Queer Magick

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Queer Magick Page 15

by Davis, L. C.

"Quite frankly, I don't care what you believe, but the truth is, I was attacked by a wolf. It put a damper on my plans, and I've been scrambling to get things back on track ever since."

  "A wolf?" Holden turned to Nick.

  "I didn't do it," he said earnestly.

  "No, but one of your merry mongrels did and I'm out for blood," said Locke.

  "How would another wolf even know what you were? It took long enough for me to figure it out. You stink like every other cat does when you're in that form."

  "Nick, the rest of your family members are wolves, too, aren't they?" asked Holden.

  "About half of them, but I thought we were talking about this later."

  "We are, but I think it's relevant," Holden said, narrowing his eyes at Locke. "If Nick can't tell you're a demon, that means the wolf who attacked you already knew you somehow. You were looking for Lucas at the party..."

  "Look who's got his thinking cap on," Locke said in a mocking tone. "What of it? It was time to call in a long-due favor and the mayor has been avoiding me."

  "You know my uncle?" Nick asked.

  "No, but he certainly knows me. The Whitakers and I go way back."

  "You're the angel who led Herschel to Stillwater, aren't you?" asked Holden. "Except you're not an angel at all."

  "Herschel? Herschel Whitaker?" Nick echoed.

  Locke tilted his head. "Where did you hear that name?"

  "Around," said Holden. "Something tells me you're the 'angel' who brought Nick's ancestors here, but Stillwater wasn't really a sanctuary from religious persecution, was it?"

  "In a sense, it was," Locke said with a shrug. "A sanctuary from angels, and from anyone who pursued the damned on earth. But I didn't give Stillwater to the Whitakers, I leased it out under specific terms. After squatting for a few generations, it seems Lucas has decided he doesn't want to pay his rent."

  "Which is what, exactly?" I asked.

  "Locke wants to turn Stillwater into a whorehouse," Holden muttered. "Me being the whore in the equation."

  "If the stiletto fits..." said Locke.

  "That's my mate you're talking about," Nick snarled. "...sort of."

  "You know, I've heard about what happens when a wolf imprints, but it's another thing to see in person," said the demon. "Kind of cute, kind of pathetic. It's a real mixed bag. I wonder how you're going to feel about sharing?"

  "Locke," Holden warned. "I told you, I'm not playing along with your bullshit."

  "You don't really have a choice, crumpet."

  "Stop calling me baked goods."

  "Sorry. Demons eat witches, so I've always got food on the brain when I'm around you."

  Holden stared worriedly at him, like he wasn't quite sure if the demon was joking.

  "What do you mean share?" asked Nick.

  "Kids these days. Always skipping Sunday school, no appreciation for the classics," Locke sighed. "The Whore of Babylon is both born and made. Holden has the potential to become the Whore, but there's a ritual that has to be completed first. Seven seals, seven trumpets, seven hills. It's all a bit metaphoric in the human version of the text, but the demonic prophecy is clear. Seven lovers, specially chosen by yours truly, and the virgin will be ready to undergo his fabulous transformation into something...interesting."

  "I told you, I don't want to be part of your apocalyptic freakshow," Holden snapped. "What part of 'no' don't you understand?"

  "'No' is an answer to a question. Whether you contract with me or fall back into your father's hands, you can't change what you are," he purred. "Or what you're destined for. Wouldn't you rather have some control in the matter?"

  "He said no," Nick said firmly, standing to put himself between Holden and the demon.

  "He did," I muttered, folding my arms.

  Locke scoffed at me, but he seemed to be weighing whether or not a confrontation with Nick was worth it. "I'll give you another chance to come to your senses, Holden. Until the equinox. I suggest you give it some thought. I found you first, but it's only a matter of time before someone else does."

  With that and nothing more, Locke disappeared. No matter how many times it happened, I was never going to get used to that. Not that I wanted to.

  "It's alright," Nick said, rubbing Holden's shoulders. I watched them for a moment and things started making sense, no matter how much I didn't want them to. The sudden obsession, the way Nick had already begun to revolve around Holden the way Lucas did around Carla. It probably should have made me feel better to know that my romantic competition was destiny itself rather than just some kid who'd come in from out of town, that I had never stood even a sliver of the chance with Nick I'd once entertained in my wildest narcissistic fantasies, but it didn't.

  It would've been so much easier if I could bring myself to hate Holden, but I couldn't. He and I had more in common than I'd ever thought. Especially when it came to our taste in men.

  Eighteen

  HOLDEN

  Nick insisted on me staying at his apartment for the two nights following the full moon, and I didn't take much convincing. It wasn't so much Locke's latest appearance that had me shaken as it was my instant download of the Latin language. I couldn't consciously recall any of the words I had spoken in the prayer, but putting what Nick remembered through an online translator had yielded chilling results.

  I wasn't the praying type anymore, and angels were the last beings I would have chosen to summon if I had been. Daniel had a theory that Locke had set off some weird reaction when he freed the psychic block in my mind, and it made as much sense as anything else. A hell of a lot more than the fact that there was a werewolf sleeping at the foot of the bed. At least Nick could shift into a normal wolf form rather than the gnarled bipedal creature Daniel had described as looking like it came straight out of a horror movie.

  One of the wolf's golden eyes popped open, like he could feel me watching him even though I hadn't moved or glanced up from the book in my hands. Over the last few nights of constant companionship, I had come to realize that the bond between Nick and I wasn't something I was going to be able to just ignore. If the fixation I felt was even half as strong as it was on his side of the coin, I could tell things were going to get awkward fast. Especially now that I was unofficially dating Dennis.

  I still wasn't sure about the whole soulmate thing, but the fact that Nick was straight was making it easier to process. At least we were both unsure of how to feel about the situation. Inexplicably, finding out he was a werewolf had put me more at ease with him than I'd ever been. There were already plenty of crossed wires between my brain and body, so it stood to reason that my heart would be the same way.

  I closed my book and Nick climbed down off the bed, loping into the bathroom. A moment later, he came back out after trading his fur for flesh and fabric. It seemed a little out of character for him to be so modest, but I figured he was just trying to keep things aboveboard. He was taking the whole "just friends" thing seriously.

  "What's up?" he asked, settling on the edge of the bed. He paused, glancing at the book I'd just placed on the nightstand. "Is that the Bible?"

  "Just figured I should do some research since I'm up for a role in the dramatic retelling," I mumbled, shoving the thick black book into a drawer. I had borrowed it from Mrs. Marrin since it wasn't the kind of thing I kept around, but any connection between the actual Book of Revelation and Locke's salacious version was tentative, at best.

  "Technically, if it's a prophecy, isn't it a pretelling?" he mused.

  "Funny."

  "Find anything interesting?"

  "No, but it got me thinking," I admitted. "Locke said I'm destined to become the Whore of Babylon if the ritual goes according to plan, and when I was younger, the prophet at my church said the same thing. It's not a guarantee, just a possibility."

  "Right. So I'll keep you away from Locke and your dad and there's nothing to worry about," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

  The gesture made me feel things
far less innocent than the spirit in which it was obviously intended and I felt my cheeks grow flushed from the touch. "Yeah, but best case scenario, I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying not to become something and you'll be in danger the entire time."

  "I'm not worried."

  I watched him for a moment, frowning. "How can you sound so confident? I know you're a werewolf, but these are angels and demons we're talking about."

  "I don't know a whole lot about all the Biblical stuff," he admitted. "But I've never met any kind of monster a pack of wolves couldn't take down, and that's just protecting our territory. When it comes to protecting you, I feel like I could take anything. It could be a whole legion of demons, but as long as I have you to keep safe, there's not room to feel anything like fear or doubt."

  I worried at my bottom lip, still processing his words when he kissed me. A week earlier, the boldness of the gesture would have infuriated me, but I found myself oddly responsive to it.

  Nick's lips were as warm and soft as I remembered, but his hands were rough as they swept over my bare arms and underneath my sweater, spanning my waist. Whether it was destiny, pheromones or a mixture of both, the bond seemed to deepen with every touch and tender moment that passed between us. His mouth was at my neck, sucking gently on some spot I hadn't even realized was that sensitive, making me shiver as his tongue traced the path of my jugular. My hands explored the toned planes of his chest and I marveled at how good it felt to have his weight settled on top of me, his muscular frame covering mine. Even when his teeth were on the verge of breaking my skin, the thrill and the newness of it all far surpassed my apprehension. I turned my head, desperate for him to do something I couldn't quite solidify into a conscious thought, let alone a plea.

  Without hearing, he seemed to know. His arms coiled around me, wiry and firm as he pressed in close and for once, I was too caught up in how good his body felt to focus on how wrong mine did.

  "Nick," I breathed against his lips before he captured mine again, running my hands further down over his torso. I reached for his belt and all the heat between us ran cold as he grabbed my hand and met my eyes, his own full of trepidation. If anyone should have been hesitant, it was me. Dennis had stated in no uncertain terms that he wasn't interested in pursuing anyone else, if only because he hadn't been planning to pursue a relationship at all before we started seeing each other, but we still weren't exclusive. Even though I was already flaunting the strictures of my upbringing by having a relationship with another man, romance was still entrenched in my brain as something that was meant to be share with one person. It was a strain to process how I could feel pulled so strongly towards two different people, and the answer was too close in line with Locke's goals for my comfort.

  When the initial infatuation I'd felt for Nick had turned to betrayal, then apathy, it had been a relief. I knew kissing him was a mistake, if only because it had sparked something I should have left dormant, but the idea of him thinking it was a mistake stung more than it had any right to.

  "What's wrong?" I asked, breathless as he pulled away from me.

  "I...can't," he said, moving back to a safe distance, running a hand through his hair. His tanned skin was flushed with a light sheen of perspiration that wasn't doing anything to make me want to touch him less.

  "Why not?" I asked, bewildered by the sudden shift. "I'm sorry, I'm not really experienced with this, so if I did something wrong--"

  "It's not that. It's not you, Holden, you're perfect and I want to, more than you have any fucking idea, I just... There's something I haven't told you."

  "What is it?" I asked, my confusion shifting to concern.

  "This is hard enough to say, and I don't uh, really know where to start. I've never been good at this."

  "Good at what?" All sorts of possibilities were floating through my brain, none of them good. I hadn't realized just how much of a constant Nick had become in my life until the possibility that something was wrong with him reared itself.

  "Coming out."

  I blinked. "As what?"

  "Holden, I'm transgender."

  I stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he was saying. Yet again, the machinery was there but the wires just weren't connecting right. "You're what?"

  "You know what that is, right?" he asked warily.

  "Yeah, I do, but..." I couldn't really picture it and I felt bad enough for trying. I had met a transgender girl once, a long time ago. She came to one of my father's services asking for healing, but there wasn't anything I could do for her when there was nothing broken or sick to heal in the first place. That had made my father and his elders uncomfortable enough to quietly usher her out of the tent, but there were times when I still wondered what had happened to her.

  "I'm sorry," he muttered for what seemed like the dozenth time. "I should've told you before. It's just not the kind of thing you say when you meet someone, and all of this happened so fast..."

  "Nick, it's okay," I said gently, squeezing his hand. "It doesn't change anything."

  He eyed me nervously, like he didn't quite believe that was my final reaction. "It doesn't?"

  "No," I murmured. "I mean, it'll take some getting used to the idea, but you're still the same person."

  He watched me like he was trying to look through me again. "Thanks," he murmured. "I probably should have said something before, but I was still trying to sort all this out myself. I just figured I owed it to you before things got, uh, romantic."

  "I mean, I'm still not sure how I feel about that in general," I admitted. "But I can promise I'll be there for you as a friend no matter what."

  He smiled a little, but it didn't meet his eyes.

  I frowned as past conversations started to make a little more sense. "Is that why you don't get along with your mom?"

  "Yeah," he admitted, his voice husky. "It's been hard for her to adjust. Her and my brother, but the rest of the pack's okay with it. Not that they really had a choice once I shifted. Our wolf forms always match our spirits, even when our human bodies don't line up."

  I nodded, letting that sink in. "What should I call you?"

  He blinked at me. "Huh?"

  "I mean, I know Nick is kind of androgynous, but...wouldn't you prefer Nicole or something?"

  "Holden..." He wrinkled his nose and watched me for a second. "Wait, no. I'm not transitioning to female, it's the other way around. I'm a guy, and I've already done everything you can do as far as transitioning goes. Nothing's going to change, I just felt like you should know about my past if there's a chance we're going to be anything more than a boy and his dog in the future."

  "Oh." My face turned hot and I found myself wishing I could crawl back under the covers. "Wow. I feel like such a moron."

  "No, you're not," he said with an easy laugh, tilting my chin towards him. "There are a lot of people who didn't spend five years locked in a basement who don't know it goes both ways, trust me. You're an angel, but you're definitely not a moron."

  I shivered.

  "Sorry. Poor choice of words," he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "You sure this doesn't change how you feel?"

  "Of course not," I mumbled. "I mean, I'm kind of relieved. I can't picture you in a dress. Locke, sure..."

  He laughed. "There was this one picture taken before I could dress myself, but I'm pretty sure I ate it to hide the evidence."

  "Who else knows?"

  "Daniel and uh, pretty much everyone else in town. Sorry."

  "It's okay," I said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm just glad you told me."

  "You're taking this a lot better than I expected."

  "I'm the Whore of Babylon and I have a demon stalker," I said flatly. "I don't really have room to complain about something like this, even if it did bother me."

  "Alleged Whore of Babylon," he teased, pulling me down on top of him.

  I leaned to kiss him and felt my head fog up again. I pulled away while I still had the presence of mind
to do so. "What is that?"

  "What's what?" he asked innocently.

  "Don't play dumb. Whenever I'm around you lately, I get..."

  "Horny?"

  I groaned. "If you have to be crude, yeah."

  "Werewolf hormones," he said, rolling me onto my side, slipping his arm over my hip. "You're starting to feel the effects of me imprinting on you, I guess. That's how I've felt ever since I met you."

  "That must have been confusing."

  "Tell me about it. You have any idea how long it's taken to convince my family that I'm never bringing home a 'nice guy?'"

  "If it helps any, I'm not very nice."

  He snorted. "At least at this point my mom's gonna be too confused to know what to think."

  "I'm sorry, Nick. I mean, this all came out of nowhere for me, but I never really stopped to think about how weird it would be to suddenly feel that way about someone you never thought you'd be attracted to until --"

  "Until you started picturing me in a dress?"

  I nodded sheepishly.

  "It was weird at first, and it still kind of is, but you not wanting anything to do with me for a while was probably for the best. It gave me time to think."

  "About what?" I asked, feeling a twinge of guilt.

  "About how I'm maybe not as straight as I'd like to be," he muttered.

  "Nick, people are complicated. I have next to zero experience with this shit, but even I know that. There are exceptions. You don't have to change the way you identify just because you imprinted on me. I don't expect that, especially when I'm not even sure how I feel."

  "I know you don't," he said, absently stroking my side underneath my shirt. The touch made me shiver more than it should have. Fucking werewolf hormones. "But the thing about an exception is that if it happens more than once, you have to start opening your mind to the possibility that it's more of a rule."

  I listened, trying to make sense of his words. "I'm not the only guy you've had feelings for?"

  "No," he muttered, clearly less than happy about it. "But it was back when half the town still just saw me as a super butch lesbian, and I'd have been damned before I gave them a reason to think I was a straight girl. It takes years to shake people of certain ideas, but all it takes is one thing to undo all of it and convince them they were right the first time, you know?"

 

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