by Megan Derr
Devlin scowled and released his chin—but only to sink his hand into Midnight's hair and tilt his head back just so. "Stop being a brat, Midnight. I'm in no mood."
His heart was pounding in his chest, and he knew that Devlin's beat the very same. "I'm happy to see incarceration has not dampened your sunny disposition, Heartbeat."
"Perish the thought," Devlin muttered, then closed the space between them and kissed Midnight as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Midnight held on for dear life, dizzy with relief, with joy—with pure shock that Devlin was actually kissing him, for no good reason at all and without any coaxing whatsoever. It was much like the first time Devlin had kissed him, hard and rough, guided more by anxiety, perhaps, than anything else.
It was a good enough start, so far as Midnight was concerned. He dug his fingers deeper into the fabric of Devlin's coat, smelling him, feeling his body heat, and now he had taste to go along with everything else. The taste of Devlin this way was so different from the flavor of his blood. A familiar bitterness was there, but there was something that took the edge from it. Midnight did not think he would be able to live without it now that he had finally had it.
"Heartbeat," he said softly when they finally broke apart. "You—I—you're all right?" He felt stupid because that wasn't what he had wanted to say at all.
Devlin chuckled softly and brushed a gloved thumb over Midnight's bottom lip. "I am fine, Midnight. A bath, a good meal, and a bit of rest will set me straight. You are the one I am worried about. What is all this about you being a monster?"
Midnight turned his head away, though he immediately missed the new and strangely intimate caress. He lay his head against Devlin's chest and closed his eyes and for the moment was content simply to be there. He could feel their hearts beating, could smell and feel Devlin, and after too many hours wondering if they would live…
Arms slid around him, pressing him closer still, holding him tight, and Midnight rubbed his cheek against the soft, warm velvet of Devlin's jacket. It smelled of dust and chalk and stale magic, but also like Devlin.
"It's all right now, Midnight," Devlin said softly, and Midnight felt lips brush the top of his head. "Thank you for saving me."
"Like I had a bloody choice," Midnight replied with an unsteady laugh, still not moving from the warmth and safety of Devlin's arms. "Next time, don't go running off to pick fights with—" He abruptly stopped and tensed.
"What's wrong?" Devlin asked, relaxing his hold slowly as Midnight pulled away enough to look up at him.
Midnight replied, "Winsted is dead. Silas turned him into a draugr. I made certain he stayed dead."
"I see," Devlin said quietly, then reached out and stroked Midnight's cheek. "You have had a rough time of it, haven't you?"
In reply, Midnight merely returned to embracing Devlin tightly. He wanted more kisses, but for now it was enough to be held.
They broke apart only when there came a sharp, pounding noise from above.
Midnight managed a laugh. "I think Barra is demanding our presence. He's been worried about you, too."
Devlin nodded and slowly his arms fell away. "Come on then. I want that food and bath, and then we are going to stay in bed for a very long time."
Swallowing against an urge to ask what exactly that entailed, afraid Devlin might suddenly change his mind against all the things that kiss had promised, Midnight turned to lead the way out of the basement.
They were silent until they reached the kitchen.
"Your Grace!" Barra exclaimed. "It's good to see you well—well enough, anyway. Are you all right?"
"Quite," Devlin replied. "Thank you for saving me." He flicked his gaze to Neirin and Troyes, then to Ceadda. "All of you, especially those who had no real investment in my continued existence."
Neirin said nothing, merely nodded, but beside him Troyes rumbled in contentment.
"I am glad all is well," Ceadda said. "I hope this is the last time we must worry about the matter of Midnight."
"It will be," Devlin replied. "My thanks to you, and to the Alucard."
Ceadda waved a hand in the air. "You owe me one, Winterbourne. Until such time as I can call that favor in, I bid you good evening." With that, Ceadda was gone.
Midnight frowned. "Heartbeat, how did you know we spoke with the Alucard?"
"What?" Devlin asked with a frown of his own. "He is more or less in charge these days, my dear. The Dracula is not, shall we say, fit for company? He has gone mad, in a uniquely vampire style. The Alucard tends him loyally, but it is a battle that was lost long ago."
"I see," Midnight said, not seeing at all.
Devlin waved the discussion aside. "I should like food and a bath, if someone would please. I am damnably tired of feeling as though I have been locked in a basement."
Barra rolled his eyes but squeezed Neirin's hand before darting off to see to his demands.
Neirin drew himself up, and Midnight nearly rolled his eyes as the two immediately set to some sort of staring contest. Honestly, Devlin was wasting no time in reasserting himself as the most obnoxious person in the room.
Finally, Neirin broke their locked gazes with an unimpressed sniff. "I believe we will take care of the basement. Is there anything you want preserved?"
"His books and notes," Devlin said. "I've no doubt most of those will be sought by many a magic user. Better to control who gets the ones I choose not to keep."
Neirin nodded.
For a moment, it almost seemed as though Devlin was going to say thank you—but of course he immediately recovered himself and asked only, "I assume you are sufficiently healed? No further beatings pending?"
"I am well," Neirin replied, then turned away and approached the trap door, Troyes on his heels.
Midnight did roll his eyes then. "The two of you are the most absurd thing I have ever seen. You are obviously friends, if you would just concede the point. Friends enough I think I should be jealous, did I not know better."
Devlin stepped close, removing the space between them. Stroking the line of Midnight's cheek with one finger, he moved oh so slowly down until he was able to cup Midnight's chin again. "But you do know better, don't you, Midnight?" His voice held a… something that Midnight had never heard from him before. It was husky, and made Midnight shiver. "You always knew better."
"Well, no one else can put up with you," Midnight said, trying for levity but not really managing it. He licked his lips, feeling nervous, and realized suddenly what was so different. He was the focus of definite interest, something he had hoped for at least a thousand times a day.
Now that he was finally the object of such attention, it was more than a little overwhelming.
Devlin smirked, but for once did not voice whatever smug thought had occurred to him. Instead, he merely lowered his head and licked Midnight's lips himself.
Midnight made a startled noise, eyes going wide, and he made another noise as teeth nipped at his bottom lip. Before he could remember how to speak, however, the teasing had turned into another kiss. He sighed softly into it, opening easily as Devlin demanded full access, holding fast to the soft fabric of his coat.
"I should see to it you are locked in basements more often," he managed when they finally broke apart.
Devlin narrowed his eyes. "Do not even think about it. I hated every last bloody moment of being stuck down there." He suddenly paused, then said, "Thank you, by the way, for finding my rune. I was less than pleased to find it had been left behind in the church."
In Devlin speak, 'less than pleased' meant horribly crushed. The runes, if lost, could never be replaced, and Devlin loved his runes dearly.
"Of course," Midnight said mildly.
Devlin nodded and shifted to kiss him again, but Barra suddenly popped back into the room and Devlin froze.
Barra looked between them, then smirked. "Bath is ready, Your Grace. If you'll both remove yourselves to your rooms, I'll see about that food."
"Thank you, wolf-elf," Midnight said before Devlin could reply. He took Devlin's hand, half-afraid Devlin would pull away, but Devlin held fast and went easily when Midnight led the way from the kitchen up the stairs to their rooms.
Devlin sighed as he saw the bath and immediately began to strip. Though this was hardly the first time Midnight had seen Devlin naked, for some reason it now seemed far from harmless. Heaving a mental sigh of annoyance with himself, Midnight moved to a chair and sat down, toying with the buttons and lace of his clothes until he heard Devlin slide into the water.
"So tell me all that I have missed," Devlin said as he sank into the water with a groan of relief.
Still not quite looking at him, save for the occasional glance from beneath his eyelashes, Midnight told him all that had transpired since Devlin had been kidnapped.
Barra appeared toward the end of it all and added a comment here and there as he set down a tray of food, then moved to assist Devlin. With brisk movements he lathered up Devlin's face and set to shaving him.
When he was finished, and Devlin washed completely clean, Midnight found it more difficult than usual to stop staring. In the firelight, skin wet and hair clinging, Devlin looked completely himself again—and completely irresistible. The thought was all the sweeter for the knowledge that it seemed Devlin had given up on resisting.
Midnight tore his eyes away and pointedly ignored Barra's amusement.
"We will return to the city tomorrow," Devlin said, shrugging into a dark blue night robe. "First thing. I never want to see this bloody village again."
"What are we going to do about the women?" Midnight asked. "The old woman will be crushed to know…"
Devlin grimaced. "There is no help for it, Midnight. What's done is done. He might have been kind to them, but it was no honest kindness. The old woman will live or not. I could see her memories erased, but I do not see that doing more good than harm. Hopefully it will be enough they are alive and well and free to do as they please with this house. If not…" He shrugged. "It sounds cold, but there is only so much we can do. If I have acquired one more enemy, then so be it."
He sat down at the table and promptly began to eat, faster and less elegantly than Midnight had ever seen. "A pity you are not hungry," he teased. "It seems a shame to waste such excellent food."
"You be quiet," Devlin said tolerantly.
Barra suddenly snickered. "Speaking of excellent food, the Alucard shared a fine vintage with Midnight when we went to see him. He extended an invitation for Midnight to join him for a drink any time he should like."
Devlin's face turned into a thundercloud. "You are forbidden to go anywhere near that impertinent little upstart. Vampires, honestly. I cannot stand them."
Midnight rolled his eyes, then shot Barra a glare. "Why don't you stop trying to get me in trouble and go play with your knight and dragon, wolf-elf."
Barra snickered but gladly obeyed, leaving them alone.
Devlin pushed his plate away. "Now, I want to enjoy a sound sleep that is not magic-induced and taken on a cold floor." He stood up and strode to Midnight, holding out a hand. "Come along."
"You could say please," Midnight said, shaking his head in amusement. But he took the hand Devlin offered because Devlin had never offered a hand before.
He'd slept with Devlin a thousand times or more. As a child, he had not been able to bear being separated from Devlin for very long. Not until he was about ten had he finally been capable of sleeping through the whole day without nightmares or restlessness.
This was different. He went through the motions of removing all but his breeches and shirt only by sheer habit before sliding beneath the blankets to lie next to Devlin, who promptly dragged him close and buried his face in Midnight's hair.
It was too early yet for Midnight to feel like sleeping, but he was more than content to lie with Devlin until daylight forced his hand. "I'm glad you're back," he whispered.
No reply came, save for the soft, steady breaths that told him Devlin was already fast asleep.
Smiling faintly, Midnight curled closer and simply enjoyed being reunited with his Heartbeat.
Passion
"You never have an easy time of it, do you?" Lady Violet said with a laugh. "La, what an adventure. You should have called me for help. You reside in our territory and fall under our protection. It would have been within your rights."
"The Dracula requested that you stay out of it," Devlin replied, taking a sip of his brandy. "We managed quite well without demonic interference, thank you very much."
Lady Violet laughed again and took a sip of the dark red wine she favored when she called upon Devlin. "Indeed. The Alucard sent a note, by the way, extending his personal thanks for all that you and your companions did. He is most grateful and promises he will gladly repay the debt, should you ever call it in. " Her mouth curved in a playful smirk. "He also asked me to reiterate his invitation to Master Midnight to come and enjoy a drink should he ever feel inclined." She winked at Midnight. "He was greatly impressed by you."
Devlin scowled and set his glass down on the table with a hard clack. "Midnight will be doing no such thing, and you can tell that forward, uncouth Alucard that I said to bugger off."
Midnight caught Lady Violet's gaze and rolled his eyes. Honestly, he wished it were tomorrow night already. Barra and the others had already gone ahead to open up the country estate. He and Devlin had lingered at the townhouse only to report their adventures to Lord Tamor; or rather, his consort, who had arrived uninvited in their library half an hour ago. As was her usual style.
And, well, Midnight hoped they might manage to do certain things before daylight stole him away from Devlin, but he was not certain they would do anything much at all. Beyond a great many heated kisses, Devlin had done nothing.
Midnight attempted to return his attention to his book, but finally gave up when he realized he had been reading the same page for the past two hours. He closed it with a snap and slouched further down on the settee, feeling perfectly lazy and vaguely discontent.
Ignoring Devlin and Violet, not particularly interested in conversation, Midnight stared into the fire to his left, thoughts wandering. The estate was about a three days' journey away, five to account for the fact he must stop and find somewhere safe to sleep. They had chanced the carriage before, but it had once broken a wheel and nearly tumbled him right out into the sunlight.
So now they stopped. Three nights, two days. Just less than a week and they would be in the country. He hoped they had no cause to return for a very long time.
The conversation had turned to a discussion of the vampires, and this he listened to with interest. "What is wrong with Seth and his family?" he asked. "Seth seemed so troubled while we were there. Ceadda, as well."
Lady Violet pursed her lips. "It is not necessarily my place to discuss the private affairs of others, but that situation is why you were put on the case to start. The Dracula Ashworth… has gone mad, to put it simply. It's a disease unique to vampires, in which human blood no longer suffices. The Alucard keeps his father… under control, shall we say? In addition to running the territory, that is. I fear it is only a matter of time before control is taken from him, but that is a problem for another day." She finished her wine and set the crystal glass down on the table beside her chair. "With that, gentlemen, I believe my business is concluded. When you return to the city, you shall dine with us."
They both rose and Devlin bowed over her hand, dusting a kiss across her knuckles. "My lady, it would be an honor. My regards to Lord Tamor."
"Of course. Farewell."
With that, she was gone.
Midnight had never been so excited and terrified in his life. They were alone—completely, utterly, no-chance-of-interruption alone. He sat on the settee, slouching down because it really was comfortable, even if it had only been in the last year or so he'd been able to overcome certain memories enough to lounge upon it again.
Of course, he really should n
ot be recalling those particular memories now. He scowled and turned to stare into the fire again.
Devlin's weight settled on the edge of the settee. Midnight did not turn, though playing at nonchalance was perhaps the most difficult thing he had ever done.
Fingers pushed inside his jacket to stroke across his abdomen. Midnight startled and jerked his head around to stare. "Heartbeat—"
"Why did you lie to me?" Devlin asked.
Midnight frowned.
"About your experience," Devlin clarified.
"Oh, that," Midnight said, grimacing. "Because you were being a bloody idiot. You seemed so firmly against—" He waved a hand in the air. "I thought if I lied you would calm down, and that by the time you figured out it was a lie you would no longer care. My plan did not work out the way I had hoped. You turned into a bloody contradiction, though I suppose I should be used to that from you, Heartbeat."
"Mm," Devlin said noncommittally, making it impossible to tell if he was agreeing, disagreeing, or simply acknowledging Midnight had said something.
Midnight wanted to smack him. Honestly, Devlin was the most aggravating person he had ever met, and likely would ever meet. "What about you?" he countered. "You cannot be mad about both things. You have refused me for as long as I can remember. I find it hard to believe that being trapped in a basement would have changed your mind. You were furious with me. You said to stop—" He cut himself off and glowered at the settee. "You did not want me inexperienced or knowledgeable. Why do you kiss me now, Heartbeat?"
Silence reigned for a very long time. All that broke it was the occasional snap and pop from the fire, the sounds of their own breathing, the rustle of fabric as Midnight slumped further down upon the settee, irritably shoving his loose hair from his face.
Why had he bothered to ask? This was Devlin, who never said anything if he could get away with not saying it.
Just as he had given up, however, Devlin spoke. "Draugr obsess," Devlin said quietly.