Opposite Ends of the Spectrum

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StarCrossed 2: Opposite Ends of the Spectrum Copyright © 2008 by Reno MacLeod and Jaye Valentine All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680 Cover illustration copyright Alessia Brio StarCrossed Logo and Star Field copyright Reno MacLeod Used with permission ISBN: 978-1-60370-609-4, 1-60370-609-7 Printed in the United States of America. Torquere Press, Inc.: High Ball electronic edition / January 2009 Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680

Opposite Ends of the Spectrum - 2

Chapter 1

The jarring change from pavement to dirt under the old Ford truck's tires woke the incubus demon. He was immediately sick, the drugs used to knock him out wreaking havoc with his unique physiology. He did his best to keep the vomit outside the cage. After the last of his stomach's contents was purged, Dekin Swain rocked back on his heels, shaking, and looked around. Dekin was in a metal-barred cage, the top and sides covered with thick canvas. He couldn't tell where he was going, except that they were on a dirt road. Pebbles crunched raucously beneath churning tires. This disturbed Dekin. When he'd last been conscious he'd been living, working, and hunting in the windy city of Chicago. He was quite sure he'd never come across dirt roads in Chicago before. The old truck hit something that felt like a moon crater, and Dekin's head smacked the top of the cage. He cursed and kicked at the cold, hard iron in frustration. Someone had figured out what he was. After twenty-eight years of successfully avoiding detection in the mortal world, surviving quite easily among the human population and feeding off their promiscuous ways, he'd finally been caught. The last thing he remembered was following the graying film agent into an alley, the promise of money greasing the air despite the fact that coin wasn't the draw for Dekin -- sex was. Even old, tired, forty-something sex. Things had started much as they always did, with the guy feeling up Dekin's willowy body, grabbing his ass, kissing his neck, running fingers through his waist-length, sandy-blond hair. Telling him how fucking beautiful he was. Dekin had smirked. He knew he was beautiful. He knew he could be working as a high-class, highly paid model, posing for artsy fashion spreads in GQ and Esquire. But those jobs were far too high profile. Under lights and constant scrutiny, Dekin knew that somewhere, somehow, his true self would eventually be exposed. The dirty, gritty world of the porn industry was far more private, far less questioning, and allowed Dekin to feed without raising eyebrows. Where had I made a mistake? he wondered. Dekin couldn't recall anything after having knelt down in front of the guy. By the grinding in his gut he knew he'd been knocked out cold before getting a single sip of erotic essence. Dekin liked to play a dangerous game of self-starvation, fending off hunger until it was so keen that once he did feed it was euphoric far beyond the normal high. He was a junkie for it, stretching the time between feedings longer and longer, waiting for that perfect rush. It had all backfired on him. The truck engine cut off and died with a sputter. The vehicle rocked as the driver climbed down from the cab and slammed the door. Someone else was there to meet them. A discussion ensued. Dekin strained to hear their words, hoping for a clue as to his whereabouts. "Put him near cage six."

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"Are you sure? Kind of close to Red, ain't it?" "Hey, am I payin' you to ask dumb questions? No. Put him near cage six. Leave the tarp over him. I'll deal with it in the morning. Him and Red are gonna be shown together, so they might as well get used to being close." A smaller engine gunned. Dekin's cage shifted and bounced as he was unloaded from the truck bed to be forklifted to his final destination. He flattened against the bottom of the rattling cage, sweat beading his neck and spine. Fear stung his eyes. *** The teenage girl went to the nearest ticket booth and paid her five dollars admission to the Gambretti Brothers Carnival freak show. She stuffed rumpled change from a ten into her jacket pocket as she perused the ticket's text. The Bearded Woman! The World's Strongest Man! The Scarlet Angel!

Real Siamese Twins! The Lion-Faced Boy!

A logical explanation existed for most. Carnies had been around for a long time, and there was very little difference in how their freak shows were run. The world's strongest men were bulked up gym queens lifting rubber weights. Siamese twins were...well, they were conjoined twins, not such an oddity in this age of drug-assisted pregnancies. The lion-faced boy was a young man stricken with an extremely rare disorder commonly known as 'lionitis' due to the disfiguring cranial enlargements it caused. The boy in the true-life movie, Mask, had been so afflicted. Most states had outlawed the display of disfigured and deformed humans decades ago, but Gambretti and unscrupulous outfits like it were able to circumvent the laws easily enough. One little disclaimer in fine print stating that all performers were actors -- their oddities prosthetics or special effects -- was all it took. It was the so-called scarlet angel that had caught the girl's attention. She'd always loved angels and believed that they truly existed. She wandered past the other exhibits, barely paying attention. She'd seen people like these before whenever the carnivals came to town. Nothing extraordinary or unusual. She stepped into the tent, leaving the midway-lit night outside. Six wheeled-cages down the row of freaks, and the teenager cast her eyes on the creature she'd come to see. He was skinny as a rail, limbs gangling, spider-thin. Blood-red hair spilled long over his shoulders and down his back like he was wearing a coat made of crime scene. His wings were the same color. Feathered, nervously twitching, broadly unfurled to take up most of the cage. Skin like alabaster, pale and flawless. He looked up at her from the straw bed of his enclosure. When his unearthly bright, greenish-blue eyes lit on the girl, her knees nearly gave way. His face was bruised. So was his body; he'd been beaten badly. His left ankle was shackled, scraped to bleeding as if he'd been trying to shimmy out of the metal cuff. The girl felt frightened as she stared at the caged angel. She couldn't believe her eyes. With Opposite Ends of the Spectrum - 4

speed that belied her quaking knees, she darted from the tent. She heaved up the hot dog and popcorn she'd eaten earlier into a bush next to the gaily-painted carousel. *** It seemed like forever before the cage came to a rest and the scent of sweaty human faded away. Silence settled over everything, broken only occasionally as some creature or another shifted or moaned in its sleep. For a long while Dekin didn't move. His head was still spinning from residual tranquilizer drugs, but more so it was from the feeling of being utterly misplaced. Unable to see his surroundings, he relied purely on his other senses. Somewhere close he could hear teeth tearing through flesh, could smell the stench of old blood strong enough to twist his gut with need. While he didn't require blood to live, it was one method by which Dekin could receive pleasure and energy from his sources. When sex couldn't be had, heart-pounding blood could satisfy his hunger for a time. This was the blood of something long dead and old, but the demon had been hungry at the start of the evening. Now he was ravenous. The hours ticked by, and gradually Dekin became more aware of the creature in the cage next to his own. He'd known that something was there all along, and knew it was as supernatural as he was. But the creature had been closed off and silent, its secrets shielded. As sleep had apparently overtaken it, the being's defenses had lowered. Only then did Dekin get his first flicker of recognition. Even through the thick canvas he recognized the way the air surrounding the creature pulsed with energy. It stole his breath away, and the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Angel. Dekin squatted down, arms draped between his knees. He stared in the direction he sensed the angel was located, waiting for a change in its breathing pattern. It came sooner than Dekin expected, the angel waking and tensing. "You're not human, either." The angel's voice was soft and timid, barely audible through the heavy canvas tarp still covering Dekin's cage. "I certainly know what you are, so let's cut to the chase. Where are we?" A heavy, rustling sound came from the nearby cage. "Dyersville, Iowa. Near the baseball field in the corn. You know, the one from the movie." The angel chuckled, the sound sad and forlorn. "If you build it, they will come." "You've given up," Dekin said, his tone marginally softening. He gripped the edge of the canvas tarp at the far end of his cage and tugged. Inch by inch, the heavy cloth rose higher at the other end, giving him his first look at the scarlet angel. "How long have you been here?" Dekin asked, quite surprised at the condition the slender angel was in. Even huddled, it was obvious from the sharp angles of bone that the angel was being starved. Dekin knew he should feel no sympathy for a soldier of the side of Light, but caught in the same predicament himself he felt a pang of kinship. Opposite Ends of the Spectrum - 5

The angel shrugged. "A month or so, I guess. I don't know. I'm been trying not to think about it." The sound of the tarp flopping onto the ground was much louder than Dekin had anticipated. He cringed, looking in the direction of human voices. No footsteps came toward them, so he turned his attention back to the shattered angel. "This place looks like a simple carnival. What have they done to you? Why haven't you been able to escape?" The angel's wings ruffled a bit. "Well, for starters they keep my flight feathers clipped," said the angel. "I can't even stow them properly. They don't feed me much, so I'm pretty weak. There's no way I'd be able to run, I can't fly, and where would I go anyway? We're out in the middle of nowhere. It's wide open and flat. There's no place to hide for very long." He visibly shivered, tucking his wings about himself more tightly, as if for warmth. "They've got a hunter working for them. A mercenary. They brought in a vampire about two weeks ago, but he wouldn't cooperate. The carnies dragged him out of the tent yesterday morning at sunrise. He screamed for an hour before he finally turned to ash." Dekin's eyes went wide. With the situation apparently far more serious than he'd initially imagined, Dekin understood that he needed to free himself as soon as possible, regardless of the risk. "Do they ever take you out of the cage?" he asked, pressing against the bars to try and get as close to the angel as possible. "If we work together, we might be able to get out of here." The angel shook his head, his hair cascading about his shoulders. Despite his overall emaciated condition, they'd obviously kept his beautiful, bright red locks squeaky clean, conditioned, and combed. A big selling point, no doubt. "I haven't set foot outside of this cage since they dragged me in here. If you've got a plan, I'm all ears." The angel's wings fluttered softly when he laughed. "You sure you're up to conspiring with the enemy, demon?" "If it gets me out of here, yes," Dekin replied, reaching through the bars to pull the canvas cover into the cage with him. He piled it in one corner and attempted to find some comfort on top of its stiff folds. "Besides, I've never had an issue with angels. I'm an incubus. I don't really subscribe to the typical 'wreaking havoc on the world' attitude attributed to most of my demon kin." The first smile Dekin had seen in weeks spread across the angel's face. "Ah," the angel said, "a sex demon. And here I am caught with no pants on. Just my luck." "You say that as if it were a bad thing." Still in his fully human form and clothed, Dekin was far less exposed than the nude angel. He lay back against the makeshift nest and tried to gauge the age of his companion. Angels, like most demons, rarely appeared over thirty no matter what their true number of years might be. This one seemed quite young, not only in body but also in spirit. The fact that the angel had already let the fight go out of him was a strong indication of youth. "What is your name, child?" "You wouldn't be able to pronounce it. The name I've taken to live among the humans is Kelly. Opposite Ends of the Spectrum - 6

You can call me that, if you like." "You might be surprised at my skill with languages, but Kelly shall be what I call you. It is a far cry better than Red, at least." Dekin looked down the long row of cages. "In this age, I go by Dekin. I suspect they'll come up with some ridiculously hideous nickname for me, as well. Tell me, Kelly...you spoke of a vampire. Are their any others here like us?" Kelly shook his head. "No, not now. The vampire they killed yesterday, and a werewolf that was here a few days before that had already managed to escape. Otherwise, no, I'm the only one." Kelly's head lifted and his bright blue eyes met Dekin’s. "How did they catch you?" Dekin sighed. If they were the only ones, that meant that they were the star attractions, which in turn meant that someone would be watching them closely at all times. Escape would be difficult. He ran a hand over his face. "I'm not all that sure. Drugged somehow, probably something in the alcohol. Maybe the bastard painted his cock with it before he shoved it down my throat." Dekin leaned back with his head nestled between the bars. "I can almost understand them catching me. I have weaknesses, predictable ones. But an angel? I thought you were all too sly to be brought down by mortals." "I'm sorry," Kelly said. He pulled his left wing to the side, drawing his knees up to sit sideways. Dekin smiled at Kelly's failed attempt at maintaining some margin of modesty. On Kelly's left side, just beneath the ribcage, Dekin saw a long, deep gash that was partially scabbed over. "They used a tranquilizer gun," Kelly said. "One suitable for an elephant, I think. I overheard one of the workers say that I slept for three days when they first brought me here." Kelly's skeletally thin fingers skimmed lightly across the marred spot of flesh. "I'm weak. It's causing me to heal much slower than I normally would. This should have been long gone by now." The angel wasn't lying; Dekin could sense it. As a creature that fed off the life force of others, Dekin could read the vibrancy of those currents easily. Kelly's tank was running on empty. That aside, Dekin held an even deeper worry in the back of his mind, one that he kept silent from Kelly for now. He recalled the words the human had spoken earlier: he and 'Red' were to be displayed together. Perhaps it wouldn't come to that, and Dekin felt that false hope seemed better than none at all for someone so low on reserves. "Perhaps now that I am here, they will let you be," Dekin said. He watched as Kelly made his way across the cage until he was at the edge closest to Dekin's enclosure. Kelly rose onto his knees, gripped the bars with both hands; his wings, clipped but full and glossy, stretched out to his sides. "I don't think so." Kelly's head dipped down, and he spoke in a quiet, conspiratorial tone. "Don't eat the gruel they give you; that's where they hide the sedative. Everything else is safe. But then you'll have to feign docility, or they'll know you've not eaten it. That's why I was beaten. They figured out I wasn't eating the gruel because I wasn't compliant enough right afterward." "The sacrificial little lamb," Dekin whispered, remarking on the pose the angel had taken. Instinct drew Dekin to the edge of the cage and his eyes downward to the angel's groin. Though

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Kelly was not in the least bit physically aroused, Dekin could tell he was well formed. Dekin reached through the bars to run his fingertips down the centerline of Kelly's bare, bruised chest. "I'll do what I can to keep us both from harm, though I think I should warn you: they know what I am. They know how I feed. I suspect you are to be my source of nutrition." "They wouldn't dare!" Kelly seemed genuinely shocked. "Would they? This is a carnival. Children attend!" "The carnival isn't open twenty-four hours a day." "It's been obscene, the way they leer at me, the horrid words they use. And yes...I know about the incubi and their feeding habits." Kelly sighed and shuddered visibly, but he met Dekin's gaze with obvious strength in his eyes. "Not that it makes any difference to you, but whatever happens, I won't hold you accountable." Watching as Kelly figured it out, Dekin found himself intrigued. Kelly's immediate horror was typical and unsurprising, of course, and Dekin had to admit that it sent a thrill through him to watch the pure being fret. He was sure that Kelly was unaware of the shock it put through Dekin's own life force, the way it made the muscles at the back of Dekin's thighs tense. Dekin was aware, lustfully so. What did surprise him was the forgiveness. Not because he was being forgiven -- angels did that sort of thing, after all -- but because he hadn't actually committed the act yet. "You're very presumptuous to assume that I will do as they ask and rape you in front of them. Despite what you've been told, I have considerably more dignity than the curs who have us locked up here." "My apologies," Kelly said, eyes lowering. "I meant no disrespect. It was my understanding that the urges of your kind were irresistible, particularly if they deprive you of satisfying your needs for an extended period of time." Dekin felt a muscle twitch at the corner of his mouth. He didn't want to contemplate the ramifications were that to occur. Even now, as the words and promises tumbled from his lips, Dekin felt a pull of desire for Kelly. Dekin angrily refused to think himself so weak and quickly reinforced his previous statement. "Well, you won't find out. I'm going to figure out a way to get out of here before it comes to that. You need to get a grip, Kelly. Get some sleep; you look like you could use it, and I need some quiet time to think." Throwing himself down onto the tangled canvas, Dekin turned his back to Kelly and distracted his urges with formulating a plan of escape.

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Chapter 2

Dawn came accompanied by a dirty tin bowl filled to the brim with a thick, gray gruel. The slop sloshed over the sides of the dish when it was tossed into the cage, and the batter-like substance splattered over Dekin's face. Startled, and more than slightly enraged, he slammed his body against the cage, one arm reaching out. Four men stood around Dekin's prison, laughing and taunting. One, whose scent smelled disgustingly familiar to Dekin from the night before, came forward and grabbed his forearm, slapping a pair of handcuffs around his wrist. Dekin howled angrily as the other end of the shackle was fastened to the cage. He tugged hard, twisting his arm and attempting to slip free. The skinny man with the greasy, dark hair banged a wooden club against Kelly's cage. The wood skipped between the bars, the ratcheting sound startling Kelly awake, his red wings curving around him. Dekin watched as a second man joined the first at Kelly's cage, poking another club in through the bars and forcing Kelly to leave the corner. A third man -- the tallest of the bunch, his head as bare as the angel's ass -- opened the front of Kelly's cage. Dekin tugged at the shackle that held him fast, his eyes riveted on the terrible scene unfolding before him. The bald ringleader grabbed Kelly by his luxurious hair and jerked him out of the cage. "Hey there, Red, did you miss me? I'll bet you did," the man said, beefy fingers traveling down Kelly's chest. The repulsive human was making no effort to disguise his intentions. "Henry, you need to turn around, asshole. The demon can't see through your big ol' butt!" jeered the first man, who was rubbing his wooden club suggestively. Henry, the bald man, smirked and flipped the other man the finger. "Shut the fuck up and make yourself useful, Ed." Kelly's eyes closed, and Dekin could well imagine the disgust that Kelly was feeling. The men reeked of stale tobacco, of liquor and sweat. Revolting. Kelly was spun forcibly around by Henry's grip on his hair, giving Dekin a more favorable view. Ed made a snorting sound and poked his other co-worker in the ribs. "You do it, Paul. You're a queer -- make Blondie here horny." Ed cackled, turning the club on Dekin. Dekin snarled, grabbed the wooden stick and hauled the man against the cage with enough force to bounce Ed ass-first to the ground. "Enough fuckin' around! Paul, open the goddamn cage." Henry pressed his scruff-covered chin against Kelly's smooth-looking face. "See that demon in there, Red? Some of the boys think he's gonna rip you apart. Me? I think he's gonna have fun makin' you his bitch." The violet in Dekin's eyes drained away, leaving behind the color of brass as he listened. Kelly wasn't aroused, but the energies of his fear crackled through the air around Dekin, creating a pleasant promise of what could be had. Dekin's interest did not go unnoticed.

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"Hey, boss," said Paul, peering into Dekin's cage. "It's workin'. He's got a hard-on the size of Wyoming." "Then why's he still got his clothes on?" Henry said. "He ain't gonna bite; his attention's on the angel. Cut 'em away if you got to." The man holding Kelly grabbed him by one of his wing stems, twisting it with a hard, wrenching motion. Dekin ignored the hands that fumbled with his clothing. He ignored it when the blade used to cut the material away slipped and left a glistening red path along his back. What he couldn't ignore was the exciting disturbance electrifying the air as the pretty angel's breath hitched. A thickly treaded boot impacted Kelly square in his back. Dekin's eyes were riveted as Kelly lurched up the ramp toward him. Kelly tripped over the seam at the top to land hard on his knees, maddening inches out of Dekin's reach. Dekin moved to the end of his space, his shackled arm outstretched behind him. The resistance to his wrist suddenly disappeared as the man called Henry unlocked the handcuff, freeing Dekin now that the cage was again securely locked. "Go to it, demon," said Henry, smacking the side of the cage. "You got two whole hours before the locals come to poke at you. Make good use of it." Despite his freedom, Dekin made no move until the men had wandered off to tend to their morning chores. Once he knew they were alone, he eased himself forward on all fours. "You shouldn't be fearful, little angel," he said in a soft, harmonious tone. "It can be quite pleasurable, really." *** "Then I was correct, despite your noble protest." Kelly blinked slowly as he stared hard into Dekin's eyes. Dekin's head cocked slightly sideways, waist-length hair the color of wet sand spilling around his nude form. "Correct?" "That your base urges can't be repressed. Your hunger betrays you. You stink of it." "High and mighty to the end. You angels really are all the same." Anger reflected sharp in Dekin eyes, and he moved closer to Kelly. "Does my presence offend you so much more than those humans who would want to put their filthy paws all over you?" Slender, aristocratic fingers hooked a long lock of red hair, tugging Kelly's face closer. "I was going to be nice to you." Kelly didn't flinch. "And now?" "Now? Perhaps not." Dekin's caresses moved from Kelly's hair to his feathers. "I'll be doing you a favor. You've lost your will to fight, little seraphim. I am sure I can help put it back into you."

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Dekin's fingers snapped closed over a fistful of feathers, spinning Kelly around, and Dekin's taller, more muscular form covered him. Kelly gasped, caught off-guard. He was once again facing outward. Gripping the thick iron bars, he used all his strength to pull himself upright in an effort to slough Dekin off him. The action was futile, accomplishing nothing but to infuriate Dekin and to catch the carnies' attention. Kelly heard one of the men cackle and then shout, "Hey! Looks like we're missin' the show!" Trapped, Kelly sensed that Dekin was taking the time to enjoy Kelly's predicament. Knowing the incubi as a species as he did, Kelly also knew that Dekin's feeding wouldn't truly begin until their bodies were joined in some form of sexual union. Kelly knew tension leading up to the act was serving well to whet Dekin's palate. Dekin's soft, full lips brushed along the back of Kelly's neck, tongue teasing the small hairs there. "Relax for me, angel." The betting among the men outside the cage began, though Dekin seemed to care little about it. Dekin had what he needed now, and if the humans wanted to slake their own perversions watching, Kelly knew that Dekin wouldn't deny them. Kelly stared hard at the humans, wishing momentarily that his gift were for cursing rather than bestowing blessings. He glanced over his shoulder, Dekin's hot breath rasping against his cheek. "I realize I'm in no position to ask your favor," Kelly said, "but it would be the much lesser of two evils to look upon you rather than them if I must go through with this." Kelly heard Dekin make a small, acquiescing grunt, then he was pulled away from the bars and laid back in the stiff canvas bedding. "I'm doing this because you're mine, and I don't like to share," Dekin whispered, lying down on Kelly. Dekin's long, thick penis felt shockingly cold as it came to rest against Kelly's inner thigh, though Kelly should have expected it. The contact made Kelly shiver: from the chilly flesh, from disgust, perhaps from something else he wasn't prepared to acknowledge. He didn't struggle. There was very little point. He was weak to begin with from having been starved, and being trapped in the small confines of his cage with no exercise for weeks on end had atrophied his muscles. Dekin was taller, heavier, and obviously in much better shape -- it would probably take very little effort for him to overpower Kelly. The worst part was the presence of onlookers. Even though Kelly could no longer see them -- for which he was most grateful to Dekin -- he could smell them. He could hear them. Amused whispers. An occasional grunt or moan. The obscene, wet slapping noise of one or more of them jerking off. Kelly tried hard not to think about that, attempted to block it out by concentrating on the demon above him, by staring into violet eyes turning gilt.

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***

Dekin could see the light behind those electric blue eyes start to flicker and fade as Kelly gave in. His first thought was quite selfish. Without that spark, consuming the angelic life force would be like gulping down flat cola that had set in the sun for too long. One could tolerate it, and it might take the edge off one's thirst, but ultimately it would be utterly unsatisfying. Something needed to be done. Dekin found Kelly's hand and guided it to the cold length of his cock. "You look at me and forget about them," Dekin said to Kelly in a lover's whisper. "They aren't the ones about to make you sing. I need you to help warm me, little songbird. What they don't realize is that they've just given you a protector. No one else is getting near you as long as I'm around." Kelly's small, delicate hand curled around Dekin's cock, ice cold gripped in amazing warmth. "They won't offer you anyone else, you know," Kelly said. "They'll dangle me in front of you, then they'll take you to the very brink of starvation. You'll be a mindless animal the next time they toss me into your cage. They're bored. They'll wager on whether or not I'll survive it. I don't know about you, but I personally don't fancy being used for sport." A light shone in Kelly eyes, something Dekin hadn't seen until that moment. Kelly smiled a wan smile and his hips rolled gently. "They're nothing more than mindless animals themselves," Dekin said, panting against Kelly's ear as their connection became stronger. "We will play their little game until the time is right. You and I together can out-think these mongrels." The fire in Kelly wasn't out just yet. Dekin could feel it, and he worked to fan the flame with words and touch. He slid his hands slowly up Kelly's sides, fingertips catching on each rib he passed, and Dekin pressed his hips down between Kelly's seemingly never-ending legs. Dekin brought his mouth down, tongue seeking to invade the fragile smile. "So," Kelly said, his lips brushing against Dekin's. "We put on a performance for them. Wise, though I believe they'll suspect something is amiss should I appear too cooperative and you too gentle. That would make no logical sense to them." Kelly's smile brightened, and his wings stutter-fluttered. "Regardless of how pleasurable it might actually be for me." "Then I suggest you not be so cooperative, hm?" Dekin moved into position, and he surged his hips forward. He knew it wouldn't be so bad for Kelly; the tip of his icy cock would numb the tight, resistant muscles of Kelly's entrance as it was meant to do. One sharp constriction and then Dekin felt Kelly relax, muscles softening to allow passage. Shoulders hunched, Dekin thrust in. A moan dripped from his lips as searing heat surrounded his cock. Vital energies rushed through him, rocked him, recharging him with a potency that only such a divine spark could provide. Dekin felt Kelly thrash purposefully beneath him, and he pinned Kelly's flailing arms with a strength that belied his appearance. Behind them, the whooping commenced again, two of the carnies coming close to the cage as it rocked on its wheels. Dekin kept his face pressed to Kelly's, blocking it all out for the angel.

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"Look at me!" Dekin growled when Kelly seemed distracted enough to look toward the men. "Scream, angel! Let out the anger you've been keeping bottled up inside. Let me hear you wail!" Dekin snapped his hips, and he felt Kelly's warmth spasm around him in response. *** Kelly snapped to attention at Dekin's snarling demand, his heart beating as rapidly as a hummingbird's. He felt dizzy, lightheaded, lacking the energy to scream. Despite the pretense of performance, this needed to be over and soon. Tears streamed warm and wet down his cheeks, and Kelly sought solace in the arms of the demon that ravaged him. He buried his face in the crook of Dekin's neck, wrapped his legs around Dekin's waist, and with a whoosh he cocooned them both within the protective shielding of his wings. *** Dekin smiled when those bottomless, angelic eyes opened wide when Dekin finally hit Kelly's sweet spot. "Do you like that, sweetling? Hold onto me; here it comes again." The snap repeated, harder this time. Dekin didn't draw his hips back, but kept the pressure on that sensitive gland, watching closely as Kelly nearly bucked him off. On a base level, it gave Dekin a rush of pride to know he was about to make an angel have an orgasm. Yet, there was something else...something different about the connection between them. Kelly cried out with a raw, mewling sound that surprised even Dekin, and Dekin knew that what moments ago had been thought to be an abhorrent act of self-preservation by Kelly had now morphed into unbridled pleasure. Kelly's hips rose to meet Dekin's, pressuring to take him in deeper. "Dekin," Kelly whispered, breath hitching against the shell of Dekin's ear. "Dekin, I'm--" "That's it, little purity, come into my world now," Dekin cooed, tongue and teeth leaving marks in the milk-white flesh of Kelly's throat. Dekin moved ever so slightly, rubbing the crown of his cock along blood-engorged, undoubtedly sensitive tissue. Kelly's ass rose off the cage floor. Dekin trapped him, forcing him back down, keeping him pinned. The intensity built -- as Dekin felt Kelly's tension peak, so did the saturation of pleasure Kelly gave off. The level of intoxication that flooded Dekin was unlike any he had experienced before. Not even sex with other demons had matched the ardor of this union. White light crept along the outer field of Dekin's vision. He'd soon approach the zenith and black out. Before he did, he wanted -- needed -- to watch Kelly lose himself. Dekin's hands dropped to either side of Kelly's flushed face, captured it firmly, forcing eye contact. "Come for me, Kelly. Give yourself over willingly." Dekin rolled his hips slowly, sensuously. "Come...fall for me, angel." *** Although there was no denying that what his body felt was wicked, Kelly's thoughts remained Opposite Ends of the Spectrum - 13

pure. It was not only his own survival at stake; it was Dekin's as well. Kelly reflected briefly on the irony that it was in saving the very demon that had violated him which would allow him to keep his wings. He let his body go, trembling, his stomach knotting tightly while his orgasm surged through him. Sweat poured from him, and he clawed his hands wildly at Dekin's chest. This was a new experience for him; every nerve was on fire. Kelly shook violently, warm slick splashing Dekin's belly. Dekin's now-warmed cock withdrew, but not to leave Kelly empty for long. Three long fingers took its place, and Dekin's lips slipped smooth as silk over the tender, jerking flesh of Kelly's cock. Fingertips wiggled over that internal pressure point, Dekin moaning loudly, milking the very last drops. Kelly moaned as well, the sound far too carnal to his own ears to be coming from one so pure and good. Drained in all ways, he collapsed weakly into the tarp, unable to move, barely able to think or breathe. His eyes stung, vision blurred. Kelly cried, not feeling a whole hell of a lot like an angel at the moment. *** Dekin spotted the shining, wet tracks of tears. He heard the terrible sound of the angel weeping, positively the most pitiful thing he'd ever heard. Their audience had dispersed, laughing and collecting on their bets. Dekin stretched out on one side, slipping an arm beneath Kelly to pull him close. "The weakness and the emptiness only last for a little while." Kelly gave a small nod of his head. Dekin watched over Kelly as ginger lashes fluttered closed and sleep enveloped the angel.

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Chapter 3

"On your feet, Red!" Kelly startled awake, adrenaline shooting hot through his veins. Bleary-eyed and disoriented, he quickly scanned his surroundings. He was still exhausted, still nude, and still in the demon's cage. His wings twitched nervously as he stood. The shout woke Dekin as well. The human named Paul, now armed with an electric shock rod, stuck the weapon into the cage to get the angel to his feet faster. "His name is Kelly, you unwashed hick!" Dekin snarled. He yanked Kelly away from the prod. "Leave him be! If you know anything about my kind, then you'll know he needs to rest!" Paul unlatched and opened the door; he had broken a cardinal rule by not chaining the occupants first. Paul approached Dekin, shock rod in one hand and a pair of handcuffs in the other. "Get away from him nice and easy, demon," Paul said. "You can play again later tonight." Kelly leaned into a corner of the dilapidated cage, his legs trembling. Cold, rusty iron scratched at his back. He cowered behind Dekin, grateful for the apparent protection. Not to say that Dekin wasn't an enemy, too, but at least there was only one of him. Four humans or a single demon? Kelly would pick the lone demon any day of the week. But if Kelly were to depend on Dekin for protection and escape, Dekin would have to be more compliant with the humans. Kelly had learned that lesson early on in his incarceration. The more well behaved you were, the less attention they paid you. That was the only way Kelly had been able to avoid the drugged food for so long. "Dekin, please," Kelly whispered, "don't fight them. Not right now. Please, you have to trust me!" Despite Kelly's warnings, Dekin continued to keep himself between Kelly and Paul. The shock rod burned his flesh, enraging Dekin further. Violet drained from Dekin's eyes like sap from a tree, leaving behind pale gold irises. That in itself was too subtle for anyone but Kelly to notice, but a moment later Dekin's transformation became much more apparent. Dekin's manicured nails rapidly grew out and curled to become razor-sharp talons. Long, spiraled horns pushed through Dekin's scalp. Huge, leathery wings that had been mostly concealed in folds of flesh along Dekin's spine were exposed. Dekin lashed out, knocked the shock rod from Paul's hand, and he pounced on the overweight man. Sharp claws tore into the soft, vulnerable tissue of Paul's throat, and the remaining three humans hesitated, apparently stunned stupid, before descending on Dekin with clubs and ropes as Kelly looked on in horror. The carnies subdued Dekin enough to shove him into Kelly's vacant cage and slam the door. Kelly stared down at the dead man in disbelief as the other men fretted and paced. One of them

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grabbed the shock rod from the ground, flipped on the power, and drove the blunt business end of it into Kelly's stomach. Kelly was caught unawares. Stunned, he clumsily stumbled back, slumping to the floor of the cage. He winced, clutched his stomach, and took a deep shuddering breath. Kelly looked to Dekin and with the waning shred of strength he had left he clenched his teeth. "You are going to get us both killed!" *** "No!" Dekin howled, grabbing at the bars of his new prison, rattling the cage. He understood now, watching them turn on Kelly. Perhaps the men had known all along and were not as ignorant as he had imagined. Not only was Kelly a food source for Dekin, but also Kelly had fast become the one thing in this strange place that was familiar. If Kelly was killed -- and Dekin had no doubt they would do it since they'd apparently already murdered a vampire -- Dekin would be left completely alone. He would lose his food source and, just as importantly, in time he would lose his mind. "All right!" Dekin said to his captors. "Leave him be! I'll behave myself." "That's better," said the man with the weapon. Leering at Dekin, the man shook the tip of the rod in Kelly's direction. "You be a good little demon, and we won't have to fuck up your new little toy." The men walked away and left the tent. Kelly scooted to the end of the cage, closer to the one where Dekin was now imprisoned. "Are you hurt?" Kelly asked. Dekin paced his cage, head bowed low. Each time he changed direction his horns hit the bars, clanking loudly. He paused at the sound of Kelly's voice and looked up at him. "No," Dekin said, lowering his eyes again. His stomach was scorched black in four places where the shock rod had come into contact. He grunted. "Maybe slightly. Are you all right? I'm sorry; those assholes read more into our little joining than I had hoped they would." Outside, an engine started. Dekin recognized it as the forklift that had lifted his cage off the truck and onto the wheeled platform. He flexed his wings. Kelly's face flushed nearly as red as his hair, and as he opened his mouth as if to speak another man came into the tent. He got down on his knees and pressed close to the bars, one arm stretching between them with obvious effort. "Come closer," Kelly told Dekin, "and hurry." Curious, Dekin did as Kelly asked, keeping one eye glued to the man at the far side of the tent. "What is it?" Kelly's hand came within inches of Dekin's belly. Flexing his wrist, Kelly flattened his palm and his scarlet-lashed eyes fluttered closed. Increasing warmth emanated from Kelly's hand and flowed into Dekin's burnt flesh.

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"What are you doing!" gasped Dekin. As he watched, the pain of the burns intensified swiftly then faded into nothing. The soot-black marks on his skin flaked off and fell away. "You...you healed me." "Thank me later," Kelly said, snatching his arm away from Dekin and pulling it back into his own cage. "He's the man who comes in to groom me each day. It's almost time for the show. Now, sit down and be quiet." Kelly's voiced sounded firm but pleading. "Please, Dekin, I'm begging you. We can talk later, after they put us away for the night." Dekin bared his fangs in frustration, but then quickly covered them over as the groomer cast a glance Dekin's way. The man turned his back. Dekin watched carefully as the man opened a cabinet, extracting a ring of keys and an armful of grooming supplies. Dekin turned to Kelly, nodding softly as he curled himself up on a small pile of hay at the back of the cage. Going against all his instincts, Dekin resigned himself to trust in the angel. The groomer unlocked the cage, climbed inside, then secured the gate behind him. "Turn around, Red," the man gruffly said. "You know the drill." Kelly nodded and turned around, remaining on his knees. Dekin watched as the groomer commenced brushing Kelly's hair, the long, red locks nearly touching the floor of the enclosure. He saw Kelly cringe as the man ran a hand through Kelly's tresses, and he heard the man quietly moan. Though no sexual contact was involved, per se, the act looked bizarrely intimate. Dekin became angrier by the second as he watched through two layers of bars, and it took every ounce of willpower for him to refrain from raving. Eventually Dekin turned around, putting his back to Kelly so he couldn't see. It helped only marginally because then the groomer's moaning seemed twice as loud. "Finish already," Dekin growled under his breath, digging his claws deep into the cage's woodplanked floor. "Should count yer lucky stars there, mate, that the boss wants ya mean and mussed-up lookin'," the groomer said. "Else I'd be happy to show ya just how pretty I could make ya. Now shut the fuck up, or L'il Red here gets a special present from me this time 'round." *** Kelly winced, praying that Dekin would be silent and not stir up any further trouble, but at this point he wasn't willing to bet on it. Apparently their keepers had spread the word that the incubus had been acting possessive toward the angel. If there was one thing Kelly had learned already about Dekin, it was that impulsive self-expression was not one of his problems. Kelly sighed. The groomer set the brush down, exchanging it for the shave cream and razor. "Turn around now, so I can get ya nice and smooth down below. Nobody wants to pay good money to see an angel with a flame-red treasure trail." Kelly turned his back to Dekin, glad that the demon had chosen to turn his back to him as well. The groomer went to work. Kelly kept his eyes closed tightly, tried to think pleasant thoughts of Opposite Ends of the Spectrum - 17

something, anything else. Of anyplace not there. ***

The cage bounced as it was hauled from the quiet confines of the storage tent to the much larger show tent. They passed a long row of cages, each one holding some poor, deformed human against their will. Dekin flattened himself against the floor, his stomach clenching as his nerves were strained. Kelly's cage was already in place, turned slightly so when the other cage was brought near, they could view one another without being close enough to touch. Once his cage stopped moving, Dekin uncurled from his pile of hay and pressed himself against the bars closest to Kelly's cage. A steel shaft streaked in, striking the bars close to Dekin's face. Dekin scrambled back on all fours. The man laughed. A voice called out from the front of the tent. "Five minutes until the curtain goes up, gentlemen! Hustle!" "They want you angry," Kelly said, "and aggressive." He nodded toward the sign propped up on an easel angled toward where the gawkers would enter. Mortal Enemies, Heaven and Hell! The words were embellished with flames and clouds. Dekin rolled his eyes. "Of course they do," he muttered, shaking his head. "How long will they keep us out here? How long do we have to keep up this masquerade?" "Six hours give or take a few minutes." There was a commotion at the entrance, and Kelly spoke quickly. "They'll put us away before the rest of the carnival closes. Once it gets to be around ten o'clock, the customers are more interested in the rides and the midway games than with the sideshows." "They should have captured themselves a lesser demon if they wanted fire and brimstone crap." Dekin drew his hand down his face. Sounds of children came from the front of the tent. "Maybe the humans are closer to hell than we thought, to let children come in and view naked angels and demons." Dekin began to settle into the hay again when a jolt hit him hard in the side. The rod threatened, forcing him toward Kelly's cage. "Fucking pussy of a demon! C'mon and get angry, freak!" yelled the bald carnie, Henry. "We need you to give nightmares to our customers, not make 'em feel sorry for you!" Dekin hissed. He flared his wings out toward his attacker just in time for the first paying group to ooh and aah over them. Despite the growing crowd, Dekin kept his eyes on Kelly. Kelly knelt, piling a mound of hay on his lap, covering up further by draping his hair. Scarlet wings spread wide and Kelly bowed his head, the palms of his hands pressed together prayerfully under his chin. When the first group of customers finally looked away to marvel over the angry horned demon, Dekin saw Kelly cast a quick glance in his direction. Kelly flashed him a smile and a quick wink before resuming his performance.

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***

Dekin had never been so thankful for the dark before. As the last of the lanterns were extinguished, and the carnies pulled the tent flaps closed for the night, Dekin felt the tight cords of muscle in his shoulders and back relax. He looked toward Kelly, worried for the angel. They were both exhausted. Displaying their heavy wings and acting their parts for close to eight hours -- word-of-mouth had traveled fast, according to the carnies, increasing ticket sales -- had taken its toll. "Are you all right, Kelly?" A quiet, rustling noise came from Kelly's cage. "Just peachy. You?" Dekin kicked at the flimsy, tin bowl of gruel in his cage. "I'll survive. We need a plan." Kelly let out a long heavy sigh. "As I said before: I'm all ears. Every time I think I've come up with a good idea, once I analyze it thoroughly I always find a way to punch holes in the plan. I've thought about this until my head is pounding so badly I can't half see." Kelly sighed again, sat up, and scooted to the end of the cage where it nearly butted up to Dekin's. "Maybe you'll have better luck, Dekin. A fresh perspective and all that." "A friend of mine once told me something. He was always getting himself into trouble, and I asked him once how he always managed to get himself back out." Dekin crawled toward Kelly, keeping his voice low. "He told me that the first rule of survival is to know that you are going to get hurt. That you might live, but there is no way you are getting out of there without a scratch. Once you accept that, you can focus on more important things besides worrying about if you'll get hurt or not. At the time it seemed a bit far-fetched to me, but I think I understand his point now." "Did it ever occur to you that maybe your friend was just lucky?" Kelly's head cocked and he smiled. "Nonetheless, let's say there's some truth to that axiom. Resolved: we're probably going to get hurt. That doesn't unlock the cages." "Well, now you have to go and get all difficult," Dekin said, teasing. He stretched out one wing. "We have to steal the keys somehow. We know they keep them in that cabinet with the grooming supplies. Maybe I should just offer to blow Mr. I-Can-Make-You-Beautiful in exchange for the keys." Kelly's cheeks went rosy, and one hand flew to gather back his hair. "I hope you're not serious," he said, barely above a whisper. "I'd rather die than let–" "I'd do it. I've had worse." The tent flap made a sudden, fluttering noise. Kelly froze. Dekin's head snapped toward the sound, his pointed ears pricking up and his nocturnal eyes picking up movement too large to be a rat, too small to be one of the men. Dropping onto all fours, Dekin moved to the end of his cage, closer to the source of the sound.

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"It's all right, child," Dekin said, catching the barest glimpse of a cherub-like face before it disappeared behind several bales of hay. A teenage girl, no more than fifteen or sixteen years old, peered out at him from behind the straw. She squinted at him through the darkness, eyes widening as her vision seemed to adjust. The girl sucked in a loud, gasping breath. "It's all right," Kelly whispered to Dekin. "I recognize her; she's been here before. She reacted violently when she saw me. I think she knows what I really am." Kelly's smile was kind as he motioned with one hand to beckon the girl closer. "It's all right, Elizabeth. We won't hurt you. Please come out." The girl took a tentative step out from behind the bound stack of straw. "H-h-how do you know my name?" Her voice sounded shaky, frightened. Kelly tilted his head to one side, and his smile brightened. "I think you already know how. Don't you, Elizabeth?" She nodded. "You're a...you're an angel. A real, live angel." Kelly nodded then shifted his gaze to Dekin. "Dekin, this is Elizabeth. She came to visit me on the same evening you arrived." Dekin pulled his wings in tight to his body and knelt down, head bowed in a manner that he hoped would make him seem a bit less threatening. "It's very nice to meet you, Elizabeth. You are a very bright girl to know us for what we really are." He looked toward Kelly and smiled gently. "You like him, don't you, child? Such a shame to have him locked behind bars. A sin, don't you think?" Dekin turned his eyes back to Elizabeth. He could hear her heart pounding. Elizabeth nodded, her expression frightened and wary. "You are not an angel." Her eyes went to Kelly. "Is…is he okay? He won't hurt me or anything?" "No, he won't hurt you, Elizabeth," Kelly said with conviction in his voice. "I promise. Do you think you can help me and my friend?" Seeing that Kelly had much more sway with the girl, Dekin remained toward the back of his cage, in shadow. Elizabeth took in a deep breath, nodding her head fervently. "Okay," she said. "What can I do?" "Keys," Dekin said. "If you fetch them, you can free your angel. They are out of our reach. There, on the back wall in the large, oak cabinet." Elizabeth looked as if she was listening intently as Dekin spoke, but then she shifted her attention back to Kelly. "It's all right, Elizabeth," Kelly said soothingly. "Please, do as he asks. Everything will be okay, I

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swear to you." Elizabeth tiptoed toward the cabinet. Kelly looked at Dekin with a hopeful smile lighting up his face. The cabinet was held shut by a rusty old hook, high up on the right side. Dekin watched as Elizabeth stood on her toes, pressed her thumb against the hook harder and harder when the latch wouldn't give. Finally, it slipped free of the eye with a loud click. Dekin could see and smell the blood of the cut on her finger from the edge of the roughly cut board. Elizabeth's obvious effort and sacrifice paid off; the door swung open. Dekin watched her, and he let out a long-held breath as he saw the glint of keys. "Bring them here, child." Elizabeth stretched and grabbed the keys, closed the cabinet, and then hurried back to the cages. She held the keys out to Kelly. "Give them to my friend," Kelly said. Elizabeth approached Dekin's cage with a cautious posture. She held out the keys. Dekin looked to Kelly, and Dekin felt a silent understanding form between them. Nodding once, he reached through the bars of his cage and gently took the offered keys. He smiled at Elizabeth, careful not to bare his teeth. The keys -- there were no less than twenty on the single ring -- lifted his spirits even as he flipped through each one, trying them in his lock. He did his best to keep the keys from striking one another and jangling loudly, but even the softest clink seemed amplified. As Dekin worked, he kept an eye on Kelly, who waved the girl closer. Kelly reached through the bars, cupping her face in his hands. "You've done a good thing, Elizabeth." Kelly's eyes closed, the air crackled softly, and from experience Dekin knew that Kelly had just bestowed a powerful blessing on the girl. "Now go, Elizabeth," Kelly said. "Once you get to the fence, run home as fast as you can and don't look back." Dekin saw Kelly smile broadly at Elizabeth as she backed away with evident reluctance. "Don't worry," added Kelly. "I'll be watching over you." Elizabeth's face broke into a smile that nearly matched the brilliance of Kelly's. Before she turned on her heels and scurried away, Dekin noticed that the cut on her finger was gone. With their rescuer out of sight, Kelly sagged back against the iron bars, exhausted. Dekin was aware that blessings were draining on angels, and Kelly had already been so weak. "How's it coming?" asked Kelly. "You shouldn't have done that. You were already barely able to stand. You'll need strength enough to run when I get this door open." At last, on the thirteenth try, there was a soft click and the lock fell to the ground. Dekin dropped from his cage, ears and eyes on alert for any sign of detection.

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"Whatever happens from here on," Dekin said, jamming the key into Kelly's lock, "that girl isn't the only one who will always remember you. Thank you for trusting me."

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Chapter 4

The streets of Boston were always at extremes. From July through September the inhabitants of the city sweltered in concrete-reflected heat. The other nine months they froze their asses off. The tall buildings made natural wind tunnels of the streets for the bay breezes, chilling stone, metal, and flesh alike. Dekin didn't mind. Cold flesh was always more eager to be warmed up by a willing mouth. Boston had become his playground. The New England city was far enough from his current residence to avoid suspicion and large enough to sustain plenty of dirty souls ripe for the picking. It was long past sundown on a day when the weather couldn't decide if it was ready for spring and had thrown down a thin blanket of snow in defiance. Dekin stomped his feet convincingly -he never really felt the cold -- and bummed a cigarette off his companion. Tonight it was a he: thirty-something, brown hair, professional looking. Eric was his name, but Dekin really didn't care. He batted his lashes again at his intended and pressed his hipbone against the guy's thigh. *** After their escape from the carnival, Dekin and Kelly had decided they'd both had enough of the Midwest. They'd traveled together, finding a mutual feeling of safety with each other they hadn't needed before their experiences in Iowa. They'd ended up in Salem, Massachusetts, the site of the notorious 17th century witch trials. The quaint little burgh had over the years become a safe harbor for supernatural beings: angels, demons, were-creatures, and vampires. Human witches, too, of course. Once mercilessly hunted, these beings now intermingled and peacefully coexisted with the human citizenry, although that peace came with a price. While the supernaturals had freedom of movement within Salem's borders, they weren't permitted to display themselves openly. The Mayor, the City Council, and the Salem Police Department's Division of Special Enforcement were all aware of the presence of supernaturals in their town. In fact, under current law all supernaturals taking up temporary or permanent residence in Salem were required to register their whereabouts with the DSE within twenty-four hours of their arrival. For Dekin Swain, registration had seemed a small price to pay in exchange for Kelly and him to live their lives without fear. Theirs hadn't always been an easy friendship, the angel and the incubus, and the tension may have been what had led them to seek and accept a much more physical relationship. The eventual sex seemed to settle their threadbare emotions, but by only the second night Dekin could see the wear it would put upon Kelly. Despite Dekin's growing affection for Kelly, sex was and always would be something of a danger. If Dekin made love with Kelly too frequently, Kelly would gradually wither and die. A fact of life for one who chose to consort with an incubus. For several months after they had become intimate following their escape, Dekin had simply abstained from intimacy with Kelly, feeding elsewhere exclusively. That hadn't worked for either of them. It had taken them a long while to work out a precise, workable formula for their

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intimate relations. Once every three weeks, with Kelly on a power diet the week before and after. An agreement was made between them to allow Dekin to hunt in neighboring towns and continue feeding from other sources to keep the incubus from being at odds with his own needs. It hadn't worked out quite as well as they had hoped. *** "So tell me, anyone as pretty as you has got to be a model," Eric shouted over the thud-boomthud of the nightclub music, his hand molding itself to the form of Dekin's ass for the ninth time since they'd met two hours earlier. "No, never interested me," Dekin replied, smiling as he pressed his rear into the questing hand. Eric was already four shots toward probably forgetting what would happen later that night, and Dekin wasn't about to let his own churning stomach ruin a perfectly good meal. He'd put up with the guy's mauling then maul Eric right back. "You're kidding! Honey, I have a man you simply have to meet," Eric went on, lips wet against Dekin's ear. Honey? Where the hell do these guys get the idea women and gay boys actually like being called 'honey'? Dekin stifled a sigh and turned it into a smile. "Oh, yeah? You think I'm pretty enough for that?" He jumped as something -- hopefully Eric's finger -- grazed along the ass line of his leather pants. He watched the young CEO down another shot, then was herded toward an isolated corner. In seconds, Dekin found Eric's bulk barring his escape, a knee pressing up between his thighs. Fucking prick, Dekin thought. How many boys have you sweet-talked into this corner? How many of them have you left sobbing in the little boys' room afterward? Demons have nothing on the wickedness of humans. "You're beautiful. But do you know what would make you even more beautiful?" Eric asked, his hand slipping up under Dekin's wife-beater. His fingers traced Dekin's well-defined, washboard stomach. Eric started to pant. Dekin shook his head, stepped back, and hit the wall with his shoulders. Even though he knew he was in no serious danger and that Eric was about to meet judgment for all the evil he'd ever done, Dekin's heart raced. Men like Eric excited Dekin Swain. They were that little bit of chaos that he craved as a demon. If Eric made him feel a little bit dirty, so much the better. The essence later would be far sweeter. Eric's hand took a turn south, his fingers slipping under Dekin's tight leather waistband. "Don't get me wrong. This look is hot on you. But, oh baby, you'd look so fucking fine in something a little more feminine." Dekin wrinkled his nose, partly from what he took the comment to mean, but mostly from the tongue now bathing his left ear. "Do you mean something like...a dress?"

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Eric moaned. Dekin wasn't sure if the man hadn't come in his pants right then. He sure as fuck hoped not; what a waste that would have been. "Like that idea, don't you, baby? Why don't you come home with me? I have some little outfits we could slip on you, make you really pretty. Maybe take some pictures." Eric's words slurred as he practically humped Dekin's thigh. Dekin wiggled his way free, trying hard to decide if this one was too much and whether he should deep-six the whole idea. The night wasn't too ancient. He might still be able to find some poor, desperate soul before the bars closed if he ditched the pervert now. Maybe. Dekin bit his lip. He sighed, closing his eyes, gathering his strength as he turned to face Eric. "All right, but only if we go now. A girl needs her beauty rest, you know." Dekin bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from retching. *** In Dekin's opinion, Eric's apartment suited him perfectly. It was every bit as pompous and polished as he was. Black and tan ruled, and the furniture looked as if it had been purchased five minutes ago. The one saving grace was the fully stocked bar. "Drink?" Eric asked. Dekin smiled politely and shook his head. "You don't mind if I do, I hope?" Dekin shook his head again. Eric poured himself a glass of red wine. This was going too fucking slow. Dekin could feel his palms starting to sweat, his head beginning to pound. He'd really pushed himself this time, waiting until his body was screaming with the need to feed. "I don't want to spill anything on the pretty clothes you're going to put me in." Eric grinned a predatory grin and put his drink down. "You shouldn't worry about that, honey. If you spill something on your clothes, I'll have all the more reason to rip them off you." Eric took Dekin by the arm and led him down the hall to the bedroom. The whole thing seemed so routine. The clothing -- if one could call it that, since there was barely enough material to make one dress let alone two -- was already laid out across Eric's bed. "Do these belong to your girlfriend?" Dekin picked up the first little number. Red satin, cut high in the front and low in the back. Dekin felt himself go slightly stiff. He didn't do drag often, but it wasn't something he necessarily disliked. The men he'd been with who'd requested it had certainly never complained. "No girlfriend; I'm single, wild and free. I just like boys in dresses." Dekin changed clothes in the bathroom. Eric liked boys in lots of ways. Dekin knew it, even

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though no one else suspected. No one on Beacon Street had a clue about what went on in that apartment. Eric had been very precise. Organized. Neat. Just like his apartment. Upon stepping out of the bathroom, Dekin found himself pinned to the wall, wrists nearly crushed by his sides as Eric slobbered against his mouth. "Ow. Easy, okay?" Dekin gasped between teeth-crashing kisses. "Will you let me tie you up so I can take some pictures?" Dekin was moved toward the bed. A length of clothesline lay there, and Dekin was positive it hadn't been there when he'd gone to the bathroom to change. "I don't know," Dekin said, his mind working fast to make sure he stayed sharp and on top. He'd been smart not to accept a drink, quite certain it would have been spiked with something to knock him out. Eric wasn't taking no for an answer. Dekin was pressed back against the bed, and Eric crawled over him, wrapping the thin cord around Dekin's wrists and through the rungs of the headboard. "An artsy boy like you certainly must appreciate film noir-style photography. Just a few?" Eric ignored Dekin's gasp; the knot tightened. "You like this sort of thing, don't you? Seducing men and bringing them back here to...to what? Rape them?" Dekin twisted his body around on the bed, hips rising up, the red dress parting just so. As he had hoped, it caught Eric's eye and the lustful human knelt between Dekin's legs, both hands sliding the dress slowly up. "Most of them don't mind it, Dekin. If they come home with me they know perfectly well why they're here." A smirk crossed Eric's face when he caught his first glimpse of Dekin's cock. "Didn't even bother with the panties. See? You knew what was coming. I really don't think any jury in the world would call this rape. Now, shh. No more talking, all right, baby? Let me warm up that cold dick of yours." Eric pulled open his wool dress pants and shoved them down over his hips. "Not everyone's mind works like yours, Eric. I thought we might have sex, but I didn't expect to be thrown into bondage." The cord cut painfully into Dekin's skin. The flash from Eric's camera went off, momentarily blinding him. He cried out in surprise as Eric shoved his legs upward and Eric pressed between Dekin's parted thighs. "God, you're perfect!" Eric cooed. "I might need to keep you around for a while, baby." There were more blinding flashes, each one making Dekin's light-sensitive eyes more and more disoriented. In between photographs, Eric paused to stroke Dekin's cock, giggling like a child with a new toy as he found Dekin becoming more and more aroused. "Sure, we could do this again sometime--"

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A crack across Dekin's face silenced him. "I told you not to talk, didn't I? Fucking ruining it. Keep quiet like a good girl." Eric snarled. "You can whimper. I like it when you bitches whimper." Dekin clamped his lips closed, eyes narrowed angrily as he glared at Eric now sloppily mouthing his dick. He winced when Eric's finger pushed up inside him, and he turned his head away. Just a little bit more, and then you'll know what it's like to be violated, bastard. "Let's play a little game," Eric said, crawling up Dekin's body and pulling the red dress up. His groin nestled into Dekin's, and then Eric's strong hand cupped Dekin's chin. Eric's hand slipped slightly lower. "Keep your pretty eyes on me, baby." Eric purred, his hips rocking back and forth as he guided himself into Dekin with one hand. His other hand wrapped lightly around Dekin's throat. Anxious to join with his prey, Dekin did as he was told, even spreading his legs wider for Eric. He grunted and hissed, the entry painful as Eric became obviously impatient as well. When it happened, Dekin arched violently. Eric's hips drove forward unmercifully, pinning Dekin to the sheets. Dekin smiled. He felt the flow of energy, and with it power tilted his way. Still, Dekin needed to make sure Eric remained distracted enough with the sex so he wouldn't sense the inevitable lightheaded sensation until it was too late. Dekin rocked his hips up and cried out as if in pain. "Stop! Oh, God. Please, please let me--" "Shut up! I told you, shut the fuck up!" Eric's hand tightened around Dekin's throat, pressing hard on the windpipe as Eric thrust his cock deeper into Dekin's spread ass. Dekin bucked and struggled, and Eric rode him like a cowboy on a bronco. Throat sore, Dekin felt true panic kick in. He'd gotten himself into a dangerous position. Every second Eric was inside him he became stronger, but if he were to become unconscious it would all be for naught. "I'm going to remember you for a long time, Dekin." Eric moaned, his hips slinging forward at a punishing pace. "I've had lots of pretty boys, but none like you. Usually I dump the bodies, just keep the pictures." Slap. Flesh stung as Eric drove in hard. "Usually, that's enough." Slap. "But from you?" Eric obscenely licked his lips. "I think I need something a little special in the way of a souvenir." Eric's fingertip traced a line under one of Dekin's eyes. Slap. *** Dekin dropped the white cord onto Eric's belly. He rubbed his wrists where the clothesline had left burns. He gazed down, snorting in disgust at the man sprawled on the bed. After four rounds of taking Dekin in every position possible, Eric's stamina had started to wane. By then, Dekin

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had absorbed enough of Eric's essence to turn the tables, and as Eric had untied him to reposition for another go-round, Dekin had sent his elbow back and snapped the man's neck. Working quickly, Dekin erased his pictures from the digital camera's memory card. He left the hundreds of images of Eric's other various victims for the police to find. He scanned through the pictures, recognizing at least one person from the evening news -- a boy who'd gone missing two months ago. His cleanup completed, Dekin gave the bedroom one final look. He'd been right. As far as he was concerned, demons had nothing on the wickedness of humans. All Dekin desired now was to go home and fall into his lover's angelic embrace.

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Chapter 5

It was snowing again by the time Dekin arrived home. The earlier hours of the night seemed like an entirely different life from the one he was living now. He'd succeeded in the hunt, but he'd uncovered an ugliness for which he'd been unprepared. Dekin knew he should be used to it by now. On average, one out of six men he went home with turned out to be sexual predators. Only a handful had been cold-blooded killers. He slipped his key into the door as quickly as possible. The clock at Eric's apartment had read 2:45 when he'd left, and that had to have been close to an hour before. Kelly would be in bed with any luck. Taking a deep breath, Dekin shouldered the door and popped it open. *** Kelly had never gotten used to this. Intellectually he knew it was a necessity -- Dekin was an incubus, and therefore required sexual energy to sustain himself. No different than a human's need for food. Kelly also knew that he couldn't sustain Dekin by himself. As it was, even the once-every-three-weeks moratorium they'd put on their sex life had taken its toll. By virtue of his very nature, Kelly was frail, much more fragile physically than even mere mortal humans. But knowing all this, analyzing and intellectualizing it, still didn't make it any easier. As on so many similar nights, Kelly had been unable to sleep. He knew where Dekin had gone, and why -- one of their cardinal, unbreakable rules being honest, full disclosure -- so Kelly had puttered aimlessly about the house, pacing. Wondering, as he always did, if Dekin actually enjoyed being in the arms of another. They never talked about that, another cardinal rule. Kelly was curious about that aspect, but for the most part he really didn't want to know the truth. Kelly pulled the black satin kimono tight around his knees as he sat on the bottom step, waiting for Dekin to return from Boston. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Dekin burst noisily through the front door. *** Light from the street lamp spilled into the hallway, illuminating Kelly's frail form. Dekin paused. He wasn't surprised to find Kelly waiting for him, but he had been hoping that tonight of all nights Kelly might have fallen asleep waiting. Dekin knew he was in horrible condition and that he reeked of sex. Nothing he could do about it now. "You're still awake. You shouldn't have waited up." "It's nice to see you, too." Kelly stood, clutching the shiny, black fabric close. His eyes went to the angry red brush-burns on Dekin's wrists. "Are you all right?" The hurt in Kelly's voice hit Dekin hard. Aware of the eyes locked on his wrists, he lifted his forearms. "I'm all right, but I ran into someone who had a twisted sense of fun. I made sure he played his last game tonight." Dekin's jaw felt tight. "I'm sorry I worried you, Kelly. I just want

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to wash this stench off me then crawl into your arms." With a smile of pure compassion on his face, Kelly took Dekin by the hand and tugged him up the stairs. "Do you derive any pleasure from this whatsoever?" Kelly paused halfway up the curved, mahogany staircase, turned around and faced Dekin. "I know we're not supposed to talk about this, but..." Kelly grimaced, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. "You always seem so miserable when you come back to me afterward. Is it because you don't enjoy it, or is it because you're afraid to let me know that you do?" Dekin felt wedged into a corner for the second time that night. He wasn't quite sure why tonight had been different. Maybe it was because he'd met someone darker than himself, but whatever the reason, Dekin decided he needed to tell Kelly the truth. "Sometimes, I do enjoy it. It's carnal. Dirty. A little kinky to know I'll never see that person again. But other times, like tonight, it reminds me how lucky I am to have someone like you. That life out there is ugly. It has no mercy, and it spares no one." Nodding, Kelly turned and resumed his guiding of Dekin up the stairs. "Then let's get you cleaned up." *** Kelly's heart pounded wildly in his chest. He could barely catch his breath, and every inch of his body felt wet with a heavy layer of sweat. His thighs ached from the effort, muscles tense and tight. His arms trembled under the burden of supporting his own weight. Kelly knew that once this was over, he'd collapse into a boneless heap, curl himself up into a tight ball, and sleep for days. With a final, downward surge of his hips against Dekin's, Kelly took his lover deep. He let his long, red hair drape over his shoulders to tickle Dekin's bare chest. Kelly rode Dekin hard. His ass muscles clenched spasmodically with the power of his own climax, dragging Dekin along with him over the edge and into the pleasurable abyss. Kelly smiled, watching Dekin's eyes flutter and his lips drawn back in a snarl as wave after wave of sexual essence flowed into Dekin. He felt Dekin come deep inside, and then Dekin's shoulders fell back into the pillows, fingers sliding easily down Kelly's sweat-slicked torso. Kelly crumpled forward, spent and drained. It was always the same. Wonderful. Incredible. Insanely hot. Exhausting. Dekin gathered Kelly into his arms, soothing with gentling words. "I'm not letting you leave this bed. You need to let me take care of you." "You always do," Kelly said. He leaned up to kiss the tip of Dekin's nose. Even that small effort was taxing. "You always have." Trembling, Kelly skimmed his shaky fingers down Dekin's beautiful face. "Love you a lot, you know?"

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Dekin kissed Kelly's fingers, settling in close enough that noses touched. "To have put up with me for this long, you must." In their ten years together -- aside from the evenings when the need became so great that Dekin was forced to pick up a quickie -- Dekin rarely left Kelly's side. While Dekin always tried to deny it, Kelly knew that Dekin still had nightmares of waking up to find him gone. Sometimes the dreams involved the carnival, sometimes a mysterious lover, but each time the experience left Dekin in a tender mood for hours. Kelly felt bad about Dekin's nightmares, but he couldn't deny that he enjoyed their residual effect. Dekin's toes played absently with Kelly's. "An old friend wrote me," Dekin said. "He told me that he'd be passing through in a few days, and he asked if we might get together. I'd really like you to meet him." Kelly settled his head into the crook of Dekin's shoulder. "Who is he?" "He's a demon, like I am. Maybe not exactly like I am. Probably very little like myself, actually. But he is an artist, and what I would really like is for him to paint your portrait while he is here. Being one of us, it would be safe for him to see your wings in order to capture your true likeness." Kelly smiled, curling in tighter against Dekin's warm, naked body. He wasn't sure whether to be flattered or concerned. "I'm not going anywhere, Dekin." Kelly cocked his head to one side. "Why would you want a facsimile?" Dekin's expression clearly stated that he felt slightly foolish. "It would commemorate our ten years together. If you'd rather not, I understand--" "No!" Snuggling up close to Dekin, Kelly felt his eyes grow heavy and his breathing starting to slow. "Whatever you want is fine with me, Dekin," Kelly said with his last bit of energy. "Wake me when he arrives." *** The shower upstairs was still running. Dekin smiled, looked at the grandfather clock in the dining room and watched it tick closer to three o'clock. Kelly had always loved long, hot showers, and on any other day Dekin might have joined him. Lost in that thought, Dekin jumped when the doorbell rang. He straightened the shoulders of his sweater, smoothed the thighs of his tailored pants as he checked himself in the foyer mirror, and then Dekin went to greet his guest. The man at the door was exactly the way Dekin remembered him. Battered, black jeans, worn Tshirt. A sketchpad under his arm and a smile that could chip a diamond. It took Dekin a moment to recover from ghosts of the past. "Jace Barton. I'm so glad you could make it." "Look at you in your classy clothes!" Jace stepped forward, his free arm wrapping around Dekin's waist. "This fancy lifestyle suits you well, Dekin."

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Dekin tensed slightly, turning his face away when Jace's mouth lunged for his own. Warm lips barely grazed his cheek. "Jace, I have a partner now. I have for a long time." "Ah, yeah. The angel. Where is he?" Jace leaned to one side as if to peer around Dekin's taller frame. Bemused, Dekin shook his head. "He's in the shower, but he'll be down soon. Meanwhile, I have some things I need to go over with you." Dekin could have placed a bet on the next words out of Jace's mouth. "Do you two fuck? I mean, how do you manage to get around the whole sucking-the-life-out-ofthem thing?" Bingo. "Very, very carefully." Dekin led his guest into the sitting room, offering a chair by the window while he himself took the one closest to the door. "Jace, I am requesting this favor because I know you are the best. You are discreet, and your talent for capturing your subject's soul is without equal. I need your expertise, but you have to promise me that you will behave yourself." "Why, Dekin -- don't you trust me?" Grinning, the handsome, dark-haired demon settled into the chair. "We both know you have wandering hands, with or without a paintbrush in them. Kelly is free to do as he wishes. You asked about how we make things work. I cannot be with him as often as I need to feed, as I am sure you realize. He and I have an understanding that I do what I need to survive, so long as my heart is faithful and I always come back to him." Dekin folded his hands in his lap. "It has left me with terrible guilt." "You want me to show your angel boy a good time?" One of Jace's eyebrows arched up. "And here I thought you wanted a painting." "I do. And that is all I want unless Kelly wants more. All I am saying is that if it comes to that, I have no objection. I only ask that you treat him well. He isn't a whore; he's my lover. If you would hurt him--" Kelly burst into the sitting room, his hair dripping wet and a bath towel cinched around his waist. He came to a lurching halt. "Uh oh," he said, cringing and smiling sheepishly. "Dekin, I didn't realize...I mean I'm...I didn't..." Kelly's arms slapped down resignedly at his sides as he looked at Jace. "Hi." "Beautiful," came the comment from Jace by the window, the word sounding moaned as much as spoken to Dekin's ears. Dekin didn't need to see his old companion to know that Jace was devouring Kelly with his eyes. He knew Jace Barton had a thing for angels, particularly ones who gave off an unaffected air of innocence such as Kelly did. "Kelly, perhaps you should go get dressed." Kelly opened his mouth as if to reply, but was instantly interrupted.

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"I wouldn't hear of it, Dekin," said Jace, "If I'm going to paint him, I really need to do some sketches first." Jace positioned his drawing pad on his lap. "Please, Kelly, if you would sit on the sofa there?" Kelly's eyes went to Dekin, and Dekin gave a slight nod. "Lie on your side and talk to me, Kelly." Jace pulled several pencils from his considerable arsenal before deciding on one. "Tell me about something that makes you happy." Kelly sat on the edge of the couch, palms resting beside him on the crushed velvet cushion. He shifted with apparent discomfort under the weight of the artist's wolfish gaze. "I don't even know your name." Dekin looked on silently as Jace was out of his chair and by Kelly's side in the blink of an eye. "Forgive my manners, I assumed Dekin had told you. My name is Jace Barton." Jace offered his hand, and as Kelly shook it Jace used the motion to propel the angel downward and onto his side. "He did mention that he wanted me to paint your portrait, didn't he?" Dekin nodded. The towel hiked up high on one hip, and a very red-faced Kelly tugged on the cloth to cover up. Dekin could hear Kelly's heart pounding from clear across the room. "Do you always manhandle your subjects like this?" Kelly's fingers fiddled with the edge of the towel. "I find that adrenaline induces a spark in my subjects that's impossible to capture otherwise." Jace's hand covered Kelly's, halting the towel's movement. "So shy." "Jace..." Dekin said with an intentionally warning tone. Jace's smile was dashing, as always, and the hand that had Kelly's captured slowly eased away. "Remember, Dekin, you asked me to do this. If you'd like, I can pack up now and take my talent elsewhere." "No." Dekin inhaled deeply. "No, please continue." "Hitch the towel upward an inch for me, Kelly," purred Jace, fingers lightly brushing over the angel's cheek. Kelly's heart continued to pound loudly in Dekin's ears. The air was thick with tension, strung like a tightrope between Dekin and Jace. Kelly squirmed on the couch in a way that indicated he could sense it. Dekin feared the look on his own face was underscoring the strained sense of anxiety. He watched, trying to control his conflicted emotions as Kelly hiked the towel up to reexpose a scant bit of thigh. "Better?" asked Kelly.

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"Perfect." Jace moved Kelly's arms a bit until he seemed pleased with their position. He returned to his chair, and soon Dekin heard the scratching sound of carbon flying over the paper's surface. Jace's blue eyes flicked up and peered over the edge of the pad. "I think it's only fair that you know ahead of time that I intend to paint you in the nude, Kelly. At Dekin's request, of course." "Is that a fact?" Kelly shot a mildly displeased look at Dekin. "I assumed 'portrait' implied something to hang over the fireplace and not something with staples near my navel." Dekin swallowed hard. Kelly propped an elbow on the couch and rested his cheek in his hand. One leg slid slinkily up the other until a hip seductively jutted out. He tossed his hair back, and long, scarlet bangs fell strategically over one eye. "Something like this?" Dekin slowly closed his eyes.

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Chapter 6

Not long after the sun came up the next morning, Kelly checked over his shoulder before entering the spare bedroom that had become Jace Barton's temporary studio. He held the door firmly to keep its old hinges from making noise. Tiptoeing, he approached the easel. No sooner had his fingers touched the bottom edge of the protective cloth than Kelly heard the door squeak behind him. He cringed his shoulders up to his ears and prepared himself for an angry onslaught. "You could have just asked to see." Warm lips brushed the shell of Kelly's ear from behind, teasing with each breath Jace took. "It's a piece I've been working on for someone else. He has to leave the country for a bit soon, so I've been working hard to finish it up for him. Go ahead, lift it." Embarrassed at having been caught, Kelly's face felt suddenly warm. "I'm sorry. I was just curious." Kelly moved away and reached for the shroud, pulling it from the painting. The image revealed was one of a young man with stunning, white skin and long, ebony hair, who was leaning against a cherry tree in full bloom. His eyes were a startling ice blue, and despite the small glimpse of fangs at the corners of his mouth, his smile was one of pure innocence. A white-tipped, black fox's tail curled casually around the subject's thigh. "He's right around your age," Jace said, "and just as shy. Maybe even more so. I should be finished with this piece by tomorrow night, and then we'll begin yours the next morning." Kelly reached out as if to brush the subject's face with his fingers. He retracted his hand at the last second, not knowing if the paint was wet or dry. The image stole his breath. "It's beautiful," Kelly whispered. "Magnificent. Who is he?" "He's...it's complicated." Jace said, smiling, and something about that smile caused Kelly's fear to dissolve. "I'm glad you like it. I promise, yours will be just as beautiful." Kelly returned Jace's smile. "I believe you." *** "Look, Dekin," Kelly said, dragging his hair back over his scalp between nervously twitching fingers. "You're the one who invited him here. You're the one who expended a great deal of energy shoving us together for the sake of 'art'. So now you're getting your panties in a knot because I'm being nice to him? Isn't that what you wanted?" Kelly huffed and sank back into his pillow. "I'm not real good with mixed signals. Help me out here." "You spend nearly every waking moment with him, Kelly." Dekin's arms crossed defensively over his chest. "I don't want you to be hurt when he finishes and leaves. He can be very...addictive."

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"That's my point!" Kelly rolled his eyes and he turned onto his side, facing away from Dekin. "You're the one who brought him here, knowing that! Now you're pissed off because I'm reacting accordingly? That's not fair, Dekin." "You are right. I guess I thought I would be better at controlling my jealousy," Dekin said. "Just promise you'll keep loving me, no matter what happens?" Kelly looked over his shoulder. "Have I ever given you reason to think otherwise? All those nights away from me, all those nameless men in the name of feeding? It's not fair of you to behave like this toward me." Dekin's arms slid around him, and Kelly felt Dekin's body spoon up tightly behind him. "No," Dekin said. "You have never faltered in your love for me, nor given me a moment of sorrow. I trust you, Kelly. I love you." Kelly arched his back and spooned himself firmly into Dekin. "I know," he said. "I love you, too." *** Kelly had finally given up. Sleep had eluded him, and the harder he'd tried the less successful he'd been. He'd thrown on a ragged pair of cut-off jeans and a T-shirt and then he'd slipped into the night in hopes that a walk would relax him. When he reached the back end of the property, he realized he wasn't alone. Jace was there, in the secluded hot spring at the farthest end of the Japanese garden, nearly shrouded by a copse of imported cherry blossom trees. As Kelly drew closer, he watched as Jace leaned his head back against the wall of the spring, eyes closed as if he was completely relaxed. Kelly stepped quietly off the path and into the trees, certain that he hadn't been noticed until a dry twig snapped underfoot. *** Jace sat up, scanning the night, which to his supernatural eyes was only slightly less bright than the day. "Dekin, is that you? Come join me, friend." "Dekin's in bed," came Kelly's soft voice from the shadows. "I couldn't sleep." Jace smiled to himself. "Then you come join me, Kelly. Are you still nervous about tomorrow? Come, talk with me. Let me set you at ease." "I'm a little nervous, I guess." Kelly emerged from the trees and knelt at the edge of the bubbling spring. He sat back on his heels, hands dropping into his lap, thumbs absently twiddling. "But not about the painting." "About being nude in front of me?" Jace watched intently as Kelly tensed up. "Not even that, so much." Kelly shrugged. "It's Dekin. I'm concerned about him."

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"And why is that?" Kelly pulled his hair around to one side, twisting it nervously. "He's been acting strangely ever since you arrived. Twitchy and easily distracted. That's not like him. I'm usually the one bouncing off the walls while he's Mr. Calm." Kelly looked wide-eyed at Jace. "Do you have any idea why that might be?" It was becoming apparent to Jace that Dekin had not let Kelly in on his full reasoning behind the painting. He moved closer to Kelly, keeping his voice low and soft. "I've shaken his love cage, plain and simple. Dekin has never really loved before. He's spent all his life with sex as nothing more than a means to an end: survival. Then he fell desperately in love with you. That still frightens him, even after all these years." Jace shrugged slightly, running his hand over his bare chest. "I think once he sees you can be in the company of another man and still love him most of all, that he'll return to being your mellow, calm Dekin." Kelly nodded. "I do love him, Jace, more than anything. But it's been difficult for me. I don't think Dekin realizes just how difficult. Do you have any idea what a fine line I have to walk? I'm an angel, and it's so easy for us to fall. Being in love with a demon hasn't made avoiding that risk any simpler. I have to work ten times as hard to be as good as any other angel to make up for that fact. That's part of the reason I'm so frail. It's not only because of the sex with him draining my life force." Sighing, Kelly's fingers remained nervously fondling that thick, scarlet fall of hair. "That's why Dekin and I can't...can't be together as often as we'd like. I drain faster than most because what I do expends my reserves, too. And since I have to work so much more to balance out that I've chosen to love a demon..." Kelly's voice trailed off and his eyes glistened wetly. "I can be an angel, or I can be Dekin's lover. One or the other isn't a problem, but doing both is nearly impossible. It's killing me, Jace." Now Jace understood. He had wondered why Dekin had asked him to do this portrait. Angels were naturally strong, long-lived creatures, so it seemed almost silly at the price Dekin was paying. Feeling something as close to pity as Jace was capable of, he cupped the angel's face in his hands as the first tear gathered and fell. "I give you my word. When your portrait is completed, things between you and Dekin will improve." Kelly sniffled and he swiped at his cheeks with the back of one hand. "This painting is really important to him?" Jace nodded. "You have no idea."

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Chapter 7

"What do you have in mind?" Jace circled, catching Kelly's hair with his fingertips. "On the balcony among the flowers, wearing nothing but your wings." Kelly jerked his head away, removing his hair from Jace's grasp. Even after a decade, just the thought of having his hair sexually fondled brought back hideous memories of the carnival groomer. "Didn't I see this scene in Titanic?" Jace chuckled darkly. "Then you won't be surprised when your sweaty little palm prints are left all over the sliding glass door." Jace's hand skimmed under Kelly's shirt and over his belly. Kelly swatted Jace's hand. "Do you always begin portrait sittings by feeling up your subjects?" "I was simply helping you out of your clothes." Jace's smile was a mockery of innocence as his groin pressed firmly into Kelly's hip. "Why, that's very gentlemanly of you," Kelly said, smirking. "But it won't be necessary." He shrugged out of his shirt and let it fall to the floor. Turning slowly, he faced the glass doors that led to the balcony, his back to Jace. He shimmied out of the silk lounging pants he wore, watching the powder blue material join the matching shirt on the floor. Nude, Kelly peered demurely over one shoulder. Jace stared, and Kelly couldn't help but smile when Jace plucked at the front of his jeans. "I'm glad to see you got over your shyness with me," Jace said, stepping over the clothing. One of Jace's arms wrapped around Kelly, and he felt Jace's nose press into his hair, followed by warm breath on his neck. "Mmm, that's good." Kelly had done a great deal of thinking, perhaps too much. Jace's words at the hot spring had swayed him. Dekin probably wouldn't be convinced of the depth of his love until Kelly had tasted other fruit and returned, paralleling Dekin's own course of the past decade. And Kelly had to admit that if he were to have a physical tryst, Jace certainly wasn't the worst choice. There was no denying that Kelly found him attractive. He reached back and ran the palm of one hand lightly over the growing bulge in Jace's jeans, pausing to swirl his thumb around the vividly protruding outline of the head of Jace's cock. "If you'd like to see the wings," Kelly said, "we'd better step outside. I wouldn't want to damage anything." *** Jace felt the corner of his lip twitch as Kelly caressed him. Their talk the night before seemed to

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have given Kelly a more open attitude. He grabbed a basket containing his supplies. "All right. Out." Jace gave Kelly's bare rump a sharp smack; Kelly yelped and quickly stepped out onto the balcony. As Jace walked behind Kelly, he traced his fingers along the sharp ridges that ran along Kelly's shoulder blades. Jace felt his pulse quicken as he leaned in close to run his tongue over the raised, white flesh. Kelly's head dropped back, a soft moan escaping his lips. He sucked in a deep, exaggerated breath, and as he did so his ribcage expanded. The scars on both shoulder blades began to separate. Jace found himself incredibly aroused by the transformation. He set his basket of art supplies on a small garden table. He moved Kelly toward the railing, and as Kelly's wings emerged, Jace began to fondle them. "You have complete control over this?" Kelly's hands gripped the wrought-iron railing, and he leaned forward slightly. "Oh, yes," Kelly said, grinning at Jace over one shoulder. "They're stored away unless I want them out." With precise movements, Kelly's scarlet-feathered wings stretched out to their impressive twelve-foot span, raised high and proud. Jace fell silent; all he could do was stare. It was abundantly clear to him now why Dekin would want this creature, and he felt somewhat jealous. He moved up against Kelly's back, between his wings, and reached around to stroke Kelly's cock. "I have wings, too, but nothing like yours. Nothing so...fantastic." Kelly's hips moved, and his erection slid through Jace's firm grip. "I thought you were going to paint me?" "I will," Jace said, purring. "I have something a bit more fun for you first." He buried his face in soft feathers, and with one hand still stroking Kelly's cock the other cupped Kelly's ass. "Red hair, red wings. You need a bit of complimentary red tribal marking on your body." One of Jace's strokes wrung a short, sharp gasp out of Kelly before he peered over his shoulder again at Jace. "I'm not following." "Lean over the railing." Jace continued his petting, making sure Kelly was hard and needful before drawing away to fetch his nearby brush and paint. *** "This will wash off." Jace wet the brush bristles and then laid them against soft, pale skin near Kelly's ribs. He worked carefully, creating talismanic lines of red all along Kelly's left side. The brush tickled, especially as Jace dipped it down lower, close to Kelly's inner thigh. Kelly giggled, squirming. "This is very unexpected, I must admit."

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Jace's lips curled. "I'm sure it is. You thought I might force you, didn't you?" He knelt in front of Kelly, painting intricate symbols around Kelly's erection, taking time to flick his tongue against the head of it whenever Kelly stopped squirming. "I--" Kelly's eyes rolled back in his head, his stiff cock flexing under Jace's tongue. "I expected a bit more aggression." Eyes narrowing slightly, Jace worked on Kelly's other flank, intent on finishing quickly. "There are ways other than brute force to get what I want. Not that I'm above that when necessary. Tell me, Kelly...what does your lover look like in his true demon form?" Kelly's blue eyes narrowed right back. "Why would you want to know that?" "Incubi, as a rule, are pretty in all their forms. He has fucked you in his natural state, hasn't he?" Jace finished painting the runes on Kelly's body. He rose to his feet, pushing his mouth hard against Kelly's in a claiming, demanding kiss. Kelly abruptly pulled away. "He has, but again I ask: why?" "Because his kind and mine are quite different. I'm merely curious." Jace grabbed Kelly's wrist and pulled him in close. He whispered something under his breath; warmth began to exude from the archaic designs painted on Kelly's skin. "Easy now, little angel. Your body should be much more willing now, even if your mind is not." *** The last of the brush strokes were nearly dry and Kelly could feel it. A burning itch. An irrepressible urge. An unreasonable desire to be touched and taken, and not by just anyone. By him, this demon cooing softly to him now. He felt his cock stiffen. Heat rose to his face, his cheeks burning. "You bastard! You tricked me!" Jace bowed, blue eyes flaring silver as he locked them on Kelly. "I needed you more submissive for when you see my true form, little angel. It can be quite terrifying for some." He stalked closer, cocked his head and smiled as he gaze dropped to Kelly's erection. "That looks quite painful, little peacock." Kelly felt something warm drip down the inside of his thighs. He cast his eyes downward, mortified to find it was his own precome leaking copiously from his cock. Kelly looked back up at his tormentor. "What do you want from me?" His cock twitched involuntarily; his nipples hardened and ached. Kelly drew in his wings, then snapped them out again. Jace's palms went to Kelly's chest, thumbs rubbing light circles around each nipple before he took one into his mouth. He suckled a moment, nipped it, popping it from his lips. "I want to fuck you into the railing, I want you to love every minute of it, and I want you to remember me." Kelly swallowed hard, consumed partly by rage, partly by lust, neither completely within his control. He lowered one hand to his cock, stroked hard, but it didn't help to quell his physical need. "Then fuck me, you godforsaken freak!" His wings ruffled, rippling outward, the strong

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muscles in them apparent. "Sad, pathetic little creature. I'd have let you do it anyway, no spells necessary! I pity your lack of self-confidence." "And I pity your tight little ass," Jace countered, grabbing Kelly's hand away from his crotch and holding it tight. Jace backed Kelly against the railing, pressed one thigh between Kelly's legs, and pushed upward. "I know you would have. But you don't understand, little angel; your kind never does. It isn't about the sex. Sex is nice, it's hot, but it's the power I can wield over you that really gets me off." Jace's fingers moved over Kelly's hips. "Watching you beg for it, but seeing the fear in your eyes...that is what's going to make me come all over myself." Kelly shuddered. Even the light press of Jace's fingers on his hips was maddening. "Come on then, demon, do it! I'll beg you for it, but if you're looking for fear you've chosen your victim poorly." Kelly sneered, then spat in the demon's face. Jace wiped the spit away. He moved suddenly, backhanding Kelly across one cheek, and then Jace used the momentum to sweep Kelly's feet out from under him. "You just don't know when to stop! I should have put the fucking symbols around your mouth." Cracking his knuckles, Jace took a deep breath in and blew it sharply out. The serene, morning silence of the garden was broken when Jace howled with the first audible crack of bone. With a palm pressed to his rapidly swelling cheekbone, Kelly took a cautious step back. He kept his eyes riveted on Jace. Momentarily perplexed, Kelly came to realize that Jace was transforming into his true state. He cocked his head to one side and furrowed his brow as he watched. It had never occurred to him that the metamorphosis would be so painful for the demon. The sound of bone crunching made his stomach churn, and he cringed, closing his eyes as a spray of sulfur-rich blood hit him dead in the face. Jace's haunches lengthened and twisted until his human form was replaced entirely by a mottledgray, wolfish-headed monster. A long, pink tongue ran the length of the demon's foot-long muzzle, sharp teeth glistening. "Now, little angel, do you see how different I am from Dekin? Not as pretty or as safe, am I?" Talons scraped the ground as Jace stepped closer, tail menacingly swishing back and forth. Kelly stood his ground, wings beating barely enough to stir a breeze. "Is that what this is about, Jace? Your petty jealousy over someone whom you perceive as prettier than yourself?" Kelly made a disappointed tsking sound, his head shaking sadly. "Perhaps I'm simply not as shallow as you." Kelly took a step closer to Jace. "Your natural form could be the most beautiful, aesthetically pleasing thing the world has ever seen, and you know what?" Kelly narrowed his eyes. "You would still be hideous." Jace's clawed hand shot out and gripped the base of one scarlet wing, twisting it so hard that Kelly was forced to double over. "Shut up, angel." Jace growled, and then Jace shoved his snout between Kelly's legs, wet tongue lapping against his hole. Hot breath puffed against him, Jace moaning, nipping at Kelly's ass. Opposite Ends of the Spectrum - 41

"What is this about? You're an angel, Kelly. Surely you know that demons don't do anything for free. Dekin wants his precious painting to preserve you, and he knows only I can give him the quality he seeks. He also knows of my hunger for dirtying up pretty little angels like you. It was a perfect trade, actually. Two hours alone with you to do as I please in exchange for my special ability." Kelly's vision went white from the intense pain in his wing. His legs trembled, knees giving way. Adrenaline surged through his body. "You're lying!" he whispered, seething. "I don't believe you! Dekin would never--" "He would and he did! It serves him another purpose, too. He gets to see if you'll still love him and come back to him after being fucked by another." Kelly felt Jace's sharp talons drag down the backs of his thighs hard enough to break the skin. He looked behind him and saw Jace's leathery, gray wings, one smaller than the other, beating slowly as he worked more and more of his lengthy tongue up inside Kelly, shooting it in and out against sensitive walls. Jace's hand came around, hunting for Kelly's cock, and Jace cackled. Kelly's cock was painfully erect. "Looks like my little incantation is working nicely," Jace said. "Or do you truly like the idea of someone fucking you like a whore? I'm sure Dekin is sweet and gentle with his lovemaking. Maybe a little bit of rough excitement will do you good." "Since you've bewitched me, does it really matter what I think or feel? I've been sold to you, and now my body is at your mercy." Kelly winced, pain flaring in his shoulder, a needy ache surging through his cock. "Isn't that enough?" "Tsk. So bitter." Jace groaned, and Kelly felt the rimming stop as Jace rose up on his hind legs. With Jace at a towering seven feet tall, Kelly was grabbed easily by the scruff of the neck, and his legs were swept apart with a forceful kick. "I suppose it really doesn't matter so long as you come for me, and despite your holier-than-thou bullshit I know you'll be screaming for it in the end." Jace pressed behind Kelly, and the wet tip of Jace's cock rubbed along Kelly's ass. Jace's weight shifted; Kelly felt the push against his hole. "If you sacrifice yourself for him willingly, Kelly, I might be easier on you." Kelly shivered. He felt blood run down the backs of his legs from the scratches, his wing viciously throbbed, and the stretch from Jace's cock in his ass combined to send a searing jolt through his core. He rose up on his toes and with a sharp, inward hiss of breath Kelly tried to calm his hammering pulse. "Then make me scream, Jace, if that's what you both want, while I'm in no condition to resist." "Poor little angel," cooed Jace. Several strands of Kelly's hair were caught in Jace's tight grip, and Jace's hips snapped forward. Prepared only by the tonguing, tense with fear, Kelly knew he was painfully tight; Jace's first thrust slipped off target. Claws clasped around Kelly's hips and drove him into the unforgiving balcony rail as Jace worked hard at getting that cock up inside. There was nothing smooth or graceful about Jace's entry. No single burying thrust. Inch by slow inch Jace bucked, pumped, ground, and thrust into Kelly's body. Victory came at last, and Jace's

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weight rested over Kelly, both of them panting, joined. Kelly felt Jace's cock swell inside him, filling him. He moaned, part mournful pain, part unbridled lust. He couldn't help himself. The spell Jace had cast was strong, and Kelly was powerless over his own body's reactions. He rocked back to take Jace deeper, and wet, slick heat dribbled down his leg. Kelly was achingly hard, his cock leaking profusely. A small, whimpering moan escaped him despite himself. "Good boy," whispered Jace against Kelly's ear, and Kelly's walls constricted sharply around Jace with a needful spasm. Fingers caressed Kelly's feathers, and Kelly realized that Jace was aware that the place close to where wing met body was highly erogenous. Jace had zeroed in on that area, fingering lightly. "Moan for me, Kelly," Jace said, his hips rolling. "I want you to tell me when you're about to come, understand?" Drool trickled onto Kelly's skin as Jace licked the back of his neck, accompanied by the sharp scrape of elongated fangs. Kelly had never felt so filthy, so tainted and soiled in all his life, and there was nothing he could do to stop this. His senses overloading, he tried to keep in the forefront of his thoughts that he was doing this for Dekin. Payment for the painting that Dekin was suddenly so obsessed with. Proof that he would always be Dekin's, no matter what, absolution for Dekin's guilt for needing to take so many lovers. None of this was for Kelly, and despite his body's obvious response there was no joy in it for him. Kelly tossed his hair, arched his back, and tried to convincingly moan for the demon. "Close," Kelly said, panting. "So close..." Kelly didn't think Jace was convinced, not until Jace's hips canted and found that place inside. When it happened, Kelly jumped and gasped, and he felt Jace nudge against the small gland, moving only enough to give a new burst of pleasure whenever the one before began to fade. A knowing hand wrapped around Kelly's cock, still and patiently waiting for that first telltale pulse that Kelly knew was imminent. "Come for me, little angel," Jace purred into his ear. "Come for Dekin." "Oh God, Jace." Kelly moaned, the sound raw and brutally honest this time, "God, that's so good! Don't stop, please don't stop..." Kelly bucked his hips, and when Jace hit his sweet spot again Kelly couldn't hold back. He felt his cock swell and thicken, becoming even more rigid in Jace's hand. "Jace, I'm--" Kelly was pulled away from the railing, one of Jace's strong arms around his waist to keep him impaled, Jace's other hand still on Kelly's cock, pinching the base as if to stave off the inevitable flow. He was roughly flipped around, and then shoved to his knees in front of the colorful spectrum of pigments arranged on the artist's palette. Gradually, the pressure holding Kelly back turned to stroking, and Jace began an easy thrust and howled his own horrible scream of lust. Muscles coiled low and tight in his belly sprung and Kelly came, loud and hard, messily spattering the paints. Kelly grabbed back at Jace's hips, fingers scrabbling at tough flesh to pull Opposite Ends of the Spectrum - 43

Jace closer and toward his own climax. "It's good, Jace," Kelly whimpered. "So good." Jace's snout was pressed into Kelly's hair, and Kelly could hear Jace's tail whipping about wildly as Jace rut a final, lustful surge into him without restraint. It was over fast. Jace's hips locked, his cock pressed up hard into that delicious spot again as his hot, sticky load shot deep inside Kelly. Still joined together, they crumpled to the ground.

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Chapter 8

Dekin returned home around noon. He'd known what might happen with Kelly, and though he'd agreed to it, he knew it would be best if he couldn't hear it. He took the stairs cautiously, listening for any sign that Jace hadn't finished. With nothing but silence to greet him, he passed the makeshift studio and found Jace hard at work over the canvas. It was obvious that the worst was over. Jace seemed not to notice him, or had chosen not to acknowledge him, and Dekin quietly moved down the hall toward his and Kelly's bedroom. *** Hands lightly gripping the balcony railing, Kelly looked out over the sunlit garden. His skin was flushed red from a long, hot shower, scrubbed raw in a few places. He couldn't get himself clean enough, and no amount of washing had helped to purge what he was feeling inside. Soft, familiar footsteps came closer. Kelly stepped away from the wrought-iron railing and he swaddled himself inside the warm bulk of his old, terry-cloth robe. Just as Kelly turned around, he saw Dekin bite down sharply on his lower lip and wince. Kelly knew instantly that Dekin had noticed the bruise on his cheek, and though he tried hard to conceal his feelings, he knew his eyes most likely betrayed him. "Kelly, I'm sorry," said Dekin. "I know this all must seem terrible to you." Kelly grabbed the lapels of the robe and pulled the collar tight around his neck. He was covered up from neck to foot, not wanting Dekin to see him like this. The deep scratches down the backs of his legs. The bruises all over. The wing he couldn't properly stow due to the swelling at its base. His scraped up knees from where Jace had shoved him to the balcony floor. The bite marks. So many bite marks. The pain in his eyes, obviously, wasn't so easily concealed. Kelly lowered his gaze to the ground. "I don't even know what to say, Dekin." "I know. I made him promise me not to hurt you." Dekin's fingers ran through his hair, his body dropping back hard against the bedroom wall. "I know you don't understand. I couldn't tell you the reason behind the painting. Forewarning supposedly taints the spell." Pushing away from the wall, Dekin came closer to Kelly. With calming touches and soft kisses to his hair, Kelly's battered body was gathered in Dekin's gentle embrace. Kelly folded his arms tightly across his chest. "Well," he said with a scoffing chuckle, "I would hate to have seen what might have happened if he hadn't promised not to hurt me. Though I suppose 'hurt' is a relative term when you're dealing with his kind. I suppose I should consider myself fortunate." Kelly stepped back, his gaze still glued to the ground. He couldn't bring himself to look his lover in the eyes. "He bewitched me, Dekin. He violated me, and you had no right to offer me up like that. I hope that whatever value that painting holds for you is worth it."

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"The portrait is not merely a painting, Kelly. You know that every demon has power over something, just as every angel does? Jace's talent is that he can paint the very life force of a being into his work. The spell runes and the sex are how he gathers the life essence from his subject. It is mixed into the paint. So long as the portrait comes to no harm, its subject will be free from disease or bodily injury." Dekin's eyes lowered. "Too many times I've nearly lost control. Too many times my lovemaking has brought you to the brink of eternal darkness. Kelly, eventually I will hurt you beyond an angelic ability of self-repair. I know that the others of your kind have turned their backs on you because of me. You can't heal yourself to that degree, and they will not come to save you if you fade because I am your lover. This painting ensures that some small bit of your life force is forever safe. You are safe." Kelly sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you trying to say that you did this for me? Because I don't see it that way. From my vantage point, you whored me out to pay for magic that will enable you to be less careful, and will assure that you will never have to be alone." His shaky fingers dragged damp hair back, and Kelly sighed heavily. He lifted his eyes to Dekin. "Did it ever occur to you that our lovemaking is so wonderful, so beautiful, and so special to me because you have to be so careful? You being so mindful of the fact that you could hurt me is the most precious, unselfish thing that anyone has ever done for me. The very act of your self-restraint demonstrates to me, in a very tangible way, how very much you love me. Oh, Dekin..." *** Dekin felt horror wash across his features as the vision of what he'd done changed from something valiant to vile. He dropped to his knees. "I've destroyed everything, haven't I? I only wanted to keep you safe, Kelly. I see how tired you are, day after day. It terrifies me to know that I am the one doing that to you." Kelly knelt in front of Dekin. "You haven't destroyed anything, Dekin. We were doomed from the start. A demon and an angel…those who knew us gave us six months at the outside, and yet here we are ten years later. I don't like the fact that you must take other lovers, Dekin. I never have. The one time I accidentally bore witness to it, I thought I'd rather die than to even think of you touching someone else. I try very hard not to dwell on it, and I hate that I can't be stronger for you so you wouldn't have to depend on...on strangers to satisfy your hunger. It's just the way I'm constructed." Kelly's head bowed down, his tear-streaked face disappearing from Dekin's view behind the veil of his vivid hair. "If...if I was human, I wouldn't be so fragile and weak." "What? What do you mean?" Dekin shook his head, clutching his hands together. "No. No, don't you even think about giving in to that. Kelly, I won't let you condemn yourself." "Then you propose to me some viable alternative." Kelly's face emerged from behind his hair, and he sank back on his heels. "You tell me what choice we have, Dekin. I'm listening." But there was none. Either Dekin would have to take more outside lovers to allow Kelly more time to heal, or he'd starve himself and then probably hurt Kelly even more once he did feed. They'd lived with the only balance that worked for eight of their ten years together, and even that wasn't good enough. Dekin bowed his head. "I don't want you to throw your immortality away for me."

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A warm, wet kiss touched Dekin's cheek. He looked up. Kelly was gone. *** When Kelly found Jace Barton he was still in the studio, back in his human form. Jace had two artist's brushes sticking out of his mouth as he manipulated a third across the canvas. He was applying the finishing touches, tackling the details of Kelly's hair against already painted wings with precise strokes of his brush. Jace was so lost in his work that Kelly was nearly upon him before Jace's head snapped up. One of the brushes held between Jace's lips fell to the tile, leaving a long streak of red. "Shit," Jace muttered, snatching up the brush. He put it and his other supplies aside. "Sorry. I'll wipe the tiles clean before I leave." His eyes went to Kelly, and his fingers rubbed the back of his neck. "This isn't going to be good, is it?" Kelly froze in front of the easel, cocking his head to one side, curious. "Is that what I look like to you?" The painted image of himself that Kelly saw was one of innocence -- a far cry from what had actually transpired on the balcony. A demure angel swathed in nothing but hair of scarlet, on bended knees with his head resting on one arm against the wrought-iron railing. Roses surrounded him as he gazed out, waiting longingly for his lover's return. "Yes." "Then," Kelly said, voice hitching over the lump in his throat, "I owe you an apology." And like the image, Kelly got down on bended knee. He looked up at Jace. "I have a tremendous favor to ask of you." The back of Jace's knuckles brushed along Kelly's cheek, and Kelly flinched just slightly when the bruise there was touched. "What do you need?" Kelly shrugged his shoulders tightly, and he fought back the sting in his eyes. "I, ah...I need to be rid of these." He glanced over his shoulder at his wings. "I thought maybe you wouldn't mind so much helping me out." "Why would you want to do that?" Jace looked toward the doorway as if he was half expecting to see Dekin standing there scowling. "I'm not sure how close you are with Dekin," Kelly said. "He's always suffered a lot of guilt because of me. Even though we both know it's by necessity, him taking other lovers because I'm not strong enough to keep up is a terrible burden for him. I won't be so weak and useless to him if I allow myself to become human." Kelly looked up solemnly at Jace. "I need you to help me fall."

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"Hmm." Jace's teeth gnawed at his lower lip, his eyes giving Kelly a long once-over. "Dekin is flawed as a demon, in my humble opinion. I guess that's probably why the two of you have lasted as long as you have. Noble notion, I suppose, you sacrificing everything for him." Jace's gaze shifted toward the painting as his fingers reached out to trail through Kelly's feathers. "You need to be absolutely sure of your choice, little angel. There's no turning back." Kelly cautiously nodded, licking dry lips. "I've thought of little else for the past few years, and recent events have brought it all to a head. It's not right to let him continue to suffer when I have the power to do something about it." He took a deep breath that shuddered through his chest. "I'm sure. Will you help me?" Jace moved in close, his arms wrapping around Kelly, lips pressing against Kelly's cheek with a patently sympathetic kiss. "Pity. Humans are so mundane, and you were so beautiful." Silver flashed across navy blue eyes. Pit viper quick, fingers that had been caressing suddenly snapped around the root stem of each wing. For a fraction of a second everything was silent; then came the ear-splitting sound of bone splintering under pressure, a terrible crack. Kelly saw blood spatter Jace's face and the terracotta tiles around them as pain seared through him and he heard both wings hit the ground. Jace's arms coiled around him as he collapsed and felt himself going into shock. Eyes wide with horror, Kelly stared up at Jace's bloodied face. The pain was unfathomable, intense, and he hadn't expected there to be so much blood. "Thank you," he managed to whisper. "Ssh. Rest now." Jace's strong arms caught Kelly as his knees gave way. The blood loss had already slowed, Kelly could feel it, but he knew it would take some time for his body to catch up with the trauma it had just endured. He felt suddenly lightheaded and he gave Jace a small, weak smile as everything faded to black. *** Jace had seen angels fall before; it was never fast or easy. Hoisting the limp body into his arms, Jace was surprised at just how light Kelly was with his muscular wings now gone. No burden at all. "Let's find your lover, Kelly." He glanced at the portrait as he carried Kelly from the room. The subject -- previously posed kneeling with his glorious wings extended -- was now crumpled lifelessly on the balcony floor, his wings detached and broken. The freshest of the scarlet paint ran, dripping off the bottom of the canvas. Jace smiled.

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Chapter 9

Dekin knew something was wrong. He had been in his office calculating finances for his multiple ventures when he'd felt it. Like the change in pressure just before a storm, the air had thickened to the point where he could barely find breath. He left his office and immediately found Jace walking toward him from down the hall, Kelly in his arms, blood staining the carpet. The hallway seemed endlessly long. "No," Dekin whispered, increasing his pace. He crashed into Jace. "No...no. Jace, tell me you didn't! Damn you, you bastard! What have you done?" Dumping Kelly's body into Dekin's arms, Jace stepped back. "I've done exactly what both you and he have asked of me. Don't put me in the middle of your little family drama." "Jace!" Jace's hand flew so fast Dekin didn't know what had hit him at first. "Shut up, Dekin, and listen to me. Take your little fallen angel to bed. Care for him. Love him. He's proven his love for you beyond measure today. Remember that and treasure it. Most of us demons will never know what that feels like. Hell, most humans don't." Jace's hand drew back. "Everything will be fine. I've done my job." The sting on Dekin's cheek seemed small compared to the pain in his heart as he looked down at Kelly's bleeding, unconscious form. "I want you out of my house, Jace Barton." Jace lifted his chin and arched one brow, but he nodded. "Go take care of your boy, Dekin. I know my way out." *** Kelly woke up gradually, feeling groggy. His head pounded. His vision was blurred. Disoriented, it took a moment for him to realize he was in bed and for him to recall how he'd gotten there. His voice sounded dry and croaky when he spoke. "Dekin?" Dekin's head lifted. "I'm here, Kelly." He approached the bed from the chair across the room with visible caution, and then fell to his knees beside it. A glass of water was on the nightstand, and Dekin offered it to Kelly. "Move slowly. The bleeding has stopped, but you could re-open your wounds." Kelly took the glass, and after a few small sips handed it back to Dekin. "Are you angry with me?" "Angry?" A look of deep sorrow swept over Dekin's features. "Kelly, oh God, no. I'm not angry with you." Dekin sighed, and his chin dropped to his chest. "My anger rests entirely with myself. I have failed you. On so many levels, I have failed you."

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Kelly pulled himself up painfully onto his elbows, wincing. He shook his head vehemently. "Dekin, you haven't failed me. I should have done this a long time ago. If anything, I've failed you. I'll be stronger now, much stronger. You won't have to feel guilty because you won't have to take other lovers, and I won't feel so inadequate. I'm only sorry I waited so long. I was so afraid that...well, that you wouldn't love me the same if I were no longer an angel." "Kelly, it wasn't your wings I fell in love with," Dekin whispered, his forehead coming to rest against Kelly's. "I fell in love with the bravery you showed that first morning we were thrown together at the carnival. I love the way you trusted me enough to have the keys first when we escaped -- the meaning of that wasn't lost on me. I love that you have enough faith in us to allow me to feed on others, even though it pains you." Dekin's lips gingerly kissed Kelly's cheek. "I think I love your warm laughter most of all, and I pray that I'll hear it again." *** Jace finished tucking his paints away and washed out his brushes. After his confrontation with Dekin, he'd returned to the room with the balcony and immediately started packing his things. This hadn't been the first time that his methods on a commissioned job had caused discord with a client. Jace knew from experience that most of them were never adequately prepared to deal with the possible ramifications that sometimes resulted from his paintings. The completed portrait rested in shadow, and Jace could see the form on the canvas had once again changed. Kelly's pitiful, wingless form was no longer crumpled in a heap. It had drawn itself up onto all fours, back arched as if in either ecstasy or pain. Jace covered the painting. He was content. He'd done his job. Jace Barton always kept his end of a bargain. *** Jace drummed his thumbs lightly against the steering wheel and sang along with Aerosmith's Dude Looks Like a Lady as he waited for the red light to change. The altercation with Dekin mostly pushed aside, he'd stopped off at a roadside bar for a beer to wait for the sun to go down. Gennady Zaitsev had probably been awake long before twilight, but it was considered quite rude to make assumptions about a vampire, even one you knew so well. Jace had learned that lesson the hard way. Fumbling through his overburdened glove compartment, Jace found his cell phone and hit the speed dial. The call was answered on the second ring. "Hello?" The voice was soft, youthful, and comfortingly familiar. "Hey, it's me." Jace shoved his car into gear as the light changed. He looked to his right. A painting, carefully wrapped in soft silks for protection, rested on the passenger seat. "I have a certain werefox painting sitting beside me. I thought if you were going to be home tonight, I'd drop it off on my way back to Tailz." Jace heard the soft hitch of breath on the other end of the line and he smiled.

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"Yes. If you can come now, that would be perfect. Fallon went out with your brother, so this is

the perfect time to deliver it. I'll be able to surprise him with it later."

"Fallon and Konnor? That's a dangerous pair." Jace made an amused-sounding snort. "I'd better

hurry. If I know Konnor they won't be out long."

"Your brother is very responsible, Jace. You should try it sometime."

Jace grunted through a grin and gave the Camaro more gas. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

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Chapter 10

Dekin didn't sleep. He curled around Kelly protectively, fingers constantly moving over his lover's soft skin. Twice Kelly had awakened during the night, screaming. Twice Dekin had whispered soft, soothing things, had held Kelly close and coaxed him back into slumber. He'd heard Jace leave, the growl of the '67 Camaro SS unmistakable as it sat throttling under the bedroom window before it roared off into the night. *** "I'll be right back," Kelly whispered. Before Dekin could protest, Kelly slung his legs over the side of the bed. He held onto the bedpost as he stood, half expecting his legs to feel like jelly beneath him. They didn't. In fact, he felt surprisingly strong and energetic. He smiled back at Dekin, then quickly disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door. He flipped on the lights. Kelly stood with his back to the bathroom mirror, peering over one shoulder. The ridges on his back didn't look any different than they had before he'd chosen to fall. He'd never known another fallen angel, and it wasn't something that those who were in good stead spoke about openly. All he knew was that it could be done by turning evil or by making a conscious choice to become human and then severing one's wings. Everything else he knew was either rumor or mere speculation. One angel had told him that falling would drastically change an angel's appearance. The angel would no longer be the epitome of androgynous beauty; they would be ordinary. Not unattractive, necessarily, but ordinary. He'd said that clean, neat scars or ridges would no longer demarcate the fallen angel's wing vaults; the vaults would become monstrously deformed flesh. Neither of those things had happened to Kelly. He turned slowly, examining himself critically in the mirror. He saw the same pretty face, the same gorgeous curtain of scarlet hair, the same lithe body with flat planes and gentle curves in all the right places. The marks on his back were the same, neatly symmetrical twin ridges that they had always been. He stared at his reflection and pondered, finally startled out of his contemplative reverie when a soft tap came at the door. "Kelly? Are you alright?" Dekin's muffled voice sounded full of concern. Kelly grabbed his bathrobe from a hook on the wall and slipped into it. He opened the door. "I'm okay. Just a little confused." Dekin regarded Kelly with a sympathetic look on his face. "I suppose that is to be expected." His fingers brushed lovingly down Kelly's cheek. "That will fade in time, sweetling. Why don't you go downstairs and start some coffee while I fix the bed? I'll be down in a moment."

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Kelly smiled. "Don't be long, okay?" With a quick peck to Dekin's cheek, Kelly headed down to the kitchen. *** Dekin watched as his lover disappeared around the bend of the stairs, and he felt an easy calm. Kelly seemed to be taking the change in stride, far better than Dekin had worried he might. Maybe things would be all right after all. Lost in that thought, Dekin stripped their bed. There were bloodstains on the bedclothes on the side where Kelly had slept. As Dekin tugged a corner of the sheet loose, he noticed that one of the small red blotches wasn't blood at all. Curious, Dekin picked up the small, ruby-colored pinfeather. He sighed, figuring it must have been there from before. Smiling and feeling wistful, he took a favorite book from the shelf and very gingerly placed the feather between two pages for safekeeping. The scent of bacon crept up the staircase, and when the task of laying clean bedding was complete, Dekin went downstairs and joined Kelly in the kitchen. He snaked his arms around Kelly's narrow waist as he hovered over the stove. "I love you." Kelly turned off the burner, setting the pan of bacon aside. "I know you do, Dekin. I love you, too. I'd be furious with me if I were you. I had no right to do this without your consent. It was impulsive and stupid, and for all I know it'll change everything between us. You fell in love with an angel, not an ordinary mortal." He turned around and butted Dekin's shoulder with his forehead. "I am so, so sorry." Dekin smiled and shook his head. "I fell in love with your spirit, Kelly, and your heart. Not your wings. When we were held captive in that terrible place -- damn, that seems so long ago now -- it was your understanding and strength that provoked me to feel more than lust." His hands moved lovingly along Kelly's back, soothing over the places where feathered limbs had once been. "Wings are sexy, I admit that. The idea of you being an angel was incredibly hot for a demon such as myself. But that isn't why we've become so close and overcome so much." Dekin looked deeply into his lover's eyes. He frowned slightly. Kelly's eyes were still bottomless, luminous blue, and not the dull, glassed-over façades of a human. Dekin frowned, and his concerned expression was suddenly mirrored by Kelly. "What?" said Kelly. "You're looking at me funny." Dekin pushed his frown away and replaced it with a sincerely warm smile. "Nothing. I am sure it is nothing." Dekin placed a tender kiss on Kelly's lips, but as he drew back and saw that Kelly's worry remained, he added, "Your eyes. They are still angelic eyes, not those of a human. That is a good thing, but surprising." Kelly's eyes went wide. "Do you think...Dekin, the painting?"

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There was a long pause, both left staring at one another, before Dekin took Kelly's hand and raced with him to Jace's former studio. Close to frantic, Dekin spotted the covered portrait in the far corner of the room. His tongue scraped over dry lips. "Should I do it, or do you wish to?" "Go ahead," Kelly said, wringing his hands. Dekin gave a nod, then caught the sheet between his fingers and pulled. As the cloth fell away it was obvious that the painting had changed. Kelly's image now sat on his knees in the center of the canvas, surrounded by flowers. His head was bowed, martyr-like, and rising up from behind him were his splendid, scarlet wings. They were small yet whole, neither one damaged. Dekin stepped back, eyes wide, and he grabbed at Kelly excitedly. Kelly stood in silence, watching along with Dekin as the portrait subtly shifted before their eyes: the wings spouted feathers, delicate bone and strong muscles growing and expanding their width. Kelly moved away from Dekin, a broad smile on his face. His knuckles turned white as Kelly clenched his fists and his eyes closed. A deep inward breath expanded his ribcage beyond mortal dimensions. "He did it," Kelly said, his eyes sparkling. "He really did it!" Kelly's shoulders shrugged with a quick, sharp motion. The deafening whoosh when his wings abruptly unfurled and disturbed the air knocked over the easel. The painting tumbled to the floor. Hands covering his mouth, Dekin looked on as Kelly showcased his wings proudly. The flight feathers were the most obvious, growing out fast enough to be witnessed by the naked eye. Dekin started to cry. "I wasn't sure," he said, picking the painting up from where it had fallen. "I wasn't sure if he had completed it. He must have finished right before he left. Even after I spat insults into his face." Dekin placed the portrait carefully back on its perch, then went to Kelly and cupped his face. "I am so happy, but only because I think this is what makes you most happy. Wings or not, I will always be by your side." "Let's go back to bed," Kelly said. Dekin's hand was grabbed and he was tugged along joyfully. "I'll let you play with my hair." Kelly's eyebrows wiggled. Dekin smiled and followed. The End

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The StarCrossed Series continues…

StarCrossed 3: Objects in the Mirror (March 2009)

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