by A. H. Lee
Mal broke off kissing at last and moved a hand from behind Lucy’s back to look at it. His skin shone like warm caramel in the firelight. It had pores, tiny hairs, it looked like skin, not smoke! Lucy made a little noise of satisfaction. Mal let out a long breath. His eyes skipped over the fire—burning not just orange, but blue and green with sea salt. The blue-gray waves seemed a little louder. Even the mist overhead looked brighter, with shades of pearl and blue-black. “The world has colors again,” he breathed.
Lucy’s warm tongue met his throat, making him exhale sharply. Her teeth nibbled his skin—sharper than human teeth ought to be. Mal shut his eyes and swallowed. As he drew away from the edge of disintegration, his more basic instincts were asserting themselves. He was uncomfortably aware of his cock, rigid against his leg.
“Lucy, what do you want me to do? You can give me magic this way. Obviously. We don’t have to do anything else. But it would help me know how to respond if you’d tell me what you want.”
Lucy backed off a fraction. “Gods, Mal, that almost sounded like good and considerate communication.”
He gave a shaky grin. “I communicate really well…in certain situations.”
Lucy’s dark blue eyes were practically glowing. “Stop right here, hmm? Do you want to?”
“Of course I don’t want to!”
“It does sound anticlimactic.”
Mal’s arousal and curiosity flared. Maybe she does want more. Mal leaned close to her ear. “Can I put my hands where I want, Lucy?”
“Try it, and we’ll find out.”
Mal laughed. “I can’t decide whether that’s an invitation or a threat.”
Lucy laughed with him. “You want me to stop cloaking, don’t you?”
“Desperately.”
“Too bad.”
“Lucy!”
Mal trailed a knuckle over her face, past the edge of her jaw, along the pulse of her throat, over her collarbone, across the soft fabric of her sweater, over a breast. He paused to circle the nipple with a thumb. She was wearing a brassiere, but the material wasn’t thick.
Mal kept his eyes on Lucy’s, and she stared back, her expression unreadable. She swallowed at last as he ran his thumb in circles. Mal drew a delicate line along the edge of her brassiere above the sweater. “Can you get rid of this?”
“That would make me feel like I’m wearing pajamas,” said Lucy, her voice a little huskier than before.
“I am wearing my pajamas,” Mal pointed out.
“Fair.”
He ran his knuckles down her stomach, past the edge of the sweater. He paused here, watching her face, and then pushed his hand up under the sweater against her bare skin. He felt her breathing speed up a fraction, saw her pupils dilate. Mal moved his hand back up, and when he reached her breast, it was bare. He cupped the curve of warm flesh, ran his thumb back and forth over the nipple, feeling it harden.
Lucy’s ribcage was very definitely rising and falling faster against his chest. She was blinking. Mal finally kissed her, and she made a low noise into his mouth. Her tongue slid against his, one of her hands tangling in his hair. Mal ran kisses from her mouth down the side of her throat. “You are so pretty, Lucy.”
“We’ve established that I’m an old lady,” she said and then caught her breath as Mal cupped her other breast.
“And I’m older than stars. And you’re really pretty.”
She also felt fragile. Mal knew that was deceptive. Lucy was a dragon, and she could still eat him. But her relaxed skin made her bones feel like delicate sculpture under warm satin. Mal ran his fingers down her bare spine, feeling the ridges and shifting muscles. He wanted to run his hands over her hips, but he didn’t dare.
Mal had fed mostly on younger people during his life on the Shrouded Isle. This wasn’t because he had any preference. He could feed on people of any age who had clear sexual desires. Unlike a human man, he had no instinct that guided him towards women in their childbearing years. However, the Shrouded Isle took mostly young courtiers because Azrael thought this was least disruptive. By the time a person was in their early twenties, their sexual preferences were clear enough for Mal to feed easily. However, their lives hadn’t really started yet. Azrael took volunteers who were unmarried and had no dependents. Political guests were usually older, but Mal rarely fed directly on them. He had experienced a few liaisons with older people during his months abroad, but no one remotely like Lucy.
“You’re a fine one to talk about pretty,” she said. “Those eyelashes are ridiculous.” Her tone was affectionate, her fingers light on his face. Mal turned his head to catch one finger in his mouth. He grasped it gently in his teeth, rubbed his tongue over the tip. He kissed his way between her fingers, exploring the sensitive skin.
He looked up at her through his lashes, and Lucy’s eyes flashed gold. Mal let go of her finger to say, “How do you do that? I can’t do that!”
Lucy didn’t answer. She pushed against him. Mal realized that he had been leaning into her with the vague notion of laying her down on her back and covering her with kisses. There was an awkward moment as they both tried to reposition, lost their balance, and collapsed sideways onto the sand.
Mal barked a laugh. “We’re both tops, aren’t we? Has that always been the problem?”
“Did you just figure that out?”
“This is your show, Lucy-Lu. You’re saving my life. You do whatever you want.”
“Well, then, I want to get rid of your pajamas.”
Mal did that. Lucy pushed him onto his back and climbed on top. She straddled his belly, just a little higher than Mal would have liked, and made her sweater disappear in a shower of golden dust that briefly covered them and then vanished. She was still wearing her full, dark blue skirt. It felt like wool. But if she’d been wearing any underwear, she’d already gotten rid of it. Mal could feel her soft wetness pressing against his stomach.
“Lucy, Lucy…” He reached up to stroke her breasts. “Can I kiss you here?”
“Gods, yes.”
Lucy started to lean over him. Mal reached down to her hips and dragged her up his body. He sat up, cradling her, and caught a nipple in his mouth. Mal felt intensely satisfied by her groan of pleasure, the way her legs clenched around his torso, her hands in his hair. He was frankly amazed at her self-control. In spite of the fact that he couldn’t see her desires, Mal was well-acquainted with the effects of his own feeding. He’d taken quite a bit of magic from Lucy. How is she not flat on her back underneath me?
Mal lavished kisses on her breasts, enjoying every gasp and squirm. It would have been easier if he’d just flipped her over in the sand, but if that made her feel too helpless, well…he could work with this.
Mal slid a hand under her ass to pull her up higher and more tightly against his him. Lucy responded by wrapping her legs more snugly around his body. Mal pulled his hand back and ran it slowly up her bare leg. When Lucy didn’t protest, he moved it all the way to her bare ass under her dress.
Mal took a moment to savor that situation and then pressed his hand further underneath. She was so wet. And she wasn’t saying no. Mal slid two fingers into her slippery warmth, and her muscles fluttered around him. You are right on the edge.
He raised his head from her breasts, and they were nose-to-nose. Lucy had a flush of pink across her cheek bones. Her lips looked too-kissed. Mal moved his fingers, and her eyes snapped shut. Her lips parted. The muscles of her belly and thighs tensed.
Mal kissed her on the nose, and she opened her eyes again. “Lucy, you’re really good at cloaking…but I’m an incubus…and you’ve given me a lot of magic.”
Mal moved his fingers, searching for the sweet spot. Lucy’s pelvic muscles fluttered again. Her eyes narrowed to slits. Her breathing accelerated through her parted lips. “That comes with a few unavoidable side effects,” continued Mal. He found the right spot, the right angle, and rubbed hard.
Lucy made a guttural noise, her hands fisting in his hair. Mal c
ould sense her holding herself back by force of will. “Gods, Lucy, anyone else would be begging me for it by now. Please just let me get you off—”
Lucy pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him savagely. Her pussy clamped so hard around Mal’s fingers that he made a noise of surprise against her mouth.
Mal kissed her until she relaxed. When she pulled away, he said, “Can I get you naked yet? Have I earned that?”
Lucy let out a long sigh. She sat up, still straddling Mal’s lap, and he lay back in the sand. Lucy made her skirt disappear with a rustle of gold. She sat there looking down at him. Mal ran his hands along her legs and sides, enjoying the feel of her hip bones. He brushed a thumb through the silver and steel curls between her legs.
Lucy was letting herself look at him, too. Mal could feel her eyes tracing the contours of his arms and chest. “Can you believe we’re doing this?” she whispered.
Mal grinned. “We’re dreaming. Sort of.”
“You have never figured in my dreams quite this way before.”
That felt like an invitation to squabble, but Mal ignored it. “You came back from the astral plane. I don’t know anyone else who’s done that. Ren and Jessica have no idea what it’s like. I wish I’d known. I could have talked to you about it.”
Lucy’s expression softened. “You still can.”
“If we survive.”
“We’ll survive.” Lucy’s lips twisted up at the edges. “You were speaking of self-control…” She backed down his body until her ass brushed his erection.
Mal swallowed convulsively. “You don’t have to do anything about that if you don’t want to.”
Lucy looked at him narrowly. “You are not what I expected in bed, Mal.”
“Too slow?”
“No.” She traced the muscles of his belly in a way that made his balls tighten. “A sweetheart.”
Mal felt strangely warm. He started to say something and then Lucy grinned. “So I am going to torture you a bit more.”
“How’s that?”
She sat up straight, bumping his cock again. “I’m going to teach you to cloak.”
Chapter 35
Azrael
Azrael opened his eyes. He was sitting on the sand. His focus was around his neck. He clutched at it frantically, drew on his own magic to reassure himself.
He was not reassured. His magic felt strange—oily, contaminated. Azrael jerked his hand away. “Tod!” He thrust his hands into the pockets of the cape, hoping Tod had really followed all of his instructions.
But none of it will do any good if he couldn’t follow me. “Tod!”
The wolf slunk out of the mist. He looked at Azrael cautiously from a few paces away.
Azrael shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s alright. I’m… I remember telling you to do that.” Azrael grimaced as the details of the scene in the bedroom returned to him. He remembered exactly what he’d thought and said. Weirdly, he also remembered standing on this beach and telling Tod to do it.
Azrael stifled his mounting impatience to get this situation under control. He crouched down to look at the wolf levelly. “Thank you. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“I’m a werewolf,” said Tod in a voice that sounded far from wolfish. “I’m hard to hurt.”
I don’t think that’s actually true. “Tod, please come here.”
He came hesitantly. He’s not that big. A strange thought, since the wolf stood to his waist. Azrael had a vague idea that he’d seen a bigger animal, though, recently. A bigger tame animal? Lucy? It seemed like something else.
Tod did not meet his eyes. “Sir, I am well aware of what you could do to me. And I know spitting out my inhibitor broke your rules…”
Azrael put a hand on the wolf’s shoulder. “When you came to the Shrouded Isle, you were only seven. But you were so solemn, so well-behaved. You didn’t need another parent. You had two perfectly good ones and a clan of other relatives besides. That’s just as well, because I would have made a terrible parent.”
The wolf gave a cough that sounded like a laugh.
“What I said just now in the bedroom…” Azrael wanted to say, I would never do any of those things to you. But, obviously, under the right circumstances, he would. Tod was no fool. The Azrael he’d just wrestled to the ground and drugged was under a delusion, but he wasn’t actually another person. “I’m afraid you’ve just seen me at my worst.”
Tod raised his eyes to meet Azrael’s. He gave the ghost of a smile. “Fortunately, sir, I have also seen you at your best.”
Azrael tried to smile back. “I will make sure those things don’t happen to you. I’ll tell you how to kill me if necessary.”
“Oh, sir.” Tod put his head on Azrael’s shoulder in a doggy hug. “It won’t come to that. You’ll figure this out.”
Azrael took a deep breath. “Your grandfather is arriving with the early group. I think I’m going to kill him if I’m not restored to my senses.”
Tod flinched. “I wondered about that.” He pulled away. “But you’ll figure it out before then. Trust me, as soon as you remember Mal, you’ll be ready to rip the world apart to set this right.”
“I feel ready to rip the world apart as it is!” Azrael stood up. “Let’s go find your friend.”
Chapter 36
Mal
Mal groaned. “I’ve tried to learn before, Lucy. I know I’m supposed to hold onto emotions that are the opposite of my nature. I can sort of do it for a few seconds, but it doesn’t last. I don’t understand how you manage to do it for hours.”
Lucy shook her head. “The textbooks don’t describe this well. Nobody really wants demons to cloak. Magicians don’t want demons who are even better at deception, and demons aren’t often anxious to help each other.”
Mal grimaced.
“I can’t tell you if my way is the best,” continued Lucy. “It’s just what I learned through trial and error. Here’s the secret: cloaking is like striking a bell. Once struck, the vibrations continue for a while. You don’t have to ring the bell constantly. You just have to renew it now and then.”
Mal leaned up on his elbows, keenly interested. “So what’s the bell?”
“That’s what you have to figure out for yourself. It’s usually an idea that sparks an emotion that runs cross-grain to your essential nature. You have to be a little bit human to cloak.”
And you think I am. Mal remembered something she’d said to him at a wedding in the Provinces weeks ago. “Are we Love and Generosity, Lucy?”
She tried to repress a smile. “Well, I certainly feel that I’m being quite generous, although you won’t think so in a moment. Learning to cloak is like finding the perfect musical note to shatter a piece of glass. You can’t really find it or test it without something in your own nature to push against. It’s a quality in opposition, you see?”
Mal frowned. “Not really.”
“I had to learn in jewelry stores,” said Lucy. “Beautiful places, swimming in avarice. You, on the other hand…” She lifted her body a little, backed up over Mal’s softening cock, and settled down with her warm crotch on top of his length, pressing against his lower belly.
Instantly, Mal’s flagging arousal soared. He let out his breath in a hiss. Lucy ran her body up and down his shaft a few times, getting him wet. Mal settled his hands on her hips, resisting the urge to slide her onto his cock like a delightful glove. Lucy paused, the head of his dick pressed against her entrance, and looked at him…then through him, at his aura.
Mal looked back at her, breathing fast.
“Well, you’re certainly radiating lust,” said Lucy. “You say you love Azrael and Jessica. Show me.”
Chapter 37
Jessica
Jessica stood by the circus wall for what felt like a long time, waiting for the wolf to return. She liked the wolf. His scent reminded her of safety and warmth and contentment. And, of course, he had rescued her from the terrifying man in the cellar.
Jessica was a
patient creature, but she did not like the rolling mist beyond the wall. It reminded her of being lost in a breathless void, helplessly drifting without sight or sound or smells. Jessica remained by the wall for as long as she could tolerate it, but after a while, her proximity to the formless emptiness became unbearable. So she made her way back to the circus gates and went inside.
She wandered for a while, careful to avoid the lane with the cellar. At last, she came upon a large, echoing building with a hole in the roof. The place was dim inside, but Jessica didn’t find it frightening. There was a platform and rows of velvet-padded seats, now decaying. Jessica had a vague memory of sitting in seats like this before. Something had happened on the platform, something exciting. There had been noises and lights and other people.
Jessica hopped up onto one of the seats. She was a patient creature. She would wait. Maybe something would happen.
Jessica might have sat there forever, patiently watching the empty platform, but at last she heard a noise in the back of the room and turned to see the wolf trotting up the aisle. Someone else walked behind him. “Jessica!” exclaimed the wolf. “Gods below, I wish you had stayed by the wall!”
He reached her seat, and she licked his muzzle. He sighed and looked up at the other person, who’d stopped beside her chair. This person smelled a little like the frightening man in the cellar. But, underneath, Jessica caught a tantalizing hint of something else. She leaned forward, sniffing. He was like a creature who had rolled in filth, but underneath, he smelled like… “Home.”
Jessica snapped her jaws shut in surprise. She had not known she could do that. She looked desperately from the wolf to the new man. “Home?”
The man and the wolf were talking. Jessica couldn’t follow what they said. She hopped up on the arm of the chair to get closer to the man’s fascinating scent. He turned towards her and put both hands gently on her body. Jessica’s world went white.
