Chapter Six
I Got a Date with a Hot Girl
Kaleb
She said yes and now I have a date. Not with just any girl— the girl. The one I know will knock me on my ass until the day I put a ring on her finger, and then she’ll knock me down some more.
I whistle into the wind, my tuneless song fading in my wake as I wander away from her house. Leaving might have been the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but after hoisting her drug-fucked sister out of her Honda Civic—damn, that would be the first present I buy my girl, a new car—any thoughts of taking that kiss that rocked my cock earlier fucked right off.
Emma drooled a little Mana on me, and nothing could take that edge of pure, from the source, ForgetMeKnot, off. Not even a scalding shower followed by an icy one in their shared upstairs bathroom. The place stinks of Harken’s drug, and Addi. It’s like Mana personally marked up her private space, and I swear I’ll eradicate every damn inch of him from that house as soon as I get a key.
As in, the one she will give me maybe three sleepovers in once I kiss her senseless, make her breakfast, and show her what real love feels like. Not the key that fit her lock just fine that I made from her sister’s key ring a month prior. The place draws me to it, and I thought for a while it had something to do with the location… Now I know it’s who lives inside the Gothic mansion that calls to me.
And I can give Addi so much more than watching her from the shadows. Not that I’m the only one who watches her, but I’ll be the one to claim her, give her so much more than the shit show Mana exposed her to. That man—I know he isn’t human, but he pays fine and I give my loyalty to my employers—brings toxic to another level in so many ways. Fuck, his blood has half the damn town high most weekends.
I have no intention of letting him any closer to Addi than necessary. Her sister … well, I’m not beyond giving up a little sacrifice for the cause. And her twin doesn’t seem impressed to have to drag her out of Harken yet again.
My footsteps never falter as I turn toward Mana’s doorstep, already planning the strategy I need to take. What I don’t count on is the extra set of footsteps that fall in line at my side.
“Would you like to tell him, or shall I?” a deceptively soft voice purrs. Bowen Kathros. Mana’s keeper, and kept pet.
The tall angel keeps pace with me easily. Heat rockets off the man who waltzes around in a white wifebeater, squiggly marks he manages to pass off as ink adorning every inch of his marred skin. Pale gray hair drapes artistically over his equally pale face, all angles and harsh lines that if you look at just right doesn’t look so perfect after all.
But only if you catch the angel off guard.
“I’ll fight my own battles, thanks.” I learned long ago to watch the bargains I make around immortals who play at being men, like those who made them never threw them out of their realms for whatever reasons.
Since no one told me, I guess they were all really shit at their jobs to be forced into a human existence with each other for company.
“I can be your backup.”
“Ever the temptress.” I pause at the edge of Sinner’s End land, aiming for the shortcut back to Harken through the town, instead of around the people I know Bowen will want to avoid. “I wonder, do you bend over on Sundays as well, or would I be better to place my money with you on the corner?” I eye him with a shit-eating grin. “I’ll buy you a pretty skirt.”
Bowen looks sickened when he sees my intended route, and I know his greenage has nothing to do with my teasing. For all his pomp and presence, all his showy “look at me” bullshit, he’s an outright coward.
“I happen to look fabulous in drag,” he murmurs, wiggling his ass a little in the white leather pants he habitually wears.
I swear he and Mana, with his longer, dark hair, look like a nineties’ boy band duet. Not that I’d say so, because I happen to like my dick attached to my body.
“Of course you do.” I shake my head. “Was anything off limits wherever the hell you came from?”
The grin he throws my way and the heated glance that travels south dissolves my smile. “Not half as much as they make out down here. Gender norms aren’t as rigid.” He leans across me, swiping his fingers over my dick that hardens against my will. “Mmm, your desire for the pretty little fire flower at Sinner’s End does it for you, doesn’t she?”
I clench my teeth and keep walking. “I never said you could touch.”
Bowen withdraws his hand, disappointment flitting through his strangely colorless eyes that reflect the night in a pool of liquid diamond starlight. “Pity. We could have had some fun. I do love a good role-play.”
“Not gonna kink shame you, bro. But that’s my date, and I’ll take the real skin over…” I replay the once-over he gave me a moment before, “over something fake.”
Bowen’s nostrils flare at the insult I don’t bother to veil. “Have it your way. Mana is all yours. I’ll watch from above.” He darts away to … somewhere.
I don’t bother to look up. The heavy updraught that slides seductively along my body like a warm breath is unwelcome enough to leave me wishing I wore my leather jacket on a stiflingly hot night.
“And stay the fuck away,” I mutter for good measure.
So much for the facade of being human. I doubt he can hear me, but I curse anyway, letting my mouth run on as I consider which part of my soul Mana is likely to shred first, or if that’s beyond his reach until after my death. Seeing as it was my mouth that landed me in his employ in the first place, it seems apt.
My path through the town is fast, mostly as I know once daylight hits the structure Mana will be dead to the world and I’ll have to wait until the next evening before I can make good on my promise to Addi. That isn’t happening, because I want her body pressed to mine again too damn bad.
The way she kissed me back, her soft lips parting against the push of my tongue, how she wrapped her hands around my neck and pulled me closer … her ass in my hand—she is a one-hand grip for sure, both sides, and— fuckkkk.
If I don’t stop replaying the feel of her curves pressed to my body, I’ll never be in the right mindset to face Mana. That’s a fight I need to have full control of, because the bastard fights dirty. Real fucking dirty.
****
“He’s not here.” Lethe stands sentry outside his master’s office, his back as rigid as anyone’s I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something for a kid who was taught by nuns.
“Bullshit.” I raise a hand to knock but an arm made of pure metal, I swear, blocks my path. I raise both my eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
Lethe looks me full in the face. “No one enters, and he’s not here.”
“You’re a real broken record, aren’t you?” I snap, letting my irritation eke out on the man in the black leather pants and no shirt. Starry patterns decorate his torso and I narrow my eyes as I study him, until it finally clicks. “Like Bowen,” I murmur softly.
“Who?” Lethe frowns at me.
“Nothing.” I incline my head, but not in a show of obedience.
Something is off about this man apart from his rigid stance. He might have just started working for Mana, but the way he stands like a toy soldier waiting to be wound, it’s like he can’t function without commands. Like he doesn’t know who he is. Or what.
“That’s fair.” Lethe looks straight past me down the hall.
I blink at the revelation. “Have you tried the merchandise?” I raise both eyebrows and give them a waggle. “The drugs,” I add more softly when he remains silent.
Lethe still stares over my head. Looking for … absolution? A sign? Fuck knows.
“Okay. Well, I’ll be off finding the boss. Unless you’ve got any ideas where I can start?” I pivot on my heel, keen to get the fuck away from the silent sentinel who gives off no vibes whatsoever. Like he’s a void. An abyss where energy falls endlessly, never to emerge.
The faster I’m out of this place, the better.
“Try the bell tower. He seemed to like its height.” The soft voice at my back surprises me, but not in the way Lethe might expect.
No, you poor pure, untouched thing. It’s because of the souls who dived from the top. He can hear their fatal cries there best. But I don’t say that, and he doesn’t talk again, or breathe or anything else I can tell as my steps quicken in the direction of the belfry.
Because like a twisted Gothic gargoyle, I know Mana will be at the very top, staring out at what he can’t have, listening to the music of the suffering shades plummeting and twisting below in their endless torment. A symphony made for a devil.
But I can.
Which makes this next interaction dangerous as fuck. Because not only does my boss—soon-to-be ex-boss—play dirty, he’s a damn sore loser too. And he loses about as often as I lie.
Never.
Not because I choose not to, I literally can’t make a lie fall out of my mouth. It became such a habit as a child that I stopped trying, which means I need to hold to that promise I made Addi or become a liar through omission—and that seems like a fairly shithouse way to start a relationship.
She thinks she might annoy me. That she might not like something about me. But the way she reacted to me in Harken’s underbelly, how she kissed me back at her house … there is nothing objectionable between us, and that is exactly how it will stay.
My boots pound the scarred flagstone steps, my blood heating as I complete circuit after circuit up the winding staircase. The echoes that fill the tower deafen me, an easy warning to the boss man of my presence, though after tonight he will cease to have any hold over me.
Good .
He’s been my keeper for long enough during my short tenure at Harken, the reason I don’t make deals with demons or angels or gods or fucking toadstools. Who knows what might bite me in the ass at some future point?
I’ve spent enough time in Harken to know the walls contain something worse than brick and mortar, and the inhabitants are just as cruel and tortured as those of its violent past.
“Can you try to make less noise? You might wake the dead with that ruckus,” Mana calls as I near the top step, tucking his semi-thickened cock back into his leather pants and pulling the crotch strings until they squeal.
“Were you pissing or wanking?” I mutter, forcing my gaze to remain steady on his face. Anything else will be seen as weakness, and I have no doubt Mana sees far more than I will ever wish him to see.
“Does it matter?” He shrugs and gives his covered cock a rough squeeze.
I feel the touch like his hand is on my crotch instead of his own, and the second squeeze is gentler. Caressing. “Stop that,” I hiss, slamming my knuckles against the belfry’s stonework. The pain helps a little, but my cock still hardens. “You do not have my consent.”
Maybe it’s me who sounds like the broken record.
Mana stares at me, the corners of his mouth crooking up in a sly smile that douses me in ice everywhere other than where his phantom touch rests. “Is that so? Consent is a funny thing. I don’t remember you requesting to leave the premises this evening either, but you did, didn’t you? I think you took something from me.”
He rubs his cock, the leather straining as he swells. The man has endless endurance in his corner. My cock receives the same attention and salutes the unwelcome, ghostly touch no matter how much I hate the man and what he can do to me.
“I took nothing that wasn’t yours to start with,” I grate out. I slam my palms to the walls and drag my nails along the rough-hewn surface, staining it with streaks of my blood.
Mana hums his approval, his eyes hooding. “Don’t stop me. Not if you want me to release you.”
Phantom fingers brush my balls, tantalizingly sweet and gentle, like her—I banish the thought and let out an unwilling howl at the invasion on my favorite fantasy. Addi on her knees, my cock buried deep in her throat as I stroke her hair gently when she sobs for me, her fingertips stroking the underside of my balls until I rupture in her mouth.
The touch disappears and I drop to my knees, panting. Blood still roars in my ears as I slump over the stone, breath shuddering from my chest.
“You fucking asshole.”
“I’ve been called worse.” I can hear the smile in Mana’s voice.
“I don’t doubt you’ve earned it.”
“Well, yes. But that’s the fun part, isn’t it? Look what you’re giving up if you walk away.” His voice hardens.
I laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “You make it sound like I have a choice.” I slowly force myself to stand once more, knowing this is far from over.
“Don’t you?”
His touch is back though his hands are well away from his body. The bulge in his pants remains, and I wonder how many more club slut throats he’ll jam his cock down tonight before he’s satisfied. Mana constantly chases the high, never acknowledging what any drug addict could tell him: the first high is the best. And the worst.
It’s a curse in itself, one that’s forever chased after and never met again, always culminating in a cycle of disappointment and self-loathing.
“Don’t drag me into your shit.” Raising my chin, I hold his gaze. “Do your worst, Manashesh Severn. If I walk away, she’s mine. You leave her alone. Forever.”
“Such stark terms.” Ghost fingers travel around my cock, squeezing enough to make my length strain for more, yet not enough to give me the climax aching through me. “Should I accept his demands, Bowen?”
“I think you should let me take care of that pain you feel.” Bowen appears at the edge of the bell tower’s arch, crouching there in his bare feet and white leather pants and singlet like he flew in.
Fuck knows if he did.
Wait—did he say pain ?
“As long as you stay standing, you will have what you desire.” Mana’s voice breaks through my train of thought, but not enough to distract me from that little gem.
Pain. Is that what Mana feels when he comes? I stare past the devil tormenting me to the angel balancing delicately on his toes at the edge of nothingness. One push would send him plummeting seven floors to the soul-stained ground where more suicides and murders have taken place than any other spot on the premises.
Harken’s history is a temptation to the horror inside Mana, everything he needs to feed on. Power. Greed. Now, sex can be added to that list.
Bowen smiles at me through his lashes and I swear he exposes tiny motherfucking fangs in my direction.
Whoever said angels are fat, happy-faced babies is a fucking liar. They are the most dangerous beings in the universe—or at least, the ones who roam Harken certainly are.
Taking the information as the gift intended, I give in to Mana’s touch, letting the first groan rip from my throat. The sounds seem to please him, and his hand wanders back to the front of his pants only to be knocked away by Bowen.
“Allow me,” the angel whispers, dropping to his knees and reaching for the laces at the front of Mana’s bulge.
Mana catches the angel’s face in a cruel pincer grip, holding him at bay. “Mouth only over my pants. You don’t get the privilege of swallowing me whole.”
Bowen pouts sensually. “But you let the sluts fill their faces with your cum,” he whines, writhing on his haunches.
Damn, the man puts on one hell of a show.
“And they will forget the experience. Something I can’t take from you.” Mana releases his face and cups the back of the pale man’s neck. “Lips and tongue only. No teeth tonight.” His head falls back as Bowen’s mouth rubs over his bulge.
The angel’s tongue flicks out to trace his horse cock, and I have the privilege of experiencing every tormenting lick secondhand as though his mouth warms my own crotch. Mana’s touch doesn’t disappear, and the dual contact is far more than I can bear, especially when the angel seals his mouth over the other man’s leathers and breathes .
My cry shatters the silence gathering around the blood-marked place, and with a quick flick of hands and tongue I come undone, disgracing myself in my pants with the illicitness—and the impossibility—of it all.
My knees shake and I stumble forward, but Mana’s words ricochet in my head. “As long as you stay standing…”
A scream builds in me as the hands and mouth never stop, running endlessly over my throbbing, aching, overstimulated cock. I harden again and again, screaming with every sweet kiss Bowen bestows upon his master, every hard jerk Mana’s phantom touch gives my cock when I slide back into the realm of pleasure, his pain becoming my own.
My jeans are drenched with ropes of cum, the walls painted with my blood where my nails tear jagged against raw fingertips.
And as the sun crests the walls of Harken Asylum we scream together, welcoming the dawn in a tandem of torment. I stand still, knees locked, cum leaking down my thighs. My cock is rubbed raw, and I’m still moaning as Bowen brings us both to the edge and over again.
I don’t fall until the sun has risen beyond the walls, the golden orb witness to my torture as I tumble to my knees, my vow to Mana fulfilled.
I remained standing all night.
She is mine.