Studies in Demonolgy: the complete series

by Nichols, TJ

  “Me neither.” It didn’t fill him with confidence, only suspicion.

  She pressed her lips together, concentrated on the leaves, and pushed them aside to expose the sand. “So, if it’s full of warlocks… how is it different from the college?” She looked up at him. “You’re a warlock. How are you different?”

  He hadn’t thought of himself as a warlock for a while, but that’s how humans saw him. He was a rogue warlock—the worst kind. He knew just enough to be dangerous. “I’m an apprentice mage. I don’t share beliefs with the warlocks, and I can only hope that the warlocks in the underground don’t share beliefs with the college.”

  “That’s a lot of hope.”

  “Yeah.” And he wasn’t feeling any of it. Did the warlocks really want to bring back nondemon magic or did they want to steal power from the college? Were people like Lizzie just foot soldiers in the war?

  And what was he?

  How could he align himself with only the demons or the underground when he had a foot on both sides of the void? He wanted to save both worlds, and he didn’t care about power squabbles. A brown bug crawled along his arm and bit him without warning. He pulled it off, tearing his skin in the process. The thing still held his flesh in its pincers.

  Some days literally everyone wanted a bite.

  Lizzie peered at the bug as it ate the piece of his skin while his arm bled. “We’re the bug, at the mercy of whoever is holding us.”

  He put the bug onto the sand, and it scuttled beneath the leaves. “Then, who has the gentlest touch?”

  “I guess that depends on who finds us the most useful.”

  He shook his head and pressed his shirtsleeve against the wound. “No, who do you want to help and who do you want to bite?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Saka hadn’t said a word since he came down the mountain. He didn’t know what to say. There was a fresh cut over his heart where he’d made an offering of his blood. Miniti had seen him coming and gotten everyone moving, but Saka was happy to walk at the back. They didn’t need him at the front to look for water as they followed the river away from Lifeblood.

  For the moment the tribe didn’t need him at all.

  That was a good thing. He couldn’t be any use to anyone right then. He couldn’t still his thoughts. He’d voted against going and hadn’t volunteered to go. If he had, would he have been able to prevent Guda’s death? He had more experience with humans than most other mages, simply because he was one of the few who’d allowed a connection to form with a warlock.

  He should’ve gone with Guda.

  Guda had been his family longer than his mother. He’d left her to become a mage as soon as he was old enough. When she died, it hadn’t hurt like this. Pain was becoming something he was too familiar with.

  Just like when he thought Angus was going to give his soul to Demonside.

  Guda was dead because of Angus. Angus kept bringing pain to Saka’s heart. He had slipped in and was tearing him apart. Saka didn’t want to love if that was what it felt like. It was a weakness. Guda was wrong. It couldn’t be a strength.

  Even their last conversation had been about Angus.

  Saka regretted the day he’d felt the pull and stepped through the void to get a new warlock. Demonside needed new information, an ally they could control in the college. Instead they’d gotten Angus, a warlock who wanted to save Demonside.

  Now the underground had the means to make Angus do their bidding, because he’d let himself fall for Terrance. There would be no second attempt to get Terrance back. Saka would have to speak to his apprentice, but it was a conversation he didn’t relish having.

  The glare from the sand stung his eyes. He would not cry for Guda. She had lived her life doing what she loved and following the path she’d picked, and she had died on Lifeblood. How many could say that? He only wished she could’ve lived long enough to see Demonside restored and the college defeated.

  He blinked and saw Angus to the side, waiting for the tail of the tribe to catch up. Saka clamped his jaw together. He was not ready. He had never wanted an apprentice. Maybe he wasn’t a very good teacher. He certainly wasn’t doing a good job with Angus.

  As well as Usi and Saka, there were now two other mages and their human trainees in the expanded tribe. It wasn’t unheard of to let an apprentice experience the teaching of another mage, especially one with different skills. Usi was very good with a knife and at causing pain. While Saka knew Angus liked neither pain nor the knife, he needed to learn.

  It did no one any good to only practice the things they enjoyed. A mage needed to be multiskilled, even if some of those skills were rarely used.

  Angus would learn how to hunt and kill and how to fight, which was exactly what he’d asked to learn.

  Angus fell into step with him. “Miniti would like to talk to you this evening.”

  Saka nodded. He’d expected that. The mages had agreed that the failed mission wouldn’t be discussed. Those who had hungered for action had brought the disaster, but all were chastened. Publicizing it would only damage the morale the rain had lifted. People would doubt the mages. There was no good outcome.

  Being correct was no comfort. Anger and hurt simmered. He would not rage at Angus. He should’ve gone with Guda. Saka blinked and saw the bullet wounds again. No one could’ve predicted the betrayal.

  “What happened this morning?” Angus’s gaze darted to the open wound.

  Saka would have to heal it that evening. There was no point in being foolish and risking infection, but for the time being, he wanted to feel the sting.

  “Nothing.” Nothing he could talk about anyway. Miniti would be unimpressed when he told her Guda was dead but he couldn’t tell her how. “I want you to work with Usi.”

  Angus stopped walking as though he’d slammed into an invisible tree.

  Saka didn’t wait for him.

  Angus hurried to catch up. “Why? Have I done something wrong?” Saka made the mistake of glancing at him. Beneath his hat his face was pinched with worry. “Do you not want me as your apprentice anymore?”

  The horror in his voice was another twisting blade. Saka didn’t know how not to let it pull him apart and leave him vulnerable.

  Mages didn’t have families, yet Guda had said that it was possible. Perhaps it was a modern thing to not get too close. He’d had lovers, but none had expected more than a happy joining when the need arose. He’d never felt more than a passing affection for any of them.

  “You are still mine. And I will still teach you, but Usi is better with a blade.”

  “No… she is better at inflicting pain. You told me that. You once asked me what I preferred, and I told you pleasure.”

  “And I’m telling you, you must learn pain too.” The words came out as a snarl. Saka drew a breath. “I will be there. I will be your subject to practice on.” Usi would enjoy that.

  Maybe if Angus cut into him enough times, Saka would stop liking the warlock.

  Chapter Twelve

  The delicate set of bone-handled knives was too pretty for the job they’d been made to do. They were one of the gifts Angus had been given when he was unconscious after his father tried to kill him. While he’d handled them several times and had personally thanked all the people who left gifts, he’d never used the knives.

  He’d made cuts on himself with Saka’s knives as he learned how much pressure to use and where was safe. And he had learned that, beneath the skin, he looked like any other raw meat.

  His stomach flipped and refused to settle. Angus glanced at Saka who lay naked on the floor of his tent as though nothing were amiss. He wanted to ask if Saka was sure he was ready. Angus wasn’t sure. There must be other things he could learn.

  Wouldn’t it be better if he learned how to use magic instead of more ways to draw it up? But he didn’t want to voice his doubts in front of Usi.

  Usi was far too happy to be there. If it bothered Saka, he didn’t show it. But it bothered Angus. She wasn’t s
upposed to be in the space where he learned with Saka. And while he could see the logic in learning from other mages, Usi would enjoy hurting Saka and then expect Angus to enjoy it. Angus didn’t know if he could cause Saka pain.

  He’d never used a knife on anyone.

  Saka had used it on him, and even though he’d been afraid, he ended up liking it because Saka had somehow combined it with the sex magic he was so good at. Angus would rather be doing that, even if Saka kept him on edge all night, until he was begging and broken.

  Would Saka beg for it to stop?

  “Ready,” Usi said.

  Angus’s mouth was drier than the sand of Demonside after a year with no rain. He nodded. Around him the tent was dim and mostly empty, except for the bed and the orb-shaped magic collectors, of which there were only three. Everything else was packed for the walk. Few tents had been put up because they would move on the next day. Saka had asked for his tent so they could work, but Angus had hoped Saka would change his mind all day.

  If anything, Saka had withdrawn further and given short, sharp answers to any question Angus asked. So he stopped asking. There was definitely something wrong with Saka, and this was not the way to find out what.

  Usi passed her knife through the flame, and Angus copied with his chosen blade.

  He still hadn’t come up with a way to back out, and he didn’t know what to say to stop it. Did he really need to learn how to cause pain? Saka was right in that he needed to be multiskilled, but it could wait. Couldn’t it? Until he knew more? Until he was more sure of himself? What if he actually hurt Saka? His stomach clenched, and he almost threw up.

  Usi watched him as though hoping to find weakness, and that was enough for him to keep his expression blank.

  “You will make and hold the circle.” She didn’t have a conversation the way Saka did. Perhaps there was a reason why she didn’t have an apprentice yet.

  His hand was sweaty around the bone hilt. He had no idea what animal the bones had come from and had decided it was probably rude to ask. Maybe it was better he didn’t know. That he held death in his hands was bad enough, but Saka had been impressed with the quality of the knives.

  Angus drew up the circle around them. It crackled like lightning and shimmered crystalline blue. While he could hear the noises of the camp, they faded away as he brought his focus to what he had to do.

  Get it done. Get it over. That was all he could think about.

  Usi knelt on the other side of Saka. She ran through a basic list of places not to cut because death would follow, and that wasn’t the aim. He knew those things. Was she just making sure? Or was she trying to impress Saka with her ability to teach so he would speak well of her and recommend that she take an apprentice?

  Angus blinked and focused. She talked about pressure points, demonstrated with the hilt of her knife as she pressed into one on Saka’s wrist and then several others up his arm. Each time she drew a hiss from Saka.

  “There is no need to start with blood. Like lust, you want to build the pain. The magic will look and feel different. That is what you need to learn. Holding lust is easy.” Her lip curled in the slightest of sneers.

  Saka didn’t challenge her the way he usually would’ve.

  Angus’s eyebrows twitched. He’d been caught up in lust, and there was nothing gentle about the energy during the orgy. He might not remember the details, but the disconnection and the hypersensitivity were echoes that he couldn’t forget.

  After that night Saka hadn’t pushed any ritual sex and had instead kept what they did to a very low level. Angus missed the intensity—that moment when the whole world was reduced to what he felt and someone else was in control.

  That someone was supposed to be him, but he’d much rather bring Saka to the edge of pleasure.

  He tried to locate the pressure points on Saka’s other arm, but it wasn’t as easy as she made it look.

  “You are using your eyes. Use your other senses,” Usi said as though he should know better.

  “Put your other hand on my arm. Reach out with magic to feel where the nerves run.” They were the first words Saka had spoken to him since Usi arrived—a simple command with no emotion beneath the words, none of the reassurance he’d come to expect.

  Usi dug the hilt in, and Saka’s back arched, but not a sound slipped past his lips.

  Angus did as Saka told him. He rested his palm on Saka’s wrist. His skin was hot and rough. Angus brushed his thumb over the veins in a silent apology. Then he reached out to find the nerves. It took a few heartbeats before he could feel the life in his demon—where the blood rushed beneath his fingertips, where the deeper veins and arteries were, then the finer network of nerves, and the clusters at the pressure points. It was a map to pain… and pleasure. When he looked at Saka, he saw the nerves like golden roads over his dark red skin.

  He swallowed hard and pushed the handle of his knife into a nerve cluster near Saka’s elbow. Saka barely flinched.

  “You will have to press harder,” Usi said.

  He didn’t want to press harder, but he did. And he repeated it for each pressure point until Usi was happy that he could find them and apply different pressures—a hard, short jab, or a slower, more consistent, grinding pressure that built until Saka grimaced. All Angus wanted to do was apologize.

  The orbs glowed, but not with the soft light he was used to. There was the familiar static of magic building, but it tasted different. It had a sour undertone—not one that tasted bad, more like tart lemon than sweet orange.

  Usi nodded. “Now we move on.” She ran her hand down Saka’s arm as though she were caressing him.

  Angus was very familiar with that stroke. When Saka did it to him, it usually signified a change. Saka would pause in what he was doing to give Angus a chance to catch his breath before he pushed harder. Angus still had his hand on Saka’s arm. He hadn’t moved it. He didn’t need to touch him to know where the nerves were, but he wasn’t ready to let go.

  Usi turned the knife in her hand so she could use the blade. “All cuts hurt, but some hurt more. You can cut without making him bleed.” She demonstrated by carving a line around the curve of Saka’s bicep. “You don’t want to cut tendons or slash nerve clusters.”

  She pressed on a pressure point with one hand and carved with the other. “Pain can be multilayered.” She reopened the wound on Saka’s chest.

  He hadn’t healed it yet, and he hadn’t mentioned how it happened. Usi knew. She’d been up Lifeblood. The grunt of pain was different that time. Fresh blood leaked from the wound, but the cut was only deep enough to bleed.

  She rested an elbow on Saka’s thigh. Angus could see the golden cluster she was targeting, and he was sure that Saka had tensed. Usi’s pointed teeth gleamed in the light. She looked relaxed as she twisted and applied more pressure. “Some people will ask you to stop. Others will stay silent. You need to read their body. Saka and I aren’t that different.” She moved again, and Saka’s belly tensed. As the muscles bunched, she dragged the tip of the knife across his skin and lifted a delicate flap.

  Angus closed his eyes, and his stomach leaped into his throat. He was going to be sick.

  Saka breathed in short, sharp pants. The magic in the air thickened. There was no appealing scent of desire, just the tangible aura of pain. Angus closed his eyes to keep it together.

  “Do it. Then we will stop for today,” Usi demanded.

  Angus forced his eyes open. His gaze clashed with hers, and he considered telling her where she could shove the knife and her lesson, but Saka had wanted this for a reason.

  Maybe it was so Angus could see the ugly side of magic. Whatever the reason he didn’t want more lessons like that. He didn’t care if he only had a few tricks up his sleeve.

  But he wouldn’t always be able to rely on pleasure to draw up magic. Even on his side of the void, he used his own blood and pain. But how much could he do if he were in agony? Not much. Was the underground using Terrance in a similar way?
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  Anger burned through him at the thought of someone hurting an unwilling human.

  Saka had volunteered. He knew what would happen. He understood more about magic than the college warlocks who liked to think themselves so smart. Not one of them would ever offer themselves up so a student could learn.

  He wouldn’t waste the opportunity Saka had given him. He considered his teacher’s body for a moment. He knew it well, knew where Saka liked to be touched, knew the taste of his skin and the sound of his pleasure-filled groans.

  Multilayered pain is what Usi wanted to see. Then it would be over.

  His knife skills were not as good as hers, but he spilled fresh blood, and Saka’s breath came in sharper pants. The magic in the tent crackled and swelled.

  Usi smiled. “Now we clean the knives, and then you can tend your mage.”

  The orbs glowed with their sickly pain-fed light. Saka hadn’t moved yet, though the circle had been dropped and Usi had left.

  “Do you need me to get you something?” Was it time to have something to eat or drink to ground themselves? The work felt unfinished. Sex magic had an obvious end, but pain didn’t.

  “You can raise a circle and heal the cuts.” Saka’s eyes were closed. How much was he hurting?

  “I’ve never healed anything.” Not even himself. Saka had always done that.

  “So now you learn.” His voice was as sharp as a blade. “I have told you and shown you how. It is not good manners to leave someone in a mess.”

  Saka had always made sure that he cleaned and healed any cuts he made on Angus. When Angus cut himself, he either had to ask Saka or, if he was on the other side of the void, he waited until his body did it on his own.

  He brought up a circle around them. It was smaller than when Usi had been there. “Shouldn’t she have done the healing?”

  “Mages have different abilities. Healing is not one of her strengths. I asked her to leave it for you.”

  That explained why the injured came to Saka, not Usi. It had nothing to do with him being head mage and everything to do with him being the better healer.