by Ari McKay
“A size queen is someone who is inordinately impressed by a large penis,” he drawled. “You’d be amazed at how some demons think they look more menacing if they manifest a cock half as long as their body. One almost killed me early in my own training because I started laughing so hard I got sloppy about defense.”
Thomas’s frown deepened, and he opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, and then he shut it again. Julian watched in fascination.
“Oh, come on, what were you going to say?” he teased. “And if it’s to tell me yours is that long, I am going to have to ask for proof.”
“What?” Thomas’s cheeks flushed pink, and he shook his head. “No, I just….” He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, although he never took his eyes off Julian. “I was going to ask why size mattered, but I figured it wasn’t a good time to ask about gay sex since we’re in the middle of sparring.”
Julian was speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met a true innocent. Even Harlan, who had still been a virgin at a mind-boggling age, at least knew how the process worked, even if he’d never experienced it. And now here was Thomas, who knew he was gay but apparently didn’t know what to do about it.
If there was one role Julian had never imagined himself playing, it was that of sex educator. And explaining it to Thomas, in particular, he found disturbing for reasons he didn’t want to examine.
He looked at Thomas, not quite knowing what to say, and he found himself noticing the sheen of sweat on Thomas’s skin, the way his face was flushed from a combination of exertion and embarrassment, the way his muscles flexed and rippled with each tiny movement. Vampires also had excellent senses of smell, and as he drew in a breath, he couldn’t help but pick up the scents of sweat and soap and Thomas’s skin.
Shit.
It had taken a great deal of willpower to avoid noticing Thomas as a desirable man every time they were together. His mental argument that Thomas was too young wasn’t working terribly well, since Thomas was almost the same age Whimsy had been when he’d become one of Julian’s lovers. But a gulf as wide as the Grand Canyon yawned between Whimsy’s and Thomas’s sexual experience. No, Julian couldn’t let himself give in to the temptation to take Thomas to bed and show him how two men could give each other pleasure. No matter how much he wanted to do just that.
Realizing he needed to say more, he drew in a breath. “I can find some books for you, I suppose. Or maybe you could talk to Whimsy, since he’s close to your age. I imagine it’s only natural you’d be curious.”
“Yes, I am.”
Julian summoned up a wry smile from somewhere, but he was having to force himself not to think about Thomas as a lover. Despite finding Thomas incredibly attractive, he’d tried hard to think of Thomas as simply another student, one of many Julian had trained over the centuries. “I’ll see about those books. It was probably inappropriate for me to be teasing you anyway. It’s just been a long time since I had a student.” He’d helped to train Whimsy in combat, but Whimsy had been his lover, so the teasing had already been part of their dynamic.
Thomas stood up straight and approached Julian until he stood close enough that Julian could feel the heat of exertion radiating off his skin. He transferred the knives to one hand and touched Julian’s arm lightly. “I don’t mind if you tease me,” he said. “I like it. There wasn’t a lot of laughter in Grandpa’s house.”
Thomas’s warmth drew Julian like a magnet. One of the things he’d enjoyed most in his relationship with Arden and Whimsy had been having two warm bodies pressed against him in his big bed. Absorbing their warmth had made him feel almost alive again. Even in the sun, he rarely felt any warmer in the day than he did at night, no matter what the temperature of the air. After the advent of electricity, he’d occasionally slept with an electric blanket, but he vastly preferred having another body provide the heat.
He knew he should step away, but he couldn’t. Or at least, he didn’t want to. To be honest, he was missing the relationship he’d had with his lovers more than he liked to admit. No matter that he had his periodic need to withdraw and be alone; for over a century he’d had someone willing to share his body and his warmth whenever Julian desired, and he felt rather bereft now that he had no one.
Forcing himself to focus on Thomas’s words rather than his proximity, Julian sighed. “I’m sorry about that. Micah changed so much. He was never exactly the life of the party, but he could laugh. When your parents died, I think a part of Micah died too.”
“I don’t remember him any other way.” Thomas curled his fingers around Julian’s forearm and shifted closer. “That’s why I like hanging out with Arden and Whimsy and why I like it when you tease me. It’s a new dynamic for me, and I enjoy it.”
“Even when I say things you don’t understand?” Julian asked. “I hope you know it’s not deliberate or that I’m trying to make you feel inadequate.” Thomas was obviously smart and determined, and Julian had taught enough people over the centuries to know that it served no purpose to make a student feel completely outclassed, either physically or mentally.
“I know,” Thomas said, offering a reassuring smile. “You’re a good teacher, Julian. If I don’t know something, I’ll ask you. But I also know there’s a time and a place for everything, which is why I didn’t intend to ask about gay sex in the middle of a sparring session,” he added dryly.
“Thank you.” Julian nodded again, then forced himself to look at Thomas sternly. “And you’re right. We should get back to the sparring. I’m not going to be comfortable with you returning to the farm—or getting a place of your own, if that’s what you decide—until I know you can protect yourself.”
Thomas dropped his hand back to his side and looked away. “I don’t want to be left on my own either.”
Julian got the feeling he’d said something wrong, and he missed the contact of Thomas’s warm hand. Before he’d even thought about it, he reached out, putting his fingers under Thomas’s chin, urging him to look back around. He knew he shouldn’t do it, but Thomas had suffered so many losses, and Julian couldn’t live with himself if he added to Thomas’s sense of alienation. “I’m not saying you have to leave. Certainly not until you’re ready. I just figured that you’d want to at some point. Have a chance to be on your own and live your life on your own terms. Be young.”
Thomas met Julian’s gaze again, and Julian could see an old soul in the depth of Thomas’s eyes. “I’m living on my own terms now,” he said. “I don’t think being young and carefree is an option. I’m a demon hunter, which means I have bigger responsibilities, and I’m fine with that. I like having a clear purpose that goes beyond growing crops.”
Something in Thomas’s eyes seemed to reach out to him, and Julian didn’t think he could have looked away if he’d wanted to. And he didn’t. Strangely enough, even though on the surface they were incredibly different—the jaded, paranoid old vampire and the young, innocent demon hunter—Julian felt a connection to Thomas he hadn’t felt to anyone else. Julian hadn’t even felt this kind of resonance with Arden, and Arden knew him better than anyone. Something in Thomas was the same as what Julian had at his core—the need to protect not just individuals, but everything.
Vampires didn’t form mating bonds, and neither did demon hunters. Yet Julian thought he might at last have at least some sense of what it must be like for Arden and Eli, for Harlan and Whimsy. But what had been relatively sure and easy for those two couples was something different for him. None of them had to face the fact that they were responsible for the deaths of three of the most important people in Thomas’s life.
For the past twenty years, ever since James’s and Alicia’s deaths, Julian had lived with guilt. How could he even think about staking a claim on their son when Julian had the burden of their tragic, untimely loss on his soul? And while Micah’s paranoia had contributed to his own end, it still weighed on Julian that the old man had been coming to meet him when he’d been ambushed.
>
He didn’t know how long he’d been staring at Thomas, feeling a pull a part of him longed to give in to. How easy would it be to step closer, to take Thomas in his arms and claim his lips? As easy as breathing.
It was also completely unthinkable.
He wanted to pull away, to flee somewhere he could be alone to rage against the irony that when he finally found someone who could be more than a lover to him, it was the one person he couldn’t allow himself to desire. Thomas was his responsibility. He owed that to James and Alicia, and even to Micah. He couldn’t selfishly keep Thomas for himself. He must aid Thomas in his destiny—he couldn’t protect him from it.
Unable to move forward and unwilling to step away, Julian felt torn between duty and desire for the first time. He was trapped in a stalemate, and he didn’t know what he would have done if the ringing of his cell phone hadn’t broken him from his paralysis.
“Damn it!” he growled, ashamed of his relief. He smiled apologetically at Thomas, then reached into the pocket of the fatigue pants he normally wore for sparring, retrieving his phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, Julian,” Whimsy said, an edge of worry in his voice. “We’ve got a problem.”
“Uh-oh.” Julian looked at Thomas. “Just a second, Whims. Thomas is here. Let me put you on speaker so you can tell us both at once.” He touched the screen. “Go ahead.”
“Harlan just called me from the Carter farm,” Whimsy said. “He found a glyph in one of the back fields. He said he went looking for a cow that had escaped through a hole in a fence, and the glyph had been inscribed on the ground using its blood and entrails. He texted me a photo, and it looked a lot like the glyph y’all found with the dead alpha werewolf.”
Even though Julian was cold by nature, the finger of dread that trailed along his spine was the temperature of Arctic ice. “They’re back. And they didn’t waste any time.” Julian had been worried that the demons would come back to the farm, and Whimsy had been adamant that the farmhouse, barns, and closest fields where Harlan would be working be warded as heavily as possible, and had called upon Brianna and her coven to assist with the spells. Now it looked as though the precaution hadn’t just been a case of Julian’s paranoia in action.
“That’s what it looks like to me,” Whimsy said. “I’m going to meet up with Eli and Arden, and we’ll pick up some salt and holy water. Harlan’s going to wait at the farmhouse. Do you and Thomas want to join us?”
Julian looked at Thomas. “It’s still daylight, so it should be safe enough. But I warn you, it won’t be pleasant.”
“I’ve got to face such things sooner or later, right?” Thomas said. “Besides, that’s still my property. I want to know what’s going on.”
Julian nodded. “All right. Whimsy, we’ll be there. If you’re bringing the salt and holy water, I’ll bring the feather, just in case.”
“Sounds good. I’ll send you the photo too,” Whimsy said. “See you soon.”
“Right.” Julian ended the call, then looked at Thomas somberly. Things were headed downhill quickly, but at least it was a distraction. “You’ll need to change. I have a Kevlar vest I want you to wear, and you should bring your knives. I wish we’d had time for more training before this, but unfortunately neither the Unholy nor the Most High seem to care about mortal wishes.”
“What should I wear?” Thomas asked.
“I’ll give you a pair of fatigue pants like mine,” Julian replied. They hadn’t gone back to the farm to get any of Thomas’s belongings, and the clothes Julian had loaned Thomas were mostly jeans and button-down shirts. “The vest is more comfortable over a T-shirt, but you don’t have to wear anything over it if you don’t want to.”
“I’ll take one of your T-shirts,” Thomas said, and Julian thought he saw a heated gleam in Thomas’s eyes before he focused his attention on sheathing his knives.
Julian hoped he was wrong about what he’d seen. It was hard enough desiring Thomas as it was; knowing Thomas returned his interest would be agonizing. “All right. I’ll pick out a few things and bring them to your room.”
“Thank you,” Thomas said, and then he left the room just as Julian’s phone beeped, signaling a text message.
Julian glanced down, feeling a tight knot of dread in his gut as he looked at the glyph. It was definitely similar to the one they’d found beneath the corpse of the sacrificed werewolf alpha in Georgia two years before. It was likely the possessed shifters who’d twice escaped their efforts to capture or kill them were back, and up to their old tricks. What was even more frightening was that it seemed they were no longer hiding their activities. Leaving a glyph and possibly summoning a demon on the Carter farm was a direct challenge. Julian didn’t know if whoever or whatever was directing the shifters in the last several months knew about Thomas, but Julian had to assume the worst. Which meant that taking Thomas to the farm might be the most foolish thing they could do.
Foolish or not, Julian couldn’t keep Thomas from this. He needed to know what he faced, because ignorance was probably his greatest enemy at this point.
Sighing, Julian slipped the phone back into his pocket, then headed toward the stairs. Once in his room, he selected appropriate clothing for Thomas, then crossed the hall to Thomas’s bedroom and knocked on the door.
A few moments later Thomas opened the door, clutching a towel around his waist. His blond curls were damp, and his skin was pink as if from heat.
“I hopped in the shower right quick,” Thomas said as he moved aside to let Julian in. “I didn’t want to put on clean clothes when I was all sweaty.”
Julian froze for a moment. He couldn’t stop himself from gazing at Thomas, from his well-shaped feet all the way up to the unruly hair Julian suddenly wanted to bury his fingers in. He could feel the heat radiating from Thomas, and he wanted to pull Thomas close and let the warmth seep into him. Julian felt he was gazing at heaven, but in danger of going to hell.
“Of course,” Julian heard himself say. He held out the clothing, forcing himself to act normal. “Here. Uh… I’ll go down and select a vest. Meet me in the training room, please.”
“Sure,” Thomas said, taking the clothes with one hand and still holding up his towel with the other. “I’ll be down in five minutes.”
Julian couldn’t help it if his gaze dipped to where Thomas gripped the towel. How could he, when Thomas had a golden treasure trail, drawing Julian’s gaze like a magnet? As Julian watched, a drop of water trailed down Thomas’s skin, and Julian had never wanted anything in his life as much as he wanted to fall to his knees and lick away that droplet.
“Was there something else?” Thomas’s voice was soft and husky, and he stepped closer to Julian, watching him closely.
“Else?” Julian tore his eyes away from the droplet, then shook his head as much to try to clear his mind as to answer Thomas’s question. “No, nothing. Sorry. I was… thinking about the glyph. Five minutes.” With that, he turned on his heel and hurried down the hall toward the stairs.
He needed to get a grip on himself, or the sexual frustration was going to make him do something he’d regret.
Chapter Six
BY the time Thomas rejoined him, Julian had mostly recovered his senses. Thomas was wearing Julian’s pants and black T-shirt, which stretched over his broad shoulders and pulled tight around his biceps.
“I’m ready,” Thomas said.
Julian nodded. He handed the vest to Thomas, keeping his gaze on Thomas’s face. “It goes on over your head, then fasten the buckles at the sides. You might as well get used to it, since I think you should wear a vest every time we leave the house.”
Thomas nodded and pulled on the vest without protest. Fortunately he didn’t argue when it came to issues of safety, no matter how paranoid or hovery Julian behaved. He fumbled a little with the buckles, but he got the vest on and fastened. “How’s that?”
“Good.” Julian nodded in approval, then beckoned Thomas to follow. “We’ll take my SUV. There are so
me things I need to tell you while we head to the farm.”
Several minutes later—after loading up what supplies Julian wanted—they were on the road, and while Julian had explained what had been going on more in-depth over the past few days, he wanted to make sure Thomas understood the specific situation they were walking into.
“What we’re facing now is the first salvo in their latest attempt to gate in more demons to help them find the Cauldron of Rebirth. Now that we’re past the summer solstice, the dark magic the demons use starts to gain power.”
“So these werewolves used my land to summon a demon? And if I use the feather to destroy the glyph, that demon will target me?” Thomas didn’t appear frightened or cowed by the prospect. Instead, his lips thinned into a hard, determined line. “I guess I’d better step up my training, then.”
“We can probably do in this glyph with holy water and salt,” Julian said. He was pleased with Thomas’s courage, but he didn’t want him running unnecessary risks. “It was made via animal sacrifice, which means it isn’t as powerful as the one created with the blood of a supernatural creature. This time I want you to watch and learn. You’re a demon hunter, but you can’t just rush in without knowing what might happen. Understand?”
“I understand,” Thomas said, although there was a note of disappointment in his voice.
Julian couldn’t help giving a snort of grim amusement. “Don’t worry, grasshopper, you’ll get your chance soon enough. You see, things got even worse last year. The possessed werewolves attacked and turned a group of bear shifters—and if you think a demon in a hundred-fifty-pound wolf body is bad news, one in the carcass of a six-hundred-plus-pound grizzly scares me even worse than when Harlan was possessed.”
Thomas’s expression turned contemplative. “And Whimsy cast out the demon with the feather? That explains why Harlan feels brighter than the rest of you.”