Spiked

by Mychael Black, Jourdan Lane, Willa Okati

  I did as he said and almost giggled when the fish began eating the pieces out of my hand. “They're so pretty, Simon."

  "Aren't they?"

  When the last piece of orange was gone, Simon put his hand over mine and guided it to the edge of the pond. I started to pull away, but he whispered for me to wait. After a few moments, a black and white fish with a red dot on the top of its head swam up under my hand. Simon guided my hand over the fish.

  "She's an attention hog. None of the others will let me do this."

  "It feels so ... cool. Are they all the same kind of Koi?"

  "Oh, no. There are several different varieties in here. This one? The guy that Lucien bought her from called her a Tancho Showa. She's supposed to be rare. I liked her the moment I saw her, but just couldn't accept her at the price the guy was asking. Lucien bought her anyway. There's an Aka Matsuba, a Goshiki or two, a few different Kohakus. I've got two Kin Ki Utsuris in here, but they never show up at feeding time."

  "Oh, I could never eat them now, Simon.” The fish I was touching swam away and I took Simon's hand. “They're your babies."

  "They bring me comfort,” he said softly. “Maybe they will give you some as well. What's going on in that head of yours, Sabaan? What has you so sad?"

  It wasn't just one thing. It was dozens of little things that just kept adding up until it was one huge, crushing weight.

  "Oh, Simon, I am such a fool."

  "Why do you believe this?"

  I went to lean back, but his chest was right there at my back. After a moment's hesitation, I relaxed and he rested his chin on my shoulder. I shook my head, tears welling up at the depth of kindness.

  "A demon with powers based in lust and sex—and I feel dirty because I've been used for sex. It just ... It hurts. I thought he came to me because we were both in the same boat and that he wanted comfort as much as I did. But all he wanted was to make a point. To use me to get to Nikolas."

  "I see,” Simon said softly. “We are talking about Lucien, yes?"

  I nodded. “But I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I know you love him."

  "I can love him and still not agree with some of the choices he makes.” He kissed the side of my head, sighing. “I'll listen if you want to talk."

  "Promise me it'll stay between us?"

  "I promise."

  "When Peter came along and Lucien finally agreed to put the past behind us, I can't tell you how relieved I was. I always regretted that we parted ways as we did and I wanted nothing more than to try to make up for my past mistakes."

  "What did happen between the two of you?"

  "I fucked him. Got him high on lust where he wasn't able to say no, and then blew his mind."

  "And blew your friendship apart."

  I nodded. “I can't blame him for hating me for it. Even though I teased him relentlessly over it, I still hated myself for doing it."

  "The two of you seemed to be getting along rather well over the past year."

  "For the most part.” I shrugged. “I've been trying so hard to be good. To not let the lust rise around him, to be just a friend to him, you know? And Peter, too."

  "And Nikolas? What have you been to him?"

  "Clingy, I guess."

  "Sabaan..."

  The chastisement in his voice made me search for another answer. I wasn't sure how he did that, but it always seemed to work. Unfortunately, there were no easy answers. “I don't know."

  "What do you want to be to him?"

  Tears well up in my eyes and I didn't bother to hold them back. “Everything."

  Simon wrapped his arms around me and I curled into his chest, letting him hold me. That was the thing about Simon. He knew how to comfort people even when life just wasn't worth living. All of my frustrations and fears of the past year soaked into his shirt and he stroked my hair and my back, rocking me back and forth.

  After my tears finally stopped, I took a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

  "No, don't you dare apologize. Sometimes, in order to get past things, we have to let go of all the pent up frustrations, fears, and worry.” Simon kissed the top of my head. “Let your shields down, Sabaan, and let me see the real you."

  "Oh, I don't think—"

  "Come on, now. Where is the Sabaan I know?” When I didn't answer, Simon cleared his throat. “Have you been hiding so long that you're no longer comfortable in your own skin?"

  "You don't know what it's like, Simon. I never know now if someone's going to accept me as I am or flee in horror."

  "I do know what it's like. Or have you forgotten what I am?"

  I looked up at him and frowned. “Yeah, but you don't have another..."

  "How do you think I've managed to hide what I am so well for all these years? To walk among humans yet not be seen as anything more.” He smiled and sat back, letting go of me. “I'll drop my glamour if you'll drop yours."

  As far as I'd known, Simon didn't have any other form. I had always thought him plain for an angel, in some ways. Most of them were ethereal creatures whose beauty was so great it was hard to look upon them. Simon was a handsome man, but I'd never quite considered him beautiful before.

  At my nod, Simon stood and began to unbutton his shirt. I raised a brow. “If you're planning on getting freaky first, can I just say I'm not in the mood?"

  "My shirt will not fit, Sabaan.” He dropped the shirt to the ground and shrugged. “Nor will the pants."

  Before I could question why, the Simon I knew was gone and in his place stood a massive, hauntingly beautiful angel: his once short, blond hair replaced by long, brilliant white waves, eyes still blue, yet so bright it was if they almost glowed in the light of the moon.

  I stood, but still had to look up at him to see all of him. There was no mistaking what he was now. I swallowed hard and reached out to touch him, drawing my hand down a muscular chest.

  "Oh, Simon."

  "They called me Symael."

  "Odd name for an angel, isn't it?” I paused and cast a glance up at him. “Very close in name to one I know as Samael. Any relation?"

  "I am not of his!” Simon's voice became thunderous, his body tense, and his eyes full of fury. “I am still an angel of the High Order and I could smite you for that disrespect, demon."

  "Must we resort to smiting and name calling? I thought we were just talking casually, you know? I didn't mean anything by it. I swear.” I reached up and touched his cheek. “No smiting the Sabaan, eh?"

  "I have long been ridiculed for my name, seen as a force of evil.” Simon closed his eyes and sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. “I'm ... sorry."

  "No, I shouldn't just say the first thing that comes to mind."

  The corner of Simon's mouth turned up in a small smile. “That's what makes you—you."

  "I was wrong anyway. Symael. Your name means in the company of God."

  Simon studied me for a moment. “I still see a mask, Sabaan. Have you decided that you would rather not be as honest with me as I have been with you?"

  "I will.” I smirked and started to walk around him. “But I haven't had my fill of—"

  My words were silenced by the sight of Simon's back. Two bony structures protruded from his flesh. Simon hadn't just been cast out and had his wings taken away—they'd been cut off. And then he'd been whipped, the wounds as fresh and bloody as the day he'd received them so many years ago.

  Now—now, I knew why he'd never shown anyone else his true form.

  It was hard to fathom the thought that angels could be so cruel to their own. I knew Hell demons that were treated better than this, even on a bad day. I dropped all of my illusions and forced myself to continue walking. When I stopped, I looked up at him and smiled, trying to hide the pain and sorrow I felt for him.

  "Happy now?"

  "Perhaps if that pity you are feeling at the moment wasn't directed at me."

  "What the hell do you expect? I've seen Hell demons treated
better."

  "Such a pretty demon.” Simon closed the distance between us and took my face in his hands, then kissed the top of my head. “And so caring. You are truly one of a kind, Sabaan."

  I shook my head in dismay. “How can you—you—call me pretty? I mean, have you looked in a mirror lately?"

  "We are all different,” Simon laughed, “And it's those differences that make us unique. If we all looked the same, the world would be a very dull place. You know this."

  "I guess."

  "And yes, I can call you pretty because you are. You are beautiful and deserve every bit of the happiness that you desire."

  "Do I?” I pulled away from him and sat down on the ground again. “Or am I being punished for my past sins by him not even noticing me?"

  Simon sat across from me, stretching his legs out before him. “If that's what you believe, then you aren't paying much attention to him yourself."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He looks at you with such longing. It's as if you are someone he wants, but he cannot have. Maybe your signals are getting mixed? Or maybe they're not quite strong enough for someone as stubborn as Nikolas to see clearly."

  "Maybe.” I shrugged. “But you know what? He notices Peter's signals just fine. A simple look and the two of them are so close there's no room for air between them."

  "Does it make you jealous?"

  "I'm not the jealous type."

  "Does it make you jealous, Sabaan?” He repeated the question and this time I couldn't stop myself from nodding. The thought of being jealous of someone or something made me sick. That wasn't me—wasn't who I was or what I was taught. Simon reached out and wrapped a hand around my ankle, thumb caressing the skin lightly. “Then perhaps it's time you do something about it. If you are constantly fighting your own feelings of jealousy, then maybe Nikolas sees that as you being unwilling to ask for what you want."

  "How do you suppose I do that?"

  "Be yourself, Sabaan. Stop trying to be good to impress Lucien. Stop hiding your true form from the coven. Be the Sabaan I know. Be loud, be proud, and don't give a shit what others think of you. If you see something you want, demand that you get it and don't stop until it's yours."

  "Speaking of Lucien...” I broke off, twirling a piece of grass between my fingers, not knowing quite how to phrase my question.

  "He's hurting pretty badly right now."

  "So I shouldn't judge him too harshly?"

  "I would say no, but he still needs to be held accountable. What he did to you was wrong and he needs to know that you're angry with him over it."

  "I may be pissed at him, but I think I feel sorry for him more than anything. Peter treats their open relationship like a free pass to fuck whoever he wants, with no regard to Lucien or how Lucien feels about it. I mean, before tonight? Lucien's never, ever screwed anyone else. For an incubus as he is, do you know what kind of control that takes?"

  "Peter's having a difficult time, too."

  "Oh, don't tell me you're defending him."

  "No, no.” Simon shook his head quickly. “Not exactly. But you have to stop and think about a human reacts when they come into this world. It's far different from anything they've ever known. And Peter? To be thrust immediately to a position of power? That's difficult to grasp."

  "Peter's not human anymore, though. And the worst of it has happened after he was turned."

  "Peter's like a virgin—"

  I snorted. “Ha! You've got to be kidding me!"

  "Figuratively, Sabaan.” Simon chuckled and drew his legs up to his chest, then wrapped his arms around his knees. “He's just coming out, finding out what sex is—and it's too damned good to just stick with one person. He's got to try it all. As much as he can possibly handle. And then? One morning he wakes up and he's had everything there is to have. There's nothing else, but what he wants is stability, someone to love him and not just fuck him."

  "I still don't think that fits him, Simon."

  "He was human. He came into this world expecting to love Lucien and Lucien alone. But things happened, bonds were made, and parts of him awakened that he didn't even know existed within him. Vampires and werewolves throw themselves at him because of his position, to find favor with both Peter and Lucien. It's a little much for someone so new to this world to handle efficiently. Peter is stubborn and he doesn't want—and can't really afford—to be seen as weak. So he tries to manage it the best he can. Looking at him, one wouldn't know right off the bat that he's struggling."

  "With what? How to fit more people in his bed?"

  "With love, what it really is, what it really means.” Simon sighed heavily. “Look, Sabaan. I don't know how to say this without hurting you, so know that's not my intention, okay?"

  "What?"

  "I truly believe that Peter and Lucien are soul mates. They are everything to one another—even if they get in their own ways a lot of the time."

  I raised an eyebrow, frowning. “And this is going to piss me off how?"

  "I truly believe that it's possible to have more than one soul mate. This thing with Peter and Nikolas? I can see how scared Lucien is of losing Peter because I think Peter's relationship with Nikolas is strong enough to rival the relationship between Peter and Lucien. There is a bond between Peter and Nikolas. It's strong and it's not going to go away."

  "Great. So the one person I want—is someone else's soul mate."

  "I believe Nikolas is yours, too. I also believe that the four of you need to sit down and examine your relationships together. Do not let this go so long that it gets out of hand and all that's left is bitterness, jealousy, and hatred."

  Dread pooled in my gut. “Maybe it would be better if I just walked away."

  "Easier? Probably. Better? Not likely."

  I couldn't stop the tears and this time didn't care to hide them. “This was not what I wanted."

  "Does monogamy really fit you or Nikolas?"

  "No, but—"

  "Then why try for it when it would only end up hurting you or him, or making you both miserable in the end? You can still have love and commitment. It can work."

  "I hate you right now."

  "Think about what I've said and come find me if you need me. I'm always here.” He stood and in moments, the Simon I'd always known smiled down at me. “I've got to check on Adam. Sometimes he gets a little freaked when I'm not hovering. Don't eat my fish because of me, okay?"

  "Thank you.” I stood and wrapped my arms around Simon's neck, hugging him tight. “And I don't really hate you."

  "I know."

  * * * *

  For a long while after Simon left, I lay on a bench and stared up at the night sky. My thoughts had been restless before our talk but now? They were going in so many directions that all I was starting to feel was numb.

  I knew Simon had been right on many accounts, but hearing someone else validate my own fears was a little more than I wanted to deal with at the moment. Disgusted with the situation and myself, I sat up, trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my night. Part of me knew I should just head on back to my place, but another part of me wanted to stay at the mansion in hope that I might run into Nikolas.

  Yeah. How desperate had I become? Waiting around like a fucking lovesick pup for someone who didn't even notice me.

  Fuck it.

  I was going home. What I needed now was a long, hot shower, a nice rare steak, and a big glass of wine. My own bed would be nice, too. Not some guest room in the mansion of a man who'd gone out of his way to use me for his own jealous ambitions. I gathered the robe around me and dematerialized, rematerializing in my own living room.

  It should have been comforting—and was, in a way—but the energy was just different. Here, there was no hum of life and people, only the hum of electricity and my bank of computers lining the walls of my office. Which reminded me that I needed to check my mail, check to see if I had any jobs waiting in the queue.

  But that could wait. I'd not chec
ked either in a week. One more night wouldn't make any difference. I shrugged the robe off and draped it over a chair, then walked to the bathroom to start the shower. Once I was satisfied with the heat and the steam, I climbed in and just stood under the spray of water. Gradually, I increased the heat until it was scalding hot and my skin felt raw.

  Only then, did I reach for the soap.

  After my shower, I made quick work of getting a steak from the refrigerator and getting it half-ass grilled. Raw would have been good, but the idea of a cold meal was nauseating. I pulled out an old bottle of merlot and poured me a glass, settling in to my meal and my wine alone.

  At one point, I licked a drop of blood and juice from my finger and my fingernail caught my attention. I stopped for a moment and studied my hands, grimacing. My nails were long, and as black as they'd ever been. They'd been black my entire life, but I wondered how they might look if I covered them with something. Like those long, fake nails women used to cover their own short ones.

  That one thought led to another. Cut my hair, maybe. Have my horns filed. Contacts. Did they make contacts for eyes such as mine? Where could I get them? Who would I have to kill to be able to keep my identity a secret, yet achieve a new look? Where I could walk among humans and be seen as one, without having to resort to another form.

  Maybe that was what Nikolas wanted. Someone who might not be human, but looked human on first glance. After all, he might turn furry, but no one would ever know what he was just by looking at him. And then with his attraction to Peter...

  I sighed and poured another glass of wine, only to be interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. Slowly, I set the bottle down and rose from my chair. The alarms hadn't gone off to indicate someone in the tunnels and, to my knowledge, Nikolas hadn't even found a way around them yet.

  Leery, I walked to the door and opened it only to find Lucien on the other side. It was the wrong time of night for Lucien to be anywhere other than locked away in his chambers, waiting for dawn.

  "What the hell are you doing here?” I glanced at the clock to my left. “At five-fucking-thirty in the morning?"

  He raised his right hand. In it, was my robe. “I ended up with your robe."

  "And that was so urgent that you risked the giant fireball in the sky to bring it over?"