14. Luke
Chapter 14
Luke
Luke enjoyed training. He enjoyed the burn of muscles in use, pushing his body to its limits, the sense of accomplishment that came from a spar gone well.
Today, he was running on the track, minding his pace and his heart rate. He’d made an effort to keep to his normal schedule since the day he’d been called into Sloan’s office about Malachi. The last thing he wanted was to make anyone suspicious. If he was going to continue his tryst with Malachi—and he knew with absolute clarity that he would continue it for as long as he could—then he needed to act as normal as possible at HQ to avoid suspicion. He needed Malachi like he needed air. Removing him from his life now would be akin to cutting off a limb. He’d never had anything that was just his like this before. Malachi made him feel wanted and treasured. He was a part of him now, for better or worse.
Malachi had barely left his apartment since the day Luke tried to break things off. He didn’t know if it was because Malachi was afraid he’d get spooked again or just new relationship bliss, but he didn’t care. He was so stupidly happy to have Malachi in his space. Malachi fit perfectly into the lonely gaps of his life. It was like he’d always belonged there. He liked looking over and seeing him on the sofa, or waking up with Malachi’s warm body wrapped around him. He was far happier than he should be, knowing it was all a house of cards waiting to fall down around him. The anxiety about their precarious situation was ever present, but none of it seemed to matter when they were together. It was like the rest of the world fell away. As soon as he’d stopped fighting the idea of him and Malachi, everything just slotted into place as though they were always supposed to be together. He would scoff to hear anyone else say such a thing if he wasn’t living it himself.
It couldn’t last. He and Malachi would never truly be safe outside their little bubble while Luke was a paladin. The guild would never abide him harboring a demon in his apartment, much less sharing his life with one, and it seemed unrealistic to think he could keep this a secret forever. There was always the risk that they’d be seen and reported, and he knew with absolute certainty that if another paladin fell prey to a halfling’s temptations—as Sloan saw it—they would suffer the same undignified end as Hawk. Banished and vilified for their depravity.
It was just hard to care when he was so happy.
When he finished his laps, he wandered over to the training yard. A handful of paladins were already there, scattered around the sand-filled arena. Nearby, one of them, stretching by the fence, caught his eye and lifted a hand in greeting.
“Isaac, how are you?” Luke said, approaching with his hands on his head to help him catch his breath .
He’d always liked Isaac. With a shock of red hair and more freckles than stars in the sky, he didn’t immediately strike terror in anyone, but he was one of the most vicious paladins in the ranks. Lithe and tall, his pale, muscular body was on display in nothing but a pair of worn gray sweatpants. He was a few years younger than Luke, kept to himself like Luke, and seemed to observe and absorb more than preach and talk—a sentiment Luke appreciated. Supposedly, some people found him unsettling, but he’d never set off any alarm bells in Luke’s mind.
“You headed in or out?” Luke asked.
“In. I have a restless need for action. You up for a spar?”
“With you? Absolutely, so long as you don’t mind having your butt handed to you.”
Isaac barked out a laugh. “Challenge accepted, my friend.”
“You should put a shirt on before you turn into one giant freckle,” Luke said as they fetched wooden practice swords from under the awning.
“Hey now, you know that’s where a redhead gets their power.”
Luke laughed. He and Isaac took their positions facing one another. All traces of humor faded away, leaving nothing but focus. Maybe this was why people were wary of Isaac. The emotion slipped from his face like an unwanted mask. It left the impression that the emotion hadn’t been genuine at all, just a camouflage.
Isaac lunged, and the spar began.
Fighting Isaac was humbling. Luke was good—so good that Sloan allowed him to work alone despite the dangers of being without backup—but Isaac moved like the weapon was an extension of his arm. Like fire, flickering to and fro with no predictability, leaving destruction in his wake. Luke’s muscles burned with exertion, adrenaline thrumming through his veins.
They were evenly matched, but only because Luke threw absolutely everything into their spar. When it was over, they separated, and Luke doubled over, panting for breath. Sweat dripped from his chin, and Isaac clapped him on the back, sweaty skin meeting sweaty skin.
“Luke, always a pleasure.” He was breathless, which soothed Luke’s dignity a bit. “I love a good challenge, and you never fail to impress.”
Luke straightened, inclining his head. “I don’t know about that, but thanks.”
Isaac gestured to the locker room’s entrance on the side of the rec center, and they fell into step together.
“So,” Isaac said conversationally, “killed anything fun lately?” That was probably the biggest difference that set Isaac apart from the other paladins. While most of them spoke of their hunts with deference, Isaac seemed to consider it a sport. It wasn’t a moral calling to him, it was an unabashed enjoyment of the act of killing itself.
Luke didn’t mind it. It was refreshing, even, to hear someone treat it like an entertainment rather than a solemn responsibility. He hid these glimpses of enjoyment from Sloan and Father Hawley, attending church every Sunday with a pious expression and following every order Sloan gave with relish. But on his own, away from their judgmental gazes, Isaac relaxed, and when he did, he was one of the few people Luke would call a friend.
He thought back to the demon with many faces hidden in the dirt. “Actually I have.” He left out the part where Malachi swooped in and saved him, but explained in disgusting detail what the demon looked like just to watch Isaac’s face twist with exaggerated horror as they went into the dark and cool locker room. The showers were running in the next room, and voices floated out with the steam.
“…just pissed about what happened with Hawk, that’s all,” someone said.
“Well yeah,” a second voice said. “Aren’t you? He left us to go screw a demon .”
Luke was grateful for the low fluorescent lighting. It hid the way his face flushed. Isaac’s eyes met his, surprise hiking his brows up. He and Isaac quietly separated to go to their lockers. He’d planned to shower, but now maybe he’d just go home and shower there. Malachi should be there, and showering together sounded much better than showering here and listening to more of this.
“Sloan wants to hit them, did you hear?” a third voice said from the shower.
“Who?” the first voice asked.
“The halflings. He says they’re planning something, and that’s why they tempted Hawk away. He thinks we should strike first, take them out.”
Isaac turned to look at Luke as though asking whether he had heard that, and Luke turned away under the guise of digging his jeans from his bag.
“How’d you hear that?” the voices continued.
“I was standing in during the council meeting.”
“And? Did the council approve it?”
“Not yet. A few of them were on the fence.”
“I think we should. They’re abominations anyway. Just because they keep to themselves doesn’t mean we should let them live. They’re still demons. They do terrible things.”
“That was Sloan’s argument, too. A lot of them agreed with him, but he has to have a unanimous decision for that kind of strike. I doubt he’ll let it go, though. All he has to do is wear down the holdouts, and then it’s bye-bye halflings.”
Crap. He really needed to talk to Malachi. And maybe find a way to get a warning to Hawk.
The scent of cooking food hit him as he keyed open his apartment door. Luke smiled to himself as he rounded the kitchen doorway and found Malachi standing at the stove with a spatula in hand and something bubbling in a pot. He liked to feed Luke, and he was a surprisingly adept cook for someone who rarely had to eat. Luke was going to get fat if he kept this up.
He curled around Malachi’s back, and the demon turned his head with a delighted hum.
“Hello to you, too, treasure,” he murmured, angling his head back for a kiss that lingered. “Hungry?”
“Mm-hm. You spoil me.” He kissed a lazy trail down Malachi’s neck, his hands sweeping up and down the flat plane of his chest and stomach.
“That’s the plan,” Malachi agreed. “You’re sweaty.”
“Trained some today.” He sighed heavily. “And we need to talk about something I overheard, but I’d like to shower first.”
Malachi shot him a lascivious smirk. “Want company?”
Luke trailed his hand down, cupping Malachi’s groin. His head fell back on Luke’s shoulder with a quiet moan. The bulge in his tight black jeans grew as Luke rubbed him through the denim. His free hand slipped in the gaping side of Malachi’s cutoff T-shirt to pinch one nipple .
“I wouldn’t turn it down, as long as the food won’t burn.”
“Oh, how convenient, it’s practically done,” Malachi said, turning off the stove and taking the pan off the heat.
Luke laughed, leading Malachi to the bathroom. They traded languid kisses and undressed each other as the water heated up. Under the hot spray, Malachi worked the soap across Luke’s body, massaging his fingers into sore muscles and working the kinks from his shoulders. Luke, in turn, took great care in shampooing and conditioning Malachi’s glossy black hair, running his fingers through the smooth strands.
When Malachi kissed him, it felt like coming home. He pressed Luke against the cool shower wall as the water rained down on them, slipping a leg between his and rocking together. Luke clung to him, gasping between slick kisses as Malachi slowly led him toward his orgasm. Those red eyes looked triumphant when he came with a cry, shuddering through it. He leaned in for a kiss and bit Malachi’s lip painfully hard, chuckling when Malachi’s hot seed splashed on his stomach in response.
“No fair,” Malachi whined. “You know all my secrets now.”
“A demon liking a little pain with his pleasure is no secret, Mal,” Luke said, reaching over and shutting the water off. “And it’s nice knowing I can push the pain button to make you come whenever I want.”
“I want to say that’s cheating. What’s your orgasm button?” Malachi asked, handing Luke a towel and grabbing another for himself.
“You,” Luke said with a playful scoff. “You are my orgasm button. ”
“Flatterer,” Malachi said, drawing him in for a kiss. “Go get dressed. I’ll get the food ready, and then you can ruin my evening with whatever news you have from Anti-Fun HQ.”
Luke sputtered out a laugh as he left the bathroom. “Shut up.”
He dressed in a comfortable pair of old joggers and a maroon T-shirt, and by the time he finished, Malachi had a plate waiting for him at the breakfast bar. He stood on the opposite side with an amber bottle in hand.
“All right, tell me your troubles,” Malachi said.
Luke speared some noodles with his fork and took a bite, groaning at the taste. Satisfaction filled Malachi’s gaze at the sound. He shared what he and Isaac overheard in the locker room between bites and sips of ice water.
“Well, that’s not good,” Malachi remarked when he’d finished. “Do you think they’ll do it?”
“Those guys seemed to think so. If Sloan keeps pushing it, the council will give in. It’ll be a massacre.”
Malachi tilted his head. “For both sides, most likely. What do you know about the—well, you’d know them as black-eyed halflings?”
Luke shrugged. “We know they’re stronger for some reason.”
“Because they were never human,” Malachi said. “They’re not even halflings, not really. They’re called leviathans. And you’ve got at least two who frequent In Extremis. Talon and another who comes by occasionally, Shadrach. They’re powerful. They’ve gotten lumped in with the halflings because they look human, but they’re anything but.”
“Talon, isn’t that the one Hawk is with?”
“Yep,” Malachi said frankly .
“You’re telling me Hawk didn’t get involved with a halfling but a full-fledged demon born of Hell?”
Malachi nodded. “Even those of us with red eyes don’t fuck with them. They could wipe the floor with us. If the paladins go in there expecting a bunch of halflings, they might get their asses handed to them. Those two have powers the rest of us don’t. And don’t get me wrong, we’re stronger and faster than humans. But they’re stronger and faster than us .”
Luke swallowed hard. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t think the halflings deserved to be killed because of Hawk and Talon’s actions. He didn’t think the halflings had any sort of plot to sabotage the paladins from within by tempting people away from the guild. Maybe that was an ironic stance to take after just getting off with one in the shower, but he knew Malachi. This halfling didn’t have sinister motives for being there, and he had to assume it was the same with Hawk and his demon. The rest of the halflings were minding their own business. They hadn’t killed anyone.
But would warning them put the paladins in danger? If the halflings knew they were coming, the paladins wouldn’t have the upper hand. Was it better to do nothing and let the halflings die for something that didn’t involve them or let the paladins die for following bad orders into a fight they shouldn’t be picking in the first place?
Arms circled him, bringing him back to himself. He hadn’t even noticed Malachi round the bar. Lips pressed against his neck.
“Whatever you choose to do, you have my support,” Malachi said in his ear .
Luke softened. He would want to know if someone was gunning for his halfling, and that decided it for him.
“Is there a way you can get me into In Extremis unseen? I have to assume they’re watching the club.”
Malachi nodded. “We have hidden entrances. I can get you in. You want to talk to Talon?”
“And Hawk, yeah.”
“Okay. I’ll get word to them. Talon’s friends with the bartender, Wolf, and I’ve got Wolf’s number. I’ll have him ask them to meet us there tonight.”