by Megan Derr
Bannick nodded, smiling faintly at the way Ezell had slipped into using the plural. Seven days was the limit on possession. For the first seven days, a demon could be exorcised from its host without harm to either party. After seven days, they fused, and exorcising most often killed the host. When applying to summon a demon, the number of days the demon would be summoned for was a requirement on the paperwork. If anyone tried to summon a demon for longer than seven days and did not have good cause, a priest was dispatched to investigate the matter more closely.
"So how does the necromancy come into this?" Bannick asked.
"It was a necromancer who found us after three days," Ezell replied. "There was so much snow, even more than what kept us in Hallow. It was so cold. After we had sufficiently recovered, we told him everything that had happened. He took care of us, took us back to the city, helped us while we told our story to authorities, and took us to his home again when it seemed we had nowhere to go. The idea of returning to school left us ill, and we could not face family possessed by a demon just then…"
He fell silent then finished, "His name was Burr. He took us in, and I learned necromancy because it seemed to be the only thing that fit anymore. And—and he wasn't you, but we were close, and I cared deeply for him—"
Bannick smiled. "I'm glad someone was there for you, Ez. No one should face so much shit alone. I'm glad the situation didn't break you, like it's broken others."
Ezell nodded then smiled. "That's my story, Father. Let's hear yours."
"Shucks," Bannick replied, making Ezell laugh just as it had the first time Bannick had said it. They had both just been informed they were stranded and likely would be for some time. Bannick hadn't cared much, not really. Young and proud and eager for attention, he'd been eying the pretty little city slick beside him for several minutes already. Ezell had been more or less ignoring him, but all it had taken was one Shucks, and Ezell had laughed, and Bannick had drawn him in.
Or been drawn, maybe. All of the one, he supposed.
"Arrived too late to save a town," Bannick said. "Kind of like here, we knew the situation was bad, but didn't realize until too late how bad it was. I was along because my mentor, a man named Lansing, knew I was aiming for black collar, and he thought the experience would be good for me. But when we arrived, the entire town was already dead. A level seven demon had been summoned by a mage who should not have tried. Isn't that always how it goes? Anyway, we did our damndest to capture it and kill it, but it was a demon with no love for humans. Having killed hundreds of people, he was overflowing with power. Lansing called in a blood priest right after we arrived, and the two of them managed to partially trap the demon, but it had wounded them both badly, and they died of their wounds before they could finish.
"I didn't have enough power to finish the wards that they'd started; I was still just a blue collar then," Bannick said quietly. "I took the blood priest's flask and hoped like hell it wouldn't kill me or worse. It took, and I managed to finish the wards and send the demon straight back to hell. I woke up later in Crown City, and after recuperating for a week, I started training specifically for red collar."
Ezell nodded, face full of sympathy but not pity. "Blood priests never have it easy, do they? It suits you, though, for whatever that's worth. You're damned good with those guns, too."
Bannick laughed. "Hell, city slick. Ain't a man alive in the west who can't shoot straight. Them that shoot crooked don't live to talk about it. Shooting's the easy part."
Ezell laughed with him, eyes warm and fond as he looked at Bannick. "Now how am I supposed to walk away from you a second time, Ban?"
"I don't right know," Bannick replied. "It was hard enough the first time." He reached out and stroked Ezell's cheek, pleased when Ezell stood and moved to sit right next to him, no manner of personal space between them at all.
He really hated they were hip-deep in work, and would be for hours, with no sign of being able to spend any private time together soon. By the time that chance came up, they'd likely be ordered in separate directions, and he really did not know what he would do then. While Ezell was a memory, he had learned to live with the fact he would only ever be a memory, and move on. Now that Ezell was here and real—Bannick could not reduce him to memory a second time.
"So what do you do when you're not helping the Crown?" Bannick asked.
"Helping the Crown is what I do," Ezell said wryly. "All I’m really missing is a collar." He reached up and lightly tugged at Bannick's. "I think the clergy would suffer an apoplexy if they ever felt compelled to give collars to necromancy."
"I think they'd just be stuck on picking out a color," Bannick said with a snort. "They're plum out of them. Otherwise—" He broke off as the demon gave an agonized scream, sending chills down his spine, making him jump reflexively to his feet and draw his guns before he had even thought about it.
A firm hand fell lightly on his chest, Ezell just barely brushing up against him, tacitly urging him to relax. Bannick forced himself to do so, smoothly holstering his guns and flexing his hands. "I guess he's almost finished now, if that don't mean it's getting free."
"Yes," Ezell replied, hand slowly falling away from Bannick's chest, eyes heavy with yellow. "The death throes do not make for pleasant listening. He is literally being torn apart rune by rune, piece by piece. But deep inside, whatever sanity might remain in his heart is glad to be dying. Humans like to say there is no fate worse than death…" The yellow eyes flared bright. "Any dire, if it could muster sanity, would tell you that's not true."
"I know," Bannick said quietly. "There's lots worse than death." He looked at the stable again as another horrible scream rent the air. "I hope it's over soon."
"Soon," Ezell replied and strode closer to the stable, studying his marks, seeming not really to hear the screams himself, though surely the screams must be especially awful to another demon.
"How old are you?" Bannick asked, suddenly curious.
Ezell turned to look at him, laughing. "Old enough I know that humans and demons are not so different when all is said and done. But I am still young enough that the Angels call me Childe." Bannick laughed—Childe was a term for a young demon, the equivalent of a teenager.
They both turned as the dire demon gave a scream more terrible than all the others combined. It cut off abruptly, and only then did Bannick realize how much weight had been in the air now that it was lifted.
He jumped back as the stable suddenly burst into flame, throwing up an arm to ward off the sparks and embers that came toward them on the wind. Pulling out his book, he flipped it open to the proper page, then held up his hand, palm out, fingers spread. He recited a prayer to cage the fire, keep it contained, so that it would not catch the house and surrounding brush on fire.
By the time it was done burning, and they had put out the lingering embers, dusk had fallen. "It's definitely gone," Ezell said after a brief but thorough inspection. "Nothing is left. Purify it and then we had best go double check that cave."
Nodding, Bannick turned to a different section in his book, then deliberated between two prayers—the most commonly used Prayer of Purification and a slightly stronger variation. Finally, he settled on the stronger, deciding the extra energy he would use was worth it. Decision made, he turned his hand so that it was held out as though in supplication. Then he began to speak, voice taking on a sing-song quality as he cleared away the negative residue left by the dire demon and the heavy black magic used in its destruction.
When he finished, they put out the fire, returned the supplies to the house, then saddled up and rode up to the cave. It took them another hour to find it, purify it, and get back to town in the dark. Once they reached town, they spent another three hours purifying the Sheriff's office, settling the townspeople, telegramming the Temple, and wolfing down dinner before finally collapsing in their beds.
*~*~*
Bannick sighed as they climbed down from the train, relieved and not to be back home in Crown
City.
Relieved, because Crown City really was home now. There was nothing like its hustle and bustle, the thousands of different lives taking place, the way they were all too busy to care about what anyone else was up to. Anything and everything was to be found in Crown City, and she was a beauty to look upon.
The Pantheon was at the heart of the city, the cluster of buildings that housed the ruling figures, as well as the headquarters for all the main branches of government, including the Temple of the Priests, though officially it was the Temple of the Order of the Goddess. Stretching out from the Pantheon were the various districts of the city—business, residential, rich, poor, parks, factory, shopping, medical, and countless more. There were flowers and trees everywhere; it was impossible to tell that barley seventy five years ago, it had all been a scorched, blood-soaked battlefield.
But as much as he loved being home, he hated it at the moment, because being home meant that his time with Ezell could be counted in hours. He fervently hoped they could find a way to keep in touch, if not stay together. Surely that was possible now. He supposed they'd figure it out tomorrow, after they'd reported to Father Gabriel. Really, he preferred not to think about it and drive himself crazy.
"So where is home for you?" Ezell asked. "I cannot believe that you and I have both lived in Crown this entire time and never crossed paths."
Bannick snorted. "That's probably because neither of us is ever here long enough for paths to cross. I live in the Cherub district. I board at a house on Rue Willow; my landlady is a dragon. I'd love to move out, but that requires being home for more than a day at a time."
Ezell laughed. "My parents moved to the country about six years ago. They gave me the townhouse, figuring I had more use for it than my brother or sister. I've got a nice couple that take care of it for me, Rosy and her husband Jimmy. Would you like to come stay the night with me?"
His meaning could not have been plainer, and Bannick smiled a slow, hot smile in reply. "Now, I'll just assume that question is rhetorical, Ez."
Matching his smile, Ezell settled his hat on his head and slung his saddlebags over one shoulder, then led the way out of the enormous Citadel Train Station, the primary station in Crown City. Out in the street, Ezell caught up one of the many runner boys flitting about and gave him a coin. "Run to house 113 on Rue St. George. Tell them that Master Ezell will be home in half an hour with a guest, and food and baths would be greatly appreciated."
Taking the coin, the boy tugged politely on the brim of his cap then bolted off, hollering to two other boys, all three vanishing around the corner at the end of the street.
"Shall we then?" Ezell said and flagged down one of the open public carriages so common this time of year when it was simply too hot to endure a closed carriage if not strictly necessary. Bannick climbed in and settled on the seat opposite Ezell, removing his hat and scrubbing a hand through his sweat-damp curls. Settling his hat again, he said, "I'm looking forward to that bath something fierce."
Ezell scratched at his own rough, unshaven face. "It will be nice," he agreed. "I hate not being able to shave."
"Well, now, I wouldn't say it's a bad thing you can't," Bannick said with a smile, looking him thoroughly up and down. "Not bad at all."
"I think you wear rough better, gunslinger. I still like a bit of city polish when opportunity permits."
Bannick laughed, and they slid into a comfortable silence as the hackney slowly fought through city congestion. Almost forty minutes later, they finally pulled up in front of an elegant blue and white townhouse, complete with a wrought iron fence and red rose bushes. Bannick shook his head. "City slicks."
Ezell laughed then hopped down neatly and flipped the driver a silver coin. "Come on, gunslinger. Bath and food."
Inside, the house was shaded, cool, and smelled of roses and roasting meat. Bannick's stomach rumbled, but he was still more interested in getting clean. A woman came through a doorway at the back of the hall, wiping her hands on her apron. She was younger than Bannick had expected—couldn't have been much older than he was, really.
"Rosy," Ezell greeted. "Thanks for making dinner and drawing the baths. Sorry for the short notice."
Rosy scoffed, her eyes on Bannick. "Ye might've told me we had fancy company coming, Master Ez. Father, welcome to our humble home."
"It's beautiful," Bannick replied. "And that dinner smells marvelous. Thank you for having me, ma'am."
"My pleasure," Rosy said, flushing. "Shall I get a room ready for you, Father?"
Ezell shook his head and replied, "That won't be necessary. How's Jimmy?"
"Well. Sent him down to the pub for some beer. Go get clean, then, Master Ez. The water's drawn, call if you need me to heat it. Supper should be ready in an hour. Father." She nodded politely to Bannick then vanished back into the kitchen.
"Stop charming my housekeeper," Ezell said, grinning over his shoulder as he headed up the stairs.
Bannick laughed then removed his hat and hung it on a hook by the door before following Ezell upstairs. Ezell led him halfway down the upstairs hall, then into a room that proved to be a washing room. It was handsome, the sort of thing he didn't see except in fancy houses like this.
Ezell's was a bit different, though, in that it had two bath tubs set up in the middle of the room. "Nice, city slick."
Shrugging, Ezell replied, "My mother was really fond of her washing room. My father had the idea of two tubs—there were so many of us in this house growing up."
Bannick knelt and examined the runes on the side of the porcelain tub nearest him, smiling. "And a much easier way to heat the water." Laying his hand over the marks, he spoke the activation. Once his water began to steam, he moved and did the same to Ezell's tub.
"Thanks," Ezell said. "Normally, Rosy does it for me. She must have assumed that being a priest, you'd be able to do it fine."
Nodding, Bannick stood and began to pull off his clothes, carefully setting his guns out of the way first before shucking all the rest, piling it in a tidy heap. "Should have sent for clothes at my house first."
"We can send someone later," Ezell replied. "I'm sure there's stuff here you can wear in the meantime. My eldest brother is about your size, and he's always leaving clothes here when he's in the city and stays a few days."
"Is that the one who was going to be a doctor?" Bannick asked.
Ezell laughed. "You remember. Yeah, that's him. But he gave up the respectable life to become an actor. He's doing very well, from what I hear. Never have gotten to see one of his plays." He laughed again. "Let me tell you how pleased my parents were to hear their darling eldest had given up the respectable life of a doctor to take up acting. After that shock, they were not terribly impressed to hear I had become demon fused. I think sometimes they regard it as a step up from a mere academic professor."
Bannick laughed with him, but it turned into a groan as he finally slid into the hot water. "That feels good."
Ezell made soft noses of agreement as he slid into his own tub. After that, they spent the next hour washing, scrubbing, and shaving, interspersing it with light, easy conversation. Sometimes, for brief little snatches, it was almost hard to believe they'd not seen each other for nearly fourteen years.
As Bannick felt more human, however, he became increasingly aware they were alone, naked, and did not have anywhere to be 'til morning. He glanced at Ezell, unable not to, and their eyes met—and just like that, they were out of the tubs, clinging and kissing and touching as if their lives depended on it, wet and hot from their baths, smelling of soap and rapidly increasing lust.
"Bed," Ezell gasped out and tore away with effort, dragging Bannick out of the washing room through a second door, leading into what was obviously the master suite. It seemed like a handsome room, but Bannick was really only interested in the bed.
He pushed Ezell down onto it then climbed on top of him, bending down to take a kiss that gave no quarter. Ezell kissed him back with equal heat, nails digging into
Bannick's shoulders as he tugged Bannick closer, spreading his legs for Bannick to settle between them.
"You're still the finest addiction I ever met," Bannick rumbled, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across every bit of Ezell's skin he could reach. Ezell groaned and dug a hand into Bannick's curls, yanking him up for another hungry, bruising kiss.
"Never stopped missing you," Ezell said.
Bannick nibbled at his jaw, his throat. "Same. But we're here now, and we'll figure something out, 'cause I ain't walking away from you again. Right now, though, all I want to figure out is where you keep your oil." Laughing, Ezell pushed him up, off, then rolled over and fumbled in the table by the bed.
Unable to resist the temptation so sweetly offered, Bannick bent and nipped hard at Ezell's ass, chuckling as Ezell yelped and jerked around—and then Bannick was faced with Ezell's cock, and he wasn't resisting that temptation, either. He licked, lapped, teasing until a sure hand sank into his hair again and a voice growled, "Suck."
Bannick looked up, meeting fractured eyes, and smirked. Then he bent his head and took Ezell's cock in his mouth, sucking hard.
Ezell groaned his name, the demon growl slipping way for the moment. Bannick wondered briefly what it would be like with the demon elements fully in control, but he figured he would know the answer sooner or later. But for the moment, he could only focus on Ezell, on sucking, on drawing out needy pleas, hungry groans, and desperate moans.
When Ezell finally came, it was with a barely muffled shout. Bannick swallowed him down, pulling slowly off Ezell's cock once he'd stilled. Crawling up Ezell's body, Bannick kissed him deeply.
