Chapter Fifteen #3
Archie tried to keep a straight face. Pretty much everything Damaris did was suspicious. “No, not at all. But I do know that he is acquainted with Prince Ixthan. Surely the prince would know if Lymond was an unauthorized magic user?”
“The demon prince?” Ollie said with a frown. “Why didn’t you say so before?”
Archie bit his tongue. He’d hardly had the time to say anything at all. “Yes, we met at a party hosted by the prince.”
Ollie’s eyebrows raised. “Your acquaintances are moving up in the world. Well, there’s no way to miss the amount of demonic energy coming from him so if the prince knows him then he must be a registered mage even if he’s not public about it. Sorry to have panicked you, Arch.”
Shaking his head, Archie said, “Not at all, I’d rather know. I wouldn’t have expected an Earl to be a mage either.”
They parted ways after that, Ollie wanting to see if Father needed any help for the evening, and Archie ostensibly back to the palace.
But first, he waited until Ollie had headed out of sight before doubling back to the pub.
Damian was still there, cradling his drink in the corner as he observed the humans.
“Thank the gods you’re still here,” said Archie, gratefully sliding into a seat.
He’d been terrified the whole time that Damaris might decide that he’d had enough of being corporeal for the evening and vanish back into Archie’s mind – at which point Ollie would have no doubt sensed the magic and realized that Archie was the one possessed.
“An improvement on last time,” said Damian, lifting his pint glass and taking a sip for Archie to see that he was really interacting with the glassware and not merely faking it.
“Can you taste it?” asked Archie, his fear momentarily derailed at seeing just how solid, how real Damian seemed.
“No. There is a sense of wetness, of cold, but not yet taste. Though judging from my environs, perhaps I should not expect the taste to be good,” said Damian dryly, glancing around.
Archie reached out, impulsively, and lay his hand on Damian’s arm. It felt real, startlingly real. The grain of the fabric under his hand, a light warmth that emanated from Lymond’s arm and the firmness of muscle laid over bone. “Amazing. This is so much more convincing than the previous time.”
“A matter of priorities. In my observations of humans, they place much importance on feel, on touch, on textures and pressure and so on,” said Damian, with a slight wrinkle in his nose, which told Archie how much demons didn’t care about any of those at all.
“We were lucky,” Archie informed him solemnly. “We picked the right day to try this again. It turns out Ollie is able to sense magical signatures. When he saw you, he told me you were possessed. If you had been inside me when he’d met, I think he would have sensed you were there.”
Damian frowned, clinking his firmly-real fingernails down the polished wood of the tankard. “That is indeed a problem. I haven’t shielded my signature as Damian, since I thought the only ones who could sense it are other demons.”
“And temple priests,” said Archie. “Ollie was preparing to go into the temple, that’s how he got the training.”
“Are they in abundance?”
Archie, who had not gone to temple since he was a boy, shrugged. “I haven’t spoken to one in years, but they are around here and there. Things like weddings and funeral ceremonies, I suppose, but they’re also the king’s demon hunters.”
Damian tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the table, and Archie felt the connected muscle under his palm flex.
He felt so real. And, Archie realized, there was no good reason for them to still be touching like this.
If anyone else in the taproom could see…
He withdrew his hand, sliding it into his lap as his face flushed.
The demon reacted immediately, his fingers stilling unnaturally as he pierced Archie with his gaze. Archie averted his eyes as Damian narrowed his eyes, but it was no use. Their entire bond was built around Damaris’s ability to see Archie’s shameful desires.
As Damian leaned in, Archie froze in place. He wanted to lean away, to shrink back until he melted into the chair, but it was too late now, Damian’s face barely an inch from his. Surely, the heat from his face was radiating through the sliver of air between them.
And then Damian inhaled deeply, and Archie felt as if he was being breathed in.
He straightened in his chair, the weight of that desire lifted from him as Damian drank it in.
Sweet relief flooded Archie, his mind clearing again.
He hadn’t known Damian could do it like that.
Every time Damian had fed on him before, his desire had blown back on him threefold, a continuous cycle of increasingly delicious agony until he was spent. He shivered.
“Are you ready to go home?” asked Damian. It sounded almost tender. Archie wished it could be like that: a man asking his lover if they would like to return home as easily as a man with a wife. He swallowed, and nodded.
Outside, the chill wind battered at them again.
Archie expected Damian to vanish into the shadows the moment they were out of public view, but the demon stayed by his side.
He extended an elbow, and it took Archie a moment to realize what it meant.
No one had done it to him before, and he hadn’t exactly got that far with any women. He hesitated.
Damian waited, elbow extended. There was no one around. No one to see them apart from the occasional drunk laborer in this area of the city. And even if they were spotted… what of it? They wouldn’t be recognized in the darkness. Archie slid his arm into the crook of Damian’s elbow.
The walk back to the palace was lengthier than Archie would have done at this time of day by himself but he made no suggestion of taking a carriage, even though several empty cab carriages trotted by.
They walked in companionable silence, Archie not wanting to break this fragile moment.
It was an odd sensation. He couldn’t help but be overly aware of Damian’s presence.
Damian was taller, broader, with Archie listing into him. He could feel the sturdiness of Damian’s side, the rustle of clothing as their coats brushed against each other, the body heat where their elbows linked tight. If he didn’t think about it too hard, he could pretend it was a true courtship.
“This, too, is a desire,” said Damian, his tone softer than anything Archie had ever heard out of the demon. Archie turned to look up at him, the lines of his strong cheekbones and firm chin cast in shadow. But Damian had nothing else to add.
It was only when they neared the palace that Archie slowed. The shroud of night that seemed to protect them all the way here was lifted by the long string of lit lanterns.
“I guess we should separate,” said Archie reluctantly, even though he made no move to let go.
“It is not as if I am leaving you,” said Damian with some amusement.
He took Archie’s wrist with his free hand and elegantly unwrapped his linked arm.
And then, just before he let go, he bent his head and dropped a kiss on the back of Archie’s glove.
He felt it, barely, the slightest whisper against his skin.
He inhaled sharply, and blinked, and Damian was gone.
Home, said Damaris, and the warmth of his presence inside Archie’s mind felt right.