Taste the Dark

by Tibby Armstrong

  Nyx turned away, but not before pain ghosted over his expression. “I’m not really tired. Want some tea?”

  A tray of cakes and china cups rested on a tufted pouf. Akito eyed the artful ensemble, something striking him as off. The eerie translucence of the cups, wholly undecorated, had a familiarity about them that gave him pause.

  “Uh. Is that…?” He waggled a pointed finger in the direction of the tea service, leaving off the rest of his question, made of real bone?

  Nyx glanced at the tea pot. “Don’t ask. I conjured it from shit in my bag. It was all I had to work with.”

  Declining the cup in Nyx’s outstretched hand, Akito snatched a tea cake from the tray. He started to pop it in his mouth, but paused to give it a dubious sniff. It smelled of almonds. “Is this made from cyanide?”

  Nyx rolled his eyes. “Shut up. It’s an almond tea cake.”

  Reassured, Akito popped the thing into his mouth. The confection melted like spun sugar, and he sighed happily as he chewed and spoke around the mouthful. “No offensh, but you can’t be too carefu’ here.”

  “None taken.” Nyx took a cup and poured himself a measure of tea from the macabre pot.

  Akito eyed his friend.

  “I grew up with a set like this,” Nyx explained, pausing with the cup to his mouth. “It’s…comforting, in a weird way.”

  Akito just shook his head in a slow denial. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

  Taking a sip, Nyx grinned at him, a glint in his eye. “Just keeping you on your toes.”

  They flopped, shoulder-to-shoulder onto the settee. For a few minutes, they were just as they had been back in those early days. Two boys idling away a rainy evening in front of Ben’s fireplace. Soon they’d talk of school and sports, cars and what kind of toppings to get on their extra-large pizza. An ember popped, breaking the silence and bringing Akito back to the present.

  Akito nudged his shoulder gently against Nyx’s. “You doing okay?”

  Nyx nodded, sipping tea. “Was gonna ask you the same thing, actually.”

  Akito searched his mind and found its shadowed fields had sprouted tender shoots of hope and happiness. Whatever was going on between him and Lyandros, he had a feeling it went beyond this tribute thing. Or maybe he just wished it did. His face fell, as he realized that over his nearly three decades of life he’d wished for a lot of things. It had never made them possible or true.

  “I’ve missed you.” Nyx broke into his thoughts.

  “I shouldn’t have jumped,” he mused, his attention held by the flames leaping and crackling in the hearth. “I should have found another way. I’m sorry.”

  “Mm.” Nyx voiced wordless agreement.

  “But…I’m glad I met Lyandros.” Still fixated on the conundrum that was his relationship with the Justice Giver, Akito frowned. “Or I was.”

  Dropping his head back so it rested on the high cushion, Nyx slid his gaze sideways to Akito. “Why was?”

  Akito studied the imperfections in the plasterwork ceiling above his head. “Before this whole tribute thing, I think he actually saw me as competent and powerful. An asset. Now I can’t tell if he still likes me, or if I’m just a job.”

  Akito felt Nyx’s scrutiny. “What changed?”

  “He found out what I did to Isander…and about Ben. And all that got erased.” Making a disgusted sound, he shook his head. “Gods, I wish I hadn’t drunk Isander’s blood.”

  “I’m sorry.” Nyx, reaching out, squeezed his knee. “I wouldn’t have had you suffer like you did for all the diamonds in Faerie.”

  He squeezed Nyx’s hand in return. “Yeah. I know.”

  Nyx stood and stared out the window. Akito studied the rhythmic expansion and contraction of Nyx’s back, visible through the soft green of his jacket. Close fitting and tight, the cut and style emphasized the slight gracefulness of Nyx’s form.

  “If it helps, I know all about stupidity and regret,” Nyx said eventually.

  Akito’s answering chuff was full of self-deprecation. “Somehow, I can’t picture you being a dumbass like me.”

  Nyx faced him. “This whole damned war between the coven and the vampires is my fault.”

  “What?” Akito gusted, taken off guard by the statement.

  “Never mind.” Nyx shook his head, short spikes of his soft dark hair framing the masculine pixie shape of his face. “I mean, I can’t talk about it now.”

  “All right…” Akito said slowly.

  To Akito, Nyx, and he supposed to Benjamin too, had always been a steadying influence. Where he and Benjamin were impulsive and emotional, Nyx had been a parental figure. At first an older, wiser brother—if only by a year or so—and then a mother figure, flitting and fussing over them. Nyx had given them both the nurturing guidance they’d both lacked as orphans.

  Odd that Nyx’s parents were such assholes when Akito thought about it, because he’d been the only one who could rein in either him or Benjamin. Maybe Nyx just gave them what he’d always wanted? Which made the act seem even more incredible and selfless in Akito’s book.

  Thoughts of Benjamin fresh in his head, Akito asked, “Does Ben still hate me?”

  “Goddess, no.” Nyx sat, drawing his legs so he looked at Akito over his bent knees. “He never did.”

  Months-old hurt reared. “He threw me out, Nyx.”

  Nyx expelled a weary sigh. “In retrospect, it was a dumbass move on his and Tzadkiel’s part.”

  “Yeah?” That Nyx agreed with him unwound Akito’s scowl.

  “Yeah.” Nyx nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t speak up. I should have.”

  Akito cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

  “He’s really fucked up over your jumping off the bridge,” Nyx offered, tentative. “He hasn’t stopped drinking since, and Tzadkiel is worried enough to have threatened to throw him in a cell. The two of them had a knock down drag out that I thought was going to tear them apart.”

  “Wow.” Akito breathed the word, widening his eyes in mock surprise. “Benjamin drinking. Who woulda thunk it?”

  “You’re going to have to forgive him,” Nyx said, terse. “You about broke him with your crazy, Akito.”

  “I might never see him again, Nyx.” Akito pushed his hands through his hair. “If I do anything, say anything, it’s probably going to be through you.”

  “Your body is still alive,” Nyx reminded him. “There’s still a chance you’ll live.”

  “And if I go back, the Morgan will be there waiting.” Akito shot to his feet, pacing.

  “But you’re not a danger to me now. I know how to fight him. I know what’s going on.” Nyx’s pleading tore at him. “Don’t leave me, Akito. Ben already has, for all intents and purposes. I have no one. You at least have Lyandros.”

  “I’m his fucking tribute, Nyx!” Akito gesticulated to the ceiling. “Tell me how that means I have a relationship?”

  “Well at least you have chemistry and potential? You know who you are and what you want.” Standing, Nyx stalked to the fire and looked down. The fall of his hair momentarily obscured his face. When Nyx turned, Akito almost expected his features to have softened to those he had known for a decade and a half. Instead, the fae prince tossed his head back and stared down his regal nose, his expression one-half haughty and one-half heartache. “I don’t even know what I am—who I want to be.”

  Akito went to Nyx, standing before him. “You’re you. Nobody else. Just you.”

  Slight shoulders bent, Nyx hugged Akito with a muffled sniff. “Am I? Because I don’t know anymore. I really don’t. I don’t know which body I fit in anymore. What if I never figure it out?”

  Akito held Nyx for long minutes, just supporting and being a friend, surfing the tides of emotion that shook the foundations of his understanding. Sure, finding Nyx standing there last night in his genetic form—sans the wrist cuff’s magic shielding—had been a shock but, ultimately, it didn’t signify to Akito what Nyx looked like.

&nb
sp; “I just want you to be happy.” Akito pulled back, cupping Nyx’s wet cheek. “’kay? Whatever you decide—whoever you are—is good by me. And if you decide you’re both? Neither? I’m down with that too.”

  Nyx swiped impatiently at his eyes, drying the dampness there. “I can’t figure it out without you. Please come back to me? To us? To life?”

  Life. Messy, unpredictable, dangerous life.

  Akito swallowed hard. He didn’t know if he could go back to the pain of living and remain sane. The place the Morgan had occupied formed a chasm in his brain, so large and empty he might never fill it. What if he was institutionalized again? Like when they’d all been kids. There would be no Nyx and Benjamin to comfort him this time. He’d be alone.

  For Nyx, he said, “I will.”

  “Thanks.” Nyx pressed the heels of his hands against his cheeks, swiping at them. “Sorry for being a wuss.”

  Akito made a self-deprecating sound at the back of his throat. “You’re not the one who jumped off a bridge.”

  Nyx’s answering smile was tremulous. “You did it to save me.”

  “I did it to save myself as much as you from the Morgan,” Akito corrected. “But when it’s time, I’ll come back, and we’ll face that bastard father of yours together.”

  “He’s not my father,” Nyx reminded him.

  Akito frowned. “Is the fae king, really?”

  Behind them, a throat cleared, interrupting.

  Akito and Nyx glanced around to find Isander framed in the chamber doorway. Nyx nodded in Isander’s direction, an implicit answer to some understood question, and Nyx squeezed Akito’s arm. “More later, I gotta go, ‘kay?”

  “Sure.” Akito watched Nyx leave and imagined the flurry of skirts and bells where now butter-soft suede abounded. The fae prince’s long strides were graceful, with a deer-like lope that Akito envied. No matter what form Nyx ultimately decided to embrace, his friend would always be the epitome of loveliness and power.

  “Love you Nyxie Stix,” he called.

  Nyx, expression brightening, threw over his shoulder, “Love you, Akito Burrito,” and shut the door between them.

  Chapter 21

  Moonlight streamed around Lyandros in shafts of liquid silver. From his perch in the central chamber’s wide windowsill, he admired the view of the intricate fae gardens with their hedge maze and twining walks bathed in monochrome shadows. A soft breeze played with his hair, sending fingers of sensation along his scalp. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. If it weren’t for the evil pervading the fae court, he might have begged a place here forever.

  No.

  His Justice Giver’s conscience reared, labeling the notion cowardly. Whatever the gods had in store for him—whether oblivion or an afterlife among their exalted number—he would live out the destiny that had been handed down to him. He would return to Boston and would do what he could to help the mora before he met his fate.

  In the darkness behind his closed lids, he felt his connection with Akito like a heartbeat. Always there. Comforting in its sameness. In a few short weeks since their bond, he had grown used to Akito’s presence in his mind. His tribute’s emotions were not the steadiest of tides to surf, but they were inextricably linked with Lyandros’s own now, coloring his moments with an extra layer of life that he chose to embrace.

  “You’re up late.”

  Lyandros turned his head at the sound of Nyx’s voice. The fae, framed in the doorway opposite, regarded him with quiet intensity.

  “I was just getting ready to turn in.”

  “Akito in bed?”

  Lyandros nodded. “And my brother sleeps?”

  “Finally.” Trailing a finger along the intricate molding of the door frame, Nyx studied the woodwork. “He doesn’t, um, that is…I think he’s afraid he won’t wake up.”

  “How exactly do you two know each other?” Lyandros asked. “It is obvious it is through the Morgan.”

  From speaking with his brother, Lyandros knew that Isander had been asleep for fifteen years, give or take some months. Lyandros speculated that Nyx was too much Isander’s junior to have been his lover at any time during captivity, though with the fae age was difficult to determine.

  Nyx’s lips thinned. “I’ll leave it to him to tell you the story.”

  “Very well.” Standing, Lyandros moved to a chair nearer the fire.

  Despite the relatively balmy night, flames blazed, warming the stone pile that the fae court called its residence. Nyx took the seat opposite him. Drawing his slender legs upward and encircling his shins with his arms, the fae propped his chin on his knees. They regarded each other openly.

  It was Nyx who broke the silence with, “Thanks for taking care of Akito.”

  “Of course.” Lyandros inclined his head in acknowledgement. “He is my responsibility as my tribute.”

  Nyx snorted. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  Lyandros’s brows lifted. “Have I spoken falsely?”

  “Nope.” Fingers laced together, Nyx rocked backward a fraction, as if to better regard him. “You fell for Akito hard. It was inevitable you’d find some way to bind him to you.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Lyandros bristled at the implication that he’d manufactured a way to become Akito’s dominant. “I could have asked him, at any time, to be my submissive. The arrangement we have is not sexual, so much as punitive.”

  At this, Nyx threw his head back and laughed. The sound rang like the pealing of bright tenor bells. Lyandros waited out the display of emotion, lip curled with his disdain.

  “Sorry. That was classic.” Nyx swiped at his eyes with his knuckles and cleared his throat. “Are you really that oblivious to your own feelings?”

  Lyandros shrugged. “My feelings are unimportant.”

  Nyx blinked at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “What matters is that I carry out my responsibilities as Justice Giver. My oath to oversee and implement whatever correction would help Akito improve, grow, and atone.” Lyandros turned one palm upward in a gesture of explication. “That is my duty.”

  “Shut. Up. Are you serious?” Standing, Nyx placed fine-boned hands on boyish hips. “Do you even hear yourself?”

  “It is my responsibility to—”

  A disgusted snort cut him off.

  “Stop.” Nyx held up a hand, palm outward. “Just forget it. I can’t help stupid.”

  Lyandros glared at the fae, caught off guard by the show of blatant disrespect.

  “But for the record,” Nyx continued, bitterness putting an edge to his words. “Tribute bond or not, if you’re fucking him without loving him? You’re as bad as the Morgan.”

  “I do nothing to him that he does not enjoy,” Lyandros ground.

  Nyx cocked his head, gaze narrowed. “Do you even know what the Morgan did to him?”

  “I can guess, and it is nothing like what I have—” Lyandros opened his mouth and closed it several times on half-formed replies, then shook his head. “That is… No. I do not. Do you?”

  “No.” Nyx, dropping his feet to the floor, shot him a glare. “But I know my mother’s husband, and—”

  “You can quit the pissing contest, you two.” Hair tousled, eyes puffy with sleep, Akito glared at them both from the opened bedroom door wearing only thin, cotton pajama bottoms. “Neither of you knows what the Morgan did to me. Not really.”

  Lyandros, shocked that he hadn’t felt Akito wake, nor heard the bedroom door’s opening, twisted in the chair to better take Akito’s measure. “How long have you been standing there?”

  Akito notched his chin. “Long enough.”

  “Careful, tribute,” Lyandros warned.

  Stalking to the hearth, Akito pulled up a footstool and plunked down on it sullenly. “You want to speculate about me? Do it to my face.”

  “All right…” Nyx caught Lyandros’s eye. “But nobody is going to force you to do or say anything you don’t want to.”

  Returning his attention to
Akito, who had taken up a cross-legged position on the large footstool, Lyandros said, “Speak if you wish to, and I will listen.”

  “Thanks…” Gaze leaving Lyandros’s, Akito skipped his attention around the room. “So… Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Might as well start with this.”

  Slowly, lifting his hair, Akito turned his head and exposed his nape. Candlelight illuminated puckered wheals. Lyandros leaned closer to examine the series of swirls and jagged lines marring Akito’s neck.

  Nyx’s sat back. “He branded you?”

  The fae’s horrified observation echoed the knife-like pain to Lyandros’s midsection. Akito’s memories reared between them, and Lyandros smelled the sickly-sweet stench of burning flesh, heard Akito’s pained screams.

  Akito dropped his hair, and the memories evaporated. “I handled the other stuff he did to me. After he branded me, though, he could control me, even from a distance.”

  Fury poured through Lyandros, its molten courses making their way to his own shaking limbs. Nausea roiled his stomach. He had known the Morgan had tortured Akito, but this brand held a special significance. It marked not only Akito’s body and mind as the Morgan’s, but also his soul.

  “That son of a bitch,” Nyx growled. “I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.”

  Not if Lyandros got to him first.

  “I found out later that he let me steal the kylix and get away.” Akito scrubbed his hands over his face, coming to himself. “He could see everything that was going on with the mora through me. I was his spy.”

  “You were not at fault.” Lyandros shook his head, emphatic, needing to soothe Akito’s roiling emotions. “Not in this.”

  Akito laughed bitterly. “Isn’t that why I’m your tribute?”

  The idea that Akito might think him so shallow brought Lyandros up short. “Of course not.”

  “Then why?” Akito asked, chin coming up.