by Megan Derr
Table of Contents
Title Page
Book Details
Made For You
About the Author
Made
FOR
You
1.1
MEGAN DERR
Charlie is an angel, a being of light given human form and made to protect. But Jed, the man who summoned and created Charlie, isn't any ordinary sorcerer. He's one of the most powerful alive, a decedent of King Solomon, and in possession of the powerful ring Solomon once used to control demons—a ring many would kill to possess.
Six months ago, Jed was kidnapped by men who want his ring, and Charlie is desperately trying to find him, hoping to rescue the master he failed so miserably to protect in the first place…
Made For You
Dance with the Devil 1.1
By Megan Derr
Published by Less Than Three Press LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.
Edited by Samantha M. Derr
Cover designed by Natasha Snow
This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.
Second Edition November 2018
First Edition published in Something Happened on the Way to Heaven anthology February 2013
Copyright © 2018 by Megan Derr
Printed in the United States of America
Digital ISBN 9781684314232
Print ISBN 9781684314348
Made
FOR
You
Charlie pulled the broken glasses from the pocket of his corduroy jacket and carefully unwound the kerchief in which they were wrapped. He stared at the bent frames. One lens was shattered, the other was gone entirely.
He didn't know why he kept looking at them, as though they would somehow magically be fixed. Magic would not fix them until they were returned to their owner, and he first had to find Jed. Despair clawed at him, but Charlie fought it back.
Jed was alive and he was close, Charlie could feel it like cold rain on too hot skin. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, then tucked the glasses away again. The clock on the wall ticked softly, and Charlie sighed, looking around the fancy office where he had been sitting for the past half hour.
It was handsome, classy, but a waiting room was a waiting room. He wondered miserably if Sable Brennus would even see him; he was still tempted to walk out and just find Jed without permission to be in the territory—but if he caused even half the havoc he suspected he would, then it was better to do it with the demon lord's approval (or at least his knowledge).
Charlie reached up to touch the collar around his throat: butter-soft, dark brown leather embossed with runes. The sound of a door opening drew his attention, made him drop his hand and stand up—only to see it was Brennus' secretary again. Disappointed, shoulders slumping, Charlie resumed his seat.
He'd been told that Sable Brennus was good so far as demons went. Charlie had hoped that meant that Brennus would not look down on him, as so many others had, for failing his master. He flinched, fingers twitching with a need to reach again for Jed's glasses, but he refrained. He caught the secretary's sympathetic look and felt dejected all over again. "Should—um—should I just go?" he asked.
"Go? Oh, no, honey. Don't go. Sable will be seeing you shortly. He's downstairs putting out fires—figuratively speaking. If you'd come yesterday, it would have been literally." She rolled her eyes, and then smiled warmly. Charlie was again reminded of how much she looked like someone out of the old movies Jed liked to watch. But given she worked for a demon, and was around abnormals and magic all day, it was entirely possible she was from the 40s or 50s—or even earlier. "You sure I can't get you something to eat or drink? You name it, I can get it, honey."
Charlie shook his head. The only sustenance he craved was the presence of his master, to see Jed healthy and happy again. If his wings were out, they would have fluttered restlessly, but as it was, he could only fist his hands in his lap and try to keep himself together. He was so close, he couldn't fall apart now.
Six months he had been trying to find Jed, six months since that djinn had thrown him so hard Charlie swore sometimes his head and back would never stop aching. Six months since he'd heard Jed screaming his name as he was taken away.
Charlie fisted his hand so tightly his nails bit into his skin.
He heard the door open again and looked up—and then stood up when he saw a tall, broad-shouldered man in an expensive-looking, dark-gray, pinstripe suit with a dark blue tie secured by a sapphire tie pin. Demon radiated from him; he wore his nature as arrogantly as he wore his wealth. His eyes were the color of a stormy summer sky as he glanced at Charlie. "I was told there was an angel waiting for me," Sable Brennus said, and he extended a hand. Startled, Charlie shook it. "A pleasure to meet you, angel."
"Um—Charlie. That's what my master named me."
Sable smiled and rested a hand lightly on Charlie's shoulder, guiding him toward the double doors that proved to lead into an office that was larger than Jed's whole house had been. Fire and smoke filled Charlie's mind, and he hastily pushed the memories away. He focused on the floor to ceiling windows that lined two sides of the office, the magnificent view beyond of cloudy skies painted rose, orange, and violet as afternoon sank steadily into evening, and the glitter of city lights rose to beat back the growing dark.
"Would you like anything to drink, angel?" Sable asked.
Charlie tamped down a flicker of annoyance that no one ever seemed to want to use his name. Jed had assured him many times people used 'angel' more as an honorific, a sign of respect, but he would rather they used the name his master had given him. "No, thank you. It was not my intention to detain you, my lord. I only came to inform you that I would be in your territory, and might make some noise, as my master would say. I—" He swallowed because it was always so painful to speak of Jed; every time he did so, the wounds tore open anew. He had failed when Jed most needed him because he had let the damned jinn get the best of him. "I am searching for my master, who was kidnapped six months ago. I have been on the trail of the kidnappers, but never managed to get close. But I think they are holing up here because the signature stops. So…"
Sable strode over to him and pushed a glass into his hand. Wine, Charlie saw, a rich merlot in a stem-less wine glass. He took a sip of it from habit, not wanting to be rude by refusing it now that it had been given to him. He loved wine; how had Sable known?
He'd sat with Jed at so many tiny motel tables, drinking wine and food obtained from whatever restaurant they had picked that day. The few precious months they'd had in Jed's old home before they'd been forced to go on the run. Italian food had been their favorite, and he would always remember best the night Jed had overindulged in the wine and fallen asleep against him, soft hair falling in his face, snoring quietly, relaxed and warm in Charlie's arms.
It made his eyes sting, made the back of his throat ache, and he drank more wine just to keep from saying something stupid.
"Do whatever you must," Sable said, and Charlie was strangely comforted by the fierce glint in his eyes, like lightning behind black clouds. "Thank you for coming to see me. I do appreciate the courtesy. I know of your master, though I've never met him. I have always heard that he is a good man, and now I know it's true."
Charlie frowned, confused. "But you haven't met him."
Sable smiled. "I am as old as the sky, and have been on the mortal plane for centuries, and never before have I seen an angel so well and lovingly made. Go find your master. Do whatever you must to
get him back. If you require assistance, simply call for me or my consort. His name is Christian. We'll hear you."
"Thank you," Charlie said and finished his wine. He would not ask someone else to save his master; it was his duty. "Your generosity is deeply appreciated."
"Generosity has nothing to do with it," Sable said. "I don't like trouble in my city, and anyone strong enough and stupid enough to kidnap a descendant of Solomon without killing his archangel first is trouble I definitely don't like."
Charlie nodded and sketched him a brief half-bow, then turned neatly on his heel and left. In the elevator, he slumped against the mirrored back wall, allowing himself to finally feel the exhaustion he'd been resisting. He reached up to touch his collar once more, aching to feel Jed's fingers trace the runes, calloused fingers just brushing his skin as he pulled away.
He would give anything—do anything—to see Jed again, hold him tightly, and never fail him again.
The elevator dinged, drawing his attention back to the present, and Charlie slowly left the casino to make his way into the dark depths of the city to find his master and finally kill those who had taken him.
First, however, he needed rest. As if the thought triggered physical response, Charlie yawned. He could not remember the last time he had slept—sometime before he had almost gotten to them in Blue territory. He'd been so close that losing him again had left Charlie in tears. He was closer than ever, though, and would not fail again.
If he had to destroy himself to save his master, he would. Those damned djinn and that bastard sorcerer who had called them. They would learn to fear Jed's angel—and die with that fear still stuck in their throats. He flexed his fingers, restless, and shoved them into the pockets of his coat as he slipped outside into the dark, rainy night.
He walked briskly back to his cheap motel room, covering the six blocks easily, grateful to reach the still and quiet of the room after the bustle of the city and the cacophony of the casino. Sitting down on the edge of the furthest bed, he shrugged out of his jacket and then pulled off his boots. He pulled his legs up and folded them under him, resting his elbows on his knees.
More than anything, he wanted a nap, but if he fell asleep and they managed to slip away again he would never forgive himself. Not that he would forgive himself, anyway. Jed had created him for protection, and Charlie had failed to protect. He just hoped that Jed did not decide to dismiss him when it was finally all over.
Charlie curled his fingers around his collar, seeking the comfort it always offered, terrified of the thought of being banished and never again seeing or smelling or touching Jed. Of losing forever the chance that he might be able to touch Jed the way he had always wanted...
Lying down on the bed, Charlie tucked his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, meaning to rest for only a few minutes before he went off to pick a fight with the djinn holding his master captive.
The smell of incense, pungent and sharp. Beeswax and roses, fresh spring air.
His eyes fluttered, then slowly opened, and he stared into the most beautiful face he had ever seen. The man's warmth and magic, he had felt, sensed, for a very long time. He had touched it, caressed it where he was able, but always the source of it was ultimately out of reach to a being that had no form.
Except... suddenly he did have form. He stared down at himself, the trim body, fair skin hairless except around the ... He looked up again, into that beautiful face, cheeks flushing as he comprehended that he was naked.
"Hello, angel," the beautiful man said softly.
"H-hello," the angel replied and smiled. "It is an honor to finally meet you."
The man looked at him in surprise. "Finally?"
"All can feel your warmth and magic. It's very lovely. I am honored that it was to me you gave a form." He stretched and tested his limbs, pausing when he felt something on his neck that seemed like it should not be there.
Reaching up, he felt the soft leather and the runes embossed in it. He traced each rune that he could reach, putting together what the whole meant. "I am an archangel, made for you."
The man's cheeks turned the loveliest shade of pink. "Made to protect me since I am no longer able to fight my enemies on my own. They've killed nearly every other member of my family, and those who remain are normals of no use to them. I am sorry to summon you for such a selfish purpose—"
"No, it would be an honor to protect you. I am made for you. I will do whatever you want, master."
"My name is Jed. You don't have to call me master."
"Jed," he repeated, tasting it, liking it, but he still preferred, "Yes, master."
Rolling his eyes, a smile tugging at his pretty mouth, Jed said, "You need a name as well."
He brightened, smiled widely, at the idea of that. A name. A name made something real, above and beyond simply being given a form. Something with a name was carved into reality and was rarely taken out of it again. Even should he be dismissed again someday, his name would remain and a piece of him would linger forever. "I would love to be given a name, master. It would be the highest honor."
Jed smiled again, reaching out to lightly trace his collar, then reached up more slowly to stroke his cheek—then he abruptly jerked back, cheeks going from pink to red. "Uh. How about Charles? It was my grandfather's name. He was a good man and the one who bestowed the Ring of Solomon upon me." He held up his left hand, where an innocuous-looking copper ring carved with a six-point star in a circle shone in the light.
The ring radiated a power at complete odds with its humble appearance; if the ring was as powerful as it seemed, then it would take a sorcerer of considerable power to wield it properly. But he already knew his master was incomparable. "Charles," he repeated, and nodded. "I like it, master."
"Good," Jed said softly, and he held out a hand. "You can step out of the spell circle now, Charlie."
"I like that better," Charlie said and took the offered hand. It was warm, rough with callouses, and there was a long, red scratch across the back of it. Without thinking, he lifted Jed's hand to his lips and kissed it softly. "I hope you feel no pain."
Jed's face turned red again, but he did not pull his hand away. "No, I'm fine. Thank you. There, uh—there are clothes there on the sofa for you."
Charlie looked where he indicated, then went over to the sofa, picked up the clothes there and slowly put them on. He looked much like his master in terms of dress, though his jeans were darker and the sweater blue rather than black. The boots took some work, and he flushed when Jed finally came over to help him lace them up.
He stood up once he was done and pushed away the hair that had fallen in his eyes. "Do I look acceptable, master? I would hate to look unfit to be your archangel."
"You're perfect," Jed said softly, pushing at his glasses, cheeks turning pink again as he looked away. "Come, I will tell you all that you need to know. I have been in this location too long. Soon we shall have to leave, and you must be prepared for what is coming after us."
Charlie nodded and followed as his master led him out of the room they were in, smiling in quiet happiness that he had been made real and given such an important purpose.
His eyes snapped open as he felt a powerful presence trying very hard not to be noticed. He sneered at the ceiling, wondering why djinn were so powerful, but so stupid. Sitting up, he slid off the end of the bed and went to stand beside the door.
A couple of minutes later, the door chimed and unlocked. The silver handle turned, and the door slowly pushed open. Charlie slammed his clasped hands down on the back of the djinn's head, sending it falling to the floor. He dragged the djinn into the room, slammed the door shut, and then slapped a spell of locking on it.
Whipping back around, he only just avoided the blow swung at him, bracing against the scorching heat of the djinn's body.
Magic alone kept the djinn from incinerating everything around him. He was, as djinn often were, handsome. Dark skin and dark hair with eyes the color of a blue flame
. "Greetings, angel," he said, and lunged again.
He collided with the shield Charlie had erected, creating a shower of rainbow sparks that singed everything they touched.
Charlie smirked and cocked his head. "Where's my master?"
"Sucking my master's cock," the djinn retorted—then roared in pain as Charlie filled the room with blinding light. The djinn had gotten him once, and he would always bear the scars of that terrible night. But he learned quickly, and in the endless months since they had stolen Jed, he had learned how to deal with the djinn.
Charlie moved easily amidst the blinding light. He held out his hand, fingers splayed, and then slowly closed them around a hilt. As the light faded, he retained a sword of light. In the moment where the djinn still recovered, Charlie drove the sword into its gut, yanked it out, and then did it again. The djinn screamed in agony and fell to the floor. Charlie drove the blade into its throat, and the djinn dissolved into ashes.
He let the sword fade back into nothing and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe sweat from his face.
Stupid djinn.
Glancing at the alarm clock on the bedside table, Charlie saw he'd been asleep only two hours. So much for getting real rest—but he supposed something was better than nothing. He dismissed the need for more rest and focused on his duty. The djinn he'd killed had been powerful, but young. It hadn't been summoned very long ago. Likely, it had been summoned for the sole purpose of stopping him, or at least slowing him down.
Charlie smeared his fingers with the djinn's ashes then began to draw a spell circle with them. He worked slowly, meticulously, painting every rune with the utmost care. Spell work, as his master often said, was a matter of patience more than of skill. Anyone could make a spell circle, but to get it perfect the first time was a trick some witches and sorcerers never mastered.
When the circle was finished, he held his splayed hand, still smeared with ashes, over the spell circle and spoke the activating words. The spell burst to life in flames of flickering blue fire, pulling on the remaining pieces of the djinn's spirit that lingered and forcing from them where it had last been.
