Made For You

by Megan Derr

Fear chilled his veins, to think that the bastards chasing them had resorted to summoning a demon. Surely they had not been that stupid—especially as they were in demon territory. Sable Brennus would not take lightly to the presence of another demon in his domain.

  Smoke poured into the room in earnest, and Charlie shook off his momentary fears, gathered his magic, and filled the room with shimmering rainbow light.

  "Charlie?" Jed asked then inhaled sharply. "Damn it, I knew we held still for too long. Hang on." He climbed out of bed and, as Charlie's light began to fade, rapidly drew a spell circle. "Come, Charlie."

  Obeying immediately, Charlie joined him in the spell circle. Jed held on to him tightly and spoke the final words of the spell. With a faint tugging sensation and a burst of blue light, they vanished.

  They reappeared on the street and stared in momentary dismay at the hotel burning down right before their eyes.

  "Angel... " A soft, sibilant voice said. Charlie whipped around, summoning his sword and throwing a new protection around Jed, just as the figure who'd spoken came slinking out of the shadows across the street. "They did not lie. The powers of Solomon overcome even demon workings. But then again, Solomon did command hundreds of demons..."

  "Yes," Jed said. "Leave us in peace, or I will show you how."

  Charlie froze, surprised. He had forgotten that. How could he have forgotten that? But then again, he hated the ring. Every bit of misery in their lives could be laid at the feet of Solomon's damn ring.

  But Jed's heart would break if he lost the ring; it was a family legacy, bestowed to them out of trust, out of faith. Charlie would not betray that faith.

  The demon laughed, sneered. "No watered-down descendant of Solomon can ensnare me. Do you think they summoned a child? No, you will not take me, descendant of Solomon."

  Charlie was sick of the talking. With a roar, he lunged at the demon, light arcing as he swung his sword. He snarled in frustration when the demon countered easily, their powers clashing in a shower of black and gold sparks.

  Before Charlie could regroup and strike again, the demon moved—fast, nearly too fast to follow, and definitely too fast to counter the hit. It landed hard, broke Charlie's nose, and sent him falling back on his ass. Shimmering red-gold blood poured down his face and across his shirt. Charlie snarled and got his feet under him, and then sprang forward as the demon came at him again.

  They collided full tilt, the power of the demon like acid against his skin. Charlie screamed, but ignored the white-hot pain and simply countered with his own power until the demon finally threw him off. He laid on the ground, panting and bleeding, dizzy with pain.

  The demon's cold laughter made him shudder, and he forced himself up, getting as far as his elbows and knees before the pain simply made it impossible to continue. He saw Jed, who looked angry and miserable, and found the strength to stand.

  He stumbled, turned, and gathered his power. "You will not have my master, demon."

  "Oh, I'll have him, angel. Over and over and over again." The demon touched his tongue to his lip then smirked. "Shall we go round three?"

  "Enough!" Jed shouted, and he held out the hand bearing the ring. Then he began to speak in a language Charlie did not know—the language of Solomon, the language of days long past.

  The demon paled. Charlie didn't wait for Jed to finish the spell. Summoning all of his remaining strength, he surged toward the demon and drove his sword through its stomach. The demon dropped to the ground, and Charlie slit his throat to be sure he was dead. When the demon was gone, driven back to the hell by the loss of the body to which it was bound, Charlie summoned a last shred—

  "I'll do it," Jed said softly, covering Charlie's outstretched hand with his own. Charlie relaxed, stepped back—and sank to his knees, too exhausted to stand, while he listened to Jed's smooth, deep voice recite an incantation for burning.

  He looked up when gentle hands touched his face and stared up into the sad, watery eyes of his master. "Oh, Charlie. I can't—you shouldn't—I never meant for you to suffer this way."

  Charlie tried to smile, but it hurt. He did not bother to try speaking. He simply covered the hands cupping his face with his own, squeezed lightly, and curled into Jed as he was pulled close.

  Gentle magic washed over him, smelling and tasting of his master. Charlie tried to stay awake, stay alert, but the warmth and the recent battle were too much to fight and once more he felt himself slip away into the mercies of oblivion.

  When he woke again, he did not recognize the fancy-looking ceiling painted in ornate swirls with lamps shaped and set to blend into the design. He sat up in a bed that was big enough for ten, the sheets dark blue silk with a warm, down duvet and a satin cover in a myriad of shades of swirling blue and silver.

  He looked around the room, stunned by the opulence of the furniture, the floor to ceiling windows, the lavish breakfast set on the kitchen bar. Where were they that it had its own kitchen?

  There were powerful wards on the place—some of them were Jed's, but the rest had the flavor of demon magic. Familiar demon magic: Sable Brennus.

  Realizing they must be in one of Sable's casinos, or at least some building that belonged to Sable, Charlie relaxed. He slid out of the bed and padded over to the windows, gawking at the city below.

  They'd been on the street; he'd been broken, battered, and exhausted. Jed had been crying again. Charlie wished he could give Jed something, anything that would make him happy and banish the tears forever.

  Where was Jed? Charlie frowned, suddenly anxious, but even as he started to panic he saw Jed's clothes in a pile at the foot of the bed. So he must be around somewhere—and, of course, Jed had placed his own wards around the room.

  Rolling his eyes at himself, he went into the bathroom to use the mirror. His nose looked as though it had never been broken, though it was still a bit tender when he touched it. There was a faint scar on one cheek, and he felt sore all over, but Jed, or someone else, had healed the majority of the damage.

  Going back out to the main room, Charlie approached the kitchen bar and helped himself to buttery croissants and slices of apple and pineapple. He licked crumbs and juice from his fingers before washing them at the sink. Then he poured a cup of coffee from a tall, black thermos pitcher and wandered back over to the windows.

  How long he stood there admiring the view, he wasn't sure, but the sound of the door opening finally drew him away. Jed stood there, staring at him, before he all but flew across the room to him. Charlie barely was able to set his coffee cup aside before he caught Jed up. "Master ... "

  "Charlie," Jed said softly, breathing the words against his skin.

  "I'm fine, Master," Charlie said, frowning in concern at the way Jed was trembling. To distract him, Charlie asked, "How did we wind up here? Where are we, besides in the domain of Sable Brennus?"

  Jed laughed every so faintly. "Your fights tend to be very dramatic, Charlie. And the presence of an uninvited demon ... " he smiled. "You also appear to have made quite the impression on Sable Brennus. He says you are the finest angel he has ever seen."

  Charlie smiled. "He said that I was well and lovingly made, Master."

  "You are most lovingly made," Jed said tightly, and he rested his forehead against Charlie's chest, his trembling returning. "I'm not sure I can take seeing you almost die in front of me again. I did not summon you just to see you battered and abused over and over again. I never should have—I'm so sorry—you deserve more—"

  "NO!" Charlie burst out, sudden real fear cutting through him. He drew back, reluctantly leaving the warmth of Jed's arms, and dropped to his knees. Holding fast to Jed's hands, he said, "Master, please. Do not send me away, do not send me back to exist as practically nothing."

  Tears fell from Jed's dark, weary, sad eyes. "But an angel is a gift, and I have done naught, but see you hurt time and again, Charlie." His fingers caressed Charlie's cheek. "I don't deserve you."

  "You summoned me, you gave me form, you
hold all of me," Charlie said, capturing his hand again, pressing it to the collar around his throat. "I am yours, willingly come from the light and bound to the form you made for me. I am yours and want only that: To protect, serve, and love you. Please, Master, if I am allowed one boon, it would be that you not dismiss me."

  "Charlie ... "

  "Please, Master, I beg—"

  "No!" Jed cut in, voice shaky. "Don't beg. You, above everyone else in the world, should never have to beg. I'd be dead without you, Charlie. Worse, I'd be alive, but as good as dead. Don't—don't beg."

  Charlie smiled then kissed the backs of Jed's hands. "All I want is you, Master. You gathered my light and gave it form, and so I shine for you."

  "You say the most ridiculous things," Jed said and tugged him to his feet.

  "But you like them," Charlie said.

  "But I like them," Jed agreed softly and cupped his face. To Charlie's astonishment, Jed then drew him down and kissed him softly. Charlie whimpered, hardly daring to believe it, but Jed really was awake and aware and not just free from recent danger.

  He drew Jed closer, held him tightly, and took the kiss deeper. Jed tasted like coffee and magic, and the way he moved into and with every touch that glided across his skin sent a hot thrill jolting through Charlie. He drew back just enough to lick those addictive lips and nuzzle against his cheek. "Master ... "

  Jed shivered in his arms and whispered his name like it was a fragile thing. "Charlie."

  It was all the invitation—permission—that Charlie required. Hot with anticipation and satisfaction, he took another hungry kiss, then tore away long enough to drag Jed over to the bed.

  He stripped off their clothes as quickly as he could manage, then swept Jed up and deposited him on the bed. Climbing on top of him, Charlie swooped in to steal another kiss as Jed's arms twined around him, pulling him closer, their legs sliding and tangling together.

  Charlie must be dreaming. He was going to wake up at any moment, alone and exhausted in a grungy motel room, still aching to find the master he had lost.

  Tearing away from Jed's mouth, Charlie just held him close. "Am I awake, Master?"

  "You had better be," Jed said with a laugh that held only a faint tremble in it. "I'm going to be displeased if this is all your dream."

  Charlie laughed with him and drew back again, nipping Jed's jaw, his nose, before sliding his mouth back over Jed's and taking his mouth in a slow, burning kiss.

  Jed's fingers slid along his collar, and when Charlie drew back, Jed reached up to press soft kisses to his skin just below the collar. "My angel," Jed whispered, warm breaths giving Charlie goosebumps.

  "Yours," he agreed and began to drop kisses at random points across Jed's body, determined to cover every last inch of it. Eventually his explorations ended at Jed's cock, which was hard and wet. The soft, whimpering noises Jed made were the sweetest sounds Charlie had ever heard.

  His master was safe. His master was finally admitting to what he wanted. What they needed. Charlie closed his mouth around Jed's cock and began to suck, slowly working his way down the length of it as far as he could manage.

  "I don't—" Jed broke off with a groan, hips moving, pushing his cock deeper. The fingers of one hand sank into Charlie's hair as the others tangled in the sheets. He tried to speak again, the words falling out between pants and gasps for more. "I don't remember including that sort of talent in your creation spell, angel."

  Charlie just sucked harder, taking Jed as deep as he possibly could, tongue and throat working, his jaw aching, eyes watering by the time Jed finally succumbed and came down his throat with a ragged cry. Charlie swallowed it all down, licked remaining traces from his cock, and then wiped his own chin. He crawled back up Jed's body, rubbing his own cock along all that smooth, warm skin.

  Jed's mouth latched onto his throat, just above the collar, sucking up a mark as he wrapped hot, calloused fingers around Charlie's cock and began to stroke. "Master," Charlie moaned, moving into that knowing, talented hand, angling his head to grant him better access, happy to be lost in the thrall of his master.

  He muffled his shout in Jed's mouth, shuddering in his arms until at last, the orgasm eased. "I do not think I have managed to leave bed for more than a few minutes since regaining you, master."

  "I hope that's not a complaint," Jed said with a grin as he began to lick Charlie's come from his fingers. Like his blood, it held a faint, gold shimmer. Unlike the vampire who had suffered drinking Charlie's blood, Jed showed no ill effects.

  Charlie flopped back on the bed, dragging Jed to lay half on top of him, nuzzling against him, and breathing in his scent, happy to laze about and doze as Jed fell into slumber.

  The sound of something tapping on glass drew his attention some time later, and Charlie resentfully dug himself out of the warm nest of blankets and Jed. His gaze was immediately drawn to movement—and a figure standing outside his window on some magic-made platform, slowly breaking through the wards.

  Not just anyone, but the bastard responsible for the nightmare of the past three years, the bastard who had kept Jed from him for the past six months. Elmore, a powerful sorcerer and head of a group—a cult, so far as Charlie could tell—determined to take the Ring of Solomon and put normals in their place.

  Charlie had killed many of them while protecting his master and later trying to find him, but he had not seen their bastard leader since the night Elmore got the better of him, nearly killed him, and stole Jed.

  "I won't fail a second time," he said. Outside the window, Elmore continued to work diligently away, a cold smile on his face as he briefly met Charlie's gaze.

  Striding up to the window, Charlie loosed his magic and drove his fist through it. The glass shattered, and he grabbed Elmore by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him inside the room.

  "Hello again, angel," Elmore greeted—and slammed his hand over Charlie's face, speaking the words of a spell.

  Charlie screamed as agonizing pain tore through him, as something crawled and clawed through him, scraped at his innards, and seemed to try to tear him apart from the inside out. It went for his mind, oozed over it, stung it with burning barbs—

  His screams filled the room, spilled out into the night, and his own world reduced to that unbelievable pain.

  Then it stopped, leaving him panting. Charlie fell to his knees, doubled over, barely catching himself in time to avoid smashing his face into the floor. His body was soaked in sweat. It dripped from his hair and down his face, plastered his clothes to his body. He stared up at Elmore, exhausted and drained, body still shuddering, wracked with memories of the recent pain. He licked dry lips, tried to clear his raw throat, and asked, "What did you do to me?"

  Elmore scowled at him. "Stand up."

  "No," Charlie said.

  "Obey me, angel!" Elmore snarled. "Obey me and stand up!"

  Charlie sneered at him. "I do not obey any, but my master."

  "I am your master now!"

  Jed's laughter drew their attention as he walked toward them, slipping from the shadows of the bed and into the light closer to the windows. "Nobody steals my angel."

  Is that what the bastard had tried to do? Steal him from his master? Charlie's world went white hot. He barely remembered moving, remembered only a handful of actions and sensations. There was the surge of power and fury and the rush of his wings and the weight of his blade in his hand.

  There was Elmore's fear, in the breath before Charlie took his life.

  Then he felt Jed's arms wrap around him from behind, and the white hot rage cooled, faded. Charlie shuddered, all of his strength going out of him. He sank to his knees, covering his face with his hands. "Master—what did I do?"

  "You're an archangel," Jed said softly. "You've never managed to tap the full breadth of that power because you're gentle at heart. But I made you to be the strongest of angels, and so the power was always there."

  "He tried to take me away from you," Charlie said. "I lost you
once, but you were still my master. I won't tolerate any master but you."

  Jed let him go, and Charlie almost whimpered at the loss, but then Jed moved to kneel in front of him, drew Charlie back into his arms, and rested Charlie's head on his shoulder. "No one else will ever have you, angel. I made you, and even if I'm a terrible master—" He broke off, swallowed. "I don't care. You're my angel, mine alone. I made you for me."

  "Yes, master," Charlie said, slowly unfurling. He lightly touched Jed's cheek, letting his fingers curl into his soft hair as Jed leaned forward. "Made by you, made for you, for all eternity."

  FIN

  About the Author

  Megan is a long time resident of queer fiction, and keeps herself busy reading, writing, and publishing it. She is often accused of fluff and nonsense. When she's not involved in writing, she likes to cook, harass her wife and cats, or watch movies. She loves to hear from readers, and can be found all over the internet.

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