by A. H. Lee
Mal was staring at the collar. Jessica could tell that the sight of it rattled him. With a visible effort, he raised his eyes to Azrael’s face. His voice came out in a snarl. “Not for free.”
Azrael blinked at him.
“You took my magic for years,” spat Mal. “You don’t get it for free ever again.”
Azrael hesitated. “Your price?”
Mal’s eyes narrowed. Jessica could almost see the wheels in his head turning. Oh dear.
“You. No wards. Anything I want.”
A long pause, during which Jessica did not dare breathe.
Azrael deliberately took a sip of tea. “No. What else?”
Mal sat back, smirking. “There’s nothing else I want from you.”
Nonsense.
Azrael was glaring now. Mal just grinned. “If you want your impossibly long and difficult gate, that’s the price.”
Jessica felt certain that Azrael would get up and leave. But finally, he said, “One night.”
“One week,” countered Mal.
“One night,” repeated Azrael, “after the ball is over. And you don’t feed on me.”
Mal yawned. “You seem to think yourself extraordinarily expensive.”
Azrael’s face had closed over his initial emotions and he looked as though he were negotiating a boundary line or a trade agreement. Jessica wanted to shake them both.
“If I don’t feed on you at least a little bit, you won’t relax enough to have any fun,” whined Mal.
Jessica could see that “fun” was the furthest thing from Azrael’s mind in this situation. “Do you still want to eat me?” he asked quietly.
His tone wiped the smile off Mal’s face. “No. I’m not asking to eat you. Well, not to eat you up.”
“But that is your instinct,” said Azrael. “It’s the strongest instinct of any summoned entity, and if you begin, I do not think you will be able to stop.”
Mal looked a little offended. “You don’t think much of my self-control.”
Azrael said nothing.
“Fine,” snapped Mal. “No feeding. But three nights. It will take you that long to calm down without magic.”
“One night,” said Azrael firmly.
Mal shook his head.
Azrael stood up and slipped the collar into his pocket. “Well, I am glad to know you are both well. Jessica, please give my regards to your parents.”
He was out the door and halfway down the porch steps before Mal jumped up and went after him, “Fine, fine! Gods, you are impossible. One night! No feeding!”
Jessica followed them outside. It was early evening, and the shadows stretched from the big trees over the grass. Azrael turned slowly at the foot of the steps. Mal looked down at him from the top. “But no wards?” Mal sounded almost plaintive.
Azrael licked his lips. Jessica thought he’d been relieved when the negotiations seemed to have failed. Now he was on edge again. “No wards,” he said at last.
Mal smiled, his confidence returning. “And Jessica gets to watch!”
Azrael winced.
“You watched us the first time,” shot Mal.
Jessica was at once delighted and disturbed. He is going to panic and run.
Azrael didn’t say anything, just shut his eyes and gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Mal clapped his hands. “Well, then you have a deal with a demon. When are we going to start working on this gate? It will take us most of the week to put the whole thing together…if we can even do it.”
Azrael nodded again without looking at him. “I’ll come by tomorrow.”
“Are you not going to stay for dinner?” asked Jessica.
“Not tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow. Good evening to you both.”
He started away down the long drive, walking quickly. After an instant, Jessica said, “Mal, I want a word with him, and I think you should stay here.”
“But—”
“Please?” Jessica didn’t wait for an answer, just hurried down the steps after Azrael.
Mal and Jessica’s vacation cottage belonged to a farmer, and the half-mile drive wound through his fields. The hay had just been baled, and its odor hung rich and fragrant on the cool autumn air. The path was all short grass and sand. Jessica could walk it barefoot without discomfort, and she caught up with Azrael after a short distance. She had to trot to keep pace with him. He kept his eyes on the road. “Jessica, I really do not want to have a conversation with you right now.”
“I know, my lord, but I think you should.”
He did not look at her or slow down. Jessica reached out and took his hand. That seemed to startle him, and he finally glanced at her face. Jessica folded her warm fingers around his cooler ones—all delicate bones and small calluses from holding pens. “Laurence…” she said softly.
He stopped walking. He was trembling. She could tell that he really did not want to be seen like this. She didn’t want to humiliate him, but she couldn’t bear the idea of just letting him walk away. Jessica stepped around in front of Azrael and met his eyes. “You don’t have to do this. No matter what Mal says. And if you do, I don’t have to be there. Not if that will make it worse.”
He took a shaky breath. “It’s probably better if you’re there. He’s less likely to eat me.”
Jessica squeezed his hand. “Mal loves you,” she whispered. “He would not hurt you for the world. Please don’t be afraid of him. Of us.”
His dark, almond-shaped eyes met hers and for one instant, Jessica saw all his uncertainty. Then he composed himself and gave her a watery smile. His body stilled, as though he’d tucked the fear away somewhere inside him. “Thank you, Jessica. I realize that you mean me no harm. I should have anticipated this demand from Mal.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll get through it. I’ve gotten through worse. Now, please let me go. I really do have things to do.”
Jessica sighed and dropped his hand. She wasn’t sure what else to say. She glanced back towards the cottage and saw Mal still standing on their porch, watching. In the other direction, Azrael strode towards the road that led into town—a slim figure in a dark suit, walking fast. I don’t want to see you humiliated, thought Jessica, but if you just ‘get through this,’ it will hurt Mal more than I think you realize. Maybe more than he knows himself.
Chapter 4
Jessica
Mal and Jessica’s cottage did not have the latest in refrigeration devices, but the shed did contain an icebox. Mal decided to clean his goose and put it away while Jessica made dinner. He normally did this in the morning after he went hunting, when the light was better. Jessica thought he wanted time alone to think.
She was an indifferent cook, but she did enjoy poking through the local markets. She puttered around the kitchen, warming things up, and when Mal came in, they had piles of thinly sliced meat on flat bread with local cheese and a sharp sauce. It was tasty and he said so, but then he grew uncharacteristically quiet.
“Who is Lucy?” asked Jessica at last.
Mal sniffed. “Lucrecia. A bright magic aspect of Avarice. Quite elderly. She’s bound inside a perfume bottle with a spell so old and powerful that even Azrael can’t figure out how to break it. We found her on the Shrouded Isle when we first took it. There were ancient ruins there—an old kingdom from before the sundering, before magic got so strong that the lake spirit took the island, and nobody could hold it until Azrael. We found Lucy’s bottle in the ruins. She’s useful sometimes, but also irritating.”
Jessica smiled down at her plate. “How does bright magic Avarice work?”
“She induces generosity in wealthy people. Philanthropy. Also mutually beneficial business decisions.”
Jessica laughed in delight. “That does sound useful.”
“Yes, well, she doesn’t like me at all.”
“Why?”
Mal poked at his food. “I don’t know. She calls Azrael a ‘sweet boy’ and acts like I’ve done something to him. Like he didn’t bind me! I think she’s just
accustomed to being the strongest demon around, and I can set her on her ass. Or maybe she’s just old and cranky. She likes to sleep. It’s been at least a year since Azrael last summoned her.” Half under his breath, Mal muttered, “I wish he’d leave her in her stupid perfume bottle forever.”
“Well, he has to get magic from somewhere, right?”
Mal grunted.
Jessica laughed. “You don’t want to give him magic, but you don’t want him to get it from anyone else.”
Mal finished his food and leaned back, grumbling. “I’ll give him magic.” In a more cheerful voice, he said, “I cannot believe he’s going to let me fuck him! You did want to watch, right? Maybe join in, too. Maybe I should have been more specific—”
Jessica sighed. “Mal…”
“What?”
“Be careful with him, alright?”
“I’m always careful.”
You’re always skillful; it’s not quite the same thing. Jessica stood up. “Let’s take a walk.”
Mal was always up for a walk. They strolled through the paths between the fields under a star-dusted dome of black velvet, watching the occasional shadow of a bat. “You don’t want just one night,” said Jessica at last.
Mal had threaded his big, warm fingers through hers. Jessica felt his grip shift uncomfortably. “That’s all he’ll give me.”
“It’s all he’s willing to risk without knowing what he’s getting into. Mal, he is afraid of you.”
“You always say that, but I don’t see it. He’s the one with all the power.” In a smaller voice, Mal added, “I’m the one who wants him. He is just making a business transaction.”
You can’t possibly believe that. “He wants you,” she said softly. “You know it. You’ve always known it.”
“Most of the time, I can’t tell.”
“Only because he’s good at wards. And you’re so good at sensing desire that you believe you can’t be thwarted. You think that if you can’t sense it, it’s not there.”
“I know he’s good at wards.” Mal kicked a rock. “He’s good at everything.”
“Except this.”
“Poor, poor Azrael. Most powerful sorcerer in the world, fabulously wealthy lord of the Shrouded Isle, and there’s just one little thing he’s not good at.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “I mean, it’s not only you he’s afraid of. It’s sex. Intimacy. Azrael is almost forty years old. For a human, that’s a late start.”
Mal seemed genuinely surprised. “He’s not old. Not for a sorcerer. They don’t die of age. They die of things like me.”
“How reassuring.”
“My point is, he isn’t old!”
“In his head, he is. For having sex for the first time, he is. He probably thinks it’s too late for him.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“I’m only telling you how humans think.”
“Humans are ridiculous.”
“Mal, do you want to fuck him more than once?”
“Yes.”
“Good. So do I.”
Mal snickered. He let go of her hand and slid his arm around her waist. “That, I would like to see.” He eased a finger between the buttons of her dress.
Jessica put her arm around his hips and leaned against him—all sleek muscle, radiating heat through his clothes. “I love you.”
Mal’s arm curled more tightly around her. He flipped two of the buttons open and slipped his entire hand inside her dress. Jessica giggled. She stopped walking and turned to face him. Mal brought his mouth to meet hers before she could speak. He’d let himself grow some stubble because he knew she liked it, and his full lips trailed warm, scratchy kisses from her mouth to the pulse of her throat.
Gods, he’s good. “I love you,” she breathed, “but I’m not sure I want you to undress me in the middle of a hay field.”
He spoke playfully between kisses. “Give me another thirty seconds and see how you feel about it then.”
“Hmm…” He had her dress half open now, both of his hands inside, gliding up and down over her breasts and back. He pressed a finger between her legs and she moaned. “Mal…” His tongue moved against hers—delicate, teasing.
Jessica pulled back a fraction. “Mal, there’s…there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”
He was rubbing between her legs. “I’m listening.”
She unlocked her arms from his neck, caught his hand, and placed it on her hip so that she could think. “You want to go home, don’t you?”
Mal went completely still.
“I’ve seen the parts of the kingdoms I wanted to see most,” continued Jessica, “and I still like the idea of traveling now and then, but I’m tired of living out of a trunk. We keep saying we should move on from this cottage, but we don’t…and it’s because we’ve had enough. You’re homesick and I…I want a home.”
Mal’s eyes were dilated to blackness, wide in the starlight. He swallowed. “The Provinces are your home.”
“They were,” said Jessica. “And I enjoyed seeing my family, but I’ve changed. I’m not the same girl who left the Provinces, and I can’t imagine living out my life there as a shopkeeper or miller. I can see, too, how the world of humans is…not always ideal for people like us. The Shrouded Isle is. Azrael does good things with magic. I am willing to go back there with you…if that’s what you want.”
A heartbeat’s pause. Then he was kissing her hard, all over her face and neck—licking her, nibbling, forgetting what form he was in. Jessica laughed. She tried to say something, and then Mal scooped her up and carried her into the hay field. He stopped beside a sweet-smelling bale, sheltered from view of the path. He set her on her feet, dropped to his knees, and pushed her dress up.
“I know,” said Jessica breathlessly. “It’s alright. I know you want to go…” She gasped. “Go home.” Mal’s hot tongue slid inside her—smaller than the panther’s, but somehow more intimate in its humanity. He was holding her hips like he owned them.
Jessica whimpered. She leaned back against the hay bale, her dress half open, the night air cool against her skin. Mal’s curls slid over her thighs. He put one finger inside her and pressed, rubbing, his tongue still moving against her clit.
Oh gods. Jessica knew she was about to come. “Stop.”
He did, though with obvious confusion. Jessica pulled her dress from around his head, bent, and pushed him gently over backwards. She unfastened his trousers with shaking hands and he shimmied out of them, kissing her mouth again. Jessica straddled his lap and slid down onto his hard cock. She paused for a moment, panting. She was still right on the edge.
Mal looked up at her, the faintest flush visible in the tea-colored skin of his cheeks. You are so beautiful. I don’t know how Azrael kept his hands off you all those years. “I know you want to go home,” she whispered. “And I’ll go with you. I think we can have Azrael, too, for a lot more than one night if we don’t mess this up. So, when I say, ‘be careful with him’—”
Mal kissed her. “I’ll be careful.” He put his mouth against her ear and growled, “Now please, please fuck me.” Jessica rocked against him and they both came, trembling, under the autumn stars.
Chapter 5
Mal
Mal wasn’t surprised when Azrael arrived the next day on horseback. He’d always loved horses for reasons Mal couldn’t understand. Useful creatures, but stupid.
Mal met him at the end of the long drive in panther form and paced him all the way to the cottage. The horse was well-bred and well-trained, but clearly not accustomed to sharing the road with panthers. It took all of Azrael’s skill to keep the animal moving in the right direction.
Mal ran along beside them and watched. Sometimes, when Azrael jumped horses at home, Mal would jump with him—partially because it was fun and partially because he enjoyed demonstrating that he could jump higher than any horse. Also, although Mal would never admit it, because he enjoyed watching Azrael ride.
Azrael
never simply sat on a horse. He rode the animal with his whole body. Azrael was an academic to his core, but between the horses, his daily treks up and down his tower, and regular patrols of the wards across his island, he was in excellent physical condition.
Until Jessica’s comments, it had never occurred to Mal that his master might think himself too old for intimacy. There is no reason in the world he should have any trouble in bed. No reason except his own ridiculous notions.
Azrael did not speak to Mal as he tethered the horse to a porch railing, and Mal flopped down across the top step with his head on his paws. The horse’s saddle bags were full of materials for wards and spells, and Azrael unstrapped them carefully. Mal spoke at last. “You’re like a person without a scent to me.”
Azrael looked up from the contents of the saddle bags.
“But Jessica says you feel things under all those wards,” continued Mal. “It just seems to me like you don’t.”
Azrael left the saddlebags and came to sit on the top step beside Mal’s head. He leaned back on his hands and looked out over the patchwork fields. A light mist hung over the hay bales. Morning birds were singing.
Mal scooted forward and rested his enormous head in Azrael’s lap. His master would allow that. Sometimes. “You like me better when I’m a cat,” muttered Mal. “You’d never let me do this if I were a man.”
Azrael gave a grunt.
“Jessica says that’s because I’m distractingly attractive as a man, but I think she’s just projecting.”
This time, Azrael’s grunt was almost a laugh.
Mal smiled. “You thought I wasn’t paying attention when you read me all those psychology textbooks, but I know what projecting is.”
Azrael scooted away from him, and Mal lifted his head. The sorcerer fished in the inner pocket of his coat. He found the silver collar and held it out to Mal on two fingers. Their eyes met. “This is the most intimate thing I have ever done with anyone.” Azrael’s voice was low and somehow pleading.
