by Lee, A. H.
“Favorite and only. I can’t believe I gave you the wrong money. Here, this should make up for it.” He handed her a book, bound in blue leather. “Oh!” Jessica let out a squeal before she could stop herself. “This is the new one! By the same author as Skyfire.” She started to open it and squealed again. “It’s signed!”
Jessica looked up to see Azrael smiling—a genuine smile with nothing political about it.
“Would you read it to us?” she asked.
That took him off-guard. “Possibly. If there’s time.”
Jessica tucked the book into her bag. Mal had glued himself to Azrael’s hip. “You know you’re heeling like a dog?” grumbled Azrael.
“Yes, well, I don’t want you to get yourself killed before I get you into bed.”
Azrael rolled his eyes. “You need to change shape before somebody sees you. I assume that people around here are not accustomed to giant cats. We’ve been fortunate because it’s the off-season and the inn is practically empty.”
Mal’s body ran like black smoke up into his human form. He was wearing what looked like loose cotton trousers and shirt. He had trouble with shoes. Fortunately his real shoes had survived his previous transformation.
As he went back into the room to get them, Azrael drew a palm-sized perfume bottle from his pocket. Jessica watched with interest. This bottle was shaped like a teardrop made of iridescent blue glass, enameled with peacock feathers and trimmed in gold. The cloth bulb was rich purple, the dense tassel a luxurious teal. Azrael depressed the bulb, and a golden mist blossomed from the bottle.
Jessica was surprised when the fog solidified, not into a human, but into a dragon almost as large as Mal with sleek, golden scales and a smattering of peacock colors around her eyes and along her spine.
The dragon yawned. She spoke to Azrael in a creaky, but cultured voice, “My dear boy, are you well? You look exhausted.”
“I’m fine,” said Azrael. “Lucrecia, Jessica. Jessica, Lucrecia.”
“Jes-sic-ah…” purred the dragon. She made Jessica’s name sound so exotic that for one moment Jessica wondered whether she might be talking to someone else. But Lucrecia was looking right at her, eyes narrowed in concentration. The eyes were dark blue, darker than Jessica’s own, and they matched the peacock colors.
She studied Jessica for a long moment, probably looking at her aura, then gave a toothy smile. “You may call me Lucy,” she said magnanimously. “All my friends do.”
“And even some people who are not your friends,” said Mal behind her. He shut the door to Azrael’s room and made sure it was locked. He glared over Lucy’s head at Azrael. “If I’m not allowed to go to dinner as a panther, surely she can’t go as a dragon.”
“You didn’t tell me she was a dragon!” burst out Jessica.
Mal raised his eyebrows as though to say, Is that noteworthy? I don’t find it noteworthy.
Jessica turned to Azrael. “But…Mal said she’s an earth-born demon! I thought only astral demons had animal shapes.”
“One gets more flexible, my dear, when one has been stuffed into a bottle,” said Lucy.
Azrael nodded. “Lucy is something of an enigma. I don’t understand how she was bound or I would have broken her out by now.”
“Such a sweet boy,” murmured Lucy.
Jessica shook her head. “But…what I really want to know is: could I have another shape?”
Azrael considered. “Possibly.”
“If he stuffs you in a bottle,” said Lucy with a yawn. “Trust me, darling, it’s not worth it.”
“You’re not done becoming a demon yet,” said Mal to Jessica. “You won’t be done for several years. Maybe after that? Although I think it depends on how far-removed your sire was from the astral plane.”
“Right now,” said Azrael to Lucy, “I just need to tell you what’s been going on.”
“Well, I can see part of what’s been going on,” said Lucy with a malevolent look at Mal.
He stuck his tongue out at her. Jessica forced herself not to giggle. He is so jealous.
“I’ve been called to trial by the High Mage Council for dark magic,” said Azrael, “and I think this time I may have to go. It’s the day after the Inaugural Ball in Kotos and not very far from that location, just across the border. I could probably get there using the same gate.”
Lucy absorbed this information without comment. She cut her eyes at Mal. “And that one?”
“I need to take him with me.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” said Mal. “You certainly need better protection than her.”
“You are not coming along to protect me,” said Azrael and now he really did sound weary. “You’re coming so that they can examine you and decide that you’re not a public menace.”
Lucy flicked her tongue like a snake. Her long, slender head swung towards Mal. “And if they decide that you are,” she said sweetly, “they’ll banish you—deliver you gift-wrapped to your entity. There’ll be no coming back from the astral plane after that.”
Chapter 12
Jessica
Mal was looking daggers at Lucy, but Azrael spoke in an even voice. “That will not happen. Mal and I took Bethsaria once, its magicians notwithstanding, and we can take it again. If we do need to flee, we’ll have an untraceable portal at our backs. No, this trial is just a nuisance.” He drew a deep breath. “But Loudain is probably right: this is a more powerful Council than its predecessors. If I ignore them, they’ll feel like they need to discipline me to prove themselves. If I can avoid a fight simply by attending a half-day of nonsense in Bethsaria, I suppose I should.”
He glanced at Jessica. “How many people know your full name, Jessica?”
She was caught off-guard. “Um. Lots? Well, I don’t know how many know my middle name.” Her eyes flicked to Mal. “We—”
“I insisted on going by the public records office when we visited her family,” said Mal. “That’s probably where Wallace got her name. Nobody else will get it that way.”
Jessica bit her lip. She had not liked destroying those records. It felt like erasing herself.
Azrael strolled down the hall with his hands in his pockets, looking thoughtful. “I might have to visit your family at some point, Jessica, make a few tweaks to their memories.”
Jessica was horrified. “You’ll make my family forget my name?”
“Just your middle name.”
“No!”
Azrael looked at her curiously. “Why not?”
Because it’s my family! She stared at him. “You never had a family.” She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Something flashed through Azrael’s eyes and was gone. A familiar coldness settled on his features, and he continued down the hall without looking back. “Well, if you encounter a demon hunter, I’m sure the knowledge that your mother remembers your middle name will be a great consolation.”
“Azrael…” Laurence.
He didn’t answer.
“He’s hungry,” whispered Mal in her ear. “Using magic all day tires him out, too. Not like me, but still. He probably should have drunk some of that ambrosia himself.”
Jessica folded her hand in Mal’s and they walked just behind Azrael, saying nothing.
Lucy trotted down the hall with a flowing, foxlike gait. Just as she caught up, she dissolved into a woman, walking just as fast. She wore a silky white gown and black mink half-cape. Diamonds glittered at her ears. A long string of pearls hung halfway to her waist.
She glanced at Jessica, all smiles. Lucy had the kind of beautiful cheek-bones and hooded eyes that age only accentuates. Her silky white hair darkened to pepper at the ends, caught up in a jeweled comb at the nape of her neck. She could have been anywhere from fifty-five to seventy. The sort of seventy-year-old who goes out dancing, thought Jessica.
Lucy’s transformation apparently came with cosmetics because her lips were ruby red, her eyeliner perfect, with a trace of gold in her eyeshadow. She should have looke
d ridiculously overdressed for a country inn. Instead, she looked glamorous, elegant, and dangerous. Jessica felt an unfamiliar stab of longing. I wish I looked half that amazing.
Mal growled. “Stop it.”
Jessica blinked. “Stop what?”
“I was talking to her.”
Lucy giggled.
To Jessica, Mal said, “She is Avarice.”
“Sorry, sorry,” sang Lucy. “Just showing off a little for your lady. Gods, Mal, I always forget what a jealous tomcat you are.”
“You charm it out of me.” He gave her a beatific smile and purred, “It must be so confusing for you—hating me this much and wanting to take my clothes off. That must be frustrating.”
Lucy’s lip curled. “I do not want to take your clothes off.”
“You do right now,” continued Mal, his green eyes electric, “because two can play this game. Oh, dear, and now you want something very naughty. That’s just disgusting, Lucy.”
Lucy glared at him. “Alley cat.”
“Greedy dragon.”
They were picking at each other with magic. Jessica could feel it now, although it had taken her a moment to recognize Lucy’s magic because it was so different from either Mal’s or Azrael’s. Mal sometimes used the word “taste” to describe magic. Other times, he would talk about the way it smelled. Neither word properly described the sensation, but Jessica understood what he meant.
Lucy’s magic tasted like delicate perfume, like infinite patience, like old money that has nothing to prove. Mal’s magic was not patient. It was spice and hedonistic pleasure, dark chocolate and passion. For an instant, the air was almost unbearably filled with the discordant tastes of their magic. Jessica covered her ears, although it did her no good. She wished she had wards like Azrael.
Lucy staggered suddenly and disengaged. Jessica felt the change in tension like a taut wire snapping, and the magic in the air receded. Mal looked down his nose at Lucy. “You want to go again? Because I can do this all day.”
Lucy tossed her head and straightened her mink cape. “You’re such a blunt instrument, Malcharius. You and your cock—like a battering ram. No finesse.”
“Yeah, well finesse doesn’t seem to win you these little arm-wrestling contests.”
“Enough!” barked Azrael. They’d reached the street and he turned towards town. “Lucy and Mal, not another word to each other.”
Lucy glided forward and took Azrael’s arm. After a moment, Jessica took Mal’s. He wasn’t as tense as he got when he argued with Azrael, but he certainly seemed annoyed. Jessica leaned against him. Lower your hackles.
The street was full of evening activity. Tanisea was pedestrian-friendly, with broad sidewalks and public green spaces. They were far enough from the Shattered Sea for motorized vehicles to work somewhat reliably, and they saw or heard engines from time to time. However, there were plenty of horses and carriages, as well, and people strolling on the sidewalk. Sculptures, fountains, and metal art lined the walk as they got further in to town. Brightly painted murals adorned the buildings. Trees grew everywhere.
Azrael went into the first cheerful-looking pub he encountered. To Jessica, Mal whispered, “A sorcerer, an incubus, and a succubus walked into a bar… We’re the beginning of a bad joke.”
Jessica snickered. “Lust and Avarice walked into a bar…and the owner had his best night ever.”
“Well, that’s probably true.”
Ornamental lanterns were winking in the courtyard. Jessica thought they were powered by magic. Small, non-essential novelty items were the only spell-powered things Jessica had encountered while living in the Provinces. Anyone who wanted to practice or use major spells moved closer to the Shattered Sea. If this gate really is as difficult as Mal says, it’s going to take a lot out of both of them.
They were seated immediately and received a complimentary appetizer moments later. “The chef is feeling generous this evening,” said the waitress.
Lucy smiled and toyed with her pearls. She was overdressed but nobody stared at her. They just shot covert, longing glances. A moment later, somebody at another table sent them a round of free drinks. Their food came and the waitress told them that it was on the house. Jessica watched in wonder.
“Don’t worry, darling,” said Lucy, “they’re making it up in tips. Everyone here is feeling remarkably generous.”
Not to be outdone, Mal made certain that everyone was feeling remarkably frisky as well. The pub had a stage and dance floor, but no music scheduled for that evening. Nevertheless, someone sat down at the piano and struck up a tune. People began to dance. The room became noisier and more convivial. Jessica saw a couple kissing in the corner. The thread of their sexual energy made her feel warm and happy. I suppose we’ve all made ourselves at home.
Azrael had eaten his food and drunk half a glass of wine. Jessica couldn’t remember ever seeing him drink more than that. His color had improved, and he looked like he felt better. He took a deep breath. “Loudain thinks I should start a magic school on the Shrouded Isle.”
Lucy and Mal both looked startled. “Well,” ventured Lucy, “it might be a way to keep troublesome families in check.”
“Sounds like inviting spies home to me,” said Mal.
Jessica watched Azrael. You must have complicated feelings about magic schools. After Polois.
“I can’t imagine that it would be successful,” he continued. “Apparently, a few people on the Council think I might be an aspect of Pride.”
Mal barked a laugh, and Jessica put a hand over her face to stifle a giggle. Even Lucy smiled. The corner of Azrael’s mouth twitched up, and Jessica realized that he was laughing, too.
Mal leaned forward with his chin in one hand. He was still practically glowing from the ambrosia. In the low light, his dark skin looked even darker, his green eyes like gems, his eyelashes so long and thick they might have been mascara. “That would explain so much!”
Azrael looked at him speculatively. “Mostly, they are afraid that you are in control of me.”
Mal gave a dismissive huff. “Well, that’s obvious nonsense. If I were in control, you’d be in my lap right now.”
Lucy sipped her wine. “Blunt instrument.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” snapped Mal.
“Of course you don’t.”
A complimentary dessert arrived—a chocolate soufflé to dream of. Jessica wasn’t sure who to thank, so she thanked Lucy.
Lucy beamed. “You are most welcome, sweet child. I apologize for provoking you earlier. I was really only saying hello.”
Jessica was afraid that Mal would cut in with another taunt. Please give me a chance to make friends with her.
But Mal was watching Azrael, who was watching the dancers. They were engaged in a bastardized version of ball room dancing, common in taverns and country inns all around the Shattered Sea.
Mal cocked his head. “You look almost like you want to dance, Boss.”
Azrael shrugged. “I almost do.”
Jessica was surprised. She’d never seen him dance. Apparently Mal hadn’t, either, because he spoke hesitantly, “You know how?”
Instead of answering him, Azrael glanced at Jessica. “Would it cause trouble?”
“Cause trouble…?”
“Two men dancing; would it cause trouble?”
“Oh!” Jessica patted his hand. “No, the Provinces aren’t like that. There are at least a few same-sex couples at nearly every party we’ve attend around here. No one will look at you twice.”
Azrael relaxed. His eyes returned to Mal with a cool expression. “Then, yes, I would like to dance.”
Mal was already on his feet. If he’d had a tail, it would have been twitching. “I am going to lead. You are going to follow.”
He looked prepared to argue about this, but Azrael only shrugged. “Alright.”
Chapter 13
Mal
Mal did not for a moment believe that Azrael was flirting with him. Well
, not without an agenda. He’s probably going to lecture me about being nice to Lucy.
Mal waited, suspiciously, for some unpleasant conversation or request. They’d gone halfway through the musical number before he realized that Azrael wasn’t missing any of the steps. Mal might as well have been dancing with Jessica. He was so shocked that he burst out, “You’ve done this before!”
Azrael hadn’t been watching Mal’s face. He’d been looking over Mal’s shoulders at the other dancers and Mal realized that he was miles away in some other time and place. His eyes refocused on Mal’s, and he gave a mirthless smile. “There are things you don’t know about me.”
“How?” We’ve been shackled to each other for more than two decades.
Azrael shook his head. “You’re happy I’m dancing with you, right?” He didn’t sound angry or teasing, only a little sad.
“Yes.”
“Then just dance.”
They moved through the rest of the number without speaking. The music tumbled into a crescendo that swelled and swelled. Azrael’s eyes were dark, empty pools that drank the light, his mouth, for once, relaxed.
He had one hand on Mal’s shoulder and the other resting in Mal’s hand. Mal was suddenly acutely conscious of this. Azrael’s hand reminded him of a bird—a skittish bird that might fly away at any moment. Their skin did not touch anywhere else. Mal had his right hand on Azrael’s hip, though, and he thought how easy it would be to move his fingers under the fabric of the waistcoat, untuck the shirt just the tiniest bit, and press his thumb against sensitive skin.
What would he do? Probably stop dancing with me. Mal kept his hands where they were.
The song ended, and everyone milled around for a moment. Mal wondered if this strange interlude was over, but then the music started again—a different song, but the same type of dancing. Azrael took his hand, and away they went.
A little of the life had come back into Azrael’s eyes. He smiled when Mal spun him rather aggressively, brought them back together with enough momentum to make them bump into each other. “Do you fling Jessica around like this?”
“Only when I want her in my arms.” Let’s see how far you’ll let me push. He didn’t try to get under Azrael’s clothes, though. Instead, he slid his hand from Azrael’s hip to the small of his back and pulled their bodies together.
