Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
MAL
Mal hadn’t lied to Clayton. What had just happened between them was definitely new to him.
Mal liked new. After enough years piled on, new things became scarce, and he’d just discovered two new food sources in a single day after an endless lifetime of nothing but pure fear.
One of the new sources was far more enjoyable than the other. Grampy’s questionable food would be useful in an emergency, but Clayton… Hmm. Clayton wasn’t going to be a one-time buffet as he’d originally planned.
Mal had been so hungry that he’d fully planned to eat Clayton’s fear until there was nothing left and then make a graceful exit before his family found out what he’d done. However, once he’d been left alone with the man, something entirely different occurred.
Clayton hadn’t been afraid of Mal. There wasn’t a mote of fear energy in him to be found. But the second Mal had made contact with his skin, Clayton had begun to churn out the most intoxicating energy Mal had experienced. It was heady and delicious, and Mal couldn’t get enough.
He saw deep inside Clayton’s soul and knew exactly what he needed to do to get Clayton to make more. If that hadn’t been amazing enough, Mal actually liked doing it.
It was natural, the easiest thing in the world to play with Clayton’s mind and body like that. Now Mal was bursting with energy for the first time in his life, and he’d only had to torment and delight a fussy little man to get it.
Clayton was fun. Clayton was interesting. Clayton was… Mal’s.
Clayton was Mal’s.
Well then. That certainly made Mal’s life about a thousand times more interesting.
He took in the tight set of Clayton’s shoulders as he all but sprinted away from the kitchen and the scene of the crime that stripped away the young man’s thin veneer of civility and decorum. Mal grinned and followed him out to the living room.
Mal couldn’t sense Clayton’s thoughts or emotions now that he was no longer in feeding mode, but Mal still knew to his core exactly what Clayton was thinking. He was mortified that someone had seen through his illusion of propriety.
Poor baby. Mal was going to strip away so much more before he was done with Clayton.
He was going to take everything. Everything Clayton was, everything that supported him, and everything Clayton cared about, Mal was going to take from him to bind the man completely to the most feared nightmare in the Real.
“Mal?” There was a tug on his sleeve, and Merry held up a tattered doll. “Do you want to kiss Princess Stinky goodnight?”
“Princess what?” Mal’s mind fumbled as it tried to go from malicious plotting to pretending not to be terrifying.
Clayton skidded to a halt and turned to look at him. “She’s Merry’s sole source of comfort and sense of control in the world. You will not insult her.” His cheeks blazed red, not from mortification like before, but from sheer papa-bear intensity, and it was no less captivating.
Mal turned his attention back to Merry and the doll she still held out for his inspection. It began to glitter with a faint hint of red essence, and it floated a few wobbly inches higher.
Sigh.
“She’s… lovely,” Mal said flatly. When Clayton kicked him in the ankle, he added, “The orange crayon really brings out her… eye.” At least Mal thought it was an eye. It could have been an ear. The doll really was in sad shape.
“She needs a kiss goodnight,” Merry said urgently, and the magic around Princess Stinky flared like he needed help being able to see her.
He didn’t. From her massive mop of wild brown and green curls to her half-melted face, to the pungent smell she surely got her name from, Princess Stinky was an unignorable force to be reckoned with.
He gave Clayton a quick do I really need to kiss that horrible thing? expression and was met with Clayton’s irrefutable if you ever want to come near any part of my body again, you will kiss that fucking doll goodnight face.
Mal kept his sigh internal and his face neutral as he caught the doll just as Merry’s shaky control over her magic collapsed.
He scooped Princess Stinky into his arms and pressed a kiss to what he hoped was the doll’s cheek.
“Goodnight, Princess, sleep well and have wonderful dreams about rainbows, unicorns, and…” What was another nice thing? “...crossbows.”
He looked down at Merry to see if he’d gotten it right, ignoring Clayton’s snort of amusement, and he saw the little girl’s eyes wide with excitement. “Clayton, can we get a crossbow?!”
“No!”
Clayton stared at Mal in surprise. Likely because it had been Mal who had shouted it and not him, and Mal had been the one to bring up crossbows in the first place.
Mal wasn’t concerned for Merry. All children should get to experience the joys of projectile weaponry as early as possible, but Clayton needed a weapon in his house like he needed another hole in his boat.
How was Mal supposed to eat Clayton every day if he had a crossbow bolt through his head? Mal made a mental note to check the house over for potential hazards later that evening.
“Princess Stinky isn’t old enough for a crossbow yet,” Mal said sagely.
Merry frowned. “Samantha said she was over a hundred years old.”
“Dolls age differently than people do,” Clayton cut in smoothly, rescuing Mal from going against his own morals and keeping a child away from their gods-given right to learn every form of ranged combat they could get their hands on.
Mal didn’t need a weapon to be an effective killer, but fun was fun. Was he not allowed to have a hobby just because he was a monster?
“Oh, that makes sense.” Merry reached up to take her doll back from Mal, but when he tried to return it, Merry grabbed his sleeve and clutched it tightly in her tiny fingers. Her eyes were shy, but her upturned cheek wasn’t.
Mal scooped her into his arms and planted a huge, smacking kiss on her soft, chubby cheek. “Don’t worry, I was saving the best princess for last,” Mal promised solemnly.
“Merry, when did you slip away?” Eira exclaimed as she raced into the living area. “Tell them goodnight, and go to bed.”
Mal made to put the little girl down, but was intercepted by Clayton, who stole her away and planted his own loud kiss on Merry’s other cheek.
“You did an excellent job levitating Princess Stinky, love,” Clayton praised. “I swear you get better at that every day.”
Merry giggled and kicked her feet wildly, clipping Mal in the chest. Even though the impact of her small foot felt like having a feather land on him, he still clutched his chest and yelped, “You must be a monster to kick like that. Have mercy on me, Princess Monster.”
Mal held out his hands defensively. He left plenty of holes in his defenses for her to exploit in case she wanted to practice learning how to kill. He had a feeling her guardians were seriously lacking in this area of child-rearing.
Eira rolled her eyes. “There are already enough children in this house, Mal. Don’t be adding to my problems. If you rile her up, she won’t be able to fall asleep, and if she can’t sleep, then she won’t be able to grow properly.”
Mal and Clayton both glanced at each other before looking away guiltily.
They let Eira take Merry and herd her back to bed without another word, even though the little girl gave them both pleading looks. It was as things should be. She had no connection to Mal, so he had no reason to rescue her from bedtime.
Mal turned his full attention back to Clayton and was about to ask about the massive hole in the center of the living area, but he got punched in the arm.
“What was that for?” Mal rubbed his arm and scowled even though it didn’t actually hurt.
“You’re good with kids!” Clayton whisper-shouted accusingly.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Yes! No… I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting it. How did you get good at being around kids? I imagined that you hated kids.”
“Why would I hate them? They’ve never tried to kill me.”
Children were wonderfully predictable in that way.
It was nice not to have to worry about it.
He had no desire to eat them, and he didn’t have to worry about getting knifed in the back by one.
The older ones, maybe. Holly had been old enough to be murderous, but she didn’t give off a killer vibe at all.
“That’s your bar? As long as someone doesn’t try to kill you, you like them?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. Most sentient creatures, whether dangerous or not, are fundamentally repellent, but I find children to be relatively tolerable.”
“So, you like kids?”
“I don’t like anything, but I can tolerate kids. I thought I was being clear. Were you not listening?”
Clayton humphed and turned away. “So you ditched us all for some reason other than being afraid of kids. Good to know.”
“What? I didn’t ditch you. I barely even knew you or them. It was just a job.”
“A job involving orphaned, traumatized children. I’d just met them too, and yet look at me, I’m still here.” Clayton pushed away the hand Mal hadn’t realized he’d tried to place on the man’s shoulder.
“Well… I’m back now.” Mal hadn’t meant to come back, and he certainly hadn’t meant to stay, but he was fully planning on staying now.
His original idea of a snatch-and-grab was a good one.
He could take Clayton and consume him mind, body, and soul in the very best way, and Mal would enjoy every minute of it.
But on second glance, he realized that Clayton would be angry and pointy the entire time, and eventually, he might even grow to fear Mal.
And for some wild, unfathomable reason, Mal didn’t want to know what Clayton’s fear tasted like anymore. Especially if it was directed at Mal.
It was probably because it couldn’t compare to the delicious cocktail of emotions and energy Clayton had shared with him in the kitchen. It was even possible that fear would ruin the entire experience.