by Kody Boye
“You were with—”
“Cortez himself,” Amadeo nodded. He finished the wine and then started for another, but stopped when he couldn’t keep his hand from shaking. “Long story short: I participated in one of the most horrible events in human history, was so wracked with guilt that I could barely stand it, and fled through Central America until I eventually found the Norwegian Kaldr settled along the east coast.”
“But pilgrims didn’t arrive until—”
“One-hundred years later. Yes. I understand.”
“But if there’d been Europeans in the New World before the Pilgrims, wouldn’t it have been—” I paused when it hit me. Amadeo’s somber smile only further solidified my notion. “It wouldn’t’ve even mattered,” I said.
“Because the Kaldr would not have wanted anyone to find them,” he said. He stopped the bottle and set it to the side. “I don’t feel it necessary to discuss my transformation, if that is all right. It’s personal to everyone.”
“I know. Don’t worry.”
“But yes—I was afraid. Deathly so, in fact. But my condition wouldn’t have allowed me any other choice. I fell ill, was on the verge of death, and was saved by Elliot Winters on the night of the great moon. That is that.”
I nodded. Setting my feet on the floor, I pushed myself off the stool and backed away from the counter. “Thank you for your time,” I said.
“You need not be worried, Jason. Guy is a good man. I’m sure you already know that.”
“Yes sir. I do.”
“Don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything. I want this to be as comfortable as possible.”
“Thank you.”
Amadeo bowed his head and spun to return the wine to its shelf.
While I made my way out of the kitchen and back toward the stairs, thoughts of Amadeo’s past continued to haunt me.
I’d been given a choice.
Though love—or, at least, what I assumed was love—had bound Elliot and Amadeo, it had been death that had forced upon them the necessary choice.
I closed my eyes.
The stairs creaked beneath my weight.
Outside, the light rain pattered on.
I sighed.
Nothing was holding me here.
I had a choice.
When I stopped to consider how many people hadn’t, it only solidified that I was staying for the right reasons.
I couldn’t be afraid now.
This was my future.
I lay awake that night. Cold, alone, and uneasy at how empty the bed felt—I listened to the rain as over the course of several hours it transformed from a light shower to a roaring thunderstorm in which the sky turned gray and barks of lightning shattered the sky. It was enormous. Its intensity was almost enough to drown the thoughts from my head, but not enough to keep me from thinking about everything that would occur tomorrow night.
Where? I kept on wondering. When?
Grief drove me from bed and to the far side of the flat. Past the kitchen, and down a hall to the left, lay an office in which the majority of Guy’s more material belongings were held. Flushed against one wall was a desk, atop which was a rectangular lamp that cast a vibrant array of light across the room. I flicked this on with a simple click of a switch and settled into a chair I’d not sat in before with a sigh—hands instantly reaching for my hair, elbows automatically planting themselves on the wooden desktop. The fact that I was in here was somewhat outrageous, considering I’d kept away from his personal affairs even after his proclamations that he had nothing to hide, but at that moment, I could care less.
My real reasons for being here were selfish.
I wanted to be close to him.
Here, in this place—in this office—where all his books, old study materials, and even a typewriter were kept, lay an essence I could not deny.
Guy was just as alive here as he was in the flesh, standing right next to me with his hand around my shoulders.
It was funny. I’d always told myself I wouldn’t let myself get wrapped up in a guy while I had my own dreams going on. Now here I was sitting in Guy’s office, in the middle of hill country, living a life I’d never intended.
And now I was planning to dedicate myself to him forever.
“‘Til death do us part,” I mumbled.
Was that why the priests said it at the weddings? To imply the severity of the bond?
I leaned back and cast my eyes to the ceiling, the office chair adjusting with my posture at a diagonal. I kept trying to convince myself of any worth I had in my new and strange existence, yet couldn’t find anything to grasp onto.
In the real world, had I not been expelled, I would’ve been an English major—a teacher, maybe middle or high school, teaching students the importance of literature and the necessary skills of writing. I’d get a paycheck, live in my own apartment or, God willing, a house. I’d eventually find a boyfriend and we’d move in together, maybe move elsewhere if we wanted to adopt a kid. I’d live, eat, breathe and die a normal man. Here, though… everything was up for question.
Kaldr, werewolves, vampires—nothing made sense anymore.
But was it supposed to?
I lay my head atop the desk and stared at the Newton’s Cradle that swung before me.
Transfixed by its rhythm, I eventually lost sight of the outside world.
It wasn’t long before I passed out.
I awoke the next morning to the sound of clicking.
Tick tick tick.
Tick tick tick.
I opened my eyes to find I had awoken in a completely different place. Confused, disoriented, and wondering why I was anywhere else but Guy’s room, I lifted my head to discover that I had fallen asleep at Guy’s desk and that it had been the Cradle that pulled me from sleep.
Though I was quick to question why I was here, it didn’t take me long to find out.
Last night—here, alone, without Guy—
The rain—
The weight of the situation came barreling down, dropping on top of me before bouncing back up like a comical piano in a children’s cartoon.
The mating ceremony—
It was tonight.
My expected reaction had been to freak out and immediately be filled with anxiety. Instead, I was surprisingly calm—a fact absolutely-mystifying considering my usual behavior.
I was good though.
I wasn’t freaking out.
I pushed myself out of the desk and wandered from the office with a sense of relief I wish I’d had the previous night. Though nearly blinded by the sun that streamed in through the living room windows, I stalked into the kitchen and pulled out a jug of orange juice, relishing the tang that slid down my throat as my body slowly began to wake up.
The day was to be relished.
The night would bring change.
I hadn’t been given any specifics as to when the ceremony would occur. I’d only been told that I would be escorted to the chamber in the early hours of the evening and to prepare myself as I would for any intimate situation. Beyond that, I was as ignorant as could be.
Dressing, though—that hadn’t been addressed.
The only clothes I’d brought with me were what Guy had bought in Fredericksburg. While I didn’t slight their quality, I highly doubted they’d be appropriate.
Oh well. Then again, it didn’t really matter. I couldn’t do much about it. And besides—they’d all be off by the end of the night.
I chuckled.
It was astounding how fast I had gone from being perpetually-terrified to only slightly-nervous.
While the hour had yet to come, I had more than enough time to reminisce on just how it might go.
An hour before dusk, I readied myself for the ceremony as best I could. Shaving my face, filing down my nails, cleansing myself of worries with water and several shots of vodka from the bottle I’d found in Guy’s cabinet—I looked at myself in the mirror and examined every facet of myself. From my clean-shaven face, t
o the simple, button-down shirt, to a pair of jeans lifted from Guy’s teenage days, I looked completely the part.
Human.
It seemed odd to be presenting myself in front of the tribe without actually initiating myself into their midst. Yet here I was—dressed casually and without regret, preparing to submit to a life of obedience, and I had absolutely no qualms.
I’d made up my mind.
This was my future—here, on this ranch, with Guy, amidst the Kaldr, and away from the rest of humanity.
I lowered my head and took a deep breath.
While not one for faith, I took a moment to send my thoughts to any willing god that would listen and prayed that everything would be all right.
A knock came at the door.
I lifted my head from the bedroom mirror and cast my eyes across the flat.
It was time.
I swigged the last swallow of my water and strode across the flat with confidence, pausing only to slide my shoes onto my feet and brace myself for the evening before I opened the door. Amadeo stood in the threshold, dressed finely in robes much like the one I’d seen in Guy’s bedroom.
“Amadeo,” I said, shocked.
“I will be your envoy,” he said. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I secured the door behind me and followed Amadeo through the house.
He led me into the living room and then through an interweaving series of halls I’d only recalled being in after being attacked by Missy Sue. Branched off at the far side of the house, directly beneath where Elliot and Amadeo’s quarters were situated, I was directed down a long, blank hall painted mutely in shades of hospital-reminiscent white and turned beyond a pair of metal doors locked into place with iron bars.
From there, we descended into a basement.
Darkness quickly overwhelmed us.
“Keep hold of the railing,” Amadeo said, “and you’ll be fine.”
I didn’t question the motive behind the secrecy. I merely took hold of the metal and wrapped my fingers around it to secure my grip.
After a short while, there came a pause in Amadeo’s footsteps where, I assumed, our entrance had to be. The electronic click of what sounded like a keypad echoed through the tight space before a door unsnapped and was then pushed open.
Inside was a room made to resemble a spherical chamber.
At the far end, a fixture hung from the ceiling, from which dangled a series of curtains.
“This is it,” Amadeo said. “We’re here.”
I stepped into the room and allowed my eyes to adjust to the pale lighting emanating from sconces on the walls. Cast in blue, the room appeared ancient—only bolstered by the skypane that formed a perfect circle over the curtain fixture.
The door closed behind me.
A bar slid into place.
The unexpected chill of many Kaldr whispered about my body.
It only took a moment to realize what was behind the curtain.
Stepping forward, I bridged the distance between me and a threshold defined only by a circle inlaid within the stone floor and watched the curtains fall open.
He lay on a circular stone bed, upon which a slight mattress and only a few amenities lay. His torso laid plain, his hips shrouded by a sheet, Guy watched as I stepped forward with eyes that glowed like distant stars in a place I could never hope to see.
“Jason,” he said.
In such a small space, his voice echoed off the walls and rebounded through my head, startling my conscience and jarring my person from the ethereal sight before me. I took notice of several other eyes standing all around—watching, waiting, beneath hoods that should have hidden their gazes but didn’t because of the glow illuminating them.
My eyes instinctively fell to Guy.
He lifted his arm and extended his hand. “Come,” he said.
There was no gravity in the situation. I merely obeyed.
The bed was cold beneath my hands as I guided myself onto the mattress and hovered over Guy’s prone body, staring into his eyes and reveling in the energy pooling from him. Here, the chill had become immense—to the point where had I not been clothed I imagined every hair on me would’ve stood on end—but it was so dwarfed by my longing for him that I felt nothing. I pressed my palm to his cheek, cupped my fingers along his neck, then leaned forward.
So close, I could feel the winter upon his breath.
“Jason,” he whispered.
I kissed him.
The response was immediate.
My body lit on fire.
I took hold of his face and guided him upright as I probed his mouth with my tongue and lavished in every aspect of his person. His hands set at my ribcage, his chest pressed and level with mine—I could feel his hardness pressing against the confines of my jeans and I slid back to allow his fingers to part my shirt.
Almost immediately, his mouth found my nipple.
I could’ve screamed.
Cold fire laced his lips.
I let out a gasp and ripped my arms free of my shirt.
His hands found my waist and he guided me onto the mattress.
His lips fell on my neck, my arms, my wrist, my abdomen. When he slid my jeans off and I came free of my boxers, his teeth grazed my inner thighs and my eyes instantly rolled into the back of my head, my cock throbbing for mercy as he teased his way toward my groin.
His lips caught the underside of my balls and his tongue rolled around my shaft.
I couldn’t help but cry out as he took me into his mouth.
What I thought would have been a completely awkward experience was shadowed by his passions upon me. His fingers applying pressure behind my balls, his mouth taking me in, then out of his throat—his free hand found my hole and he applied pressure, but did not penetrate me with his thumb.
I thrust into his mouth and nearly screamed when he pulled out.
“Jason,” he managed, gasping.
My only response was to fall to my knees and swallow him whole.
He held me there for several moments, reveling in the pulsating muscles of my throat, before pulling out, turning, and planting himself on the bed—hands flat, legs spread.
“Fuck me,” he said.
I was so far gone I didn’t even care about the whispers in the room as I hocked a glob of spit across his opening, taking care to slick myself with lubricant before I prepared him with my finger.
My initial entry was unexpected.
I couldn’t believe how tight he was.
“Fuck,” Guy groaned.
“You like that?” I asked, easing myself in and out and applying extra fingers when I felt him ready. “You ready for that cock in your ass?”
“God yes, Jason. Fuck. Oh God. FUCK!”
I added a third finger and fucked him leisurely, allowing time for him to adjust before pulling out and mounting him as he lowered his chest and raised his ass.
Bracing one hand on his back and the other around my cock, I guided myself forward, then entered.
I swore louder than I should have.
He was so fucking tight.
I waited. Consumed by the need to push further, I braced my hands along his hips and coaxed the animalistic nature Guy’s Kaldr spirit had inspired within me down by running my hands along his hips, pushing in more when directed and waiting when not. Given our position, Guy was completely at my mercy, though whether or not that’d been planned I couldn’t tell.
When I was finally in all the way—and right down to the balls—I held myself there and waited for his instruction.
His push indicated it all.
I started thrusting.
The chill in the room had increased substantially since we’d started having sex. Warmed only by the clash of our bodies and the sweat rolling down my shoulders, I kept a steady rhythm and guided him up onto his hands and knees when I felt I needed leverage. Hands locked around his shoulders, I thrusted—harder, first by his instruction, then by my own ne
ed—before he had us roll over and fuck on our sides.
“Doin’ ok?” I whispered in his ear as I thrust into him.
He grunted and jacked himself harder.
I took that as a sign and heightened my pace.
The slap of flesh spurred me to fuck him harder as I became aware of the pace we were taking. His grunts and slight cries rolling about the room, his hips responding to mine, I pulled out and rolled him onto his back only to enter him as quickly as I’d left.
In this position, I leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to his mouth.
“I’m gonna come,” I said, slamming my hips against his.
“God yeah Jason. Give it to me! Ugh! Fuck! My God—”
Guy’s ass locked around me and streams of come fired from his cock.
The resulting pressure drove me to orgasm.
I continued to fuck him as the orgasm started to subside and wrapped my arms about his body as he sat up and wrapped his legs around my hips. Our lips intertwined, the piston in my hips fading by the second, I pulled away from his mouth and bowed my head into his neck.
Spent, I sat there, softening inside him and reveling in the aftermath.
“Is it over?” I asked.
“It’s done,” Guy said.
I pulled away and looked into his eyes.
The same marks I had seen during our encounter with the Kelda decorated his body—stark against his skin, trailing from his eye and lips.
Around us, the Kaldr began to file out.
“It is done,” Amadeo said. “Jason DePella. From this day forth, you will be known as the bóndi of the Svell Kaldr Guy Winters, otherwise known as husband. May your bond be forever and strong.”
I looked up just in time to see Amadeo give us a somber nod before directing a very-irate Elliot Winters from the room.
Pulling out, I drew up alongside Guy and wrapped an arm around him.
“They didn’t expect that,” I said. “Did they?”
“No,” Guy whispered. “They didn’t.”
We returned to the room in the later hours of the night and showered before departing for bed. Nestled against Guy’s body, one arm braced under my pillow and the other draped across his side, I listened to his pale sighs and stroked the fine hairs on his abdomen as I tried to imagine what might happen come the following day.