Chapter Seven #2
Cillian’s eyes went completely black. The shadows around Julian’s hand tightened. Their touch wasn’t painful, but it screamed of possessiveness. “I would lift you onto this table, spread you across the white tablecloth, and show you exactly how much I appreciate your unflinching pragmatism.”
Julian’s breath caught. “That would be inappropriate.”
“Yes.”
“And probably unsanitary.”
“Definitely.”
“Also, my agnolotti hasn’t arrived yet.”
Cillian’s laugh was low and dark and did interesting things to Julian’s pulse. “Then I’ll restrain myself.”
“Probably for the best.” Julian didn’t pull his hand away from the shadows. “Tell me something else about yourself.”
“Such as?”
“Where do you live? You said you’re part of the Order of Shadows. What is that exactly?”
“A collective of Eldritch Guardians who have chosen to work together. We maintain a property called Shadow House on the north side. I have a suite of rooms there.”
“How many guardians?”
“Four currently. Thorn, Rook, Silas and myself. Though the number fluctuates.”
“Do they all hunt predators?”
“Yes, though our methods vary. Some prefer more...theatrical approaches.”
Julian filed that information away. “And you’ve spoken with one of them since we met? Thorn? After you found me?”
Cillian’s expression shifted to something almost sheepish. “He suggested I was being too intense.”
“You were watching me through my window.”
“He pointed that out as well.”
“So, you came to the coffee shop.”
“He said normal humans court at coffee shops.”
Julian smiled. “This is better, though. The coffee shop was informative, but this is...” he gestured at the restaurant, the wine, Cillian’s shadows still wrapped around his hand. “This is actually romantic.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. You’re trying. I appreciate the effort.”
The agnolotti arrived. The server placed it down carefully, announced the dish, and retreated before Julian could comment on the presentation.
“Prompt service. They’re very afraid of you,” Julian observed, twirling pasta on his fork.
“Does that concern you?”
“No. But you might want to work on your public persona if we’re going to do this regularly.”
“Do what regularly?”
“Date. Court. Whatever terminology you prefer.” Julian took a bite. The brown butter was perfect. “I’m assuming this isn’t a singular dinner event.”
“I would like to take you to dinner every night for the rest of your life.”
Julian paused mid-chew and then swallowed. He was well aware it was rude to speak with a mouthful. “That’s a significant commitment.”
“I’m a significant entity.”
“Fair point.” Julian thought about Cillian’s manner while he continued eating. The beets arrived, and he tried them, too. “I should clarify something.”
“Yes?”
“I’ve never dated anyone seriously. I’ve had three relationships, each lasting less than four months.
They all ended because the other person found me too difficult, too precise, or too emotionally unavailable.
” He met Cillian’s eyes. “I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to have false expectations. ”
“What makes you think I have false expectations?”
“You keep saying things like ‘the rest of your life’ and looking at me like I’m a religious experience. That suggests significant romantic idealization.”
Cillian’s shadows coiled tighter. “Julian, I am an ancient entity who feeds on corruption. My kind has existed since before human civilization. I have never wanted anything the way I want you. That’s not idealization. That’s recognition.”
“Of what?”
“My fated mate.”
Julian set down his fork. “You mentioned that at the coffee shop, and we talked about it briefly. Explain what that term means to you.”
“You’re a beacon. A beacon is a soul that resonates with perfect clarity. For Eldritch entities, finding a mate is extraordinarily rare. Most of us exist in isolation. But when we find our match - our opposite, our anchor - the bond is absolute.”
“So this is a biological imperative.”
“No. Biological suggests a physical aspect. This is more all-encompassing. I prefer the word destiny.”
Julian picked up his fork again. “I don’t believe in destiny.”
“You believe in me.”
“That’s different. You’re empirically real. I can see you. You’re right in front of me. Destiny is a conceptual framework humans use to justify randomness.”
“And yet you walked into an alley at the exact moment I was there. You saw me at my most monstrous and offered me practical advice instead of running. You touched my shadows without fear. You looked at my darkness and saw something worth keeping.” Cillian leaned across the table.
“Call it what you want, Julian. But we were always going to find each other.”
Julian processed this. The logic was sound, even if the premise required accepting concepts he’d previously dismissed as folklore. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’m willing to accept that there may be forces at work beyond standard causality. And regardless of terminology, I’m attracted to you. Extremely attracted. In ways that are both physiologically interesting and logically confusing.”
“That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Really? That was barely coherent.”
“It was perfect.” Cillian’s hand covered Julian’s, shadows and flesh combined. “Finish your dinner. Then, because we’re at our courting stage, I will continue to pretend I’m a gentleman and I’ll walk you home.”
Julian returned to his agnolotti, but he was smiling. His guardian was definitely trying…something Julian had never had in his life before. It was a heady feeling, and he liked it.