and gripped his hips painfully tight, grinding his dick against his hip. “Hell.” Gripping Devlan’s sides, he pushed his hands up the boy’s torso, feeling his sweat and each ripple of muscle beneath his jacket. Devlan’s hand again began to stray, Evan moaning when a thick finger rimmed his hole in a slow circle. He grabbed the boy by the closest nipple, twisting until Devlan relented with a hiss.
“You want it, Reed. You want to be fucked so bad, I can taste it,” Devlan insisted against the boy’s throat, his tongue moving in slow swipes.
“Fuck off,” Evan growled, meaning it more that time than the first. Devlan’s response was another hungry groan, the boy’s grip demanding as he moved up and down the blond’s back and thighs. Evan had to wonder if he’d be fending the incubus off just to feed the brunette’s weird kink to hear him talk mean to him.
“Have you ever?” Vesper asked, Evan’s gaze flying to the pale boy the same moment Devlan tongued over his nipple.
“Have I…?” It was hard to focus, Vesper’s eyes glowing danger, voice entrancing and mesmerizing.
Gaze moving to where Devlan was sucking the thin flesh at the center of Evan’s chest, it took Vesper a moment to remember his question. “Have you ever been fucked?”
Evan exhaled heavily, shaking his head. His body felt so tight, Devlan’s hands again moving too boldly over his ass, the side of the boy’s palm grinding into his crack. He couldn’t stop from arching his back, his hips pushing into the touch, his hole aching at the thought of being taken.
Vesper slipped a small step forward, his head tilted and breath just a little too fast. “What if I want to see you like that? What if I want to see you filled by his cock, begging and completely dominated by Devlan? Would you for me?”
Heat flooding through him, Evan wasn’t sure if he was going to faint or come. “I don’t give a fuck what you want,” he muttered darkly even though his face was flushed, his body so tight with lust. The idea of Vesper wanting to see him like that even as he knew Devlan definitely wanted to be with him that way was just too much. God, if Vesper just pushed a little, just got those eyes of his glowing a little bit with the right command, he knew he wouldn’t fight it. He’d let the boy do just about anything to him and he was pretty sure the blond could tell.
“I’m not a toy,” Evan whispered even as he half felt like one. Devlan was licking and sucking every inch of his flesh, turning him as he wished to get better access and he wasn’t stopping the boy. No, he was rocking against him, getting off on Vesper watching him. “I’m not prey,” he amended hoarsely, fairly certain he wasn’t lying about that.
A ghost of a smile flitting across the pale boy’s lips, Vesper nodded. “No, not that, at least. Prey would know enough to be afraid, Evanel.”
Not sure exactly what the boy meant, Evan flushed, this time to hear his name said in such a way that his knees nearly threatened to buckle. Devlan gave a growl, the brunette grabbing Evan by the hips and kneeling in front of him. “Fuck… Oh, fuck,” Evan gasped out, the incubus’s mouth hot and wet, Devlan wasting no time in finding the head of his cock and engulfing him in his heat. “Fuck…”
“Do you like it?” Vesper asked, stepping around the incubus to stand next to Evan’s shuddering form. “Devlan’s usually the one with a group of young men on their knees around him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him put so much effort into a feeding. He must truly like you.”
Gasping softly from the feel of Devlan’s tongue on the underside of his shaft, the brunette eagerly taking him in deeper, Evan couldn’t answer. He didn’t know why the hell Vesper felt the need to have a fucking conversation with him at the damn moment, but the boy’s voice was sexy, his eyes bright and cheeks and lips flushed. He was nearly close enough to feel the heat from him and Evan wanted nothing more than to have the boy wrap around him, hold him so he would stop swaying, kiss him to muffle his increasingly loud cries.
“That’s it, Evanel.” His eyes moving down the blond’s body, Vesper raised his eyes to find Evan staring back, his dark eyes full of intense need. “You want to come. You want to be fucked raw until you come and then held for even longer.”
“Damn it.” Grasping Devlan’s hair too tight, Evan did his best not to fall forward. His eyes were drawn down to just how wide the brunette’s mouth was, Devlan’s lips swollen and slick with saliva and precum. “Hell.” He came with a hoarse cry, Devlan’s large hands holding him by the ass to keep him from collapsing.
“God…Just, god…” His hands were trembling and Evan couldn’t do anything about it. He closed his eyes, hoping to block both boys from his view so he could catch his breath and not feel so insane.
After drinking his cum down, Devlan continued to kiss the shaking blond, lips moving over his hips and the lithe, flat planes of his stomach. Evan wasn’t sure how he was sweating, the night air cool and him nude, but it was still too hard to think. The incubus’ hands kept squeezing the globes of his ass, kept reminding him what the boy really wanted and it was hard to remember why it was such a bad idea. It wasn’t the pain or even the fact that Devlan was an ass at times or even that they were out in the open where anyone could see them. It was definitely something he could never allow though, something that would make him too weak, too vulnerable and needing for another human being. Needing others always led to disappointment.
Vesper took another step closer, Devlan stiffening when he noticed. But the silver haired boy was only staring at Evan, watching the way sweat was dripping down his bare torso. “Tell me something about yourself, Evan. Something personal.”
His lashes blinking open, Evan found Vesper standing too close, the boy’s eyes burning ice blue fire. It made his breath catch, all worry of needing slipping from his mind. Vesper was someone that needed probably even more than him, and Evan couldn’t help but want the boy. “What?” He asked softly, resisting the urge to reach across the small space and actually touch his glowing white flesh.
“You need to tell me everything you can,” Vesper explained with a low growl, “Because I need to feel really fucking guilty.” His fingers twitched at his side, his eyes fixed on Evan’s lips as the boy panted softly for air. “Really guilty.”
“Guilty?” Evan repeated dumbly, his body responding to the boy’s tone and the hunger in Vesper’s eyes. Fuck, he really shouldn’t have come out there.
Nodding silently, Vesper took a final step closer, Evan holding his breath. Vesper’s flesh was hotter than others, the pale boy radiating such heat, it was a wonder the air didn’t wave around him. The boy dipped his head forward, his strands of white hair brushing silkily over Evan’s face and shoulder. He was close enough to see just how thick and white his eyelashes were and the perfect straight slope of his nose and swell of his lips. “I want to be the one to touch you. To fuck you. To get lost in you.” Vesper’s voice didn’t waver but his fingers gave another twitch as the boy fought with himself. “You need to remind me why that’s a bad idea, Evanel. I’m forgetting the longer I look at you.”
Evan opened his mouth to answer but no sound came out. It wasn’t a bad idea; it was a fucking brilliant idea. Vesper was so close, his lips barely inches away. “Kiss me,” Evan demanded, only to gasp when Devlan suddenly pushed him back, the incubus a shield between the two.
“Sorry, Reed.” Turning his back on the boy after throwing his clothes at him, Devlan fixed his glare on Vesper. “You want me to remind you how your demon master will kill the kid? He’ll probably just crush his throat with his fangs if he’s feeling quick about it. Maybe he’ll like how the kid looks; he could rape him first, flay the skin off of him before finally killing him. Feel fucking guilty enough yet, dumbass? You promised you’d stay at least five feet away.”
Breathing unsteadily, Vesper just nodded, his face an impassive mask again. He pulled a cigarette free from a small pocket in his kilt, lighting it with shaking fingers. “Thank you,” he finally said after a long, quiet drag.
Dressing silently, Evan didn’t bother to button his shirt. He felt shaken in a way too familiar from only hours ago. He didn’t understand just how easy it was to wish to throw his life away for Vesper but he didn’t enjoy the reality of it. He wasn’t suicidal and he sure as fuck didn’t fall in love, so he really couldn’t comprehend why he suddenly felt like both in the matter of a day.
He started when Devlan’s fingers curled around his wrist, the boy’s strange amber eyes glaring down at him. Did Devlan really like him the way Vesper had suggested? He really didn’t know shit about incubi. Devlan didn’t seem too sweet on him, but the brunette didn’t seem like the type to be sweet ever.
“I should go.”
Devlan nodded but refused to release Evan’s wrist. Instead he pulled the blond closer, wrapping the shorter boy up tight in his arms. He could feel the incubus smell his hair, something he had been certain Vesper had been doing as well. It was just another weirdness on top of everything else, Evan waiting it out. When Devlan pulled away there was a fierceness to his expression that hadn’t been there before. His fingers tangled into the blond’s shaggy hair, tilting Evan’s head back roughly. “I want you, Reed, fucked up scars and all.”
“So?” Evan retorted flatly, hating the flutter of nerves in his stomach from those very demanding words.
His glare only growing, Devlan swooped down and kissed the boy, biting at Evan’s lower lip so sharply that the blond tasted blood. Devlan lapped the stinging flesh in mild apology but Evan knew he’d be feeling the burn of it for at least the rest of the night. Maybe that had been the point. “You have a summer to decide if you want the dragon boy that will get you killed with one fucking touch, or me.” He twisted Evan’s hair tighter, his gaze moving over the boy’s face intently. “You should pick me. I want you to pick me.”
Pulling from the boy’s grasp, Evan patted his hair down while glaring at the ground. “Who says I want either of you?”
Vesper snorted, the boy sitting on the low wall and ignoring the twin glares sent his way.
“Lust creatures are designed to sense it, Reed,” Devlan finally said but Evan was barely listening. He wasn’t sure just what the fuck he had gotten himself into, but a love triangle between an incubus that was probably feeding off of every eligible guy in the Hierarchy and a boy contracted to a murderous demon hadn’t been it. Mumbling a curt ‘get bent,’ Evan wandered back to the dorm, his mind strangely blank and body numb.
Evan stood outside the gates where Beverly had dropped him off just the morning before. The air was chill, the night wrapping around him even though the lights floating kept the dark back. It felt a lifetime since he had left home and the idea of returning was a numb spot in his mind.
His Sunday had been spent avoiding Devlan and Vesper and the annoying feelings that arose every time he thought of the two boys. Nicholas had eventually decided that Evan wasn’t going to get himself mauled if left alone even if he was just a human, this being, of course, less than half an hour before Beverly was due to arrive and pick him up. Evan didn’t really care—the elf would probably make a good nursemaid or some shit if he didn’t hate on everything.
Nicholas had grown on him. He wouldn’t rush to spend a day with the boy but the kid was smart and they’d had a few interesting conversation where Evan hadn’t felt like he had to pretend to be an idiot to fit in. Nicholas didn’t care what other people thought of him to the point of being an annoying dick at times and Evan could appreciate the sentiment.
“You gonna stand there all night?” Evan finally asked, not bothering to raise his head. He was leaning on the wrought iron fence, feeling the buzz of magic trying to repel him away. It was mildly tickling and distracting enough to keep him from thinking about all the things he didn’t want to think about, mainly Sebastian and the ridiculous amount of hope and hate warring within him over moving in with his uncle.
Gilda stepped out from the shadows, her silent footsteps intentionally heavy so as not to startle him. While Evan was in his rumpled clothes of the day before, she was clad in a new set of creamy leathers, these looking more eye catching with slashes of rust orange color splashed across smooth expanse with a window to show off her cleavage and cut to cling to her tight waist and toned thighs. Her dirty blond dreads were pulled back in a thick ponytail making her unmasked violet eyes look sharper and more dangerous. But Evan had already dealt with Asher and Gilda was a sweet, sharp clawed kitten in comparison to that weird freak show.
“Wasn’t sure you’d welcome a goodbye,” Gilda said with a smirk, a wariness shown in her stance. They hadn’t spoken since Nicholas had accused the group of lust creatures of attacking Evan and, considering the incident, the boy could understand Gilda’s worry that he might never want to see her or another lust creature ever again. But Evan wasn’t a normal kid and Gilda sure as fuck wasn’t normal and he might just like the fierce siren who had led him into trouble and defended his life just as readily.
He patted his hand to the spot next to him welcomingly. “I’m going to be here a good fifteen minutes. Long enough for a goodbye or a see you later, anyways.” He hadn’t found a way out of the Hierarchy just yet. Evan could expect to see Gilda once again and he’d prefer it to be on good terms.
“Actually, I was thinking you might want to check out my village,” Gilda said with ease, going to lean against the spot Evan had indicated, only to jolt away when magic sparked at her angrily from the fence. “Fuck.” She gave the blond boy a dubious look, Evan shrugging apologetically. “Have you ever been to the Rocky Mountains? My Clan’s village is up there—A town, if you want to get technical—but you wouldn’t really recognize it as one. Half of us live at the foot of a cliff and the rest take up the old hollowed out rooms in the mountain face above. We even created a waterfall that rains down from the very top that we all swim in at the bottom. It’s really unique and the view gets tourists coming in from all over.”
Evan raised a brow, smirking slightly. “What exactly are the tourists going there to look at?”
Gilda grinned back, relaxing completely. “I’m sure it’s the mountains and sky. Totally couldn’t be all the hot women with allure my Clan is known for. Probably doesn’t hurt that we all swim naked.”
Evan snorted softly, meeting her eyes flashing with mischief. Gilda certainly sounded like she didn’t have to fear starving even when living on the side of a cliff in the middle of nowhere.
“So, what do you say?” She prodded, plucking at one of the feathers tied into her hair. “We could make a month of it or whatever. It’s not like I have pressing plans or anything. Once this Hierarchy crap starts up, it’s going to be more networking and kissing sorcerer ass until I want to hang myself.” She glanced at him sideways, her gaze assessing. “You know, unless you have plans or something.”
Evan couldn’t think of anything he’d like more than to spend his summer seeing Gilda’s village of sirens, even if they were all women. He also knew there was no way in fuck Stephan would allow it. He shrugged again, pushing his shoulder blades flat to the fence to feel the magic try and fail to snap him away. “I don’t have plans… A village of lust creatures probably wouldn’t be the best place for me given my current record.”
Fixing the boy with a stern look, Gilda tilted her chin up. “No one will fuck with you while I’m around. No one, fae or human. I can show you how to use magic, Evan. I can show you how to protect yourself.”
Evan didn’t reply, his gaze stuck on his boots. He didn’t know how to go into the whole Stephan Grock thing and wasn’t sure he even wanted to. He was used to struggling alone and somehow the idea of speaking of the problem was more anxiety causing than just living with it as he always had.
“My village has a barrier in place,” Gilda continued, “to protect visitors and us. We’re not a barbaric people even if we feed off of the lust of those who visit. It’s a symbiotic relationship. You could use help with your exritus and there is no one better equipped to help a newborn than an entire village full of fae, Evan.”
Evan forced himself to look up, finding the girl staring at him with a fair amount of worry hidden in her violet depths. He wasn’t used to that look being directed at him but he was pretty sure the girl was afraid for him. He hadn’t dared to look at his back in years—It probably hadn’t been a pretty sight.
“I can’t, Gilda. It sounds cool, really, but I can’t.”
Pursing her lips, she nodded curtly. “At least give me your contact info. We can talk and stuff until it’s time to come back here.”
“I don’t have a portal.”
Her frown growing, Gilda folded her arms over her chest. “Fine. Email, phone number. We have shielded tech at the village. We can IM.”
Evan shook his head wearily, feeling for the first time the absolute weight of his situation. “My aunt doesn’t allow technology in the house, shielded against magic or not. She might let a letter through on occasion, but that’s about it. And it can’t be with the mail cus Stephan will literally go through and throw the stuff out he doesn’t like. The only way my uncle could reach me was with the sicarius, and for real, Gilda, that shit is expensive. I think he only used them because of his work. He probably didn’t have to pay anything.”
“Your uncle is an assassin sorcerer?” At Evan’s silent nod, Gilda straightened, inhaling sharply. “Bitchin. I always wanted to get in with the Nightbringers. I don’t think the Council would even consider me because of my Clan roots, though.”
Feeling a twinge of bitterness, Evan leaned his head back against the fence, his hair fluffing up from the flow of magic. “Oh, I’m sure they’d be happy to exploit you till you’re dead. It’s the Council way.”
Gilda nodded slowly, falling silent. She ran her tongue over her sharp teeth, shooting the boy a careful look. “You know what you can get if you’re a Nightbringer?”
Evan shook his head, not sure if he really cared.
“Passage to the Arc Fault,” Gilda explained. “A lot of other shit too, but believe me, for a Clan raised outside of the ancient lands with little hope of ever seeing home, it’s a big deal. I’m going to be killing anyways—All fae train to fight the Possessed. We live too long to be allowed to pretend the Unnamed One won’t effect our lifetime. Being allowed to see what we’re fighting for, our homeland, it helps things. Reminds us what’s at stake.”
Evan processed what the girl was saying, not having realized Gilda had grown with the understanding that she was probably going to war. “Why can’t your Clan return to the Arc Fault?”
“We got too buddy buddy with the humans.” Gilda’s grin was vicious. “Don’t let the talk of the civilized, merciful Regents fool you, kid. Those elves are fucking bloody. My Clan has lived in peace with the humans, and the Regents think that we’re soft because of it. They have it in their head that we won’t kill the Possessed as needed because it’s always a mass of soulless humans running at the Gate, not fae. I can tell the difference between a Possessed and human but I have a feeling the Regents would prefer us just to kill any human that comes too close, just to be safe.”
Evan was waiting for the day when someone would tell him about a leader or government that didn’t seem ruthless as fuck. The Hierarchy probably wasn’t the place for that wish to come true.
“Anyway, don’t worry about the letter thing,” Gilda said, returning to her original point. “We’ve got ways for communication. Even if I have to hire the damn sicarius, I’ll find a way.” She flashed him a wicked smile, leaning close to whisper in his ear. “Or, you know, I could just have Devlan get you in your dreams. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
Fighting back a blush, Evan glared warningly at the cheerful girl. He had a thought to shove her into the fence but had a feeling Gilda would easily break his arm if he even attempted it. It was still a difficult urge to fight.
“What’s his deal?” Evan finally asked, wondering if Gilda might know more about the incubus because they were both Clan raised. “Is Devlan ever, you know, serious about anyone?”
Her eyes narrowing, Gilda looked him over calculatingly as she thought. “Devlan’s not a bad guy, he just gets into a shit ton of trouble. He has an attitude problem—And believe me, he was tame this weekend. Probably all the monitors in this place. Devlan gets into shit and pisses a lot of people off, especially the sorcerer types. The kid is a fucking terror with his mouth and loves to cause drama.” She sighed, fiddling with her hair again as she drew her thumb down the length of a feather. “But under it all, Devlan is a total sweetheart. I can honestly say when I don’t want to kill the kid that I actually like him. He’s never hurt a person in a way that crossed the line and, being an incubus, that would be really easy for him. He’s a loner and a jackass, but he’s not a bad guy. I can bear to share space with him… when I don’t want to beat his head in.”
She flashed him a small smile, tilting her head closer. “And he might not suck as a boyfriend. Probably. If you like that sort of thing.”
Evan huffed, glaring at his boots again. “I don’t want him for a boyfriend. I was just curious.”
“Sure, right, whatever.” Gilda waved her hand dismissively, only to continue on as if Evan hadn’t spoken. “He’s an incubus, so he’ll either be fucking you like twenty-four seven, or getting off on anything hot that walks by. You know, unless you have a huge amount of magic after your exritus to be able to feed an incubus by yourself. An incubus’ mate usually has to be really strong in power and a total sex fiend. Incubi need sex to live. Without a mate, Devlan will need to feed constantly.”
Evan scowled, hating himself for his next words. “And if he has a mate?”
Gilda wagged her eyebrows at him. “He’ll still want sex, don’t worry. Sex is kind of their thing; you really can’t expect them to be monogamous. Not easily, anyway. Incubi mate by tying their energy to their partner. It secures the incubus, grounds him so that his intense need balances out. Most incubi will mate young for that alone; some to multiple partners for the extra stabilizing energy.”
Her smile fell and she gave a little sigh. “But Devlan is all alone in this area. His Clan came from the Arc Fault not too long ago but they were wiped out. He was the only survivor. He’s living with an adoptive Clan in New York but they can only do so much for him. Incubi outside of the Arc Fault are rare, and believe me, it’s impossible for them to get back home once they leave. The few Clans that moved out in the hopes of starting a life without the Regents giving them shit all ended up wiped.”
“Shit,” Evan muttered, running his hand through his hair and patting the blond locks down. “Are the elves, like, killing them all?”
“No one knows but there are a lot of theories. It’s never obviously connected to them, you know?” Gilda’s expression suggested she thought it was, though. “An Incubus Clan was wiped just five years ago by some sort of sickness. Devlan’s Clan was taken out in a fire. They credited it to the Possessed running around at the time, the theory being that they sensed the incubi were connected to the Arc Fault and were ordered to destroy them. It was a terrible blaze—What it would take to kill a Clan of warriors fresh from the Arc Fault…” Gilda shook her head, looking off into the distance of the forest. “I don’t think the Possessed have it in them.”
Devlan had to have been a kid when it happened. Maybe a baby. That fully grown warriors similar to men like Cornelius and Sebastian in ability could have been destroyed in one fire while a baby had survived didn’t make much sense at all.
Evan could see Devlan’s glowing amber eyes in his mind, the insanity of the night before rushing over him. It had been really strange. Confusing. He wasn’t even sure why he was thinking about it. He couldn’t be with someone like Devlan—Hell, he couldn’t be with anyone.
He needed to find a way to get out of the Hierarchy and to stop thinking about dick.
Vesper’s face flashed in his mind and Evan suppressed a sigh, rubbing his hand down the front of his face. He was losing it. A fucking weekend with these people and he was losing his fucking mind. Dead. He’d end up dead. Vesper was just a really fucking hot guy—everyone thought so—in a shit situation. Evan didn’t know fuck about him except that trying to get to know Vesper Malice would end up with him being dead.
Dumb. He was being so fucking dumb.
“Keep an eye out for my letter,” Gilda spoke up, straightening and taking a few paces idly. “I’ll let you know how my exritus goes.”
“Is anything going to happen for yours?” Evan asked, unable to hide his curiosity. He knew that most human looking people got different in some way or another with their exritus. He didn’t know what it would do for a fae, especially one that already had claws and fangs.
Gilda shrugged, not looking too concerned. “Wings, maybe, but that’s rare. My allure might kick up hardcore. I’m a siren, descendant of Siren. We all know what our ancestors used to look like when the blood was strong with magic. Nowadays, you don’t see many transformations, so I’m not too worried.”
Evan blinked, his gaze on Gilda shifting dizzily. For a moment, it was like Asher was grabbing his hand and he looked around, trying to see if the boy was near and messing with his head. He couldn’t find anything beyond the light’s illuminating the dark but when Evan turned back to the girl, she still looked different, the anticipation of energy in her calm, small, fluttering wings spread out on her back with a crown of feathers rising from her forehead.
The illusion didn’t dim, Evan’s eyes narrowing when Gilda turned to him and gave him a concerned look. “You alright there?” She pressed her hand to the boy’s forehead, Evan’s gaze focusing on the petite feathers dusting her wrist.
“Come visit this summer, Evan. It’ll be fun. Safe. I can show you around and, if you want, I can even call Devlan down. It’ll be hard for him to get into trouble in a village full of sirens.”
Evan didn’t speak, his eyes glued to Gilda’s forehead and the way her eyebrows had changed, a light spray of soft feathers teasing from the tips to join her hair. He sensed the car before it pulled up, felt Beverly’s presence more than the engine.
“Think about it, Evan. We have plenty of room.” Gilda kissed his cheek before he could find the strength to move. When she pulled away, her eyes were piercing, a violet-gray storm belonging to a deadly predator, her fangs elongated, demeanor regal. She was something different and Evan was certain he was going crazy.
Evan shook himself fiercely. Beverly was there. If he knew anything, revealing any sort of insanity was equal to death; one of Beverly’s big lessons. There were plenty of reasons he could be seeing things and as he blinked a few more times, the image faded, Gilda back to being her domesticated self, the sounds of the night roaring back around him.
“Do you have a ride coming?” He asked, his voice too hoarse sounding.
Gilda gave him a look, one he was growing familiar with. “I’m teleporting home. Magic, kid. You really don’t know what you’re missing out on.”
Evan wasn’t fully convinced on that topic even after a weekend at the Hierarchy. Stephan didn’t have the power to teleport but he made a big deal about portals. Evan didn’t want to do anything that would draw the man’s attention.
Nodding goodbye to the girl, he got into the waiting SUV, staring out at the window at Gilda. He wasn’t sure, but he had a feeling he was going to miss her. Evan couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a conversation with a person. Even though Gilda was weird and a siren and all, she had listened when he talked and had been interesting. He couldn’t remember anyone ever inviting him over to their house. If Evan was the type to have friends, he’d probably put Gilda at the top of the very empty list.
A section to comment on the Awakening series. You may find polls here, secrets answered, character bios–I’m not sure exactly yet. Please, if you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them!
Evan found the group of students starting next term down the long hall and through two more large rooms. It had taken him a moment, statues still littering every room, to realize he had finally found the living and not just a colorful version of the inanimate.
It was also at this time that he realized that as formally dressed as he was, he was by no means appropriately dressed if he wanted to fit in. It was a mistake, one that Beverly would not approve of because he definitely stuck out in his suit and robes among the leather clad forms of the others. They were all dressed in Clan garb, looking like they had walked off the hunting field, or more the ritual dance depicting the hunt afterwards. Most of the clothes were still ornamental among their leather and blades, jewels and rich silks mixed in with dragon hides, leviathan scales, griffin feathers, and even one dazzling firefox fur. Evan was extremely underdressed and the eyes turning towards him as he walked in the door were already judging him for it.
He squared his shoulders and straightened, refusing to feel intimidated. He had spent a lifetime dressed in rags because Stephan didn’t think he deserved what it would cost to clothe him properly. He had never let that get to him, and he wasn’t going to let some damn overprivileged sorcerer brats think he was any less just because of his clothing. Hell, they were all just trying to show each other off anyways. It would be one thing if they were dressed for battle, at least that would have been useful. Evan wasn’t even sure how half the girls were walking, their heels so tall and skirts too tight.
There were about thirty people his own age and he suppressed another feeling of dread as he took a stance behind the group and faced towards the podium where they were gathered. The Hierarchy’s schools were by continent. In all of North America, this was all that was worthy to grace their hallways? It would be harder to slip through the cracks when there were so few students in his year.
He tried to avoid the curious gazes floating back his way, staring instead at the speaker that had yet to start speaking, the man chatting with his colleague animatedly. The students were in groups, and given they were all dressed alike, Evan had to imagine that they knew each other. Another disadvantage he could do little about. Not that it mattered. Making friends would only entrench him deeper into this world he wished to escape.
Someone slipped beside him, Evan glancing over when they stepped too close into his personal space. It was a girl, nearly as tall as him, looking more clan than ornamental with her dirty blond hair dreaded and weaved with pink and blue feathers, snakebite lip rings and skintight cream colored leather top and pants that made her tanned skin seem warm and rich. Peeking down, Evan could see she was also in a heavy pair of dragonhide boots, very much without a six inch heel. Considering they were dusty, she might of literally stepped away from a hunt to spend her weekend at the Hierarchy. She seemed less obnoxious if by clothing alone, but it didn’t mean Evan wanted her on his foot, so he took a step to the side to get some space.
Only, the girl took another step towards him, head ducked, eyes glancing his way curiously. Glaring, Evan took a large step away. “What?” He snapped when she went to follow him. “There’s plenty of room without crowding me.”
“You don’t like me,” she said with a bright smile, violet eyes glinting mischievously as she looked him over.
“I don’t even know you,” Evan said cautiously, not sure what her game was. She had a wide stance that fit well with the warrior blades strapped to her back. Very confident, very strong, very beautiful. Also, not completely human now that he saw her pointed ears covered in studs and rings, fanged teeth and long talons, which was probably why she was dressed like Clan and not in a costume.
“Well, you’re going to get to know me because you’re the first person in the place to not try to get in my pants after five seconds of being next to me,” the girl said bluntly, holding her hand out. “I’m Gilda Frey.”
Staring at her claws for a moment, Evan eventually shook the girl’s hand, her grip strong. “I’m Evan. And I’m gay, so that would be the reason for that, I guess,” he said with an awkward shrug. He really didn’t go trying to get into anyone’s pants, very much not wanting to complicate his already fucked up life.
“You’d think so, but I’m a Siren and it really doesn’t matter what you’re into when around me.” She tilted her head towards the people in front of them, Evan noticing now how the closer ones, boys and girls, had turned, staring at Gilda with very dazed expressions. Smirking, she stepped back, tugging his sleeve until he followed. It took a few steps but eventually each dazed face flushed and returned to staring at the podium as they waited for the orientation to start.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Evan said. “I’ve never met a Siren, so I really can’t say how I would act to one, guy or girl.”
“No, seriously, it really isn’t effected by gender… But we could test you out, just to see,” she mussed, looking around the room. “No male Sirens, but there are plenty of lust powered Clans around. We could try Dren, but his power doesn’t really work unless he’s trying… Ah, Vesper. Vesper is very strong. He has to stand across the room just to keep the prey off of him.”
Evan started, having gone to follow the girl’s gaze only to turn back. “Prey?”
“The pretty things that get sucked into my allure.” Pinning him with a piercing gaze, she smiled, revealing sharp fangs. “When you feed off of sex, you can’t help but see things a bit different.”
Evan swallowed hard, scratching the back of his head. “What… so you… eat people?”
Eyes widening in surprise, Gilda burst out laughing. “Oh my god, you’re like, like, so new to all this, aren’t you? Are you from some powerless family or something?”
Glancing at the people once again looking back at him, Evan didn’t answer right away. Maybe it would have been easier if he was just some ignorant hick that had never heard of sorcery, but this was the Hierarchy and being ignorant was far more dangerous than anything else. “I’m not Clan and I never met anyone Clan,” he said evenly, glad when the girl finally stopped her chuckling.
“Ah, I suppose that’s fair enough,” Gilda said lightly, once again stepping just a little too close for comfort. She ducked her head, whispering in his ear. “I’m not a cannibal, idiot. I drink down desire. It’s completely harmless… Unless you’re a prude, or something, and freak out over things like that.”
Evan could not tell if Gilda was absolutely annoying, or charming. She was definitely bold… And trying to lick him. He quickly placed a hand on her forehead and pushed her back, glaring at the smirking girl. “I don’t care what you fucking say, that is not some Clan greeting.”
“Will you look at that, you were able to push me back and everything.” Gilda’s smirk only grew the more annoyed Evan got, and he realized she was once again just testing to see if he responded to whatever magic she had that made everyone stop and stare at her.
“Are you trying to piss me off?” He wiped the side of his neck with the sleeve of his robe.
Gilda shrugged. “When all everyone does it stare at you and most of the time can barely say a word, you start looking forward to conversation. Even angry conversation. There are four other lust creatures in our class and I can talk to them easy enough. But we don’t much because we’re all just too alike.”
Evan relaxed slightly when he understood Gilda wasn’t actually trying to upset him. She was bold, she was blunt, and she was honest; all qualities he respected in a person. “Predators don’t get along much.”
“Exactly.” She smiled wider, fangs again making an appearance. “Competition. I had thought maybe you were one of us, walking in here in such inconspicuous clothing to lure the pretties into a false state of calm before you started hunting them down. But now, I can’t be so sure.”
“I’m not hunting people,” Evan said, amused.
“I can see that. But you’re also not one of the pretty prey flitting around… Not that you aren’t very pretty.”
“I’m also still very gay,” he reminded with a cough, not happy to hear himself refered to as being pretty.
Slinging an arm over his shoulders, Gilda pointed near the front of the room. “I prefer sweet things with thick thighs and hips like red over there. Most of the girls around here are very much conceited bitches and hardly sweet, though.”
Evan nodded. He was apparently not competition in any sense. “So you all know each other?”
“Years now. All sorcerers do is network. It’s damn exhausting, especially once they pegged me and started setting up inhibitors to keep me from hunting during the gatherings.” Resting lightly on the boy, she glanced down at his name badge. “It is definitely the first time I have seen you, Mr. Evanel Umbra Reed. Yet here you are at the Hierarchy of all places. How exactly does that happen?”
“Listen, Gilda, I’m more than happy to talk to you, but could you not be so touchy?” Evan lifted her arm off from around his shoulders. Physical contact was uncomfortable for him as it was, never mind with someone that kept referring to herself as a predator.
“Just the way of my kind,” she said unapologetically. “Get in my face about it enough and I’ll probably remember.”
Again, Evan found her blunt honesty appealing. She really didn’t give a fuck about anything. “My mother was Cecilia Reed. She attended here, back—”
“Oh, I know who Cecilia Reed is,” Gilda interrupted. “So you’re her bastard son, huh?”
Grinning wryly, Evan nodded. “The one and only.”
“Shit, no wonder you never came to the little socialite parties. These vicious bitches would have torn you apart.”
“Well, if you need to distance yourself to protect your reputation, I completely understand.” Evan had seen it happen before when he was younger and hadn’t understood what it meant to not know who his father was. Sorcerers were snobby, pretentious assholes that spent more time during the day listing off all their powerful relatives than actually bothering to do something substantial. He had lost friends that had been just as naïve as him until ultimately someone had informed them he wasn’t ‘appropriate’ and they had moved on. Then Stephen Grock had moved into his life and Evan had stopped even thinking about making friends.
“Please, I’m full blooded Clan and we don’t give a crap about who fucked who to produce whom. That you’re not drooling at my feet is fine enough for me.” Smiling broadly, she smacked Evan on the back, then went to put her arm on his shoulders. Evan intercepted the girl, stepping to the side and looking at her meaningfully. “Right, no touchy.”
There was a small commotion to the side, a large, angry man pushing a rather red faced boy back into the center of the crowd and away from the side of the room. Evan glanced further as he felt someone staring at him, ice blue eyes meeting his for the briefest of moments. Evan couldn’t help but stare once catching sight of the boy across the room. He was as pale as one of the statues, toned and lithe, his nearly bare chest and arms looking more sculpted than real under his straps of black leather. His hair was a bright curtain of shimmering platinum that brushed his shoulders and continued down to the center of his back, starting at his forehead in a sharp widow’s peak.
With his strong, aristocratic features and sharp eyes, he looked like some damn mystical elf, except Evan didn’t think elves ever grew over five feet, so probably not that. Definitely Clan… Another proper and predatory Clan, given the straps on his chest connected to weapons on his back. He was in some sort of ceremonial kilt, white wispy silk layered under heavy black hide and wrapped in more straps and buckles, his legs clad in leather pants underneath and heavy dragonhide boots. The boy glanced his way again and Evan immediately looked back towards the podium, not interested in getting caught staring like an idiot. Whoever he was, the boy was beautiful and likely dangerous.
“God, will this thing ever start?” Gilda muttered, flipping her dreadlocks over her shoulder.
“Are we waiting on someone?” Evan asked, trying to ignore the feeling of those sharp eyes touching on him again from the side of the room. That probably wasn’t right, being able to tell someone was looking at you. But he could tell and he couldn’t stop noticing now that he had seen the boy.
There was another commotion, the same angry man wrangling two students by their collars and dragging them towards the center of the room. Gilda glanced over this time, tsking softly. “That creature is a menace. That he’s allowed in here at all is insulting.”
Evan watched as the bald man manhandled the two girls, snapping at them to get a damn clue before striding away. He followed with his gaze, the man moving to the side and, sure enough, stopping in front of the beautiful boy that kept looking at him. Evan was certain he kept looking at him because the boy was definitely looking at him now, blue eyes almost glowing as they moved up and down his form curiously.
“Vesper Malice’s wild guard dog,” Gilda disclosed in his ear. “Don’t tangle with that bastard of a beast. He’s been enchanted not to kill but you never know with his type. Maiming and crippling aren’t quite death, after all. Vesper only has so much control over the thing.”
Eyes straying away from the pale boy, Evan took a better look at the angry man. He was unnaturally tall, muscles puffing out of his broad chest and wide shoulders even though he was in a suit. He didn’t wear sunglasses, something Evan had just assumed a bodyguard to do. No, the man’s eyes were bare, allowing everyone to see the strange fiery red orbs, no white in sight. Gold lines flowed like cracks over his face and skin, making Evan wonder just what the hell he was. “Why is he so… cracked?”
“Hellspawn. His master is a full demon, not to mention an essence eater. The dog might not be so terrible but his master is, and that’s who you deal with if you cross Vesper.”
“You mean… that boy over there is a demon?” Evan asked in a hushed whisper.
“Hell, no—You really are out of the loop. Thank god you’re pretty,” Gilda said with a shake of her head, feathers ruffling from the movement. “Vesper’s master is a demon, and a right terrible one. If you ever see the kid’s back, you’ll get it. He’s got a tattoo nearly covering all of it. He’s been marked by the demon, contracted to feed the hideous thing until one of them dies—Likely Vesper, given how long the monstrous creature has been around. That’s why he’s got the dog; to keep idiots away from his allure. The demon is a jealous thing and will probably kill anyone that makes an actual move on his prey.”
Dread shivered down Evan’s spine, his eyes again drawn to the platinum haired boy still looking his way. “What… What will the demon do to him?”
Exhaling sharply, Gilda suddenly stepped to the other side of Evan, blocking him from sight of the pale boy. “Essence eaters consume life force, not desire. Vesper’s contract starts on his birthday, when he will be slowly fed off of for how long, or how short as his fucked up master can control himself. Ten years tends to be the most a normal person can hold out, and thats with a weak demon. Vesper is not normal, and his demon is not weak. His demon is strong enough to manipulate contracts and worm its way into the Malice line, feeding off their ancestors for generations now.”
“Is this… Is this normal?” Evan asked hoarsely, realizing the beautiful boy was marked for death. “I knew demons existed but I thought they were used by sorcerers, not, well, masters of sorcerers.”
“It is unusual but not unheard of. The Malices are the most notorious for this particular problem. They bred the strongest magically and were targeted for it. They thought they were on the top of the food chain with their unearthly beauty, impossible allure and godlike powers, and then they found a predator even worse than them.”
Evan didn’t say anything as Gilda explained the situation as if it were just simple math and nature. The boy over there had not chosen his power, his family, his face or his fate. He had just been born into a bloodline where a demon feasted and he had been unfortunate enough to have caught the creature’s eye.
“So, everyone knows about this and the Malice line, and no one has done anything to help?” He finally asked, anger creeping into his voice.
“Look at you, giving a shit about an absolute stranger.” Gilda snorted softly. “What do you think would happen to anyone that tried to help? Like I said, the Malice line is about the oldest, strongest family of sorcerers out there. If they can’t defeat the beast, who the hell can? At least they were able to contract with it, keeping it from just draining them all dry in one go. They gain power from the union—Definitely an increase in fertility. Some of them probably think it’s a sweet tradeoff.”
“I have a feeling that kid over there doesn’t share your opinion,” Evan said tightly.
“He was bred for it. Like cattle for a burger. Vesper has known the score since the day he was born, so don’t waste your tears on him. He will exploit everything he can because he knows his life is short. His existence has been very comfortable up to this point and will continue to be. Not all of us can even have a guarantee of that.”
Evan just shook his head, shocked with the entire thing including how cold and heartless Gilda was about it. He was almost relieved when there was a sudden noise from the front, the crowd silencing and turning to watch as the Dean finally approached to speak. Evan tried to pay attention but his mind kept wandering back to the boy leaning against the pillars, forced to stand so far away just to keep everyone safe.
Part of the reason Evan had stuffed down any inkling of magic deep inside him and far from sight was because of Stephen Grock. Stephen was not a demon but he was a monster. He had figured out at a very young age that Stephen wanted power, and if he saw it, he would take it. Even from a small, parentless child. Evan knew what it was like to live with a predator, and not the silky, domestic type like Gilda, who was once again leaning her arm on him. Evan lived with a warlock that hated him for his bloodline and the power it naturally held while coveting it at the same time. When the warlock’s anger grew, usually after blissing out on elixirs with Beverly, he also struck out, having beaten Evan more times than he could count only to charm the marks and bruises away from sight even though the pain and scars remained.
Edward, Beverly’s son, might be able to get away with having power in front of Stephan because his mother protected him. Evan was on his own, his mother missing and probably long dead and his father an absolute mystery. Beverly was willing to give him a roof but not protection, very much a believer of survival of the fittest. Maybe Evan was stronger for it, maybe he had learned to hide and step careful or whatever nonsense his guardian liked to preach when flashing back to her time in the war. But that was him against one monster of a man. The silver haired boy was up against a demon that had ravaged his entire bloodline. It hardly seemed fair to expect him to be able to survive.
Evan closed his eyes, wincing inwardly. That wasn’t quite right. Gilda did not seem to think the boy would survive at all, just hold out for as long as possible, trying not to drown in the sick hunger of a demon.
He should mind his own business. There was nothing he could do but pity the boy. Evan had no magic, or at least, none he was willing to use. He was just some naïve, idealistic kid wishing to run away from his own crappy fate while hoping to help others do the same. The silver haired boy was in the same situation he was, just with a set master and type of death tattooed into his pale skin in black ink. They would not be able to help each other.
Evan hung back with Gilda when the group began to disperse and was led to the cafeteria for a quick meal before beginning the tour of the grounds. She had to keep her distance or her allure would start drawing students to her naturally. Evan didn’t mind, not interested in walking with the large group anyways. They weren’t the only ones to hang back, and he had a sinking suspicion that although Gilda might not enjoy talking with the other lust creatures, it was usually forced on her given they all had to deal with the same problem of keeping their distance from the crowd.
“Who’s the angry eyed thing?” A boy came up, tall with wild brown hair framing a wolfishly handsome face. He was wrapped head to toe in black clinging leather and silver chains. That he managed to walk and not make a sound while wearing the outfit was actually impressive. That he was staring at Evan like dessert was less so, and he glared back, trying not to flinch at the strange amber eyes fixed on him.
“You can read, Devlan,” Gilda said distractedly, gaze following the back of the redheaded girl she had been looking at earlier.
“If you insist,” the boy said with a smirk, fingers suddenly pulling at Evan’s robe, tugging him closer and glancing down at his name badge. “Reed… So the prodigal bastard has found his way home after all. I wasn’t expecting you to be so pretty.”
“Get the fuck off me, creep,” Evan snapped, pulling away.
“Oh, you don’t like me at all.” That the boy’s smirk grew to downright wicked. His voice, a low, seductive purr, did not do much for Evan’s nerves.
“Leave him alone,” Gilda said, turning to Devlan with a pointed stare. “He’s about the damn near most normal person I’ve had a chance to talk to without anyone drooling on my boots. I don’t need you pissing him off and sending him to hide with the prey.”
“Fine, whatever. I can’t help that’s he’s pretty and interesting enough to not like me,” Devlan muttered, holding his hands up in resignation. “And believe me, that is very interesting.”
It apparently was because when Evan looked up there were five sets of predatory eyes all staring at him, Gilda included. “Right… So you must all be… Sirens?” He asked tightly, glaring back at each of them. The silver haired boy was among them, his hellspawn bodyguard off to the side, the demonic creature more interested in the group of prey that kept being drawn to the boy than the predators he ranked among.
“Corinth, the chocolate bombshell of breasts and hips, is the only other Siren,” Gilda said abruptly, beckoning the girl forward. “We hail from the same Clan but, as you can see, we vary a lot in looks.”
Corinth was much more feminine from dress to shape, her dark umber skin clad in a deep burgundy leather dress. She had her hair shiny and straight, feathers of the same red peeking through. Her eyes were the only thing actually similar to Gilda, violet and stunning. Shaking her hand, Evan had an awkward thought. “Um, are all Sirens female?”
“They are, which is why we’re trying very hard not to laugh at you,” Devlan said mildly, reaching his hand out. “I’m your run of the mill Incubus. You’ve been out of the loop for a while, Reed. You better watch what you say or we might confuse you for one of the fluffy, pretty things we like to hunt.”
“Right, so you’re an asshole,” Evan said flatly, extracting his hand from the tight grip trying to crush his fingers.
“Yes, which just makes it even nicer that you really don’t like me for it.” Devlan looked over to Gilda, eyebrows quirking. “I was trying to figure out why you were hanging all over the sweet thing. That he kept pushing you away was fucking priceless.”
Evan was about to snap something at the rude boy when someone else stepped up and he automatically stepped back before even looking. Then Evan did see the new boy and he took another step back, warning prickling at the nape of his neck. “Er… Hello?”
The boy was stillness itself, tanned skin draped in black silks and not much else. Short and slender, he could have been much younger, but Evan thought he was actually older than all of them. He hadn’t even noticed him, everyone else so much more active and loud. He wore no shoes, instead covered in flat gold metal bracelets and anklets, including a belt of the same material. He looked like he had stepped out of a burning hot desert, white sand still clinging to his feet. There was something very unsettling about his expressionless, beautiful face and pale green eyes, his black hair long and sleek and pulled back in a low ponytail.
Devlan noticed Evan’s unease with interest. “He’s even scared of Asher.”
Evan flicked his gaze from the boy called Asher, looking to Gilda. “Should I be scared?”
Gilda shrugged, her eyes sharp as they turned to the boy who still hadn’t said anything or moved, just staring at Evan with eyes lined with dark kohl. “Asher is a bit different from the rest of us. He could stand in a crowd for hours and have no one notice him, no one effected at all…”
Eyes snapping back to the boy before him, Evan took another step back, warning sparking again. Gilda, Corinth and even the obnoxious Devlan were still domestic in his mind. This one was not, very much feeling like he was staring down a wild animal debating whether he was a meal or not.
“I will not harm you,” the boy said suddenly, his voice smooth and sultry and even more concerning to Evan’s senses because his eyes could not track the movement of his lips.
“But you want to,” Evan whispered, eyes narrowing and heart rate picking up as a shiver of fear went down his spine. He looked down, seeing now that the boy was holding his hand out as if to shake. Wetting his lips, Evan slowly reached out, stilling before he actually made contact, feeling an energy surrounding the boy’s flesh that just screamed danger. He withdrew his hand, taking another step back, eyes never leaving Asher’s face.
“Maybe not prey after all,” Devlan mussed. “We sure as fuck would never touch Asher.”
Evan was starting to wish he had ignored Gilda’s weird behavior and had just gone into the crowd of snobbish, but ultimately harmless, students.
“Come now, Asher has never harmed anyone. That we know of,” Gilda said carefully, placing a calming hand on Evan’s shoulder. “He’s got some djin in him and it just makes it feel like he’s going to slice you to shreds if you make any sudden movements. He has been perfectly respectable for as long as we’ve known him.”
Evan didn’t comment, just glad when the slender boy finally backed off. Asher made him think of blood freshly spilled and he had a feeling the boy knew it.
They all turned to the last of the group yet to greet Evan, Devlan chuckling mirthlessly at Vesper’s sharp expression, the pale boy still standing aside as if not wanting to get too close. “What’s wrong, dragon boy? If the pretty thing is this close and not succumbing, then he’s safe enough to approach and you know it.”
Vesper gave a huff, looking at Evan warily as he crossed the distance. He stopped feet away, standing a couple inches taller, luminous skin radiating something Evan couldn’t quite put his finger on. Likely the allure that forced him to have to be separated from everyone else.
“Come on, say something mean to the kid. See how he reacts,” Devlan said gleefully. Evan rolled his eyes, wondering if Devlan was going to be an ass to him forever just because he actually bothered to put the Incubus in his place in response. He’d have to stop reacting if that was the case.
“Sorry about him,” Vesper said quietly, his voice low and melodic and drawing Evan’s full attention. “We don’t get a lot of people we can talk to. And well, as you can see, we really don’t know how to be around others properly, anyways.”
“Who the fuck wants to be around them? They’re about as boring as you, Vesper,” Devlan snorted, pulling Evan by the elbow until they were both in front of the pale boy.
Evan growled, knocking his shoulder into the much taller brunette. The guy was damn annoying. “Will you get off me already?” He snapped, about ready to start punching.
Devlan slipped behind him and grabbed his biceps, holding Evan in place. “Chill out, pretty thing.”
“And stop calling me pretty!” Evan snarled, trying to wrest his shoulders free.
Ignoring him, Devlan spoke over his head. “Probably the angriest thing you’ve seen outside of your guard dog, huh, Malice? It’s got to be refreshing, considering the reach on your damn allure. When was the last time you saw anything this damn pretty want to beat the shit out of someone up close?”
Realizing that once again he was just some damn prop, Evan stopped fighting and went limp. It took a moment for Devlan’s hands to eventually loosen, the brunette bending his head to see if Evan was okay.
“Crap, did I break him?” Devlan asked worriedly, giving the blond a little shake that he managed not to react to. “Come on, Reed, I was only…”
“Being an ass, I know. Now let me go,” Evan demanded, sighing when he was finally released.
“Shit, should have known he was playing possum,” Devlan muttered, ducking away before Gilda could hit him.
Evan watched, eyes narrowed, hand absentmindedly pushing his bangs back in place. “That guys a total ass.”
“He is. It’s how he deals with his situation,” Vesper said, drawing Evan’s gaze again. This close, the boy was ridiculously beautiful, his eyes definitely glowing blue surrounded by frosted lashes and first snow skin. “He’s an incubus, usually nocturnal, usually part of a large, powerful clan. His people were wiped out during the war and he’s one of the few left. Loneliness breeds hostility…” Vesper trailed off, glancing away, making Evan wonder why the boy was not as hostile seeming as Devlan.
Evan had been alone for a long time for different reasons than allures and demon masters. He understood what it was to lose a family and to never quite have a good enough replacement. He also knew what it was like to completely isolate by choice, to protect others and himself from the messed up things in his life. Maybe he could forgive Devlan for being an ass… Just likely not that moment.
“Right. So.” Evan wanted to ask what Vesper was but there was just something about the boy that seemed to unbalance him. He probably shouldn’t be staring. Everyone always stared at these particular people and him staring at the pale boy was likely not polite. But he was very nice to stare at, and Evan was having difficulty looking away.
As if reading his mind, Vesper turned back, icy eyes searing into his. “I am descended from the celestial dragons. A race of creatures that could shapeshift. They are no longer on this planet but my bloodline still continues.”
Evan smiled faintly, raising his eyebrows. “For real? Dragon?”
Vesper nodded solemnly. “For real. We refer to them as the Scion Dragons.”
“You don’t… You don’t look like a dragon,” Evan said, biting his lip while letting his eyes wander down the boy’s nearly glowing pale skin, tones of pink and blue just catching in the light bouncing off Vesper’s neck and chest. “But if you were, I think you’d be in the mountains, right? With the snow… and clouds.” He clicked his mouth shut, realizing he must sound like an absolute idiot.
“You would be correct,” Vesper said, his low voice showing a hint of amusement. “If you were to touch me, you would see that my body temperature is actually warmer than most to accommodate such cold conditions.”
Blinking at the ice blue eyes that seemed to be glowing even brighter, Evan hesitantly raised his hand towards the boy’s toned arm. He hovered inches away, feeling the heat and magic roiling off Vesper’s pale form. “That’s… different,” he said, fighting the very overwhelming desire to actually touch the boy. A desire he was certain was not fully his own but might be coming from the very bright eyes burning into him.
A hand suddenly grabbed Evan’s, Gilda pulling him away from Vesper tensely. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re playing at, Malice. Get ahold of yourself.”
Vesper closed his eyes, breathing deep. When he opened them again, the blue glow was gone. Glancing at the group, he paused on the quiet and motionless Asher. “It won’t happen again,” he said stiffly, stepping away from the rest of them and avoiding Evan’s confused gaze.
“Relax, Gilda. He probably hasn’t talked to anyone normal in years, and that includes us,” Devlan said under his breath. “He stopped going to the gatherings once he got the tattoo. He’s just a little out of practice.”
“I don’t care. He knows the consequences. That’s why he brought his demon dog. He shouldn’t be looking at anyone like that, never mind trying to get the kid to touch him.” Gilda let go of Evan, turning to him with a serious look. “Don’t ever touch him, Evan. Ever.”
“Why?” He asked, eyes straying to where Vesper had ended up, the tall angry guard now beside him as they waited out of earshot by the exit. He hadn’t felt anything dangerous about Vesper. But then, maybe that was what made a predator dangerous? “Would he have hurt me?”
“No,” Devlan snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Vesper abhors violence unless it’s of a righteous nature. But she’s right. You should never touch him.”
“It’s easy to forget,” Corinth said with a sad smile. “Vesper is actually quite noble. But his demon lover will kill anyone who touches him. It’s best to just keep your distance.”
Evan was very confused now. “I thought he was owned by a demon. Not… not loved.”
“Holy hell, this boy is goddamn adorable,” Devlan said with a shake of his head. “Gilda, you best watch him because I make no promises to not hunt him down at night. That he doesn’t like me just makes it that much more fun.”
“Keep it in your pants, Devlan,” Gilda growled. “Evan, his demon master will feed off of him. He will slowly drain him dry over the years.”
“Right,” Evan said, waiting for how that was supposed to make sense to what Corinth had said.
“Vesper’s a lust creature, a dragon…” Seeing Evan was still not getting it, she rolled her eyes and finally just said, “Through sex. The demon steals his essence through sex.”
Corinth added in a kinder tone, “While a normal lust creature would only feed off desire, the demon will steal Vesper’s life essence, slowly killing him.”
“My god—How can you all just, just say that so plainly?” Evan whispered weakly, his stomach twisting in knots, heat flushing his body in a wave of nausea. “He’s going to… Shit… Be raped to death. How can you all be so fucking uncaring?”
Exchanging glances with Devlan and Corinth, Gilda finally spoke, her voice guarded. “It’s not necessarily unpleasant.”
“He is going to be killed, drained of his life before the age of thirty, and you want to tell me at least he might get off on it?” Evan hissed back, glaring at all of them. “No wonder none of you have friends. I figured anyone you called prey likely wouldn’t get along with you. But he’s supposed to be just like you and you can’t even have an actual emotion for his situation.”
Asher was suddenly in front of Evan, staring at him unblinkingly. Before he had as chance to step back, the boy grabbed his wrist, holding him in place with his slim hand. Evan tried to move but couldn’t, completely frozen, eyes wide open to see the green-eyed boy smile lazily at him. Asher would not let go and Evan could not, no matter how hard he fought, move even enough to breathe.
Through his growing panic, Evan could smell the blood. Fresh, moist, it dripped warm turrets down his hand now caught in Asher’s unbreakable grasp. Death. This strange boy was a death creature. And by his smile, he was hungry.
“Asher, what are you doing?” Gilda asked with a false sense of calm, her hand reaching to her back where she kept her blades.
Evan, his body completely frozen, felt his awareness begin to expand. He could hear the shift of fabric and chains when Devlan moved, the tall brunette stepping to get to the other side of the boy holding him captive. He could feel Corinth’s fear, the emotion almost as palpable along with the trickle of guilt that went with it as she stepped back, eyes moving from Asher to Evan’s trapped hand. He could even taste Gilda’s blade, blood having coated it recently even though it shone clean and bright now.
“Let him go, Asher,” Gilda demanded louder, her voice full of tension. Evan could feel that too, the energy in the air full of anticipated movement. But Gilda wouldn’t attack. Asher was more powerful, the boy something more than just a lust creature but a death creature. Evan stopped focusing on the others and instead brought his attention to the boy holding his wrist.
Asher was finally truly visible to Evan, the slightest swaying of his slender body as he stood, his chest rising gently with each breath he took. He actually seemed quite normal except for his fangs and his claws and the fact that he was coated in blood. It dripped down Asher’s skin, painting his tanned flesh red, his face the only part of him free of the scarlet wash. Except his mouth, his lips wet with blood, white teeth revealing red within each space between.
“Can you see me, Evanel?”
Staring at the boy, Evan tried to say yes, his mouth not moving. But Asher seemed to understand, his head tilting, eyes squinting slightly as he grinned wider and revealed more crimson stained teeth.
“I believe we share something in common. You are very similar… Can you feel it? Can you feel just how alike we are?”
Evan could not, fairly certain that whatever the fuck the boy was, they were nothing alike.
“Don’t be so quick to answer just yet.” Asher reached his other hand forward, touching Evan’s throat, claws scratching ever so threateningly against his skin. “Don’t you think it’s odd? You walked into a room full of sorcerers and ended up with the five creatures that feed off of them?”
Evan hadn’t been really thinking that at all, wondering instead if this boy was going to rip his throat out with his claws and bathe in his blood. He allowed himself to ponder the question only because Asher’s pale, leaf green eyes were very close to his and he would rather look at them and wonder how he had gotten to this moment, then focus on the blood dripping from the boy’s lips in front of him.
“You see, yes? This was your first time meeting your magical peers and you surrounded yourself with the most dangerous beings in the room. It’s a bit peculiar, isn’t it?”
Evan had to admit that yes, him feeling comfortable around a bunch of magical predators was probably very odd, especially since he did not consider himself to be one. Especially since he was certain he was going to be mauled by the particular one holding him still and baring his teeth.
Asher did not seem to be done with his one sided conversation, stepping closer, voice curling dark whispers in his ear. “And for some very confusing, very interesting reason, we all want to pet you.”
Evan stared at the boy in disbelief—At least, he felt disbelief, his face still not responding to his commands. He watched, Asher’s hand moving up, bloodied fingers brushing lightly over his bangs. Claws dug in combing long strokes, flicking Evan’s ash blond hair back and staining the locks red with each pass.
“You can see how we are similar.” Asher leaned closer, bloodstained mouth now pressed to Evan’s ear. “I give off a call to bring the weak and foolish closer so I can taste them. While you… you give off a call that brings the predators to you.”
If Evan could have gulped, he would have, feeling Asher’s tongue lick slowly up his neck. Was he calling them? Like some sort of allure?
“What are you calling us for, Evanel?” Asher whispered, his voice growing harder, a steel edge of tension. “I have never had someone call me before. I do not like it. Do you want me to taste you? Save you? Why in the world would you call a room full of hunters… just to be petted?”
“Asher, I will only say this once. Let the boy go or I will kill you.”
Evan focused away from the hand touching his hair and the mouth breathing against his throat. Vesper was a hot, blinding power in the room, his energy not only tall as it reached up to the ceiling, but beautiful refracted color and light. He was angry, restrained yet resigned, his muscles full of anticipation of deadly force. There was also a dark tone beneath it all, a primal desire to fight and kill and mate.
“Yes, he is full of dark need,” Asher whispered, Evan realizing that the boy could read everything he could as if they were merely sharing the predator’s senses while in the trapped state. “That is why the demon chose him. Out of his many cousins, Vesper had the greatest depths of need. That he denies himself at every turn only grows it greater. He wants to pet you too and cannot even allow himself that while all of us have had at least one touch of your skin.”
Evan could feel the shifts in Vesper, the anticipation growing, movement to come ever more certain while the others stepped away to give the boy room.
“I want you to remember this moment, Evanel.” Asher turned Evan’s head, forcing him to meet his eyes again. “I showed you my true self. I held your hand, I caressed your head and I tasted your skin. I did you no harm.” He stood on tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to Evan’s lips.
Asher stepped back, hand still tight on his wrist. “I chose not to destroy you when I was clearly the superior. Remember this on the day you reveal your true self. I have earned your mercy.” Slowly he lifted his fingers from Evan’s wrist. Asher’s hand was gone, the boy was gone, the world roaring back into focus in excruciating volume.
Evan fell to his knees, gasping for air. He had not been breathing. He did not know for how long but he was faint, his sight dimmed with black, red burning his lungs and veins as oxygen returned. Blearily he could smell blood, his tastebuds tingling with the metal tang. Worse, his body was aroused as if whatever Asher had done to him had been the greatest of pleasures and not a very possible death. Evan’s skin was alive with energy, sparking each nerve and cell and filling him with unbearable need.
“Fucking… sick… blood covered… freak,” Evan panted out, fighting a moan that broke free when someone touched his arm to help him stand. Gilda immediately withdrew, Evan whimpering and resting his forehead on the floor, his skin alive with want. Turning his face, he found them all crouched around him, even the now motionless, blood free Asher, five sets of hungry eyes glaring at him. Devlan was the first to crack, fingers twitching towards him only to have Vesper hiss warningly.
“Do not!” The pale boy demanded, Devlan growling petulantly.
“But he’s just—”
“No!”
“But he’s dripping! It’s just going to waste.”
“So help me, if you touch him I will slice your hand off. He has been assaulted and nearly asphyxiated. Hardly acceptable terms for a feast!”
“What harm would it do?” Corinth murmured reasonably. “It won’t injure him. It might even ease his suffering. Are you suffering, Evanel? Do you want us to help you?”
Evan was trying to figure out how a group of people, who had gone from trying to save him to trying to eat him alive, thought they were going to help him. “I would really appreciate it… if you would all just… get the fuck away from me,” he gasped out.
Devlan groaned and closed his eyes. “Angry, tasty, pretty thing.”
“You can’t really expect to stop yourselves,” Asher said smoothly. “His allure is just making it worse.”
Vesper snarled, rounding on the boy. “Allure! That you would try and justify your actions over something as impossible as allure—”
“You can pretend all you like, Vesper, but you are just as lost as the rest of us,” Devlan snapped. “You even tried to call the kid. Right next to your demon dog, you tried to call Reed to touch you. He better have an allure or you’re fucking cracking, man.”
“He does have a call. Some sort of allure,” Gilda said tightly. “We all feel it—We just spent so long thinking that such a thing wasn’t possible that we chose to ignore the plain facts of it.”
“That does not justify groping him,” Vesper said tightly.
“Just because you deny yourself at every turn, does not mean the rest of us have to,” Devlan growled lowly, his voice rougher with his restrained need. “He is saturated with desire. There is no harm to just touch his skin and taste it.”
Hissing louder, Vesper glared at Devlan, his eyes glowing bright.
“That won’t work on me, dragon boy. You can’t compel me like some fucking prey!”
Asher snickered. “Unless you’re Evanel, you mean.”
“If there is no harm in it, why have you not asked him?” Vesper shot out, ignoring Asher. “You know his answer and you wish to ignore it. He does not fall to your allure—You will be taking what isn’t freely given.”
Devlan growled again, softer. “He’s ignorant. Probably thinks we’re going to hurt him. Right, Reed?”
“Fuck… off,” Evan gritted out, wishing everyone would shut up and leave already. His body was aching, fire moving through him in wave after wave. The feeling was only getting worse, need growing inside him, threatening to overwhelm him fully. His clothes felt suffocating, harsh fabric weighing him down, wrapping around him and tangling. He pushed his robe off, grabbing for the tie that was determined to strangle him and tearing it wide, groaning as it was free.
“Evan, please try to calm down,” Gilda said quietly, soothingly. “You need to try and cool the fire in you.”
Barking a harsh laugh, Evan threaded fingers through the gaps in his shirt, buttons flying off as he wrenched down. “I’m trying… to cool off,” he whimpered, falling back against the floor, eyes catching sight of the blood all over his hand. That damn freak had been covered in blood. Asher was walking around, covered in something’s or someone’s blood.
“He won’t be able to stop the fire,” Asher said, smirking as he watched Evan flinch from his own hand and start wiping it on the floor, streaking the marble red. “I had to go to extreme measures just to see if he could even succumb. He is very resistant to compulsion.”
“You didn’t have to do anything! You could have left him the fuck alone like you do everyone else, Asher Vah!” Vesper was vibrating with barely contained rage.
Asher merely shrugged, a hiccup of a motion through his small frame. “He was interesting. Is still… very interesting.” His fingers reached for Evan, flinching back moments before Vesper swung his hand down, a long, narrow blade just missing the boy’s hand.
Evan barely noticed, struggling with his suit jacket, his arms refusing to move properly. “Damn it.” He felt trapped, drowning in fabric, every movement restricted and weak. “I can’t… For fuck… sake.” His body was agony, burning, restricted agony.
“Vesper, he’s going to hurt himself,” Gilda said urgently. “Asher has spelled him so powerfully, he’s barely conscious of us. Let us help him calm.”
Vesper didn’t say anything for a long moment, just growled low and long while watching Evan fight to get his arm free from the way he had managed to tangle it within his suit jacket. “One,” he finally grunted. “Not Asher, and only to calm him. If you try to take advantage, I’ll sic the hellspawn on you.”
Gilda, Corinth and Devlan exchanged narrowed glances. “You don’t even like boys,” Devlan said bluntly to Gilda. “Let someone that will enjoy it help him.”
“Like you want to help him,” Gilda shot back. “You’ve been clear that all you want is to screw the kid since seeing him.”
“All the more reason. I can sense he likes boys and I’m more than happy to accommodate.”
“You’re lying,” Corinth hissed. “You would say anything to gain the upper hand.”
Gilda sighed, pushing her hair back. “Oh, Devlan definitely would. But he’s right. Evan told me he was gay. He had thought that was why he was immune to my allure.”
“Pretty and naïve,” Devlan said with a wolfish grin, unfurling from his crouch.
“Wait,” Vesper growled, meeting Devlan’s eye. “Promise me you’ll have some fucking restraint. I’m not joking. He’s been through enough.”
Gaze straying towards the motionless Asher, Devlan shivered, his smile falling away. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”
Evan barely heard the exchange and understood even less of it. All he knew was his struggle, trying not to break his arm while getting it out of his jacket when suddenly strong hands were helping, his arm abruptly pulled free.
“Crap, what the fuck did he do—Asher, whose blood is this?” Devlan snapped, eyes taking in Evan’s mouth and neck coated in the red.
“Not his,” Asher said simply, watching Evan’s suit jacket slide across the floor, his tie quickly following.
“Damn it… just… hot,” Evan gasped out, face flushed, hair askew as he fell back on the floor, someone sitting on his thighs. He managed to crack his eyes open while pulling weakly at his dress shirt and the stifling t-shirt still clinging to him. It was the asshole, the rude boy that kept trying to piss him off and touch him, now straddling his legs and looking down at him expectantly. “Get bent,” he growled angrily, his voice weak in his own ears.
“He really shouldn’t be allowed to talk if I’m supposed to behave,” Devlan said hoarsely. He leaned over Evan’s chest, peeling the collar of his button down shirt over his shoulders and wrenching down his arms. He stopped half way, Evan’s arms pinned to his side by the shirt stretching over his forearms. “There we are, Reed. That should keep you out of trouble.”
Evan really did not like how Devlan was looking at him but was having a difficult time arguing, his body feeling on fire, muscles so tense he wondered if they might snap. He struggled when the brunette descended on him again, long fingers sliding under the hem of his t-shirt just brushing his skin as it was pushed up. He did not want his shirt off in front of these people but again could not keep his thoughts straight. The simple touch of fingers had sparked pleasure in him so great he nearly slammed his head into the hard floor, his back arching, vision going white.
“Holy shit,” Devlan hissed, tearing Evan’s shirt up, folding the soft material until it was stretched just above his chest and exposing all of the blond’s torso down to his belt to view.
“This can’t be right,” Gilda muttered, everyone leaning in closer to see the litany of scars and wounds on Evan’s body. The boy’s golden toned skin was covered, white slashes, small dark burns, and one long, puckered line that started in the middle of his ribcage, flowed down his side, and disappeared under his belt.
“No wonder he was so caught up on Vesper’s demon,” Corinth whispered. “It looks like he has one of his own.”
Vesper snapped his eyes to the girl. “Caught up?”
“He was very emotional when he heard you were going to be fed upon. As if any of us could have done anything about it,” she said, a sad smile gracing her features. “Odd, hearing him so young and yet seeing he has clearly had a lifetime of pain that should have aged him.” Her fingers twitched as if to touch Evan’s scars but she held herself back.
Vesper, shadows dancing in his eyes, suddenly turned back, growling lowly. “No!”
Devlan growled back, fingers pulling at Evan’s belt and unclasping it. “He’s burning—Physically hot to the touch, dragon boy. He needs air.”
“If you think for a second I’m falling for your bullshit—”
“Enough!” Gilda roared, glaring between the two of them. “I’m sick of this territorial, dominant male shit! The boy needs help. He was a damn sweet kid and will likely never speak to me again after meeting you dicks. Devlan was the one chosen to ease his suffering, so stop lusting over the kid, Vesper, and let him do it!”
Vesper inhaled a sharp breath, glaring at the dark look Devlan sent him in reply.
“If you wanted him, Malice, you should have just fucking taken him, consequences be damned,” Devlan muttered. “Corinth, get the kid’s boots.”
“Damn it,” Vesper uttered, another growl threatening to break free. He ran his fingers through his bright locks, watching as Evan’s motions began to weaken, the boy so overcome he was losing the function of his limbs. “Asher, tell me your spell doesn’t end in some form of paralysis. Tell me you weren’t planning on draining the boy.”
“It’s not his blood,” Asher repeated, sitting back on his heels. “I left no wound on him to suggest I planned to bleed him.”
“Stop,” Evan mumbled, weak hands clutching at Devlan’s as the boy went to unbutton his slacks. Only to gasp, the touch of skin contact to an incubus automatically sparking pleasure and lust. “Oh hell… damn you…”
“That he’s still resisting is quite valiant,” Asher observed, a grim smile twisting his features. “His willpower is amazing.”
Devlan carefully unwound Evan’s fingers from around his wrists, unzipping the boy’s fly. “Raise your hips, Reed.”
Fairly certain he was in some messed up dream to find Devlan showing concern in his strange yellow eyes, Evan arched his back when fingers brushed his stomach, his hips rising automatically. Devlan roughly pulled his pants down, Evan whimpering from the feel of cool air and even cooler stone touching his heated flesh as he was left in only boxerbriefs and his twisted shirt on the floor.
“Better?” Devlan asked, bending forward to hear Evan’s gasping, soft reply. “No, I promise I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured roughly. “I’m going to pull the heat from your skin. I’m going to touch you—”
Evan shook his head, his neck barely able to support the motion now as he whimpered in fear.
“I know it feels overwhelming. But wherever I touch, when I pull my hand away after that initial pulse, it’s going to feel cooler,” Devlan said as soothingly as he could, his eyes roaming slowly over the blond’s sweating, gasping form. “I’m going to pull the heat away and the spell will stop. Okay?” He asked, gaze again seeking out Evan’s dark, heavy lidded eyes.
“I don’t like… to be touched,” Evan whispered, his body feeling so weak, the fire having stolen all his strength from him. Blinking, he glanced to the side, his head sliding down on the floor, cheek resting on the cool tile. Gilda was there, Vesper hovering feet away. “He hurts me.”
Gilda reached her hand out, gently brushing her fingers to Evan’s. “I promise you, Evan, Devlan won’t harm you. He talks a lot of shit, but he doesn’t hurt. Not the way… Not the way you got your scars.” She bit her lip, pulling her fingers away but keeping them near in a show of support. “Just relax. Just relax and let him help you.”
Evan’s face twisted, hissing when Devlan touched lightly, the pleasure of the touch more pain than anything else.
Gilda turned to Vesper with an uncertain look. “Pull him. You have the strongest call. Take some of his fear away.”
Glancing carefully over his shoulder at his demon bodyguard still across the room, Vesper ducked his head to glare at the girl. “I don’t know if I can. Not safely.”
“Don’t give me that shit, Malice. Just do it,” Gilda snapped. “He’s suffering!”
“I…” Vesper let his eyes travel to where Evan was panting, hissing each time from Devlan’s light touch. “I’m not like the rest of you. I’ve bottled it up. Shut it down as much as possible. To intentionally use it now would be to tear down years of restraint. I… I don’t know if I could stop myself if I were to start.”
“Figure it the fuck out quick,” Devlan growled, fingertips touching the lightest he could possibly touch only to have Evan jerk away. “His brain is going to be effected by the heat if it’s not removed soon and I can’t remove it from him at this pace. Brain dead prey during orientation is not going to go down well for any of us with the higher ups.”
Wetting his lips, Vesper nodded sharply. “Clear a space. Devlan, if I come at you, you need to be prepared to flee without making contact with me. I would prefer only one victim today.” Everyone exchanging glances, Gilda, Corinth and Asher stood, stepping back so that they would not be in the way if Vesper lost control and decided to actually feed off of the whimpering boy. Devlan sat back, putting Evan between him and the pale Scion.
Vesper took a steading breath and then another, trying to let the anxiety clear out of his mind. Fear would only make him desperate, irrational. If he was going to do this, he needed to be calm and collected, determined with his goal and nothing more. Exhaling slowly, he focused on the boy burning like a white hot flame of lust in his mind and tentatively reached his magic out to him.
Vesper gasped at the first touch, the first deliberate magical touch he had made with another living being since he had been tattooed to his demon master. Breathing deep, he pulled, eyes burning blue flames of power.
Evan was lost in a desert. He was burning, his skin tight, the sweat covering his shaking form feeling like coarse salt as it dripped down his skin. Small vipers kept biting him, sinking fangs in that made his body jolt fearfully, more heat rising to each poisonous touch.
He became aware of a change, a breeze. He could smell snow and far away, thousands of miles on some lone mountain top, he could hear the echo of a great beast calling, mourning a sad, low cry. He was reminded of his mother and the music she wrote. She had not been one for singing, only the most powerful of enchanters with the most skilled of voices deemed worthy to raise her spells. As beautiful as the songs had sounded, they had wrought such terrible, horrible power. The dragon crying in the distance was very much the same. A voice of unimaginable beauty filled with deadly, barely restrained force.
Blinking through the sweat catching his heavy lashes, Evan sought out the source of the call, finding vaguely familiar, blazing otherworldly blue eyes glowing in the dimness around him. For a moment Evan could see the boy like he had experienced the world when trapped by Asher’s hand. Vesper was surrounded by a rainbow of light rising high to the ceiling and anticipation of movement to come was strong around him. But there were no blades in his hand this time, just need, so dark, so deep surely it would reach him and wash all this madness from his mind if the boy would only touch him.
Evan met Vesper’s pulling gaze, wishing he could speak or move, wanting to call the boy closer. Vesper must have sensed his unspoken demand because the pale boy took hesitant, halting steps to him. Evan breathed deep, the scent of snow filling his senses.
“Sing,” Evan croaked out, his throat full of sand, eyes raw and gritty. The vipers were back but their fangs were dulled, resting against his burning flesh instead of sinking in. Then he couldn’t feel them at all, the mournful cry he had heard so far away now in the room, echoing off the walls, rising waves of intense, demanding power that he could not turn away from. Vesper had the voice of the celestial; combined with his unnaturally pale skin and hair, he looked truly a dragon in that moment, shimmering scales, long, iridescent feathers cresting his head between his platinum locks. Vesper was the most majestic being he’d ever seen.
“A little longer, dragon boy,” Devlan muttered, eyes intent on his task as he pulled the passionate heat from Evan’s skin. The blond was beautiful even with his many scars. Now that he wasn’t struggling to be free, Devlan could not help but let his hands linger, moving in slow caresses, pulling soft, gasping moans from Evan’s parted lips. It was difficult to look anywhere but at the boy’s lovely mouth, his lips flushed red and plump with a natural pout that demanded to be kissed.
“Devlan, pay the fuck attention!” Gilda snarled from behind him, the noise startling him.
Scowling, Devlan turned his head her way but the girl wasn’t looking at him. Then he felt it, the sudden chill in the air as Vesper’s voice ceased its song. Devlan turned back to look ahead where the pale boy was standing, now a step in front of Evan’s feet instead of the twenty paces away he had started at.
“Don’t do it, Vesper,” Devlan warned, shivering when the boy turned his intense gaze to glare at him.
Devlan could never take Vesper in a fight, and not just because the boy had a demon. While some had magical abilities and others had bodies fortified with magic, Vesper had a combination of both that made him superior. Lust creatures usually only needed allure, physical strength hardly of use to drink down their prey. But allure was not limited to lust. There were deadly creatures like Asher that had allure to bring prey to their destruction. Then there were creatures like Vesper.
Vesper was meant to be looked at and obeyed. He radiated such powerful, natural allure that the only way for him to truly contain it would be to take control and demand everyone he ensnared to step away from him. If he so decided, he could have everyone on their knees, bowing low whenever he walked into a room. He could have been adored, loved, a leader of all. Vesper had instead chosen to suppress his abilities because of how they stole the will away from his prey. Even now, although Devlan felt no desire for the powerful boy with his loud allure, he did feel the compulsion to obey him.
In this moment, he could understand why no one was willing to free the Malice bloodline from their demonic curse. Surely it was celestial intervention to keep such supreme beings from overthrowing the order that existed.
“Give him to me,” Vesper demanded, his voice rich and powerful, commanding everyone in the room to heed. And Devlan, even as he knew to do so would sign Evan’s death at the hands of Vesper’s demon, could not stop himself from standing and pulling the slender blond up to his feet.
“You’re going to get the pretty thing killed,” Devlan gritted out, fighting the compulsion to push Evan towards Vesper’s glowing eyes. “You don’t want to do this.”
Vesper gave a soft sigh, gaze moving over Evan’s face and then down his nearly bare, toned form and long legs. “That is where you’re wrong. I very much want to do this.” He held his hand out, Devlan feeling the pull from that outreached limb even greater than from the boy’s words. “He’s mine. Now give him to me.”
Evan, his mind only slowly returning to him with Devlan’s hands stealing the terrible heat away, leaned back into the tall brunette’s form, eyelids heavy as he took in Vesper. He could feel the same power as before but it was so much stronger now, pulling at his body, trying to get him to step forward.
A dream. Evan had stumbled into this room to hear some boring speech and had fallen asleep. This strange, beautiful boy before him was trying to wake him up. Vesper’s hands would be strong, rough from training with the weapons that hung on his back. His lips would burn against his skin, hotter even than his eyes searing over him.
Again Evan could see the anticipation of action, Vesper ready to pull him close, wrap his arms around him, move his palms over him with forceful, heated movements. A kiss first, hard, crushing, those palms moving down, long fingers pushing between his cheeks and into his tightness, stretching him, tormenting him. And then, when he couldn’t bear anymore, Vesper would take him, fuck him, claim him as his and only his. It would be good… so very good… Evan wished his feet would move so he could take those few steps into Vesper’s waiting arms.
Instead there was a shadow, a sulphur spewing mountain stepping between him and the pale boy’s beautiful glowing eyes. Not even having a moment to comprehend what was happening, Evan was scooped up along with Devlan, both of them roughly walked over to the other side of the room by the glowering bodyguard. Evan fell to a heap, Devlan quickly rubbing his hands over the blond’s limbs to stop the smoking that had occurred when the hellspawn had touched his bare flesh and burned.
Vaguely Evan remembered Beverly’s words when she had dropped him off. In the first hour he had managed to find a room full of people far more terrifying than Stephan Grock.
“Reed? Come on, man, you okay?” Devlan asked, shaking him sharply when Evan made no reply.
“Stop—That hurts,” Evan muttered, swatting weakly at the boy’s hands.
Devlan just sighed, running fingers through his dark locks as he watched the hellspawn try to get Vesper into some sort of control. “Shit, that was close, kid. You might want to stay away from Vesper. Like, forever.”
Evan, gaze dazedly seeking out the pale boy, found Vesper, his blue eyes only starting to lose their glow once again. He wondered blearily if Vesper had done something to his head. Even here, well out of the reach of his allure and the pull no longer calling, Evan wanted desperately to go to the boy, crawl to him, touch him and be touched. His body felt like something had been torn away and would not be whole unless Vesper touched him. When those eyes fell on him, even with the glow now completely faded, Evan was sure Vesper felt it too, a look of such longing and despair etched on the pale boy’s features that could only be a mirror to his own.
“One of you, stop him!” Devlan shouted suddenly, pointing to the bodyguard rummaging through Evan’s clothes. Corinth and Gilda both raised spells at the same time, Evan’s clothing whisking into their hands as the material flew across the room. The hellspawn went to pursue but Vesper found his voice, barking orders at the overgrown man until he stopped. And then Vesper was gone, turning with a snap and straight back and quickly leaving after only the smallest of glances towards Evan before he escaped out into the light, his bodyguard on his heels.
“Why did he want my clothes?” Evan asked as Gilda and Corinth approached and handed the slightly sulfur smelling garments to him.
“Name badge,” Gilda explained, removing it from the outside of Evan’s cloak. “Here, keep it tucked away. You don’t want that freak telling its master the name of the boy Vesper was trying to pull. No good can come of it.”
Evan nodded dumbly, his mind still not fully processing anything of what had just happened. He got up unsteadily and stepped into his pants, pulling them up and zipping while trying to ignore the hiss behind him.
“Shit, Reed, your back is even worse than your front,” Devlan growled, his fingers brushing down the blond’s scarred back tenderly. Evan wrenched away as if slashed, scowling at the ground while struggling to get his shirt down. “I’m not going to hurt—”
“I don’t care. Don’t fucking touch me,” Evan snapped, jolting forward when those tingling fingers again pressed against his skin, this time his neck. He glared back at the taller boy, hoping to get his point across. But Devlan’s eyes were filled with something damn near close to pity and Evan couldn’t bear to see it. Even the asshole felt fucking sorry for him. “Stop looking at me like some goddamn broken baby bird, jackass. I can take care of myself.”
He couldn’t see Devlan’s expression, but when he was suddenly pulled backwards into the boy’s arms, he imagined he might have pissed him off. Except, although powerful and unwilling to let him go, Devlan’s hold was warm, comforting as the brunette wrapped his long leather clad arms around him and buried his face against Evan’s neck.
With a start, Evan realized he was being hugged.
Frowning stonily, he stared unseeing straight ahead and waited it out. Like he needed a hug? Like he wanted people seeing just how much Stephen Grock had tortured him over the years so that they’d feel sorry for him? This warmth, this combination of hard and softness pulling him close and holding him still, it was just a form of suffocation he wanted to be free of. He didn’t need it. Didn’t need fucking anything from anyone.
“Let me go,” Evan whispered, wishing his eyes weren’t so blurry.
“Shut up, kid,” Devlan said gruffly, only holding him tighter. “I’m a fucking incubus and you’re hot. So what if you just nearly got fucked up by Asher, braindead by an uncontrollable lust spell and set up to be eaten alive by one of the most dangerous fucking demons this world has ever seen? You’re hot and I want to hold you.”
Devlan was an asshole and Evan was pretty sure his best fucking friend from that moment on.
The incubus was shaking, clearly having comprehended the blond’s danger a lot better than Evan could fathom at the moment. Gilda was suddenly there, wrapping her arms around the two of them, a mixture of lavender and sweat as she buried her face against the other side of Evan’s neck. “Shit, I thought you were dead. The both of you. If Vesper had touched you…”
Evan shuddered, unable to stop the noise he made from the thought of Vesper touching him. Both Devlan and Gilda immediately reared back, their expressions a mixture of lust and concern.
“Don’t fall for him, Ev. He’s cursed. He’s the walking dead.” Gilda looked him hard in the eye, her violet gaze full of warning. “You think anyone will stop that demon from killing you? You think there’s anyone on this goddamn planet that can stop it? The Malice bloodline is one of the strongest out there and they’re nothing more than prey to that monster. If you have any sensible brain cell left after what happened today, you’ll never think of Vesper Draconis Malice again.”
Evan swallowed hard, fighting with something inside of him he couldn’t fully comprehend. “It’s just allure,” he finally whispered, his voice too hoarse, mind too numb. He didn’t even know Vesper. He was just really beautiful and had amazing glowing eyes and stood tall even while being groomed for a slow, humiliating death. Evan would have to be some sort of idiot to get caught up in a situation like that.
“He’s not a vampire, kid. He doesn’t enthrall you after he’s gone,” Devlan said bluntly. “You’re reacting to his name like you’re… Crap. Maybe you are. No one knows who sired you. Maybe you’re mate material for a fae. But you better shut it down now,” he added with a scowl. “He’ll only get you killed. And his demon won’t wait around to do it. That beast will suck you dry and clean out your bones and there’s no one alive that can stop him.”
Evan threw his suit jacket on, thought better of it and then tore it off, leaving his robe and jacket over his arm, dress shirt half opened from missing buttons, tie left on the floor. He had no interest in impressing anyone anymore. Fuck them all.
“I get it already. Death. Destruction. I can’t even prevent the short guy from grabbing my arm and asphyxiating me—I didn’t even want to come to this fucking school!” He snarled suddenly, whirling on the silent Devlan.
“I wanted to be a scientist.” Evan’s dark eyes flashed gold as he stepped towards the brunette. “I fucking hate magic and I hate what terrible people do with magic. Because, fuck, so far everyone that I’ve seen with power is just one link lower on the food chain to someone or something else feeding off of him. So really, who’s it going to be for me, Devlan? The little shit covered in blood that only had to touch my fucking hand to kill me? Some dusty old academic that wants me to be his fucking slave apprentice until I’m burnt out and have no will left of my own? The fucker that beats me because even though I have never shown an ounce of potential he still knows I’m more powerful than he’ll ever hope to be? Am I really supposed to care if it’s a fucking demon instead of the warlock at home! I got the fucking letter and now I’m stuck in this shit school with these shit monsters that are all trying to figure out how to exploit me or destroy me. You want to warn me? You just want to feed off of me too!”
“Damn it, Devlan,” Gilda sighed lowly, the incubus growling as he pushed Evan back, slamming the scowling blond up against a pillar.
Evan had a frozen instant to realize just what the idiot wanted before lips descended to his, rough and consuming as he was kissed back against the marble. Growling, he tried to push Devlan away but his limbs still felt too weak and full of heat. The incubus easily grabbed his wrists, pinning Evan’s arms to the side and grinding his hips forward.
“Fuck,” Evan gasped, turning his head and panting as Devlan rocked his erection against his hip.
Lips pressing to the blond’s jaw, Devlan didn’t let up, his voice dark and full of want as he held Evan down. “I can fuck you, Reed. Damn sure you could use a good, hard fuck.”
“Shut up,” Evan snapped, trying to pull his arms free and groaning when it only managed to push his chest against the taller brunette’s. He had said too much, had given away way too much of himself than he had ever intended to tell anyone. And it had felt fucking good. He had never felt so alive before, finally able to scream out his anger over his fucked up life.
Glaring at Devlan, Evan stopped trying to escape. He surged forward, sealing their lips together, gasping when he was pinned back and the incubus’s hands began to tear at the shirt he had only just gotten back on.
Devlan tasted like coffee and sex, his tongue driving into Evan’s mouth, large hand cupping the boy’s face to keep him still as he nipped his lower lip and drew gasp after gasp from the blond. His other hand tore up Evan’s t-shirt, fingers digging into his scarred flesh as he ground their hips together with desperate, agonizing thrusts. The leather felt both soft and rough against Evan’s skin at once, cold metal clasps and chains shocking each time they brushed his hot flesh. The material was perfect to grab onto, letting Evan pull the brunette harder against his body, the boy groaning into his mouth.
“Fuck, Reed, you are one sexy… angry… hottie.”
“Seriously, shut up,” Evan muttered breathlessly, pushing at Devlan’s coat until the boy relented and shrugged out of it, the leather and chains falling to the floor in a heap. Beneath he wore a thin, semi-transparent black shirt that clung to his long torso, revealing every inch of strong, toned muscle above black leather pants.
Devlan immediately pulled Evan back to him, mouth moving a hot trail down the blond’s neck while he squeezed his ass hard with both hands. Evan gaped from the sensation, Devlan using it as an excuse to kiss the boy again, sucking on his tongue while saliva trailed from the corner of the blond’s mouth.
“Oh fuck,” Evan groaned, feeling every hot, hard inch of Devlan’s dick against his hip with each rock of their bodies. He had to be losing his mind; Devlan’s touch was like fire but not the type about to kill him like Asher’s had been. No, it was damn perfect, stealing his fear, his thoughts, his awareness of anything but the other boy’s hard body and wet mouth. He wrapped his arm tighter around the incubus’s neck and in understanding, Devlan lifted him, bracing him on the pillar while Evan hooked his legs around the boy’s leather clad hips.
“That’s it,” Devlan breathed out shakily, Evan rolling his hips while wrapping his fingers into the brunette’s thick hair and pulling him in for a forceful kiss. “I got what you need, baby. Gonna make it… so fucking good.” He rubbed his palms roughly over Evan’s ass and the bottom of his thighs, his erection now perfectly lined with the blond’s.
Ignoring the idiot’s words, Evan kissed down his chin, tongue lapping out over Devlan’s bristled jaw, swollen lips red and wet tingling against the prickling stubble. He wrenched the boy’s head back, his teeth following. Devlan grunted when Evan latched onto his jaw, the blond’s lips slipping on the wet flesh as he bit down and held.
“Fuck… Fuck,” Devlan whispered, his eyes widening in surprise as he turned and braced himself on the pillar to keep from falling. “How are you…?”
The incubus really talked too much. Tightening his legs and shifting in Devlan’s hold, Evan threaded fingers through the boy’s thick hair and kissed him deeply, tugging the incubus’s head back and swallowing down his gasps. Devlan couldn’t seem to do more than hold onto Evan’s waist, the brunette whimpering and sinking back against the pillar while plundered by the angry blond.
The world tilted, Evan cracking his eyes open to find Devlan sliding down the wall. They landed on the floor heavily, Evan grabbing the boy’s broad shoulders to keep from titling sideways. The incubus’s eyes were closed, his breathing strained, lips parted and swollen. For a frozen moment, Evan wondered if the boy had fallen unconscious. He didn’t kiss that bad, did he?
“Devlan?”
Lashes fluttering open to reveal glowing amber eyes, Devlan didn’t answer, his expression oddly dazed. There was a flush to his pale cheeks that hadn’t been there before, possibly a side effect from feeding. Evan bit his lip, his mind pausing on the realization that sex for Devlan might not actually be sex but some sort of meal. He had no idea what the hell an incubus actually was besides some guy that was supposed to fuck up your dreams.
“Are you okay?” He tried again when Devlan continued to blink at him slowly. Evan leaned forward, pressing lips to the brunette’s. Devlan gave a soft moan, his tongue sliding out and teasing against his. Well, not dying anyways, but maybe really full. Evan sighed, trying to fight down the fire in his body. Of course. He finally gave in to the fucking guy and Devlan just couldn’t keep up. What a fucking terrible joke the entire day was turning out to be.
Sitting back, Evan looked around the room, wondering if Gilda had hung around so he could ask her just what was wrong with the incubus. He stilled when he caught sight of the two sirens, Asher smiling at him in such an intimidating way he didn’t notice immediately that the three of them had been caught. Thorned vines—thick, black and deadly—were wrapped around each lust creature. Gilda was bleeding, her arms bound tight and now stuck in the position of her reaching for her blade.
“Evanel Reed?”
Standing slowly, Evan put himself between Devlan and the voice behind him. He didn’t know what the hell was going on but if Gilda was trapped, it wasn’t good.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Evan said, taking in the new boy warily. Elf. A real elf. Apparently they did grow taller than five feet. Nothing else had long pointed ears tipped in black, and Evan held himself very still. Even though the new boy looked unassuming at 5′ 5,” dressed plainly in sorcerer robes with shinning auburn hair that reached to his shoulders and wide, warm brown eyes that shone from his glowing golden skin, Evan had been told enough about elves from Beverly to know the boy could probably kill him in a second flat if he so chose. Given his expression as he glared down behind Evan’s knees to where Devlan was slumped, he was definitely considering murdering someone.
“I’m Nicholas Taxus,” the elf finally spoke, his lush lips twisted in a tight frown. “I’ve been asked to retrieve you. I did not expect I would need to be rescuing you from a pack of lust creatures.” His voice was pure venom and Evan found himself standing taller to block Devlan as much as possible.
“I didn’t need rescuing,” Evan said, his eyes straying to Gilda. She looked pissed, yes, but not afraid like she had when Asher had grabbed him. “I don’t know why you’re holding them, but they’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Really?” Nicholas turned his glare to Evan, taking in the boy’s disheveled clothes, swollen lips and mussed hair. “Sorry, but you really don’t seem to be in a state to be able to see anything clearly. Come with me. Master Wilde is waiting.”
Evan had no idea who Master Wilde was and had little interest in this boy who had knocked Devlan out and confined the others. “I don’t give a fuck what you want. I’m not going anywhere until you release them. They’ve done nothing wrong.”
Huffing, the boy stood taller and looked haughtily towards the lust creatures. “They know what rules they’ve broken, feeding outside of the designated areas. This one,” he nodded towards Devlan, “Is so out of control he couldn’t even wait until orientation was through. They all should have been prepared and have fed accordingly before even arriving.”
Evan was pretty damn sure that all the kids had been in control before Asher had started his stupid spell. That the small boy was covered in blood probably meant that he had fed recently as well. “Seriously, I don’t know what your problem is, but they haven’t done anything wrong,” Evan snapped, crouching back down to check on Devlan. He had no interest in getting some self-righteous nosy-body involved. Yeah, he was still fucking pissed off at Asher for being a psycho freak, but Gilda and Corinth had been nice enough and although Devlan was still an ass, he had saved his life and kissed well enough to forgive the other shit that came out of the incubus’s mouth.
Devlan still looked dazed, although now he had fixed his gaze to the elf glaring at him. “Tree-hugging royal,” Devlan taunted, his voice full of sleep and less caustic than intended.
Flushing red, Nicholas growled angrily. “I wouldn’t expect manners from one of your kind. Hunting in the dark and stalking beds is hardly the activities of a civilized people. You couldn’t even control yourself your first hour here.” He waved his arm, the vines falling and dispersing from the others. “Go. The tour is waiting for the rest of you. Maybe you’ll pick up on some of those rules you’ve happily ignored.”
Gilda, blood dripping down her arms, immediately stepped away from Asher now that she was free, the boy’s green eyes staring too intently at the crimson trail. “You could have just said something,” she muttered, “Instead of coming in and just spelling us.”
“You shouldn’t have been here in the first place. I could only assume the worst.”
“There’s nothing wrong with feeding off desire,” she shot back. “Elves may not indulge but it’s hardly life or death.”
Glaring at Asher, Nicholas didn’t reply. “Evanel, I have been tasked with collecting you. I have other things I would prefer to be doing right now. Please collect your things and we’ll go.”
“And why should I listen to you?” Evan asked, his annoyance only growing to hear his full name used again.
“Because I’m an Elite and I’m apprenticing with Master Wilde, one of the most esteemed teachers here.” At Evan’s unimpressed look, he added tightly, “And your uncle has requested it.”
Stilling, Evan exhaled slowly. “Sebastian is here?”
“Yes. Apparently to speak with you.” Nicholas turned again to where Gilda was standing stubbornly, Corinth and Asher intently listening. “Well? Why are you still here?”
“Evan?” Gilda called, her expression full of suspicion for the strange turn of events.
Straightening, Evan gave a small shrug. He hadn’t seen his uncle in ages. The man wrote sometimes but his military work kept him secretive and usually unreachable. “Devlan, are you going to be okay?” He asked, sighing down at the boy who looked about ready to fall asleep. Maybe it was a sleep spell?
“I’m fine… Try not to be bored to suicide by the egotistical windbag,” Devlan mumbled while glaring ineffectively at the elf.
Evan followed his gaze to Nicholas but the boy was already stomping away. “Gilda, can you just…?” He pointed to Devlan, then scooped up the rest of his clothes and quickly stumbled forward to catch up. He glanced over his shoulder, nearly tripping when he caught Asher’s chilling smile.
Pet him… What exactly had the boy meant by that?
A section to comment on the Awakening series. You may find polls here, secrets answered, character bios–I’m not sure exactly yet. Please, if you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them!
ENJOY! <3
THE PARANORMAL ACADEMY FOR TROUBLED BOYS #1 (ORIGINAL VERSION)
Just dodging jail, dragon shifter Wylie ends up in the Academy, an institution for out of control paranormals. He falls for a sexy, troubled sorcerer whose magical infliction makes him too deadly to touch. Convincing Dorian to be his might just get them all killed.
X 101,000+ wrds, paranormal, dragon shifter, sorcery, first time, NA. Published: April 1, 2016
A BLACKMAILING STEPBROTHER ROMANCE
PC Version ♥♥♥ Mobile Version ♥♥♥ Audio Version
Jayce has been doing everything to get his now official younger brother settled in to his new home, all while fighting some very unbrotherly feelings for the angry, isolated brat. After things get weird, Declan decides to turn the tables, blackmailing his older brother into greater heights of depravity. Can Jayce keep from getting sucked into Declan’s twisted games?
XX56,000+ wrds, contemporary, stepbrother psi, new adult, blackmail. Published: January 23, 2016
AN INTENSE PARANORMAL SHORT FICTION
A sexy thank you for joining the Newsletter. <3
This is a rather intense, dripping wet, XX–XXX rated MM fic featuring a naïve main character, his manipulative best friend, a very sexually aggressive incubus that finds his victims through the Internet, and his big monster cock covered in ridges. Like many of my erotic stories, it features dubcon and is intended for 18+ readers.
NEW ADULT PARANORMAL MM ACTION ADVENTURE ROMANCE WITH SHIFTERS, SORCERERS, WEREWOLVES, DEMONS AND GANGSTERSWylie's bio & reference last updated 1/27/20A section in progress where you can find character bios, fun facts, reference for magic, tech, and lore of the PATB world, quizzes and Q&As. Will be added to as the series is written.
NEW ADULT PARANORMAL MM EPIC FANTASY ROMANCE WITH FAE, GODS, AND ANGSTScene #25 last updated 2/16/19
Everything found here will have been funded by supporters on Patreon. This includes the Demon Bonded serial where you can get updates before it publishes.
Demon Bonded: Coven Saga ep 12: Scene 2 last updated 8/10/20
This is an experiment with Patreon to find a way around the rabid censorship and discrimination of certain erotic subject matter. I’ve had books banned without explanation or direct proof of Content Guidelines being broken while straight books with the same ‘taboo’ content is allowed to sell on Amazon and other platforms. This shame based censorship not only tries to suppress the creation of certain books, but also punishes authors, and sometimes readers who seek to read these subjects. I’m calling bullshit on these discriminatory practices, and I’m looking to find a way to fund taboo reads outside of mainstream platforms.
If you’re interested in supporting me and the Demon Bonded serial, please donated to my Patreon. Thank you!
REMOVED BECAUSE JK ROWLING IS A HATEFUL TRANSPHOBE
So… I thought I could compromise with these Harry Potter fanfics. They were supposed to be fun, but they can’t be anymore. They can’t be anything more but a show of support of hate.
I think I was naive when it started, hopeful it was another out of touch celebrity who was bumbling through a complex topic. You know how those billionaires get, just saying things without research, thinking they must be right because their echo chamber insists they’re right. Don’t we all just hate to point out to the powerful how they’re abusing their power — surely it’s a mistake, surely they don’t mean it that way? Surely conflict avoidance is the answer, and the monster they have become will go away if we don’t acknowledge it? Just hide under the covers and Voldemort will go away.
JK Rowling has created an army of transphobes. She is the leader of a hate movement. She is emboldened as companies continue to profit off of her intellectual property and enrich her. She is not going away.
I first truly realized this shopping around the holiday season after I was starting to feel better, only to stop in front of a display with Potter merch and feel the sickening twist in my stomach as I watched people browse the contents. Were they fans before JK Rowling went full out TERF? Or were they “new” fans, people who bought the merch because they wanted an easily recognized symbol of hate to display but they could play dumb if anyone called them out on it? Was the store itself even safe when everyone knew JK Rowling was spreading misinformation and lies that were leading to violence against transgendered people? Did it matter anymore when anything connected to JK Rowling was a symbol of hate?
I can’t claim this is the first time I had to let go of an author, but it was never to this extreme. I didn’t really get into Orson Scott Card until right before he revealed his bigotry against LGBTQs. I never wrote fanfiction for his characters. Instead, as an adult, I was able to look at his work and see his struggle, see in his books how he was losing to the twisted memes his religious community instilled in him until he couldn’t see beyond it. But I also acknowledged that he was an adult making choices, choices that were spreading hate and bigotry against a marginalized community, and I, as an adult, had to make a choice in response.
It was a learning experience for me. I didn’t want to learn from what was happening to JK Rowling, which is why I fought it as long as I could. I wanted to stay a child and play make-believe.
It doesn’t matter what I want it to be; JK Rowling is a celebrated transphobe in 2023. She is making money off her intellectual properties to fund the hateful bigotry she puts out into the world. And her transphobic followers use her work to fund her hate, and they use her work to terrorize transgender people. It doesn’t matter the intentions of when those books were first written. It doesn’t matter the intentions of the fans who are not transphobes, who just want to be entertained by a story of an orphan boy who discovered he was “special”, deserving. Harry Potter and all other works created by JK Rowling and her other pen names fund hate.
The nazi symbol once represented peace until Hitler got a hold of it. It doesn’t mean it’s no longer only the nazi symbol of hate today. Things change, and I’m not so stuck in my ways that I’m going to pretend that it doesn’t demand I change as well.
There are better stories out there. There are far better writers out there. And the ultimate majority don’t have their works symbolize hate. I’m letting go of Harry Potter because I don’t support hate, and there is no compromising with a transphobe. JK Rowling is an adult making adult choices. Choices to say and do things things that exclude and outright harm transgendered people. She is not intellectually impaired. The color of her skin, perceived sex, and the gender she identifies with does not provide a justification for what she’s doing. She is not a victim, but a protected harasser who self justifies by hiding behind a story of victimhood to prevent facing the repercussions of her actions. Her class — her billionaire status — does not mean she is magically smarter and more correct than anyone else. She is capable enough to write a story, one that understands what is good and what was bad. She is not ignorant to these things. She is making a choice to target, harass, and create an atmosphere of violence against one of the most marginalized, at risk communities in the history of humanity. And she does it while claiming she cares about women, just so long as woman is defined by her limited, bigoted viewpoint.
JK Rowling doesn’t care about women. She doesn’t even know what a woman is.
For those who looked to Harry Potter as a hero, as someone you wanted to be when you grew up, to be such a hero you need to fight against the evil JK Rowling is spreading in the world. The hardest thing children must do when they grow is to become individuals separate from their parents’ and society’s antiquated and biased views, but it is the only way to bring needed change in a broken world.
JK Rowling doesn’t know what it’s like to be an orphan, to be an outsider to the accepted class — that’s the irony I have always felt when I see so many of these 2 dimensional stories of child abandonment when I grew up in foster care and was later adopted. It’s a trope; few writers understand how complex abandonment is. How complex and devastating growing up on the outside of society is, having to negotiate with a world that will never fully see you as belonging just because you don’t have parents.
And if you think that sort of discrimination doesn’t exist, you have never lived it. Humanity doesn’t need a good reason to trigger their xenophobia; just like some see a spot on an apple and assume it’s bad, some see a child without parents and assume the same. Some see a presentation of a gender role that doesn’t match their expectation and are triggered. A tic of a hand or a stutter and some people are triggered. Some see tattoos or a style of clothing and are triggered because they don’t feel surrounded by the familiar, and therefore justify lashing out. Humanity is innately broken, and it is up to us to fight the rationalization of xenophobia if we ever want a better world.
And beware those who are already safe, are already protected by the world we are in, because as much as they might say they want “better”, human nature promises they will fight equality if it feels like they lose their privilege. We are flawed, a mashup of what evolution spat out of a species that conquered a globe and claimed ownership while causing mass extinction. Within us is understanding, but not without these deeply rooted instincts to hoard, to control and kill what we can’t control. And we’ll say it’s to be safe, to be organized and to have things make sense. But it’s because we are cowards who don’t want to be uncomfortable in an uncertain world.
When JK Rowling wrote a book about fighting against a system of injustice, she wrote a single villain and his henchpeople to defeat, instead of demanding change of an unequal system, because she has never lived being in a marginalized community. Instead she writes what she knows, protected, superior in her community, with special powers to control and harm others, in a secret world in the shadows where normal humans will never hold these special people accountable, only ever be victims. She doesn’t have the experience — the basic human empathy — to write a true hero of the people, never mind to be one, because she is too insulated by her class. She can’t even see the darkness in her own cowardly self.
And those who support her hate — for the fame, for the memes, because they like to hate and to feel sheltered by a righteous fandom that will protect them from the repercussions — they are very content to never grow as well. A society perpetuating the weakest of human character, insulating from change, attacking anyone who would demand they grow up and be better. That’s what the Harry Potter fandom has become. Pretending otherwise is just a fantasy. All you have to do is go online and see how this fandom harasses and attacks anyone who stands up against their bigotry.
This is who they are now. This is who JK Rowling is, and this is her fandom, comprised of tranphobes and bullies.
Yeah, it’s a shitty feeling being asked to grow up, to be a better version of yourself. Especially when most of the Harry Potter fans are of an older generation who is so certain they are grown. A generation catered to with all the toys, nostalgia, and petty, pretty little things consumerism can spoil them with. I’m of a generation so defined by marketing that we can’t even get a new movie out that isn’t full of some 40 something’s childhood fantasy to be a superhero.
Do you even understand how infantalizing that is? How pathetic that we are stuck playing childhood games pretending we have no power because these companies control us best this way? The world doesn’t ask us to be better because there are entire economies thriving on keeping us childlike and docile. So when a villain shows up — when someone in the real world is causing real, actual harm — it becomes about how to keep having the toys and childhood fantasies we love instead of telling that person to fuck off and stop causing harm. It becomes a negotiation of how to compromise with violence and bigotry, and I’m done playing this sick game.
Fuck off, JK Rowling. You don’t understand the bullshit you’re claiming to be science because you’re not a scientist. You aren’t qualified to talk on the human experiences you talk about because you have not experienced them. You don’t have the life experience to know anything about complex social situations because you never face the consequences of complex social situation, but instead fuck off to whatever castle you’re living in at the moment and have brunch with leaders of hate groups while you let your fans bully and harass anyone who calls you out. Your input is not wanted in regards to transgenderism. You are an outsider here, thinking you’re an insider because that’s the privilege you have lived your entire life with as a wealthy, white, cis AFAB, and no, that will never change. You don’t get to be the center of this conversation, no matter how much you think you should because “special”. The transgender community is not here to coddle you the way everyone else does. We don’t negotiate with terrorists, not even the ones holding our childhoods’ hostage. Fuck off; humanity has some growing to do.
CHECK OUT OLD AND NEW COVERS BY SADIE, COMMISSION WORK, AND SNAG MOBILE AND PC WALLPAPERS
READ THE FIRST SCENES FREE!
A BLOG OF PROBLEMS BEING SOLVED AS I STARTED WRITING EROTICA
JUST A LITTLE HELLO <3
IF YOU FEEL LIKE CONTRIBUTING TO MY PATREON TIP JAR, HERE’S THE LINK