Believe It Or Not

THE BROTHERHOOD 12: BELIEVE IT OR NOT

Willa Okati

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The Brotherhood 12: Believe It Or Not Willa Okati

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Copyright © May 2007 by Willa Okati All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 978-1-59632-462-6 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader Printed in theUnited States of America Editor: Olivia Wong Cover Artist: P. L. Nunn Dedication

For “Merlin,” “Nimue,” “Loki,” and “Numfar,” and in memory of “Ringo.” Purrrrrrrr. . Prologue

This is a story about the impossible. Things that can’t be real, but are. Things that shouldn’t work the way they do. Things that don’t behave the way we expect them to. The impossible things are part of our everyday lives, and you’ll see them if you stop and look -really look. Do you believe? ***** Immediately following the meeting of the Brotherhood in book 1,Amour Magique,wherein the idea of going to the club was proposed and agreed upon...

“Lord, Lord, what fools these mortals be,” Liam murmured to himself as he nimbly made his way down the crowdedCharleston sidewalks. “What manner of men squabble and take a vote, a very vote, on whether or not to accept my offer of a night of pleasure?” To think the men of the Brotherhood had been of the verge of refusing his offer! Lucky for them, they had not. Quite lucky. Liam had it in mind to use the planned night at Amour Magique as not just a good time, but as a means to help his Brothers find the true love they each craved. All of them needed someone to love, though a good half of the men in the group would never admit it. “They are enough to make anyone throw up their hands, then surrender the fight,” Liam grumbled. A woman, short and squat, gave him an odd look as she passed him on the sidewalk and clutched her purse tighter. Liam ignored her and muttered on as he walked. He had gotten into the habit of talking to himself some centuries ago and saw no reason to stop. Most people who didn’t know Liam took a single look at him and thought:Lunatic. Harmless, but bananas . People whodid know him thought much the same, but bah! Such was life. And Liam had lived a very, very lengthy life. Frustrated, Liam nimbly kicked an empty soda can off the pavement, lofting it into a nearby trash bin, neat as you please. He could and normally did manage his own affairs quite capably, but in the matter of the Brotherhood he was beginning to wonder if he had overreached himself. Trading aTear of Lilith ... oh, he trod in dangerous waters there. Lilith, his mother. What would she say if she knew? Perhaps he should find out. No? Yes?

Yes. He would call upon Lilith and ask for her guidance. Not the happiest of prospects, as Lilith was capable of severe discipline if she was displeased with someone, but the wisest nonetheless. She would know if he had been wrong to do what he’d done. Surely the Brothers deserved happiness as much as, if not more, than the other lovers of men that Liam had helped through the centuries. Every Brother had been done terribly wrong at the hands of their former partners -- they would not love again unless drastic measures were taken. And Liam had grown fond of the men, from prissy Micah, the ex-model, to gentle David, the antiques refurbisher, to good-humored veterinarian Allen. Harrison, however...Harrison bothered him. Often silent during the meetings, the tall, solidly built man had an air about him that made Liam uneasy for reasons he couldn’t name. Liam could not readHarrison as he did the others. That lack of knowledge made planning forHarrison ’s evening at Amour Magique difficult. A troubling situation. What Liam did know of the man was bad enough.Harrison appeared to be a one-hundred-percent cynic when it came to matters of the heart, having been betrayed by his old paramour Oliver. They’d not only been lovers, but good friends as well, given to teasing one another.Harrison had known how to laugh when he’d had Oliver in his life, and he had trusted Oliver with his heart, his body, and so much more... until the day Oliver disappeared. Harrison’s lover had left no note or any traceable phone number. AsHarrison had once told the Brothers, Oliver had simply vanished without a word. What the lecturer had not told the support group was that Oliver had also cashed in their mutual CDs and IRAs, adding more injury to insult.Harrison would likely have sued if he’d been able to find the man. Given the circumstances,Harrison hadn’t had the funds for a lawyer or a private investigator, and the police had merely snickered their way through a farcical “investigation” of what he'd heard them call a "fag fight" before closing the case. For all that,Harrison still kept a picture of Oliver and had mentioned its existence before. Liam would have liked to believe thatHarrison kept the photo to remind himself of better times, as the man had intimated to the Brothers; instead, the incubus suspected the image of Oliver served as a symbol of proof that men could not be trusted. The game had gone to Oliver -- and Liam knewHarrison never let himself forget how easily he had been, and could again be, betrayed. Thus,Harrison had abandoned any hint of hope of finding a decent man, training himself out of the ability to love. Even Collin, that cold-as-ice stockbroker, seemed more likely to thaw. Yes,Harrison would be a challenge. “Well, well, you never know until you try, yes?” Liam cheered himself on a bit. “He is only a man, after all, no matter how aloof he holds himself. Amour Magique will tap and tap, like a miner seeking a vein of gold, until it finds a way in. The club’s power never fails.” Despite the continued wary looks of passersby who glanced at him and saw him apparently merrily chatting away to no one, Liam’s mood was greatly improved. He found his way home content and unimpeded. Homewas a vast estate that had long since been bought by a soulless corporation and redone into condominiums. Liam could have afforded one on the top floor -- indeed, he could have afforded to buy the entire complex if he chose. Rather, he contented himself with a modest space left over after renovations, charitably called an “efficiency apartment,” and rented at an exorbitant fee. Snug and cozy,

the place suited him as a hidey-hole for the time being. He had to enter around the back; his apartment’s door faced away from the street so as not to be an eyesore. Liam dug a single key out of his jeans pocket and fitted it into the lock. In truth, he didn't need keys, not as such, but he liked them and it suited his whimsy to use them. The door swung open, revealing the Spartan lines of his home in the half-gloom of the streetlights. It took but a word to ignite candles and to start a fire in the tiny grate. He didn’t need the blaze, for the weather was warm and he could always adjust his internal body temperature, but he liked the crackling sound and fragrant scent of the flames. As for the candles, they were the illumination of seduction, his favorite. Give him a beeswax taper over an appalling modern lamp any day. Now that the place was suitably aglow, he could see his home more clearly. No doubt the men of the Brotherhood would be surprised at how plainly he lived. Cheap, serviceable gray carpeting. Walls painted a bland -- and supposedly soothing -- shade of cream. One battered couch, a scarred bed, a vintage microwave, a small dorm refrigerator, two sets of plain ceramic dishes and two sets of silverware, a single wooden goblet, and of course, the iron candle sconces. A mirror hung on the wall by the door. His only other decoration was a picture of Lilith as rendered by a street artist inLondon . Liam didn’t consider the drawing to be an accurate representation of the Lady as he knew his mother, but the sketch -- stark lines that managed to convey her as both beautiful and terrifying -- had always pleased Liam. Who knew how many guises his mother had taken over the years? He certainly didn’t. Lilith might well have looked like the sketch once. There had been a spot of rain when he’d left the Brotherhood meeting; Liam was soggy. He dried himself by absently chanting the powerful words of an old spell, one which came in rather handy on just such occasions. Then, on impulse, he stripped naked, folding his jeans and shirt neatly over the arm of the couch. Ahh, so much nicer! Incubi always did feel their best when they were free of clothing. They hadn’t been created to be bound by jeans or robes or even -- ha! -- fig leaves, after all. Comfortable in his nudity, Liam settled himself cross-legged on the floor before his fire and basked in the toasty glow. He knew his hair would be frizzling into fuzzy ringlets from the heat, but eh, what matter? He had other things to concern himself with. A Tear in exchange for the Brotherhood’s entry into Amour Magique -- and all that that entailed. A steep fee. Too steep? Would he find himself regretting the bargain? Liam had thought he knew his mind. Now, he found himself not quite so certain. Ah, well. There were times when even an incubus needed a bit of advice. Liam thrust his bare hand into the fireplace and picked up a glowing ember. The fire didn’t scorch or singe his flesh. “Mother, have you a moment? It is your wayward son Liam who calls you.” He added no pleas or flattery or bribes. Lilith, first wife of Adam as the story went, had thousands of offspring, the Lilim, and many affairs of her own to attend to. She would come, or she would not. Liam waited patiently, ready for whatever might happen. It didn’t matter that he was undressed. If his

mother came, she would take no notice; nudity was the natural state for an incubus. To while away the minutes in anticipation of Lilith’s response, he hummed a small tune he’d learned in seventeenth-centuryRussia . Then, he engaged in several mathematical puzzles drawn in some spilled ashes before trying to see if he could wiggle each toe independently of the others. He had never quite gotten the knack. “This little piggy went to market,” a woman’s rich, fruity voice scoffed. “Honest to Pete, Liam. You’re cute as can be, sure, but are you ever going to grow up?” “Mother.” Liam sighed in pleased relief at the sight of his parent. Lilith appeared in the hearth as a ghost among the flames. She grinned at him -- a frightening look for someone like Liam, who didn’t trust in the ties of blood to keep himself free from harm. “Hiya, Liam. Or if you want to be formal... ‘How now, spirit!... Whither wander you? Either I mistake your shape and making quite, or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite call’d...’ my kid.” Her words were biting as usual, for Lilith was not a gentle lady. In spite of that, Liam could hear the undercurrent of affection. To amuse her, he returned her quote with a quote. “‘Thou speak’st aright; I am that merry wanderer of the night....’ Liam, as I am now known.” Lilith snorted; however, he could tell she loved their banter. “Like I don’t know which of mine you are. I’m old, and I’ve got way too many of you little bastards to keep up with properly, but I’ve still got my eye on each and every one. Don’t you ever forget it, either.” “I will not,” Liam promised. He never had, for a particular reason of his own: Lilith did have a multitude of children, but he often suspected himself to be a favorite. She liked the unusual, and a gay incubus definitely qualified. “Will you come out and meet me?” “Maybe. Got anything to drink?” “Domestic beer?” “Pansy-assed horse piss. Nothing else?” “A sports drink? Very good for boosting one’s energies.” “Try harder.” Liam thought. “Ah! I had almost forgotten, but I do have a bottle of tequila. A gift from Bree, the rebel among those in the Brotherhood. I must warn you; he said it tasted like dung when he passed it off to me.” “And you took it?” “It amused me to do so.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve heard about this Bree. If he thought it tasted like dung -- you better believe I’m pretty damn sure he didn’t use the word ‘dung’ -- it’s probably good stuff. Here, give me a hand.” Lilith reached out from the hearth. Liam stood and helped pull his mother into the room. Once out of the flames she took on solid form and stood with her hands on her hips, scanning the room with the occasional roll of her eyes. Liam humbly sat back down and admired her. Lilith liked to, as humans said, move with the times. That night she appeared to be a young girl, no more than twenty-one years in mortal age. She’d styled her glossy black hair into a rough-and-tumble boyish shag with the tips dyed crimson and wore heavy Goth makeup, including black lipstick. A fitted black men’s undershirt, black jeans, black boots, and studded collar with matching bracelets completed her ensemble. “So, you mentioned tequila? And criminy, Liam, I raised you better than this. What are you doing living like a monk in a basement instead of living it up? Comeon .” Lilith waved one hand, decorated in chunky silver rings, and the room filled with lush pillows in a rainbow of colors, decadently inviting furniture with soft cushions and rich fabrics, and popular art in silver frames. Liam liked things the way they had been but knew far better than to refuse Lilith’s gifts. “Thank you, Mother,” he offered in polite response. “Shyeah, whatever. Looks a little better, but damned if I’ll do the whole thing myself. Don't you use magic to finish the rest of this; get your hands good and dirty, okay? It’s great for the ‘soul.’” Lilith cackled. “So, you ever hear of Home Depot? I’m thinking you need track lighting in here, son. You gotta get your head out of the Dark Ages.” Liam chuckled. “Again, I thank you. And may I say that you look wonderful, Mother?” “Yeah, well.” Lilith shrugged as if she didn’t care, and then she preened as if she did. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. The Goth look? More of an ‘emo’ kinda thing, but it throws the fear of -- heh -into the guys and dolls I pay a visit to.” She grinned, revealing sharp white teeth. “So, now that this place is fit for company, I’m going to have a seat.” She did just that, flopping onto his newly plush, pouffy couch and crossing her legs at the ankle. “What’s up, sonny-boy? Just wanted to say hi, or is something on your mind?” Liam knew Lilith was already aware why he had called her, but he humored her and responded. “I needed to speak with you.” “Yeah... kinda wanted to have a word with you, myself.” Lilith twined one finger around the heavy silver pentacle necklace she wore. “I heard you traded one of my Tears. I’mLilith . The original tough bitch, depending on what holy text you read. I cry maybe once every million years or so. The Tears are priceless, and you tossed one away for a boys’ night out?” “‘A merrier hour was never wasted there.’” “Sure, throw the Shakespeare back in my face; go ahead.” “Mother, I did trade one Tear for the sake of my friends, but I kept the other you gifted me with,” Liam

explained with proper humility. “I still hold the one you shed in triumphant joy when you fought off my brothers and sent me on my way, shielded against harm from any of the other Lilim. I told the manager of Amour Magique that what I traded him was a Tear you wept when forbidden to copulate with one thousand demons a day. In truth, the Tear he now holds was simply one that you shed in anger at Adam in the Garden of Eden.” Lilith’s annoyed expression softened a little. “Yeah, well... fine, those Tears are crap. They’re not nearly as emotionally significant, so I'll let you get away with playing Trading Post this time. I’m still pissed at you, though. You should have at least asked, but, nooo, you just jumped right in.” “My only worry is that I have offended you.” “Bullshit, that’s your only worry. Liam, your heart’s way too big for an incubus. It’s gonna get you in trouble someday.” Lilith placed a finger against her lips. “No, wait, it already has. Do you have any idea what this little adventure is gonna cost you? Sonny Jim, you’ve been alive for sweet, fancy Moses knows how long, and even I can’t tell if you’re going to be able to hack what you’re up against withHarrison .” “I know it will be hard.” “Damn right.” “But I believe I can do this.” “You’d better. When any son of mine sets out to do something, I expect him to do it right. Meh. You’ll probably be okay, but I’ll give you a word of advice.” She flicked him a sharp, knowing glance. “All those other guys in your Brotherhood will be okay.Harrison , though, he’s different.” “He... troubles me. There is something about him in particular that makes me uneasy.” “It should.Harrison is a serious nonbeliever. A man that set against love, sex, and romance is gonna be a tough nut to crack, given the deal you made and your vow to find true love for all the Brothers. He’ll fight hard against someone daring to play matchmaker. Besides, by the time you get to him, you’re gonna be pooped. So be prepared, kid.” “I see. But why?” Lilith shrugged. “The Wheel of Fortune turns and turns, and I don’t mean the game show. How oldis Vanna, anyway? Her and Dick Clark, I swear they sold their souls to something. They should’ve come to me. But yeah,Harrison ’s been around the carousel of fate so many times he ought to be permanently dizzy. Hint: he’s had a lot of bad luck when it comes to love in his previous lives. Tends to pick exactly the wrong man until he finds ‘the one.’ He’s got a soul mate, y’see, but every time they get close in a new life something goes kerboom, and they’re parted for another cycle. That kind of a karmic bitch builds up into a heavy load after a while. You know how it goes.” Ah, Liam reflected ruefully, he was getting old. So that was what he had been unable to comprehend. He should have come up with these answers on his own. “I begin to grasp the complexities involved. But, tell me, has he given himself in love before? Can that knowledge come back to him, too?” “The guy’s karma is pissed off, so to speak, but yeah, hecould fall in love again if you tickled him right. If you found the man he needs.” Lilith tugged thoughtfully on a lock of her hair. “Think real hard. Let me smell that fire burning in your wooden noggin. Anyone coming to mind?”

Liam thought carefully, sorting through this man and that one, until he found and traced a line of connection. Unexpected, yes, but a track worth following. “I believe so, Mother.” “Gonna share?” “It might be unlucky. I think not -- unless you command me to tell.” “Nah, I’m cool. And, hey, I know you mean it for the best, but fulfilling your vow is going to be risky and exhausting like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Could make you some enemies. So watch your ass. ’Kay?” Liam bowed his head. “I thank you, Mother, and I will heed your warning.” “Heed, schmeed.” Lilith, she whom nations had once feared and worshiped -- and whom those who knew well enough still revered -- leaned back and propped up her thick-soled, leather lace-up boots. “You called, I came, I saw, I warned you, blah-diddy-blah. So. Tequila?” “Gladly.” Liam grinned and rose to his feet to fetch the bottle. Seeing his mother again and receiving her blessing, such as it was, renewed the most valuable weapon in Liam’s arsenal. Hope. Chapter One

Late evening on the night of the Brotherhood’s planned trip to Amour Magique.

The Night Mare played again. She loved to gallop through such verdant pastures. Collin had been a wonderful ride... until the dragons had pushed her away. No one was going to meddle in her meddling withHarrison.

Innocent of the spirit’s games,Harrison lay dead to the world, and dreamed...

The Night Mare watched.

A barker in a top hat and natty tails raised his voice to shout over the amassing crowd of flappers and dandies, jaded with the world, eager to view something new and interesting.

He had exactly what they wanted. What they’d come to see. “Ladies and gentlemen, come and feast your eyes upon this wonder of wonders, this most amazing of artists, this daredevil of disaster!” he chanted enthusiastically. “No, you will not believe what you are about to see, ladies and gents. The man you’ve all been waiting for is ready to dazzle your very senses. Watch as he attempts to free himself from three thick chains -- yes, three! Three thick chains -underwater! Oh, yes, yes, young lady, this is definitely something to tremble over. Those who are sensitive may wish to look away. But the rest of you, come and witness this wonder of wonders. Will he make it out alive?” The barker wanted to tug at his collar, uncomfortably aware that Houdini didn’tcare if he survived. Made the barker nervous. Hush-hush rumor had it that the guy had been unlucky in love. Hadn’t everyone else been in the same boat at least once in their lives? Guy needed to move on. Trouble was, the barker kind of figured that was what Houdini was trying to do with these stunts. Move on for good.

The Night Mare tossed her mane. This was an interesting start and a promising trail. More. Deeper. She galloped forward.

“Henry? Are you there?” “Shh.” Henry covered his lover’s mouth with one broad hand. He tugged the man’s slim body against his own and removed his palm to replace it with his lips. “Someone might hear,” he whispered against his lover’s mouth. “Then it’s over for both of us.” “We’re hidden. No one followed me. I’m sure of it.” “Are you certain?” “Sure as I can be. Kiss me again.” Henry met the man’s tempting lips, unable to resist their allure. He tasted the yeastiness of the beer his lover had been drinking and a faint hint of precious rosemary. He tasted the man himself and could not help but moan. “Oh, yes,” his lover crooned. “Come with me. Our usual place in the wine cellar should be fine. No one will find us there at this time of night. Move your feet, Henry.” Henry’s partner in sin pressed the full length of his body along Henry’s, rubbing against him. Both were aroused -- they always were during these brief stolen moments, despite the danger -- and they had to bite back cries of excitement. All the same, Henry shook his head. “I don’t trust the cellar tonight.”

“Whyever not?” “I just...” “Don’t you want me?” Henry’s lover wickedly grasped Henry’s rear and squeezed. “I want you buried up to your bollocks in my ass. I want your lips around my prick. I’ll die if I don’t have you soon.” “Die.” Henry felt a chill that left him uneasy. “The word rings in my ears as if a prophet has cried out. I would you had not spoken it.” “What do you think I am, a magician?” “I have often wondered.” Henry’s lover rolled his eyes. “Rubbish. Kiss me again, and see if you find courage against this meaningless fear.” Their lips met, the kiss long and eager. Henry had all but forgotten his unease and would have tugged his lover along to their usual meeting place, equally eager -- if, at that moment, Father Abbot had not come around a corner where no one should have been wandering. He saw them, and then he raised the alarm...

The Night Mare pawed the stony ground beneath her feet, whinnying a laugh as the sleeping Harrisonwrithed in his bed. He didn’t like that memory, did he? She’d let him have another.

“No. You don’t understand. I am his -- brother. Let me in, please. I only want to take him a cloak against the cold and some food to ease his hunger.” The burly guard, solid as an oak tree with almost no neck, shook his head and then spat at Hal’s feet. He honked like a gander when he laughed. “Aye, and I know what kind of ‘brothers’ this bugger’s had. Likes o’ him don’t need no cloaks. Cold days or warm, they gets no special treatment.” “The food, then,” Hal pleaded. “I know how the Tower is like to feed him. Please, let me send him the victuals.” “Hmph.” The guard glared down his short, squashed nose. “Aye, and wouldn’t I be a stupid man to agree? It’ll be poisoned, I wager, to help him ’scape the chopping block, or there’ll be a set o’ lock-picks baked into a pork pie. Get on with you. I’ll have none o’ this.” “Please!” “Are you wanting a room o’ your own in the Tower?”

“No.” Hal gave up in defeat. “No.” “Be on your way, then.” Hal took his basket and walked away, dejected and fearful. He’d taken too great a risk by coming to offer what he could to his beloved. King of Fools, he’d hoped they would let him in to see the man he loved. S’truth, he had even dreamed they might have a moment alone to touch, to kiss, to share one last embrace. He ached so for his heart’s love that he often dreamed of him -- and woke with tears on his cheeks and seed on his stomach. Thus, he had acted foolishly and borne out this day’s action. Fool, fool, and fool again. Ungrateful fool, for his lover had refused to name the man with whom he’d been spied in the midst of a carnal act. He had thought to spare Hal, but now Hal had probably brought his own death down upon his head. The guard might have been dull as a dung heap, but Hal had seen him putting two and two together. Doom approached on heavy feet. Hal could hear the clunk of its hooves already. He had no hope; he knew what would be. Hal’s lover was of high enough rank to be imprisoned in the Tower. The official charge was congress with the Devil and practice of the black arts -- and to be sure, there were lords who’d gladly have seen his partner’s head in a basket for such a thing -- but everyone knew what was really what. And so the man bided in the Tower to await the taking of his life. Hal, a common man, would be lucky to have a stay in a dungeon pit before the axe chopped off his own head.

The Night Mare was pleased, well-pleased.Harrison’s mind tasted delicious. So many lives to choose from! Selecting yet another, closer to home, she whickered a chuckle when she gave the memory a nasty twist and thought about how he would like this one. A dream within a dream.

Henry’s lover turned to face him, his visage that of a man long dead. Skin had dried and shriveled over once-handsome features, and his teeth were bared in a bony skull’s grin. “Kiss me, darling. Don’t you still love me?” All Henry could do was stare, horror drying his throat and numbing his lips. No. No. He remembered now. The man he had once loved belonged in his grave. Not here, not walking and talking and reaching for him with parchment-dry hands -- -“Ignore him,” a silky voice suggested from behind Henry. “No. You’re not Henry. You’reHarrison . He’s a thing of the past. I am here in the now, the present.” Harrisonturned hastily, both to escape his dead lover’s lidless stare and to face down the intruder. “You,” he breathed, startled. He’d seen this man before. He wasn’t quite sure where, but...

The Night Mare reared angrily, stamping her hooves. Not again!

The oddly familiar stranger fascinatedHarrison . He had one blue eye and one brown, and he wore an expression of both cunning cleverness and Puckish humor. He was covered in only a silver-embroidered robe of purple brocade, which had been left hanging open to reveal his naked body. Such a body! Pale golden skin flowed smoothly over lithe muscles. A very small amount of gilded hair trailed down to his cock, which was dark red and swelled thick, as perfect as the rest of him. Harrisonlooked and liked. His mouth began to water. The stranger fondled himself blatantly. “Yes, that’s it. Look at me, not him. Do you like what you see?” “We’ve... we’ve met before.”Harrison struggled to remember. “Where do I know you from?” “Dreams. The past, present, and future. Here. There. Everywhere. I forget, myself, when I wake up. Every time.” The man shrugged. “We’ve never exchanged spoken words outside of sleep’s realm, but that’ll change. I’ll be seeing you soon, Harrison. I’ll be seeing you on your knees, pleading for this.” He stroked his cock while his mismatched eyes twinkled wickedly. “You’ll look so sweet when you beg.” Harrisontensed with anger. No one topped him, and no one made jokes or sly gibes at his expense. No one. “Fuck you!” “You will. I will. Soon. You won’t remember me when you rise from your nap, mind. I’ll play the game a while yet, so long as it entertains me. Now, wake up.” The stranger snapped his fingers.

The Night Mare screamed a horse’s shrill scream, galloping away in a lather of fury and frustration. Had the incubus meddled with all his men? She’d settle this score, she vowed, and then she leftHarrisonbehind... for the moment.

Harrisonsat bolt upright in bed, choking off a hoarse yell before it could escape his throat. He dragged in heavy, shaking breaths instead, feeling himself sweating huge cold drops. His sheets were a twisted mess, leaving most of him bare to the air. The dreams again. Just dreams.

Only dreams. They couldn’t hurt him. He was safe in his bedroom. The last of the evening’s light trickled in through neatly aligned blinds on curtainless windows, casting comfortably familiar shadows. Safe. Alone. Safe. He’d been sleeping, taking a quick nap after work, that was all. Nothing but sleeping. God, he had to get out of the Brotherhood. Ever since he’d joined the group his lawyer Simon had founded, the dreamsHarrison ’s therapist had promised were purged from his system had come back, getting stronger and stronger every night. These dreams were pure rubbish, as were all dreams. Merely the mind's way of processing a day's events. Still, he knew he’d be much more comfortable once he and the Brothers had parted ways. Harrisonwouldn’t have involved himself with the Brothers if not for a certain unpleasantness a little more than a year back. Besides being a well-respected lecturer in sociology and cultural anthropology despite his young age -- not much more than thirty -- he was also the author of several books that disproved everything from myths to holy texts, to urban legends, to all types of so-called magic. He tended to make a surprising amount of enemies among his readers. Enemies who often tried to pass as friends.Harrison was usually clever enough to sort liars from honest men and women, but Shoshanna, who had posed as an eager fan, had fooled him. Damned female. She’d had the gumption to give a “tell-all” interview in which she’d claimed he had faked the evidence in every one of his books -- and then named him as the father of her child, insisting he had threatened her into his bed. Harrisonsnorted. As if after Oliver’s betrayal he’d have trusted anyone enough to sleep with them. Not that he’d told her any of that, of course. Well, he couldn’t bring Oliver to justice. Proving Shoshanna to be a liar, however, had been incredibly satisfying. The shock on her face whenHarrison had ended up in a witness stand and calmly pronounced “I’m gay” had almost been worth the whole ordeal. He’d found men from the Oliver years who’d vouched for his sexual preferences and other folks of more recent acquaintance who had shaken their heads over Shoshanna and said under oath that she’d tried this sort of thing before.DNA testing had provenHarrison innocent, and that had been the end of that. He’d gotten away nice and clean. Clean, that was, except for his highly respected lawyer’s request -more like a command -- that after what Harrison had been through, he should join the self-help group, the Brotherhood, that Simon had formed for gay men. Harrisonhad considered ignoring Simon’s invitation. For one, he hadn’t felt like meeting any new people; after the victorious but ultimately draining ordeal with Shoshanna,Harrison had wanted to be left alone. Ergo, he hadn’t much cared about being part of a support group. No, he hadn’t wanted a bunch of strangers’ so-called support. Besides which, the other Brothers were out-and-out messes. Gratingly brash punks, mincing queens, horrifying flirts -- and then there was Liam.Harrison didn’t even want to start thinking about the small man. The little twit put his nerves on a razor’s edge every time they met. Always so smug, as if he knew something no one else did and wasn’t going to share.

More, Liam always seemed to find new ways to get them all in trouble. Case in point: tonight’s visit to a dance club. There were places whereHarrison felt comfortable, but a techno-heavy, strobe-lit dance floor? No, no, and no again. The idea made him feel ridiculous and clumsy, bad habits he’d never grown out of and tried his best to hide. He’d voted against going but had been outvoted. So he’d agreed. Stupid move, butHarrison always kept his word once he gave it. Sighing, he glanced at his watch, a chunky, plastic, utilitarian model bought for accuracy instead of style. Seven? Damn, I was only going to close my eyes for thirty minutes. Should I shower and shave again? Probably. Oh, well. Thereareworse ways to spend an evening . “Meow.” A cold nose thrust itself into the crease ofHarrison ’s groin. He yelped, startled, and scrambled back, away from the pert, petite black cat that had seated herself on his bed. She sat calmly, as if she had every right to be there, regarding him with uncannily intelligent green eyes. A cat that did not and had never belonged to him, but one he knew all too well. Somehow, she’d managed to find her way inside his house at least once a day, every single day, for the past two or three weeks. Harrisonwasn’t a big fan of cats. He made a living out of debunking superstitions and such, but the look in a cat’s eyes never failed to creep him out. If he ever decided to take the time for a pet, he’d buy a dog. Maybe goldfish. “How did you get in here again? The windows are locked. The doors are locked. The mail slot is bolted shut. And why am I talking to you like you can understand me?” The cat purred smugly. “Out,”Harrison ordered, pointing to the door of his bedroom. She twisted around to lick her shoulder beneath her studded collar. Oh, no, he wasn’t going to take that.Harrison had read up on animal behavior, and he knew what she was doing -- the equivalent of flipping him the finger. “Think you’re smart, don’t you?”Harrison picked up the cat, who snuggled, self-satisfied, into his arms, and carried her out to his front door. Depositing said feline on his steps, he put his hands on his hips. “This time, stay out.” The cat hissed at him. Flicking her tail up, she strolled away as if she had much better things to do anyway, and he could go screw himself. Harrisonshook his head as he watched the pest disappear into theCharleston night. Honestly. With her studded collar, the feline clearly belonged to someone, so why had she decided to annoy him? And how did she manage her reverse Houdini act? She was a puzzle, but at the moment he didn’t have time to ponder the mystery of the cat.Harrison

checked his watch.Better get moving . ***** Harrisonshowered, shaved, and dressed, absently thinking about how he could possibly use this whole club experience as the start of a paper on gay-circuit party hangouts. That could definitely be interesting. With that in mind, once he was clothedHarrison headed for the small room he’d set up as a home office, filled with computers, filing cabinets, and bookshelves with systematically arranged periodicals. The walls were painted stark white and the carpet utilitarian gray. He kept his ergonomic desk neat as a pin and the rest of the room just as organized. Microcassette recorder? No. People were often wary when it came to having their voices captured on tape and became extra touchy; they didn't seem to dare chance anyone knowing about their presence at a gay club. He nodded decisively. A small notebook and a pencil would be better; if nothing else, he could jot down notes in private moments. Should he give his e-mail a quick check before he headed out? Probably. Since he’d never made a secret of how to be contacted,Harrison usually received e-mail by the boatload. Hate letters, fan letters, and correspondence from colleagues. He always took care of business first, but if he had time afterward he liked reading the poison pen letters. The latter were usually much more interesting than the ones filled with praise. One such critical writer, who called himself “Martin,” had piquedHarrison ’s interest enough to write the man back. Highly intelligent, the man constantly challengedHarrison over one issue or another. Martin swore up and down, blind and sideways, by God, Goddess, a pantheon of other deities, and Gaia that he was an honest-to-whatever Magician, capital “M.” Harrisonfigured Martin was more likely either a canny liar or a highly functional schizophrenic. Although they were firmly planted on opposite sides of the fence,Harrison loved scrapping with Martin. He grinned when he saw there was a note waiting from his “nemesis” in his in-box, along with a flashing icon that indicated Martin was online at the moment.

Harrison, You really should be spanked. I had to hear it through the grapevine that you’re going to Amour Magique tonight? I didn’t think that was your style, darling, but what a lucky coincidence -- I’ll be there, too. Don’t get spooked, sweetheart! Trust me, I’m not stalking you (much). I’m just dying to talk to you in person and see you all dolled up. I’ll bet you look good enough to gobble when you put on the Ritz. Lord knows you look good enough to lick anyway. (I bought your last hardback with the frontispiece, remember? I know what you look like but you don’t know me, la, la, la....) I’ll wear a sorcerer’s pointy hat so you’ll know who I am. Not.

Kisses! -- Martin

Harrisonwas torn between chuckling and scowling. Martin, also gay, was possibly the most outrageous flirt he’d ever dealt with -- and given that he knew Alex, the Brother who was a former male escort, and Liam, that was saying something. Martin’s teasing was flattering, certainly, but it madeHarrison feel uncomfortably wary. So what did he do? Come right back with phrases from the stuffed-shirt lexicon.

Martin, Of course I intend to attend the club. I’ve promised the support group I’ll be there. I look forward to meeting you. Perhaps I might interview you, if you would permit that. However, I must remind you that I have always denied -- and always will deny -- your requests for a more intimate relationship. Please keep this in mind during future correspondence. --Harrison

He’d barely clicked “send” before a new message popped up.

Harrison, Interview me? Any time, lovely. But really, though, you’re so pompous in e-mail. You’ve got to be livelier in person. If not, we’ll work on pulling the big old stick out of your ass. I can think of other, more interesting things to put in its place... perhaps we could run a few field experiments tonight after sharing a whiskey and a tango or two? And yes, I pay attention to what you say. I always have. I hear you fine -- I just don’t listen. It’s much more fun this way. -- Martin

Harrisonrolled his eyes.

Martin,

Please understand that it isnotmy intention to make a fool of myself by either dancing or drinking. And for the last time, stop propositioning me. I am not interested. How clear do I have to be about this? --Harrison

Martin tried to instant message him.Harrison denied the request and waited for the letter which, inevitably, arrived.

Harrison, Now that was cold, rude, and uncalled for. You’re lucky I’m too smitten to stay mad at you (wink, wink). I have a long way to go to warm you up, don’t I? But yes, yes, don’t flirt, I know the drill. (It won’t stop me from imagining you all I want, though; I know what you look like, and I can imagine that sensual mouth wrapped around my... well... all I like. So there.) Now, darling, here’s a secret for you. I’m not just visiting Amour Magique. I live there. I’m on staff (Magician joke). I happen to know that you’ll be coming along with Bree, Collin, Simon, Micah, Quentin, David, Laurence, Christian, Alex, Allen, and Liam -- all of whom you have been oh-so-careful not to mention. Now ask yourself: how did I know that? The answer is simple, lovely: magic. -- Martin

He knew the Brotherhood and the names of its members? How?Harrison had never let the information slip. Martin had to have been snooping inHarrison ’s personal life to know anything like this. Damn him!Harrison mentally scuttled back like a hermit crab into its shell and hastily typed:

Martin, Apparently, you’ve not only not confined yourself to e-mails that cross the borders of sexual harassment, but you have also been stalking me. I will meet with you tonight as we agreed, but after that I do not want to hear from you again unless I see fit to contact you with regard to a research study. Any attempts at initiating future communication on your part will be forwarded to the police. --Harrison

Harrisonsighed. He hated doing things like this, but he wouldn’t stand for someone prying into his life. Too bad. He thought he might miss Martin. Ping! A new message popped up. No subject line, but it had Martin’s e-mail address.Harrison frowned as he opened the note.

Harrison, You would be wise to think twice before attempting to browbeat me. I have enjoyed playing the silly flirt because it amused me; however, I believe you underestimate what matter of man I am. I ama Magician, Harrison, a genuine Magician, no matter how you choose to lie to yourself about the supernatural. Iam entrusted with the magic that keeps Amour Magique running. Amour Magique is far more than any silly dance club. If you remove your blinders for a moment when you enter, youmaysee for yourself; I doubt you will, though, as you remain so stubbornly closed to every scrap of magic in the world. I have decided that, aside from taking you in any manner I see fit, I will also bring you face-to-face with enchantments that you cannot deny, and then I’ll demand the truth: do you believe, or do you not? I wonder how you will answer. But as to the other, make no mistake,Harrison, I do mean to have you. I have lusted after you for no small time now. Although you bluster and bluff about disdaining me, I can read men’s hearts. I know you want me. I say this with no conceit; I simply state a fact. We will light Amour Magique ablaze tonight. Yes, tonight. To meet me, go through the main entrance and look for a statue of Bastet (I trust you know who she is). Her pedestal blocks a service hallway. Pass the statue and follow the trail I lay out for you. Youwillcome . You don’t want to make me angry,Harrison. I will take a great deal for the sake of entertainment, but you can only push me so far. Now, you are quite piqued after reading this, aren’t you? So: forget. Get up from your computer, finish dressing -- don’t forget to make sure your socks match -- and come to the club knowing only this: above all else, you are there to meet me along the Bastet path. Youmustmeet me, though Hell itself should bar the way. Oh, and to hurry things along a bit, you will be fully aware of the attraction between us. Indeed,

as you come to meet me, you will burn and shiver with the need to fuck and be fucked. So mote it be. -- Martin

Harrisonsat back in his computer chair and frowned in confusion. What had he... had there just been an e-mail? He could have sworn he’d been reading. But, no, his screen was bare of any new messages. Not a thing from Martin tonight aside from a quick, friendly note saying he’d be at the club, too, suggesting they meet for a casual chat in person. No flirting, which was strangely disappointing.Harrison ’s pulse quickened as he stood, interest and excitement building at the thought of actually meeting the little vixen. A momentary flash of a blond man in an opened purple robe flashed through his mind. A blond man whose cock jutted out, demanding to be serviced. He was as appealing as honey wine while he whispered wicked secrets. Harrisonblinked in surprise. The vision vanished. Huh. What was I just thinking about? He turned in a slow circle, trying to put his finger on what he’d been pondering. So annoying when one forgot things like that. What time is it? Blast. I’ll be late. I can’t miss this. Grabbing the rest of what he needed -- keys, breath spray, and so forth --Harrison headed for the door. He stopped briefly, prompted for some odd reason to check that his socks matched. Then, shaking his head, he moved on.

After the apartment door had closed, the small black catHarrison had ousted earlier minced into his office, preening her whiskers. Silly man, to think locks and doors could keep her out. Foolish man, not to believe in even the ordinary magic all cats possessed. Very, very stupid man, not to recognize a big dog even when it wore a cat’s body. Lilith-the-cat hopped up ontoHarrison ’s computer chair and summoned up the dissipating remnants of Martin’s last e-mail. When she needed the mouse to scroll down, she shifted easily into her human form, long black nails clicking onHarrison ’s scrupulously clean desk. In her opinion, when she wore feline shape, mice were only good forone thing. “Well, well, well,” she murmured. Like her son, Lilith talked to herself and didn’t give a damn what people might think. “Not bad, Liam. You’ve got balls, son, trying to match these two. You’ll make me all

kinds of proud if you don’t watch out. But, okay, fine. I’m not touching the rest of that crowd with a ten-foot pogo stick; they’re all yours. I think I’ll have a little fun with these two guys, though.” She grinned the sort of grin that would have sent linebackers running away in tears. “No need to let sonny-boy know I’m fiddling around unless I have to, I think. And I don’t believe I will. Oh, yeah. This should be fun.” Shifting back into cat form, Lilith licked one paw, tapped the air, and created a portal. She hopped through with a flick of her tail, headed for Amour Magique. And they said you couldn’t find quality entertainment anymore. Chapter Two

“Well, that was amusing,” Martin murmured. Satisfied with how the night’s work had begun, he closed the lid of his sparkling new laptop and carelessly shoved it onto an overflowing nightstand. In doing so, he knocked over a half full cup of tea, three unlit tallow candles, a small silver bell, a plastic figurine of a black cat, and a nearly new bottle of lubricant. The entire collection landed with a tremendous clatter and made one hell of a mess. “Oh, honestly.” Martin clicked his tongue. Just his luck. Taken individually, the assortment of junk was harmless trinkets. However, the way they’d landed, the items had come together as perfectly arranged elements of a spell. Couldn’t just tidy them up. They were already humming with magic, and nature hated a vacuum. The energy had to be used for some purpose. Leaning over the edge of his bed, kicking aside rich purple sheets in annoyance, Martin examined the grouping. It appeared there were two ways the spell’s power could be directed. He could summon up a panther, but the animal would probably be more than a little pissed off at being magically yanked away from his jungle. Cats had their own brand of sorcery and didn’t take kindly to others tangling in their affairs. His second option would be to conjure up a full English high tea with little cakes in the shape of tabby cats. What to do, what to do?Releasing a peeved panther in Amour Magique would be tons of fun; on the other hand, he could really use a snack. In the end Martin opted for munchies over mayhem, and with a wave of his hand -- purely for show, even if there was no one else there to see it -- rolled in his own version of room service. Mmm. Smelled good. Taking a hearty bite of a watercress sandwich laced with wasabi, Martin reflected that if he’d just let the cleaning staff of Amour Magique into his rooms to tidy up, as management was always pestering him to do, he wouldn’t get himself into these situations. As if. Martin had nothing against housekeeping, but honestly, a man’s home was his castle. He deserved at

least a little bit of privacy. And if an accidental spill of his own could conjure up bloodthirsty beasts, who knew what would happen if a member of the cleaning staff decided to dust off his Work table where he composed most of his spells or poked a bit of this or that to see if it was “real” magic? Shudder. No, thank you. He put the thought from his mind as he selected a scone, slathered it with raspberry jam, and bit in with relish. There were other, more enjoyable things to occupy his thoughts with. For one, Harrison. Martin hummed around a mouthful of raspberry goodness.Harrison had first caught his eye when another, lesser magician had offered Martin one ofHarrison ’s books as a joke. Martin had been bored to tears by the dust-dry babble about physics and practical applications of science and yet highly entertained, too. He’d never met a man so utterly stubborn in his belief that if something could not be scientifically or laboratory-proved, it did not exist. Ignorant scholar. Naïve expert.Harrison really had no clue, did he? Or perhaps he did, and deliberately blinded himself. Probably six of one and a half-dozen of the other. Martin shrugged as he finished his sweet and reached for a dainty china cup of good strong Earl Grey. Two sugars and a dab of cream. After all, he didn’t have to worry about gaining weight, just as he didn’t have to concern himself with wrinkles or silver hairs. He hadn’t changed in the slightest since first entering Amour Magique over two hundred years ago. A nice little perk for those employees so inclined to take advantage. Martin, who knew he was vain as a peacock, had happily opted to stay forever young. Who’d get old and wizened when they could stay young and pretty? Besides, fresh-faced innocence worked to his advantage. People who didn’t know him didn’t take him seriously. He liked keeping them off their guard. All the better to really get them good if need be. Draining the tea, Martin set his tray aside, balancing it on the laptop. If there were any crumbs or spills, he could always conjure up a new computer. It wasn’t as if he needed an actual machine to cruise the Internet or send e-mail, anyway; he simply enjoyed doing so. But what had he been thinking about? Ah, yes.Harrison . Martin had first been attracted to the man’s mind, entertained by his mulish insistence that nothing but the concrete physical could possibly exist. He’d entertained ideas of teachingHarrison a lesson or two that would send the man screaming into the night. Then, he’d seen the frontispiece on the book and decided he’d rather haveHarrison screaming in his bed. Although he knew the man’s features by heart, Martin summoned the well-thumbed book into his hands and flipped it open to the picture page. “Yes, you are delicious, aren’t you?” Exactly the type he went for.Harrison had a definite appeal even in a black and white photo. Tall and solid, with the promise of delicious muscles -- no doubt the man exercised according to a scientifically calculated regimen. A face that was not handsome but unique and interesting. A great deal of character in

those features, no matter howHarrison tried to squash it down. Eyes wide enough to see miracles if he’d only let himself look for them, and a generous mouth made for spinning yarns instead of dry lectures, not to mention kissing, sucking, nibbling, and other good things. As icing on the cake, he had a dimple in his chin that Martin found positively cute. A proud man in the eyes of the world, to be sure. Accustomed to being dominant. To being paid attention to. To being respected. Martin glanced slyly at the selection of floggers, paddles, cuffs, and chains enticingly displayed on his wall. Ooh, it had been ages since he’d gotten to play with a virgin to dominance and submission. And he had a feelingHarrison would absolutely love Martin’s kind of games if the man’d let his hair down. The big man had occasionally given away hints in his e-mails, the sort of things most people would overlook, which betrayed his conflicting fantasies of being mastered yet steadfastly refusing to bow his head to anyone. Martin loved dichotomies, the two sides of every coin. The challenge of leadingHarrison to a place under the lash, a place Martin was certain he’d love in the end, would be a blast. It would be sweet, very sweet, to see him on his knees begging for whatever his Master chose to give. Although Martin might be slight, boyish, and blond; didn’t live the lifestyle twenty-four/seven; and didn’t indulge very often, he was one of the better Doms that Amour Magique could boast. Under Martin’s hands as the Magician took charge,Harrison would find tremendous release. In letting go, the scholar could find peace. It would have been tempting to lureHarrison in on his own, but that was taken care of. So fortunate that Liam had arranged forHarrison to visit the club. And oh, boy, didn’t Martin know all about Liam, having watched his deal with Silas in secret, then seen and felt the power in the Tear Liam had traded. Martin had been the one to magically affix that Tear over the door to Amour Magique. Not much scared the Magician, but he’d been on pins and needles handling that little baby. Brrr. Ballsy move on the little guy’s part, though. It would’ve been chancy for all of them if the Tear had rejected Amour Magique, much as a human body would refuse to accept a transplanted organ. Big-time risks, oh, yeah. But they’d gotten lucky. The Tear had settled right in. Great for business, attracting not only humans but also every paranormal being within spitting distance. Martin chuckled. Lord, if he were the type to feed off sexual energy, his powers would be fatter than a pig ripe for slaughter. He’d gotten a major kick out of watching the men in the club go absolutely ape-shit in their blind lust for one another under the Tear’s influence. Whether he believed it or believed it not,Harrison would get a big whacking dose of that good old lovin’ feeling when he walked into Amour Magique. Lust, along with the little spell Martin had cast earlier in his e-mail, should haveHarrison just about ripe for the plucking. So far, so good. Martin glanced across his chamber to his rather nice rococo clock which, although well-aged, still kept perfect time. There were things he was sure Silas -- the current manager, though the man persisted in presenting himself to the club’s patrons as the owner -- would want him doing just then, but who cared about Silas? Martin knew how to do his job, he did it well, and the way he figured things, he still had plenty of time to laze around and enjoy himself.

Speaking of which... He thought about coins again. One of the tenets by which Martin worked was that every coin had two sides. The path of destiny had innumerable forks and branches. For everything that was, there were a thousand could-have-beens. People never knew until they acted how things could have been different. Martin, on the other hand, could almost always look forward down any path he cared to and see what lay in store with one choice or another. Chuckling softly, he opened his Third Eye, which lent him magical sight, and selected a trail that would lead to a vision of what he most desired. A happy dream of something thatcould come to pass if he played his cards right. Ah. Yes. There. Martin saw the vision play out:

Harrison had come, as bidden, to Martin’s chambers, obedient as a puppy and just as eager for affection from his Master. He was the bigger of them, far more powerful through the shoulders, but that made it all the more exciting to see him on his knees, head lowered and hands splayed out on his thighs. “I believe,” he said quietly. “You asked me, sir, what I thought. I’ve decided. I believe.” Martin indulged himself by running his fingers through Harrison’s curly hair, tousling it into a mess. An adorable mess. “Good, pet. I believe you’ve earned a treat.” “Master?” “Service me.” Martin’s hands went to the fastenings of the black jeans he favored. His cock was hard, pressing against the zipper. “Take my dick in your mouth and suck me off. If you please me -- if -- I’ll give you something else. A tight ring to prevent you from coming while I lash your back with the suede flogger. I’ll drive you until you break, and if I feel you’ve earned it, I’ll let you climax. There. How does that sound?” Harrison, deliciously humbled, quivered with anticipation. “Yes, sir. Please, sir, let me taste your cock.” “Since you ask so nicely.” Martin freed his prick and regarded it with pride. He rather enjoyed being well-hung. CouldHarrisontake the whole organ into his mouth? It would be interesting to find out. He thrust his dick atHarrison’s eagerly parting lips. “Go on, pet. Suck.” Wet heat closed around his cock, and a tongue remembering long-unused skills began to lick, to taste, to please...

Martin shut his Third Eye with a contented sigh. Then, he laughed. Anyone who knewHarrison would call Martin insane for thinking such a scenario was even remotely possible. Ah, but they couldn’tSee what might be, could they?

Harrison had a sub’s heart, just waiting to be uncovered, to go there and even further, and Martin was looking forward to a good evening’s worth of exploration. After they got the annoying wrangling over real and not real over with, that is. Pity he couldn’t just throw the man down and get started. Maybe he would. Either way, bendingHarrison until he broke his self-imposed chains would be worth the trouble. This would be fuckinggreat . “Guess I’d better get on with things before Silas strokes out,” Martin said aloud as he rolled his eyes. “Work, work, work.” He slipped out of bed and picked up his cast-aside black jeans and selected a black T-shirt out of a pile of clothes that he’d washed but never gotten around to putting away. So he was a bit of a slob. Anyone who objected could sue him or bite him. He really didn’t care which. The simple outfit should have been enough, but Silas insisted on an extra bit of frippery when Martin went out into the public eye: a long purple cloak with a high Dracula collar. As if any self-respecting magician with an ounce of dress sense would wear such a thing of their own free will. Still, Silas had given the order, and it didn’t make Martin looktoo silly. He hoped. Martin exited his chamber. One of Amour Magique’s portals waited obediently for him, but he waved it aside. “No thanks, friend,” he said, careful to be kind. The portals were intelligent beings in their own way. “Maybe next time. You know I like to walk.” He got a sense of drooping disappointment from the portal before it shrank to a tiny black dot and vanished. Poor thing. All it wanted to do was please. Ah, well, he’d make it up to the portal later. For those who walked, the way into the Heart of Amour Magique could be a nightmarish tangle. However, Martin had had two hundred plus years to get familiar with the twisting paths and found his way with ease. Duck under this set of pipes, go through the fake wall there, twist the bronze duck on this set of bookcases, up a flight of marble stairs, and voila. The living, breathing Heart of Amour Magique. The “soul,” for lack of a better word, belonging to its ever-changing body. Right then the room it inhabited resembled the inside of a submarine, all dull gray paint and rivets, with a swampy, salty stench. Hmm. A bit cranky, was it? Usually the Heart liked hanging out in a nice, restful place with soft colors and cushy seats. “Hello, old boy,” Martin greeted the club’s intelligence, a little concerned. With the Magician, at least, the Heart liked to be addressed as male. “How’s it hanging? Anything wrong?” “There you are,” Silas blurted, popping through a door on the opposite side. The mook tripped on his way in and staggered like a drunken man until he regained balance. “Silas,” Martin said wryly.

“Martin, jeez, you’ve got to stop farting around like the whole world’s gonna wait for you. God, you nearly gave me a heart attack, sitting here. There’s already guys lined up two deep around the block -twice, man, the line frigging wraps around twice -- and more coming, and you just stroll in here now?” Damn. Silas, who thought he was far more important than he really happened to be, looked like he was just about ready to rip Martin a new hole. Not exactly a new look on him. One of these days, Martin decided -- not for the first time -- he’d get rid of some steam, have a little fun, and scare the literal shit out of Silas. The little prick deserved a spanking, and not the good kind. Not that night, though. Martin had bigger fish to fry, as it were, and Silas would just have to be swatted aside like the annoying gnat he was. “Calm down, Si, or you’ll blow a blood vessel. I had a few things to take care of, and it’s not like I’m actually late.” “Burst a blood vessel?” Silas snapped. “I should be so lucky, if that’s all that would happen to me! But, no, I have to deal with you crackpot wizards and portals and elves and trolls and vampires and werewolves and now a friggin’ incubus, of all God’s creatures.” “Mmm. I don’t think God had much to do with Liam’s creation. Besides, you were pretty eager to do business with him when it came to the Tear, weren’t you?” Silas went brick red and grumbled something about “expanding profit margins.” Martin snickered silently. If you cut Silas, he would bleed greenbacks. “Okay!” Martin clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Time to do that old black magic I do so well.” “You said it wasn’t black magic,” Silas accused. “Shit. You mean this is black magic? Sweet Mary Moses, mother of pearl.” He rubbed his balding scalp. “I gotblack magic running my club? You know how much trouble I could get into?” “Calm down,” Martin said, mentally addingyou twit . “It’s just an expression. My magic’s pure as the driven snow. Good old Himself wouldn’t put up with me otherwise, would he?” He patted one wall. The purr that filled the room made Silas shudder. “I hate it when the Heart does that,” he said, mopping his forehead. “Look, just get on with the show, huh?” “Two steps ahead of you.”If you’d just shut up and let me work . Martin bowed at the waist, raised his hands in the symbol of the Sun King in honor of Amour Magique’s origins, and let magic gather in his palms in the form of a ball of white fire. The Heart purred again. He liked Martin. Always had. Martin knew how to treat the old fellow right. “I come as your servant, your master, your slave, your commander,” he crooned. “Let me refresh your energies so you may fill us with the joy of the dance, the pleasure of the hunt, the thrill of mating. Take what you need, freely given by your vassal.”

Juicing up Amour Magique’s batteries took serious skill -- and the willingness to put your life on the line. The club had picked Martin a few centuries ago while he was waiting to be executed. Knowing that, even if he escaped, returning to his lover Hal would have destroyed the man’s life, Martin had been determined to go -- to save both of them-- no matter the cost. The cost... well, therein lay the rub. Amour Magique had wanted to tap his wellsprings of magical energy in exchange for Martin’s freedom, which had seemed like a much better deal than meeting the executioner. The Heart had warned Martin that the transfer of power could be dangerously draining, but Martin had kept his word and stuck to his guns. Lucky them, they’d discovered that all Martin needed to recharge himself was a little sleep, a little food, possibly some sex, and boom! Ready to roll again. A tiny glitter was the first sign of Amour Magique’s response. Martin patiently fed the twinkle a steady stream of his magic as the glow grew to the size of two fists and then ballooned, ever so slowly forming roughly into the shape of a heart floating in midair. The Heart. Not a Valentine’s Day cartoon, mind. More like the organ that pumped blood through human bodies, but different enough to clearly come from another manner of beast altogether. Silas swore up and down; the sight of the Heart always gave him the creeps. Martin, however, found the Heart rather beautiful. He laid both palms against the Heart’s sides as it solidified into a perfect, glittering diamond. “Hi, there,” he said softly. “Thank you for joining us.” The Heart spoke directly into Martin’s mind. Good to see you, son. So here we go again, huh? Since it’s you, okay. But you know, after thousands of years, I’m just about tired of this game. Moving from place to place, changing to fit the date and location, I swear it’s a drag sometimes. As long as you’re around, though, Martin, I’ll keep on keeping on. Martin grinned broadly. Probably to entertain itself while staying inCharleston , the voice of Amour Magique’s Heart had developed a heavy Southern accent. Long, drawled-out vowels and dropped consonants. One would expect an entity so ancient to speak in weighty, ponderous proclamations, but the Heart liked to chat with what he now called a “good ol’ boy’s” voice. His threats were nothing but idle words. The Heartloved his life and what he did with it. “Well?” Silas demanded. “Is the club going to play nice tonight?” He dragged a limp hankie from his pocket and swabbed his forehead. “It doesn’t get recharged or doesn’t cooperate, we’re dead in the water. No profit; and I don’t even want to think about what would happen to this club if it isn’t juiced. Er, ‘kept alive.’ Freaky-ass sentient building, my God. I should have taken that job as head accountant...” Can I zap him? Or better yet, will you zap him? A right nice bolt of lightning directly between the eyes could possibly make him a mite easier to tolerate. “You were the one who chose him as manager,” Martin replied, too softly for the pacing, sweating Silas to hear. “What were you thinking, by the way?”

I was probably drunk. Let’s you and me figure out a way to ditch that sumbitch when we move on, huh? “Moving? I likeCharleston , but where we stay and go has always been your choice. How soon?” Martin kept his voice low. Tomorrow, more than likely. The Heart sounded thoughtful. Martin pressed delicately. “Any particular reason?” Liam. Now, don’t get me wrong, that Tear is a nice little trinket. Kind of fills me up between meals, ya know? But every time Liam himself turns up, sweet as he is, things go all catawampus on my ass. And I’ve got a buzz in the force. I think his Big Bad Momma is going to stick her fingers in the pie at some point. Gah. Thanks, but no thanks. I can’t keep her out no more than I can keep Liam out, but when Lilith shows up it isdefinitelytime to hit the road. Maybe we’ll visit Californiafor a spell next. Beach boys. Yum. “I’ll enjoy the change in scenery. But--” Martin hesitated. Oh, no. “No, what?”No, you didn’t. Damn it all, you did! You’re supposed to be a buddy, Martin, but you’ve gone and fallen for one of Liam’s pals. I can see it clear as day now I’m looking for the signs. This spells trouble, pal, but I guess I don’t have to tellyouthat . Martin shrugged. “Harrisonhas attracted my attention and is one of Liam’s group, yes. I don’t plan on him being more than a night’s entertainment.” Bubba, that’s pure balls and bullshit. “Pardon?” A night’s entertainment? Hoity-toity, and not too damn likely. You’ve gone and tangled yourself up in a good, sticky web. Once you two meet... Martin got the feeling that if Amour Magique had possessed a human head, he would be shaking it. Let’s just say that when you get together, it’s not gonna be a song and dance to let him go. Or for him to let you go. And that gets me worried, Martin. You’re not gonna want to leave him. He’s not gonna want to say good-bye. Kind of a shame. After two-hundred-whatever years, I’ve gotten to like your style. “What are you saying?” Use the brain in your big head. Once you and Harrison make a connection, dumbass, you’ll either have to go or convince him to stay. I’ve read his books. Jeez, you know how to pick ’em, don’t you? Ever hear aboutnotrising to the bait? Try it sometime. Anyway, you meet this guy, and you’ll end up with the choice to remain with him or leave. Them’s the facts, plain and simple. If anyone else had been making such prophecies, Martin would have laughed in their face. The Heart of Amour Magique didn’t lie, though. It couldn’t. “I would never leave you.”

Son, a man will do anything for love. “And if I should, by some bizarre chance, decide to go?” Hmm. Ever hear about what happens to humans when they spend some time with the elves? They’re young while they stay there, but stick ’em back in the mortal world, and-“They grow old in an instant and die,” Martin whispered. Might happen. Might not, what with your mojo to keep you going. “I don’t think I’ll take the chance, thanks.” Yeah, well, we’ll see. The Heart glittered like a disco ball.Okay, son. Get this show on the road. And by the way, if you want a sneak preview, scry the outside of the club, right by the entrance ropes. Liam and his boys are early.Harrison’s with them . The Heart paused as if in thought.From what I’ve read, he’s a prick, but from what I see,he’s a tasty prick . “Never met one that wasn’t,” Martin murmured. “Thank you, old friend.” He bowed again. Any time, kid. And, hey, if we don’t meet again, good luck. I really did -- do -- like you a hell of a lot. “Thank you.” Martin turned to Silas, who was staring at him, as he always did when Martin talked to the Heart, as if Martin’d grown a second head, complete with green scales and antennae. “We’re ready. The club’s good to open. Now go have a drink before you collapse, will you?” Silas glared at him but stumbled past all the same, making a beeline out of the chamber of the Heart and no doubt heading straight for his office where a snifter of double-plus-good brandy waited. Along with his secretary. The secretary was too pretty for Silas, in Martin’s opinion, but what the hell. Alone at last. Martin hesitated and then raised one shoulder. What the hell, indeed? But why limit himself to scrying when he could get up close and personal? A portal peeped open a tiny black eye. “There you are.” Martin petted the edges. “Smart boy. Now, take me to the hidden window near the entrance of the club. I want to get a look at all the fresh meat in line.” The portal widened obediently until it was large enough for Martin to step through. He entered without fear. Portals could be a hell of a thrill ride, but he was used to them to the point of being bored as he traveled; he sometimes thought a little modern elevator music would be nice during the journey. When the portal deposited him at his destination, Martin touched it again. “Hang out for a few. This won’t take long.”

He stepped toward the window and peered out. A nifty little magical aperture, it would look just like another section of the wall to an outside observer, but from the inside you could get a nice view. Now to find what he wanted to peek at... Ah. Yes. There.Harrison , dressed in a soft-blue, button-down shirt and casual pants, just as nicely big and broad in real life as in his photo. Edible. “I seeee you,” Martin teased, though he knewHarrison wouldn’t notice anything. “You’re in for the time of your life, Harry, my boy.” Harrisonglanced up. At the wall. At Martin. Martin couldn’thearHarrison , but he was good enough at lip-reading to know when someone was shouting “Shit!” Martin jerked back.Double shit! That was definitely not supposed to happen. The window was an established entity. Hidden. Always hidden. One could look out, but no one could see in. Simple rules that had never changed, not even when the club itself changed shape. “Heart of Amour Magique, are you playing games?” he demanded. The Heart either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him. Martin scowled and put his hands on his hips. Well. Wasn’t this just great? Chapter Three

Harrisonrefused, absolutely refused, to stand frozen in place and gape at an ordinary warehouse wall. He could not have seen what he’d thought he saw. Walls were man-made creations of brick, plaster, steel, what-have-you -- all according to time and place. They were unable to part physically like theater curtains and let you look through. Impossible -- so it hadn’t happened. Couldn’t have. Yeah, he had simply imagined the walls had opened to reveal a man who looked uncannily familiar. Blond, slim, and attractive, except for the melodramatic high-collared cloak he wore. Impossible. Right. Or... Hallucination? No. According to the dictionary alone, a hallucination is a “sensory experience of something that does not exist outside of the mind.” I’m neither sick nor crazy. I don’t believe in delusions. Delusions are one step away from illusions, and theyare not real. Get it together,Harrison, he ordered himself.Back in control . One member of the teeming masses that surrounded the Brotherhood on all sides grabbedHarrison ’s elbow. “Hey, got a light?” Harrisonglanced down -- fairly far down -- to see a young woman, of all people, dressed in modern

Goth high fashion. She reminded him a bit of outrageous Bree but seemed considerably less surly -- at first glance. She was, in fact, smiling. A slightly alarming smile, what with the black lipstick she’d slathered on, but if Bree had ever unbent far enough to smile instead of snarl,Harrison hadn’t seen him do it. The throng of hyped-up young men who were seriously ready to party was makingHarrison nervous. And after Shoshanna, he was fairly wary of women, but this one, with her cheerful air of friendliness, didn’t know him for who he was. He would be just another man in the crowd to her, so he had no reason to be rude, after all. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying not to sound aloof. “I don’t smoke.” “Damn.” The girl -- woman? -- tapped her cigarette against the palm of one delicate hand. “Oh, wait, maybe I’ve got matches.” She started digging in the pocket of her leather jacket. Harrisonexamined the small female, surrounded as she was by a near-literal ocean of men, and found himself growing concerned for her safety. “Miss? I don’t mean to offend, but is it possible you’re lost? This isn’t exactly a ladies’ club.” “Female, schme-male.” The girl snorted. “Aha. Gotcha.” She tugged out a battered book of matches, struck one neatly on the sole of her boot, and lit up. After a lusty inhale, she exhaled a plume of white smoke with a sigh of contentment. “Yeah, this is the big gay club, I know. I wanted to come check it out. Can’t blame a dame for being curious, can you?” “I suppose not,”Harrison allowed. “It’s still not safe. Some gay men, er, don’t like women intruding on ‘their’ stomping grounds. I’m not saying their attitude is right, but in a crowd this size you could be putting yourself at some considerable risk.” “Nah, no worries. I can take care of myself.” Harrisondidn’t doubt the woman could. She was small, to be sure, but clearly tougher than the proverbial nail. She rippled with lithe muscle, her black-painted nails were sharpened to razor points, and the heavy boots she wore could certainly do some damage. Those were merely the trappings. At a second, more thoughtful glance,Harrison could see the way her eyes reflected the sort of cynical ennui it should have taken centuries to accumulate. She radiated Danger, with a capital “D.” She made him uneasy. Nervous. “Good evening, miss,” he said stiffly, attempting to turn away. He wanted a private word with Allen to see if the veterinarian had any advice on how to get rid of his unwanted feline visitor for good. Damn. Gone again. Allen seemed amazingly peppy that night. No sooner didHarrison try to reach him than Allen disappeared into the crowd of Brothers, only to pop up even further away. The woman hooted from behind him. “Miss, huh? Yeah, you called me ‘miss’ before, too. Very ‘old school.’ I like it. Look, I’ll be straight with you, no pun intended. I wanna get inside. You mind if I tag along? Yeah, yeah, I’m taking my life in my hands going into Gay Mecca, I know. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. I want to see for myself what this place is all about.”

Harrisondarted a glance at Liam, who had busied himself straightening the lapels on a God-awful, shiny orange shirt Collin wore. The stockbroker looked like a pumpkin. An uncomfortable pumpkin. He’d probably been subjected to one of Liam’s makeover hijackings.Harrison had escaped more than one of those himself. “I really don’t think they’d let you in, miss.”Harrison found it strangely easy to talk to the small woman, his usual caution dissipating like a rising fog. “Besides, there are only enough tickets for the group I came with.” “So? I’ll sneak in under your coattails. Or I would, if you had a coat.” She bounced on her heels, excited as a child. “Bet you fifty bucks I make it past the bouncers.” “Miss, I really don’t think it’s a good idea. And I don’t gamble. It’s probably for the best if we just say good-bye now.” “Sheesh, it’s not like I’ll give you girly germs.” She poked her finger into his chest. The sharp nail hurt. “Circle, circle, dot, dot, now you’ve had your cootie shot. We’re both safe.” Harrisongave up. “Fine. Fine! Don’t be surprised if Liam stops you. You’ll only have yourself to blame.” “Liam. Is he the short one with curly hair? Nah, he won’t stop me. He’s way too busy riding herd on the rest of you guys. No one but you will know I’m here. You can call me Lily, by the way. Like Lily Munster, get it?” She twinkled atHarrison . “It’s a pleasure. Oh!Harrison . I’mHarrison .” “Gotcha the first time.” The woman dropped her cigarette and crushed it efficiently with one thick boot sole. “Put ’er there, Harry.” Coming off Lily’s lips, the nickname gaveHarrison a strange chill that turned into a tingle when he took her hand for a shake. On an impulse he didn’t understand,Harrison shifted his grip so that he could lift her knuckles to kiss them. “Very nice. Very, very nice. I like you, Hal.” As a rule,Harrison disliked nicknames. Hearing them fall casually from Lily’s lips should have annoyed him; instead, they gave him an unexpected shiver and produced more of the damnable déjà vu. He tried for a smile and ended up with an uncomfortable grimace. “Thank you.” Well, this evening certainly isn’t proceeding as intended, is it? What did the philosopher say... life is a series of coping with unplanned events? Something along those lines. The cultural scientist inHarrison lit up with a new idea.Now, seeing how a woman reacts to this sort of environment, that sounds interesting. Good idea for a case study. If she makes it inside, I’ll call this night’s observations preliminary results . “Hey! Hey, you, Mr. Head in the Clouds.” Lily jabbedHarrison again. “Looks like your group’s taking off. And I’m right behind you.” Harrisonreally did have his doubts about Lily’s probability of success at entering the club, but to his

surprise she hid neatly behind him and breezed past the bouncers with their ropes, right into a deafeningly loud lobby. He couldn’t hear what Lily said over the blast of techno music, but he could see her laughing as she twirled in a circle. Giving him a wave, she jerked her thumb toward the dance floor he could just see opening off the foyer and dove inside. Damn. So much for studying her. Well, unless someone kicks her out, she shouldn’t be hard to find -- a hen among all the, no pun intended, cocks. I’ll catch back up with her later. Harrisonglanced around to get a bead on the group, figure out their game plan, but -- poof! The Brothers had all scattered like dust in the wind.Harrison would have expected them to hang together in a clump, but apparently not. The only one left was Liam, hands in his pockets, head tilted to a side, an annoyingly gentle smile curving his lips. “You do not wish to go and celebrate with the others?” Liam asked. Damn you. I know you’re making fun of me somehow. Just nothing I can call you on. “Soon,”Harrison lied. With relief, he remembered his promise to Martin. “I have an appointment to keep first.” “With the man you saw earlier when we stood outside the walls of the club?” “What?” “Do not play coy,Harrison . I saw you, and I saw you see him, this man. See-saw, saw-see. Is he the one you intend to meet?” Harrison’s temper sparked. “I get it. A little joke on your part. I don’t know how you managed to pull it off, but I’m not amused, Liam.” “Neither am I, and I had nothing to do with the hidden window opening. I am intrigued, though. I ask again: do you intend to meet with this man?” “I have no idea,”Harrison replied through gritted teeth. “I’ve never seen a picture of him. The sleight-of-hand figure I saw might or might not be him. Probably not, but I couldn’t say for sure.” “A pity. Would that your intended looked like the oneI , too, saw in the window. Young and pert, golden and athletic as Apollo himself... a delicious dish.” “You saw? I mean, I didn’t notice what he looked like.” Like hell he hadn’t. The man he’d either seen or been tricked into believing he saw was one of the best looking he’d ever laid eyes on. Where had he seen that face before...?

Harrisontouched his forehead to the floor. Cold, made out of stone blocks, it felt good against his overheated skin. He had long since shed his clothes, but he was on fire with lust, feverish in his

passion for the man at his back and the promises of what he could deliver ifHarrisonbehaved. “Put your hands behind you,” a smooth voice dictated. His Master’s voice.Harrisonobeyed immediately. “Good, very good. I knew you could learn. Ah, ah, ah -- keep your ass raised high, remember? There, that’s better. Now, I had mentioned giving you a treat. I’d like you to beg for what I can offer.” “Please, Master,”Harrisongasped, trembling. He could hear the soft whish of whiptails as his Master drew them through his fist.Harrison’s skin ached for the lash. He needed the pain. Needed the peace. Needed the love -- and the proof of love -- written on his flesh. “Master, I will beg. Please, please, please.” His cock was so hard it hurt, but he knew better than to touch himself, much less come before he had been given permission. “Use me.” “You learn very, very well, I see.”Harrisonsensed his Master raise the whip. He envisioned the man, slim yet strong, golden as a god, one eye blue and one eye brown. They had come so far from whenHarrisonhad first seen him outside Amour Magique. “Since you ask so nicely, pet.” The flogger came down acrossHarrison’s back in a fiery burst.Harrisonraised his voice and howled with both agony and ecstasy.

Harrisongasped as he shook himself and returned to reality. What on earth had just happened? Dream -- hallucination -- vision? How had it all felt soreal ? How had he let himself slip like this? He wasn’t a daydreamer by habit, and he didnot indulge in fantasies about strangers. Not even porn stars. It seemed like an invasion of their privacy somehow. “Is something the matter?” Liam inquired placidly. “You look quite as if you have seen a ghost.” “No! I -- I’m fine.”Harrison cleared his throat and forced the vivid images out of his mind. “Enough is enough. Who was he, Liam? Some other friend of yours?” Liam chuckled. “‘’Tis strange... that these lovers speak of.’” “Excuse me?” “‘More strange than true: I never may believe these antique fables, nor these fairy toys. Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, such shaping fantasies, that apprehend more than cool reason ever comprehends.’” “A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”Harrison said, recognizing the source of Liam’s burst of quotation. “I’ll take reality over fantasy, Liam, which I think you know, or should know by now.” “‘There are more things on heaven and earth... than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’” Harrisonfavored Liam with a stony stare. “I have other things to do besides listen to you quoting the Bard. Are you finished wasting my time?” “Bah, you old stick-in-the-mud. You almost make me despair. Yet I vow Amour Magique will have its way with you despite your mulish temper. You will be singing love songs before morning’s light.”

“No,”Harrison said with exaggerated patience, “Before morning’s light, I will be safe at home, sound asleep. By myself.” “Just the way you tell yourself you like it. Ah, you lie so well you convince yourself such things are truth. We will see, we will see.” Liam glanced at the dance floor. “I had best attend to my own affairs. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth. Tally ho!” The little man strode into the seething throng of club-goers and disappeared. Harrisonrolled his eyes. Alone at last. Now, where had Martin said they’d meet? Cat... something about a cat... a statue of a cat? “Bitchin’! Check it out, it’s Bastet. And there’s a service path behind her.” Lily? Turning, where he could have sworn there was nothing before,Harrison saw a narrow hallway blocked by a statue of the cat goddess in full Egyptian regalia. Lily, looking as disheveled as if she’d danced her way through half the club floor, pale skin aglow with perspiration, waved cheerfully at him from beside the sculpture. “Service path. A trail into the belly of the beast. I’m gonna see where this leads. Wanna come?” Yes. Martin said he works here; he told me about the Bastet path. He said... he said... Lust began to burn in the pit ofHarrison ’s stomach. If his slacks hadn’t been loose, he would have found himself with the sudden uncomfortable need to adjust them. Thankfully, his blue shirt hung untucked over the whole of his groin. He had a definite feeling Lily would have found his arousal seriously amusing. For his own part, he was perplexed. Why on earth was he developing an erection? Martin. The name chimed in his mind.Martin. Martin. Martin . What the hell?Harrisonwiped his forehead. Although he tried to push them away, he continually saw flash visuals of the blond man with mismatched eyes every time he thought of Martin. “Lily, I’m sorry, but I think I need a drink of water,” he confessed. “Did you see a fountain anywhere?” “Whassamatter? Dizzy?” “Sort of.”Harrison shook his head, repeatedly squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them, over and over. “I feel somewhat... I need to get my bearings.”Get my control back . “Damn. Sorry, man. You think water will help? No prob, I got you covered.” Lily darted away, quick as a blackbird. While she was gone,Harrison rubbed his temples and tried his hardest to reorganize his thoughts into orderly patterns. The harder he tried, though, the less linear they became. When Lily finally returned, bearing a small paper cone, he was fit to be tied. “Drink up,” Lily chirped with an encouraging slap to his back.

Harrisontilted the cone and drank without a second thought. When he tasted the clear liquid, or rather, when it burned a path over his tongue, he nearly choked. Vodka! Strong, searing vodka. He swallowed with an effort, coughed, and glared at Lily. “I suppose you think that was funny.” “Fuck, yeah. You shoulda seen your face. Come on, now, don’t get mad. If any man ever needed a drink, you did.” Lily tossed the emptied cone on the ground and looped her arm throughHarrison ’s. “All right. Let’s follow the yellow brick road.” Despite fuming internally about how some people deserved a proper spanking no matter how old they were,Harrison let himself be tugged along. He got so lost in thought he failed -- almost -- to notice how, though the statue of Bastet was large enough to almost completely block the service corridor, they slipped past with ease. I wonder if they pump some sort of mind-altering chemical into the air?Harrisonpondered. He’d been stoned once or twice in college, and this felt about the same as those experiences.A narcotic compound not yet available on the streets. A dirty trick courtesy of the management to trip the clients out and make them lose control. ‘Nights never to be forgotten’ -- oh, absolutely. Shameful . “You think too damn much,” Lily informed him. “Noodle any harder and you’ll make my own head hurt. Keep walking.” Harrisonsighed and did as he’d been told, having come to terms with Lily as a woman from the breed of She Who Must Be Obeyed. Resistance was futile. They turned into a walkway that looked to have been lifted directly from a medieval castle, all but dripping rough-hewn rock and empty, soot-blackened torch holders. Lily seemingly fell in love.Harrison ... didn’t, though he couldn’t have said why. Should he try to warn her about Martin? He cleared his throat. “Lily, vodka aside, I am enjoying your company, so please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m planning to meet someone down this corridor, and I’m not sure how he’ll react to you.” “Worry, worry, worry. Ease up, Hal. He’ll love me. Everyone loves me.” Harrisonhad his doubts, but after a moment’s deliberation decided to save his breath. Lily might be digging her own grave, but it’d take bigger balls than he had to stand in her way. “Why do you come here, Doubting Thomas?” a sepulchral voice demanded, apparently from nowhere, gravelly as stones in a tumbler. “This is the road to the Magician. Why do you seek him? What makes you worthy of his august presence?” Oh, now, really. Enough was damn well enough. “Who’s speaking?”Harrison demanded. “Take it easy,” Lily chided. “They’re just gargoyles. Guardians of the path. Cool, huh?” She let go ofHarrison ’s arm and danced nimbly over to chuck a carved stone demon under his beaky chin. “There’s a boy. Good boy. Quack for Mama.” The gargoyle’s awkward mouth flapped. “I... Mama?” Lily laughed with the sheer abandon of a child.Harrison eyed the sculptures, amused himself. Although he wasn’t close enough to tell for sure, he suspected they were ordinary foam puppets that were

spray-painted to look like stone. A simple trick. “Road to the Magician, you say?” he asked, humoring both Lily and the orchestrator of this flight of fancy. “Sounds like the man I came to meet. Would his name be Martin?” “Sing out loud for Mama,” Lily crooned, still tickling her gargoyle. The gargoyle coughed with a sound like pebbles in a blender. “Er... yes. Martin is the Magician here.” “Goodgargoyle.” Lily petted its flaking head. “Gargoyle wanna cracker? I’ve got a packet of saltines around here somewhere. You go on ahead, Harry. I’m gonna hang out with these guys for a while.” “Oh, no. You are?” the gargoyle blurted in dismayed tones. Harrisonalmost chuckled out loud. Poor bastard, whoever operated the thing. Yeah, whoever pulled the puppet’s strings had most likely never dreamed about anyone like Lily. “I’ll be on my way, then.” “He wants Martin,” another gargoyle piped up, this one damnably un-shy with its information. “Really wants Martin. He’s hard for Martin. Wants to use his cock, dirty cock, dock the cock the way Martin likes. Dirty boy plus dirty boy equals two dirty boys.” “Watch your mouth.” Lily clipped that gargoyle across its muzzle. “Don’t mind these guys, Harry. G’wan, get outta here.” Cursing the deep red blush he could feel staining his cheeks,Harrison got out while the getting was good. Fortunately, he found that he had another long corridor to travel down, still made of rock but blessedly free of any puppets or toys, and he was able to pull himself together before he reached the end, where a door stood slightly ajar. He would have gone in, but voices he could hear told him the space was already occupied. “...don’t understand. Mikey’s never been unfaithful,never , but one look at this boggart and he turned his back on me. I thought I’d die.” “There, there.” Harrisonhad been about to turn around and back away until the room emptied -- eavesdropping was the height of bad manners -- until he heard the second person speak. Heknew that voice. Had heard it in his fantasy. This was the voice his mind had given that nebulous “Master.” Impossible. Couldn’t be. Merely his imagination. Damned if he could move away, though. “The cards don’t lie, darling.” God almighty, such a sexy voice.Harrison ’s hard-on grew stiffer. He’d heard the expression “he could fuck you with his voice,” but never before had he experienced listening to one that measured up to it. This man’s voice could not only fuck you, it could make you come and then gladly lie in the wet spot.

“See?” the fellow went on. “This is Mikey, moving away. Bye-bye, Mikey. And good riddance, the cheater. Now, now, don’t cry. Clean that pretty face up.These cardshere say you’re going to meet someone even better, and soon. There, that’s the smile I wanted to see. Forget about the past and move on with the future. Dream. Believe in your dreams, and it’s just like magic. You’ll see.” Harrisonheard sniffling, then rustling, as if the one Mikey had betrayed had thrown himself into the other man’s arms for a hug. “Thank you,” he said, voice raw probably from crying. “I didn’t know what else to do, and I never thought someone like you would have time for someone like me, but thank you, thank you, thank you.” The fantasy man chuckled. “You’re welcome. Now, why don’t you go back down to the dance floor? Take a few turns around and see who you find. And if you get the chance, stomp on Mikey’s instep for making you upset. As for me, I believe I have another visitor.” “Oh. Oh, sure. You must get a lot of them. I’ll go. But thank you. Thank you.” “Yes, yes.” Harrisonstepped back as a surprisingly young man stumbled out. He was almost androgynously pretty as a girl, with long silver hair and a pointed chin. For some reason the youth had also chosen to wear prosthetics on his ears, which made them pointed as well. Heaven help the current generation; thoseLord of the Rings movies had done strange things to young folk who wanted to be just likeOrlando orhave Orlando when they grew up. The boy glanced up atHarrison . Harrison could only imagine what he must look like to the lovely young thing -- a tall, bulky, scowling man -- but surely not so frightening as to elicit the response he got, which was a squeak and a hasty “’Scuse me” before the lad darted out of his way and went from zero to sixty running down the hall. Harrisonstared after him, baffled. “Oh, don’t mind Kells,” his fantasy man drawled. “He’s a bit shy. Actually, no, he’s not. He’s a bit of a seer, although not when it comes to himself, more’s the pity. He’s also smart enough to get in out of the rain, or out of the eye of the storm, whichever you prefer.” The silky, sexy voice dripped with amusement. “Well? Aren’t you going to turn around and meet me face-to-face? I know what you look like, of course. I think you know what I look like, too.” Harrison’s hands tightened into solid fists, neatly clipped nails pressing into the skin of his palms. “Stop playing games.” “Who said they’re games?” the Magician taunted. Pivoting,Harrison glared down at a blond man with one blue eye and one brown, resplendent in his astoundingly gaudy purple cape with its high starched collar. Damn it all, hewas the oneHarrison had seen earlier. “Martin, I take it?” “One and the same.”

“I assume you’d prefer to call yourself the Magician?” “Whichever. When we’re just being casual, Martin works fine. Good to meet you in person at last. C’mon in.” Martin flashedHarrison a look comprising equal parts sex, mischief, and cunning. “I know you want to.” The Magician licked his lips. “I know you wantme . By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes. And, if he’s very good, he’ll be allowed tocome again. Get it?” Chapter Four

Harrison’s heart started hammering as the Magician spoke his innuendoes. He felt the need to loosen his collar so he opened two buttons and then shifted from one foot to the other in an attempt to adjust his cock. “Youknow I want you? Really?” “Really and truly.” Martin was proving as hypnotizing a personality in the flesh as he was in e-mail.Harrison could hardly take his eyes away from the man, who was as gorgeous as he’d been inHarrison ’s strange dreams and in the window trick, golden and lithe. Tempting as forbidden fruit. “Truly and really.” An attack of shyness overcameHarrison as Martin stared him over with no-holds-barred smoldering sexual interest. He hid his nerves behind stilted speech he might have given during a lecture. “An interesting statement, given we’ve only now introduced ourselves in person. I might be gay, but I am not one of the subset who immediately falls into bed after one look from, as I think you intended, a pair of ‘bedroom eyes.’” Martin laughed, apparently tickled pink. “You’re as good as I thought you’d be. Come in, why don’t you?” “Not yet, thank you.”Harrison folded his arms across his chest and stood firmly in the doorway, refusing to move until he was taken seriously. He looked around, assessing the Magician’s chamber. If Martin had been the one to decorate his quarters -- if they were really his own and not borrowed for the occasion -- he certainly did take his “Magician” persona seriously, didn’t he? The walls were made from roughly carved stone blocks plastered together by an oddly gritty mortar. A bare stone floor was partially covered by a ludicrously elaborate Hindi design rug (meant to be a flying carpet, no doubt). There was sparse furniture in a carved wooden medieval style. Shelves decorated with the sort of tacky bric-a-brac that cried cliché -- candles, skulls, worn leather books, et cetera, et cetera. A single window with an arched top and a fine view out into a curiously purple night sky. Torches mounted the walls, blazing cheerfully, the only other source of light besides the dimmed illumination ofCharleston ’s nightlife coming from the window. Harrisonsupposed the whole rigmarole was meant to impress. On the contrary, the room bored him. He’d expected something a little more original from Martin than a prefabricated “abracadabra” style. “Bedroom eyes. Mmm,” Martin commented, his voice laced with deeply sexual interest. “Pity you didn’t fall into them. They usually work. I’ve asked you twice, but I’ll ask a third time. Come in, won’t you?”

Martin entered the chamber ahead ofHarrison , not even waiting to see if he was being followed. His air of smug self-confidence madeHarrison ’s teeth itch, while the rest of Martin’s demeanor jangledHarrison ’s nerves. “I came here to meet you for a face-to-face interview,” he said woodenly. “No more. No less.” “Interview with the Magician?” Martin winked as he reached a low table made of some shining dark wood and ran his fingers over the glass top. Despite himself,Harrison couldn’t help noticing how long, delicate, and beautiful the man’s digits were. The hands of an artist, a musician, or... a skilled trickster. A thief. Martin picked up what looked like a deck of cards. He palmed them to and fro; then he winked atHarrison as he did a Vegas-style shuffle, sending the cards in an arc from hand to outstretched hand.Harrison couldn’t quite tell for sure in the torchlight, but he would have bet money the cards were a Tarot deck. Before Martin could offer,Harrison headed him off at the pass. “Thank you, but I’m not interested in having my fortune told.” “Who said I was going to tellyour fortune? The cards can show us ever so many things.” “The Tarot is a mysticized remnant of card games first developed in the fourteenth century,”Harrison recited on autopilot. “According to many reliable records, there is no mention of the cards being employed in so-called arcane usage until the 1800s.” “Who told youthat ? You never heard of Hebrew Kabbalah divination? Egyptian Senet? Nordic runes? Celtic ogham? The I Ching? Fortune-telling cards were all the rage in the Middle Ages, too. Don’t trust everything you read on the Internet. Records can lie, you know. Ever heard that history is written by the winners?” Harrison rattled on over Martin’s teasing question, trying at the same time to ignore the effect Martin’s tantalizing voice was having on his cock, now fully hard and insisting on being paid some attention. “Tarot decks are fanciful and attractive playing cards. Nothing more.” “If you think they’re such a hoax, why not let me read your fortune and see what I canSee ?” “I’ve heard the practiced spiel about mysteries and the unknown from plenty of others.”Harrison shook his head. “I don’t need to hear this particular speech again.” Especially not in your voice. Your voice might make me want to believe. Which would be bad. Very bad. Listen here, body. I am not led around by my cock, understand? Martin might be beautiful, but he’s not someone to go and get all jolly over. Behave. “You’re not the slightest bit interested in watching me work the hoax in person so you can point and laugh and take notes on where I go wrong? No?” Martin clicked his tongue. “Honestly. You’re as rude in person as you always are in e-mail. Ill-mannered as a peasant. Fortunately, I’m willing to overlook your lack of training because you’re just too tasty not to indulge myself.” “Should I thank you?” “It’d be a start.” Martin licked his lips suggestively. “Do enter. It’s a harmless invitation.Come .”

Harrisonfelt a firm pressure at his back, as if some unseen presence was pushing his body forward. He took several startled, stumbling steps inside. The door slammed behind him. Wonderful. Done with strings, I’m guessing. And of course it’ll be locked from the inside. He probably has a deadbolt, too.Harrison sighed and resigned himself to being the Magician’s “prisoner” until Martin got tired of playing games. “Nice trick. Am I supposed to be amazed?” “I’d be awfully flattered if you are.” “Then I regret to tell you your attempt to astound me has failed. I don’t impress easily, particularly not over penny-ante stage tricks.” “Darn. And I really was going to read your cards, too. It would have been ever so interesting. Oh, well.” Martin tossed his Tarot cards aside onto the nearby table. He dropped gracefully into a wooden chair decorated in once-bright paints, now fading, and the gleam of gold. Good Lord, was that real gold? Harrisonstopped looking when he noticed Martin watching him with a grin. “Always analyzing every little doohickey you run across, eh? I figured that’d be your thing. As for calling my command over the elements stage tricks, you would, wouldn’t you?” Martin’s smile lines crinkled with teasing good humor. “Tell me, Harrison,” he said, drawing the name out as if he were running his tongue alongHarrison ’s dick, “what do I have to do to get you to believe one single word that comes out of my mouth?” “You might try telling the truth.” Martin’s bi-colored eyes widened with childlike innocence. “Is that all? Then, how’s this? I am not a Magician. I am a fake. I surround myself with trinkets and toys and capes and gargoyles and skulls and the special kind of drippy candles that Italian restaurants like to put in wine bottles because that’s what fakes like me do. I’m smart enough to fool almost everyone, but I can’t pull the wool over your eyes, you clever thing, you. Woe, for I am discovered!” He threw a hand across his forehead and sagged. Then, he glanced up, sparkling with mischief. “Did it work?” Harrisoncounted to ten. Slowly. “I can see this is going to be a long night.” “We can only hope.” “And please stop flirting,”Harrison begged.It makes me want to run and hide or tackle you to the floor. I don’t know which. Don’t make me have to choose . “Stop flirting? Can do. Why would I play around with words when I finally have the chance to get my physical hands on you?” Harrisonblinked. He hadn’t seen Martin get out of his chair, much less dart around, but the man’s slim hand was suddenly onHarrison ’s shoulder, pushing him into an opulent seat. “Delicious,” Martin approved, running his beautiful hands overHarrison ’s upper back. “I love a man

with a neck like a bull’s. Mind you, the girth must make finding collars that fit a real bitch, but you can only ask so much from stores. Frankly, I like making my own gear.” He pressed hard asHarrison tried to resist him. “Sitdown .” Harrisonsat. The chair, apparently unaccustomed to anyone his size, creaked a bit under his weight. “There,” Martin crooned, leaning forward to pinHarrison in place. Standing in the position he was, Martin keptHarrison unable to move out of his seat unlessHarrison was willing to get rough. It seemed Martin knew him too well.Harrison would never hit anyone, no matter how tempted. Too reserved, too clumsy, too easily trapped, and Martin somehowknew it was so.Harrison had no choice at all but to remain still when Martin lightly touched two fingers to both of his temples. “Let’s see what’s inside, shall we? Snips and snails and puppy-dog tails, since that’s what little boys are made of?” Martin pressed in close enough forHarrison to catch his scent of rosemary, pine, patchouli, and smoke. Intoxicating. Close enough to makeHarrison uncomfortably hard, desperate for release. Tempting. Very tempting. Deliberately tempting. No, more than tempting. Offering. Martin’d laid himself out on a silver plate, all ready forHarrison to take the bait. Harrisonwanted to give in, let go, and run wild. Drugs. It must be more drugs, or maybe something subliminal.Harrison shook his head in an effort to clear his mind. “Martin, take your hands off me,” he said as firmly as he could. “I’m warning you. Stop.” “Why would I do that when we’re just getting started?” Martin blithely ignoredHarrison ’s irritation and rubbed his fingertips in small circles over the delicate skin ofHarrison ’s temples. “Hmm, not the stuff of little boys, after all. Lube and spunk and sweaty man-junk, that’s what big gay dudes are made of.” Harrisonwas disgusted. “Must you be so crude?” “I really must. Now hold still.” “Why?”Harrison asked, suspicious. “Because I’m going to kiss you. I don’t want to miss and end up with my tongue in your left nostril.” “You’re going to wha-- mmph!” Martin had tilted their heads at exactly the right angle and laid his lips overHarrison ’s. After the first moment’s shock,Harrison tried to break away, but Martin had him pinned good and tight. He could no more move the Magician than he might have been able to shift the statue of Bastet. He fumed as Martin’s mouth pressed against his own. Fumed. For a moment. Then, because he was gay, damn it, and God help him, horny as hell,Harrison moaned with pleasure and a little bit of despair as his body took over once and for all and outvoted his mind.

Damn traitorous body. Pheromones... hormones... His mind seemed oddly adrift, as if he were losing his grip on reality the way he knew it... was slipping into some odd, semi-hypnotic state. What was I thinking about just now? Don’t recall. Odd. Why am I thinking when I could be enjoying this kiss? Mmm. Wonderful kiss! Martin definitely knew what he was doing, pushingHarrison ’s head back for better access, plunderingHarrison ’s mouth with a thrusting tongue, and nibbling atHarrison ’s lips. He took control like a man born to lead, overriding anythingHarrison tried to introduce. Harrisongroaned as Martin nimbly climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of his hips, pressing their bodies chest-to-chest. Starting at the neck he’d admired earlier, Martin ran his hands downHarrison ’s shoulders, across the top of his chest, and down both arms. The Magician made small, deeply happy noises as he explored, apparently deciding he liked what he found. The kiss could have gone on forever, but ended all too soon.Too soon?Harrison managed to puzzle through the haze of his thoughts.But I hadn’t wanted him to kiss me at all... had I? I can’t remember. Martin’s expression had dropped every nuance but raw sensuality.Harrison gazed back at the other man with lazy but enthusiastic anticipation, feeling both stoned and buzzed, wanting to giggle. “Now that’s a little more like it.” Martin traced a finger downHarrison ’s cheek. “Lust becomes you.” Harrisonreached up to grasp Martin’s hand. He couldn’t quite find the right words, but for once in his life didn’t feel as if he needed any. Although, after a moment, he decided to offer up a drunken smile. “That’s my good boy.” Good boy. The words resonated inHarrison ’s mind. They felt like a benediction. A blessing. God, it was so easy and so fabulous to just give in. Why had he fought so hard against this? “Yes,” he got it together enough to reply. Martin brushed a second light kiss across his lips. “Now, this is so you won’t throw a temper fit later and hurl a drippy candle at my head. I want you to know I haven’t given you any drugs, and I haven’t hypnotized you. All I did was loosen up those choking inhibitions to let the real you out to play. That’s all.” He growled playfully, takingHarrison by the collar. “And youdo want to play, don’t you? Deep down, you’ve wanted to play for a long time now.” Harrisontested his free will. He could have said “no,” and knew normally he would have -- submitting so easily was too unlike him -- but he didn’t want to deny the strange, fascinating power and beauty of whatever was happening. He wanted to have fun for a change. “Yes,” he breathed. “Good,good boy.” Martin rewarded him with a kiss. “‘Come now; what masques, what dances shall we have, to wear away this long age...? What revels are in hand?’” “Shakespeare again? Must be contagious.”

Martin laughed, a rippling peal of mirth. “The Bard had his own particular magic. Why do you think they call him immortal? We have the words, the moonlight, the magery, and me. And you.” He bent down to trace his tongue beneath each ofHarrison ’s eyes. Ooh, kinky. “I talk too much. Let’s not waste any more time, hmm?” “No,”Harrison breathed. This felt wonderful. “What do I do?” “Just let go.” “Let go.” “Just feel.” “Feel.” “Lust.” “Lust...” “Yes,” Martin whispered.Harrison wouldn’t have looked away from the man if he could -- and he could have, he knew. He simply didn’t want to. Martin was all that mattered at the moment. “Let me taste you as much as I want.” Harrisonopened his mouth for another kiss, but Martin chuckled and tapped his chin. “Not the kind of taste I was talking about, but don’t worry, we’ll get to that soon enough. No. I want to test the flavor of your scent. There are whiffs of this and that which intrigue me.” “Smell? I smell?” “Only like good things. Such a non-believer, Harrison. Makes it doubly interesting to find you’re drenched in magics. You never had a clue, did you? Or have you? We’ll see. Hold still.” Magics? But... magic isn’t real...Harrisonthought hazily, then forgot to think entirely when Martin pressed his nose to the nape ofHarrison ’s neck and inhaled, moving up in a long, smooth line. He didn’t snuff like a dog, the wayHarrison had half expected, taking instead a single deep breath. “Oh. Oh, now.” Martin bitHarrison ’s earlobe.Harrison shuddered delicately. Into the shell above, the Magician whispered, “The Night Mare likes you, doesn’t she?” “Night Mare? Night-mare? Nightmares? Dreams. I have dreams...” “I’m sure you do, poor thing. Fortunately, I smell something much tastier and with greater power. You’re double-blessed. The smell of the incubus is rich on your skin, but you’ve known him for a while, so that’s to be expected. The extra spice, though, it’s truly delicious. Dangerous, but exciting. Lilith’s put Her own mark on you. Sex piled on top of sex. Who knows why she chose you, but all the better for me. And you.” “Lilith?”Harrison mumbled, vaguely baffled. “She’s a myth.”

“Whatever you say. I know what I know, and you will, too, soon. Right now, I think I’m tired of waiting.” Martin rubbed againstHarrison ’s chest. “How about we get rid of some of these clothes, lovely?” Harrisonsagged in relief, minus the single part of him that stood up straight and saluted the idea. “Yes,” he agreed, although he wasn’t sure how they’d get naked, seated as they were. But I don’t jump into bed with strangers. He giggled drunkenly.For him, I’ll make an exception. Why not? “Shh, shh, no more thinking.” Martin kissedHarrison ’s forehead. A sense of peace radiated from the touch of the man’s lips. “There, that’s better. Now come with me.” Nimble as a cat, the Magician slipped offHarrison ’s lap and took him by the hand. “Follow my lead.” Harrisonstood. “Anywhere.” He paused. “Where, exactly?” “The rug will do.” “Hard floor.” “You’ll be pleasantly surprised.” “Okay,”Harrison agreed, happy to take Martin at his word. He followed the Magician onto his Hindi rug, and was both startled at how deeply soft and plush it was, yet not at all ruffled at the same time. Déjà vu, déjà vu. “Mmm. Nice.” “A favorite of mine. Now.” Martin pushed and tugged atHarrison until they lay positioned exactly so. “I’ve got plans for you, pet, but I think we’ll go slowly. This first time can just be ordinary.” He grinned wickedly. “I actually expect it’ll be extraordinary, but you know what I mean.” Harrisonfound the strength to roll his eyes. “Martin?” “Yes, pet?” “You really do talk too much. Kiss me?” Martin purred. He held his finger across his lips and then touched the same finger toHarrison ’s lips. Harrisonlost all desire to speak and didn’t care a bit. Martin tappedHarrison ’s shoulder to indicate where he’d start, then began undoingHarrison ’s shirt buttons with neat, nimble movements. For every new bit of skin bared, Martin kissed the spot, licking and then sucking with gusto. Hickeys in the making. But who cared? NotHarrison . He reached for Martin to return the favor, but Martin shook his head, looking both mischievous and wise.Harrison didn’t bother to complain because Martin had risen and decided to move on toHarrison ’s pants. They were simple to open, just a button and a zipper. The freedomHarrison felt when Martin pulled the material down almost made him whimper. Almost. His underwear was still in the way of total bliss. Martin snickered, presumably at the sight

ofHarrison ’s neat white Y-fronts.Harrison favored him with a dozy glare, but that didn’t stop Martin from snapping the waistband with a cackle. He forgave Martin when the Magician stopped playing around and tugged the BVDs down aroundHarrison ’s knees.Harrison couldn’t help groaning as his erection was finally released from its prison. Pure relief, along with hope-laced anticipation. Martin traced his finger down the length ofHarrison ’s cock, picking out a pattern in the ropy veins, cuppedHarrison ’s balls long enough for a measuring squeeze. Then, he dipped into the clear liquid that was building on the head ofHarrison ’s dick. He pushed that finger into his mouth and smiled in blissful satisfaction. Please, please, please,Harrison thought.Suck me. Please? He’d die if Martin didn’t do something besides toy with him, and soon. Martin seemed to know whatHarrison was thinking.Or he’s a good guesser , the tiny rational corner ofHarrison ’s mind suggested.Harrison told that fragment of functional brain to shut its yap and waited, quivering, to see what the Magician would do next. Suck? LetHarrison undress him in turn? Hand job? He’d take just about anything, so long as Martin didsomething . Bi-colored eyes twinkling, Martin lifted his hand to cover the top half ofHarrison ’s face. “I’m breaking the rules by talking, but hey, presto,” he whispered after a pause, before he moved back. Martin had somehow shed his own clothes without any sound and was totally naked. Harrisongaped, first in shock and then in awe. Golden and smooth as a god, just the way Liam had idly described Martin back whenHarrison didn’t know who Martin was. Leanly muscled from corded arms to long, firm legs. Almost no body hair. In the middle, the piéce de résistance: the Magician’s cock. A nice big mouthful or handful -- depending on preference -- dark with arousal and jutting out in silent command. Without stopping to question himself,Harrison moved to his knees. He was momentarily confused again by how right it felt to be there and glanced up in silent question. Martin made hushing, soothing noises in response and began pettingHarrison ’s head, settling him back down. WhenHarrison was calm again, Martin used his other hand to urgeHarrison closer to his groin, making it pretty damn clear what he wanted. With pleasure. Harrisonwas out of practice, so his approach turned out to be a little clumsy, but he managed to take the head of his lover’s cock in his mouth and suck with eager determination. He tasted the saltiness of the Magician’s pre-come, rolled the slick fluid on his tongue. Martin hissed and tightened his fingers inHarrison ’s hair. Encouraged,Harrison tried taking in a little more cock, and when he didn’t choke, still more. “I’m breaking the rules again,” Martin gasped. “My game, though. I call the shots, and I’ll call them out loud if I want to. Get me wet,Harrison . Get me good and wet.” Thank you; it’s damned hard not to slobber when you’re not used to this.Harrison let himself go

wild, slathering Martin’s cock with saliva and, not coincidentally, savoring the rich, musky flavor of the man’s tissue-soft skin over its hard core. Experimenting,Harrison reached for Martin’s balls and let the heavy, pendulous sac that encased them rest in his palm. God, he’d forgotten how good it felt to cup another man’s jewels. You had to handle them exactly right, not too roughly and not too gently. After a moment’s consideration and some careful exploration, he figured out the way to play and began rolling the nuts together, fascinated by his new trick. Martin swore under his breath and pushed atHarrison . “Enough. Enough. Stop. Move back.” Harrisonautomatically obeyed, but when he’d had his last taste and Martin’s wet cock was free, he looked up woefully. They weren’t finished already, were they? “No, not done yet.” Martin strokedHarrison ’s hair as if he were patting a dog. His expression, whichHarrison had grown accustomed to seeing as genial and playful and cheerful, hardened abruptly. The Magician glittered with a sudden air of dominance and determination. “Stand up. Turn around. Walk toward the wall and put your hands on the stones. Spread your legs wide. Do it.” Harrisonfound himself complying. Deep inside, the little piece of rationality, which wouldnot be quiet, protested that he, Harrison, did not ask “how high?” when someone said “jump.” He was a top. Firmly established as a top in all relationships. So why was it so easy and felt so good to let himself assume the role of the bottom? Peculiar. Amazing. Wonderful. Harrisonreached the wall and did as he’d been instructed. The cold of the stones felt delicious against his over-warm skin. Heedless of any past experience or good sense or, indeed, any kind of sense, he stood with his thighs parted wide and his feet firmly planted on the hard floor. He was barefoot. When had that happened? “I like bare feet,” Martin said softly, just behindHarrison .Harrison flinched, once again not having heard the other man move. “You’re doing so well. Your body obeys as sweetly as I’d hoped with just a few walls torn down. You want this, you know it, and you’re all but begging for it. Perfect. I want it, too. But I won’t hurt you. Here.” Two of Martin’s long, elegant fingers slipped between the crease ofHarrison ’s ass and stroked around the tight, truly virgin pucker of his hole. Fuck!Harrisonhad been fingered before but hadn’t really enjoyed it. Martin’s teasing touch made him want to buck and holler, made him ache to come just from being toyed with. “I’ll be the first man ever inside you,” Martin said approvingly. “Better be doubly sure you’re taken care of, then. Don’t worry. You won’t come until I tell you to. Enjoy.” Suddenly sopping wet, those fingers ran circles aroundHarrison ’s hole until the entrance was slick as oil, then pushed inside. Harrisoninhaled sharply. He had, in the back of his mind, been expecting pain -- but, no, he didn’t even feel a twinge. There was only pleasure instead, pleasure building into amazing bliss and a burning need to empty his balls.

But not yet. Martin had said not yet. “Yes, yes, good boy, good pet.” Martin withdrew his fingers and then partedHarrison ’s ass cheeks with slippery hands. “You’ll enjoy this if you let yourself. And you will, won’t you?” “Yes, Master.” The words popped out without any thought.Harrison felt mildly shocked but didn’t have time to puzzle over what he’d said. Martin bit down on his shoulder, just hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to break the skin, and pushed his cock slowly forward insideHarrison ’s channel. Both of them breathed out in a long, heavy sigh. “You amaze me,” Martin murmured. “I amaze myself.” Martin chuckled. “Probably do. Now, take me,Harrison . Take every inch of me, and love it.” AndHarrison did. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering about the lack of any pain, but as Martin thrust in and out, gradually picking up the pace,Harrison felt nothing butfull andohgodohgodsogood . He heard himself utter desperate whimpers whenever his lover withdrew, pushing his ass back for more. Martin gave that ass a hard slap, which, instead of infuriatingHarrison , made him wail with a shock of lust. God! He had never been so close to coming for so long. Hanging on to the edge like this astonished him with how thrilling it could be, but every time Martin pulled a move like that, he lurched a little closer to the peak. Harrisonheard a voice babbling, pleading for release, and realized it was his own. He didn’t feel embarrassed. The need to come was too great to worry about making a fool out of himself. “Please, please, please, please, please...” Martin worriedHarrison ’s neck playfully with his teeth. He reached around to graspHarrison ’s cock and gave it a tormenting, light stroke. “Now.” Harrisonbellowed as he shot, striping the wall with his spunk. Martin crooned words of encouragement and incomprehensible mumblings as he thrust again and then let out a deep moan as he filledHarrison ’s ass with liquid heat. The road to normalcy was delayed and full of stumbling blocks, butHarrison finally found his way to an even keel. He was sweating, great fat drops rolling down his face and chest, heaving for air, and shaking in every muscle. Harrison’s legs trembled as his rational mind raced back to him.What the... what the hell did I just do? Why? How did I let this happen? “I know,” Martin said, not letting him go. “You’re going to want to talk now, and there’ll be all sorts of yelling. Fine, I can cope. Just let me pull out of your ass first.” Martin gave said ass another hard spank, then faced him asHarrison turned around. “You hypnotized me,”Harrison accused, grasping at straws. There had to be a reason why he’d given in

so readily. Some explanation for why he’d been putty in Martin’s hands. Why he’d felt blissfully drunk on a handful or three of words. “Did not.” “I don’t believe you. Was it the vodka? I had some vodka. Lily brought me a cup. Did you drug the drink?” “Lily?” Martin cocked his head. “Who? And heavens, no, no drugs.” “Damn it, you influenced me somehow. I know you did!” “Maybe a little. A dash of enchantment. I told you I would. I also told you you’d feel wonderful when you let your walls down. And you did. Kind of easy to tell when it’s been good for a man, if you know what I mean. Like I said, it’s magic, baby.” Martin waggled his eyebrows, a moveHarrison found simultaneously annoying yet sexy as hell, damn him. “You -- you --” he sputtered. “Me. Me.” Martin forestalled the gathering wrath ofHarrison ’s intended rant by grinning like an imp. “So. What do you think about magicnow ?” Chapter Five

Martin didn’t wait forHarrison to answer. “Tea?” the Magician suggested chirpily, without preamble. Light and flippant replaced blazing sexuality as easily as putting on a mask. A mask, yes.Harrison thought he was beginning to understand a bit more about Martin. The man wore a comedy mask over something darker and probably dangerous. Warned and wary now, he waited to see what Martin would do next. Apparently, burble like a British grandmother. “Yes, absolutely,” Martin said, rubbing his hands together. “I do love a little pick-me-up. Tea for two. How do you take yours, cream and sugar?” He stepped lightly away, teasingHarrison with the sight of his pert ass. Deliberately teasing.Harrison was sure of the Magician’s motivations. One quick fuck, and a man like Martin would be cock-sure certain he could leadHarrison around by a leash encircling his dick. One quick fuck... Leash around his dick... “God!”Harrison couldn’t stop the epithet from escaping him in a flash of tangled emotions. Pleasure and displeasure, placid acceptance and fiery anger, plus submission and rebellion were all knotted up together. “God Almighty!” “I don’t think He’s in at the moment. Cream and sugar, yes or no?”

“No sugar, thanks. I mean -- wait -- damn it, Martin!” “Language, language. Don’t get your tighty-whities in a bunch. Let me finish with the tea, and then we’ll have the talk you’re just about to blow a gasket over.” He turned his head just far enough forHarrison to see him wink. “Pet.” Pet! That little... I ought to... fuck!“All right, that’s it.”Harrison gathered his courage. “Open the door, Martin. I’m leaving.” “Hmm? Oh. The door’s unlocked. I never threw the deadbolt. Go on ahead, if you want. But you’ll look kind of silly waltzing around the club naked, won’t you?” “Naked? I had my pants on. I...”Harrison stared down at himself. When in blue blazes had he discarded both trousers and shirt, not to mention underwear, socks, and shoes? “More of your so-called hocus pocus? Ha, ha. Funny guy, but the joke’s over. Give me back my clothes, and I mean right this second.” Martin tapped his chin, clearly not giving the idea any serious thought. “Hmm... no, don’t think so. Why don’t you look for them? A smart man like you shouldn’t have any trouble hunting down a pair of pants and a shirt. Unless I’ve magicked them away. That’d be terribly wicked of me, wouldn’t it?” WhichHarrison supposed meant his clothes were so well hidden he didn’t have a snowball’s chance of finding them. Blasted parlor tricks! All he could do, apparently, was wait for Martin to get tired of his games. And that’ll happen soon, won’t it? Riiiiight. Harrisonseethed as he watched Martin head for a velvet-shrouded something-or-another in a corner. He snorted when the elaborate drape came off to reveal a dinged-up ancient microwave and a scarred dorm refrigerator. A small cabinet, too, which Martin bent to open and dig through. The man hummed all the while, cheerful as a chipmunk, totally unashamed of being nude and marked by sweat and spunk. A centerfold fromHunks of the Weird making tea. Tea! Harrisonrubbed the bridge of his nose.I have truly lost my mind. What on earth was I thinking? No, wait, I wasn’tthinking, there’s the problem. I actually had sex with this man? This near-stranger? Lord help me if this story ever gets out. Not just a stranger, a self-styled “Magician.” Harrisonrecalled the stinging spanks to his ass and winced, not in pain, but at the memory of how he had, appallingly enough, enjoyed them. Addendum: a “Magician” who seems to get off on a dab of BDSM. Who is capable of convincing others they like those sorts of games. Far too easily convinces them. I think I may be in over my head. Lord, I need to cut my losses and go home, don’t I? Harrisonhesitated. He should go home, yes. A part of him didn’twant to. Infuriating! “I don’t want any tea, thank you,”Harrison said, a crisply starched edge returning to his voice. The

familiar authoritative, if stiff, sound gave him a boost of self-confidence. “You’d only want to read the leaves or some such rubbish.” “D’uh, but as it happens I’m just good and thirsty. Let’s see. Peppermint Twist orOrange Zinger? Not chamomile. I want you nice and wide awake all night long.” Martin plucked a tea bag out of a box and held it dangling by the string, eyeing the thing with impish good humor. “You know, any old two-penny fortune-teller can read tea leaves. Reading tea bags, now, that takes talent.” “Are you trying to be funny?” “Is it working?” “I, for one, am not amused.” “Pity. And there you go again, frowning and getting all high-and-mighty -- just when you were coming along so nicely a bare few minutes ago. I particularly liked the way you pleaded to spurt like your life was at stake. Mmm, a man who begs. Delicious.” Harrison’s cheek began to tic with embarrassment and irritation. “What you witnessed was an alarming deviation that I know for damn sure you tricked me into.” “Did I?” “I don’tdo things like what we just did.” “Don’t you? I was there, and I seem to remember the details in living color.” “Undernormal circumstances, notice the emphasis on ‘normal,’ no, I emphatically do not. And I especially don’t have sex with strangers. You... you did... something. You’ve already admitted you lowered my inhibitions through some trick or another, even if you won’t tell me what else you did.”Harrison scowled. “Consider yourself lucky I’m not planning to sue you for sexual harassment and assault.” Martin cackled as he dropped a tea bag into each of two mugs he hauled out of his cabinet. One read “Gay By Birth, Fabulous By Choice,” and the other bore an amazingly tacky rainbow flag. “Good luck, darling. It’s not that easy to get Amour Magique’s employees in a court of law. Besides, I know why you won’t sue. You enjoyed yourself. Didn’t you?” Harrison’s lips tightened into a thin line. “Thought so.” Martin opened the microwave door and popped their mugs inside. “Less than a minute on high, and voila, piping hot water. I love modern technology, don’t you? Do you remember what life was like before these little nukers? God, how did we ever get by?” “I’m old enough to remember when these first became popular, yes. We managed just fine with stove-tops and percolators and ovens.” “Ah, but do you remember how magical it was the first time you saw a microwave in action?” Martin sighed wistfully. “A little box with buttons. Pop in a frozen hamburger, listen to it hum, and ding! A hot dinner in a fraction of the usual time.” Apparently still content to rattle along and amuse himself, Martin laughed. “Actually, you know, the first time I got to use one all I had handy was Gatorade. I boiled the

stuff and drank it. God, that was nasty. But enchanting.” He drummed his fingers on the top of the microwave. “Magic. People from once upon a time would think our modern society is full of magic. Metal carriages traveling at astonishing speeds with no need for horses or mules. Flying machines. Television. Cell phones. iPods. Once upon an even older time, there were those who laughed at the notion that steam could drive a train engine. It’s a mad, mad, mad, mad, mad world, isn’t it?” “Your point being?”Harrison asked suspiciously. Martin flashed him a look of disgust. “Aren’t you paying attention? I’m talking about magic, of course. Lesson one: everything I do comes around to magic in the end. What you think cannot be real can become reality if you’re willing to believe in the power.” “What does that have to do with microwaves and iPods?”Harrison was honestly confused. “Technology is a case in point. What people once dreamed of, scientists have now created. Believe me, they dreamed hard before what we have came about. John Dee -- Good Queen Bess’s astrologer -would have sold his soul for one of these babies.” Martin patted his refrigerator. Harrison’s head began to ache. “You’re going to drive me out of my mind.” “Blast. I thought I already had.” Martin peered across the room. “I think I see bits of it still dribbling down the wall...” Harrisonblushed. “A Magician who’s also a clown. Do you do parties?” “Depends on what kind of party.” “Figures. Look, do you really have to talk in circles around everything? Magic, technology -- they don’t belong together no matter what you say.” “There’s where you’re wrong. They belong side by side. Two sides to every coin, two faces to every mirror. You’ll get the hang of it eventually. Right now, you keep on trying to pigeonhole everything into neat boxes, and that’ll give you a migraine, honest to Bob.” The microwavedinged . Martin pulled out two steaming mugs of tea and carried them gingerly to the card-reading table. “Pull up a chair. If you behave yourself, I’ll even tell you where you can find some of your clothes.” “One sock, probably.” “Well, if you were creative, one sockwould cover your, heh, dignity.” Harrisongrunted in disgust, but drew his chair toward the table. Up close, the wooden piece of furniture really did prove to be a work of art: elegantly shaped stones were arranged in a pattern that filled a sunken chamber beneath glass polished to mirror brightness. Martin interceptedHarrison ’s question, answering it beforeHarrison could ask. “Here’s a coaster.” He tossed over a cardboard square bearing the logo of a popular brand of lager, the kind you chewed rather than drank. “Now that we’re all cozy, it’s your turn to talk. Go ahead, I’m a big boy. Let me have it.”

Martin took a sip of his tea, glittering with mockery and faux-interest. Harrisonopened his mouth, fully intending to let rip... then stopped. He glared at Martin, who returned his look with one of utter innocence. They held their gaze for a moment beforeHarrison sighed. “Oh, what’s the use?” He picked up his mug and tasted the tea. “Not bad.” “I’m a wizard in the kitchen.” Martin chortled at his own joke whileHarrison glowered. “Oh, now, put the face away. You like me, and you know it. I’m sexyand I’m entertaining, aren’t I? Come on, ’fess up. Be a good boy and I’ll tell you where your shoes are.” Harrisonconsidered holding out for sheer spite but knew Martin would merely find a new way to needle him. “Fine. I do like you. You’re annoying and smart-mouthed and disgustingly cheerful, not to mention probably sexually promiscuous enough to make a Vegas madam blush, but all the same -- and God knows why -- I like you.” He swallowed another gulp of tea. Really, amazingly good stuff. “The, er, Master/slave thing does need to stop, though.” “It’ll stop when I say it stops, pet. No, don’t even try to put up a fuss over the nickname. I’ll call you ‘pet’ if I damn well feel like it. But you answered the question, so you get a reward. Your shoes are under the chair you’re sitting in. The toes are just peeping out. See?” Harrisonlooked. Lo and behold, theywere there. “Very helpful of you. Wingtips and a dangling willie, even if covered with a sock, ought to be acceptable dress code in Amour Magique, right?” Sarcasm dripped from his words. Martin raised an eyebrow. “Have you been down to the dance floor? No? There are men boogieing the night away with even less on.” “Hooray for them, more power to the naked youth, but I can’t very well walk out of here with nothing but my shoes on, and you know it, don’t you?” “Why,Harrison , one would almost think you believed I could read your mind.” “No. Like you or dislike you, one could believe you are a conniving, overly mischievous imp who delights in playing pranks. Either that or you’re getting major league jollies over seeing me naked and unable to do anything to spare my ‘dignity.’” “Well, you know what they say. No shoes, no shirt, no service.” Martin paused in thought. “Those signs never do say anything about no pants.” Harrisondrummed his fingers. “Are you going to barrel off on a tangent again?” “Naturally, pet. It’s a specialty of mine. Where was I? Ah, yes. Signs. Signs and portents, portents and signs. Does ‘STOP’ really mean ‘stop’? Not from what I’ve heard about today’s drivers. The spell-casters behind traffic signs and signals don’t know their balls from their buttocks, I swear.” Martin tilted his mug back to drain the last drops of his tea and came up with a teasing grin. “Ooh, tough room. The scorn is thick as thieves in here tonight, isn’t it? So you still don’t believe in magic, pet?” Harrisonground his teeth together at the sound of the sobriquet. “Do you want me to be honest?” “Absolutely, darling.”

“Then, no, I do not. Magic flies in the face of science. Everything you referred to, the technology of our modern age, is born of science, not arcane ritual. Science and reality are what I believe in.” “Science. Bah. What you call science is more or less just adding vinegar to baking soda and watching a miniature, stinky volcano bubble up. Chemical reactions do have their own power, mind, but they’re nothing when compared with the mojo to be found in pure belief and the great force of will. This club and this world - they run on magic. Magic is in everything from great to small.” “So you say. It’s all a big game to you. Hypnosis, sexual magnetism, hands quicker than the eye -- all you know is how to use those to your advantage. I don’t believe in magic, and I don’t believe you’re a Magician, big ‘M’ or not.” “Sheesh!” Martin sat back and scowled atHarrison . “You’re a hella difficult nut to crack, aren’t you? I’ll keep trying, though who knows why. Here.” He held out his hand. “No need to cross my palm with silver; you already sprinkled it with spume. I’ll read your fortune for free.” Harrisonjerked both hands away, tightening them into fists. “You most certainly will not. Give me my pants.” “Mithros giveme strength. Even for such a good fuck, I’m starting to wonder if you’re worth all this trouble.” “Meow?” Harrisonjumped so high he almost -- er -- levitated out of his chair. Martin laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. “Don’t tell me a little cat spooked you! Hello, down there. Would you care to join us, noble lady?” A small, sleek black cat jumped up on the table and arranged herself in a regal Egyptian pose. “Merowwl.” “Well! This is an unexpected turn of events.” Martin inclined his head as if humbling himself before a queen. “It’s a very pleasant surprise, though, mind. Greetings, Lady. Playing at masques again, are you? I must say you look absolutely fetching in this shape.” “What?”Harrison blurted, baffled. Martin ignored him. “Would you like a taste of tea? I can make another cup. Oh, wait, no, cats don’t really drink tea as a rule, although I’ve known a few who did. But I digress. How about a saucer of cream, instead?” The cat chirruped and licked her whiskers. Harrisonhad, he decided, just about passed the point where he could muster up any indignation at Martin’s shenanigans. “You’re Dr. Doolittle now, I presume?” “Hush.” Martin hopped up and headed back to his makeshift kitchen corner. He bent over at the waist, waggling his bare ass atHarrison blatantly as a leer, and rummaged about until he gave a grunt of satisfaction. “Here we are, Lady. Fresh cream. Full fat.You don’t need to worry about gaining weight. And look what I have up my sleeve, hey?”

“No sleeves,”Harrison interjected dryly. “You, pet, have absolutely no sense of showmanship. Ta-da!” Martin produced an airplane complimentary-sized bottle of José Cuervo. “A nip of this in your cream, Lady?” The cat purred with enough force that her wee compact body shook. “I thought so.” Martin returned to the table, put down a generously sized blue saucer -- was that real china? -- poured in rich whipped cream, and added almost half the mini bottle of tequila. “Eat and enjoy. Drink and enjoy. Whichever.” “Good heavens,” was allHarrison could say as he watched the feline go to town on her treat. “I’ve heard of cats liking alcohol, but I thought that was an urban legend.” “Nope, not a legend in the slightest. Beer, tequila, they like it all. At least this one does.” Martin looked as if he wanted to stroke the cat, but for once in his life was choosing to keep a respectful distance. “I’m honored by her presence, to tell the truth.” “She’s not a social sort of cat?” “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen her in this guise before.” “Guise? What do you mean, ‘guise’? And she’s not your pet? Then how... no, wait, I know what you’re going to say. Magic.” Martin tapped the side of his nose. “See? You can learn.” Harrisonsaid nothing. Words were useless with Martin. Resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t be getting his pants back anytime soon, he settled in to watch the cat drink her cream. Funny, really. He didn’t like cats any more than usual, but there was something peculiarly charming about this one. Familiar, as if he knew her, too. He looked closer and tried to figure out why he seemed to remember her. When he spotted the studded collar she wore,Harrison had to bite his tongue to keep from swearing a blue streak. “You might not have seen her before, but I have.” Martin gave him a look of genuine curiosity. “Really? Do tell.” “For the past couple of weeks or so, a black cat has been sneaking into my house no matter how hard I try to keep her out. I’d swear this is the same one. Ha! If you’re a Magician, why don’t you wave your magic wand or something, and tell me how she manages her tricks?” “Mmm. Some things aren’t my secrets to reveal. But if this is the same cat, and she’s been paying you the honor of not one but repeated visits, you’re a very lucky man. You just don’t know it yet.” The cat finished her cream and burped delicately. After briskly washing off her whiskers, she patted Martin’s hand with one paw, turned about, and butted her forehead hard againstHarrison ’s before he had time to react. Apparently well-satisfied, she hopped down from the table and minced off to take care of her own

business.Harrison wanted to rub the spot on his forehead where the cat had bonked him. It tingled in a strange way he didn’t like and couldn’t understand, warmth radiating through his body from the spot she’d touched. The gesture felt similar to a blessing, another thingHarrison didn’t believe in. “My, my, my,” Martin clucked, sounding impressed. “Talk about luck.” “You don’t believe black cats are bad luck?” “Are you kidding? I’m asorcerer . We love cats of any color.” “Wasn’t that ‘Magician’?” “Magician. Sorcerer. Mage. Witch. Warlock. Wizard. Lots of fancy names with gobs of meaning attached to each designation, with different ways of going about things: good, bad, indifferent, you name it. They use the power as they prefer, but when you break it down to the basics, that power all stems from the same source. They’d flay me alive for being so flip, but hell, I’m older than they are. Most of them. I do prefer ‘Magician,’ but I don’t really care what you call me, as long as you say it with respect and in the belief that I am what I say I am.” “We’re back on that again, are we?” “Naturally. Why else, as you’ve reminded me time and time again, would you be here? And where were we... ah! Yes.” Martin snatchedHarrison ’s hand and dragged it toward him. “I’ll be telling yer future, laddie.” Harrisontried to yank away from Martin. “The hell you will.” Damn him, but Martin had a strong grip. “Stop this at once.” “No chance, pet.” Martin scannedHarrison ’s palm, nodding and murmuring and clicking his tongue. “What do I spy with my little eye? All sorts of things, that’s what. You’re a man on a journey,Harrison .” “I’m sure. And I’ll travel across great waters to meet a tall, dark, and handsome man, will I?” “Don’t be stupid. You have a trim, blond, and delightfully attractive man already.” “Do I, now?” “You do.” When Martin looked up, his playful comedy mask had slipped to once again reveal the face of someone with great intensity and danger.Harrison swallowed as his wariness returned in full force. “Damn!” “What?” Martin narrowly examinedHarrison ’s palm, shaking his head. “Straight up? What I see here tells me our paths are linked together, beginning with this night. Believe it or believe it not, we’re bound, one to the other, and never shall the twain be parted, come what may, et cetera.” “You and me? Bound? I seriously doubt it.”Harrison scoffed, though his voice shook a little. If looks could kill, Martin would have laid him out flat with the power of his glare. “Not just bound in flesh and bone, but in soul, life after life. And before you get way up on your high horse, I’m not any too

happy about this discovery myself. I didn’t ask to have my soul entwined with a stubborn, mulish non-believer. On the other hand, no pun intended, I am not stupid enough to try and buck fate.” “There is no such thing as fate. The course of a man’s life depends on the choices he makes.” “Of course it does. Congratulations. You’re right for once. You’re wrong, too. The Third Eye -- go ahead, snort and paw in disbelief -- is opening, and Lord have mercy, what I do see?” “Third Eye.” “Something we Magicians call a window into the future -- and the past, if the Third Eye is willing to grant a talented practitioner a look backward. Usually the recent past, but if you get lucky, the long-since past. I don’t know why history is cloudy and all those possible futures are clear, but them’s the breaks. You still don’t believe in magic? Then, tell me how else I could know what I know now.” Martin jabbedHarrison ’s palm. “When you were twelve, you kept a garter snake as a pet in a shoebox. The wyrm terrified you, but you forced yourself to hold it every day and let it wrap itself around your neck and arms until you weren’t scared anymore.” “How did you know that?” “Magic!” Martin snapped. “Want more proof? Your mother always baked snickerdoodles when you came home with an ‘A’ on your report card.” “Stop,”Harrison warned. “I don’t know how you’re doing this, but stop.” Martin ignored him. “Your father was a drunken sot who most often sat on the couch building towers of empty beer cans until he decided to go off for a weekend with some drinking buddies and never came back. You were nine.” “Stop, I said.” “You don’t know how to ride a bicycle. Youdo know how to ride a horse.” “Martin!” “At twenty-one, you chickened out at the last minute before getting your nipple pierced. The left nipple. You still dream about how good the metal would feel hooked in there and wish you had done it after all.” “Please,”Harrison begged hoarsely, shivering creeps crawling ferociously up and down his spine. Martin’s voice dropped into a low hush, no less commanding for its lack of volume. “When you were eighteen, the summer before you went off to college, you made friends with a really nice guy who’d just moved into the neighborhood. He was almost twenty years older, but still lean and fair, and claimed to be a wizard. He could do so many amazing things -- light a candle with the snap of his fingers, see visions in what he called a scrying glass, draw sparkling patterns in the air, and even float. He was so enchanting. So fascinating. For more reasons than one. You had only recently figured out why you’d rather look at other boys instead of the pretty young girls.” “Stop, stop, stop!”

“I can’t. His name was Thyne. You fell in love with him, and when he kissed you, you thought the two of you would be together forever. But, no, you were there at his house learning how to pull a rabbit from a hat when he clutched his chest and fell over the snacks laid out on his wooden kitchen table.” “Stop!” “Not going to happen. When Thyne died is when you stopped believing in magic. When you decided it was your job to teach the world magic wasn’t real. It couldn’t save your first true love, so belief in mystical powers was pointless.” Harrisonhadn’t thought about Thyne in years, or how much he’d loved the man. God. Oh, God. Watching Thyne die in front of his eyes. Helpless to do anything. “Damn you!”Harrison meant the curse. “Too late. I was damned long ago. But here’s my point: for all you’ve done to convince the world it isn’t real, magic does exist,Harrison . You’ve been touched by magic throughout your life. Think back, and you’ll understand what I mean.” Harrisonswallowed on a dry throat as, against his will, memories began to well up. Surviving not one but three car accidents -- each of which should have killed him. Getting into an Ivy League collegeand being able to afford it through the random whim of a far-flung, eccentric, and generous relative. The dreams that haunted him every night. Further back -A glimpse of watching soap bubbles turn into butterflies. Talking to frogs in the lily pond behind his house. Pretending fireflies were fairies, and laughing as they flew around his head in swarms. Recognizing he was gay in a glorious burst of revelation that felt like fireworks going off. Learning, with Thyne, the glory and power in another man’s kiss. The window in the wall of Amour Magique. Lily. Gargoyles. Tarot cards. Black cats. Magic. “You see?” Martin’s voice grew husky, and his grip onHarrison ’s hand was sensually clinging before he released it. “I know about all of this, and more.” “Please...”Harrison wasn’t sure what he was asking for, comfort or solitude. “Shh, shh. It’ll be okay.”

Harrisonshook his head. “You feel small and helpless, don’t you?” Harrisonnodded. Then, he hid his face in his hands. “There’s something that can make you feel better. Another thing I know for sure now is how you’re so tired of being the one in command all the time. You’ve ached to surrender yourself and let someone else carry the weight. You’ve burned for relief from the pressure, but before tonight you didn’t know how to find a vent that worked. That’s why you gave in the way you did, pet. Youneeded me to dominate you.” Harrisonglanced up. Martin’s bi-colored eyes glowed with a dark fire. “You need it again. Now. You need to learn how to find the magic once more and how to relearn the art of being at peace with yourself.” The Magician stood. “I have a bedroom just through the doorway hidden behind the tapestry. Come with me, Harrison. You want to.” Harrisondid want to. He went, head bowed. Heart pounding with excitement. He went. Chapter Six

Step by step,Harrison entered the heart of Martin’s quarters. The Magician’s bedroom. He couldn’t lie to himself and protest he was doing this against his will. No, he wanted to go. At the same time, he felt terrified. Felt as if he were giving up something he’d loved and treasured and clung to for years, no matter how heavy the weight. “Let go,Harrison . You’ll be astonished and thrilled, I promise. Everything you hold so tightly to is a burden you do want to drop, honest and true.” Martin walked besideHarrison , guiding him with one elegant hand wrapped aroundHarrison ’s upper arm, and spoke quietly. His voice rose and fell in a lulling rhythm that madeHarrison both sleepy -- no, not sleepy, just stripped of the tension he was used to carrying -- and yet kept him keenly alert. Without carpets to cushion their steps, their footsteps sounded louder on the stone floors, even though their feet were bare. The slap of flesh against rock echoed in an eerie cadence.Harrison paused, feeling as if the sounds of walking were ugly and awkward. That he was out of place. “No, no,” Martin urged, gently pullingHarrison along. “You belong here. Don’t be afraid.” Harrisonwanted to huff indignantly and say he wasnot afraid, that he didn’t fear anything, because people only feared the unknown, andhe understood the way the world worked. A mundane world built by men’s sweat and labor, not by the forces of magic and mystery that induced dread. The problem was, he didn’t think he believed his own rhetoric anymore. So where did that leave him? He kept his head down as he shuffled forward, Martin crooning encouragement every step of the way. Most of the words went over his head, butHarrison caught a snatch of speech every now and then.

“Good” and “pet,” mostly. A door shut behind them, not slamming, but with a sound of finality as stone grated against stone.Harrison drew to a stop, suddenly filled with a mad impulse to turn around and run back, to wrench at the main door until the gateway opened and he could escape. “Shh. It’s all right.” Martin placed two fingers underHarrison ’s chin and guided his head up. “I’ll let you go if you decide you really want to. But I don’t think you do. You’re still so afraid,Harrison . I want to help you conquer that fear.” He clucked his tongue soothingly. “I’m not saying this is going to be easy, but nothing worth having ever comes without at least a little struggle.” WhichHarrison knew to be true. A single fact he could cling to. “All right,” he said, realizing that he’d closed his eyes somewhere between leaving the Magician’s visiting room and this private place. “Okay.” “You make me proud of you already by coming this far. Now, open your eyes and look around. See? This isn’t a bad place. It’s really very nice, if I do say so myself. Decorated it with my own two hands and a bit of magic. It’sfine . Indulge your curiosity the way a small part of you wants to. Nothing’s going to hurt you unless or until you want to be hurt.” A strange turn of phrase.Harrison shivered but parted his eyelids. “Oh.” His lips parted. “Oh.” “Well?” Martin asked with a touch of amusement. “What do you think?” Harrisonshook his head, utterly lost for words. He thought about shambling forward to touch and smell and even taste, but the sight of Martin’s quarters alone all but overwhelmed his senses. Climbing one fence at a time would be the only safe way to accept this room. The chamber didn’t even vaguely look like whatHarrison had thought it might appear. He’d been expecting more of the cold gray stone, probably clammy-cold and wet to the touch, like the gargoyle corridor, like a cave. There would have been rusty, old iron bondage wheels and vicious bullwhips hanging on the walls. A bed, too -- chosen for its high posts and not for comfort, perhaps with only a bare, stained mattress. Dangling cuffs and piles of rope. Research had takenHarrison many different places in his time. He’d seen BDSM dungeons before, and they’d always given him both a case of the creeps and a yearning he didn’t understand. Although he respected the desire in some men and women for dominance and submission, he didn’t like to poke his own feelings with a stick to see what would happen or to think too hard about what he’d seen. For all that, though,Harrison had never been able to resist running his hand down the links of a well-used set of chains. Though he hadn't dared to go any further, he'd ached to touch the instruments of torture often laid out in careless rows on trays. Such fascinating tools, driving him wild with a need to know about what this one or that one did. Not daring to fantasize on a personal level, though, oh no. But sometimes, when he didn’t have the... the bad nights, he dreamed about those toys and chains and the men who knew how to use them, all the while safe in his own bed. Every time, he woke up with his cock hard and his breath ragged. “You’re remembering now,” Martin murmured. “I saw bits and pieces in your memory when I looked into your mind. Not everything, but enough for right now, I think. I’m understanding more and more all

the time. Go on. Keep looking. Nothing’s going to bite if you walk around. Nothing bites until I say the word -- or you do.” He gaveHarrison a light push to the small of his back. “Trust me. You have to trust me, or this will never work.” Whydid it matter?Harrison still wasn’t sure. He only knew that it did. Slowly, as if he were caught in a dream, he took a few staggering steps forward, then stopped again to turn in a slow circle and look around himself. To his surprise, he found himself chuckling. “Leave it up to you.” Martin leaned one shoulder against a wall in a saucy pose. “The style just screamsme , wouldn’t you say?” “That’s an understatement.”Harrison inhaled, catching the scents of vanilla and cinnamon from dozens upon dozens of tapers and votive candles. The heat they generated warmed his skin and the light was bright enough to illuminate the room and banish any shadowy corners. Yet, paradoxically, the glow was also so gentle it soothed his jangled nerves. Or perhaps the sense of easement came from their smell? Slightly more confident,Harrison took closer stock of his surroundings. No cuffs or chains dangling anywhere. No torture wheel -- althoughHarrison suspected if Martin had owned one, it would be made of fine wood polished to a high shine. No bondage horse. The walls were of soft, cream-colored marble, smoothly cut and perfectly fitted together. There was a bed more than big enough for two or possibly three, neatly made up with a rich brocade quilt in various shades of Martin’s trademark purple and black. Plumped-up pillows were strewn in abundance across the bed. The bedposts, four of them, yes, were sturdy and unscarred by the marks of any bondage gear. The wood glowed like satin in the candlelight. No windows. No other door. No means of escape, which should have been frightening. Should have setHarrison ’s nerves on high alert. He marveled, instead, at the sense of comfort settling over his shoulders like a cozy blanket. And although he would never have done such a thing before this night,Harrison went with what felt both natural and right. He dropped to his knees, spreading his thick fingers on his thighs, and gazed at Martin. “Beautiful,” he managed to say. “So beautiful.” “Beautiful, yes. I’m glad you like the room, pet. But is that all?” “No.”Harrison chewed at his lip. “Homely. Like home, I mean. Like I’ve been here before. With you.” He paused. “That doesn’t make any sense.” “Not yet, but maybe it will. With magic, who knows?” Martin hadn’t moved from his position on the wall near the door, or whereHarrison vaguely remembered the door being. Hard to tell, with the marble fitting so neatly together. “Good enough for now, now that you’re pleased. I do want to please you, Harrison. We both have something to give. The offer’s open and on the table. If you want, I’ll take all the burdens you carry and then show you how to find the peace you lost so long ago.” Harrisonwet his lips. “And in return?” “Fear me. Love me. Do as I say. Believe. Submit, and let yourself believe. You’ll be happier than you

ever were before.” “I don’t know...” “Yes,” Martin insisted, suddenly sinking down gracefully in front ofHarrison .Harrison could not help but raise his eyes to meet the Magician’s soothing gaze. “Yes, you do know. Admit the truth,Harrison . Say the words so both of us can hear them.” “I can’t...” “You can. You want to. I’ve Seen inside you, remember? I know what you want. You do, too.” Martin liftedHarrison ’s hands off his thighs and squeezed them. “You’ll feel a hundred times better once you come clean.” He grinned crookedly. “I’ve been there before, myself.” Harrisoncouldn’t stop the fine tremors shaking him from head to toe. He swallowed on a painfully dry throat. “I’m a top. I’ve always been a top. I’m the one in charge.” “Not anymore. Letting go will be wonderful. Believe in something beyond dry facts. Believe in yourself. Believe inme .” Harrisonhad to close his eyes again; he took a deep breath. Then, another and another. Martin waited patiently, compressing his hands in a soothing rhythm. The struggle withinHarrison ’s heart was tremendous, a battle he didn’t feel sure he could win, though he burned to conquer and marveled at how he yearned for what Martin had promised, both at the same time. Finally, with a tremendous effort of will, he made up his mind for once and all, and nodded. “Ah, ah, ah. You have to say this out loud.” Martin liftedHarrison ’s broad hands and kissed the knuckles on each. “Relinquish it all,Harrison .” Harrisonexhaled heavily. He gathered all his pain, fear, and skepticism up into a ball, then cast the weighty mass aside and allowed himself to crumple. “Yes,” he said; then, in relief, he repeated himself. “Yes.” Martin kissed his hands a second time. “Good pet. I knew you could. Thank you,Harrison , love. Now, how do you feel?” “Strange.” “Strange how?” “Like a... a...”Harrison struggled for words. He found thinking difficult after discarding so heavy an encumbrance, something he’d clung to for too long. Would he be stupid now? The fear struck deep and hard. “You’re as intelligent as ever,” Martin reassured him, reading his thoughts so easily. “No worries. Go on.” “I feel like a balloon,”Harrison confessed. “The kind children get at carnivals and parties. Floating. Does

that make sense?” “Floating, and brightly colored, although you probably can’t see as much yet. That’s all right. You will.” Harrisonaccepted Martin’s words; he didn’t feel like there was anything he wanted or needed to say in return. He breathed in and out instead, the scented air filling his lungs like the freshest breath of spring after a long winter. And he became aware of something else, as well, spreading through his body in equal measure with the relief that came from total surrender. Arousal. The desire built slowly but steadily, pooling in his groin. He felt his cock gradually stiffen, something he would normally have forced down or efficiently taken care of, but not now. His erection belonged to Martin, so he waited to see what Martin would do with him. The Magician purred in approval. “Body and mind agree,” he said. “Tell me,Harrison . What do you want? I order to you answer the question.” “You. I want you.” These words, at least, tumbled easily fromHarrison ’s lips. “How do you want me?” “However I can have you. Do whatever you want to do with me.” “Are you mine, then?” “Yes. Yes. Yours.” “Sucha quick study. That’s exactly what I wished to hear. Then again, you’re naturally talented, although you were unaware before now. Sit still.” Martin rose, walked behindHarrison , and knelt again. The firm end of Martin’s cock brushed against the still-slippery crease ofHarrison ’s ass, makingHarrison realize, with a mild sense of surprise, that they were both naked and had been all along. Nestling up tight againstHarrison ’s back, Martin pushed his cock betweenHarrison ’s cheeks.Harrison couldn’t help a hiss of pain as the Magician’s hard prick brushed his hole, still aching from their rough fuck earlier. “Sore? Hush, hush, I’m not angry. Soreness is to be expected. Not to brag, but I’m pretty well hung, and you took every inch of me earlier in your cherry hole.” “Doesn’t matter.”Harrison meant what he said with all his acquiescent heart. “If you want to fuck me, then fuck me. I... I might like the...” “Hush. You’re not ready for pain yet. Submission is as far as we need to go right now. Pain would be too much at the moment. In the future, though, that might be a different story.” Harrisonshuddered with pleasure and banished his small flicker of amazement at how the notion enticed him. He had an idea... Speaking slowly, he suggested, “You’re a Magician. You could heal me. Make it

easy.” “I could. I won’t.” “But--” “Don’t question me.” Martin reached underHarrison ’s arms to spread his hands onHarrison ’s chest. He gaveHarrison ’s nipples a warning tweak. The feeling wasn’t painful, butHarrison got the point. He nodded and let the need to argue float away. “What do you say?” Martin prompted. What? Oh. “I won’t question you.” “Master.” “I won’t question you, Master.” Such strange words to sound so right and taste so good on his tongue. They made him almost giddy. It really was a mad, mad, mad, mad, mad world, wasn’t it? And he’d been so blind to everything all along. God, he’d been a fool. “Better and better. You obey so sweetly.” Martin kissed the nape ofHarrison ’s neck. “You need release. I choose to let you have what you crave. I’ll enjoy myself, too.” “But you can’t... won’t...” “Silly pet. Sex isn’t all about penetration, no matter what some men think, gay or straight. Sex between a Master and his pet is whatever the Master wishes to call it.” Martin began stroking his cock up and down betweenHarrison ’s ass cheeks. Instead of stinging pain,Harrison felt a tingling thrill of excitement. “See? This can be just as good in its own way.” “Yes,”Harrison breathed, tightening his ass without prompting to give Martin more friction. “Oh, yes.” “I’m not forgetting about your needs, pet.” One of the hands onHarrison ’s chest slid down to give his balls a hard squeeze, stopping a hair short of causing pain. A taste of discomfort was allHarrison got, but his cock twitched with excitement at the tiny ache. “Here. For you.” Martin grippedHarrison ’s cock, a nice solid grasp, and began to move his hand up and down, masturbating him. Startled yet thrilled -- no one except himself had ever done this, not even Oliver, the selfish bastard --Harrison let himself moan and rock into Martin’s fingers. He pushed forward into his lover’s hand, thrust backward against the Magician’s cock, and lost his head completely. Martin never stopped crooning to him, not once.Harrison couldn’t have said how long they moved together, only that when he tried to hurry, Martin gently forced him to slow down. They could have been at it for minutes or hours when Martin finally whispered “Come” into his ear;Harrison ’s balls let loose with a rough jet of semen that splattered on the floor between his knees. Martin kissedHarrison ’s neck as he himself came in a quiet, easy climax that perfectly matched their mood and gaveHarrison a new insight into the control a Master possessed. So unlikeHarrison ’s former delusions of being in control of his own life. So much better.

They swayed together for a moment in perfect silence. Again, whether this lasted minutes or hours,Harrison didn’t know. He didn’t care, either. He was lazily intrigued when Martin murmured a word and the messy aftermath of sex evaporated, butHarrison floated on without faltering. He could see the color of his balloon self now. Purple. Bright, shining purple. “Pet.” Martin reached up to run his fingers throughHarrison ’s springy hair. “Lovely pet. I feel as if we’ve been here before, too. The Third Eye won’t let me look any further back right now. So I don’t understand, but I get the sense we are as good together now as we’ve always been. I believe it’s true somehow. You make me proud.” Sweet satisfaction rolled overHarrison in comforting waves. He’d done well, hadn’t he? “You realize this is only the first step, though, don’t you?” Martin cautioned. “We have so much more in front of us, but I think you’re definitely worth the effort. My magic tells me so, too.” “It does?” “Mmm hmm. More, I like you, too. Did you know that? Before you entered this bedroom chamber, I was torn between wanting to rip your lips off -- shh, shh, I won’t do that now, I promise -- and throwing you up against the wall to kiss you senseless, which I did do and probably will again.” Martin scratchedHarrison ’s scalp, a light prickling sensation. “Don’t be afraid. Never be afraid. I’ll guide you every step of the way. I’ll teach you what you need to know about everything, and you’ll fall in love with being a pet and belonging to me.” The truth in Martin’s words could no longer be denied.Harrison nodded, feeling himself float higher still. So delicious. So easy. So free. It was magical. Harrisonlaughed despite himself. Martin didn’t seem to mind, and even joined in. “Funny what you see when you really get a good look at things, isn’t it?” The Magician gaveHarrison ’s curls one last tousle and then stood. “Stay where you are. We’ll need a contract. Let me get one and prepare some ink for signing.” Contract? Ink?Harrison let the puzzlement wash over his head instead of seizing upon the words and worrying them like a bone between his teeth. He was content not to question. Martin would explain. Martin would take care of him. Rocking slightly,Harrison embraced the blessed calm and let himself drift higher. If Martin made any noise getting his things together,Harrison didn’t hear him. When the other man returned, Martin held two sheets of what looked intriguingly like genuine parchment, a quill pen, and a small bottle of black glass. The Magician knelt beforeHarrison and laid everything down on the magically cleaned floor between them. “This is a contract between Master and slave, pet. You can read it, if you like, or I can summarize.”

“I trust you,”Harrison said, and it was the truth. “Just summarize.” “Good, good pet. If I sign this, it binds me to the responsibility of taking care of everything you need. It includes a vow to teach you discipline and manners and how to please me. And even though I never would -- and never will, at least not on purpose -- it’ll keep me from harming you in any way. If you sign, you’re giving me the reins. I’ll be in control from now on.” Harrisonexamined himself within and felt nothing but contentment with the proposal. “Sounds all right to me.” “So well-behaved. This is the most basic of contracts. We can make whatever amendments you want later.” Martin held out the quill pen. “Will you sign?” Harrisonstudied the quill for a long moment before taking the feather in his hand. One last time, the nature he’d shaped for himself tried to rebel, protesting that he was going too far, too fast, that he’d regret this, that he’d fallen into some kind of trick or trap. To hell with that.Harrison started to dip the pen into the ink bottle with every intention of signing. Martin’s gentle touch stopped him. “No, pet. This has to be signed in your blood.” Blood? “Don’t worry. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t hurt you, not ever, and this won’t even sting, not a bit. The quill’s nib is so sharp you’ll never feel a thing.” Martin nimbly turned the pen around and slid the pointed end into the thick blue vein on the back ofHarrison ’s wrist. Damned if his lover wasn’t right. No pain. Harrisonwatched in fascination as the nib came out dripping crimson. His blood, a drop or two of it, spattered the parchment in beautiful red dots. Martin righted the pen and curledHarrison ’s fingers around it. “Go on, if this is really what you want.” Harrisonhad made his choice, and he wouldn’t turn back now. He signed, his handwriting sloppy with the unfamiliar instrument but still recognizable as his name. As he worked, Martin stroked his other arm, murmuring what sounded like endearments in a languageHarrison couldn’t place. Maybe a tongue only Magicians knew. Funny, in the humorous sense, how easy it was to accept such things now. Martin eased the pen out ofHarrison ’s grasp. He dipped the nib into his inkwell, coming out with more crimson fluid pearling at the tip. “My own blood,” he explained. With quick, practiced strokes, he signed aboveHarrison ’s scrawl. “There. We’re partners.” Harrisonfrowned. Two signatures? It seemed too easy. “That’s all?” “All the legalities, at least for now. Poor man.‘My only love sprung from my only hate. Too early seen unknown, and known too late.’ I won’t let our arrangement turn into something you’ll regret. And believe me, I understand what a huge leap you’re taking. But I swear I’ll be there for you through the

whole journey.” Harrisonbent his head and breathed in the sweet cinnamon-vanilla scent of peace. “Good pet,” Martin purred. “Yes, you’re a good boy. You’ve done well, so well. More than I expected, more than I hoped for. There’s only one thing left.” He stood, offeringHarrison a lift up. “I think you’ll like this. Maybe not as much as the sex, but still, an eye-opener. Come with me. Follow my footsteps. I don’t have a leash for you yet, but although I could make one from magic, I’m going to trust you to do as I say.” Harrisonstood. Was this what people meant by saying they’d achieved Zen? Perfect nothingness? “Yes,” Martin answered, once again not needingHarrison ’s thoughts to be spoken aloud. “In a way. Come along.” “Where are we going?” “First to clean up and then to the Heart of Amour Magique. The soul inside the body. He’ll like you.” “He?” “Oh, yes. Definitely a he, or at least he’s a ‘he’ with me. Don’t be afraid. It’s an honor, really. I’d have taken you anyway, but the Heart has let me know he wants me to bring you ASAP.” “Why?” “I think he wants to see what he can make of you,” Martin replied thoughtfully. Harrisonfell silent, delighting in not questioning anything about Hearts and he’s and just obeying. Harrisonfollowed where Martin led, unafraid and trusting. He knew now he always would, even to the gates of Hell and back. Although he did wonder...Harrison knew whathe thought about the club. But what would the club think abouthim ? Chapter Seven

Hey, buddy. How’s it hangin’? You look different this time around. Not exactly an improvement, but you’ll do. Put ’er there. Harrisonstared at the floating diamond that appeared to be speaking inside his mind. In a heavy Southern accent. Martin nudged him. “Don’t be rude, pet.” Harrisonblinked. “Er... hello?” He’d thought about this moment while he and Martin had showered in the Magician’s hidden, but wonderfully decadent, bathroom. Thought some more as they’d dressed,Harrison in his own unearthed soft-blue shirt and trousers, and Martin in his black T-shirt and black jeans.Harrison

hadn’t been sure what to expect the Heart of Amour Magique to look like. Truthfully, after the whirlwind he’d been spun through already, he was amazed he could think at all. Giving in to Martin had been a blessed relief.Harrison felt lighter, happier, and yes, more peaceful. Allowing himself to believe in magic again had made him giddy with glee. The farther away he got from Martin’s chambers, however, the clearer his head became. With clarity came doubt. He believed, yes, but what specifically had he opened himself to believing in? Giving up facts and figures was easy to do, but what did he have to cling to afterward?Harrison had a naturally inquiring mind. He had questions, and he wanted answers. Martin was both riddle and solution. A man he barely knew but to whomHarrison had signed away his life. Martin and magic. Legerdemain and whips and chains, that’s what Magician’s pets were made of. IfHarrison didn’t think too hard about what he’d done, he could still float on the balloon. The trouble was, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking once he’d started. Analyzing. Doubting. His experiences still felt right, but now it had begun to bother him, how he’d tossed everything he’d believed in and striven after most of his lifetime straight out the window. A tangled mess, that’s what he was.Am I fickle, flighty, stoned, or just plain stupid?Harrison wondered wearily. At least he wasn’t uncomfortable. The Heart of Amour Magique was located in a nicely appointed room full of honey-colored wood and manly-yet-country décor. The Heart glowed at him like lights on a Christmas tree, like visible laughter, but nothing more. The Heart had spoken, and now he waited forHarrison to make the next move. Great, sure. But what exactlywasHarrison supposed to do? Shaking hands was pretty much out. Martin pokedHarrison in his side, provoking a flash memory of the puzzling Lily and her constant prodding. “Harrison...” he warned. “What?”Harrison snapped. The anger felt wrong, so he quickly amended it. “What, Master?” “Say something else to the Heart. Make nice. The Heart is older than recorded history, so trust me, this is a big-time honor. I could count on one hand and still have fingers left over the number of people currently alive who’ve seen the Heart, much less talked to him.” Harrisonstruggled to understand. “If I just knew what you were talking about. This is the Heart of Amour Magique. I understand the title, but I don’t know what the titlemeans . And how can this talk?” He gestured to the vast diamond replica of a human-like heart, albeit one distorted by an extra aorta here, a few added valves there, and silvery-running veins that made him dizzy. “How does it work?” Jeez, questions, questions. Harry, you’re so tense I can hear your backbone creaking. Martin, just how tight was he wound up before you got a hold of him? “It’s ancient, right? Why does it have aDeep South accent?”Harrison blurted. Not “it.”Me.“He,” if you need to classify. Don’t call me just plain “Heart,” though. That’s girly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”Harrison hesitated. He wavered between thinking he’d truly gone nuts, imagining

a jeweled sculpture was talking to him, and accepting, just as he had done with everything else Martin had offered. “I still don’t understand.” Not many people do, kid. “I’m not a kid.” Oh, excuseme.You’re what, thirty-something? Shit, then, forgive me, sage elder. You know everything, O Holy Wise. Gah. Sorry for breathing . “You breathe? No. Wait.”Harrison tried to marshal his thoughts. Hard to do as they kept slipping away into the tangle of his confusion. “You’re misunderstanding me. I don’t know everything. You couldn’t be further from the truth. I can hardly make sense of anything. Not Martin. Not what we did in his chambers. Not why I feel the way I feel. None of this approaches the logical.” “Which is part of the reason I brought you here soon after the Heart asked to see you,” Martin said quietly. “I thought you might start struggling again. You have two basic natures,Harrison . Believer. Non-believer. You give in, and then doubt creeps back. The two sides are at war within you.” The Heart cackled. He’s not just whistlin’Dixie. Harry, c’mere, son. No, come on, I won’t bite. Honest to Pete. Harrisonglanced at Martin. Martin still took his breath away, so golden and perfect from the tips of his disheveled blond hair down to his toes. The only man he’d ever known who had pretty feet. Huh. Painted toenails. Purple, of course. “Harrison.” Martin winked at him with his brown eye, leaving the blue one open and guileless. Warm. Kindly. Like Thyne’s eyes had been once-upon-a-long-ago time. “Go on, pet. Don’t keep the Heart waiting.” Let him take his time, Martin. He’s been through a ton of shit tonight. Give the man a chance to cope. The Heart’s words were kindly, but his tone proposed a wicked dare. “No.”Harrison straightened. “I’ve never been afraid of a challenge.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. Indignity went a long way toward bowling over fear. “I beg your pardon?” You’ve never been afraid, challenge or no challenge? Horse balls. You’ve spent most of your life afraid. But, hey, I’m not putting you down for being scared. Bravery isn’t what most people think. Real courage isn’t jumping in with both feet and not giving a damn if you fly or fall. It’s being afraid but not sitting on your ass and doing nothing. Intrepid means you’re scared as fuck, but you act anyway, doing what you think is right. Good for you on that, son, even if you were wrong as tits on a boar hog for the most part. Harrisoncouldn’t decide if he was enraged or flattered. “You’re confusing me,” he said flatly.

Yeah, I get that from a lot of people. “No. You’re really befuddling me. Let me start with my most pressing question. You and Martin both say you’re the Heart of Amour Magique. Extrapolating from the title, and given a belief in magic -which, besides everything else, since you’re talking inside my mind, I can’t discredit -- unless I really have gone crazy, that is.”Harrison paused. “I haven’t, have I?” Nope. The Heart sounded downright chipper. Don’t fret, son. I’ve known my share of loony tunes. You’re not even close. “Reassuring, coming from a supposedly ancient entity who sounds like his real name should be Billy Bob.” A jolt of electricity arced out from the Heart to zapHarrison in the chest. Awhoof of air escaped him as he found himself knocked on his rump. His ears ringing,Harrison struggled upright. “What did you do that for?” Call it a warning. Damn, you of all people should know better than to take things at face value. Now youarebeing stupid. And rude. Believer, non-believer, both have questions, and they don’t spout off without thinking first . “That doesn’t apply to a great deal of the ‘believers’ I’ve encountered in my studies,”Harrison muttered. The Heart snorted.Okay, can’t deny that’s fair. But there’s a fine line between what I’m calling a ‘believer’ and sheep who don’t really believe in anything, least of all themselves, so they grab at any passing straw. What I call a believer is someone who’s seen real magic and accepts the fact of its existence . “What about fortune-tellers and mediums and psychics?” Just like the rest of humanity. Some? Total fakes. Others? Believers by the right definition. Like I said, a fine line. Takes practice to figure out who’s who, but I’ve been around a while. I can sort the sheep from the goats. “He really can,” Martin murmured. “And more. When he found me, I was locked in the Tower for practicing Black Arts, scheduled for execution and pretty pissed off about the whole thing. All I knew was I had power. I could see a little way into the future -- just glimpses every now and then, nothing really useful and not at all like I’m able to use the Third Eye now -- I could move things with a thought, and I didn’t know how to keep my big fat mouth shut. At least I was able to keep--” He shut his mouth with a snap. “Keep what? Andthe Tower? You don’t sound British.” “I’m also a few centuries old, and I haven’t been back to Old Blighty since Amour Magique-as-it-was-then left.”

“As it was?” “You think this place was a techno pit back in Ye Olden Days?” “Well, no, I suppose not. Hmm. I never saw you move anything telekinetically.” “Gotta keep some tricks up my sleeve. Otherwise, what do I have to impress you with later?”Harrison felt a small thrill of excitement at Martin’s words. “Outside of sex, that is.” Martin hooded his eyelids. “And, pet, as they say, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” The growing enthusiasm built inHarrison ’s groin. “I’ll hold you to that.” “I’ll hold you tome .” I’ll hold you both down like beetles pinned on a card if you don’t knock off the lovey-dovey and listen to me. I’ve got a few things to say, and then you can get back to boinking each other blind and stupid. Martin looked abashed. “Sorry.” He proddedHarrison . “My apologies.” Hmph. Okay, then. Most of this is forHarrison. Come a little closer, and put your hands on my sides. “Martin?” Martin looked puzzled, but indicated thatHarrison should do as the Heart had asked, even if they didn’t know what the soul of Amour Magique wanted. A deeply rooted instinct for survival guidedHarrison ’s decision. Albeit with his heart in his throat,Harrison went a step or two within arm’s reach and laid his palms on either side of the Heart. It was, he thought as his teeth chattered together, a little like sticking a fork in a light socket. “You’re hurting him!” Martin shouted. He’s just catching a buzz. Stings like a bitch, sure, but doesn’t do any damage. Besides, I’m in a generous mood, and I’m giving him a gift, so shut up. The tingling grew as sharp as pins and needles. Just whenHarrison thought he couldn’t take the sensation anymore, the Heart grunted. Okay, all done. Step on back, Henry. Harrisonretreated as quickly as he could. His arms were still vibrating and his scalp crawled with leftover energy. “What did you do to me?” Made you a Magician. “What?”Harrison yelped.

Kidding. Martin scratched the back of his own neck with quick, angry jerks. “Are you nuts?” Probably. I hang out with you, don’t I? What I actually did was give Hal here a good sturdy foundation to build himself up on as a Magician. He had a little juice. Now he has a lot. Teacher, meet your new student. Harrisonsputtered. Martin stared, clearly shocked. Hey, don’t look at me like a three-toed lizard, huh? I had my reasons for giving Hal this particular gift. He needs all the help he can get. Harry, buddy, you’ve got a tough road in front of you, son. Believe it or not, right? Ya know, I loved Ripley.The Heart’s tone grew wistful.Big on the questions, but deep down he believed, and I mean my definition of belief. Wish we’d had a chance to meet in person. Anyway, yeah, believe it or not, there’s your personal kicker . Harrisonput the question of magical abilities aside -- for the moment -- and frowned. “I still don’t understand what the problem is. I’ve accepted. I believe.” No. You’vestartedto believe. Dumping that load of scorn was a good start, but mind you, only a start. If you stay with Martin, every day’s gonna be a challenge. Every day, you’re gonna have to choose to believe or not. So. Think you’re up to running this gauntlet? Harrisonstarted to answer and then closed his mouth. He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. Well? “I don’t know,” he admitted. Ha. Give the little man a big cigar. That was exactly the right answer. “It was?” You bet. If you’d blurted out some kind of crap like “I do believe in fairies,” clap-clap-clap, I’d have knocked you on your ass again. You still have your courage, though. You don’t know what’s what, not when you aren’t in a submissive headspace -- and, Martin, you damn well better explain that to him before you go any further with your sex games -- but you’re stepping forward anyway. Good deal. My opinion stands. You’ll do. Harrisondidn’t know what to say. He did decide that being at a total loss for words was really beginning to get his temper up. “Thank you,” Martin cut in. “I do have a question of my own--” In a minute. I could readHarrisonand see for myself, but I’d rather hear him tell me out loud. Hal, listen up. How much do you know about Liam? For that matter, what about Lily? Or the black cat? Harrisonwas puzzled but found words at last and spoke honestly. He found it pretty obvious that the Heart appreciated blunt speech. “Liam? As far as I know, he’s nothing more than a pint-sized pain in the

ass. Lily? She strikes me as brave, but possibly the ‘stupid’ kind of brave you mentioned earlier. I like her, though.” The statement surprised him, but as he rolled it over his mind he realized he meant what he’d said. “I do. I like her.” And the cat? “Truth?” Wouldn’t accept anything else. “I hate cats.” The Heart snorted with laughter. Oh, yeah. If you stick around, I’m gonna have fun with you, watching you learn and grow and go ape-shit and end up a damn good Magician as well as a better man when all is said and done. Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy yourself. Mostly. Probably. “What do you mean?” I mean a lot of things, but let me boil it down plain as a peanut. You already know you and Martin are tied. Bonded. Soul mates. Don’t ask, because I’m not telling. Martin gave a snap of protest. Oh, put the teeth away. I’m not telling because you can figure it out on your own, Marty. Use your noggin. As I was saying, soul mates. Fated to be together, yadda, yadda, yadda. Fade to black on a note of suspense. You might not be ready -- hell, I’m pretty sure you aren’t -- but you have to make another big choice, Harry. “Which would be?”Harrison asked suspiciously. Stay or go? Harrison’s eyes grew wide. “I beg your pardon?” Not a hard question. But if I have to spell it out, I will. Besides being meant for each other, you signed a blood contract with Martin. You donotwant to know what’ll happen if you break the oath. Here’s where it gets tricky. I’m outtaCharlestonafter tonight. Places to go, people to see, managers to ditch. “Excuse me?” Never mind. I’m moving on. Probably headed forCalifornia. Thanks to that oath, I can’t take Martin with me and leave you here inCharleston. You either go with me and him, or this is both your stop on the wild train ride. “Oh,”Harrison said after a pause. “Oh?” “Damn,” Martin muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

The Heart’s jolly, countrified air softened. Yeah. Not an easy call to make. If you come along with us, Hal, you’ll be giving up your home, your career, your whole life as you’ve known it. But if Martin stays here inCharleston, I can’t say as I know what’ll happen to him. He’s not a kid. Staying here with me has kept him young way past when he should’ve been dead. He steps outside for good, and who knows? He could go poof and crumble into dust. Thus breaking your contract on account of the whole “till death do you part” spiel. And then what doyoudo? Harrisonhad grown more and more troubled as the Heart spoke. Love for the Magician was still an uncertain concept. All the same, he couldn’t deny he felt affection for the man -- now he realized he always had, from the very first e-mails they’d exchanged -- or the way he quivered with excitement when he thought of Martin’s D/s play. Stay or go? Risk all he knew versus all he didn’t know but wanted to understand?Harrison tucked his chin against his collarbone, feeling small and uncertain. If you stay, which I hope you will, you’ll find there’s a whole new world just waiting on you. You’ll never get old, never be sick, and never die. You’ll become a Magician for real and true. I could always use another hocus-pocus man -- never hurts to have a spare. Son, you don’t have to decide right this minute. Go back to Martin’s place and talk things over. You do have to choose by morning, though. I’d give you more time, but that’s how it goes. “I... see.”Harrison nodded. “Thank you.” My pleasure, son. And, hey? For what it’s worth, I really would like you to stay. You tickle my funny bone, and I’ve missed you. Harrisonfrowned. “Missed me? Whoa. One of the first things you said was that I looked different this time around. You keep calling me ‘Harry’ and ‘Hal,’ ‘Henry’ as well as ‘Harrison.’ Do you know why everything is giving me déjà vu? What do you really mean, here?” Figure it out for yourself, smarty-pants. Harrisongot the feeling that if the Heart could have tweaked his nose, it would have. Okay, scat. I’ve gotta get back to work, and you two need to have a good long talk. G’wan, get. “You are so in love with irritating me, aren’t you?” Martin demanded. The Heart glimmered as if snickering but remained silent. “Fine!” Martin threw his hands in the air. “Come on, pet. The Heart knows what he’s doing. He wants us to talk, so we’ll talk.” An idea had been developing in the back ofHarrison ’s mind. He wasn’t sure he dared, but damn, it was tempting. Well, why not try? “We’ll go talk when I’m good and ready,”Harrison said mildly. He took advantage of Martin’s delightful

surprise at his unexpected reply to catch the Magician from behind and pin him tight. “Gotcha!” Martin struggled againstHarrison ’s grip untilHarrison strengthened his stranglehold to the point of pain. “What are you doing?” his lover choked out. “Pets do not attack their Masters!” “Maybe everyday pets don’t.” Wrestling Martin around,Harrison kissed him. “After talking to the Heart, though, I don’t think I’m ‘everyday.’ And I think, even if I am a pet, I still have free will. So we could talk.” He groped Martin’s ass and ground their groins together, almost completely forgetting they were in front of a sentient audience. “But you know what? I’d rather we do this first.” Chapter Eight

No matter how Martin liked to think of himself, Master or Magician or otherwise, just asHarrison had suspected, Martin was first, last, and always a man, with a man’s reactions. In this case, a gay man’s reaction to another gay man’s blatant proposition. Or, to make a long story short, whenHarrison spun the Magician around again and pressed his hardened cock against Martin’s ass, Martin hissed and pushed back against him.Harrison thrust forward, drawing a sharp cry from his lover. “Ahh!” Harrisonfelt like hooting with laughter. Despite everything that was going on, he’d found an oasis of sanity. Some might argue there was nothing sane about sex, but sex reduced all men to a common denominator. Without the fancy words, sex made most men the same: more animal than human, driven by the need to get off and nothing more. Things might be different when Martin was too taken aback to play his role of Master, or possibly too horny to care, butHarrison decided the fancy stuff could go to Hell. For the moment. He had control, at least right then, and he planned to use the power he’d tricked away. “Yes,” he said sibilantly, mouth close to Martin’s ear but not quite touching the shell or lobe. Close enough to tickle with lips and breath and, he hoped, just far enough away to be maddening. “You like this, don’t you?” Another idea glittered in his mind. “The mirror has two sides, or so you told me. I haven’t had a chance to show you what I can do when I’m in charge. Now, I will.” He made the words into more of a seductive threat than a statement, then nipped Martin’s earlobe to watch him flinch and lean his head back for more. “Are you going to fight?” Martin’s head bobbed slightly as he exhaled, a sound somewhere between lusty and amused. “Not now. Going to spank you later. Stripe your ass like a candy cane.” Harrison’s cock jerked as his body decided he liked the image that conjured. Hmm. Kinky, kinky. Then again, nothing wrong with kink, was there? He’d learned a great deal in these past few hours, and so far, he’d enjoyed the lessons far more than he hadn’t. “Promises, promises,” he taunted. “Tell me, how would you like going first with a bit of rough?” To his satisfaction, Martin strangled out a curse and rubbed harder againstHarrison ’s groin. The Magician was probably damningHarrison ’s soul to Hell, but at the momentHarrison couldn’t have cared less.

The awakened animal withinHarrison , a beast of wild magic, wanted to claim his mate. Harrisondecided he didn’t need to use words when actions would work so much better. He had nothing to sit down on, but he could improvise. Using his greater body mass and strength, he shoved Martin away from him. As the Magician stumbled,Harrison grabbed his lover and turned him about, pushing the man against the nearest wall. No need for a prelude to a kiss, either. Better simply to dive in the deep end of the pool. “Stand there, and don’t you dare move unless I give the word,” he ordered. He could hear Martin’s smirk. “If you want, pet. I’ll let you play.” “You will, will you?” Yanking Martin’s jeans down past his hips, pausing briefly to curse the material as its tight fit clung stubbornly,Harrison bared the man’s tempting ass. After taking a second to gaze at Martin’s tight cheeks in admiration, he brought the flat of his hand against Martin’s left buttock as hard as he could. Oh! What a beautiful print his slap made, five fingers and a palm glowing richly pink on the golden skin. Martin swore; then he humped against the wall. The Magician liked this, then, yes, he did. So didHarrison , for that matter. Harrisonlet himself snicker and then got busy. Striping an ass like a candy cane? More like painting a statue’s ass crimson. Each firm spank left Martin’s cheeks blazing brighter and still brighter, until his flesh was a fiery cherry red and nearly gleamed. Martindid like this, apparently very much. After the few curses he’d spat at Harrison in the beginning, more for the show of it than anything else Harrison thought, the Magician gave up any pretense of being angry. In fact, he yowled and writhed like a cat in heat, wiggling his clearly burning buns to beg for more. Burning buns.Harrison hooted, feeling five years in age and at the same time far older and wiser than he had ever been. He could see what Martin enjoyed so much about D/s now, oh, yes. God, he hadn’t played -- really played -- any kind of game since he was in his teens, racing Thyne through the forest, swift as deer and loud as wild horses. To and in your memory, Thyne. I do believe you’d approve. Harrisondrew his nails up the contours of Martin’s ass. Though the nails themselves were cut short, he managed to leave some decent-looking scratches. Pretty, pretty. Prettier still the yelp, trailing into a whimper, from Martin. Harrisonpressed his mouth to the top of Martin’s spine and spoke against the arch of his lover’s neck. “I’ve warmed you up nicely, haven’t I? And you loved every second. I could get used to some kink with my sex.” Martin gasped and snorted a laugh as he tossed his head. “You call this kink?Harrison , you have so much to learn.” “And I look forward to you teaching me.”Harrison shoved Martin tighter against the wall. “Right now, though, I’m top of the class.”

“I’ll indulge you,” Martin drawled. It was a challenge, butHarrison met the dare head-on and winged back by grasping Martin’s bright-red buttocks and giving them a hard squeeze that he knew had to hurt like hell. The tight grip was meant to cause pain, but not for the sake of cruelty.Harrison knew Martin would love the brief, bright flare of agony/ecstasy as much Harrison himself felt sure he’d love being treated the same when his own turn came. But soon enough, soon enough, when he decided he’d let Martin have control again. Right then, though,Harrison had a beautiful scarlet ass flexing with anticipation in front of him, good and ready to be fucked. Who could say no?Harrison knew he might well have refused only a few hours ago, but he’d been a whole lot dumber in what he’d thought was wisdom. Live and learn. Not a bad motto. Without bothering to be careful,Harrison thrust a dry finger into Martin’s crease and found his way to the man’s puckered hole. After Oliver’s betrayal, the casual and meaningless fucksHarrison had indulged in on rare occasions, all experienced bottoms, were always a tad loose no matter what they’d claimed about muscle toning. Not Martin. His lover’s entrance absolutely refused to give way with a light prod, or even a hard one. Good God, was I this tight? How’d he manage? “Don’t tell me you’re a virgin.” “Close enough. It’s been a few centuries.” “Then here comes the end of the dry spell.” “Pun intended or not intended?” Harrisonslapped Martin’s hip. “Ow! You know, Iam keeping a score sheet for later.” “Talk, talk, talk.” “Then shut up and fuck me, why don’t you?” Harrisonwas definitely ready and would have gone right ahead, but he knew enough to hold back until the Magician was physically ready. Spanking and scratching were one thing, but dry fucking was something else entirely, and he wouldn’t go that far with anyone. It would be torture, not pleasure, and he meant to drive Martin wild with bliss. “Lube?”Harrison bit down on Martin’s shoulder just as he himself had been bitten, pinching the soft flesh between his teeth. A thought occurred to him, damnably too late. “Condoms?” “No need for condoms. Being tied to Amour Magique keeps me from catching or passing anything. Should have thought, though, should have asked. Sorry.”

“Should have, could have, didn’t. I’m clean, too, as it happens. I get tested routinely and received my latest results in the mail not a week ago.” Harrisondecided he liked the taste of Martin’s skin, nicely salty with sweat, and took another nibble. “Apparently I need to repeat myself.” “God, how can you talk like a lecturer when we’re--” “Practice. You have no idea how many pretty students give a person something to hide behind his lectern.” “Love to hear about them sometime.” “Twisted imp.” “Yeah, but I’m fun.” Martin wiggled lasciviously. “Let’s see. You want lube? I can get you lube. Hold out your left hand. Palm up.” Harrisonplayed along, entertained. “Let me guess. You’ll conjure some out of thin air.” “Close enough.” A slight shimmer appeared inHarrison ’s palm, flickering like fairy lights, and then it solidified into a bottle of appreciably high-quality olive oil. “Summoning spell,” Martin explained. “Use it. Fuck me.” “I said lube, not oil.” “Works the same. I like oil better. Fuck me!” “If you say so.”Harrison gave in, mostly due to the demands of his cock, which was definitelynot immune to Martin’s buttocks, his tight, tight pucker, and the rest of the Magician for good measure. He wanted to fuck as much as Martin wanted to be fucked. Oil it would be, then. He found wrestling loose the bottle’s cork a challenge, as the stopper had been sealed with wax so hard he eventually had to pick slivers away with his fingernails until the thing gave up its fight. “Fuck. Me.” Martin was evidently quickly running out of what little patience he’d had. “Not yet. I won’t hurt you.” “I like pain.” “No one likes being fucked dry. Stop teasing and let me do this.” “Say pretty please.” “Up yours,”Harrison replied cheerfully, and matched words to action by slicking one finger and thrusting the digit past Martin’s snug ring up the channel within. Martin hissed sharply, as if he didn’t like this much despite what he’d said. “Too much?”

“Two hundred years. Remember. Two hundred.” “And here you said you liked pain.”Harrison drizzled oil over another digit and gently shoved it in beside the first. His fingers were thick, and he worried more than a little about causing Martin real damage, but after initially drawing up tight, Martin quickly relaxed with a moan. “Good?” “Damn you.” “Wonderful.”Harrison began pushing his fingers in and out, taking his time about loosening, stretching, opening. As he worked, Martin’s grumbles of discomfort quickly changed their tune to mewls of pleasure.Harrison kept going until the Magician was finally thrusting back onto his fingers, Martin’s hole greedily gulping at their intrusion. Martin arched his throat. A drop of perspiration ran down the back of his neck. “Ready,” he declared breathlessly. “Honest. Really, truly ready. Fuck me already, would you?” “I’m a lot bigger than two of my fingers.”Harrison added a third slick digit and scissored his fingers wide. He burned to bury his cock in Martin’s relaxing entrance, but, no, he wouldn’t bruise or tear. Play aside,Harrison had never been and never would be a true sadist. Perhaps that was why he seemed to find the role of “pet” appealing. He and his cock both liked the idea of Martin playing rough with him when their turn came. Somehow, though,Harrison knew Martin would be equally diligent about not leaving any lasting damage. The Master would take good care of his pet. As soon as the Master got through writhing on his pet’s fingers. “Now, now, now,” Martin chanted. “Now!” Harrisoncouldn’t wait any longer himself. Dashing oil over his cock, swollen dark and rock hard, and then casting the bottle aside, he lined up with Martin’s entrance and began to push inside, not so roughly as to hurt, but not so gentle as to make him-Oops. Martin had snarled and thrust backward, spearing himself onHarrison ’s cock.Harrison ’s mouth gaped wide in a silent cry of surprise andohmygodsogoodsotightsohotsogood . “Why did you stop?” Martin grated. “I told you to fuck me!” Harrisonswallowed until he regained control, not at all easy with Martin’s muscles pinching him almost painfully -- but such a wonderful pain! Just to get the last word in, he murmured, “Yes, Master,” and began to move. Then, the oddest thing happened. Time decelerated. Literally. WhatHarrison had intended as a rough, fast thrust turned into an unhurried, easy slide. Martin bore down on him almost lazily, squeezing centimeter by centimeter. Interesting. Magic, or a trick of the mind? Who knew? Who cared?Harrison shrugged aside a host of other questions and got down to business. Really, this felt a bit like making love in a pool of warm syrup, but not at all bad.Nicely depraved. I’ll have to remember the idea for suggested use in the future .

As it was, he had what felt like the leisure to take all night and part of the next day on this fuck if he wanted. Which,Harrison decided, he did. Nothing he’d ever felt or done before could compare to these languid thrusts into deliciously constrictive, silky heat. He breathed in and out as slowly as if he were asleep, the sex-scented air filling his lungs with tingling warmth. With the leisure to decide,Harrison worked out what to do next and moved lazily around to grip Martin’s cock. As his fingers floated closed around that engorged organ, he heard Martin moan, the sound deep and hollow as it lingered around them. Delighted,Harrison tightened his grip and began pumping the Magician’s prick, hard on the upstroke, feather-light teasing of the head and slit, more intensely on the downstroke. He recaptured his own rhythm and manned a double assault. Lust, passion, and arousal filledHarrison until he thought he would burst, pop wide open and spill out every bit of his essence in a blaze of glory. Not quickly, though. In this stretching length of time, he could enjoy every second. Martin arched his back in slow motion, the shout he gave once again thick and heavy.Harrison felt, first, a gentle wash of hot seed gliding down his fingers and then an inexorable squeeze against his cock no man could stand against. He did explode, then, in the best way possible, his balls flush against Martin’s cherry-red ass, shooting gradual, thick jets of come so deep inside he wondered if he wouldn’t flood up to Martin’s chest cavity. Harrisonwhooped and shouted in triumph. The spell broke. Time, regular time, rushed back in on them, taking Harrison, and apparently Martin, too, by surprise. Lazy and graceful fumbled as they collided with a rapidly ticking clock, making both men clumsy.Harrison had just enough presence of mind to pull out,fast -- just as they lost their balance. Both of them went tumbling to the floor. Martin growled indignantly from his position, face-first and down. Harrison, who’d landed on his ass and sprawled onto his back, started laughing and couldn’t stop. He felt much too damn good. A fuck like never before plus hilarity in the afterglow. He could get used to this. Harrisonpatted Martin’s scarlet butt, well-pleased. “Come here and lie on my chest, if you like,” he offered agreeably. Martin cursed and swore as he righted himself, all elbows and knees until he was on his belly. “You are entirely too wordy when you’re not in subspace,” was the indictment. “Which, by the way, is the mental state a submissive enters into when he’s being dominated. It’s a bit like being hypnotized, although I did not hypnotize you. Lots of interesting things happen when a person surrenders their will. Oodles of good chemicals flood the body. Fun times.” The Magician arranged himself onHarrison ’s arm, head overHarrison ’s heart. “Well, I do have to say that was a good show. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Harrisonconsidered the question. “More than likely, I think.” Good show, kids. Very good. Now that’ll put heart into a guy. Get it? Heart?

Both Harrison and Martin flinched. “Fuck!” they said together. And how. Forget where you were, kids? Harrison and Martin exchanged glances,Harrison unable to do anything but feel himself blush beet-red and yet finding the sight of a tongue-tied Martin intriguing. It was definitely a new look on the man. I would apologize for watching, but, nope, I’m not sorry. You two were so pretty together I had to slow down the clock and enjoy. “So that was you,” Martin managed. “I wondered. I didn’t thinkHarrison could do that at present, but I wondered, and then I thought maybe I had lost control.” Nah. All me. Hope you liked. “I’m not objecting,”Harrison said dryly. Bet you’re not. Best sex ever, huh? Call it another gift. It won’t always be like this, but let Martin introduce you to a few of his toys, and you’ll pretty much have a rockin’ good time every time. “Oh, yeah. And speaking of which, would you mind if Harrison and I...” Nah. On your way, kids. “Thanks.” Martin waved at the Heart. “Let’s go,Harrison , pet. Repeat after me.pet . Small ‘P.’ I let you get away with dominating once, but once is all you’ll get.” “Let me? You loved every single second.” Martin glowered at him. “Don’t confuse me with your ever-present logic. Let’s go.pet . We don’t have to walk if you don’t want to.” He got up, stretched luxuriantly; then he snapped his fingers. “Here, boy!” “‘Pet’ or not, I am not going to answer if you call me like a dog.” “Wasn’t talking to you.” A small black spot popped out of thin air. It wiggled against Martin in an apparent fit of enthusiasm, then drew back and expanded until what had started as a pinprick dot yawned into an oval that was tall and wide enough for both men to fit through. IfHarrison wanted. Which he didn’t. Emphatically didn’t. The oval looked flat as a mirror, but whenHarrison peeked inside, he got a sense of terrible height and deep distance. “No way. No way on God’s green earth.” “Tough.” Incredibly, Martin picked upHarrison with a hearty heave-ho and shoved him tumbling

forward. “This is a portal,” he explained helpfully before the thing gulpedHarrison whole and sent him on a screaming freefall from Hell. Harrisonfelt and fought an unmanly urge to shriek like a little girl. Mercifully, almost as soon as the horrifying plummet began, it stopped.Harrison found himself butt-booted out onto the floor in front of Martin’s door, landing on his hip. Martin himself stepped out gracefully, except for a moment’s awkwardness when he realized his jeans were still down around his thighs and yanked them up with a snort. He grinned atHarrison . “Beats elevators, huh?” Harrisonglared. “Manners, pet, manners.” Martin patted the oval. “You can go now.” The yawning black void shrank to a pinprick again and then disappeared.Harrison gaped. “Did you make those?” He examined his fingers, still slick with oil from their recent sexual romp, and snapped experimentally. “Can I make them?” “The portals? No. They’ve been around since long before my time. They like me, though, and once they’ve finished hazing you a dab they’ll like you, too. Magic calls to magic.” Martin shoved his door open with one bare foot and held extended a hand toHarrison . “Up and at ’em. Inside. Sex and talk, talk and sex. Questions. Answers. Come on.” Martin led the way inside his quarters, not stopping until he reached his stone table. “Er, you sit. I’ll stand.” I’ll bet you will, Harrison thought, but didn’t say. He arranged himself like the best little sub he could imagine, gazing up at Martin through eyes as wide and liquid as he was able to make them. Martin stared at him, and then he cracked up. “Give me a break. You have no idea how ridiculous that looks.” Harrisonfluttered his eyelashes, sending Martin into another fit of giggles. “Okay, okay. Point made, pet. Hokey puppy eyes aside, I do have to remind you that you agreed to be ‘pet.’ We made a contract.” Harrisondropped the woeful spaniel look with a shrug. “Which I’m not going back on.” “Then why the big-top song-and-dance, not that it wasn’t fun?” “I needed to know if I still could.” Martin eyedHarrison with a mixture of Masterly disdain and ordinary human curiosity. “And are you satisfied you can?” “Partly. Look, I still don’t quite get it, but I feel more comfortable like this now.”Harrison went to his knees. He caught Martin’s hands and held them in his own. “If I remember anything about D/s correctly, I’m permitted to ask my Master about things when I need clarification.” “True.” Martin relaxed a touch. “Tell me honestly: the occasional topping treat aside, you’re really going

along with the bargain?” “I’ll answer you if you answer me.” “Pushing your limits, pet.” “How do I know when I’m pushing when we haven’t set boundaries?” “Pushy and flip and impertinent. But, fine, go ahead. Consider it a bonus. I’m not always going to be this generous.” Harrisonrubbed Martin’s fingers between his own. “Did you enjoy being with me?” Martin grinned. “Duh. It wasn’t bad, pet. Not bad at all. Was it good for you?” “I had fun.”Harrison paused. “I’m not sure, but in my research Dominants didn’t generally snuggle on their subs’ chests to enjoy the afterglow.” “I’m not your average Dom.” “Fair enough. I’m pretty sure I won’t be your average sub.” “Hmm. Speaking of which. The contract we signed--” “I didn’t come here expecting this,”Harrison said thoughtfully. “Truth be told, I’d often wondered why I didn’t just delete your e-mails in the first place. Do you think the Heart had his finger in the pie?” “Possibly. It could have been the Heart. Or Liam.” “Liam?” “I’ll explain later. Why didn’t you erase my e-mails?” Martin shrugged. “As a wise old owl once said, the world may never know.” “Beg pardon?” “Tootsie Roll Pop commercial. You know-- ‘How many licks does it take to get to the center?’” Martin elbowedHarrison in a friendly manner. He slid his tongue suggestively over his lips. “I wouldn’t call what you’re packing a Tootsie Pop, but it does have a tasty filling, and I’d like to see how many licks it takes before I get there.” “You’re the Master.” “True, but...” Martin freed one hand and scratched the back of his neck. “Let me clear up something that’s suddenly bugging me. Finding subspace doesn’t mean turning into a zombie the rest of the time.” “No, really?” “Smartass.” “Yes, Master.”

“And another thing...” Martin lifted a finger to his mouth and chewed at a nail. “I can’t help but think, again, how every time I look at you...” “It feels like we’ve known each other for a long time now, even though we just met tonight?” “In a nutshell, yeah.” Harrisonchose his words with careful thought. “I think the Heart knew. It wanted us to figure out the answer ourselves, though. Right?” “The names it called you,” Martin mused. “Harrison, yes. But also Harry and Hal and Henry, as you yourself observed. The Heart isn’t one for pet names, my pet. It knows something about us. Who we are, now.” He nibbled the nail harder. “Maybe, it knows who we were.” “Were? Do you mean reincarnation?”Harrison didn’t bother to keep the skepticism from his voice or face. “Reincarnation’s another kind of magic, pet, very basic, very elemental, very fundamental. The Wheel of Fortune turns and turns.” He shrugged. “I think the Heart’s saying we knew each other in another life. Maybe more than one life.” “He told me he had seen me before,”Harrison said slowly. “He did, didn’t he? Hmm.” Martin abandoned his nail and released his other hand. “Give me your hands.” “Your finger’s slobbery.” “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Martin dried it on the leg of his jeans. “Better? Hands. Now. Palm to palm.” “What are you going to do?” “See if the Third Eye will finally let me look into the deep past.” Such things still sounded insane, butHarrison believed in them and Martin. “Is it dangerous?” “Only a little. If my brain explodes, there’s a mop in the corner.” “Very funny. Is there really a chance you could be hurt?” “Not really. I could get a headache if I try to push the Third Eye past the boundaries it chooses, that’s all. Lighten up, pet. And hush. This takes concentration.” Martin shut his lids as they pressed their hands together; then he bit his lips and frowned. Harrisonlater suspected that what happened next had not been Martin’s intention. The Heart had probably meddled again, or it wasHarrison ’s own new magic. In any case, as Martin’s bi-colored eyes flew open, staring blankly,Harrison found himself sucked into the vortex of blue and brown, and he saw...

Hal -- begging with a guard at the foot of the Tower. Henry -- stealing a moment in a medieval monastery. A barker announcing the feats of the great Harry Houdini. All his dreams.Be damned.They made sense now .

Both men gasped as their contact broke. They jerked away, staring at one another. “Did you see?” Martin demanded. Harrisoncouldn’t lie. “I saw.” “So that’s why we’re soul-bound in this life. We’ve always been bound. We probably always will be.” Martin glanced aside. “I haven’t died again since being taken from the Tower, where Hal waited for me. I figured he had moved on around the Wheel and found someone else. Several someones. But I dreamed, sometimes, in my sleep, about finding him again.” Harrisonreached out to touch Martin’s cheek. “This night just gets more and more interesting, doesn’t it?” “You believe me?” “I have my own reasons. Please don’t ask right now. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”Harrison felt too dizzy to explain himself. The dreams that had haunted him for so long weren’t dreams, but memories. Glimpses into his past lives. He understood at last why he’d given in almost as soon as he’d seen Martin. Harrison-the-scholar might not have known Martin from any average Joe, but Harry and Henry and Hal most definitely had. It all made sense now, and although this was a head-trip of no small proportions,Harrison ’s acceptance brought a flooding, calming sense of peace that hushed his whirling thoughts. “I’m all right,” he said with a smile. “Thank you, Master. It’s good to meet you again.” “Yes. It is, isn’t it?” Martin gnawed at his lip. “Knowing what I know now, I wonder...Harrison -- not ‘pet’ for this question, justHarrison -- I need to understand. Do you think the magic of our reunion overpowered you? If you believe your acquiescence to our contract was unduly influenced in any way, we have to revisit the terms, blood oath or no blood oath.” “Huh.”Harrison tented his fingers under his own chin. “Can I have a minute to think?” When Martin nodded,Harrison pondered. So many different thoughts, all flashing through his mind at once. Stories. Fables. Myths. Wild colors. Yarns unwinding. Balloons soaring free into the sky. Whips and cuffs and feathers and candles. Who he had been, and who Martin had been to him.

The mistakes he could now remember making. The gift of being able to choose differently. “I think,”Harrison began, weighing the words, “I think you’re the man I’ve always loved, and will continue love again and again. I’m still willing to call you my Master, but, no, I’m not a magic-drunken drone. In fact, I have to warn you I’ll probably drive you crazy with questions about magic and subspace and a thousand other things. I suppose it’s a stupid thing to ask, but I will be able to access any library I want to from here, won’t I?” Martin beamed in obvious relief. “You can have books and research papers literally out the wazoo, pet.” “One more thing. I think our Master/slave relationship should stay in the bedroom for now. Until I’m ready for more.” Martin noodled that one over for a few. “Seems fair.” He cutHarrison a wicked look. “Bedroom sounds like a good idea. Want to go and try out this nifty flogger I got from a nyxie? It has little thorns that--” Harrisontossed his head back and laughed. Martin grinned at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Come on,”Harrison said, as Martin pulled him to his feet. “I’m game. Master.” He paused. “You know, you really don’t sound like a Magician to me, no more than the Heart sounds as old as he is.” “Things aren’t always what they seem, pet.” Martin leaned in for a short, sweet surprise kiss. “Not even here.” “Especially not here,”Harrison agreed with deep feeling. “Amen.” Martin kissed him again. “Let’s go. I owe you a spanking of your own.”

Epilogue

“Hello? Er, hello? Is this whatever-it-is working, Martin?” “Tuned in and turned on. Go ahead. Ten-four, good buddy.” “Patronizing ass.” A cough. “Liam? It’sHarrison . Are you there?” Muttered: “Honestly, this is like the arcane equivalent of walkie-talkies. I still don’t see why I need to let Liam know what my plans are. Simon’s the leader of the Brotherhood.” Hoot of laughter. “So Simon says. Trust me on this one. Liam’s the guy to go to right now,pet .” Grumble. “Yes, Master.” Slap. “Behave.” “Yes, Master.”

Liam raised his head from the desk in his control room, blinking with weariness and wondering if he were dreaming. Had he fallen asleep? He’d only meant to close his eyes for a moment. Glancing up, he saw the single “live” screen aglow with light. By the Tear,Harrison seemed to be peering through a peephole, his face distorted in the particular way of such viewports. Harrisontapped on the screen from his end. “Liam?” Liam rubbed his eyes. They felt dry and scratchy. “So hard to think,” he muttered aloud. “What has happened? Oh. Oh!Magic .” Smiling broadly in triumph, he spoke to the monitor. If Liam could hearHarrison ,Harrison would most certainly be able to pick up what he said. “I am here; this is Liam. Such a pleasant surprise to see you again tonight!” “Likewise.” The lecturer’s voice had changed. He sounded somewhat less stuffy, more human, his tone laced with a static-electricity tingle of... yes, magic. “I’m not exactly sure how I’m talking to you. Or why, exactly.” “I believe I know the reason, but you shall tell me in your own words. First, however... I trust you have enjoyed your time at Amour Magique?” Liam teased. Even distorted through the lens,Harrison bore the unmistakable look of a man who’d drunk deep from the waters of love and lust. Lust had the stronger taste to begin with, of course, drawing a man in for a second taste, and thus, if one were fortunate, love soon followed in passion’s wake. “You could say so. It’s been, er, rather educational.” Liam stifled a small laugh as he noticed a slim pair of hands fastening a collar aroundHarrison ’s thick neck. Ho, ho, this was worth the trouble he’d gone to in matchingHarrison up with Martin, wasn’t it? “Educational, yes,” Liam repeated, hiding his mirth. “Of that much I am certain. But again, in your own words, in your own time.” “I swear to God, there are too damn many people giving me orders today.” “And you’re having the time of your life,” Liam heard the Magician croon. “Fine, fine. Liam, my, well, Martin, the man I met tonight... I’m staying with him.” Liam nodded. “I thought you might.” “At Amour Magique.” “Yes, yes.” “Living in the club. Probably working for it, too.” “I assumed as much.”

“Amour Magique is leaving tomorrow morning.”Harrison ’s statements had grown in their bafflement as each had been spoken. “I’m going with the club to theCalifornia coast. I have no idea how the place is going to move itself cross-country, but it is, and I’m hitching a ride.” “Go, with my blessings. Go.” OnceHarrison got going, it seemed the man couldn’t stop himself from spilling the rest of his discoveries in a jumbled torrent of words. “Martin’s a real Magician and so am I, and the club is alive and has a Heart, capital ‘H.’ The Heart talked to me at great length. Then, I found out that Martin and I are reincarnated lovers, and I’ve been dreaming memories about him almost every night. He remembers the me I was, a man named Hal, when he himself first signed on at Amour Magique.” Harrisonhuffed, apparently indignant at Liam’s lack of response. “I’ve lived a few lives since he and I parted. I was Harry-fucking-Houdinion the last turn of the Wheel.” “A delicious irony.” Harrisonsighed, evidently nonplussed. “You’re not in the least bit surprised by any of this, are you?” “I cannot say I am, no.” Liam tapped the screen fondly. “This is no more than I had hoped for, for you.” Harrisonfrowned with abrupt and wary suspicion. “Who are you?” “Liam, of course.” “No, no, no. Let me rephrase.What are you? This sounds insane, but you don’t feel human. Even through this whatever it is.” “I am Liam, and that is all you need to know at the moment. Be on your way with Martin. Eat, drink, make love, and be happy. EnjoyCalifornia and all its delectable beach bunnies, not to mention the surf rats, who are far more appealing than their sobriquet.” “If you say so. Look, I have some things here. Personal effects. Will you ask Simon to put them in storage until I have a forwarding address? He can take care of subletting my house, too. Or selling it. And he can do what he wants with the furniture.” “I will see that this is done,” Liam replied amiably. “Anything else?” Harrisonfingered his new collar. When he spoke, he sounded a bit like a lost child. “Liam?” “Yes?” “Will anyone miss me when I’m gone?” Liam answered him gently. “Some, yes, but some, no. Such is the way of things. Know this, though.I will miss you. Though you have lost it, and no bad thing, your unbelievably stubborn disbelief endeared you to me as much as it drove me half mad.” “I hope I understand what you mean by that someday,”Harrison grumbled. “I think that’s it. Is it?” Liam stroked the monitor, holding back a yawn. “It will do for now. Good-bye,Harrison . Martin, you

old scoundrel, take care of him or I will thrash your hide.” “He’d enjoy it too much, and so would you.” “True.” Harrison and Martin waved good-bye, and the connection was severed. His screen went dark. Cocooned by the utter blackness of his control room, Liam sat quietly for a moment. He had done it. All eleven members of the Brotherhood had faced the impossible and come away with the stuff of true love in their hands. They had changed others and been changed in their turn. And now it was over. He had finished his good work. Liam yawned again. He let himself relax in the uncomfortable workstation chair he sat on, leaning back to rest his head. He spoke softly to himself, then. Old words. Not as old as himself, but still a good vintage. “‘If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumber’d here, while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream. Gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend. And, as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck, now to ’scape the serpent’s tongue, we will make amends ere long; else the Puck a liar call. So, good night unto you all.’” Liam yawned tremendously, smiling at his own flight of fancy as he quoted fromA Midsummer Night’s Dream . Oberon and Titania themselves would find the tale of this night amusing, so they would. “‘Give me your hands, if we be friends,’” he murmured, “‘AndLiam shall restore amends.’ It is done.” Liam didn’t let himself fall asleep. Rather, sleep roared over him in a crashing tidal wave, so that between one breath and another he was dead to the world. Lolling in his chair, head slumped against a shoulder, he rested at last.

“Good. Take it easy while you can. Wish you could grab more than forty winks, kid, I really do. It was a damned good show, every minute of the play.” Lilith materialized from the corner where she had slipped in, all unseen; she had watched the entire conversation withHarrison and its aftermath with great interest. “You’re not done yet, though,” she said, walking to where her son slumbered. “Something you didn’t count on goes down any minute now. You’ve got one more tower to climb, child, and it’s gonna be the hardest of them all. Poor guy.” She ruffled Liam’s hair with her long, pointed fingernails. A sliver of light fell across Lilith’s face as the door to the control room opened. She squinted. “Oh, it’s you. C’mon in, but be quiet, huh?” “He’s asleep?” “Yeah.”

“Not dead?” “Not yet.” “There’s a chance he will be?” “There’s a chance anything can happen at any time.” Lilith shrugged, but the corners of her mouth turned down in concern. “I’m trusting you with my boy,capiche ? I can’t help him too much more now. I won’t have a lot of power during what happens next.” “I’ll do my best.” “You’d better.” Lilith bent to kiss her son’s cheek. “And don’t tell him I stopped by, would you? He doesn’t need to know.” “I don’t agree with you, but I won’t say anything.” “Can’t ask for much more. Well, I could ask for utter, total obedience and your very soul, but I’m not in the mood right now.” Lilith addressed Liam one last time. “You really are one of my favorites, kid. Here’s looking at you. Here’s hoping you make it through the other side.” The man who had opened the control room door pushed it shut. “I’ll take care of him,” he said firmly. “Trust me.” Lilith examined him from head to toe. “Okay,” she said at last. “Be seeing you soon either way.”

The man watched her disappear, not in a cloud of smoke, but just simply fading away as if she had never been there. When she was gone, he went to Liam’s side and knelt by his lover, resting his head on Liam’s lean thigh. Everything else could just go to Hell for the moment. The gathering forces -- the Night Mare, renegade Lilim, even that treacherous little weasel Silas -- they were waiting, but some of them had been standing in line for centuries. They could just keep simmering away on the back burner for all he cared until Liam and he were both damned good and ready to get up and fight their final battle. So mote it be, as Magicians would say. Until Liam woke,Jordan would stand guard.

To be continued inThe Brotherhood 13: Incubus Call...

Willa Okati

Although a relative newcomer to the field of e-publishing, Willa Okati has been writing since before she was old enough to pick up a pen. She thinks she knows where those dictated stories are hidden, but she'll never tell. Willa is also very interested in the paranormal: magery, Wicca, New Age philosophy, transgender studies, and of course, writing. You can drag her away from the computer if you really fight, but you'd better be prepared for a battle. She is owned by far too many cats, all of which have serious attitudes, and addicted to anything made out of chocolate or involving coffee. She is quiet, but has a very wicked sense of humor that springs out when you least expect it. She loves to hear from readers, and always responds. You can contact her at [email protected], or visit her website to check out her work at www.willaokati.com.