by TJ Nichols
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Will stood.
“I thought you were okay with what was going on.”
Will grimaced. “I’m never going to fit into your life, your world. I don’t have money.”
“It’s not about money.”
“It’s always about money when you don’t have any. You’ve never gone a day wondering if there’ll be food on the table or if there’s enough for bus fare. You paid for the place on Rotto.” Will pushed his hair back and then leaned over the table. “As much as I loved that holiday, it was just that—a holiday. It wasn’t real. This will never be real because I don’t matter to you.”
“That’s not true.” He thought about Will all the time and how it was going to suck when he left. But maybe none of it was real. It was a just break between school and the start of whatever came next, and it had to end.
Will stared at him, daring him to act. People were watching them now. What did Will expect him to do? They were in public, and he didn’t want to get beaten up.
“I should’ve known I was an experiment.” Will drew back, disgust and hurt in his blue eyes. He shoved the chair back and walked away.
Tom sat there, stunned and not quite sure what had happened. He picked up Will’s half-drunk beer and finished it. But Will had dumped him, and half a beer wasn’t going to heal the wound.
Five beers later he got himself onto the train, his stomach churning with booze and fear.
I’m not gay.
I don’t date men.
Just Will.
He closed his eyes as tightly as he could. He wanted Will back, but he’d be gone in weeks. When Tom got to Canberra, it would be different. There’d be no Will.
Chapter 8
TOM GRABBED Will’s hand as the darkness broke over them. For several heartbeats the pressure was so great he didn’t think he’d be able to breathe. It was worse than getting knocked off his surfboard and sucked under. His grip started to slide, and he couldn’t see a damn thing.
He added his other hand so he wouldn’t let go of Will.
“You can’t have him.” Tom’s words had an odd, hollow sound, as though muted. Had he even spoken aloud?
Will’s hand almost slid from his. He was being dragged away by those things, and Tom couldn’t save him. His lungs burned for air, but there wasn’t any. The edges of his vision blurred. Will yelled at him, but Tom couldn’t hear him. If he didn’t breathe, he’d fall unconscious and let go of Will anyway. If he let go, he’d be able to breathe and formulate a plan to get him back.
But he couldn’t make his fingers release.
Will did it for him. His fingers uncurled, and without the two of them holding on, there was nothing to save. The shadows ripped them apart. And Will was gone.
In a blink the room was bright and airy.
Tom collapsed onto the sofa and heaved in great lungfuls of air. Sweat made his shirt cling to his chest.
He was completely alone.
He closed his eyes and tried to recall every word Will had said. It had been enough for his tongue to split and for him to be taken away to face trial. He’d broken the NDA, and Tom knew the penalty.
He glanced around the room looking for out-of-place shadows. Nothing moved, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there, watching and waiting. Would Will come back to watch him until he solved the problem, or was it already too late?
He picked up Will’s wineglass and drained it in a couple of swallows. The wine was dry and tasteless in his mouth. He sat on the sofa for a few more minutes and stared at the now-empty coffee table. All of Will’s careful notes were gone along with his contract. Where did he even start now that Will was gone?
Trust the devil, because he’ll help. That went against everything Tom thought he knew. He’d seen enough movies to believe that asking anything of the devil was going to end in disaster… but asking a favor from the gods was just as bad.
However, if Will thought summoning Satan was the best plan, that’s what he’d do. He didn’t have another plan, and he could feel the clock ticking.
How long until Will was dragged into court? Did the godly wheels of justice turn faster, or was there a backlog like human courts? He needed to get Will back. He wasn’t going to abandon him or let him think that he didn’t care, again.
He’d never stopped caring. He’d never wished Will any ill feelings—he just couldn’t be the man Will wanted or needed, back then, anyway. Now… he’d meant it when he told Will that he needed to stop hiding. He shouldn’t have to hide half his life, and he was going to fix this. He’d prove that he wasn’t ashamed of Will.
There was only one problem—how did he call Lucifer?
Will hadn’t given him any instructions.
Tom peeled himself off the sofa and walked into the kitchen. Everything gleamed white and chrome. Will had expensive taste. Tom ran his hand over the white marble counter—it would be real marble, not a wrap made to look like marble, like at his place. There was a set of fancy knives in a block to the side, and Tom drew the smallest and pricked his finger.
Carefully he drew a five-sided star on the counter. That should do it. The star was lopsided, but surely Lucifer wouldn’t be fussy about geometry. Did he need to say a prayer or some kind of summoning spell? He didn’t know any Latin, and Will hadn’t left the devil’s phone number lying around, which would’ve been far easier.
He wiped his thumb on his jeans, stood up straight, and said as loudly and with as much command as he could, “I summon Lucifer.”
Nothing happened. There was no crack of lightning or flash of magic.
Shit. What did he do now?
“I find having another drink often helps,” a voice said behind him.
Tom spun. An attractive man leaned against the pantry door.
The man picked up the bottle of wine and peered at the label. “Not bad. I don’t suppose William will mind if I have a glass.” He helped himself, opening a cupboard as though he’d been there before and knew where the glasses were kept.
Tom reached for the knife on the counter behind him and closed his fingers over the handle. Was the man actually the devil? Could he be a god? Tom’s brain wanted to turn to static as it overloaded with his new reality, but he focused on the man in front of him and the knife in his hand.
“I wouldn’t do that. You summoned me in a rather dramatic fashion. All you had to do was ask nicely, and I would’ve attended.” The man poured two glasses. “Let’s be civilized. There is much to talk about.”
“You’re Lucifer?”
“If that’s the name you want to use, yes.” Lucifer held out the glass.
He was a tall, thin man in an impeccable dark blue suit. He didn’t look particularly demonic—no horns, no tail. He looked almost ordinary.
“Stop with the compliments. It took me centuries to shake off the horns. And the wings burned up when I jumped ship.” He put the wineglass down next to Tom.
“You’re reading my mind.”
“I’m picking up on your thoughts, which is a very different skill. I do have other places to be. William’s trial will begin in less than an hour, and I’d like to be there. He’s going to need a lawyer.”
“You?”
“What do you think I do?”
Trick people out of their souls… create havoc.
Lucifer smiled. “First rule of propaganda is to always accuse the other side of what you are actually doing.”
“What’s your hourly rate?” Tom doubted he could afford it, but if the devil asked for his soul to save Will, he’d do it.
Lucifer smiled. “This one is on the house.”
“Why?”
“Because I want William to work for me.”
“Does he want that?”
“We’ve talked about it.” He took a drink and studied Tom. “If he doesn’t want to, I can’t compel him to work for me. Everyone has free will. I could’ve made you drop the knife, but I didn’t. You have the choice to stab me, but you haven’t.
I could’ve sent all those knives into your major organs, but I didn’t.” The knife block rattled as though the knives wanted to break free. “We all make choices. You chose to summon me, and you chose to help William. Now that’s interesting.”
“No, it’s not.” Tom released the knife. A paring knife wouldn’t stop the devil from killing him.
“Let me rephrase. William’s employer made sure that you two were kept apart so there was no chance of William getting free. That’s very underhanded, so I stepped in to give William a fair shot.”
“You made us meet?”
“I merely gave you the chance. You didn’t have to take the job over here, but you did. You didn’t have to go to your reunion, but you did. You certainly didn’t have to save William from the posse of pissed-off angels, but you did, in rather dramatic fashion. You do have a rather dramatic flair, don’t you?” Lucifer finished his wine.
“So, you don’t want my soul to save Will?”
“What on Earth would I do with a soul? I have nowhere to keep the ones I get offered on a daily basis.”
“Is Hell full?”
Lucifer laughed. “Hell is my domain, yes?”
Tom nodded.
“Then you’re standing in Hell. I rule the humans. I protect them from the avarice of those who see human lives as a game. Right now, William is going to be turned into a shadow for the rest of his natural life if we don’t step in.”
“You don’t need me.” Will had Lucifer on his side. What good was an ex-soldier?
“Wrong. Every contract with the gods has an out clause, one regret that the human can fix. His regret is you. You need to fight for him.”
“I don’t know how.” This wasn’t his world. He wasn’t a lawyer, and he’d only just come to believe that this stuff was real. His temples throbbed.
“Without you I have no case. If you hadn’t been interested in helping, William wouldn’t have stood a chance of getting out. Now he does, and they know that, and Plutus doesn’t like letting anyone go.” Lucifer held out his arm as though offering to walk Tom down the street. “Shall we?”
Tom almost stepped back, not sure he should be going anywhere with the devil, even though Will had said to trust him. “Shall we what?”
“Go to court, get William out of this mess so he can get on with his life.”
“So he can work for you.”
Lucifer smiled. “Those details can be negotiated later.”
“No. I’m not jumping into this blind. What is it I have to do and what’s the cost? Will I end up with a contract and an NDA?” He didn’t want to make a worse mess, though he wasn’t sure how much worse it could get. Sipping wine with Satan while his… his lover waited to be turned into a shadow—this wasn’t how he’d thought their night in would go down.
The devil tilted his head. “I don’t issue contracts to my staff. The only cost to you is your action to help William. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
Tom drew in a breath. He’d promised Will he’d help, and he meant it. He extended his arm, and the devil hooked his elbow with Tom’s. They stepped forward, and in a stomach-dropping rush, the apartment was gone.
THE CHAINS around his ankles rubbed the skin. William sat on a wooden bench with the other chained contract breakers. There were only three of them, so he wouldn’t have long to wait. That didn’t stop the nerves from fluttering in his stomach and whipping his heart into a frenzy.
He doubted he’d be found innocent when he’d so clearly broken his NDA. But he hadn’t told Tom about his god or about anything that didn’t affect Tom. He was trying to make a case, because he didn’t know who he’d get as a lawyer or how good they’d be. His life was in the fate of an unknown. He’d be called into a room soon to go over his case. After that, it would be into the court.
There were no delays here, no need for them when the gods saw all. The trial was a formality and a last chance to beg for leniency. He’d finally got Tom back, only to lose him again. All he could do was hope Tom had listened and that he understood the regret was his. It wasn’t about kisses or making up or keeping in touch. It was Tom not hiding his relationship. William had thought it was about money back then, but it had been Tom’s fear of being outed that had been the wedge between them. It was still there. Tom had never set himself free.
The woman in front of him was called away. Her chains clanked as she walked.
William rubbed the bridge of his nose. He didn’t have his glasses, so he hoped there was nothing for him to read. The fear that he’d lived with over splitting his tongue had faded now that it was done. There was nothing left for him to do. He tested his tongue, and the two parts moved separately. He wasn’t sure he’d get used to it or if he’d even have that amount of time left. Did shadows have tongues?
His name was called, and a door opened.
With a sigh he stood and shuffled forward. Once again he hadn’t gotten the chance to say goodbye to Tom. The first time he’d stormed off, and the second time, he’d been swept away. His fingers flexed. He shouldn’t have let go.
His death would be faked so his mother would accept the loss without having to be told the truth. Would he be able to go and check on his mother and Tom once he was turned, or would every moment be taken up with spying for Plutus?
Would it hurt?
He worried at his lip, refusing to think of what might have been if he’d kept his mouth shut. If he’d ignored Tom and just done his job, he could’ve become staff and lived for hundreds of years.
The idea held no appeal.
Nothing held any appeal except for his need to be with Tom. He still wanted that second chance.
William stepped into the room and stopped.
Lucifer stood in the middle, hands behind his back. “I’ll be your lawyer.”
“You?” He realized how that sounded as it left his lips. “I’m flattered, but why?” His words were twisted by his tongue.
Would Lucifer’s presence help or hinder him?
Plutus would assume he’d been working with Lucifer all along, and he’d want more than just the base sentence of being turned into a shadow. He’d want revenge for a perceived slight. It was getting messier by the second, and it was all out of his control. His careful battle to keep calm was fraying. He didn’t want to be one of those humans who screamed or cried. He didn’t want Plutus to have any pleasure. But he could feel the desperation bubbling inside of him, needing to break free.
“I believe there has been a gross breach of free will in your contract,” Lucifer said.
“I’m a test case.”
Lucifer tilted his head in agreement. “You could set a precedent.”
“At what cost?”
“Come on, William. You know that’s not how I operate.”
“But you do want something.”
“Everyone wants something… but not everyone is willing to take the chance.”
“You just offer the temptation.” William smiled. What would he be tempted with? He’d already succumbed to more money than he could ever spend.
“I show people how their lives could be.”
“And how could it be? If I agree to let you take the lead on this.”
“You weren’t actually thinking of defending yourself?”
“Well, it depended on how good my defense was and what their plan was.” He’d seen too many lawyers just accept results because there was no out. He’d always wondered why they didn’t argue more, but quite often there was no room to argue. “I broke my NDA. It’s fairly clear-cut.”
“Usually I’d agree, but you named a person as your regret, and it was only him you told.”
William wasn’t the first person to name a person as his regret. And people told their loved ones the truth all the time. Love was usually the thing that brought people down. He was no different, but he wasn’t sure he loved Tom as he once had. And he didn’t know if Tom wanted to give him that chance or if Tom was ready. William didn’t want to be a secret the way he had been
. If Tom was helping him, it was because it was the right thing to do and because they had once been friends. William couldn’t ask for more. He didn’t deserve it.
While Tom had been off fighting and protecting people, William had been damning them and propping up gods who didn’t care who lived and who died. People were nothing but tokens to be hoarded and traded and used to buy favors, and he didn’t want Plutus using him for anything.
The wealth William had accumulated wouldn’t buy him the second chance with Tom that he wanted, but working with Lucifer might. So William offered the devil his hand and accepted his offer. “What’s your plan?”
TOM WAITED alone in a room. There was a weird taste in the air, and Lucifer had left him with the strict instruction to not say a word to anyone or anything. In fact, it was best to stay silent. That was an order Tom was happy to obey. This place—and he didn’t know where he was—gave him the creeps. The hair along his arms was drawn up tight. He could hear things—half-whispered conversations that he couldn’t quite understand, groaning that could’ve been human but sounded far more unearthly. He paced and then made himself sit still.
Cross-legged on the floor, he closed his eyes and tried to be calm.
The voices pressed closer. “Anything you want… just ask.”
Tom clamped his teeth together tighter. He knew what would happen if he spoke. He’d end up in a deal, just like Will. But while Will wanted out, how many people were happy with their trade? What would he ask for if he could have anything?
“Money, power, fame… it could be yours. Just say it.”
He didn’t want money. That had never made his parents happy. They’d paid for his education but then been upset when he hadn’t repaid them by using it the way they wanted—to make them look better and increase their social cachet.
Power? What was that, exactly? He didn’t want people to do his bidding. He’d commanded men, but that hadn’t been for his personal benefit. He didn’t want to be surrounded by people who were only there because he controlled them. And how many people misused their power? A few politicians had probably signed their souls over.
