Evin started slowly, kissing and nibbling Gareth’s lips. Gareth’s response was gentle at first, but soon he was licking Evin’s lips hungrily and forcing his tongue in. Their tongues wrestled tenderly, pressing and stroking, exploring, and trying to push in deeper still. Evin wanted to get closer, to meld with that kiss until each could become part of the other’s body.
They pulled apart to breathe. Evin said, “I just can’t get enough of you!”
“I think about you all day. I can’t think of nothing else.”
“I know. I’m the same.”
“Sometimes I think of things that can’t never happen.”
Me too. “Well, hush, none of that now. Plenty can happen tonight, right?”
Gareth smiled. “Yes. I’ll even ask for stuff too. You’ll be proud of me.”
“Will I? I’m not sure…” Evin lowered his voice to a sultry purr. “Convince me. What are you gonna ask me to do later?”
“I, um… I want you to spill inside me again…if you like.”
Evin grinned. “Yes, I would. You better put me down so we can go get started.” But when Gareth set him on his feet, instead of walking away, Evin reached down and untied Gareth’s breeches. He slid his hand in the front, feeling the soft, taut skin of Gareth’s abdomen. Farther down, he touched the base of Gareth’s cock and used his palm to caress its full length. It stiffened quickly, tenting the leg of Gareth’s breeches.
“Ugh, now I’ll be rubbing it while I walk,” Gareth said in mock complaint.
“I like the sound of that. Want me to help?”
“I think you done your part already.” Before Evin could say more, Gareth took Evin into his arms and rubbed their hips together. He left his breeches untied and just held them up with one hand.
“Mmmm,” Evin said, “Now I’ll get to walk funny too.”
“Fair is fair.”
* * *
Before leaving the woods, Gareth glanced around warily. Evin waited, unable to look away from where Gareth’s ass rose above the breeches he barely wore, held up by his clenched fist.
Evin could hardly restrain himself; he wanted so much to lick Gareth from the small of the back down into that smooth cleft. But he would have to be patient. They had to get some stuff from the cave and go wash.
After a minor eternity, Gareth was satisfied that they could move into the open, and they started up the dusty hill toward the rock shelf at the mouth of their cave. Gareth looked back, saw that Evin was watching his ass flex as they climbed, and slid his breeches a little farther down.
Evin’s foot slipped on a loose rock, for real this time. “Shit!” They both laughed.
They continued up. Gareth played a little game, sliding the back side of his breeches up and down to keep Evin mesmerized. A part of Evin’s brain realized with warm surprise that Gareth finally understood how desirable he was. But it was a small part. Mostly Evin was thinking about what it would be like when he could get those breeches off altogether. Touching here, kissing there, and entering…
Gareth arrived first at the lip of the shelf. He stopped and turned around to let Evin see him from the front. Moonlight bathed his unearthly skin. The wide chest with dark nipples; muscle in rippling cords across his rib cage and in tight bunches over his stomach; the gentle, hairless swell of his lower abdomen; and—just at Evin’s eye level—a glimpse of Gareth’s cock revealed by the open breeches.
Evin’s heart thudded hard, like getting punched in the chest. It took his breath away, and he froze up for a moment. Gareth was free, open, sensual, and standing before him, waiting for his touch. Evin barely registered the look of undisguised adoration on Gareth’s face: His gaze was captured by the tantalizing pubic flesh. He wanted to press his face there, breathe Gareth in, and cover the taut abdomen with kisses. Evin started to climb.
A sound came then, like a sharp intake of breath ending in a hard, wet thump.
Surprised, Evin looked up to search for Gareth’s eyes, but what he saw was impossible: a stick reached out from Gareth’s chest, pointing up to the sky.
Gareth stepped backward, looking down at it. Confused.
The sound came again, ending with a crack as another stick hit a rock and snapped. Pieces rebounded from the point of impact. Not a stick, Evin realized. An arrow. He rushed forward to herd Gareth toward the safety of the cave. But Gareth just stood there, confounded, as if beginning to realize he was hurt before feeling it.
People ran out of the woods now, yelling. At the sound of their approach, Gareth came back to the moment just as Evin reached him and tried to get him moving.
Despite being shocked and wounded, Gareth grabbed Evin’s shoulder and pushed him behind to shield him from the attackers.
Then, with a sob of fear or pain, Gareth ripped the arrow out of his own chest.
Evin saw them: A man—Nicolas!—scrambled up the hill while trying to hold an ax ready to swing. Behind him, Tyber followed, brandishing a sword.
“No, stop!” Evin tried to move between Nicolas and Gareth, but a green arm snapped back to block and shove him, reeling, away from harm.
“Run, Evin!” Gareth said.
Nicolas reached Gareth. Without asking for surrender or giving any warning, Nicolas brought the ax down in a powerful swing. Gareth moved into the arc and caught Nicolas’s hand with his own open palm. Nicolas fumbled the ax, and as it fell, it struck Gareth a glancing blow on the head. Blood splashed, but he didn’t fall. He kicked Nicolas in the stomach. Nicolas tumbled down the hill. Gareth moved back from the lip to snatch up the ax.
Another arrow hit the ground close by. Evin scrambled farther away, then circled toward the edge of the rock shelf to see if he could find the archer.
Tyber made it over the edge and advanced on Gareth, sneering. “Filthy thing.”
“Go away! You can’t hurt me.” Blood from the head wound ran into Gareth’s eyes. He swiped a hand across his face and flicked drops of it away.
Tyber stepped in, swinging the sword in threatening arcs. Such hatred contorted his face that he was almost unrecognizable.
Evin tore his gaze away from them to look down the slope. Marc clambered up the hill as fast as he could. A bow and quiver were slung on his back. And Johan followed as well, carrying another ax. Evin looked for a loose rock or anything he could use as a weapon.
Gareth and Tyber circled each other. The sword stroked back and forth. Gareth’s face was blank as he watched for Tyber’s attack.
“Filthy thing, gonna die.”
“Please, just leave us alone, Tyber. I won’t—” Tyber lanced in with the sword and managed to cut Gareth deeply in the arm holding the ax. “Aaaaaah!”
Evin wanted to run to Gareth, but Marc arrived. Evin had lost his chance to find a weapon, but somehow he had to stop the others from joining Tyber. He stepped to block Marc and Johan with his body. “Leave him alone! He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Get out of the way, Evin,” Marc said. Johan didn’t wait for a reply but used his ax handle to clout Evin on the head in passing. Evin uttered a strangled cry as pain eclipsed all else for a moment. He staggered, and Marc pushed him away.
Evin put his hands to his head to keep it from splitting open. Just like when Tyber had knocked him out in the workshop. But this time he wouldn’t be weak, couldn’t be weak, because Gareth needed him.
Pain receded enough to let him open watering eyes.
Tyber feinted and then sliced for Gareth’s neck, but Gareth ducked low. The ax lay at Gareth’s feet and one of his arms hung uselessly. While still bent down, Gareth snatched the ax up in the other hand, letting his loose breeches hang off his hips, then leaped back up to stand. Tyber swept in for a one-two swing at Gareth’s midsection, but he was able to parry with the ax, and Tyber backed off.
Though he was still reeling, Evin tried to tackle Marc. But Johan stepped into his path and kneed him hard in the stomach. He fell to the ground.
Gareth had pushed fear for himself down deep inside the insta
nt he realized Evin was in danger. Oh, it was there, coiled in the pit of his stomach, waiting to strike again, but it wasn’t important. Not while Evin needed him. Gareth had been trying to defend himself without hurting anyone, hoping they’d come for him and leave Evin the chance to flee. If Evin could get to safety, Gareth could run. Tyber and his friends would never catch him in the forest.
But Evin had got it all wrong. He had run toward the fight and got knocked down. And Gareth couldn’t turn away from Tyber to go help him.
Johan joined Tyber and Marc as they circled Gareth. Marc held an arrow ready but seemed to be simply herding Gareth toward the others. Tyber ducked in and slashed the sword, threatening him again. Gareth realized Tyber hoped to distract him as Johan moved in with the ax. Gareth barely took his eyes off Tyber’s mean grin, but he was ready when Johan brought the ax down. He swung his own ax to meet it. Their weapons met in a powerful shock.
Johan fell with a cry, clutching his forearm. His weapon thudded to the ground.
The two strongest hunters were down. Only Tyber and little Marc left. Tyber’s grin faded, and his eyes grew like those of a frightened doe. He didn’t slash with the sword now, but held it up unsteadily for defense.
He must have realized he was going to lose.
Father’s training screamed at Gareth from the back of his mind. Tyber was too still now, too dulled by fear. Gareth saw himself knock Tyber’s blade from his weak little pink hand; grab the neck of his leathers and pull him closer; drive the ax into his flank far enough to sever his spine.
Instead Gareth glared into Tyber’s eyes and growled, hoping he might yet scare Tyber away. He stepped closer and roared like the bear had done. Tyber fell back but kept the sword up. Gareth crowded in, menace in every step, backing Tyber up until they reached the edge of the shelf.
It was working. Tyber would run. Gareth might not have to hurt anyone!
Then Marc shot him in the throat.
Searing pain flooded his neck. His scream was choked off by the arrow. He couldn’t breathe! He tore the weapon out and threw it away. Gasping drew blood into his lungs. He choked on it and spat it everywhere as he coughed uncontrollably. The ax fell from his grasp, and he bent forward, gripping his knees to prop himself up. Blood splattered to puddle in the dirt at his feet.
Tyber brought his sword down in an arc that chopped deep into the bone of Gareth’s shoulder, a sickening, crunching impact that jarred his whole body in the instant before it turned to pain. The weapon stuck, and Tyber yanked it free, pulling Gareth forward. Gareth fell to all fours with a burbling scream as his hands hit the ground and tore the wounded parts of his shoulder. Tyber kicked him, and he fell over onto his side.
The stars were out behind Tyber. He raised his sword again into the blue night sky. Tiny points of light flared and vanished in Gareth’s sight. Tyber chopped down with the sword, and Gareth’s guts exploded in pain.
Gareth tried to plead, to beg Tyber not to hurt Evin, but blood had filled his throat and he could not make words. A gray miasma drew across his vision. Tyber crouched over him, and through the closing fog he could barely see Tyber’s blood-flecked mouth move. “He’s mine!”
As the last of Gareth’s sight faded, Tyber rose, placed his sword point between ribs, and used his full weight to drive it into Gareth’s chest.
Evin gasped and fought the spasming muscles in his belly to get air. He made it to his knees and looked back toward the fight. Tyber kicked Gareth, who fell onto his side. Tyber raised the sword and slashed
Oh no oh no oh no
down into Gareth’s belly. Evin got to his feet and stumbled toward them. Tyber leaned into Gareth’s face and growled something. Tyber stood, placed the sword
No please no
and leaned against it, pushed its point into Gareth’s heart. Evin collapsed again and curled to cover his head with his arms. But he couldn’t shut it out, what he’d seen, or the sounds. The gurgling wheezes and weak coughs. Evin finally got enough air but could only use it to wail.
Get up he needs
Evin forced himself to move again. Tyber stood with his foot on Gareth’s body. He had pulled the sword from Gareth’s chest, and blood poured in gushes from the wound. Evin knelt by Gareth’s side.
“I’m here.” His voice was choked. “I’m here. I’m here.” Gareth’s face was slack. His eyes didn’t turn toward Evin. “I’m here.”
“Get away from it,” Tyber said, and he used his foot to shove Gareth off the edge of the rock. Gareth’s body slid a little way down. His hands, which had been clutching weakly at pouring wounds, went limp. Evin scrambled after.
“I’m here. I’m here.” He lay against Gareth, there on the incline, and held him as the wet noises and struggles for breath subsided. He put his face against Gareth’s chest, heedless of the blood already there, and added to it his tears.
When it was over, the cold of Gareth’s body seeped into his skin and into his heart.
Nothing mattered anymore.
Nothing ever would.
Chapter Eleven
Evin had been tied up and left alone in the cave. He struggled against his bonds and cried helplessly into the dirt while the others built a fire outside.
Nicolas and Johan came for him. Nicolas grabbed him under his armpits, and Johan took hold of his leg bindings with one hand. They carried him back outside.
The pools and splatters of blood were red now in the light of the fire. Gareth’s blood. The sight crushed Evin like a closed fist and stole his breath.
Nicolas and Johan put Evin down in front of the cave mouth, across from the fire, then went farther away from the cave to sit cross-legged next to Marc. Tyber paced in the space between them and Evin. He still carried his sword.
“We are gathered to judge our brother, Evin Pandoon, for unspeakable crimes. Do you swear to do your duty?” He spoke imperiously, the way his father did at trials, to incite the village men to punish others.
“We swear,” Tyber’s friends said.
“His crimes are terrible and unnatural. If condemned, he will merit no punishment but death. Are you prepared to carry out your duty?”
“We are,” said Johan and Nicolas. Marc began to cry.
Evin heard these things as if from far away.
Tyber raised the sword. “What are the charges?”
“Gettin fished by the monster!” Johan cried.
“First charge,” Tyber said. “Whoring for a demon.”
“Uh…not telling anyone?” Johan said.
“Second charge.” Tyber marched over and pointed the sword into Evin’s face. “Lying. Not warning the village.” He lowered the sword and leaned in, his face twisting in fury. “Making me a fool to protect the demon.” He spat into Evin’s face.
Nicolas said, “Kissing on the demon?”
“That’s not worse than letting it fish him out with its stick,” Johan said.
“Evin knows the law,” Tyber said. “They’ll take him away to bleed him. It’s death to take the place of a woman.”
As if they all hadn’t used Evin this way.
“Evin Pandoon, what say you?”
Evin didn’t respond. Tyber stabbed the sword’s point into the side of his thigh, drawing blood. Evin hissed, but the pain tore him from his misery, made him focus on Tyber.
“What say you?” Tyber repeated. “Answer the charges, whore.”
Evin struggled to get free of the leather straps and uttered a string of curses at Tyber. He rolled to his stomach and tried to get up onto his knees. Tyber kicked him viciously back over onto his side. “You will respect the court!”
Evin retched into the dirt and tried to breathe.
Tyber waited until he recovered, then ordered again, “You will answer the charges of keeping a demon and being its whore.”
“You’re not the court, you bastard. You killed him. He never hurt anyone, and you killed him!”
“I did kill him.” Tyber grinned and turned to swagger toward his audience. �
�I stabbed a demon’s heart and saved my village! Just like a demon hunter.” He turned back to Evin. “But he didn’t hurt you, did he? How long has he polluted you with his seed? And you begging for more.”
“That’s what you want to know. That’s why you killed him. You just want to know why you couldn’t make me beg for you, you filthy kenzul!”
“Shut up!”
“You took him away because I wanted him. Because he was better than you.”
Tyber faced Evin directly and pointed the sword at him. “I’m warning you, you’ll—”
“Because I wanted him, and you’re nothing! You’re nothing to me.”
“I’ll kill you myself!”
“And I know why you need to be important. Because of your father. You’re nothing to him, either, are you? You’re nothing to anybody!”
Tyber’s face tightened into a knot of rage. “Guilty! Guilty!”
He rushed for Evin, raising his sword to strike.
Evin laid his head back to expose his throat.
As the blade still rose, a blur of motion took Tyber. He made a strangled cry and slammed to the ground at the cave’s mouth. His sword spun off into the cave’s darkness.
Gareth crouched between Evin and the others, his back to Evin, and bellowed in fury and defiance. He really was a demon now. Tyber’s friends sat wide-eyed, paling, and motionless as Gareth raged at them. A stain spread in Johan’s breeches.
Gareth’s scream died away. He looked over his shoulder, back at Evin. Then he leaped to Evin’s side and reached out, but his hand wasn’t a hand, it was a claw! “Stop,” Evin said as Gareth opened his mouth and lowered his head, but he only bit the leather bindings on Evin’s legs. He used an open palm to roll Evin over, facedown, and bit off the arm bindings as well.
Evin rolled back to look up at him and saw Tyber running toward them, raising a burning branch. Evin shouted, “Watch out!” But Gareth didn’t have time to react. Tyber clubbed his exposed back.
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