Lucifer's Litigator

by TJ Nichols

  What? Was Tom suggesting they get a room? Already? William’s heart gave an extra beat as temptation took hold. He’d hoped to have that chance, but he couldn’t go back to the secret dates and sneaking around so Tom’s friends and family didn’t know. He deserved better than the constant chafe of knowing he wasn’t worthy to be seen with. “Are you… out?”

  Tom kissed William, and for a heartbeat, William didn’t know how to respond. It was what he wanted, but they were still being watched. They would know. They would report. He’d be in trouble come Monday. But Monday was two days away. He might be free by Monday.

  He might be free within the next hour.

  The kiss wasn’t enough—this wasn’t a fairy tale, after all. Maybe sex with the ex would work. He regretted not saying goodbye, but this weekend they could relive the past and break up properly. Then he’d be free… and what would happen to Tom? William drew back. He didn’t want to use him.

  Tom’s hand was on his cheek, his thumb smoothing along William’s jaw. “Scared?”

  He wasn’t afraid, at least not afraid of Tom. He shook his head. “You should be. I’m sorry I got you involved.”

  “Too late for that. And since you won’t tell me and the bartender’s giving me the creeps, we should get out of here.”

  There was nowhere they could run to that would be safe, nowhere they could truly be alone. When people felt like they were being watched, they usually were, but most brushed it off as paranoia.

  “You really want to get a room?”

  “Why not? You won’t talk, so what else can we do?” Tom grinned.

  William winced. “I didn’t want to see you just for that.”

  Was he remembering their past as more than it was? Perhaps for Tom it had just been sex and that was all William was good for—a bit of ass to experiment with. But the idea was more appealing than it should have been. It had been decades, but he remembered what it was like to lie on the sun-warmed sand and let one thing lead to another. There’d always been places they could be alone, stretches of beach that hardly anyone used. That summer had been the best of his life. The rest had been colder and emptier.

  “Pity.” Tom’s hand fell away. “We had some good times.”

  William grabbed his glass and downed it in a couple of gulps. He needed the illusion of courage. Then he grabbed Tom’s jacket and kissed him.

  The burn started in his fingertips. For a few seconds, he was able to ignore it, then he had to let go. He gasped and stared at his hands, but they were his and they weren’t smoking or scorched.

  He reached for Tom again, but the burn was more intense, and he pulled back. He wasn’t allowed to even hold what he wanted.

  “That’s cheating,” William said to the bartender.

  “No, it’s not. Section 44 part C.”

  He had section 44 memorized. Part C prevented him from acting in a way that could break his contract—but it was supposed to prevent accidental breakage.

  He was deliberately trying to break it.

  Tom’s gaze flicked between the two of them. “This is just getting weirder.”

  “This doesn’t concern you,” the bartender said.

  “Section 45. It does,” William countered.

  “Section 46. He isn’t to know.”

  “He doesn’t,” William said.

  “He is standing right here.” Tom leaned on the bar and glared at the bartender. “Why don’t you stick your sections up your arse, mate.”

  The bartender stepped back, shock etched on his face. “No need to get hostile. I’ll have you thrown out.”

  Tom shuddered. “Don’t bother. I’m leaving.” He grabbed William’s hand.

  William expected his fingers to burn again, but nothing happened.

  It wasn’t because he was no longer being watched. It was because he wasn’t being active. He couldn’t grasp his own freedom. It had to be handed to him. Tom had to free him… and he couldn’t tell Tom how to do it. But the revelation was enough of a spark to keep hope alive.

  TOM MARCHED toward reception, Will in tow. Cold sweat broke out on his back. All of a sudden, he was back in a war zone and he didn’t know who the bad guys were or where the exfil was.

  He should walk out of the hotel and get as far away as possible. Whatever was going on was messed up in a way that made his blood cold. It was way, way too weird. He liked facts and logic, and he couldn’t figure his way out of this. He’d seen the bartender become… possessed. That was the only word for it. A whole room of people had become possessed. He didn’t even believe in possession, but he couldn’t find another way to make the pieces fit together.

  He’d seen… possession… in villages. At the time he thought the look was hate or fear, but those dead eyes… they’d chilled him then and they chilled him more now he knew what it really was. They needed to get away from other people. Then maybe he’d get the truth out of Will.

  Alcohol buzzed in his blood, and he was caught in that moment where he shouldn’t have had anything to drink or he should’ve had much more.

  He was supposed to be enjoying his high school reunion, talking about the old days and hearing about some guy’s boat or holiday or massive win on the stock market. None of them wanted to hear about what he’d gotten up to. He wasn’t what the school would describe as a success. But he didn’t actually care. He’d lived his life.

  He glanced at Will. What had Will been doing? Nothing good, evidently. A bitter thought rose from the back of his mind and spread. If he hadn’t been so self-involved and if he’d kept in contact, then maybe things would have been different. In every mission he’d always made sure he never left anyone behind, but he’d left behind the most important person a long time ago.

  Not tonight. Not again.

  He stepped up to the woman at reception, sure he was going to regret staying to fight when retreat would be smarter. “Hi, I’d like to get a room.”

  The woman looked up, and her expression changed to the now-familiar vacant, soulless stare. “No vacancies.”

  Tom’s heart beat faster, but instead of running, he leaned on the counter. “That’s bullshit. I don’t know what you are or what game you’re playing, but I want a room.”

  “There are no rooms.” Her voice was as flat and colorless as a sheet of paper.

  He stepped back. “Fine. I’ll go next door.”

  There were half a dozen hotels down the road and more scattered around the city. Perth wasn’t that big, but they’d get room somewhere or go back to his place if they had to. These things couldn’t be everywhere.

  Will put a hand on his lower back. “Tom, there aren’t going to be any rooms anywhere.”

  Tom held the gaze of the woman, who wasn’t a woman right then. Her eyes held a faint red shimmer, as though something was trapped within.

  “This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have come tonight.” Will’s hand fell away.

  “Why don’t you have a look at section forty-whatever.” He should’ve paid more attention to the clauses. “As you said, I’m involved.” He stared at the woman. “I’m involved. And I don’t know what that means, but right now I want a room. I suggest you or the demon possessing you—”

  She blinked. “There’s a room on level fourteen. Would that be acceptable? Twin beds?” She glanced between them as though nothing had happened.

  What had just happened?

  He’d mentioned demons and possession. Tom turned to glance at Will. Who held his soul?

  Spring

  Twenty-five years ago

  EXAMS WERE in two weeks, but it wouldn’t matter if they were in two months. Tom didn’t think he’d be ready. He’d scrape by as he usually did, much to his parents’ disappointment. Why couldn’t he be smart, like his older brother or like Will, who’d begun tutoring him halfway through the year when it became clear to everyone he wasn’t going to pass his final exams without help?

  He’d seen Will around, and they shared a few classes. But they didn’t exactly move in t
he same social circles, even though Will had attended some of Tom’s school football matches since the tutoring started. Tom refocused on the page. Calculus did his head in. Didn’t the Greeks have some wars to fight or sagas to write instead of coming up with this shit?

  If he didn’t need a good math score to get into ADFA—not that he’d told his parents he’d applied—he wouldn’t be spending the best part of his weekend trying to make sense of it. His parents still thought he was going to university to study something medical. Instead he was going to the defense force academy to do engineering and surveying, assuming he could get a good enough score. He really hoped he didn’t need calculus there, because Will wouldn’t be with him to explain it three times.

  There were two things that made ADFA very attractive… well, maybe three—it was on the other side of the country, he’d have a guaranteed job and a bit of an adventure at the end, and he’d get paid. He’d have his own money, and his father’s threats to cut him off for every minor infraction would be worthless.

  “Are you even trying?” Will brushed a lock of dark hair off his forehead. It was a move Tom shouldn’t even have noticed, yet he’d been noticing for weeks—the way Will held his pencil, the way he adjusted his glasses, the way he was super friendly with a few of the guys in the drama club who everyone knew didn’t date girls.

  Each to their own and more girls for him.

  So he shouldn’t be looking at Will like that.

  “I am…. It just makes no sense.”

  “It doesn’t have to make sense. Just follow the rules. You’re going to have to get used to that.”

  Tom grimaced. The rules were the downside to his plan, but he’d been to the recruitment office in Perth and had a good chat to some people. He thought he could adjust to military life. It couldn’t be worse than some of the dumb rules the school imposed just so it could keep its rep as an elite boys’ school. It was the most pricey in Perth, and it churned out doctors and lawyers at an astounding rate.

  The school also offered a few choice scholarships to very smart kids who otherwise would never be able to afford it. That was why Will tutored in his spare time. It was the only way he made money. Tom had been to his house once. It was a really small two-bedroom house an hour away from the school. But his mum was nothing like Tom’s. She cared about Will, not what he did.

  When she told them to leave the door open, Tom almost died. Will just laughed and told her they weren’t dating. That’s when he knew for sure about Will. And since then he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Will in all the ways he usually thought about girls.

  Tom forced a grin. “I’ll look pretty good in uniform.”

  Will considered him for a moment longer than was needed, and it made something in Tom’s chest squirm.

  “I reckon you will.” He tapped the page with his pencil. “But you need to get this sorted or you won’t be going anywhere and you’ll be stuck here in this awful hellhole.”

  The hellhole was his bedroom in his parents’ five-bed, three-bath Mosman Park house. It wasn’t a mansion, but Will’s house could’ve fit twice on each floor. Will’s house probably could have fit in the pool.

  Tom lowered his gaze to the page, not knowing what to say. Will had met his parents and seen the way they literally looked down their nose at him. Tom had thought that to be just an expression until he’d seen it for himself. He’d been ashamed and had wanted to crawl under the Persian rug, but he didn’t know if it was because he was embarrassed by his parents or because of his friendship with Will.

  Will noticed, but he ignored it with a slick smile as though it had happened too often before. Tom still had no idea what he should’ve said. He never stood up to his parents, not if he wanted to use the car or extend his curfew to go on dates.

  His gaze drifted back to Will. If they went out, it wouldn’t be a date. They could go to the movies and get a few drinks as friends. But the boner pressing against the fly of his jeans suggested otherwise.

  Fuck. He hoped Will didn’t notice. The idea only made him harder, and his mind skittered down the path of what Will might do with the boner if he did notice. He knew what it was like to have a mouth on the end of his dick. And Will had a very nice mouth….

  No. No. No.

  Calculus and his eventual escape from Mosman. Focus.

  Throb.

  Will’s pencil scratched the paper as he worked to finish his assignment while Tom had managed only three questions.

  He was so fucked. He wouldn’t even pass the test on Monday.

  “If you fail, your parents will fire me.” Will nudged his glasses up. “As much as I love spending Sunday arvo here, it is almost summer, and I want to learn how to surf, so I need the money to buy a suit and board.”

  “I’ve got a spare board.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” Fuck, he’d said the wrong thing again.

  Will gave him the grin that Tom only ever saw when Will deliberately got under his skin. Arsehole.

  “I was teasing.” Will’s hand brushed Tom’s arm, and the shock of the touch raced through his body and settled in his balls.

  This wasn’t right… but something about it… he didn’t know. Will didn’t look away this time, and Tom couldn’t. He swallowed.

  What would it be like to kiss Will?

  It wasn’t like he was attracted to lots of random guys—just Will—and that was okay. Will’s tongue peeked between his lips before he pressed them together.

  The room was too hot. Tom couldn’t breathe.

  What would Will taste like? Not lip gloss and gum. Like the cola they’d been drinking?

  “I….” He couldn’t just lean forward and kiss him. Could he?

  Will glanced down and then adjusted his jeans. So it wasn’t just him. Tom couldn’t help but look and wonder what it would be like to undo the button and put his mouth on a dick. Oh fuck. He looked up, and their gazes clashed again.

  “This may not be a good idea,” Will said carefully, as though they were discussing catching tiger snakes.

  “I know.” His parents would legit kick him out of the house if they caught him kissing Will or any boy. “I don’t even know why I want to.” But he couldn’t deny it, and since Will had already realized, it was too late to pretend he didn’t want to have Will’s tongue down his throat.

  Will shrugged and eased closer. “It’s a one-time offer. We never talk about it again. No weirdness, and you don’t get your parents to fire me.” He held out his hand to shake on the deal.

  “You’re going to make a hell of a lawyer.” He grasped Will’s hand, sealing the deal, and then closed the distance between their lips.

  Their teeth clinked, but then it was good… better than good. Will knew what he was doing. His tongue did things. His mouth was sweet from the soft drink, but his skin was rough from not shaving. A shiver traced down Tom’s spine, and his dick twitched. He knew what he wanted to do as soon as they got this assignment completed.

  He drew back, breathing too fast. Will watched him the way one watched a stray dog, waiting to see if it would attack. That stung just a little.

  Tom cleared his throat, but no words came. His tongue was still reliving the kiss.

  “You need more practice.” Will picked up his pencil and pointed to the next question on the math assignment, but Tom had no idea if Will meant math or kissing.

  Chapter 4

  LEVEL FOURTEEN was really thirteen, because hotels didn’t like to use unlucky thirteen. William leaned against the mirrored wall. He’d paid for the room without thinking about the cost, the way Tom had so many times when they were teens. Tom hadn’t argued or said anything, since he got the receptionist to offer up a room. The key was clenched tightly in Tom’s hand, as though he planned to use it as a weapon.

  “What exactly are we going to do with a room?” As soon as the words left his mouth, William regretted those two, rather quick, drinks. There were plenty of things they coul
d do and many that he’d thought about over the years. When he was single, he’d often think of Tom and what might have been, which was better than watching the news and holding his breath, hoping he wouldn’t hear Tom’s name. He’d hoped tonight would end up with a room, but he’d thought it impossible.

  Tom glanced at him via the mirror. “Talk.”

  William shook his head. He couldn’t talk about the things that mattered. He didn’t know how he’d screwed up so badly. He was with the one person he wanted to tell, and he couldn’t breathe a word.

  “I’ll talk. You can nod your head or something.”

  “We can talk about other things.” They had decades to catch up on. The elevator chimed and the doors opened. William peeled himself off the wall. “Or we don’t have to talk at all.” He brushed past into the hallway with Tom close behind.

  William hadn’t expected to be watched so closely or so obviously. No matter what he did, Tom would now also be watched. William wouldn’t be at all surprised if the hotel caught fire or there was some other random event that saw them kicked out.

  He’d lodge a complaint with HR on Monday. He was allowed a social life, and he hadn’t broken any rules… yet.

  Tom swiped the key and pushed the door open. The room was dark, except for the city lights streaming through the window. Tom opened the bar fridge and pulled out two tiny bottles of liquor. “You want?”

  No. He shut the room door. “Sure.” William caught the tossed bottle and cracked the lid.

  Tom took a drink from his bottle and tossed it in the trash. “You sold your soul.”

  The truth stuck in William’s throat, but all he could offer was a denial. “I sold nothing.”

  Tom considered him for a moment. “She was possessed. Everyone was possessed. Weren’t they?”

  William nodded. He could confirm what Tom guessed. “Me meeting you has made my employer worried about my out clause.”