Nicolas

by Dianne Hartsock

  Nicolas gasped, kneeling at his side and rolling him to his back. Blood seeped from a horrid wound on his temple. The body under his hands lay still, not breathing. Nicolas shook him, listened for a heartbeat. Nothing.

  “Cristo! Mi dispiace… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….” Nicolas’s words broke off on a sob as the horror of what he’d done struck him. He’d killed him! How would God forgive him? Brokenhearted, he wept on the butcher’s still chest. It was a few moments before the children’s weeping penetrated his grief. He glanced at them, his heart clenching tighter. They huddled together, sobbing in fear and confusion.

  He met the oldest boy’s terrified gaze. “Take them away from here. Go home. Run. Don’t stop until you are safely in your mother’s arms.”

  The boy nodded and ushered the younger ones toward the door. They left, and Nicolas drew a sharp breath when the oldest boy looked back over his shoulder. Nicolas’s gaze clashed with his wild green eyes, full of malice. He surged to his feet, but the boy laughed and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Nicolas in the scene of carnage and despair. Oh God, had he killed the butcher only to have his blackened soul flee to the child? If so, he had done an unforgivable thing that day.

  Chapter Thirteen

  JAMIE LOOKED fondly at Andy Meiden as the boy rested his head on Jamie’s shoulder, his tousled brown hair partially hiding his freckled cheeks. They’d been painting for several hours and Jamie needed a break, even if the boy didn’t.

  “What color do you want the sky?” he asked, indicating the picture coming together across the large sheet of construction paper on the table. Andy tilted his head, studying their work. Jamie’s heart warmed with his enthusiasm. He’d been teaching Andy how to paint the scene outside the kitchen window, trees under a layer of snow, the brief sunlight shining on their limbs.

  Andy caught his pink tongue between his teeth, then let out a delighted chirp. “Yellow! I want it to be all bright.”

  “Yellow it is.” Jamie pulled their makeshift paper plate palette closer and added a dollop of yellow. “Remember, only a little water,” he cautioned as Andy dipped his brush in the water cup. Their picture looked more like lumps of green and white where the paint had smeared, but they could fix that once it dried.

  While Andy created the sky, Jamie peeked into the living room. Nico was still stretched out on the couch, asleep. John had retired to his den down the hall earlier, saying he wanted to catch up on some letters. The cabin was quiet, cheerful. Jamie hoped it stayed that way.

  A small hand slipped into his and he smiled down at Andy’s bright face. “All done, Jamie. Can I show Dad?”

  “Of course.” He glanced at the picture, a grin tugging his lips at the yellow blotch dripping into the trees. “Ask him to come out here, though. It’s still too wet to carry.”

  “Okay.”

  Jamie watched him skip from the room, then grabbed a clean sponge and began to wipe the drips of paint from the tabletop and floor. It only took a few moments to have the kitchen back in order, cups and brushes soaking in the sink. Andy still hadn’t returned, and he walked over and glanced down the hallway. It was quiet from the den, and he shrugged. Maybe John was busy.

  He looked across the living room. From this angle he could only see Nico’s curly head on the end of the couch, but his heart sped up like it always did around him. Going to him, he took a second to add another log on the dwindling fire, then sat on the edge of the couch beside his lover.

  “Nico?” he murmured, wanting to see his lids flutter open, a warm light enter his eyes as he gave him a sleepy smile. He frowned. Nico didn’t move. In fact, his body seemed almost rigid, and though his face was passive, a bead of sweat slipped across his forehead, into his hair. Adrenaline shot through Jamie, and he gripped Nico’s shoulder, shaking him urgently. “Nico! Wake up.”

  No response. Heart racing, Jamie dropped to his knees beside the couch and cupped Nico’s face with shaking hands. “Darling, answer me. You’re scaring me.”

  Nothing. Nico remained still, though his breath hitched and became ragged. Jamie shook him by the shoulders, growing frantic when Nico continued to sleep. Something was definitely wrong. Why didn’t he wake up?

  A faint cry came from down the hall, and Jamie jerked his head up. Oh God, was Piter here? He couldn’t face him alone! He shook Nico a few more times, then rose to his feet when Andy shouted his name. He raced across the room, only to stop dead at the entrance to the hallway. The dark corridor seemed to stretch before his eyes, the door to the den becoming lost in a gray mist as the hall grew miles long.

  Andy’s cry came again, and Jamie shoved away his fear and stepped into the hallway. Immediately, he was sucked into a vortex, feeling the walls contort around him as he rushed headlong toward the end of the passage. He braced, wondering if his body would break when he slammed into the solid wood. His stomach heaved as he came to a sudden stop, his pulse pounding in his ears. Head reeling, he reached blindly for the knob and flung the door open.

  Jamie blinked. John’s desk was littered with papers, computer still on, but the den was empty of occupants. He stepped inside, and jumped when the door slammed shut behind him with enough force to shake the pictures on the walls. The sound echoed like a shot and Jamie covered his ears, hissing with pain.

  “Enough!” he shouted. This was unreal. A nightmare! “I want to wake up,” he said with force, hoping to dispel the dream. The painful echo subsided, and he heard the sound of a child crying. A mournful, heartbroken mewling.

  “Andy?” he asked, his gaze searching the room. A door stood closed on the right wall and he went to it. Expecting it to be locked, he yanked on the handle and almost fell on his ass as the door swung open.

  He paused on the threshold to the master bedroom. John lay supine on the bed with Andy sitting cross-legged beside him, staring at Jamie with wide frightened eyes. He reached his little arms toward him. “Jamie! Daddy won’t wake up.” Tears streamed down his face and he hiccupped. Jamie realized he’d been crying for some time.

  “It’s okay. I’m here,” he reassured, and stepped with care into the room. As Jamie anticipated, the door smashed closed behind him, making Andy yelp in surprise. This had to be a dream. Jamie just had to get them through it and everything would be all right. He edged closer to the bed, conscious that the light in the room was changing, becoming a greenish mist. The walls bowed in. The nightmare was coming.

  Jamie froze and stared at the darkness under the bed. Oh God. When he was a child, Dad had laughed at him, saying there were no monsters, though Jamie heard them scratching in the middle of the night. The sound of nails scraping the hardwood floor reached him now, rousing his childhood terror. If he moved, the creature would hear him.

  “Jamie?” Andy reached for him, scooting toward the edge of the bed. No! The thing would reach up and grab him. Holding back a sob of fear, Jamie took two running steps and jumped for the mattress. He whimpered when something brushed his foot, but then he was safely on the blankets. Andy crawled into his lap, wrapping his little arms around his neck.

  “I got you,” Jamie told him, hugging him back. “Let’s see how your dad is.”

  Assuring himself that his friend still breathed, Jamie patted John’s cheeks, shaking him to see if he’d wake up. But like Nico, he didn’t stir. Piter must want them like this. But why?

  He started at a thump and scraping sound under the bed; then, to his horror, he heard the creak of a door. Tremors ran through him as fear slithered up his back. He didn’t want to look but his gaze was drawn to the closet beside the bed. An inch of blackness showed, then more as the door swung on its hinges. Jamie’s heart galloped. If a clown jumped out….

  A form appeared in the doorway, stepped into the room, and it took Jamie’s horrified brain a moment to register what he was seeing. A hairy beast, with horns and cloven hooves, stood on two legs. It bared its fangs, and Jamie was reminded forcefully of the monsters from his childhood nightmares, the ones conjured by the “Li
ttle Orphant Annie” poem by James Whitcomb Riley his older cousins had tormented him with. Had the goblins finally come to “git” him?

  Instinctively, he grabbed Andy and pressed his face against his shoulder. “Don’t look,” he warned, his own gaze riveted on the beast nearing the bed. The boy squirmed but Jamie held him tight. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. Just don’t look at it. It’s not real.”

  “But I am,” the thing hissed, its gravelly voice sending a shudder through Jamie. It waved a clawed hand. “Sleep.”

  Jamie’s heart thumped when Andy fell limp in his arms. “Andy?” He laid him on the bedspread next to his father. Andy wouldn’t wake up when he called his name.

  The creature’s laugh was horrifying. He strode to the edge of the bed and Jamie moved back. He darted a glance at the closed door to the den. Could he make it before the thing caught him? A scrabbling sound drew his gaze downward. Long twisted arms stretched from under the bed, the wickedly sharp claws flexing as they reached for him.

  With a shout of panic and horror, Jamie scrambled for the head of the bed, pressing his back to the carved headboard as the goblin mounted the mattress and crawled toward him. It lifted its heavy head, the wild green eyes pinning Jamie in place as it came up to him. He felt frozen by the creature’s stare, unable to raise his arms in defense. Jamie’s chest heaved, and he fought a scream as the thing climbed onto his lap and straddled him, its weight holding him captive.

  “What do you want?” he managed to whisper, fear tight in his throat. The others slept. Why did the thing keep him awake?

  A wicked grin widened the creature’s mouth and a black tongue snaked out, licked at Jamie’s lips, trying to gain access while Jamie pressed them together. With a grunt the goblin lifted its clawed hands and pinched Jamie’s nipples through his shirt, twisting and plucking at the buds until Jamie’s head swam as pain and pleasure surged along his nerves to his growing cock. He gasped at a sudden painful pull and the decadent tongue plunged into his mouth, tasting overripe.

  The thing paused. “Say please,” it hissed, then seized Jamie’s lips again, fucking his mouth with its sugary black tongue. Something hard ground against Jamie’s swollen dick, through his pants, and he glanced down, his mind reeling at the long pale cock arching from the dark curls between the monster’s legs. It looked impossibly thick.

  “Beg,” the goblin commanded, and shoved its tongue into Jamie’s mouth, down his throat. He couldn’t breathe! The creature continued to pluck the nubs on his chest, grind against him, and black specks swam into Jamie’s vision. He sobbed, needing air, his chest burning as the pressure built.

  The tongue eased out of his throat and he drew in great lungfuls of air. “Please,” he whimpered, not caring what he asked for as long as he could breathe.

  “Yes.” The creature leaned against him, its fur warm against Jamie’s body. The thing’s tongue flicked over his jawline, tickled his ear, then somehow the goblin entered his mind.

  “No!” Jamie tried to resist. These were his most intimate fantasies. Stay out!

  THE CREATURE stripped off Jamie’s clothes and rolled him to his stomach on the bed. A swat hit his ass and Jamie flinched at the sting, his cock hardening. “On your knees,” the goblin hissed, and Jamie scooted forward, head on the pillows, knees spread. Clawed hands gripped the globes of his ass, opening him up.

  “Please,” Jamie whimpered, not wanting this, but the creature merely laughed, knowing the truth. It had crawled into the deepest corner of Jamie’s mind and burrowed out the erotic dreams he kept hidden from everyone.

  Oh God, it couldn’t wait to feel that thick member push inside him, opening him up wider than he’d ever been, filling the empty spaces. It would almost split him in two, the pain and intense pressure as it shoved inside him, driving him relentlessly into ecstasy. Just as he’d always dreamed….

  What? Jamie struggled with that image. It wasn’t true. Not his dream. Not even in his darkest fantasies had he imagined being taken by this horrible creature. Familiar, mocking laughter echoed in the room. Piter!

  Rage boiled through him. “Get out of my head,” he hissed, struggling against the goblin’s hold. But Piter crouched over him in the shape of this demon and bit his shoulder as he began to push into him. No!

  They both jumped when the door burst open across the room, crashing against the wall. “Stop!”

  JAMIE FOUND himself pinned against the headboard, still fully clothed. The goblin still straddled him, staring with Piter’s wild green eyes. It raised a clawed hand to Jamie’s face and Jamie cried out as it pressed a nail beside his eye.

  The black tongue licked at his tears. “You’ve escaped me twice, Jamie. Next time you’ll be mine,” the goblin promised. It turned suddenly as the figure in the doorway sprang toward them. A sack appeared in the goblin’s hands. With a snarl of triumph, it drew it over Andy’s head, down his body. Scooping him into his arms, the creature leaped from the bed and disappeared, taking Andy with him.

  Jamie blinked at the spot, and raised his face when Nico came up to the bed. “Where did they go?”

  “I don’t know. Dio! I should have woken up earlier.”

  Jamie watched as Nico’s gaze darted everywhere but into his eyes. He crawled to the edge of the bed, careful of the sleeping doctor. “This isn’t your fault.”

  Nico shook his head and Jamie spoke urgently. “Nico! Look at me.” His heart dropped when Nico flinched. “I don’t blame you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  NICO TRIED to control the fury pounding through him. But Piter had almost fucked Jamie. He’d failed him. He would kill Piter….

  “Nico! Talk to me.” A dark blush colored Jamie’s face. “You saw what that monster was doing to me.”

  Nico tightened his hand into a fist. “Yes.”

  “Oh God, Nico, he climbed right into my mind! I couldn’t stop him. He was terrifying in that form.” He dragged in a breath. “I hated it, feeling so helpless. And those were not my fantasies you witnessed. They were his, using me for his own pleasure.”

  Nico choked. “Enough. I know the creature well. Are you hurt?” He placed a kiss on the teardrop of blood beside Jamie’s eye.

  “Nowhere else, Nico, I swear.”

  Nico’s heart constricted. Jamie was trying to comfort him, after what he’d just endured? Nico cupped his face. “Piter is in a dangerous mood,” he warned. “He’ll search Andy’s and his father’s minds for a place they find disturbing and take the boy there.”

  Jamie’s eyes were wide open, vulnerable, fear lingering in the blue depths. Nico quickly took his hands. “My brave angel,” he murmured. “This is going to be very hard for you. Piter has seen your fantasies, but he’s also glimpsed your nightmares. I wish I could spare you, but Piter can be cruel. Are you ready?”

  “I think so—” As if hearing his own hesitation, Jamie firmed his expression. “Yes. I want to stop him. Nico, he can’t go on hurting us like this.”

  The hint of his returning spirit filled Nico with pride.

  “You’re my light against Piter’s darkness,” he murmured into his ear.

  Jamie’s expression turned anxious when he looked down at the doctor sprawled on the bed. “Can you wake him? He didn’t respond when I tried earlier.”

  “Perhaps.” Nico sat on the edge of the bed and touched the back of his hand to Dr. Meiden’s temple. “He feels cold. Can you run and make some hot tea? And stir up the fire. We’ll need to warm him straight away. We need him alert to help us find the boy.”

  Jamie hesitated, clearly wanting to stay, but nodded and left the bedroom. Nico swallowed a sigh. It was better if Jamie didn’t see what he was about to do. He put his hands on either side of the doctor’s face and pressed their foreheads together. Gathering his strength, he focused all his thought on one word. “Wake.”

  The man stirred under his hands but Piter’s hold was strong, and he didn’t come back from his dreams. Drawing a deep breath, Nico settled into the battle, willing Jo
hn back to consciousness. Sweat beaded on his brow and he began to shake with effort. Wake! The doctor’s body jolted and suddenly the man gasped, struggled to sit up, bewildered. Nico moved back from him, studying his confused brown eyes. “Do you know where you are?”

  John blinked and looked around the room. Anxiety swept his face. “I’m in my bedroom. Where’s Andy?” Nico climbed to his feet and John scrambled after him, standing toe to toe, anger and fear warring in his eyes. “Why are you in here, and where’s my son?”

  “Piter has—”

  “Dammit!” John turned and ran for the door, flinging it open and rushing down the hallway. Nico followed, hoping Jamie wouldn’t catch the brunt of John’s fury. Hearing the doctor’s shout and Jamie’s quick denial, he rushed around the corner and joined them in the kitchen. Jamie had paused in pouring hot water into the teapot. His distress seemed to drain the anger from John and he slumped against the counter, folding his arms on his chest. “What’s going on? Where’s Andy?”

  Jamie flashed Nico a glance, then set the teakettle back on the burner. “Piter snatched him before we could stop him, but we’ll get Andy back. I promise.”

  “He won’t hurt the boy.” Nico moved to stand beside Jamie, who slipped a hand into his. Nico squeezed it gently. “Piter’s mind is powerful. He was able to make me sleep, you as well, and confuse Jamie, giving him enough time to take the boy. But we can get him back with your help.”

  “Me?” Nico watched the doctor fight his suspicion, his expressive face settling into determined lines. “Of course. What do I need to do?”

  Nico nodded, relieved by John’s firm response. “First off, we need to decide where Piter might have taken the boy. Is there any place in the area that Andy doesn’t like? Better yet, is there a place that leaves you unsettled? Piter thrives on the fear he can arouse in us.”