All That Shimmers

by N. J. Nielsen

  “Think along the lines of a terminator. In centuries past, the warriors were sent out to take care of problem people and take over ferocious situations. The warriors were supposed to create peace by any means possible and too many people died at their hands. Then the hunters became the hunted, until those of warrior descent decided to hide what they were,” Eric explained. He frowned before adding, “Our ancestors used the warriors, then sat back and watched as the species was almost wiped off the face of the earth.”

  “Shit! Some people are just fucked in the head, if you ask me.”

  “Spoken like a true human.” Eric chuckled.

  Mitch snorted. “Part-human—don’t you remember I’m also part-demon and part-vampire? I’m not sure what they think I’ve become.”

  “At least you’re alive. If Gabriel had gotten his way, you would’ve died on that sidewalk. When he mistakenly doused you with what he thought to be demon poison, he didn’t know his actions would fuse you and Remi together.” Eric wasn’t as fast to forgive the boy’s former day warden. Claudius and Isiah deserved better than what—or should that be who?—they’d ended up with. Gabriel might be playing nice now, but how long would it last?

  “Lucky for us Remi’s clan stepped in when they did,” Mitch answered.

  Eric stared at Mitch as if the guy had gone mad. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t the Larkos Clan want Remi to kill you so he could live again in your body?”

  “Oh, that. It would never have happened. Remi loved me from the moment he became aware of his surroundings. There is no way he’d have hurt me.”

  “Your capacity to forgive is far greater than mine,” Eric stated.

  Mitch shrugged. “I’ve just learnt to let things go. Not everything is always what it seems. Adrian being under the thumb of Jordon. Gabriel believed his life had been destroyed by the boys turning into vampires. Gabe’s actually quite nice, once you get to know him.”

  “And the Larkos Clan wanting you dead?” Eric asked.

  “They were just trying to get Remi back. They’d lived a long time without their leader. I can’t fault them for that. At least in the end they helped separate us and now they, or should I say, Vance and his concoctions, are keeping Tagh alive until we can figure out how to wake him up again,” Mitch answered.

  “I thought you said I am the one keeping him alive.”

  Mitch shook his head. “No. You’re the one keeping him stable. And if either of you realize what being a mate means, you’ll help him stay grounded. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but you’re my best friend. I just want you to think about all the good that could come out of this. You always kept your sexual preferences close to your chest, so most people thought you’re straight, but you and I know the truth and I guess now so does everyone else.”

  Eric closed his eyes and cringed at the thought of everyone knowing his business. He’d always hated that. He was usually a very private person—the face he showed the world was a far cry from the real Eric. Ever since he’d fallen into his role as a day warden, Eric had hidden part of himself from his closest friends.

  After Mitch left Eric to his solitary watch over Tagh, Eric had all the time in the world to slowly sort through the troubling thoughts inside his head. First and foremost, he needed to figure out whether he could even do what they wanted. Could he be the person Tagh needed to hold him together? Most importantly, could he step out of his self-imposed closet and let the world really see him?

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, he’d started dreaming about a blond-haired, green- eyed man who kept asking him for help. The only problem—Eric had no clue where to send anyone to rescue the guy. Hell, he didn’t even know the person’s name. The guy had stunning looks, so Eric thought he would have remembered meeting him before. Eric had only started dreaming of said guy since Tagh had come home hurt. Could there be a connection? Maybe. Eric always hated waking from the dreams, knowing he’d failed yet again to help the person. So many times, he’d wished he could turn his dreams into reality, if only to figure out where the hell to find his dream man. Because if the guy existed, he needed help and he needed it fast. Each time they met in their sleep, the man had another bruise on his emaciated body. Eric hated thinking about how much longer the guy could last in his current condition. If only he could free the young man and let him live some kind of normal life—but first he had to figure out if his dream would become a reality. God, he hoped not—nobody deserved to be treated like that.

  Chapter Two

  An itch started deep in Tagh’s core. He wanted badly to relieve the pain. Somewhere inside, he knew things were different now. The others—people he’d claimed as friends—would now know what he’d been hiding. His well-kept secrets had come out. How could they not have? Would his friends still be friends once they’d found him or, like everyone else, declare his life forfeit? Jordon St. James had made sure that Tagh’s beating had taken him to the brink of life. Why he’d stopped there and hadn’t finished the job remained a mystery. Tagh’s mind wandered back and showed him every hit he’d taken before they’d left him for dead. Do they believe me dead or are they coming back later to finish the job? If he had his way, he’d will himself into death before that happened. At least, then, he’d find peace.

  Why can’t I wake up? If he had any chance of escaping, he needed to open his eyes and figure out how to get free of the damn bed. While he lay there thinking, he heard voices drifting in and out until only one remained constant—Eric. Why had the man stayed beside him? Had the others found him? Could he see what Tagh had always kept hidden?

  “Wake up, Tagh,” his angel spoke beside him. “You need to wake the hell up. We have so much going on and it’s not helping that your lazy ass is down here.”

  Okay, maybe Eric wasn’t as much of an angel as he’d thought. Forcing himself into a conscious state, Tagh blinked until the room came fully into focus. “You have such a wonderful bedside manner.”

  The frown on Eric’s face turned to shock. His pacing came to a halt and he stepped toward the bed. “About bloody time you woke up.”

  “What have I missed?” Tagh didn’t try sitting up. He wasn’t even sure he’d be able to.

  “Besides the fact everyone—or mostly everyone—being shocked as shit over your new body art, not much, actually. Mitch said that they’re getting the guild back up and running and Simon is making sure no one has a chance to get rid of him again. Adrian dropped a bombshell about Jordon not being the only threat out there. Apparently, we are expecting an influx of newcomers and Orion is now the leader of the Simmel Clan.” Eric ended abruptly.

  “I—”

  Eric cut him off. “Oh, I almost forgot. I’m apparently your mate and the one person meant to keep you sane. If that’s true, you are so screwed.”

  “I would never make you do something that you aren’t comfortable with.” That way, he could let Eric off the hook. He’d always suspected Eric was his mate but had also thought Eric wouldn’t be too happy with the prospect, so he’d kept quiet.

  Eric sighed. “I know you wouldn’t. Do you think I’m your mate?”

  “I know you are and have since the day we met,” he answered.

  “And yet you didn’t say anything,” Eric stated.

  Tagh shook his head and winced at the flash of pain he felt. “I couldn’t tell if you knew and were ignoring the fact, or whether you really didn’t know. If it happened to be the latter, you had to come to the conclusion on your own.”

  “I’m human. You could have been waiting a long time for me to get a clue. I might also have been well and truly in the closet. What would you have done if I never figured it out?” Eric asked.

  He thought about it for a moment before answering. “I’d have eventually tried to explain, or I would have gone insane and died.”

  “Mitch said your darker tendency would have come out. What did he mean by that?”

  “I could have gone into blood lust and killed indiscriminately, whether the peo
ple deserved it or not, and I would have enjoyed every life I took,” Tagh answered. Eric needed to know the truth about both sides of Tagh’s nature. “You don’t have to worry about that though. I have a plan in motion for in case it ever happens. Someone who owes me a debt is ready to end me if I should ever lose it.”

  “Who?”

  Tagh shook his head. “That I’ll never tell you. If anyone knows who it is, they may try and stop them before they can complete their promise to me.”

  “What? You don’t get second chances?”

  “My kind have never gotten second chances. It’s either we toe the line or we die.”

  Eric frowned back at him. “Well, that doesn’t seem fair.”

  “When has life ever been fair? My kind live their whole lives praying for their mate to come along and save them. Don’t look so frightened. I know you don’t want me, so I’m not holding you to our mating. I told you I already have a plan in place.”

  “A stupid plan, if you ask me.”

  What the hell is wrong with my mate? Murtagh had tried giving the man an out and now Eric kept arguing with him. “It’s either my contingency plan or you’re locked to me for the rest of our days and, believe me, Draconian Warriors live far longer than any other species. Mind you, we’ll never know our full life expectancy because we’re usually hunted down before our time.”

  “So you’d rather die than live?” Eric asked.

  Murtagh thought about it for a moment before saying, “No, but to live I want a mate who will love me. I want the whole thing and not just a piecrust love that crumbles and breaks. If your heart isn’t in it, it’s better I stick with my original plan.”

  “I would slap you into next week if you weren’t so damn beaten to shit.”

  The anger in Eric’s voice came across as both evident and somewhat confusing to Murtagh. “What the hell do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to give me time. Time so I can work it all out inside my headspace. I don’t want you to die, but you have to understand something. I have never been out. The only person who figured out I’m gay was Mitch. I don’t know how to be out, so, yes, I need time. That means you can stop being so bloody hasty to die already.”

  Well, it wasn’t an admission of love, but at least it hadn’t been a fuck off and leave me the hell alone. The only problem Tagh could see was how much time it would take Eric. Tagh was already running on empty. If Eric waited for too long, the decision might be taken out of their hands.

  “Okay, Eric. I have a while. Take the time you need.” Tagh closed his eyes, hoping against the odds that Eric thought him asleep and would him alone so he could sort his way through everything as well.

  No such luck.

  After about half an hour of waiting, Tagh felt the bed dip as Eric lay carefully down beside him, placing his hand on Tagh’s chest. A few moments later, deep breathing told Tagh his mate was sleeping.

  Tagh lay there, staring at the ceiling and holding the hand Eric had placed on him. He didn’t know how long he’d been lying there when Vance walked into the room and sat in the chair Eric had been using earlier.

  “It’s about time he got some real rest.” He indicated Eric. “He hasn’t left your side for more than a few minutes at a time since you were brought in here. How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve had the shit kicked out of me. In reality, I feel better than I thought I would,” Murtagh admitted.

  Vance nodded. “Your mate is helping you mask the pain and is speeding up the healing process.”

  “How do you know?” Murtagh asked, curious as there really wasn’t that much known about his race.

  “A long time ago, my clan gave refuge to some of your people. Selene and Durian. They weren’t kin to you, but they were a very welcome addition to our den. After many years residing with us, they thought they needed to take part in the world again and left. Sadly, they were set upon not long after and were killed just because of what they were. While they lived with us, they never had to hide their markings, and I think they might have forgotten to do so out in the world where the rest of humanity could see them.”

  Such a short speech, yet it told Murtagh so much. Maybe there’d be a chance for him and Eric after all. “Thank you for telling me.”

  Vance shrugged. “You have to know there are people here who don’t care what species you are. We only see you as Murtagh. Nothing more, nothing less. There are going to be haters no matter what, but with the help of your friends, you can get through this.”

  “Again, thank you.”

  “Is it true what you said to the little guy? That you have someone who will take you out if needs be?” Vance asked.

  Murtagh smiled at the thought of anyone calling Eric the little guy. The man stood at least six foot two, but compared to most of the demon clan, he would be considered a shrimp. “I never lie.”

  “I know. It’s one of the things I liked about your species. You don’t have the ability to tell an untruth. You can’t even bend the wording to lessen the blow.” Vance chuckled. “I, for one, always appreciated the honesty.”

  “Good to know. Now, when can I move back to my room?” Murtagh grimaced at how cold he sounded. “Not that there is anything wrong with your infirmary, but I would much prefer my own bed.”

  “I don’t see why you can’t move back as soon as your mate’s awake. I’m sure the others are all waiting to hear from you and see that you’re fine.”

  Murtagh wasn’t so sure of that, but right now he didn’t want to argue about it. He lay silently as Vance checked his vitals and anything else that needed prodding. Closing his eyes, he ran through his own mental checklist, looking for signs of pain. Aside from the dull headache, there wasn’t much. Out of curiosity, Murtagh lifted Eric’s hand, laid it across his eyes and sighed in relief when the pain in his head began to lessen. Maybe having a mate close by wasn’t going to be such a bad thing after all.

  The only thing he had to work out was how to help Eric become comfortable with their new relationship. He knew he couldn’t rush him, or Eric would more than likely do a runner. Murtagh needed Eric to stay of his own free will and not feel as though he had been pushed into something he wasn’t ready for.

  Being mated seemed like a lot of very hard work. How the hell did Remi, Mitch, Isiah and Claude manage it when there were four of them, plus the three children?

  Carefully, Murtagh slid from the bed so as not to disturb his sleeping mate. He needed to use the bathroom and, right now, he didn’t need an audience. He stood and made his way slowly to the bathroom. Once he’d finished his business, he stopped before the sink and stared at himself in the overhead mirror. The tattoos—for want of a better word—stood out starkly against his pale flesh. Each intricate piece of the pattern had special meaning for his family line. They told the story of his past and that of his ancestors as well. The more powerful the warrior clan, the more intricate the design. Unlike a normal human tattoo, the fine lines would never bleed together. The design would stay the same, only changing slightly with major events in the warrior’s life. The scrollwork making its way down the left side of his chin and neck told the story of how Murtagh had found his mate. If Eric stayed, the lines would continue. If Eric left him, the markings would fade over time until nothing remained but a faint reminder of what could have been.

  Murtagh wanted so much for Eric to stay. He’d been alone for a very long time and cherished the possibility of now having a mate. Eric’s fears were understandable. The bravest man or woman alive would have to think about accepting the role of a Draconian Warrior’s mate. So much of their histories had described his kind as blood-seeking monsters of vengeance. His people had hidden for so long that even Murtagh didn’t know what truth lay in the past. He’d never once thought about hunting down people and killing them for the hell of it. Being a guild member, he stood up for innocence. Murtagh had always been a protector and never the executioner. Even after all they had been through, Murtagh couldn’t see his basic n
ature changing so drastically he’d need to be hunted and wiped from the face of the earth.

  Basically, he needed to find a way to prove to everyone that his species weren’t the fabled monsters everyone made them out to be. They had to know that he, along with any more of his kind, deserved the chance to live like everyone else. Murtagh knew it would be much easier if Eric stood at his side throughout the whole ordeal. With Eric there, Murtagh would be strong enough to face whatever came their way.

  Chapter Three

  Hunger gnawed at Jory. None of them had eaten well in the last week and his cell wasn’t the only one to be affected. The other seven cells were in the same condition—their handlers were only feeding them enough to survive. They didn’t care if their captives were at the point of starvation. None of the inmates on display ever saw much outside the four walls of their glass prisons and the assigned room for when their time to ‘play’ out of their cages came around. Play. That was what the masters called it, even though ‘playing’ had absolutely nothing to do with what went on inside those rooms. At least there they had real beds. Not like the threadbare blankets and worn mattresses littering one side of the cell where they slept two to each one.

  “Jory, you need to rest.”

  He smiled at his friend Silla. They were closer than he and the others, but his seven cellmates were now his family. They never got to interact with the captives in the other cells. For some reason, the masters didn’t want them mixing. Actually, they frowned upon any sorts of friendships forming and often pitted people against each other.

  “I’m okay, Silla. If I go to sleep, I’ll only dream about all the things I can’t have.”

  She sighed deeply. “I want to get out of here. I want to make them pay for hurting us all. I hate them so much.”