by Willa Okati
“I’ll answer you if you answer me.”
“Pushing your limits, pet.”
“How do I know when I’m pushing when we haven’t set boundaries?”
“Pushy and flip and impertinent. But, fine, go ahead. Consider it a bonus. I’m not always going to be this generous.”
Harrison rubbed Martin’s fingers between his own. “Did you enjoy being with me?”
Martin grinned. “Duh. It wasn’t bad, pet. Not bad at all. Was it good for you?”
“I had fun.” Harrison paused. “I’m not sure, but in my research Dominants didn’t generally snuggle on their subs’ chests to enjoy the afterglow.”
“I’m not your average Dom.”
“Fair enough. I’m pretty sure I won’t be your average sub.”
“Hmm. Speaking of which. The contract we signed--”
“I didn’t come here expecting this,” Harrison said thoughtfully. “Truth be told, I’d often wondered why I didn’t just delete your e-mails in the first place. Do you think the Heart had his finger in the pie?”
“Possibly. It could have been the Heart. Or Liam.”
“Liam?”
“I’ll explain later. Why didn’t you erase my e-mails?” Martin shrugged. “As a wise old owl once said, the world may never know.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Tootsie Roll Pop commercial. You know-- ‘How many licks does it take to get to the center?’” Martin elbowed Harrison in a friendly manner. He slid his tongue suggestively over his lips. “I wouldn’t call what you’re packing a Tootsie Pop, but it does have a tasty filling, and I’d like to see how many licks it takes before I get there.”
“You’re the Master.”
“True, but...” Martin freed one hand and scratched the back of his neck. “Let me clear up something that’s suddenly bugging me. Finding subspace doesn’t mean turning into a zombie the rest of the time.”
“No, really?”
“Smartass.”
“Yes, Master.”
“And another thing...” Martin lifted a finger to his mouth and chewed at a nail. “I can’t help but think, again, how every time I look at you...”
“It feels like we’ve known each other for a long time now, even though we just met tonight?”
“In a nutshell, yeah.”
Harrison chose his words with careful thought. “I think the Heart knew. It wanted us to figure out the answer ourselves, though. Right?”
“The names it called you,” Martin mused. “Harrison, yes. But also Harry and Hal and Henry, as you yourself observed. The Heart isn’t one for pet names, my pet. It knows something about us. Who we are, now.” He nibbled the nail harder. “Maybe, it knows who we were.”
“Were? Do you mean reincarnation?” Harrison didn’t bother to keep the skepticism from his voice or face.
“Reincarnation’s another kind of magic, pet, very basic, very elemental, very fundamental. The Wheel of Fortune turns and turns.” He shrugged. “I think the Heart’s saying we knew each other in another life. Maybe more than one life.”
“He told me he had seen me before,” Harrison said slowly.
“He did, didn’t he? Hmm.” Martin abandoned his nail and released his other hand. “Give me your hands.”
“Your finger’s slobbery.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Martin dried it on the leg of his jeans. “Better? Hands. Now. Palm to palm.”
“What are you going to do?”
“See if the Third Eye will finally let me look into the deep past.”
Such things still sounded insane, but Harrison believed in them and Martin. “Is it dangerous?”
“Only a little. If my brain explodes, there’s a mop in the corner.”
“Very funny. Is there really a chance you could be hurt?”
“Not really. I could get a headache if I try to push the Third Eye past the boundaries it chooses, that’s all. Lighten up, pet. And hush. This takes concentration.” Martin shut his lids as they pressed their hands together; then he bit his lips and frowned.
Harrison later suspected that what happened next had not been Martin’s intention. The Heart had probably meddled again, or it was Harrison’s own new magic. In any case, as Martin’s bi-colored eyes flew open, staring blankly, Harrison found himself sucked into the vortex of blue and brown, and he saw...
Hal -- begging with a guard at the foot of the Tower.
Henry -- stealing a moment in a medieval monastery.
A barker announcing the feats of the great Harry Houdini.
All his dreams. Be damned. They made sense now.
Both men gasped as their contact broke. They jerked away, staring at one another.
“Did you see?” Martin demanded.
Harrison couldn’t lie. “I saw.”
“So that’s why we’re soul-bound in this life. We’ve always been bound. We probably always will be.” Martin glanced aside. “I haven’t died again since being taken from the Tower, where Hal waited for me. I figured he had moved on around the Wheel and found someone else. Several someones. But I dreamed, sometimes, in my sleep, about finding him again.”
Harrison reached out to touch Martin’s cheek. “This night just gets more and more interesting, doesn’t it?”
“You believe me?”
“I have my own reasons. Please don’t ask right now. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.” Harrison felt too dizzy to explain himself. The dreams that had haunted him for so long weren’t dreams, but memories. Glimpses into his past lives.
He understood at last why he’d given in almost as soon as he’d seen Martin. Harrison-the-scholar might not have known Martin from any average Joe, but Harry and Henry and Hal most definitely had.
It all made sense now, and although this was a head-trip of no small proportions, Harrison’s acceptance brought a flooding, calming sense of peace that hushed his whirling thoughts.
“I’m all right,” he said with a smile. “Thank you, Master. It’s good to meet you again.”
“Yes. It is, isn’t it?” Martin gnawed at his lip. “Knowing what I know now, I wonder... Harrison -- not ‘pet’ for this question, just Harrison -- I need to understand. Do you think the magic of our reunion overpowered you? If you believe your acquiescence to our contract was unduly influenced in any way, we have to revisit the terms, blood oath or no blood oath.”
“Huh.” Harrison tented his fingers under his own chin. “Can I have a minute to think?”
When Martin nodded, Harrison pondered. So many different thoughts, all flashing through his mind at once. Stories. Fables. Myths. Wild colors. Yarns unwinding. Balloons soaring free into the sky. Whips and cuffs and feathers and candles.
Who he had been, and who Martin had been to him.
The mistakes he could now remember making.
The gift of being able to choose differently.
“I think,” Harrison began, weighing the words, “I think you’re the man I’ve always loved, and will continue love again and again. I’m still willing to call you my Master, but, no, I’m not a magic-drunken drone. In fact, I have to warn you I’ll probably drive you crazy with questions about magic and subspace and a thousand other things. I suppose it’s a stupid thing to ask, but I will be able to access any library I want to from here, won’t I?”
Martin beamed in obvious relief. “You can have books and research papers literally out the wazoo, pet.”
“One more thing. I think our Master/slave relationship should stay in the bedroom for now. Until I’m ready for more.”
Martin noodled that one over for a few. “Seems fair.” He cut Harrison a wicked look. “Bedroom sounds like a good idea. Want to go and try out this nifty flogger I got from a nyxie? It has little thorns that--”
Harrison tossed his head back and laughed. Martin grinned at him, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Come on,” Harrison said, as Martin pulled him to his feet. “I’m game. Master.” He paused. “You know, you really don’t sound
like a Magician to me, no more than the Heart sounds as old as he is.”
“Things aren’t always what they seem, pet.” Martin leaned in for a short, sweet surprise kiss. “Not even here.”
“Especially not here,” Harrison agreed with deep feeling.
“Amen.” Martin kissed him again. “Let’s go. I owe you a spanking of your own.”
Epilogue
“Hello? Er, hello? Is this whatever-it-is working, Martin?”
“Tuned in and turned on. Go ahead. Ten-four, good buddy.”
“Patronizing ass.” A cough. “Liam? It’s Harrison. Are you there?” Muttered: “Honestly, this is like the arcane equivalent of walkie-talkies. I still don’t see why I need to let Liam know what my plans are. Simon’s the leader of the Brotherhood.”
Hoot of laughter. “So Simon says. Trust me on this one. Liam’s the guy to go to right now, pet.”
Grumble. “Yes, Master.”
Slap. “Behave.”
“Yes, Master.”
Liam raised his head from the desk in his control room, blinking with weariness and wondering if he were dreaming. Had he fallen asleep? He’d only meant to close his eyes for a moment.
Glancing up, he saw the single “live” screen aglow with light. By the Tear, Harrison seemed to be peering through a peephole, his face distorted in the particular way of such viewports.
Harrison tapped on the screen from his end. “Liam?”
Liam rubbed his eyes. They felt dry and scratchy.
“So hard to think,” he muttered aloud. “What has happened? Oh. Oh! Magic.” Smiling broadly in triumph, he spoke to the monitor. If Liam could hear Harrison, Harrison would most certainly be able to pick up what he said. “I am here; this is Liam. Such a pleasant surprise to see you again tonight!”
“Likewise.” The lecturer’s voice had changed. He sounded somewhat less stuffy, more human, his tone laced with a static-electricity tingle of... yes, magic. “I’m not exactly sure how I’m talking to you. Or why, exactly.”
“I believe I know the reason, but you shall tell me in your own words. First, however... I trust you have enjoyed your time at Amour Magique?” Liam teased. Even distorted through the lens, Harrison bore the unmistakable look of a man who’d drunk deep from the waters of love and lust. Lust had the stronger taste to begin with, of course, drawing a man in for a second taste, and thus, if one were fortunate, love soon followed in passion’s wake.
“You could say so. It’s been, er, rather educational.”
Liam stifled a small laugh as he noticed a slim pair of hands fastening a collar around Harrison’s thick neck. Ho, ho, this was worth the trouble he’d gone to in matching Harrison up with Martin, wasn’t it?
“Educational, yes,” Liam repeated, hiding his mirth. “Of that much I am certain. But again, in your own words, in your own time.”
“I swear to God, there are too damn many people giving me orders today.”
“And you’re having the time of your life,” Liam heard the Magician croon.
“Fine, fine. Liam, my, well, Martin, the man I met tonight... I’m staying with him.”
Liam nodded. “I thought you might.”
“At Amour Magique.”
“Yes, yes.”
“Living in the club. Probably working for it, too.”
“I assumed as much.”
“Amour Magique is leaving tomorrow morning.” Harrison’s statements had grown in their bafflement as each had been spoken. “I’m going with the club to the California coast. I have no idea how the place is going to move itself cross-country, but it is, and I’m hitching a ride.”
“Go, with my blessings. Go.”
Once Harrison got going, it seemed the man couldn’t stop himself from spilling the rest of his discoveries in a jumbled torrent of words. “Martin’s a real Magician and so am I, and the club is alive and has a Heart, capital ‘H.’ The Heart talked to me at great length. Then, I found out that Martin and I are reincarnated lovers, and I’ve been dreaming memories about him almost every night. He remembers the me I was, a man named Hal, when he himself first signed on at Amour Magique.”
Harrison huffed, apparently indignant at Liam’s lack of response. “I’ve lived a few lives since he and I parted. I was Harry-fucking-Houdini on the last turn of the Wheel.”
“A delicious irony.”
Harrison sighed, evidently nonplussed. “You’re not in the least bit surprised by any of this, are you?”
“I cannot say I am, no.” Liam tapped the screen fondly. “This is no more than I had hoped for, for you.”
Harrison frowned with abrupt and wary suspicion. “Who are you?”
“Liam, of course.”
“No, no, no. Let me rephrase. What are you? This sounds insane, but you don’t feel human. Even through this whatever it is.”
“I am Liam, and that is all you need to know at the moment. Be on your way with Martin. Eat, drink, make love, and be happy. Enjoy California and all its delectable beach bunnies, not to mention the surf rats, who are far more appealing than their sobriquet.”
“If you say so. Look, I have some things here. Personal effects. Will you ask Simon to put them in storage until I have a forwarding address? He can take care of subletting my house, too. Or selling it. And he can do what he wants with the furniture.”
“I will see that this is done,” Liam replied amiably. “Anything else?”
Harrison fingered his new collar. When he spoke, he sounded a bit like a lost child. “Liam?”
“Yes?”
“Will anyone miss me when I’m gone?”
Liam answered him gently. “Some, yes, but some, no. Such is the way of things. Know this, though. I will miss you. Though you have lost it, and no bad thing, your unbelievably stubborn disbelief endeared you to me as much as it drove me half mad.”
“I hope I understand what you mean by that someday,” Harrison grumbled. “I think that’s it. Is it?”
Liam stroked the monitor, holding back a yawn. “It will do for now. Good-bye, Harrison. Martin, you old scoundrel, take care of him or I will thrash your hide.”
“He’d enjoy it too much, and so would you.”
“True.”
Harrison and Martin waved good-bye, and the connection was severed. His screen went dark.
Cocooned by the utter blackness of his control room, Liam sat quietly for a moment. He had done it. All eleven members of the Brotherhood had faced the impossible and come away with the stuff of true love in their hands. They had changed others and been changed in their turn.
And now it was over. He had finished his good work.
Liam yawned again. He let himself relax in the uncomfortable workstation chair he sat on, leaning back to rest his head.
He spoke softly to himself, then. Old words. Not as old as himself, but still a good vintage. “‘If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumber’d here, while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream. Gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend. And, as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck, now to ’scape the serpent’s tongue, we will make amends ere long; else the Puck a liar call. So, good night unto you all.’”
Liam yawned tremendously, smiling at his own flight of fancy as he quoted from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Oberon and Titania themselves would find the tale of this night amusing, so they would.
“‘Give me your hands, if we be friends,’” he murmured, “‘And Liam shall restore amends.’ It is done.”
Liam didn’t let himself fall asleep. Rather, sleep roared over him in a crashing tidal wave, so that between one breath and another he was dead to the world. Lolling in his chair, head slumped against a shoulder, he rested at last.
“Good. Take it easy while you can. Wish you could grab more than forty winks, kid, I really do. It was a damned good show, every minute of the play.”
Lilith materialized from the corner where she ha
d slipped in, all unseen; she had watched the entire conversation with Harrison and its aftermath with great interest.
“You’re not done yet, though,” she said, walking to where her son slumbered. “Something you didn’t count on goes down any minute now. You’ve got one more tower to climb, child, and it’s gonna be the hardest of them all. Poor guy.” She ruffled Liam’s hair with her long, pointed fingernails.
A sliver of light fell across Lilith’s face as the door to the control room opened. She squinted. “Oh, it’s you. C’mon in, but be quiet, huh?”
“He’s asleep?”
“Yeah.”
“Not dead?”
“Not yet.”
“There’s a chance he will be?”
“There’s a chance anything can happen at any time.” Lilith shrugged, but the corners of her mouth turned down in concern. “I’m trusting you with my boy, capiche? I can’t help him too much more now. I won’t have a lot of power during what happens next.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“You’d better.” Lilith bent to kiss her son’s cheek. “And don’t tell him I stopped by, would you? He doesn’t need to know.”
“I don’t agree with you, but I won’t say anything.”
“Can’t ask for much more. Well, I could ask for utter, total obedience and your very soul, but I’m not in the mood right now.”
Lilith addressed Liam one last time. “You really are one of my favorites, kid. Here’s looking at you. Here’s hoping you make it through the other side.”
The man who had opened the control room door pushed it shut. “I’ll take care of him,” he said firmly. “Trust me.”
Lilith examined him from head to toe. “Okay,” she said at last. “Be seeing you soon either way.”
The man watched her disappear, not in a cloud of smoke, but just simply fading away as if she had never been there. When she was gone, he went to Liam’s side and knelt by his lover, resting his head on Liam’s lean thigh.
Everything else could just go to Hell for the moment. The gathering forces -- the Night Mare, renegade Lilim, even that treacherous little weasel Silas -- they were waiting, but some of them had been standing in line for centuries. They could just keep simmering away on the back burner for all he cared until Liam and he were both damned good and ready to get up and fight their final battle.
