by Parker Foye
Kjell peeled a cold beer from the plastic noose and handed it to Rez. He looked into the living room like he could see through the walls. “Why is the sacrifice here? I can smell his mark. He was a willing offering. He was suicidal and walked into the water with intent. Why have you not brought him to the grotto?”
Rez took a deep drink of the beer, then indicated the little ones. “Tell them to give us some space. Our discussion is private.”
He gestured toward the distance and nickered in the back of his throat. It was not a kelpie sound or word. He’d formed the friendship with the rescued minis and was the only one who could speak fluently with them. They understood and trotted off to graze on salty island grasses.
Kjell was in his human form, which Rez had only seen half a dozen times over the years. He was a wilding. The struggle between the equine and human parts of the kelpie, the water world and dry land, those were major rifts within their band.
As a human, Kjell was taller. He was a stallion Rez preferred to avoid fighting if possible, though Rez saw a time coming when Kjell would challenge him for the band, even though he despised leading.
He was fast and agile, a thoroughbred, whereas Rez was more like a draft horse—powerful, but not a racer. Two females refused arranged matings to Kjell—not because he was unattractive, but because they feared his temper.
Once, drunk and exhausted after a kelpie mission, Kjell had said he frightened the mares off because he’d wanted Rez for his mate. The next day, the stallion claimed to have forgotten his words. They’d scarcely spoken since.
Rez respected the gruff kelpie. At one point, he might have considered bonding with Kjell, though he would have been a temperamental suitor. It wouldn’t have worked long-term, though. There would be no offspring from two of the five kelpie stallions, and their fight for dominance might never end.
“He’s not our sacrifice,” Rez said.
“The hell he’s not.” Kjell moved toward the front door, toward Benjamin.
Rez intercepted him. “It’s a mistake. He’s my buddy from the Navy. He tried to save my life. He did save my life—but he didn’t know it until today.”
Kjell grunted. “The mark is placed. You initiated the spell; I bound the magic. If you don’t complete the sacrifice and bring him before the band, he will die regardless.”
Kjell pushed past Rez, striding to the bedroom. Rez followed, prepared to protect the sleeping human.
Benjamin had an arm thrown over his eyes as if to block out light he could no longer see. The sheets and comforter were tangled between his legs and around his hips. The bedding framed him, rather than covering him.
“Don’t look at him.” Rez realized it was the stupidest thing he could’ve said.
“There’s nothing you can do to stop me. I am the warden. I vouchsafe that his mark is visible upon the rise of his shoulder above his heart. The magic is indelible.”
* * *
Benjamin felt he’d slept the day away, but he couldn’t tell for sure. There were quiet voices in the room. They were rough, and Benjamin couldn’t quite understand the words. If it was English, it was an old, old version spoken from the gut rather than the throat.
He froze, not sure he wanted them to know he’d woken. His hand had twitched toward the blankets before he realized he didn’t want attention. The movement probably gave him away, but he couldn’t tell. They talked for a while. Occasionally Benjamin heard a familiar word. “Mark.” “Band.” “Necessary.” “Now.” “Pretty?”
That last one was not Rez’s voice, and Benjamin desperately wanted to know who else was in the room. Realizing his naked state, he pulled the covers up and rolled toward the sound of their voices. No sense in feigning sleep any longer. “What’s going on, Rez?”
Their conversation stopped abruptly. When focused, Benjamin smelled another body. Cinnamon, a bit like Rez, but not quite. Leather and the faintest horse sweat. A weird smell association, since Benjamin hadn’t been around horses since he was a kid. That smell was an honest and memorable one, though. This newcomer must be the person who was riding the horse on the beach. “Rez?”
After a pause, Rez settled his weight on the edge of the mattress. He rested his hand near Benjamin’s leg, but not touching. Benjamin felt the depression his hand made. “My friend Kjell is here.”
The other voice sounded an acknowledgment without any actual words. Benjamin imagined if he’d been able to see Kjell, he probably gave one of those “guy nods,” where there’s just the quick upward jerk of chin, perhaps with a bit of raised eyebrow. It was the physical equivalent of “what’s up?”
Benjamin missed seeing physical cues. Hell, he missed seeing.
“Were you in the military too, Kjell?” The name sounded strange in Benjamin’s mouth.
“I am a warrior, but I have not aligned myself with a particular country as Rez did.”
A warrior? What the hell did that mean if he wasn’t part of the US military? “Mercenary?”
“No.”
Rez leaned in a little. “Kjell is more into cyber warfare these days. It’s probably best not to push him. He won’t answer any more questions. In fact, he’s leaving.”
“I’m not leaving without the sacrifice,” Kjell said. This time, the words were all in English.
“What. The. Fuck?”
“Don’t worry about it, Benjamin. Kjell is going, and we’ll talk. Give me a minute to see him out.”
The mattress rose when Rez stood. The men’s footsteps were nearly soundless as they left the condo, but they were whispering, and Benjamin didn’t like secrets. Secrets were just a different flavor of blindness.
* * *
In the darkness of the condo porch, Kjell said, “I see why you want to keep him. As I said, he is pretty. He looks like he would be a worthy mate and a lover requiring conquest every time. A challenge.”
He pulled a pack of clove cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one. He offered the cigarette to Rez, and lit another when Rez took it. Cloves were catnip for kelpies, a scent and flavor that made them drunk and irrational.
Whenever he encountered something clove-scented, Rez wanted to roll around in it. Using his custom-made shampoo for kelpies on Benjamin earlier had been a terrible idea. Because if Rez got too near Benjamin while he smelled of clove shampoo, he might not be able to remain sensible.
“You know our position now. Benjamin’s my friend, and I owe him a debt of honor. I’m not trying to take him as a lover.” Only a small lie? “He doesn’t find males attractive.” Truth.
“Yet he seeks your protection and guidance. Perhaps he hasn’t thought of you as a lover yet, but he will. You need to pick someone soon, or the females will riot. I would still choose you over a kelpie mare.” Kjell clasped Rez’s shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. “Do you think he is listening to us?”
“He’s probably asleep again. He was exhausted.”
“No, he’s awake.” Kjell still gripped Rez’s shoulder. “How’s his hearing? His sense of smell?”
“I don’t think he’s had a chance to learn to rely on them. What are you getting at?”
“You need someone who can take care of your needs, instead of caring for someone who can do nothing for you.” Kjell’s voice was loud enough to carry down the hall. Purposefully.
“Wha—?” Then Kjell was on Rez, catching his arm and slamming him back against the door. He snorted, a strange equine declaration, his mouth on the nape of Rez’s neck.
Motherfucker. Kjell bit him. Not some love bite, but the kind that fucking hurt and drew blood. He pulled Rez’s head back and claimed his mouth.
The taste of blood was strong. It was close to the solstice, the time for the sacrifice, and the kelpies would ache for blood. Kjell was hot and hungry, and Rez knew that Benjamin would never consent to the kind of sex that kelpi
es had, nay, needed.
Like with any other equine species, often mating was a battle. The stallion held a recalcitrant mare down with his teeth. The bite was something that, in males or females, was like flicking on a switch. He wanted Kjell. He wanted Benjamin, though he’d not been sure before.
Would the blood haze be violent or sexual? Rez fisted Kjell’s long hair, and their teeth clashed.
Rez bit at his mouth, licked to soothe the wounds, then bit again.
“Yes...” Kjell whispered. “Mark me as your own.”
“No, that’s not—that’s not what this is about,” Rez said. Fuck, what had it been about?
Kjell laughed, dark and menacing, and pulled away. “Well, now your boy has an idea what to expect with you. You hear that, human boy? Rez likes men and he likes to fight when he fucks.”
Rez rushed back inside and slammed the door. In the bedroom, Benjamin’s eyes turned toward the door, but he wasn’t seeing. His nostrils flared, and he looked puzzled, but not repulsed. Maybe a little flushed? Aroused?
Rez was beyond aroused, thinking of Benjamin beneath him with his teeth at Benjamin’s neck. His friend, needing comfort and healing, might need more? Benjamin would be sweet, if only he were amenable to such things. Rez wouldn’t bite him. He could be gentle, maybe.
Benjamin wasn’t made for such rough sport. He wasn’t made for Rez.
Chapter Five
There wasn’t any point in pretending to sleep. Kjell and Rez weren’t quiet.
Nope. Benjamin had never thought of Rez in a sexual way before the shower. Rez once said his family was very old-fashioned. Arranged marriages were the norm, and he’d already refused a couple of potential wives. He’d refused the betrothals, but never mentioned that he might be into guys.
Of course, in the military that wouldn’t go over well.
Benjamin listened to the sounds of bodies hitting walls, hitting flesh, the sounds of unclear but angry voices, the sounds of kissing. Good lord, were they going to have sex right there? Where he could listen and try to imagine it? Just because he couldn’t see didn’t mean that he wanted to hang out close enough to hear while they got busy. Voyeurism wasn’t his thing, especially without vision.
Plus, the temperature of the room had ratcheted up about a hundred degrees, and Benjamin started to sweat. The sounds from the two men were enough to rev him up. Never before today had Benjamin been aroused by a man. He didn’t understand his feelings. Rez was his friend, his best friend. Yeah, Benjamin was closer to him than anyone else, but not physically. Not so far.
He’d grieved hard for Rez when the hospital staff said he’d died, and that his body had never surfaced. Benjamin was still getting used to the idea that somehow Rez survived.
Maybe that was what got Benjamin keyed up? He rolled away from the sounds of their coupling to rearrange the covers and put a pillow over his head. If Benjamin wasn’t getting laid, no sense in hearing other people fucking just down the hall. His cock wanted to know, to hear, but he didn’t. Mostly.
Dark laughter rippled through the room. “You hear that, boy? Rez likes men and he likes to fight when he fucks.”
Benjamin couldn’t help it, he turned back toward the door, seeking an explanation, some reason. Was that a demonstration of some kind? Why? To scare him? To repulse him? To entice him? Benjamin pulled the pillow back over his face.
Rez likes men. Rez is gay. Maybe he’s bi. “What the hell, Rez? If I’m crippling your love life, you can drop me back at the hospital. Or you can drop me back at the beach. Honestly, either one works for me.”
Benjamin threw the pillow in Rez’s general direction, or where he last thought Rez was. Fucker.
If Rez didn’t shout at Benjamin or something, he thought he might start crying. Again. That had to be a record, at least if he excluded the first few days after he witnessed Rez’s death.
The only saving grace was that between Rez dying and Benjamin getting fucked up, he’d been able to protect some of the men and women in their unit. That was the most important thing.
Damn. Benjamin’s thoughts shifted from place to place without any sense. “You can say something, Rez.”
After a moment, Benjamin heard Rez hiss out a deep breath and walk over toward the bed. He didn’t sit on the bed but on the floor beside it, leaning back just inches from Benjamin.
How did Benjamin know? Apparently, he was getting better at sensing people.
Plus, Benjamin knew his friend. Since Rez hadn’t stormed out, he would have this conversation facing away from Benjamin.
* * *
“I hoped we would have a little space and adjust to each other again before I told you all these things, Benjamin.” Where to start? What would he believe?
Rez leaned against the mattress, with the warmth of Benjamin behind him. He had to turn his face to see Benjamin curled up on the bed. Not seeing him made them even. Maybe. For the moment.
“Go back,” Benjamin said. “You told me something about kelpies, but you didn’t explain what that had to do with anything.”
“Right.” Rez could smell the clove shampoo. The intoxicating spice plus the blood made his skin itch. “Have you heard the legend of the kelpies?”
“No.”
“The tales of kelpies were told to keep children away from the water, morality tales about trespass and trusting strangers. A horse of incredible beauty would emerge from the water, or from an area near the water. Remember in those days, horses weren’t just pets or companions. They were status, transportation, help in the fields. A good horse could elevate a family’s fortunes, so the mysterious horse was a powerful lure. Usually, they were white but not always. In some stories, they have coats that always drip water. In others, their manes and tails are seaweed or their hooves are turned the opposite direction compared to land horses.
“The point was that the horse was supposed to lure the unsuspecting person onto his back or into the water. If the children, or men, or women touched the skin of the kelpie, their hands sank into the creature like tar. They could pull and struggle, but would end up bound tighter to the kelpie, which would gallop into the sea and drown them.”
“That’s fucking grim.” The bed shifted under Benjamin’s weight as he moved closer to listen.
Oh, that was torture. Rez began to heat up but tried to remind himself that Benjamin was his best friend.
“Well, for children the sea can be treacherous. Strangers may have ill intentions. These stories were meant to scare children and to teach a lesson. Most of these folktales have some basis in fact. Kelpies exist. So do a number of other ‘supernatural’ creatures, but forget about those for now. I am a kelpie stallion. One of only five remaining. There are, in total, perhaps twenty-two kelpies left in the world, most a part of my band, with a few in rogue herds. We patrol the shores.
“Unlike the fairy tales, we do not drown children. In fact, we disperse to coastlines and lakes around the world, and most of the time our role is to guard humans. We save many from sharks or drowning. But we are bound by old blood magic. Twice a year, before the end of the night of the solstice, we require a sacrifice of blood and flesh. It keeps the pact of protection from crumbling and slakes hunger in us that perhaps once justified those cautionary tales.
“It’s possible that the ancient kelpies did prey on people, and maybe settling for one death every six months is worth it for the protection we provide daily. It’s impossible to say.”
Benjamin rolled onto his belly, so close his breath raised the hairs on the back of Rez’s neck. “You don’t smell like a horse.”
“What?”
“I don’t have a lot of experience with horses. When I was a kid, I got kicked by one, and until now, I assumed they all hated me. But you don’t smell like a horse.” Benjamin sniffed Rez’s hair. “I don’t know how to believe this.�
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“You know me,” Rez said. “You trusted me with your life in the past. And I’m not supposed to smell like a horse. I’m a kelpie. Different thing entirely.”
“So, I’m going to pretend for a moment that I’m not completely freaked out about this, Rez. You were the horse on the beach?”
“Yes.”
“There was no rider?”
“No, it was just me.”
“Why were you there?”
Rez coughed. “I came to see you, but I didn’t recognize you on the beach. You were supposed to be in the hospital. We can navigate the waters of the world easily, they all connect for us, and we can travel great distances in hours instead of days. So, that was the closest beach to where you were in the hospital. Plus, it was a special place—for us as friends and for the kelpies.”
“But there’s more.” Benjamin’s voice was tinged with some strong emotion. Anger? Disbelief? Fear?
“It’s almost the time for the sacrifice. We are a matrilineal people, and our mothers’ mothers decreed that we would no longer trick the unsuspecting into the water. We would either hunt people with dark souls or people who have, for one reason or another, given up on this life. The band agreed many years ago to this, and the magic was made to enact it. When I saw you, I saw a human sitting hunched over on the beach. I knew that you—this man—intended to go into the water to die. It made you perfect for the sacrifice, which must occur before the end of the longest night. So, before I knew who you were, I initiated the ritual to mark you. Then you touched the water.
“I couldn’t stop you. I came to help you if I could, to reintegrate into society, to heal from whatever wounds you’d suffered when the boat exploded. I didn’t know that instead of saving you, I’d damned you. You bear the sacrifice mark.”
Rez turned to look at Benjamin because he’d been silent, but he was close. His warm breath was steady, his skin smelled of cloves, his dark eyebrows furrowed in thought.
Benjamin looked tired and fragile, emotionally and physically. He freed his hand from the covers and groped around until he found Rez’s neck, his face.
