by A. H. Lee
Mal gave up. “We wish you’d come to the Revels with us,” he finished lamely.
Azrael turned way. “No. Here, hold this pangolin for a moment.”
Chapter 8
Jessica
Jessica got back to Azrael’s rooms just as the clock struck six. My rooms now, too, she reminded herself. She was hungry, having finished her snacks and picnic meal long ago. She intended to grab a bite—just so that she wouldn’t be embarrassingly famished at the Revels—and change clothes before leaving again.
She unlocked the door and came hurrying through the sitting room into the kitchen with such speed that she startled Azrael at some task over the kitchen table. He jumped like a nervous rabbit and brought his hand down over whatever he’d been working on. “Jessica. I thought… Mal left for the party half an hour ago.”
“I’ve been up in the hills,” panted Jessica. “Yuli and I found the most amazing sunken bathhouse! I just need to eat something and change.” She rooted around in the cabinets and icebox, emerged with cheese and crackers. “I see Mal did not manage to change your mind about attending with us.”
“No, I have other things to do.” Azrael swept something off the table and dropped it into his pocket. Jessica restrained herself from asking. The explanation would probably be long and technical, and she didn’t have time.
She did pause to admire a dark blue, beautifully embossed book, featuring a night sky. “I saw that in the new acquisitions earlier,” said Jessica. “I can’t remember what it’s about, though.”
“It’s a dreamcatcher,” said Azrael. “It had an encryption enchantment, which I broke this morning. Rather clumsily, I’m afraid. Whatever dreams had been recorded were erased.” He reached out and flipped the book open to demonstrate. The creamy pages were blank.
“Oh. Well, it’s pretty anyway. How does it catch dreams?”
“It writes them like a journal,” said Azrael. “It might catch a few of ours tonight.”
Jessica smiled. She wondered what might flit through her dreams. Not children, I hope.
Azrael got up. His respectable charcoal dress pants looked a bit wrinkled, and his white shirt was positively scuffed and stained.
“You and Mal must have worked hard this afternoon.”
Azrael said nothing. He moved around her, pulled a mug off a shelf, and poured the tea.
Jessica cocked her head. “Or did he just mess up your clothes?”
Azrael turned and offered her the fragrant mug. “Both. Lord Loudain and Lady S will be arriving in a week, a little ahead of the other guests. I’ve told Lucy she can invite Jacob. Mal was apoplectic, but that might just be because it was Lucy. Are you comfortable with Jacob coming with the early group?”
Jessica accepted the tea. That’s interesting. I thought Lucy was just setting a hunter off our scent at the Council Meeting. “Yes. I mean, if Lucy wants him there, who am I to say otherwise?”
Azrael look at her narrowly. “You’re a demon. He’s a demon hunter.”
Jessica shrugged. “We’re on your island. I’m your…” Friend? Playmate? Familiar? Your boyfriend’s girlfriend?
Azrael spoke quickly. “I can certainly protect you here. But…I thought I should ask.”
Jessica smiled. “I look forward to meeting him again…under better circumstances.”
Azrael nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something else.
Jessica tapped the side of her throat. “You have an….um… Right here.”
Azrael shut his eyes and swore.
Jessica sipped her tea. “Just so you know.”
He put both hands over his face and rubbed hard. “I’m not used to this. It feels like I’m going to embarrass myself or worse at any moment. And all these strange people showing up on my island in a few days… Mal says, ‘Don’t let them come.’ But I feel like I should.”
“I think you should,” agreed Jessica. “And it’s not easy saying ‘no’ to Mal…no matter how much simpler it would make your life.”
Azrael stared at the ceiling. “I feel like I used up all my ‘noes’ over the last twenty years. I don’t have any ‘no’ left.”
Jessica set down her tea and put her arms around his chest. He encircled her immediately, and she felt him relax a little. Jessica remembered riding behind Azrael on a storybook horse. She’d wrapped her arms around his lean, warm body for balance, but she’d known, then, that she couldn’t really hold him. She’d wanted to pull him close, tuck her face against him, feel his body relax to fit her own. But that had seemed as impossible as touching the moon.
And now it wasn’t. Now he was right here, talking to her as a person inside his tiny circle of trust. Will he regard what I want as a betrayal of that trust?
“You are a good friend,” said Azrael against her hair. “I don’t know what to do with one lover, let alone two, and he is so much more demanding. But I hope you know, Jessica, how much I appreciate you being here.”
Jessica rested her cheek against the collar of the shirt Mal had ruined. She inhaled the scent of ink and the bright, green-grass smell of Azrael’s magic. Jessica shut her eyes. She loved the fact that he trusted her. She didn’t want to do or say anything that might make him stop. “Is Lady S the one with the lemur?”
Azrael’s voice rumbled pleasantly through his chest and warm clothes. “Yes. He’s an aspect of Sloth. She’s had him for a long time. I don’t know whether he’s an astral entity or something earth-born. I don’t know whether she’s in love with him.”
Jessica snickered. “Do people fall in love with other kinds of demons? I mean those who aren’t aspects of Lust?”
Azrael shrugged. “No more readily than they fall in love with mortals.” He hesitated. “But sorcerers are often a little odd, a little isolated. Demons become our only companions. Long association…”
Jessica nodded. She raised her head and very gently kissed the bruise Mal had left under Azrael’s jaw. He made a tiny noise, although she couldn’t tell whether it was pleasure or pain. “What did he do?” she whispered. “You don’t have to tell me, but you’re making me curious.”
Azrael gave a jittery laugh. “Turned me over my desk in my tower.”
Jessica stifled a snicker against his shirt. “No wonder you’ve got ink on your clothes.” She thought a moment. “It’s because he was never allowed up there, you know.”
“I know. I said…” Azrael broke off and swallowed. “I have lost my mind.”
“I don’t think so. Your cock doesn’t think so.” Jessica could tell that the memory was making him hard.
Azrael laughed again. He sounded like a boy when he did that.
Jessica tilted her head up and kissed him on the mouth—warm and relaxed and a little bristly. His breathing had picked up a bit by the time she pulled away. “I am so tempted to drag you to bed, build a pillow fort, and make you tell me about it in exquisite detail.”
Azrael cleared his throat. “Mal suggested we…uh…recreate it for you.”
Jessica barked a laugh. “However,” she continued, “I promised Tod I would dance with him, and he is a particular friend.”
Azrael nodded. “I have something to do this evening, as well, something I’m making…for you.”
Jessica’s eyebrows rose. “How mysterious. My birthday is still months off.”
He smiled. “This will be sooner than your birthday.”
“Can I have a hint?”
“I fear you must live in suspense.”
“Oh!” Jessica stepped away from him with mock disappointment. “Well, then, I will take myself off to the Revels, where the suspense is manageable. See you later this evening.”
Chapter 9
Jessica
The Revels began as Jessica remembered—with masks, music, pretty clothes, drinks, and dancing. Jessica had been to only one such party before, her time and attention having been taken up with Mal and Azrael after that. Unlike other events on the Shrouded Isle, these parties were hosted exclusively for the court
iers and a few of the island’s permanent residents. They were not for the entertainment of political guests.
The courtiers enjoyed the Revels as an opportunity to spend time with each other. Occasionally, they formed lasting attachments. Azrael had received more than one wedding invitation from courtiers who’d met here.
However, the more practical purpose was to fully charge Mal’s magical energy. Mal did need something to work with, of course. Even he could not create desire where none existed. He could enhance it, though—lower inhibitions, remove guilt, shame, anxiety, and fear.
The courtiers were chosen specifically for their high sexual energy, beauty, and good natures. They were tested before they arrived. Most of them were in their twenties. It wasn’t generally difficult to stir things up.
I could do it…in theory, thought Jessica. But she’d only ever tried that with Mal. Whereas he was a demon with a sliver of humanity, Jessica was human with a sliver of demonic nature. Jessica worked best one-on-one.
She’d worn red this evening, like last time—satin, strapless, with a full skirt and black lace around the hem. It wasn’t quite Shattered Sea—a little closer to the modern fashions farther inland, a little daring. Azrael had presented her with some adorable black boots a week ago, and the dress allowed them to show just enough. Her mask was white porcelain with red feathers and a black lacy pattern around the eyes. Like all the masks, it only covered the top half of her face. One was likely to need one’s mouth for eating, drinking, and other activities.
Jessica hadn’t arrived with any of her friends, and she didn’t try to find them straight away. The big, fresco-painted ballroom easily swallowed a few hundred courtiers. They danced in the center near the orchestral dais or visited around the edges, where couches and tables with food, drinks, and games were set up. The room opened onto the gardens, full of flaming torches. Jessica glimpsed the big, heated pool, the hedge maze and gazebos beyond. The garden glowed with just enough light to appear friendly and left just enough shadows to provide privacy.
Jessica danced with three men—two she recognized in spite of their masks. They were casual acquaintances from her cohort. The other was from a group a couple of years ahead of Jessica. They certainly wanted her, and she fed off their desires—taking a little energy from each, knowing she’d have ample opportunities before the night was over. Her magic was not low in any case, not after Tod.
She’d been at the party for an hour before she spotted him, sipping a drink and talking to a few of the older staff members behind the orchestra. He was wearing the peacock-blue coat she remembered from last time, complete with gold sash and the white mask with painted swirls of deep blue and purple. He looked so utterly different from his usual servant’s livery that only his red hair and Jessica’s memories gave him away.
His eyes lit up behind the mask when he saw her. “Excuse me,” he told his friends. “I was promised a dance.”
Jessica grinned as he took her in his arms. “This time I promise not to make you weak at the knees,” she whispered.
“Too late,” he whispered back.
“Are those people some of your friends on the staff?” asked Jessica.
He nodded.
“Will they stay all evening?”
Tod shrugged. “Probably not. But they’ll play cards for a while and watch.”
“I’d like to join them for a bit if you’ll introduce us,” said Jessica. “I should meet permanent residents if I’m going to be staying here.”
“Making yourself lady of the house?” Tod teased.
Jessica shot him an arch look. “How can I? When Mal is already lady of the house!”
Tod snorted a laugh. He stopped suddenly, looking over Jessica’s shoulder. “And speaking of Mal. Oh, for gods’ sakes.”
Jessica turned and saw him. Mal was wearing his beautiful long-tailed, high waisted black coat with silver buttons, but he’d gotten himself a new mask. It was a cat face—black velvet with green swirls around the eyes. The cheeks had been lined with a spray of fine, black feathers that looked like fur. He was talking to several other courtiers, all of whom looked thoroughly fascinated.
Tod and Jessica kept dancing. “Good, he’s talking to people,” said Jessica. “He needs more friends.”
Tod looked incredulous. “Everyone on the Shrouded Isle is his friend!”
“I mean friends he doesn’t fuck.”
“Good luck with that.”
When the song ended, Jessica led Tod somewhat unwillingly to the drink table where Mal was now temporarily alone. He was clearly assessing the energy in the room, deciding what to do with it, humming to himself.
His green eyes glittered behind his mask at Jessica and Tod. “Red and the Wolf. Adorable. But watch out. In this version of the fairytale, she eats you.”
Tod rolled his eyes. “You’re a fine one to talk about adorable.” He tapped his mask.
Mal grinned even wider. “Shall I get you one with pointy ears? Maybe a fluffy tail?”
Tod picked up a drink. “Fuck off, Mal.”
Jessica watched them carefully. She’d never seen Tod and Mal exchange more than a few words, although she knew they’d had a liaison several years ago that had left Tod feeling confused and a little hurt. He was not normally interested in men, and he hadn’t known, then, that Mal was an incubus.
Tod clearly found Mal’s cheerfully overbearing nature and boundless confidence somewhat grating, especially when it involved getting him into bed. Tod also didn’t trust Mal as an astral demon. On a deeper level, Jessica suspected that Tod was a little jealous of Mal’s uncomplicated relationship with his shapeshifting. Tod would never be so easy with his own animal nature.
“Have either one of you seen Yuli?” asked Jessica suddenly. “I thought she’d be here.”
Mal shook his head.
“Nope,” said Tod. “But if she’s changed her mask recently, I might not recognize her.”
“She’s more into watching than fucking,” put in Mal unhelpfully.
“Yuli has a boyfriend at home,” said Jessica. “She’s fond of him. But they both knew what she was getting into when she volunteered as tribute, and she enjoys the parties.”
“I know,” said Mal with that smug, I-know-everyone’s-bedroom-business expression.
Tod spoke without looking up from his glass. “Are we playing outdoor games tonight?”
“I was thinking maybe,” said Mal. “It’s cool enough.”
“Outdoor games?” asked Jessica.
“Yes, in the fall and winter, people need to get their blood moving,” said Mal. “It’s a little chilly to be taking clothes off otherwise. Sometimes we play games outside. Games where people chase each other are best. I can really get them going when they chase each other.”
“Sometimes Capture the Flag,” said Tod with a twinkle.
Mal laughed. To Jessica, he said, “He beat me once and has never forgotten.”
Tod shrugged. “I take what I can get.”
Jessica looked down at her dress. “Capture the Flag…in these clothes?”
“I’ve often thought it was a little unfair to the ladies,” said Tod. “Although if you’re playing tag at a Midnight Revel, the point really isn’t not getting caught.”
“Not for most people,” said Mal to Tod. “Normal people.”
“Fuck you,” said Tod, this time with more pleasure.
Jessica shook her head. “I am not playing tag in this dress, and it’s too cool to play in my underwear.”
“You’ll just have to find a man who wants to trade clothes with you,” said Mal. “I can point out several.”
That made all three of them laugh.
Mal’s grin dropped away abruptly. “Hell’s teeth, what’s she doing here?”
Jessica turned to see a striking figure making her way towards them around the edge of the room. She wore the kind of white gown that never went out of fashion, a golden mask, and a mink half-cape. “Lucy!”
Tod squinted. �
��Who is she? I thought I knew everyone on the island.”
“She’s someone who usually stays in her bottle,” growled Mal.
“She’s an earth-born aspect of Avarice,” said Jessica to Tod, “bound inside a perfume bottle. She’s quite elderly, but powerful. Azrael has had her for a long time, and she acts like his mother.”
Tod turned incredulously towards Jessica, and she leaned against his ear to whisper more softly. “She and Mal don’t get along.”
Mal had started purposefully toward Lucy. Jessica and Tod trailed after.
“Why is she out here now?” whispered Tod.
“No idea! I hope they’re not going to fight.”
Lucy stopped walking when she spotted Mal. She let him approach, giving him an appraising stare. Her eyes settled on his cat mask. “Subtle, Mal,” she said in her cultured purr. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
He ignored this. “I do not recall sending you an invitation.”
“You didn’t.”
“Does this mean Azrael is here?” interrupted Jessica without much hope.
Lucy shook her head. “I just wanted a look at the debauchery. I confess, this is more tasteful than I expected.”
“Give me a couple of hours,” grated Mal. “This isn’t your scene, Lucy.” Jessica could tell that he meant, “This isn’t your territory.” These parties were Mal’s particular province. For years, they’d been one of the few places where he was allowed to look human. Jessica liked Lucy and wanted her and Mal to get along. However, she could see how Lucy’s presence—something Mal interpreted as hostile and judgmental—would feel like an invasion in this place.
“Does Azrael even know you’re here?” demanded Mal.
Lucy’s eyes scanned the crowd, the orchestra, the immense doors open to the beautifully lit garden. She said nothing.
“Gods, he is really just letting you wander around, isn’t he?”
Lucy’s eyes snapped back to Mal and now they were unmistakably hostile. “If you think so much of Azrael, perhaps you should trust his judgment. I live on this island, too. I have a right to know what goes on here.”