11. Daniel
Daniel
Dark.
Cold.
Cramped.
Alone.
A guttural sound left him. He raised his hands, but they brushed something buttery soft. Where was he? Why was he alone?
His hands lit up, flickers of hellfire dancing painlessly over his skin. It alarmed him. Fire was supposed to hurt, but this didn’t. He was in a casket—a soft, white satin tomb. No. Wrong. Escape.
He ripped the satin, beating on the casket until the wood cracked and rained dirt down on his chest. Dirt. Six feet of dirt. How did he know it was six feet? It was always six feet. That was the tradition. He didn’t know how he knew that, either.
The hellfire burned brighter as he thrust both hands out again, snapping the wood and shoving it up into the dirt above him.
He took a deep breath as clumps of it poured in, clawing at it, ripping the wood to pieces until he could sit up, forcing his body up, up, up through the dirt with his eyes squeezed shut and desperation clawing up his throat.
He moved easier through the dirt than expected, his body strong despite his strange circumstances. When his hand broke through the surface and felt cool air, it was quickly seized by another, hauling him up and out of the hole with relative ease.
His savior fell back as Daniel came free, and they collapsed in a tangle of limbs.
Daniel braced his hands on either side of the man’s—the demon’s—head. Windswept black hair that seemed to defy gravity; glittering, night-dark eyes.
Chaol. The name came to him at once.
Mine.
It was the only word that mattered, rising like the tide and sweeping away everything else. Not who he was or how he got here or what he needed to do next.
Chaol beamed up at him, using Daniel’s own jacket lapel—he was wearing a suit, apparently—to wipe the dirt from his face. “There you are, darkling.”
He grabbed Chaol’s head and crushed their mouths together.
Chaol opened for him at once, and Daniel pressed his tongue inside the hot cavern of his mouth, gripping Chaol’s jaw like he could peel him open and sink all the way inside.
That was what he wanted—he wanted to join their bodies in every way possible.
All too soon, Chaol tried to break their kiss, arching away to free his mouth. Daniel chased him, his grip tightening, and Chaol laughed, grabbing a fistful of Daniel’s hair and yanking until pain sparkled across his scalp and he had to relent or gain a bald spot.
He growled at being denied what he wanted, fire licking up his forearms, reflecting in Chaol’s eyes.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Chaol said.
“Mine,” Daniel snarled, wrapping his fingers around Chaol’s throat and pinning him to the ground with his weight. The flickering fire didn’t burn him; Daniel didn’t want it to.
Chaol’s face darkened with hunger. “Yes, yours. Do you need me now, or can we find somewhere for you to shower and clean up first?”
Daniel whined. The thought of pulling away from Chaol right now was like a shard of ice in his chest. It would hurt; he wouldn’t be able to stand it.
“Fine,” Chaol said, relaxing. He patted Daniel’s hand around his throat. “Do you remember Hell?”
Hell. Darkness and firelight and huddling together in quiet little alcoves with Chaol. Fear and fighting and drowning in black. Chaol’s arms around him, Chaol’s eyes on his, Chaol’s rhythmic wings flapping in the sky. Chaol, Chaol, Chaol. The only thing that mattered.
“Yes. You.”
“I’m flattered, darkling,” Chaol purred. “I hear it can be kind of a shock to return to the surface for the first time after the transformation. The rest will come back to you in time.”
Daniel growled, leaning in to mouth at Chaol’s jaw. He didn’t care about any other memories. Chaol was all that mattered. He wanted to fuck. Needed it. Wanted to make Chaol his.
Chaol chuckled like he could read all Daniel’s sordid thoughts. “I’d like it noted for the record that I’ve been handling this attraction far better than you are now—although, granted, I’ve been a demon for a lot longer.”
Daniel didn’t know exactly what that meant, and he didn’t really care right now. “Want you,” he said. “Right now.”
Chaol’s hands slid under his suit jacket, peeling it down his arms and tossing it away. “Then take me.”
That was all the permission Daniel needed.
He sank his teeth into Chaol’s neck, and Chaol’s rapturous moan joined Daniel’s as sweet black blood flooded his mouth.
His hips worked mindlessly as he drank, and Chaol’s hands found his hips, guiding him just so until their cocks ground together through cloth and denim.
They moaned in tandem, and Daniel raised his head, drawing Chaol into a kiss smeared with blood.
Chaol’s hands snuck between them, loosening first Daniel’s trousers and then his own. Yes, skin. Daniel needed more of it, needed to sheathe himself inside Chaol until they both shook with it. He reached down, yanking Chaol’s jeans to his thighs and urging his knees up.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” Chaol said urgently. “I hope you know we’re doing it the other way around next time, though.”
“Yes, fine,” Daniel agreed. He bit deep into Chaol’s thigh, one hand teasing Chaol’s length while he spat blood and saliva into his other palm and coated his cock with it.
Pressing inside Chaol hurt in the best way possible, so tight around his cock that it ached. Chaol whined, pulling him closer, and pain went off like fireworks behind his eyes as he pushed in deeper.
“Oh fuck,” Chaol moaned. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Feels fantastic.”
Yes, yes, it hurt, and when Chaol turned his head and sank sharpened teeth into his bicep, it hurt even more.
Pain and pleasure mingled, shooting like fireworks in his mind.
This wasn’t like the pain he felt as a human.
Daniel collapsed to his elbows, bending Chaol almost in half, and bit into his chest as he stubbornly worked his hips in and out, working up a punishing rhythm until Chaol had to let go of his arm to scream, his mouth smeared with Daniel’s black blood.
It was perfect, their bodies rocking as they licked and kissed and bit, tasting and learning each other in all the most intimate of ways.
The pain faded, leaving only molten pleasure behind.
Daniel never wanted it to end. He could keep Chaol like this for hours, opened up on his cock and begging for mercy and more in the same breath. He couldn’t imagine anything better.
Sharp claws pricked at his back as Chaol neared the end, the color leaching from his skin like he was having trouble holding back his transformation.
His wings didn’t appear—which was a shame, really, because Daniel would like to fuck him while they were out sometime.
Chaol’s spine arched, and he came with an explosive scream, thighs quivering between them.
His hole fluttered around Daniel’s cock, as though trying to pull him in deeper, and with a shudder, Daniel spilled inside him, slipping an arm under Chaol’s head and using the other to tangle their fingers together.
Neither of them moved until their bodies stopped shuddering. Daniel was content with his nose buried in Chaol’s neck, breathing the concentrated scent of brimstone, blood, and skin.
Finally, Chaol broke the silence, sweeping his free hand up and down Daniel’s flank. “How are you feeling now, darkling?”
Daniel raised his head, but before he could speak, movement amongst the headstones caught his eye.
Demons hovered around them, hiding in the shadows.
Chaol followed his gaze, arching his neck to look.
In a past life, they would have made him uncomfortable, even afraid.
Now, he barely noticed them. They couldn’t harm him even if they wanted to, but they weren’t here for violence. This was curiosity.
“Beat it,” Chaol snapped, and the demons scattered. “Don’t worry, they were just curious. Drawn by the burst of power that came from the gate opening and a new demon landing on Earth. Harbingers are kind of a big deal.”
Daniel frowned. “How far would that kind of burst be felt?” They’d been in danger. He remembered that.
Chaol shrugged. “Depends on the gate—and the demon coming through it.”
There were many demons in the area. Daniel knew it just as surely as he’d known he was buried six feet deep.
Protectiveness streaked through him, and he gently pulled out of Chaol, who groaned at the loss.
He helped Chaol pull his jeans up before he handled his own, hellfire flickering behind his ribcage.
He knew, somehow, that they wouldn’t be alone for long.
“We need to—find somewhere to clean up,” Chaol said, taking his hands and hauling him to his feet.
The Rink. The thought came to him automatically, along with flashes of memory. A shining, mirrored disco ball. The scent of coffee. Smiles and laughter. It was a safe place, and he had allies there. Friends. He’d been… desperate to get back to them.
“Danny?” A complicated frown crossed Chaol’s face, and he raised a hand to cradle Daniel’s cheek. “Where’d you go? Are you having trouble remembering things? Thinking straight?”
Daniel frowned. “Yes, but I remembered something. A place where we can go to rest and find my friends.”
“Oh? I don’t suppose you remember how to get there? You can teleport, did you know?”
He didn’t know that, but it would certainly come in handy.
They didn’t have a car or money for public transportation.
He could call one of his friends, but they had no phone.
And he didn’t remember any phone numbers.
Frustration pulsed through him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so helpless.
They didn’t have time for him to be hamstrung by logistics. Chaol wasn’t safe.
“Daniel,” Chaol said, calling his attention back to the present, and Daniel admonished himself for drifting off again. Chaol’s expression softened with concern. “Maybe we should’ve waited on the sex.”
Daniel scowled. “No way, I wanted that.”
Chaol huffed. “Fine, you animal.” He looked around, blowing out a breath. “Do you have any idea where we are? I was a New Yorker the last time I was topside. None of this looks remotely familiar.”
An unfamiliar voice answered. “Los Angeles.”
They turned to face the newcomer. Daniel stepped in front of Chaol, reaching into the empty air beside him and drawing the hellblade from the aether. It appeared in his grip, crackling with heat, and Chaol’s hand fisted the back of his shirt with a quiet curse.
He didn’t recognize the stranger, but was that because he was truly unfamiliar or could Daniel just not remember him?
His long black hair was pulled back in a loose twist, and his black eyes held a familiar ethereal orange glow deep within the pupil.
He was broad-shouldered, wearing a simple black T-shirt and dark jeans.
His skin was so pale that veins were visible underneath.
“Holy shit,” Chaol breathed, like he recognized the stranger.
“Who are you?” Daniel demanded.
The stranger smiled. “My name is Draego. I’m a harbinger—like you.”
Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Could they trust him? He glanced back at Chaol, who gave him an encouraging nod.
“Put that thing away.” Draego waved a dismissive hand at the blade. “If I came here to fight, you would know it. I felt your arrival, and curiosity got the better of me. I’ve never seen another like me, after all.”
Warily, Daniel released the hellblade, which winked out of sight, and Chaol’s hand slowly loosened from the back of his shirt.
“Did I hear you say you have allies in the area?” Draego asked. “I’m inclined to meet them.”
“Why?” Daniel asked bluntly. If the rumors were to be believed, Draego was incredibly powerful. Giving him access to the Rink could be dangerous if he wasn’t trustworthy. Daniel couldn’t remember much about it right now, but he knew it was worth protecting.
“I’ve heard rumblings that a war is coming with the paladins. Consider me interested. The guild has been a thorn in my side for many years, and… I’d like to see it through.” His hooded gaze held a galaxy of secrets.
“There’s something you’re not telling us,” Daniel said.
“There are many things I’m not telling you,” Draego agreed.
“Then how can I trust you?”
Draego lowered his gaze, his lips pursed. “Is it true demons and humans are working together? Demons and paladins?”
“Yes. I was a paladin.”
Draego’s dark brows rose in surprise. Inclining his head, he said, “Therein lies my true interest. There is someone within the guild that I… am protective of. If a war is coming, I’d see that he survives.”
There was no point in asking who, because Daniel wasn’t sure he’d recognize any names right now. It was enough that Draego had told him this much. He was no stranger to the strength of that fated connection.
“Okay. I’ll take you to the Rink, then.”
Draego brightened, strolling closer. He circled around the hole in the ground where Daniel used to be buried, casting a long look at his headstone, and then asked, “How long have you been a demon, brother?”
Brother. The word snagged in his mind, and he couldn’t shake it. “Um. Not long.”
“Do you know how to teleport?”
“Not really.”
“Well, you must maintain contact with everyone you wish to bring with you.” Draego held out one hand for Daniel to take.
He did so reluctantly, then turned and threaded his fingers through Chaol’s.
“Then, you simply think about where you want to go. Much like you reached for the hellblade, you’ll reach through the folds of space, but instead of pulling something out, you’ll pull yourself through.
” He bobbed his head from side to side in a thoughtful way.
“There will be some fire, but don’t worry, it won’t burn any of us. ”
Daniel frowned, his gaze going distant as he pictured the Rink. He could feel the aether all around him, like shadows just at the edges of his vision. His body tensed as he tried to visualize moving through them, but nothing happened.
“Calm,” Draego said softly. “Think of it like a hall beyond a doorway. You can see it through the open door. All you have to do is step through it. We’ll follow you with no resistance.”
“Easy, darkling,” Chaol added. “You’ll get us there. I know you will.”
Daniel clung to the sentiment. Chaol had faith in him. He could do anything with Chaol by his side.
The aether parted, and flames engulfed them as they hurtled through empty space. When the flames died out, they were standing under a disco ball, and someone started screaming.