by A. H. Lee
Chapter 38
Jessica
“I’m Jessica. Are you a student?”
Ania shook her head. Jessica caught the flash of her earrings again—crescents of glittery studs. “I’ve considered it. What do you think; would I fit in at the art college?”
“I think you would,” said Jessica seriously. She was trying not to be distracted by Ania’s perfume—something that reminded her of autumn bonfires and traveling circuses and cotton candy. “The college here has a great reputation. What’s stopping you?”
Ania was watching her mouth, smirking. “You’re cute.”
Jessica blushed again. “You hardly know me.” Am I using magic on you? I don’t think I am, but when Mal is stirring things up, it’s hard to tell.
Ania lifted one of the shots Mal had left behind and tipped it back. “No, I mean you trying to give me a pep talk.” Before Jessica could respond, she continued, “I’ve seen you around. Staying out at Codington’s vacation cottage, right? I thought you were on your honeymoon.”
Jessica smiled. “It’s complicated.”
Ania raised one eyebrow. Jessica saw that she had a tiny piercing there. It made her look damned sexy. “So, that guy is your boyfriend?”
Jessica decided there was no need to be coy with a girl of obviously unconventional tastes. “They both are. Sort of. But it’s not exclusive.”
“Damn,” muttered Ania. “You are Miss Complicated.” She turned to look at Azrael and Mal curled around each other on the dance floor. “They look pretty exclusive.”
Jessica downed the last of the shots. “They’re more complicated than you think. Wanna play table tennis?”
Ania turned back around. Her incisors looked wicked when she grinned. “I would love to play table tennis. But I warn you, I am deadly with a paddle.”
“I warn you I am very hard to spank,” purred Jessica.
As they stood up, Jessica caught movement out of the corner of her eye—the large man at the bar that Ania had been speaking with earlier. He’d turned his head to watch them. “Do you know that guy?” muttered Jessica.
Ania sighed. “Just ignore him.”
Chapter 39
Mal
Mal and Azrael stopped dancing at last. Jessica had gone off somewhere, so they sat down at the bar and ordered some eel rolls. Azrael had two more drinks. Mal had four. “I have a very high alcohol tolerance!” he shouted over the noise of the bar.
“I know!” returned Azrael. “I pay for your parties!”
Mal barked a laugh.
“I’m sure you could drink me under the table!” continued Azrael.
“I’m sure I will if you keep this up!”
“Tell me about the sentient machines of the Desert States! I’ve always been curious!”
So Mal told him—a shouted conversation with as many hand gestures as words. Mal even told him about his attempts to seduce a robot, which made Azrael laugh until he could hardly breathe. His cheeks were pink. His eyes were bright. He looked happy again. Mal felt relieved.
“Are you getting enough to eat?” asked Azrael.
“I don’t know; I could go for some chips.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Mal spread his hands. “Are you joking? Yes. Come downstairs with me, just for a little bit. That’s where the action is.”
“Alright.”
The college kids were slow grinding to a sensual beat amid strobe lights and a smoke machine. Even in his intoxicated state, Azrael looked suddenly uncertain. Mal had an arm around his shoulders. He leaned over and murmured in his ear, “If you look closely, you’ll see that about half of them aren’t actually touching each other all that much. Some of them are, but not everyone. There’s a lot of sexual energy in this room, though.”
Azrael swallowed. “I can see that.”
Mal kissed his ear, ran his tongue around the rim. “Let me drag you around the floor a little?”
“I think I’ll embarrass myself.”
“No you won’t. Anyone looking will be looking at me. They do that even when I’m not a panther.”
Azrael gave a laugh that was almost a giggle.
Mal pulled him out into the lights and smoke.
Chapter 40
Jessica
Ania was good at table tennis. Jessica wondered if she herself was drunker than she felt. “I think that’s enough of a spanking,” she said after losing the third round. A small group of college boys had gathered to watch. Mostly, they were watching Jessica’s breasts bouncing under her sweater and whispering rude comments to each other. She avenged herself by feeding on their lust. I hope you don’t have any exams tomorrow, gentlemen, because you are going to be more hungover than you expect.
Ania was a smug, but benevolent victor. “You want to play pool?” she asked with a gleam in her eyes. “That’s more my style.”
“I don’t know how,” said Jessica.
“Then let me teach you.”
Ania on a pool table was practically a meal in itself. She had a lithe, androgynous grace and a habit of making trick shots from improbable poses. Because she was so small, she often needed to climb onto the edge of the table, sometimes sticking her shapely ass in the air. She clearly knew exactly what she was doing and what she looked like while doing it.
She patiently showed Jessica how to line up each shot, often putting her arms around her, and speaking in a throaty purr directly into her ear.
“For this one, I’d place your hand there,” she said, gently sliding her hand around Jessica’s and arranging her fingers just so. “And the cue like this.” She was standing behind Jessica, and her retreating arm brushed Jessica’s breast. “And your body maybe a little more this way.” She took Jessica’s hips and scooted them over. Her finger slid under the edge of Jessica’s sweater and brushed her skin.
Jessica looked at Ania sidelong. “You’re a good pool teacher, but I think I’m a bad student.”
“Why’s that?” Ania hadn’t moved her hand. Her fingers started drawing little circles on Jessica’s stomach under her sweater.
“Because I’m having a hard time concentrating.” Jessica was sorely tempted to feed on Ania. The other girl was offering herself, and it would be extremely easy. But something held her back—genuine attraction, a feeling of fondness. If she was going to make friends with Ania, she shouldn’t use magic on her without her permission. Jessica contented herself with feeding off the lust of the other people in the room, which remained plentiful.
Ania had her entire hand under Jessica’s sweater now. “Hey, you two gonna play pool or just grope each other?” asked a man who’d come up with his friends. “If you’re not going to use the table, let us have it.”
Jessica ignored them and kept looking at Ania. “I want to dance downstairs. And I’d really like to dance with you.”
“Sounds good to me.” Ania turned to the boys with a sharper expression and said, “We’re almost done.” Then she took the cue from Jessica, hopped up on the edge of the table, and sank half the balls with a single shot. She proceeded to clean up the rest of the table in two more perfect shots—one from behind her back, the other a careless jab that didn’t even look like a pool shot. The men were gaping as Ania and Jessica walked away.
“Where did you learn to do that?” whispered Jessica.
“I work at the casino some nights.”
“Do you make your living at the casino?”
Ania gave her a toothy grin. “I have been known to pay the rent that way occasionally.”
Professional gambler. No wonder you seem so suave.
As they headed down the stairs, Jessica looked back and was a little unnerved to see the big man from the bar standing in the corner, still watching. “Ania, that guy…”
“I know,” she muttered. “Truly, just ignore him.”
Chapter 41
Mal
Azrael was a little stiff at first, awkward. But I’ve seen you on a horse, thought Mal, the way you move yo
ur hips and back. You’ve got a sense of rhythm and the stamina for this. Mal danced beside him, coaxing, shimmying his hips playfully right up to Azrael’s.
Gradually, Azrael’s posture relaxed, and he started moving to the music. Then, to Mal’s amazement, Azrael started to imitate him, follow him. They were moving together, inches apart, and the room was full of lithe bodies thrusting and gyrating to a driving beat. Mal felt as intoxicated by the sexual energy as by the alcohol.
The song ended and a new one began, this time a little faster. Azrael slid his arms all the way around Mal’s neck, and suddenly there was no space between them. Their hips moved together, and Mal could feel Azrael’s cock brush against his own through their clothes. He wanted to grab his ass and pull them even tighter together. Rules, he reminded himself desperately. I made rules.
“You—are—teasing me,” he panted into Azrael’s ear.
“Wasn’t that the point of bringing me down here?” breathed Azrael.
Mal growled. Azrael’s arms, locked tight around his neck, felt like an invitation for his hands to wander. He ran them up and down Azrael’s sides and then fumbled at his waistband. Mal untucked Azrael’s shirt, then his undershirt, and slid a hand over his bare back. Azrael gasped against his neck.
“Not taking your clothes off,” muttered Mal. “Not touching you below the waist.”
Azrael trembled with laughter and—Mal was certain—arousal. “You’re a demon; loopholes are your specialty.”
“Not my only specialty.” Mal brought his hand to the curve of Azrael’s hip and ran it up his body until his thumb brushed over a nipple.
Azrael gave a sharp, breathless whimper.
Mal was delighted. “You like that? Not all men do.” He drew his head back enough to kiss again. “How have we lived together for twenty-three years, and I don’t know all your buttons?”
Mal run his hands all over Azrael’s body under his shirt, reveling in the feel of his unprotected skin. I want you, I want you, I want you…
Azrael stopped moving suddenly and arched his neck to look Mal in the face. Mal tried to follow him with kisses, but Azrael pulled back even further. In the strobe lights, it took Mal a moment to realize what he was seeing. Azrael’s wards were glowing—runes of blue light that crawled over his skin and clothes.
Mal felt a moment of vertigo. Why? And then he realized that he was pulling on Azrael’s magic. He was pulling hard. “I—”
Even through the haze of alcohol, Azrael looked hurt, betrayed.
Mal gave up any attempt to explain and focused on shutting down the thread of energy between them. It had been a long time since Mal had lost control of himself this way. He felt horribly embarrassed. Azrael’s wards flickered out as Mal’s assault upon them ceased.
“I didn’t mean to—” he began again.
But Azrael was already stumbling away from him, off the dance floor. He wasn’t walking straight and Mal caught up with him at the wall. “Boss, please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“I need to go home,” said Azrael thickly. “I shouldn’t be here. How late is it?”
Mal looked around. There was a clock over the stage, but it was difficult to see through the smoke.
“A little after midnight.”
Azrael screwed up his face, rubbed hard at his eyes. “Did anyone else see that?”
Mal was sure he meant the wards. “It’s dark and smoky in here, Boss. I’m sure they didn’t.”
Azrael nodded. He stood up from the wall, swayed, and Mal reached to catch him. “Don’t touch me,” he hissed.
Mal drew back, feeling slapped. Azrael made his way along the wall to the door and up the stairs. Mal followed him. “You stay here,” said Azrael over his shoulder. “Feed. I’m going home.”
“I’m fed,” said Mal miserably. “You’re not going home alone like this.”
Azrael didn’t answer. He walked unsteadily towards the main entrance. Mal followed him, looking around for Jessica. She could be anywhere—talking with someone she’d befriended at the bar, fucking them in the bathroom, or just playing table tennis upstairs. Mal might even have missed her downstairs.
The two of them usually left clubs and parties together, but not always. Jessica can take care of herself, Mal reasoned. She’s bound to be in better shape than Azrael right now.
Azrael did not stop to collect his coat on the way out, but Mal did. He caught up with his master on the sidewalk in front of the club. The noise sank to a muted thump as the door closed. The sudden silence felt as chilly as the fall air, which rose in clouds of mist as they breathed.
Azrael did not turn around. His eyes scanned the street, probably looking for a cab. He hugged himself, already beginning to shiver. Mal came up behind him and draped his coat around his shoulders. Azrael clutched it without turning. “Go away, Mal.”
“You can’t make me. I’m not bound.”
Azrael flinched, and Mal regretted his words. “I am not letting you go home alone drunk. I’ll go away when I know you’re safe.” Mal saw a cab in the distance and waved.
Azrael didn’t try to argue anymore. He didn’t look at Mal, just stared at the sidewalk.
Mal spoke to the driver. Azrael climbed into the cab. He climbed all the way over the seat to sit as far away from Mal as possible, crossed his arms, and shut his eyes.
Chapter 42
Jessica
The basement of the Electric Octagon was pumping. Jessica could taste Mal’s magic like heavy spice in the air. A lot of people are getting laid tonight.
“Looking for your boys?” shouted Ania.
Jessica was. She felt certain they were here, based on the intensity of the erotic magic in the air. But amid the smoke, the strobe lights, and writhing bodies, even Mal’s impressive silhouette did not stand out. “Yeah, I’m just checking for them.”
Ania started to move to the music. Her shoulders and hips twitched delicately—not overdoing it, but her rhythm was perfect. Of course it is, thought Jessica. But here’s one place I might be able to keep up with you.
She moved towards Ania with a shimmy of her own, the other girl walking backwards, snapping her fingers as she moved. “Will they be terribly jealous to discover that I’ve lured you away?” asked Ania with a grin, forcing Jessica to follow her across the floor.
Jessica giggled. She caught up and got close enough to Ania for their breasts to brush against each other. “They are somewhat distracted by each other at the moment.”
“I could see that.” Ania had started grinding with Jessica, moving her hips in a circular motion, not quite touching her. It was sensual and invigorating. Jessica stopped trying to talk and gave herself over to the dancing. It felt like they were on equal footing at last, although Ania could certainly keep up. Her glittery stud piercings flashed in the strobe lights as she flung her glossy curls. She wasn’t aggressive with her hands, but when Jessica finally caught one and placed it on her hip, Ania slid it under her sweater immediately, stroking her belly and sliding around her back to her ass.
They started dancing with more contact, hip to hip. Ania pressed her thigh between Jessica’s legs, and that felt amazing. Jessica wanted more. Ania seemed to sense it. Over the course of two songs, she maneuvered Jessica towards the edge of the room. At last, Ania backed her off the dance floor, against a wall amid the smoke, flashing lights, and moving bodies. Her thigh pressed tightly between Jessica’s legs and finally they were kissing.
Ania tasted like a mixed drink—something with cucumber, fresh and crisp. Her hands slid up Jessica’s back and flipped the clasp on her bra like an expert. Then she was cupping a breast under Jessica’s sweater, making a happy moan into Jessica’s mouth. Her fingertips flicked the nipple. Jessica cried out. She tilted her head back, and Ania kissed her throat, nipped her hard with those wicked teeth.
They were still moving with the music, moving against each other. Jessica’s skirt had slid up until her panties were pressed against Ania’s thigh close to her body. Ania wa
s grinding against Jessica’s hip. With each thrust, the tension mounted—unbearably sweet.
Jessica groaned. She couldn’t have gotten under Ania’s tight jacket if she had tried, but she grabbed her ass, pulling her close, creating even more pressure between her legs. Ania bent her head suddenly and pushed Jessica’s sweater up, exposing her breast. The heady mixture of embarrassment and arousal spiked through Jessica as Ania bit her nipple. Jessica had time to think, I hope Mal and Azrael are having as much fun as I am, before she came hard against Ania’s thigh with the other girl’s warm mouth on her breast.
Chapter 43
Mal
They were almost home when Azrael spoke, his eyes fixed out the window. “It was my fault. I teased you.”
But I wanted you to, thought Mal. I loved every minute of it. “I’m really sorry,” he said in a small voice. “I won’t do it again.”
Silence.
“You know I didn’t mean to, right? You believe me…right?”
Silence.
When they reached the cottage, Azrael had to count the driver’s fee three times. Mal finally helped him. He forced himself not to touch Azrael as he navigated the steps up the porch and through the door.
“Can you fix yourself with magic?” ventured Mal. “Because you are going to have such a hangover.”
“I don’t want to waste the magic,” muttered Azrael. “We’ll need it all tomorrow.”
You won’t think it’s wasted in the morning, thought Mal. “You need to at least drink some water before you sleep.”
He led the way into the kitchen and Azrael followed him wordlessly. The cottage seemed very quiet, the electric lights too harsh and bright. Azrael was still flushed. His shirt was untucked and he hadn’t taken off his coat. Mal handed him a large glass of water and then poured one for himself.
They leaned against the counter, drinking in silence. Mal sensed some of the tension draining out of Azrael. He spoke at last, in a soft voice, without looking at Mal. “When we took Bethsaria—left their armies in chaos, snuck into their capital, scared their council witless, made their king swear to stop the war—it felt like you and me against the world.” Azrael drained his glass. Mal handed him another. Let him talk, thought Mal. He said nothing.