by Nichols, TJ
Because Saka had walked out instead of accepting the tenderness Angus had shown him while he healed the cuts. He was no great teacher… or friend or lover.
Slowly he made his way to his tent. The vegetation was cool beneath his feet. Soon the plants would dry and return to the sand. Someone left his tent and walked straight toward him. Angus stopped a few paces away and jerked his chin as a greeting, as though he had nothing to say.
Saka deserved nothing but the coolest brush-off, but he had to say something. “You rebalanced.”
“I did.”
Saka didn’t know what else to say, and he wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened on Lifeblood or after the training. Angus didn’t elaborate, so Saka stepped to the side and let Angus go past, but he turned to watch him go. For a moment he wanted to go with him to make sure he was going to be all right by the river. But he didn’t. Angus had been there long enough to know what to do, and he hadn’t asked for Saka’s company. Or maybe he didn’t want to be shoved aside.
In the tent Saka lay down, but he didn’t fall sleep, even when Angus returned and lay next to him without touching him. The distance was so great Angus might as well have been across the void. Saka wanted to feel Angus’s touch. He needed the kindness after tonight, but he couldn’t make himself reach out, no matter how much he craved comfort.
When he did fall asleep, his body betrayed him.
Saka woke curled against Angus, his arm draped over him and their legs tangled. There wasn’t even a sheet between their skins. Once he wouldn’t have cared. He would have enjoyed the moment for what it was. But he couldn’t fall in love and certainly not with a human, with a warlock.
Was he no longer fit to be a mage?
Saka eased his legs free. He should get up, get ready for the day, get away. Angus stirred and clasped Saka’s hand to his stomach. Saka felt the smooth line of scar tissue beneath his fingertips. He froze.
“You don’t have to pull away.” Angus’s voice was soft and muffled with sleep.
Saka closed his eyes. He didn’t want to. He needed to. Angus rolled over and pulled Saka close so his head rested on Angus’s chest. Saka didn’t even resist.
He didn’t need to worry about falling in love. He was sliding into it heedless to the danger and despite the warnings. Whatever happened to him was entirely his own fault.
No one could know. Miniti would demote him. Usi would take over, and he couldn’t bear that. He’d have to change tribes, but he’d be stuck until the next gathering.
“Whatever it is, you don’t have to tell me. Just don’t be a dick.” Angus’s fingers smoothed over his skull and up one horn. His heartbeat was a drum in Saka’s ear—constant, reassuring. As long as there was music, there was life.
Don’t be a dick. He knew that was something akin to “Don’t shut yourself off” or “Don’t push me away.” But if he let Angus in, everything would crumble. If Angus died, there would be nothing left inside Saka.
Watching Angus fight for life had tied him in knots. He couldn’t do it again. But he didn’t want Angus to sleep on the other side of the tent, and he couldn’t teach him if they were barely talking.
Saka couldn’t talk about the failed rescue—which was his fault. He had let jealousy blind him. He should’ve been there—but he could talk about Guda, Her death was no secret, but the way it happened was a secret. He needed to be able to share his grief. Angus had known Guda. He knew what she’d meant to him. He’d understand. But the words remained trapped in Saka’s throat. They closed it up and made it hard to breathe.
Beyond the tent, people were waking up and making breakfast. They needed to pack the tents and eat. He needed to get ready to face the tribe as though nothing were wrong. But he couldn’t move.
Angus kissed the top of his head, seemingly preparing to let him go.
Saka wasn’t ready. He forced the words out. “Guda is dead. She gave her soul on Lifeblood Mountain.”
“Dead?”
Saka nodded.
Without her, the whole human-trainee experiment would never have gotten a chance. They’d be at war with the humans, and many more demons would be dead or dying. Her death was so much more than the loss of his mentor.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been angry at you.” Angus’s lips brushed over his skin.
“You didn’t know.”
Angus tightened his embrace. “I should’ve realized you were upset. Usi knew?”
“She was there.”
Angus cupped Saka’s jaw as though to force him to look up, but he didn’t apply any pressure. His fingers rested along Saka’s skin. “Why did you do that lesson last night?”
“Because I wanted to block it out. Because it needed to be done. Because I wanted you to hurt.” Which was very petty of him.
Angus didn’t speak, but he didn’t push Saka away either.
“You did well.” As always when it came to magic, Angus did well. He did what had to be done.
“That’s not a compliment,” Angus said.
“It is. And it will happen again.” Saka glanced up.
Angus squirmed beneath him. He seemed to want to get free. “There are other—”
Saka kissed him. He didn’t want to hear Angus’s objections. He knew Angus didn’t like it. He’d be worried if he did.
They both liked the same kind of magic. They were well matched. As the warlocks said, the kind of demon they got said a lot about the warlock.
What did it say about the demon, especially when a mage could turn away the seeking connection? He’d actively sought it that day.
“We need to get up,” Angus said against his lips.
“I know.” He didn’t want to. He liked the steadiness of life at the foot of the mountain, instead of the endless routine of walking and setting up. He didn’t want to see Usi and her knowing gaze.
He needed to take his place at the front and be head mage, even though he didn’t feel as though he could. He moved and covered Angus’s body with his. He threaded his fingers into the soft, red-gold strands of Angus’s hair. He didn’t want to leave his bed.
Angus gazed up at him, his blue eyes wide and all traces of sleep gone. “We can rebalance tonight.”
“I don’t want to rebalance.” I want you. While he’d promised himself it would only be the once, it was too easy to let himself be consumed by need instead of holding back and doing what was right. There would be other times, and they had days until the void would be opened. “I think you did a good job on your own last night. Maybe I should have stayed to watch.”
“I think you would’ve given in.” The wariness was gone, replaced with challenge.
Saka had heard other mages talk about their apprentices and how there would be a moment when they stopped blindly obeying and started to question. He hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly.
He gave Angus a small smile. “I don’t think so.”
Was Angus ready to be the one in control? He had started to push the boundaries. Saka drew in a breath as he imagined being at Angus’s mercy, imagined Angus keeping that delicate balance to make sure neither of them tumbled over until just the right moment. Saka hadn’t been in that position since he finished his training. He’d always been allowed to lead.
His body liked the idea of relinquishing control.
“Tonight, then,” Angus said. He moved his hands over Saka’s hips.
Saka kissed him. “Yes, tonight for rebalancing.” He moved his hips and enjoyed the length of Angus’s erection against him. He should move away and let Angus remain unsatisfied. It would be better that night. All day to think about the ways Angus could torment him. “This morning is for us.”
Angus gave a small nod. Their lips met, and lust tumbled through Saka. He didn’t bother to try to control it. Didn’t want to. He could take a lover—someone he could be with separate from all magic—but he didn’t want one. He didn’t have time for one. And Angus was there and willing.
Angus slid his leg over Saka�
��s and hooked it over his hip. “They will be waiting to pull down your tent, and I don’t want to get caught like this.”
“Our tent,” he corrected. But Angus was right. They didn’t have time to luxuriate in every sensation.
Saka rolled his hips and pressed closer. They moved together. It was almost enough. He wanted to find the oil and thrust deeply into Angus’s ass, but the oil was packed because he hadn’t planned on having sex. For a couple of heartbeats he thought about forgoing the oil, but then Angus slid his hand between their bodies.
Angus wrapped his hand around both their cocks, and groaned. Saka smothered the sound with a kiss. He put aside all other thoughts and worries, and for that morning, they were simply two men in desperate need of each other. Angus raked his teeth over Saka’s lip. Saka shifted position, so he could watch as Angus stroked both lengths—dark red and pale together.
“Both hands,” Saka ground out.
Angus obeyed. Come beaded on the heads, and Angus slicked the fluid down the shafts. Hot need gripped his balls. He thrust into Angus’s hands, messing up Angus’s rhythm.
He would enjoy watching Angus tonight. Then, when Angus thought he was done, Saka would make him realize that he wasn’t. He wanted to watch as Angus tormented himself. The stroke of his hand…. But Angus was right. He would give in and want to touch him. Even then he needed more. He slid his tail around Angus’s hand and teased the slit of Angus’s ruddy head.
Angus drew in a shaky breath, and his chest lifted, but he kept control. Saka let him claim the victory, and succumbed first, giving in to the release he craved. His body jerked, and the heat rolled down his spine as he came on Angus’s hands and cock. He gave a couple more thrusts as lust continued to ripple through his body and the last of his pleasure splashed onto Angus’s skin. Angus’s back arched, and his eyes closed.
Stop him now and make him wait.
But he didn’t. He watched as Angus stroked and the head of his cock darkened. His breath caught the moment before he came, and the thick white fluid mixed with his own on Angus’s belly and chest. Saka leaned down for a taste of the salty-sweet mess.
Angus cracked open his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with a morning quickie.”
“Quickie?”
“As in just get on with it.” A smile curved his lips. “For someone who’s all about sex magic, you seem to have forgotten what it’s like to do it for fun.”
Maybe he had. His last lover hadn’t even been part of the tribe. He’d been a trader, moving from place to place. They’d gotten together a few times a year until he vanished. Either Kitu had died in the desert or been taken by warlocks. For most of Saka’s life, sex had been about magic.
Angus placed his hand on Saka’s cheek. “It’s okay to have fun.”
It was almost a question, as though Angus weren’t sure if it was okay.
Saka kissed him, and Angus slid his tongue over his as though seeking out the taste of their pleasure. “Yes. It is okay to have fun.”
In those few words he gave himself permission to enjoy what he had. Magic couldn’t consume his life or he would forget what he was fighting for.
It wasn’t the fact that Angus had lain with Terrance that stung him. It was that Angus liked the human man the way Saka wanted to be liked by Angus. Angus had once questioned what Saka and he had, and Saka had said all the right things—that they were mage and apprentice, warlock and demon. They had something that was unbreakable. But it was more than that. He’d been lying to himself even then.
They were friends.
They were lovers, and he was in love.
Chapter Fourteen
The days were full and tiring. They packed, walked, and set up in the evening. But even when the sun set, Saka kept him up and trained him until late every evening. Angus began to feel that he could walk and sleep at the same time. He would dream that he was holding the knife in his hand and that he could feel the cool, bone handle against his palm. Then he’d wake, and his hand would be empty. He wished he wasn’t so familiar with the knife or that he couldn’t tell from the tiniest change in Saka’s expression when something mildly hurt and when it really hurt.
At least he was getting better at healing the cuts, even the deeper ones. Afterward, they’d lie together. Some nights neither of them could be bothered with any rebalancing. Instead they simply had fun. Saka was rediscovering fun, and Angus liked to see that other side of his demon—the part the rest of them never saw.
To the tribe, Saka was the head mage and healer. While someone else made them dinner each evening, Angus would help Saka as he dealt with the day’s ailments. The walking caused blisters or strains. There were burns from cooking and one bite from a pack animal. People came to Saka, and gradually Saka let Angus do more than watch. Despite Angus’s initial reluctance, the demons didn’t seem to mind him testing out his new skill on them.
Norah and Lizzie would sometimes watch. While he spoke to them during the walks, they didn’t talk about anything much. They needed to work out what they were going to tell the underground. Soon the void would be torn open, and they’d go back for a few days. Angus didn’t know if he was excited or if he dreaded it—or a combination of both.
Angus ate something that was wrapped in leaves and eaten like a sandwich. He was glad to sit by himself for a little while and do nothing. In a few moments, he’d have to get ready for whatever lesson Saka had in mind. He stretched out his legs. His calves no longer ached at the end of every day, but sitting down was still most welcome. The soles of his feet were hard, and his toenails chipped. He needed a bath.
Before him the stars glimmered on the river and made it shine like ink dotted with diamonds. He’d love to strip off and swim, but he didn’t dare. So he washed with a small scoop of water and still felt gritty—the same as every other night. With luck Miniti would’ve decided on a site by the time he came back from Vinland, so there’d be no more packing and walking. There’d be real showers.
He took a drink, but the thirst was deeper than he could quench. He’d woken up thirsty, but it wasn’t heatstroke. He wasn’t even sunburned. His hands were golden, and there were clear tan lines where his shirt protected him and where skin was exposed. He had no idea what his face looked like—probably like his hands, but with even more freckles. That didn’t fill him with joy, but not all the changes were bad. He was fitter and stronger.
From where he was sitting, he could see across the desert until it disappeared into the night. They’d already gone beyond signs of civilization. All the tribes had headed in different directions. Years ago some tribes had decided not to return to Lifeblood each year and had set off for the ocean. Where exactly was that?
Where were the feathered demons that he’d seen on the news from beyond Vinland?
Footsteps reverberated through the earth as someone walked toward him. He was used to tapping into Demonside now. Saka had made him reach out until he could feel the footsteps of every tribe member, the eels in the river, and the herds of animals as they were stalked by scarlips. The first time he tried, he became so dizzy he stumbled and fell.
Saka sat next to him. He offered Angus a small piece of some delicacy, and Angus accepted and ate without even asking what it was made of. He’d stopped being cautious about the food long before… yet it really wasn’t that long. The college year hadn’t ended yet. It had barely been six months since he’d first arrived in Demonside.
“I told Usi not to come to our tent tonight.”
Angus sighed, and tension slid from his body. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been dreading another night of knives and blood.
“Good.” He didn’t want to do any more of that, but he could see how it was possible to use someone’s pain to heal them. That was useful. He gave his arm a scratch and then had another drink and finished the water he’d brought with him. “I’m thirsty all the time, but I think it’s more than that.”
Saka was silent for a moment. “It is the beginning of Demonside sucking th
e life out of you. I saw it in your eyes today. That’s why Usi isn’t coming. You’re putting too much of yourself into what you do, instead of using what is around.”
“Too much rebalancing.” His lips twisted into a smile. There’d been less of that and more being together because it was fun.
“Maybe. It is something we will have to be aware of. Something you need to work on so you do not exhaust yourself.”
“Yeah. Use the magic around me, not what’s in me. But it would leach out anyway. It’s what Demonside does.” He swallowed, and his throat felt dry. What if the underground didn’t open the void? What if something happened and the college wiped out the underground? He exhaled and released those fears. There was no point in dwelling on them, even though he was tempted to start the useless circle of what-ifs.
Saka nodded. “So why are you here alone, temping the predators who are brave enough to get close to camp?”
“None are close.”
“You cannot reach out far enough. There is a pack of scarlips following a herd of parrils.” Saka pointed to the left.
Parrils—they were the spotted things that looked like a cross between a guinea pig and an elephant but with a hide as thick as his thumb. They grew to just above knee height and were quite tasty, kind of like duck.
“Then they won’t be after me.” Angus stretched out his legs and leaned back. The sky was a deep purple, dotted with stars. So many stars. Some people back home believed that there were aliens on other planets. Were there aliens on other planets in Demonside too? “Have you ever seen a feathered demon?”
Not even the birdlike creatures he’d seen had feathers. They had wings of skin for gliding or were more like giant insects. They weren’t birds at all, but they seemed to have the same role as birds would have.
“No. Have you?”
He should’ve talked to Saka about it days before, but between walking and cutting, he’d kind of forgotten. He’d forgotten about Terrance too, which made him feel like shit. Demonside was all-consuming, and it had started to consume him. His heart beat a little faster. The void would open, and he’d go home to recharge. He would be fine.