Chapter Twelve #3
No. I have no deal with them. I am merely observing from a distance.
And occasionally encouraging it. Damaris showed Archie his vision again, focusing on the moving haze that Archie had been avoiding looking at that was the couple next door.
When Damaris had reignited the fire, he had bundled all his magic up and thrust it out at once.
Now, he did the equivalent of lazily flicking a finger in their direction and Archie felt the tiniest spark dart through the wall, then the aura got brighter.
Stop it. It’s not… It’s not fair, said Archie, struggling to find a way to explain it to Damaris without sounding like a petulant child. I struck the deal with you, I’m the only one who agreed to be subject to your magic. Leave them alone.
Our deal was not brokered with exclusivity, said Damaris, but he pulled back his magic.
Are you possessing other people at the same time? Archie changed tack.
No. Confusion tinged the edge of Damaris’s presence.
I said you could use your magic on me in exchange for hosting you in my body.
If they don’t share the responsibility of hosting you then I say they shouldn’t get your magic.
In truth, Archie wished he could better remember the wording of his own deal.
He should have written it down or something, but he’d been rather out of his mind when he’d made it.
Archie could almost hear Damaris puzzling it out in his head, turning the words over, and waited.
That is not how it is done in the demon realm, but I taste the truth in your words.
Damaris frowned. This logic wouldn’t really hold up in a human debate either, but Archie had read about this in the Wyndham book, about common it was for a human to think they were making a certain deal based on human morality and assumptions but a demon could interpret it a different way and not even consider it a loophole.
He’d tried to sound firm about it and locked his uncertainties up very tightly in his magical mind tower.
I do not agree, but I would rather keep one satisfied meal than many morsels.
It is no difficulty to save my energy for more important magic workings.
Thank you, said Archie with some relief. What about Earl Damian? How does he play into this? Prince Ixthan asked if you had grander ambitions to take over the kingdom and I defended you. And now I realize I don't even know.
I am not pretending to be Damian. I am Damian, he does not exist without me.
And he does not exist without you. Damaris pressed a partial set of images into Archie's mind, each of different men, different characteristics, all things that Archie had thought of previously.
He'd suspected it, no, he'd known it, he just hadn't let himself admit it.
Damian was a composite, created of all the things Damaris knew Archie found attractive into one man perfect for him.
He squirmed. But – why?
This is the most pleasurable form for you, is it not?
Damaris sounded so matter-of-fact about it.
He moved, and Archie felt it this time, the way he emptied out of Archie's mind into the shadows, and then Damian formed in front of him like an apparition, oddly translucent.
Archie whipped his head around to check, even though he knew Damaris would have been able to sense the energy of anyone nearby. The library was still empty.
Slowly, Archie stood up to face him, his heart pounding.
This was the first time he let himself examine Damian properly.
The prince's party had been full of witnesses, and he'd been too taken-aback to allow himself to look.
Even now the fear of being caught staring burned a low shame in his gut, fed by years of furtive paranoia.
Damian stood a little taller than him, so he had to tip his head up to meet his eyes.
Thick dark hair curled ever so slightly, framing strong eyebrows and a chiseled face.
A wry smile formed with full lips that Archie had come to associate with Damaris's dry tone.
Damian swept an elaborate bow with no little mockery and did a slow turn as if he were in the ballroom so Archie could see all the way around.
A set of broad shoulders and chest eclipsed Archie's own and swept down to a trim waist. Archie was so used to averting his eyes, the terror of being caught with wandering eyes on a man that it took him three tries to let himself linger on the swell of Lymond’s ass moving down to the thick thighs and shapely calves, made more obvious with the tight leggings and short tunic he ‘wore’.
“Unfortunately,” said Damian, and then he vanished. Archie blinked, disorientated for a moment, and then Damaris had slithered back into his mind. Unfortunately, maintaining a corporeal form takes more energy than anything else. He sounded tired already, after just those few moments.
Archie understood, with sudden clarity. Damaris had used him so thoroughly in order to gather enough energy to create Damian.
Those few periods he'd thought Damaris was asleep or quiet in his mind was when he must have tried out the human form before showing Archie.
And the winter party, when he had kept the form up for the whole evening, had burned through all his stored magic.
That must be why he'd been rolling around barely coherent in Archie's mind afterwards, reduced back to his shadow form.
And now he was trying to build back up those reserves.
Yes, through feeding on Archie, but also from inhaling all the desire that he came across so that his demand of Archie was not so high.
You said I could die. Archie knew that becoming a mage was dangerous, that there was a mortality rate, but he hadn’t thought he could be fucked to death.
Energy is energy. If I consume all of your life force, there is none left keeping you alive, said Damaris.
Archie struggled to wrap his head around the idea that a person’s life force was magic in the same way heat from a fire or human emotions could be, but that surely fell under what Damaris meant when he’d said that humans classified energy differently.
Another thought broke through his musing and persisted: that Damaris didn't have to do this.
That hadn't been in the details of their poorly constructed deal at all.
Why? asked Archie. Is Ixthan correct? He suspected that you wished to hoard the power to do something nefarious.
Damaris snorted sleepily. The prince thinks he understands demon minds, but he has lived in the human realm his entire life. No, it is entirely logical. The most efficient way for our deal to succeed is for you to engage with a form that pleases you the most.
Something churned in Archie's gut. I don't need you to do that. It's... what you've been doing is... fine. His throat felt tight. Even thought he wasn't speaking the words aloud, he'd spent so long trying not to think about his condition that it felt scandalous to discuss the details of his desire.
You think I would settle for fine? Damaris sounded insulted now, and Archie groaned. Nothing he was saying was coming out right.
No! I just mean that it doesn't feel right. You shouldn't have to, to, I don't know. To reshape yourself into a form just for my... preferences. Archie pressed the backs of his hands against his cheeks, hoping that would rid them of the heat he could feel rising in him, and waited.
Humans are too complicated. Why would you deny yourself the thing that pleases you most? Damaris complained. He didn't sound more offended, at least, just confused in the way Archie did when he was too tired for his thoughts to be coherent.
Archie didn't know how to explain it, just that the idea of letting anyone know he was interested in men was enough to get him excluded from most society.
His father would certainly disown him and if he didn't, Charlie definitely would.
Actually, Charlie would probably pay someone to kidnap him and have him committed to a temple that was a glorified hole in the ground.
But Damaris likely picked up some of that without Archie needing to say it; he was too flustered, his mental image of a fortified tower had disintegrated no matter how valiantly Archie tried to think of closing a window.
In any case, it is not a hardship. Demons do not have set forms, and I enjoy Damian's, said Damaris carelessly, and Archie got the sense of him rolling his shadow into a little ball, ready to rest in the back of Archie’s mind.
Archie sent an inquiring image, the memory of Damaris with antlers.
That one, too, was suitable for the habitat I lived in there. Humans have no need for such displays. You compete with little swords and big words instead. Disdain now, and Archie was relieved Damaris was no longer annoyed.
Staring down at his hands, Archie’s stomach cramped at the very idea of saying what he was thinking.
But he’d already admitted things to Damaris he never thought he’d mention to anyone before.
Eventually, he blurted it out loud before he could swallow the words down again. “I like them. The antlers.”
Damaris was silent for a moment.
Hm, he said finally. Nothing else. But Archie suspected he sounded pleased behind the flash of surprise.