The Brotherhood 8 Under Hill and Over the Bar

by Willa Okati

  “Oh, God! God!” Laurence cried out, shattering the silence they’d been hard put to muffle through every thrust and arch. A part-laugh, part-relieved sob burst from Keelan as he rocked insistently against Laurence, clearly eager to receive all that was coming his way. Laurence didn’t disappoint, feeling the orgasm shoot from the soles of his feet all the way through his cock, spraying Keelan’s insides with gout after gout of semen.

  Keelan gave a mighty shudder, but seemed to manage to wrench himself back from the precipice. His breathing was fast, though, harsh and ragged, loud in the still air around them. He looked at Laurence with huge, dazed eyes that Laurence somehow knew said, Me next. Please.

  Laurence felt as if he had almost no energy left, but he couldn’t let Keelan down. Drawing out of the elf’s body, almost coming again with how good the movement felt, he let Keelan’s legs slide off his shoulders and to either side of his hips. This time, he bent down and, instead of just taking hold of the cock on offer, indulged himself shamelessly by sinking his mouth down over the organ, tasting salt and musk, semen and sweat, licking up and down the side like a lollipop and finishing off with one mighty suck at the swollen head.

  Keelan loosed his own shout, speaking again in the language Laurence didn’t know, and came in Laurence’s mouth. Laurence had done this before, plenty of times, and used his past experience not to miss a drop of the sticky fluid. He rolled it around in his mouth, over his tongue, and then swallowed, time after time until he lost count.

  When the last drop had trickled down his throat, Laurence sat back and released the elf’s cock and breathed heavily. Keelan gazed at him, eyes heavy-lidded with lust and orgasm, but at the same time extending an invitation. He held his arms open wide to underscore his offer. Laurence thought he knew the elf’s thoughts. Come here and let me hold you.

  Laurence went, and gladly. Collapsing into Keelan’s embrace, almost laughing as he realized how much longer the elf’s hair had grown, he curled into a willing embrace that ended with both of them on their sides, arms twined around one another. He felt slender, talented fingers stroking his own shorter red hair back from his forehead and sighed in pleasure at the feel of their touch.

  Lying there felt good. No, better than good. Wonderful. No, more. It felt like coming home, something Laurence had wanted for forever, or so it seemed.

  And he was going to give this up?

  No, a voice wailed in the back of his head, overriding the you have to from the other part of his mind.

  No, no, NO!

  Laurence closed his eyes tightly and shook against Keelan, who immediately began to soothe him with touches and kisses, although the elf couldn’t have known why Laurence was upset. Not that Laurence could tell him, either -- could he?

  He had to leave. This was their goodbye.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment, around a knot in his throat. “Keelan, I would if I could, but ...”

  “But it seems that I have won the bet.” A new voice, whispery and scratchy like thin nails being drawn down a chalkboard, accompanied the sound of starched silks and rustling leaves. A chill wind blew across Laurence’s sweat-sheened skin, causing him to shiver.

  He didn’t want to look up. Whatever was there looking down on him with such patent amusement that it nearly burned holes into his skin would be something he didn’t want to see. But Keelan nudged him, clinging a bit tighter, and Laurence made an impulse decision.

  He looked up.

  And up, and up.

  Directly at the shadowed visage of someone who he instinctively knew could have frightened fish out of a pond, birds from their trees, foxes from their dens, and rabbits from their holes. This was a creature nature had not shaped to be kind, or gentle, not in any way, shape, or form. A being made to be frightening to look upon, and no less terrible for its cacklings of glee.

  “Black Malice, I presume,” Laurence said slowly. “Come to collect your silver?”

  Chapter Seven

  Like a living nightmare, a creature from the land of shadows and dreams, Black Malice didn’t so much walk as float over to a dais that appeared out of nowhere, covered in black cloth. Two more popped up, with creatures that could only be elves lurking behind them, peeking in at the action. What, is this a show now?

  The other two were an annoyance, but Malice, he instinctively knew, was something you shouldn’t take your eyes off. Laurence watched her with the fascination a rabbit has for a snake. He knew that she could kill him, easily, but he couldn’t look away from the terrifying elf -- if she truly were an elf. Hadn’t Keelan been in some doubt about the matter?

  Speaking of Keelan, he seemed to be less awed, or maybe he simply had more balls. “Are you here early, or playing spectator?” he demanded, raising up onto one arm. His other came down protectively over Laurence’s chest. “It’s not dawn yet, Malice.”

  “Sss, sss, sss. I know this.” Malice folded herself into a sitting position and crossed her arms over her ribs, beneath her breasts. Gnarled hands with hooked claws for fingertips peeked out of her long, inky black sleeves. Laurence couldn’t see her face, but she had an air of being hella pleased with herself. “I have won the bet, though, and I’ve come to collect my silver, Keelan.”

  “It isn’t morning,” Keelan repeated stubbornly, but the note in his voice plainly revealed his bluff. Laurence had heard the same tone at least a hundred times. I didn’t know the assignment was due today. Honest. The elf tightened his grip on Laurence. “Go away until the sun rises, Malice.”

  She hissed another few bursts of her strange laughter. “I think not, little elf. I’ve been watching -- you do put on quite a show, but I know what the mortal has decided. You have not won his heart, and he will not be staying with you until the morning light. My silver, then, if it pleases you.” She extended one terrible hand. “Or do you not have so much coin to your name?”

  Laurence decided he genuinely didn’t like Malice. Pushing Keelan’s arm out of the way, he sat up himself. “So, what, you’re judge and jury now?”

  “Laurence!” Keelan looked horrified. “Be quiet!”

  “Why should I? This thing’s just admitted she’s been spying on us. I think I have the right to be a little indignant. Actually, I’d say I have every right to be fucking mad. Who gives you the right to spy on me and my lover?”

  “Oh, it’s lover now, is it?” Malice clicked her claw-like nails together in a chittering chorus that sent shivers down Laurence’s spine. “When did this change? As for who gave me permission, I need none. This is Faerie, and this circle is part of what I call home, which means I have a right to monitor what goes on within it. But ... lover? Does the phrase stretch so far as to include ‘beloved’?”

  Laurence growled. “What if I said it did?”

  “Sss, sss, sss. It all depends on whether you can back your words up with proof, doesn’t it?” Malice settled back in a position of waiting. Laurence still couldn’t see her face, but he could imagine the avid, ravenous expression she’d be wearing a little too easily. “Well? Beloved, or not? I will halve the amount of silver if you can prove this much.”

  “Oh, really? Well, halve this.” And with those words, Laurence turned to Keelan, seized his face in both hands, and pressed an ardent kiss to his lips. Keelan was stiff at first, no doubt shocked, but then became an eager participant, winding his arms around Laurence’s neck and clinging on tightly. Laurence felt the light scoring of nails down his back as their tongues tangled together, but he didn’t mind. Let Malice take a look at them and tell him he didn’t care about Keelan.

  She was cackling again by the time they ended their embrace. “Pretty, very pretty. But people who are not in love kiss all the time, oh, yes, they do. Just as words mean nothing without actions to back them up, the reverse holds true.”

  Laurence watched Malice guardedly. “What exactly is it that you want?”

  She spread her hands. “Why, simply to hear you say the words. If you mean them, they will not be so har
d to speak, will they?”

  “I don’t usually have an audience for this kind of thing.”

  “You don’t usually have this sort of thing to deal with at all, do you, boy?” Malice clicked her claws at Laurence a second time. “Go on, then, if you dare -- and if you mean it.”

  Laurence dealt her his best severe look, then turned to Keelan and kissed the elf again, thoroughly and affectionately. “I’m pissed off as hell about the bet, but damn it if you haven’t made me care for you,” he whispered against Keelan’s lips. “I would have waited to tell you some other way, some other time, but she’s pushing me on this, and I don’t want to make a beggar out of you.”

  “Ah, but do you love him?” Malice inquired, far too politely. “Those are the conditions of the bet.”

  Laurence narrowed his eyes and refused to look away from his lover. “I could almost hate you for making a bet about me, but you know what, Keelan? I think you regret ever saying you’d wager on me. Tell me if that’s the truth, and then maybe I’ll say what more than one person wants to hear.”

  Keelan looked at Laurence, limp within the circle of his arms, and nodded soberly. When he spoke, his voice was just as solemn. “These are hard words for an elf to say, as we rarely feel such things as I do now. Confessions and apologies do not come easily to us, but for you, I feel that I must say something, if only to appease you. Laurence, hear me out. I misjudged you as a man, and I was a blackguard to think about wagering with a mortal’s emotions in the first place. I’ve been too long away from humankind and had lost my sense of what was right and proper. If you can forgive me, I would ask it of you, but I would understand if you cannot accept my repentance.”

  “Idiot.” Laurence kissed Keelan again, then pressed his lips to the elf’s shining forehead. “Something tells me I’ll regret this, probably the next time you piss me off, but I forgive you for making a bet. You didn’t know me, but you do now.”

  “You still haven’t said what I need to hear.” Malice’s voice was an unwelcome reminder.

  Laurence glared over his shoulder at the dark apparition. “You want to hold your horses? I’m getting there. Give a man a minute, would you? It’s not like we can just say these things the way women do.”

  Malice hooted. “You’re no woman. I’ve seen proof enough of that tonight!”

  “I just bet you have. Lech.”

  Malice bristled. Keelan made the universal gesture that signified, I can’t believe he just said what he said. Laurence turned back to Keelan.

  “This is sooner than I would have liked,” he said quietly, not caring if Malice heard or not -- although he suspected she had bat ears lurking under that cowl of hers. “I can’t say I love you, Keelan. Not yet. I don’t even know you well enough to tell you anything of the sort. But the bet was over whether or not you could gain my heart. I didn’t want you to, but you did. You’ve won my heart, captured my imagination, and worked wonders on my dick, which for a gay man who’s not used to getting any, is the most important.”

  Keelan burst into laughter. “I could say much the same for you. And I will sweeten the pot with this: although I have had ‘plenty,’ as you say, I will keep myself for you and you alone as long as you will have me.”

  “Not bad.” Laurence thumbed Keelan’s lickable lower lip. “I accept.”

  Keelan surged up to kiss Laurence, a sweet meeting of lips with nothing to it but pure affection and gratitude. “You are a great man,” he said, drawing back. “Your heart is big enough for forgiveness and acceptance of someone so different from yourself. More, you trust me. I do not know of any others who would take on someone like myself.”

  “Oh, but I do,” Malice interjected. “Laurence, your friend David has been in love with a vampire for some weeks now. Collin, the one you find so cold, has discovered his fire heart with twin dragons, and is even now soaring above the city on his new-found wings. Christian, the one you think young and foolish, has found his perfect match, one that will last him a lifetime, even though he thought he would never meet someone to sweeten his life. Even Micah, the vain and foolish Micah, has come to discover the beginnings of true love in the arms of an alien man! What you share between yourselves is not so special.” Click, click went the talons. “Or perhaps you think it is so, merely because it is yourself you speak of?”

  “Damn straight.” Laurence glared at Malice. “What’s more, I’m going to push you even further, you old bitch.”

  “Laurence!” Keelan flinched. “Have a care, man!”

  “I only pull my punches in the classroom. You said terms of the bet were for you to win my heart, as well as for you to keep me here until sunrise. Well, here I am, and here I’m going to stay until dawn’s rosy light peeks its ass over the horizon.” Laurence gazed at Black Malice defiantly. “You’re not going to win any silver off my man, so it’s you who might as well start paying up now.” Laurence gathered Keelan to him, defensively and protectively because, hell, a man had to make a stand. “Take that and stick it where the sun doesn’t shine, Malice.”

  Malice began to laugh, a fearful sound that echoed off the stones of the circle. She cackled until she wobbled, finally raising one hand beneath her cowl as if to wipe tears away. “Oh, I like this one, Keelan. He has balls in plenty. Enough for both of you to share.”

  “I teach elementary school. After facing down thirty ten- and eleven-year-olds all day, there’s pretty much not a damn thing that can faze me -- not even you, Malice.”

  “Oh, no?” Malice raised her hands to the edges of her cowl. “And what if I showed you my true face? Would you still have the nerve to lie there and taunt me?”

  “Give me your best shot. I’ve already told you once, I’m not that easily impressed.”

  Keelan made a noise of amazement. Laurence glanced at the elf to see him shaking his head. “What?”

  “No one has ever seen beneath the disguise Malice wears,” Keelan whispered. “Who knows what lurks under her hood?”

  “A carburetor?”

  Keelan looked puzzled for a moment, then annoyed. “Don’t provoke her. I’ve no desire to look on the real face of Malice.”

  “Too bad,” Malice said, her voice changing from scratchy to silky. She began to push back her hood, then paused. “If you can face me down, Keelan, I will forgive the rest of the bet. No one has had the nerve to look on me in a thousand years. But if you can look me in the eye and acknowledge that I am a woman, I am Fey, and I am more powerful than you -- that I am beautiful -- then that is worth two thousand silver.”

  Laurence turned to Keelan. “Well?” he asked. “Want to haul your butt out of the frying pan?”

  “Right into the fire?” Keelan shot back. “Malice, hold a moment. I would speak to Laurence first.”

  Malice’s fingers danced on the hem of her cowl. “A moment only. My patience is not eternal.”

  Keelan faced Laurence, expression earnest. “If I am a free elf after this and do not have to sell myself into Court service to pay off my wager, I would ask that you come to see me again.” He quickly added, “I would have the chance to win so much of you that you will gladly speak words of love. I know that you are not ‘out,’ as mortals say; I will not push you on the matter until we both know you are ready to reveal yourself to the world -- and I think that one day soon, you will be, unless I misread your strength of will.

  “But more, I ask that you let me come with you into the mortal realms, and that you come visit me here. There is more than one portal into Faerie, and more than one way to enter. You need not visit Amour Magique again to see me. That is ... if you wish to.” Keelan placed a hand on Laurence’s chest, directly over his heart. “Will you?”

  Laurence laid his own hand over Keelan’s. “It’s a deal,” he promised, meaning every word he said. He couldn’t ask for a better lover than Keelan. Willing to be discreet -- although God only knew how discreet someone like Keelan could keep things -- well, at least he was going to try. Pretty good company, all things considered.
Bonus: fantastic in bed. Laurence couldn’t wait to see how spectacular his sex life was about to get.

  An idea occurred to him. “Malice?” he asked, glancing at her.

  She tilted her head. “Yes?”

  “What do I get for looking at your face?”

  She reared back a bit, as if terribly confused. “I beg your pardon?”

  Laurence summoned up another dose of false bravado. Couldn’t start backing down now. “Well, Keelan gets out of paying two thousand silver. What do I get if I have the nerve to look at you, eye to eye?”

  Malice laughed again, but a bit breathlessly. Good. He had startled her. “You have nerve, mortal.”

  “It’s Laurence, and I suggest you start using the name. I might not be able to live forever, but while I do I demand some damned respect.”

  Malice shook her head. “Does he really have more balls than brains, Keelan? Or is he simply just this rash?”

  “I begin to wonder,” Keelan replied, although his hand on Laurence stroked as if to pat his ruffled feathers down. “Answer his question, Malice; it is a fair query.”

  “Very well.” Malice flicked her nails, obviously thinking. “A portal,” she decided. “I will give you a small box, forged of Faerie silver, which you may carry with you. Whenever you wish to visit with your Keelan, all you’ll need do is open the box and a doorway will be created.”

  “Keelan said they were dangerous for people who didn’t know how to travel them,” Laurence said suspiciously. “For people without a guide.”

  “And so they are. This, however, would be safeguarded and bring you directly to Keelan’s side each time you traveled the dark roads.”

  “The value of the box?”