by A. H. Lee
Chapter 38
Azrael
Azrael was as surprised as anyone else when a jolt of magic leapt between his hands and the fox. He had expected some difficulty in getting at Jessica’s magic. He couldn’t remember her full name and Tod didn’t know it, either. So he couldn’t bind her. He’d anticipated something mildly complicated, such as taking some of her fur and working a limited binding. He certainly hadn’t expected the white light that leapt between them or the alarming phenomena of his fingers sinking for an instant into the fox.
Azrael had one baffled moment to think, But that would only make sense if she already had my magic in her. Then his world cracked like an eggshell. Azrael’s own pure, untainted magic poured back into him and he remembered.
In the same instant, Jessica changed. Her red and white fur ran together in a curl of smoke, and she was a woman—naked, her blond hair tangled and wild, her blue eyes as round as marbles. Jessica clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, gods!”
Azrael staggered backwards. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…!” He gripped the row of seats behind him. “How could I have let this happen? Mal… Shit, shit, shit. Jessica, say something.”
“Where am I?” She was patting herself down as though to be sure of her body. Making clothes took skill and magic to spare, and Azrael doubted she had either at the moment.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked.
“Lord Azrael?” she said in a small voice.
Azrael swallowed. Please say I haven’t come too late. “Anyone else?”
Jessica sniffled. “Ren?”
Azrael opened his arms in a gesture that still seemed alien to him, and she folded against his chest. Then they were both crying.
Chapter 39
Mal
“Lucy, I can’t. I just can’t. I’m not good at this.” Mal was practically weeping with frustration. He’d been trying to cloak for what felt like hours in the hellish time-dilation of the dream space. He’d forced himself to relive numerous tender moments in spite of the distraction of Lucy’s teasing. Mal examined his pride in the things Azrael could do with Mal’s magic, the intimacy of that connection, the comfort Mal took in their familiar patterns together. He relived holding hands for the first time, kissing, making love, eating breakfast together, even arguing when they could complete each other’s sentences.
Mal recalled the first time Jessica had come looking for him—the thrill of finding someone like himself, the pleasure in talking about his nature to someone who understood it. He recalled the way her magic filled him a sense of wonder that he’d thought only humans could experience, the way she’d always seen him as a person with choices, had always believed that Mal’s future was not a foregone conclusion. “She said I could have a happy ending. Nobody ever thought that before. Even Azrael just thought we were going to die together.”
Mal tried telling Lucy some of these things. The stories made him blush more than he’d expected, considering they mostly weren’t about sex. He tried thinking his way through them. He reached for those feelings, the particular flavor of those moments. Whenever he started to get too deep in his recollections, Lucy would grind against him, bringing a flood of his most natural instincts. She would look at his aura and shake her head. “That’s not it.”
Mal put both hands over his face. He was slick with sweat. His balls ached. “Maybe I’m not human enough. Maybe I just can’t.”
Chapter 40
Jessica
Jessica sat beside Azrael in the dream of a burned out theater, wearing Lucy’s cape and a piece of charred stage curtain they’d found on the floor. Azrael appeared to be wearing one of his suits. “Probably because it’s how I think of myself,” he tried to explain. “I’m just a mortal dreaming, while you’re currently a creature of pure magic inhabiting the dreamlands.”
Tod had gone to stand watch at the door after Jessica covered his nose in kisses and told him what a handsome wolf he made. “I knew I needed to talk to her,” Azrael told him, “but I need to say more than I thought. Give us a moment.”
However, they didn’t say anything for a few long seconds after Tod’s departure. Jessica understood now what she was seeing. The rest of the curtain hung in tatters high above them. Props lay strew and broken in the shadows beyond. “I was thinking of the play in Tanisea,” she said at last, “the one where Mal held your hand. I couldn’t remember any of that, though. I just knew this place felt nice—like something wonderful might happen. So I stayed and waited. I think I might have sat here forever, watching that empty stage, waiting for something to happen.”
Azrael swallowed. He turned his hand over on the armrest and slid it under Jessica’s, lacing their fingers together. “Jessica, I am so sorry. I should have been more careful.”
Jessica ran her fingers back and forth through his, feeling the delicate bones and calluses. “Where is Mal?” Her voice only shook a little.
“Trapped in a dream space,” said Azrael, “and I think his magic is being siphoned away. He thinks…” Azrael’s voice caught. “He thinks it’s a spirit vessel. He thinks I put him there. I saw him in a dream, but I didn’t know who he was.”
Jessica squeezed his fingers. “He’ll understand once you explain.”
“Being alone is so hard for him. But,” Azrael gave an uneasy laugh, “I suppose he’s not alone now, because Lucy went after him. Gods, I hope she didn’t eat him. Surely she cares enough about me not to eat him.”
Jessica’s eyebrows rose. “Mal and Lucy are trapped together in a dream space? With nobody else?”
“Looks that way.”
They’ll either fuck or kill each other. Possibly both. Jessica decided not to share her conclusions.
Azrael was staring at her hand with a look of fierce concentration. “Mal said something to me the day before all this started. In my tower after…after he turned me over my desk. He said, ‘You like demons. We’re your best friends.’ Then he tried to tell me something about you that he couldn’t quite bring himself to say, and I pretended not to understand. But I did. I do. I know what he wanted to ask.”
Jessica’s throat felt suddenly dry. Her heart thumped painfully against her ribs. She was afraid of what he might say next, so afraid that she would have paused the whole world if she’d had the power. Just to steady herself for a moment, just to get her breath. But Jessica couldn’t freeze time.
“I know you want children,” he said softly.
Jessica shut her eyes. “I know you think that’s unwise.”
“I do,” agreed Azrael, still running her fingers through his. “But there are ways to avoid passing your demonic magic to your child. You could, for instance, go to the mundane world, take a lover or a husband there, and live out your days far from the Shattered Sea. This path is poorly studied, but I’m inclined to believe that it works.”
He raised his eyes to hers, saw that they were brimming, and leaned forward to smooth the tears away with the thumb of his free hand. “Jessica, I would make such a terrible father.”
“No!” she said fiercely through her tears. “You would make a wonderful father!”
“I think Tod might disagree.”
Jessica raised her chin. “If Tod is the product of your upbringing, then you have just proved my point. But he’s not, and we both know it.”
“I should hope not,” muttered Azrael, “as we apparently share a lover. Jessica, look at what almost happened to you because of me! You could have faded away here, staring at this stage, waiting for,” he wiped his own eyes, “something to happen. People who want to hurt me come after my intimates. My life is chaos! Can’t you see that?”
Jessica tried to force her chin to stop quivering. “Your life is not chaos. You get up and go to work at the same time every day. You wear practically the same suit every day. You have tea at the same time every afternoon. The horses love you because you’re so predictable. You say the same things to Mal so often he can quote them in his sleep. Your dressing gown must be as old as I am. You
are the most boring man I know!”
They were both laughing and crying at the same time now, and it was hard to breathe. “Except for all the magic,” continued Jessica, “and all the adventures in pocket worlds and all the sex. Except for all the beautiful clothes you buy me and all the books you give me and all the funny things you say when you think nobody is listening. Except for that.”
Azrael swallowed, clutching her hand. After a moment he said, “Jessica, you came into my life and blew it apart. Mal is the most precious thing in the world to me. You took him—”
“You gave him to me,” growled Jessica. “And I know how hard that was, Ren. I know how much you love him and how much you trusted me.”
“I gave him to you,” agreed Azrael, “and then you gave him back to me.” He couldn’t find words for a moment. “There is no one I owe a greater debt, Jessica. No one. Sometimes it feels like there’s a tremendous power difference between you and me, but I am very conscious of how much I owe you. If you leave, it will feel like a limb has been amputated. But I do want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” said Jessica. She took her courage in both hands and continued, “But I would be happier if, in four or five years, you’d have a baby with me.” Jessica held her breath. Now he would say yes or he would say no. Probably no. Jessica felt strangely calm. She would get her answer and make her decision, knowing what she was choosing between.
Slowly, Azrael let go of her hand. He sat up straighter and threaded his fingers together in his lap. When he spoke, his voice was oddly formal. “This isn’t how I planned to do this. I was going to choose some beautiful spot in a storybook—perhaps that hot spring spa you were looking at. I intended to have good food and good music and attractive clothes. I certainly intended to have Mal along.”
Jessica looked around at the burned out theater, at the drifting mist through the hole in the roof, at her dress made of curtain scraps. “Your plans seem to have been scotched.”
Azrael nodded. “Nevertheless…” He slid to one knee beside her chair. He took her hand and looked up at her. His almond-shaped eyes looked very dark in his pale face.
Jessica’s breath caught.
“Jessica Charles—whose full name I know, but will not say in such a place—will you marry me?”
Jessica gaped at him.
Azrael’s formal tone slipped a little. He spoke more quickly, “Marry us? Mal and me, because we come as a set. He would ask you himself if he were here, but he wouldn’t really understand what he was asking, what it meant. I do.” Azrael gestured with a shaking hand at Lucy’s fur cape. “If you check the pocket…”
Jessica slid her hand numbly into the pocket, and came out with two silver rings. She cradled them in her palm. “You really did plan this,” she whispered.
“I made them from a link of Mal’s collar.”
Jessica’s eyes shot to his face.
“They could work like the collar,” continued Azrael hesitantly, “if that’s something you want. You’ve joked about it before. I don’t know how serious you were. They could do a lot of things with a little blood and a lot of magic. But right now, I’m hoping they’ll provide an anchor that will keep me in my right mind long enough to stop this sorcerer who is attacking us. Even if you say no, they’ll at least work for that.”
Jessica opened her mouth, but Azrael hurried on. “Jessica, I will never feel as sexually attracted to a woman as to a man. You can charm it out of me with magic, but I think you know that’s not my normal bent. Gods know Mal is more than ready to fill in the gaps, but…I don’t want you to feel unappreciated by a man you’ve married.”
Jessica gave a surprised laugh. “I don’t feel unappreciated by you.”
“I love you. I trust you. I want you in my life.” He swallowed. “And, yes, I will have a baby with you if that’s…if you really…” He was shaking all over. Jessica slid off the theater seat and knelt beside him. “You probably need some time to think about it—”
She threw her arms around him. “Yes!” She kissed him on the mouth. Kissed him until he didn’t taste like tears anymore. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Azrael made a noise that sounded like relief. He struggled to pull them both to their feet. “I love you, too,” said Jessica when they were standing face to face, “and I don’t think you ever love two people the same way. I don’t love you the same way I love Mal. You don’t love me the same way you love Mal. That’s alright.”
She allowed herself a grin so wide it hurt. “And we’re going to have a baby!”
“Not right now?” asked Azrael, his voice pleading.
“Gods, no,” said Jessica. “In a few years.”
“I have so much research to do…in the locked stacks of forbidden libraries.”
Jessica snickered. “Only you would say: ‘I’m going to be a father. I have so much research to do.’”
“Are you set upon the child being a demon?” asked Azrael. “Because I’m inclined to see if I can prevent that.”
“I’m not set upon anything, except the child being mine and yours,” said Jessica, “and Mal’s if that’s possible.”
Azrael raised one eyebrow.
Jessica sighed. “Mal thinks that if you have his magic inside you when we make the baby, it might be sort of his, too. Like literally have some of him in it. I told him that seemed like a stretch.”
Azrael frowned. “Actually, he might be right if… Wait a moment, you two have already discussed this?”
Jessica shrugged. Why did you think he was trying to ask you about it?
Azrael rolled his eyes. “Has he decided on a position to accomplish this? No, don’t tell me.”
Jessica giggled. “We looove you.”
“Speaking of Mal…” Azrael pulled away from her. “I have to go after him. I have to…” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “I probably can’t. My magic is too corrupted. I probably have to break this thing from the outside, from the mortal plane. Shit, shit, shit. I hope Lucy is able to help him. At least maybe she told him I didn’t put him there. I would hate for him to think it was me.”
At that moment, Tod came hurrying down the aisle. “Time to go,” he hissed. “The sorcerer’s coming.”
Chapter 41
Azrael
Azrael sat in one of the theater seats, his arms spread along the back, and waited. His decision to do this was a bit foolhardy. He had few weapons here in a world that he did not control, with his own magic tainted. However, he was willing to take the risk to make sure Jessica and Tod had time to escape. He also wanted some hints as to the identity of his attacker. Show yourself, bastard.
Tup, tup, tup. The footsteps sounded loud in the silent theater. Azrael refused to turn around. The anger that had been burning underneath his confusion and grief rose hot and bright in his chest. How dare you take my friends?
Something slammed into him—a binding spell, but it was intended for demons and it passed like a breath momentarily knocked from his body. Azrael refused to show that he’d felt it, but he was grudgingly impressed. The spell was pure blunt force, no finesse, and it must surely require an absurd amount of power because it did not employ the demon’s name. However, it probably would work for a short period of time on all but the strongest entities. His antagonist was apparently taking no chances.
“So,” said a voice behind him, “you’re Azrael of the Shroud.” The voice sounded young—like a teenager—but Azrael knew better than to trust this. His opponent’s voice and appearance could be altered, although doing so would require additional magic, and Azrael was beginning to wonder exactly how much magic the man could afford to waste.
Aloud, Azrael said, “Yes, and you’re late.” He snapped out the words like chips off a block of ice.
The other sorcerer gave a surprised huff.
Azrael stood up smoothly and turned around. The other man was about five paces away. He was certainly maintaining the teenaged persona consistently—a lanky kid who’d just hit his growth spurt and was
n’t eating enough. He had dark brown hair and skin, pimples, a scruffy beard, shabby trousers and a rumpled shirt. He slouched in front of Azrael with his hands in his pockets, looking mulish. Azrael had to remind himself that this person—yes, this one—had just hit him with a binding spell that would have given the lake spirit pause.
“Any dream-walker who goes around kidnapping people should know better than to make such a bloated, sprawling construction. You can’t even monitor the whole thing. Sloppy.”
The kid looked unimpressed. “You’re supposed to be a big deal.”
“Well, I’m certainly a man people don’t like to cross. What made you think this was a good idea?”
The kid scratched his beard. “You seem pretty lucid. That’s interesting. Did you drain that little fox demon that’s been running around? I thought a night terror got her, but maybe not. I suppose draining her would bring you back to yourself for a moment.”
A reasonable assumption, though happily incorrect. “Who are you?” Direct questions were worth a try. Maybe his enemy would engage in a little grandstanding.
The kid gave a twitch of his lips that was not quite a smile. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m nobody.”
“On the contrary, you are somebody who has my full attention in all the wrong ways. If you’re hoping to hold my mind or my servants hostage, you’ll regret it. Nevertheless, I would like to know what you want.”
The kid did smile then. “You’re pretty good at keeping your temper, Lord Azrael. Better than most magicians. You want to know my terms? Unfortunately for you, there aren’t any. I don’t care about you at all. I’m after bigger quarry. Sorry. Now we’ve both got work to do. You’ve got to finish my gate, and I’ve got to hold this whole ‘bloated’ construction together. So, kindly fuck off, my lord.”
Bigger quarry? Suddenly everything made more sense. Well, you’re going to find you’ve chosen the wrong tool for this job.