Sliding his tongue over his lower lip, Kalylle nodded. “Okay.” He lifted his hand to his forehead, feeling around where his wound used to be. “What happened?”
Philippe realized there were so many layers to that question. After drying his lover’s skin, he rubbed at the wet spot the wizard had created on the blanket. He used the time to formulate an answer. After tossing the soiled hand towel on the floor near his leggings, he urged Kalylle back onto the bed, then wrapped his arms around him and held him close.
Soaking in the warmth of his lover’s skin, Philippe sighed. He lipped several kisses up Kalylle’s neck, enjoying the way the wizard tilted his head and hummed appreciatively. Realizing he could put off the explanation no longer, he reclined on the pillow and met the other man’s relaxed if somewhat confused expression.
“I’m sorry,” Philippe began. “For what happened in the dining room. I—” He paused, grimacing.
“You don’t need to apologize to me,” Kalylle told him. Rubbing his hand over Philippe’s chest soothingly, he reminded, “You warned me. I already knew how on edge you were. I should have been more careful. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”
Growling softly, Philippe shook his head. “That’s ridiculous,” he countered. Irritation filled him that Kalylle was attempting to take the blame for his own short-comings. Philippe didn’t want to argue with his lover, so he pecked a kiss to his wizard’s lips instead. “Stop, Kalylle. Please.”
Kalylle’s pinched his lips together, looking displeased, but he did as requested.
Philippe smiled, oddly gratified. “I gave you what’s called an Angel’s Kiss. I usually ask permission, but with you—” He paused and shrugged. “I knew you wouldn’t say no.”
“An Angel’s Kiss?” Kalylle repeated slowly. “What exactly does it do other than heighten pleasure?”
“It heals,” Philippe revealed. “And, yes, it heightens pleasure to hide the pain that sometimes comes with healing.” Realizing he had to tell his lover everything, he added, “An Angel’s Kiss is a very intimate thing, because it stimulates both the giver and the receiver. But since meeting you, I had to think up a way around the sexual aspect of it. At least on my end, because I, well—” He frowned as he worked through what he needed to say, then blurted out, “I gave Deantmore a Kiss to heal all the damage I did to the elf, but I didn’t think you’d like it if we fucked, so I resisted that end of it, ignoring it while he got himself off. It left me damned turned on and frustrated and angry, and I needed relief, and I knew if I came to you, you’d let me mount you, but I didn’t just want it to be about that, so I healed you, too, and now I don’t know if you’re going to be upset, because…of everything.”
Running out of steam and realizing he sounded like a damn idiot—gods, when was the last time I rambled—Philippe snapped his mouth shut and waited.
* * * *
“That’s amazing,” Kalylle whispered, deciding to focus on the healing aspect first. He had no desire to snarl in rage upon hearing that his lover had given Deantmore pleasure. He needed a moment to wrap his mind around that. Instead, he mused, “I can see why Canto finds you so interesting.”
When Philippe scowled at him, Kalylle scoffed. “Canto made a comment to me about how he finds you so interesting because of your uniqueness. He said your abilities are like no other darkling he’s ever run across.” Furrowing his brows, he muttered, “I suppose he knows about your Angel’s Kiss ability from experience?”
“Uh, yeah,” Philippe muttered. “I, uh, did a number on him when we first met.”
“So the only time you use the ability is when you lose control and injure someone?”
Philippe shrugged. “Sort of. Sometimes, not even then. Depends on the situation. Normally after I heal, I have a damn tough time controlling my daemonic urge to cause harm. It’s dangerous for those I’ve just healed,” he explained. Then his brows furrowed. He swept his gaze over Kalylle’s face as if searching for something. “Except with you. After I healed you...” He lifted a hand and ran his fingertips over Kalylle’s hairline where he knew his injury had been. “I didn’t feel that. I don’t understand it.”
Kalylle didn’t either, and he certainly wasn’t going to allow himself to speculate on what it meant. Instead, he murmured, “I’m grateful.” Closing the distance between their faces, he pressed a kiss to Philippe’s lower lip. He lapped at it gently, urging his darkling lover to open. When he did, Kalylle dipped his tongue inside his mouth, enjoying the man’s heady taste.
Just as Philippe tilted his head and lifted his hand to Kalylle’s head, urging him to deepen the kiss, a knock sounded at the door. Lifting his head, breaking the kiss, Kalylle grimaced. Philippe, on the other hand, glared toward the offending noise.
“Who is it?” Kalylle called, easing away from his lover.
“T’ Pan,” the elf called. “Supper will be ready shortly.” After a heartbeat, T’ Pan asked, “Philippe is not in his room. Is he with you?”
Kalylle focused on Philippe, lifting a brow in silent question.
Philippe shrugged. “Deantmore knows we’re lovers. It’s up to you.”
“Ta Kale does, too,” Kalylle told him softly. Lifting his voice, he called, “Yes. We’ll be out shortly.”
Kalylle didn’t hear a response.
Philippe massaged the tendons of Kalylle’s neck, getting his attention. “He moved on,” the darkling murmured. He glanced down at his discarded leggings. “I need new clothes. I’d planned to pick up something here. Do you have any money?” he asked, sliding from the bed. His lips curved into a wry smile as he continued, “I’m good for it. I promise.”
Nodding, Kalylle followed him from the bed and returned to his saddlebags. He found his money pouch and held it out to his lover. Seeing Philippe wore just the leggings and held the once again corked small flask of oil, he felt his cheeks heat as they traded items.
“Thank you.” Cupping Kalylle’s jaw, Philippe pecked a kiss on his lips. “For everything.” Releasing him just as quickly, he told him, “I’ll be back shortly.”
Kalylle nodded, then watched Philippe step backward and disappear. After tucking the oil into his saddlebags and pulling on his clothes and robes, he headed out of his chambers. He retraced his earlier steps and made his way to the dining room where he found T’ Pan and Ta Kale.
“Welcome back,” Ta Kale greeted. Her focus paused on his forehead, but she didn’t say anything about his missing wound. Instead, she pointed at her broken chair. “You and your friends are hard on my house. The chair, please?”
Nodding, remembering his offer to fix the chair Philippe had broken, Kalylle crossed to the ruined piece of furniture. It took him only a moment to mend the chair, and to prove its soundness, he pulled it up to the table and sat in it. Once there, he dragged the pitcher of water and a mug toward himself and poured himself a drink.
Ta Kale sat at the head of the table and thanked T’ Pan when he served them. The silent elf nodded. “I’m afraid you’ve a large problem in front of you,” she said without preamble.
Kalylle paused with his spoon full of stew halfway to his lips. The wizard didn’t like the sound of that. “Is there no way to track a crictor?” he asked before slipping the spoon between his lips. The thick broth tasted of herbs and seasoning, perfectly flavoring the venison, potatoes, and carrots.
The black seer shook her head, smiling. Her tone remained pleasant, as though they discussed nothing more important than the weather. “No. That’s simple. Once in the same land, the parts of Philippe’s souls will call to each other. He’ll be able to head straight to it. The problem lies in entering the Mists. There are a limited number of ways for humans and elves to cross over.”
Kalylle waited for her to continue as she took a bite of stew. To his surprise, he found the woman tried his considerable patience.
Finally, Ta Kale explained, “There are rumors of rifts, or breaches, in the thin veil that separates Fidelia from the daemon realm. That’s how
daemons escape and breed, giving us those like your friend Philippe.” She stared into her bowl, using the edge of her spoon to cut a piece of potato. Returning her focus to Kalylle, she told him, “The problem is there’s no way to tell where a breach is until you stumble through it. There are also stories of doorways that wizards of old created.”
Kalylle straightened, having never heard that. Ludicrous! The wizards monitor the activities of daemon entities very carefully, making certain their contact with the world of Fidelia is limited. Why would they create doors into their world?
Before he could voice his thoughts, Ta Kale held up a hand, stalling his outburst. “But if those stories hold any truth, the knowledge of accessing the doorways has been long lost with their creators. Our best bet would be in the stories that some magical creatures can cross worlds at will, moving from our world into the daemon world and back again.”
Kalylle stared at the seer for a long moment, trying to decide if she was serious. When she didn’t continue, he realized that Ta Kale believed what she said. “There are few creatures that are supposed to have that ability,” the wizard began slowly, breaking a piece of bread as he thought about what she’d said. “None of it has been proven,” he pointed out.
Ta Kale simply stared at him.
After another bite of food, Kalylle mused, “A phoenix is said to have that ability, but their fiery feathers burn those who try to handle them. Dragons, which have been driven to near extinction and now live only in the highest reaches of the Dantier Mountains, are also supposed to be able to do that. But these days they’re quick to eat anyone who encroaches on their territory.” He paused again. “Which were you thinking of trying to use?”
“Neither,” she said, clearly amused. “I believe the black pegasus is our best chance.”
“Black pegasus?” The wizard couldn’t hide the incredulity in his voice. When she nodded, he frowned, racking his brain. Finally, it hit him. “Are you talking about a cross between a pegasus and a nightmare?”
The seer nodded calmly. “We can ride them.”
“She means to go with us, Kalylle.”
Kalylle quickly turned his head, spotting his lover standing where the hallway met the dining room. He couldn’t help the way his eyes widened upon seeing the man. He now wore black leather leggings and a black, form-fitting tunic that appeared to be of silk. His boots were also black, as was the cloak on his shoulders. What surprised Kalylle most was the brace of knives and the sword he wore on his waist.
Philippe’s smile appeared smug as he crossed to Kalylle. He reached down and, with two fingers, urged his mouth shut. “You know I like my blades, Kalylle,” he murmured, winking.
Realizing he stared, Kalylle cleared his throat. “Right. Sorry. Been a while since I’ve seen you wear any so openly. You always keep it on the saddle.”
“That’s because I feared I’d use it on someone I shouldn’t,” Philippe admitted, easing into the seat next to him. “Now, I’m feeling better…more certain.” He fixed his gaze on Kalylle. “With you.”
Then Philippe leaned close, cupped Kalylle’s nape, and pulled him close. Right there in front of Ta Kale and T’ Pan, he settled his lips over Kalylle’s. Philippe slipped his tongue between his lips, capturing him in a slow, thorough kiss, all the while keeping his eyes open and holding Kalylle’s gaze.
“Also,” Philippe continued softly once he’d broken the kiss. “We now know better than to have your rune stones out of your hands, so if I do something stupid, you can stun my ass.”
Scoffing, Kalylle nodded. While he didn’t want to stun his lover, he understood that Philippe was conceding that they both needed to be more careful. “Of course.”
T’ Pan placed a bowl of stew in front of Philippe, and they separated. Kalylle watched as the darkling picked up the spoon, then focused on the seer. “You’re not coming,” he stated bluntly before taking a bit of stew.
Ta Kale’s blue eyes turned cool. “How do you expect to enter the Mists without me?”
“I can travel to the Mists,” Philippe claimed.
Ta Kale scoffed. “You don’t travel between worlds, darkling. Even a full daemon or angel cannot do that except by chance.” She tipped her head haughtily as she claimed, “You can only reach the gateway. A place where those skilled enough can access many worlds.”
“How do you know this?” Philippe asked, unsuccessfully hiding his interest.
Her blue-eyed gaze rested on Philippe for so long that Kalylle thought she wouldn’t answer. Finally, she shrugged. “As a seer, I must know many things to properly interpret my visions. I learned of this place decades ago while doing research.”
“Very well then,” Kalylle murmured slowly, still trying to piece together everything they needed to do. A glance at Philippe told him the albino didn’t like having the woman along, but he didn’t yet have a work-around. “You said we need to find a black pegasus. Where are we going to look for one?”
“The Baltienstein Mountains,” she stated softly.
“Those are covered in over a dozen feet of snow even in the summer,” Kalylle reminded.
Running a hand through his white hair, Philippe chuckled mirthlessly. “You gotta admit,” he muttered, catching Kalylle’s eye. “That’s a hell of a hiding place.” When Kalylle lifted one brow in question, Philippe stabbed his spoon in his direction. “Well, no one goes up there. Any number of things could be hiding up amidst the snow.”
“And how will we get through the snow?”
His smile still in place, Philippe teased, “No spell for that?”
Scoffing, Kalylle leveled a mock-stern gaze at the man next to him. “There isn’t a spell for everything.”
Suddenly, true amusement shown from Philippe’s black eyes as he queried, “Are you certain? Surely you jest.”
Kalylle smiled, also finding amusement that their biggest problem seemed to be finding a way to get through snow. He held up a hand in defeat. “I’ll ask Canto. It’s not his area of expertise, but maybe he’ll know something.”
Philippe straightened, the change from amusement to distrust becoming apparent. “Like he knows how to put my soul back together?”
Concerned, Kalylle rested an elbow on the table as he leaned close and asked, “You think he’s lying about that? That he already knows and stalls?”
Relief flooded Kalylle when he saw Philippe shake his head. “No,” Philippe responded before shoving a spoonful of food into his mouth. After swallowing, he explained irritably, “But he’s hiding something. I can feel it.”
Sighing, Kalylle warned sadly, “Philippe, wizards always hide something.”
Ta Kale glanced between the men, obviously watching closely. “Then we’ll leave in the morning. I’m afraid I haven’t traveled through snow in many years, so I’ll need to pick up supplies at the foothills.” She rose from the table. “If you gentlemen will excuse me…”
The dismissal was clear. Kalylle lifted a brow as he smirked surreptitiously at the darkling. He rose from the table and led the way from the room. After collecting his things, he left the seer’s home. Once outside, Kalylle turned to Philippe and snorted. “Wow. It’s been years since I’ve been dismissed like that.”
Scoffing, Philippe glanced over at him and commented, “She’s certainly something else.” He shrugged before he disappeared.
Later that evening, Kalylle met with Philippe and Canto in the fellow wizard’s room at the elven palace. When he updated Canto of their plans, Canto’s eyes lit up. “Great! I know a tunneling spell we can use for that. Normally it’s used for dirt, but if we change the earth rune to the water one, it should convert perfectly. And”—he continued excitedly, obviously in his element—“if we use it near the surface, the weight of the snow above will collapse it, giving us a fairly safe path to walk on.”
When Canto outlined the spell, Kalylle nodded in understanding.
While Kalylle listened to Canto’s eager speech, obviously loving the adventure, he kept part of his at
tention on Philippe. The albino stayed across the room, standing before an empty fireplace. One forearm rested on the lintel, his eyelids at half-mast as he stared almost vacantly in Kalylle and Canto’s direction.
“I told you there was a spell for everything,” Philippe commented, proving he listened to every word.
Kalylle understood the need for distance. Once they’d returned to the palace, they’d discovered that if Philippe stayed too close to Canto, he had trouble controlling his inner daemon. In an angry whisper, Philippe had explained that his extra senses told him the man hid too much, angering his daemon side. The daemon wanted to beat it out of Canto every time he drew near.
Smiling broadly at his lover, Kalylle nodded, “So you were right.” Moving toward the door, Kalylle reminded, “Morning will come soon enough. I grow weary of traveling, so I’m going to take advantage of a bed for as long as I can. I’m turning in. See you in the morning.”
Kalylle wondered if Philippe would soon join him.
* * * *
Frowning, Philippe watched Kalylle go, then turned his narrowed gaze on Canto. The dark-haired wizard shrugged. “Sounds like a good idea to me. I haven’t been traveling since my adventure catching you.” He grinned.
The darkling thought about that a moment. He’d almost liked the wizard back then. Remorse had led him to heal the wounds he’d inflicted on the man, at least. Canto knew enough about Philippe to make him dangerous to him. What he didn’t know was what he could do about it.
“Any luck finding a spell to repair my soul?” Maybe if he asked the question flat out, he’d get a better reading on the man.
Canto shook his head, moving across the room toward him.
Philippe tensed.
“No, but knowing the runes used to cast a spell makes it easier to figure out how to undo it,” Canto told him.
That rang true, though he still felt subterfuge on the mage’s part.
His control slipping further the closer the wizard approached, Philippe swung away from him, staring into the empty fireplace. He felt the strain in his muscles as he ran his pale, slender fingers through his hair.
The Darkling's Kiss: Part Two: The Daemon Unleashed (The Daemon's Descendants Book 2) Page 12
