Chapter Sixteen #2
‘You speak of impossible things…’ Despite his trepidation, Xian took a step towards the Englishman; the man who claimed himself so much more.
‘As impossible as this?’ He gestured to his mended hand. ‘Or this?’
He winked, and his eyes shone, as though he stood before a fire; the reflection overpowering his natural green shade.
Xian’s hand flew to his mouth, covering his shallow gasp. Perhaps all of this was a dream; he was fast asleep, snoring in his bed, dreaming of mystical beings come to life.
‘That is trickery,’ he said. ‘Some manipulation of the light.’
William dropped his head back and groaned. ‘Oh gods, don’t be so dull. I just told you that you are not human, and not only are you ignoring that, you are accusing me of being a carnival magician.’
‘I assure you I am very much human, Sir William. I have the scars to prove it.’ He pressed a hand to his side, where the flames had scorched him from hip to breast.
The Englishman rolled his eyes; now returned to their vibrant green. ‘Are you so bothered by a few marks, you’re more worried about them, than what I’m telling you?’
‘They are not just a few. And you are mad.’ Xian spoke barely above a whisper, quite certain he’d wake himself from this strange dream if he raised his voice louder; and he was not yet ready to wake. ‘And unkind. I lost my mother to that fire you speak of so flippantly.’
William watched him closely. He did that a lot, Xian noted. Bored his gaze, like a worm into the wood. ‘And did my speaking of it in such a way bring her back to chastise me? Or is she still quite dead, and you, still quite alive, though belligerent about facing facts?’
His words stung like nettles. ‘She is still quite dead…so is Mercy.’
‘That’s the carp you mourn?’
‘Yes.’ He refused to apologise for it.
‘A pity she is gone. I’m intrigued to learn what Natural befriended you.
A water dweller, obviously, but which one?
Those I’ve known have been utter arseholes, silkies for instance, are petulant cows.
At least panlong tastes decent, I suppose.
All told, water dwellers are more intent on drowning you than playing with you.
Never mind, I am far more interested in finding out what type of Natural you are, my friend.
’ He planted his hands on his hips. ‘Are you tired of being in denial yet? I am quite mercurial, so if you don’t take me up on my offer now, I’m liable to renege by morning. ’
Xian’s nerves tingled, and some distant part of him urged him to flee. But he did not shift an inch. ‘Panlong and forest sprites and incubus? Sir William, you cannot ask me to believe in such creatures.’
William moved at a breathtaking pace, skirts rustling like wind through the willows. Xian blinked, and the Englishman was almost atop him.
‘Denial does not look good on you, dear boy. And it bores me to tears.’
Another flare of firelight shone in his eyes. Xian inhaled sharply. This was no trick of the light, as he’d hoped, but rather a genuine movement of contrasting colour.
‘I did not mean to displease you.’
‘Stop worrying a damn about the feelings of others.’ William stepped forward, and Xian countered with a move back. ‘Besides, I am not displeased, merely impatient.’
They moved in slow, careful steps. Xian had a clear route to the door; he could run from this most confounding man, but he could not find the want in himself to do so. Stay. His instincts whispered; just as they had when the storm approached Kunming.
But this tempest frightened him far more than the weather.
‘How can you show me,’ he said quickly, before trepidation stole his courage.
William raised a brow, and not a single wrinkle marred his forehead. ‘Show you what? Be specific, or I’ll be teaching you how to fondle balls perfectly.’
‘Show me who I am,’ Xian said forcefully. ‘Must you be so bawdy with every word you speak?’
‘Yes, I bore myself otherwise.’
Xian’s back met the dark timber that fortified the room’s corners.
‘Who are you, Sir William Black?’
Being in this man’s presence was like walking with a tiger; his beauty overwhelming, the danger thick and pungent.
William pressed his hands to the wall on either side of Xian’s head, leaning his bare chest close. ‘I too am a prince, and my sire a king, but with far greater powers than yours.’
‘King of which land?’ Xian whispered.
‘None you would recognise.’ His breath was warm against Xian’s neck. ‘Full of daemons and angels, and all the monsters the Purebreds fear. Myself included, when the mood takes me.’
‘Sir William, please.’ Xian pressed his hand to the Englishman’s chest. A man of flesh and blood, who claimed himself the most maniacal of things. ‘If you intend to show me who I truly am, then let it be done. You are frightening me with all this talk of evil creatures.’
He frowned. ‘Now excuse me, highness. I said monsters, but do not assume we are all evil too. I am a daemon, a full blooded incubus, if you don’t mind. For all we know it is you who are an evil creature. So there.’
Xian closed his eyes, pushing back against the instinct that held him here. This was truly madness. But he heard himself speak, as though from afar. ‘If you know so much, why can you not tell me what I am?’
‘Because someone has tied you up tight. Your aura is abysmal, and if I were not such a significant daemon, I’d not notice you at all.’
Xian opened his eyes and stared into deep green pools. ‘Tied me up? My aura?’
‘That’s what I said…have you come down with sudden deafness?
Could have been your mother’s doing, I suppose.
I hear mothers are quite adamant about protecting their young, but I’ve no comparison on account of not having one.
Whatever was done, it hasn’t given you much of a life now, has it?
I mean, you’re good at dancing, I suppose.
Otherwise, from where I stand, you seem bloody miserable.
Perhaps all that unhappiness comes from having your true self stifled. ’
Of all the things said by the Englishman, this struck Xian the hardest.
He licked his lips. ‘I wish to know my true self.’
If there were any chance, any at all, such a truth might bring him freedom from the life he led, then Xian would make a deal with this daemon.
‘A wish! Oh, brilliant, little prince. You have reminded me of a Frenchman I met, near on two centuries ago now.’ He stepped back, pulling off his shirt entirely, and gathering up the folded portion of his gown, slipping his arm through one sleeve.
‘Name was Charles, lovely cock on him, and a wonderful apartment on the Champs Elysse. But by the gods, the man was obsessed with his writing. Fixated on this tale he was penning, a story not unlike yours.’ He slipped on the other sleeve, the ruffled neckline of black lace far too large for his slender form; threatening to fall from his shoulders as his shirt had done.
‘Can you fasten the buttons at the back? This shall drive me mad otherwise.’ He turned about, and when Xian hesitated, he clicked his tongue.
‘Come on, I can’t play fairy godmother without a decent gown, now, can I? ’
Xian stared at the horrendous number of button clasps at the back of the gown. ‘A fairy godmother?’
‘Yes, yes. I thought you said you were well-read?’ Xian had said no such thing, but he held his tongue.
‘It’s all in Charles’s tale. Some silly nonsense about a downtrodden maiden, worked hard by her nefarious family, but eventually finding her prince with the help of a magickal old woman, a fairy godmother.
Do you see what I’m trying to do here now?
’ Xian did not, but again he held his tongue, working his way up the line of ivory buttons.
‘Anyway, Charles tried to tell me the tale had existed for centuries, but honestly I didn’t think his story would survive a week.
’ He shuddered. ‘Puerile stuff, but the Purebreds went mad for it. Charles said he wanted to use my beauty as inspiration for his prince, but I insisted on being the fairy godmother, as they got to wear the most wonderful ballgown. How do I look? Do I suit the part?’
Xian blinked, once again thinking he was trapped in the most bamboozling of dreams. ‘I…Sir William…this is…you are…’
‘Spit it out! Say what you feel, your highness. Best you find your voice soon, little prince, or I dare say you shall find yourself a whore in Mandarin Feng’s court.’
Xian stepped away, anger warming him like the summer sun. ‘Do up your own damned gown, Sir William. I am tired of the sound of your voice and the insult that flows from your tongue.’
‘Hurrah! That’s my boy.’ William spun about, his loose gown falling from one shoulder.
‘There are a fine set of balls beneath that robe at last.’ His eyes returned to glowing, his smile that of a greedy man seeing an unprotected pile of gold.
‘Shall we take a peek beneath your layers, and see what we can find?’
Xian held onto his anger like a wolf to dying prey. ‘I’ll not disrobe for you.’
‘Don’t I know it. You can keep your clothes on.’ William held out his hand. ‘I will tell you though, that what I must do shall make you just as uncomfortable as being naked. More so. But if you will take a promise from me, I assure you I’ll allow no harm to come to you.’
‘I fear that promise already broken, I am already not feeling myself, after just a few minutes in your company.’
Laughter came from the Englishman; like that of an angel, not a daemon at all. ‘Oh you are quite wonderful when you are terrified and determined.’ He fluttered the fingers on his outstretched hand. ‘Go on then, be a brave little natural.’
Flaming eyes bore into Xian.
Xian thought he might faint with how shallow he breathed, but he took William’s hand. The heat of the man’s skin was searing.
‘I’m not so fragile as I appear.’
William must have felt how badly Xian trembled, but he nodded. ‘I don’t doubt that. Come then, let us see what lies beneath those lovely scars.’