Chapter 21
Nicolas
Nicolas had many fond memories of helping Julian fix up his old house.
Nestled in a nice neighborhood that wasn’t quite old enough to be considered historical, he bought it for a steal when he was just twenty years old because it was in near shambles.
The front porch had been falling in, the windows busted, the floors and walls scuffed and dirty.
The wallpaper had been peeling from the bathroom walls, the plumbing was ancient, the kitchen cabinets dated and dreary.
Nicolas, newly appointed captain of his very first—and very young—squad, had offered to help, and it turned into a team-building activity.
The whole squad spent just as much time at Julian’s as they did at HQ.
It became a second home for all of them.
They were thick as thieves, at least for a time.
Julian’s new house was far different. Located outside the city, it was a quiet farmhouse with a wraparound porch hidden beyond a copse of trees that converged around the edge of the property.
The sounds of the city seemed muted and distant, the surrounding greenery giving the illusion of solitude. It was peaceful.
The house itself was in need of work. Some of the siding was broken in places, and the corner of the porch was being held up by fresh, unpainted slabs of wood, because one of the pillars was broken.
It wasn’t the only place where work was obviously being done.
Paint cans were stacked on the front porch.
Some of the window shutters had been removed and were laying across a pair of sawhorses out in the yard.
It was different, but it reminded him so much of that happy time that his heart ached.
And then Julian opened the front door, beaming at him, with Valac standing over his shoulder and Daniel visible in the room beyond them, and the ache became a growing warmth. It was funny how things could be so different and yet so much the same.
Just like he had all those years ago, Nicolas bounded up the porch steps and held out a six-pack of lagers, this time with Ashmedai at his side. “I haven’t seen the new place before, so happy housewarming.”
Julian grinned at him, taking the brews. “Aw, Nic, you didn’t have to do this. Come in, come in.” He ushered them inside, and Nicolas took in the space, now crowded with familiar faces.
The rooms were bigger than Julian’s last house.
The stair railing had been removed, and the wooden staircase freshly polished.
The floors were old, but the classic wood still looked pretty good, if in need of a good sanding and polishing.
Fresh paint coated the walls, a cream color that glowed with warmth in the light of the antique chandelier.
“Come on, let me give you a tour. Everyone else has seen the place already.” Julian bounced from room to room, showing them the dining room, the kitchen, the master bedroom, the back patio, where the grill was smoking and Isaac wielded a pair of tongs and a beer.
There was a half-bath under the stairs, two bedrooms and another bathroom upstairs.
Every room was half-finished, scattered with boxes of new flooring tiles or paint cans or rolls of plastic.
When they got back to the patio where the others were gathered, Daniel was waiting to hand him a fresh beer.
He took it with a smile, clinking their bottle necks together and taking a sip.
Ashmedai was a steady, looming presence at his side.
Being around him in the presence of others was still a novelty.
He was so used to Ashmedai showing up after dark, hiding in the shadows, slipping beneath the blankets and enveloping Nicolas in his arms like a clandestine lover.
“Been a while since we’ve done anything like this, huh?” Daniel said, looking around. Demons and humans were scattered around them.
A squad of eight was nothing compared to this. The patio was crowded, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Even knowing some of these demons had threatened him on more than one occasion wasn’t enough to shake the fragile sense of belonging he felt.
“I missed it,” he confessed.
Daniel softened. “Me, too. I grieved for our old squad there for a while. It hurt that people I’d once considered friends, even brothers, couldn’t look past a difference of opinion and still see me as someone worth knowing.”
Julian drifted over to them, squeezing Daniel’s heavy shoulder with one hand.
“It’s more than a difference of opinion,” Nicolas said wearily, aware that others around them were listening, too.
“It’s worse now. They think you’re evil.
Somehow it stopped mattering that you guys are still human.
You believe something different than they do, and that makes you the enemy.
I don’t know exactly when the change happened.
It was like something poisoned the water.
A little at a time, they just kept drinking. And now it’s too late.”
Daniel blew out a breath. “Dad always taught us that the commander was the highest authority. Commander knows best. Commander knows all. Commander makes the call, you obey.”
“That’s exactly what they all believe,” Nicolas said.
“Only now they don’t realize that their commander is the one leading them down the wrong path.
We were never meant to pass judgment on a human being.
They’ve forgotten that. They don’t have to agree with the choices you or I make, but they’re not meant to condemn us for it. ”
Julian shifted, putting his other hand on Nicolas’s shoulder. “Boys,” he said, looking from Garcia to Garcia. “You’re bumming me out. I’ve got Call of Duty. You want to shoot some stuff?”
Nicolas laughed.
Daniel wanted to play, so Nicolas found himself parked on the sofa with a controller, trying to figure out how to shoot and not die while the others fought over who got to go next.
They used to play this a lot, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a controller.
When he inevitably died, he surrendered his spot on the sofa and the controller to Alex and ruffled Daniel’s fluffy curls as he joined Ashmedai, whose head was tilted toward the screen like a puppy.
“It’s fake,” Ashmedai said. “You control fake people to shoot other fake people.”
“Yeah. It’s a game.”
“What is its purpose?”
“What’s the purpose of any game?”
Ashmedai blinked at him.
“To have fun,” Nicolas said for him. “You want to try it?”
Malachi, on the adjacent sofa with Luke, perked up. “Oh, please try it. Pretty please?”
“More fun to kill real people,” Ashmedai said. There was a plaintive, almost pouting note to his raspy voice.
Someone snorted, and Nicolas smiled. “All right, you don’t have to.”
Ashmedai raised a hand, and the soft pads of his fingers traced Nicolas’s bottom lip.
This was what they’d wanted, right? Ashmedai had told him he wanted to see him in the light, and here they were. Surrounded by their friends, they were here together, as a couple, with nothing to hide.
His smile softened, and he threw an arm around Ashmedai’s neck and reeled him in for a kiss.
It seemed important, suddenly, that he show both himself and Ashmedai that they could do things like this around others without being gawked at.
Ashmedai sighed into it, long fingers curling around the back of his neck.
Sharp teeth pricked at his bottom lip in the barest tease, and then they parted.
Nicolas was sure he wasn’t the only one grinning like a loon.
Ira wandered in from the kitchen, and Daniel crowed, “Ira! Come and play with us!”
He smiled, looking at the television and then over his shoulder at Wolf. “I don’t know, I’m not much for video games. Maybe Wolf would—” He stopped abruptly, his dark eyes going distant.
No one moved. Wolf gently pried his wine glass from his hand and slid his arm around his shoulders.
“What?” Ashmedai rasped, looking from face to face.
“He’s having a vision,” Nicolas said. “I’ve never seen a prophet have a vision before.”
“They used to knock him on his ass,” Wolf said softly.
“Literally. His legs gave out once and he smashed his head against the wall. The guild tells them they have to fast to receive their visions. It’s bullshit.
He eats six times a day now. Can’t remember the last time I heard his stomach growl.
And they’re easier. It’s like his body is settled, so the visions aren’t as hard on him. ”
Ira blinked, inhaling deeply as he refocused on the room around him. He leaned automatically into Wolf’s side, and a line appeared between his brows. His eyes scanned the room before settling on Luke.
“Worrisome look you have there,” Malachi said warily. “What’d you see?”
Nicolas opened his mouth to say they weren’t supposed to ask that, but then he remembered this wasn’t the guild. These guys didn’t operate the same way. Maybe Ira shared all of his visions with them. Maybe there were no secrets in this group.
One corner of Ira’s mouth quirked. “You’re the one who opens the door and frees them.”
Luke leaned forward. “The kids?”
“Yeah. That’s all I saw. The door swung open, and there you were. And they launched themselves at you.”
“They were okay?” Alex asked.
“Yeah.” And then the frown returned. “But it was also loud. There was… screaming.” He looked from person to person. “I couldn’t tell who it was. I don’t know if it was one of us or one of them.”
An unsettling chill went down Nicolas’s spine.
“But they’re going to be okay,” Luke breathed, sagging back against Malachi. “They’re going to be okay.”
Ira smiled again. “Yeah. We’re going to find them.”
“Thank God for that,” Nathan said, squeezing Storm’s hand.
Talon clapped his hands, standing from his place beside Alex. “That reminds me. Jules, do you have a piece of paper and a pen?”
“Sure, yeah.” Julian fetched both from the drawer of an accent table against the wall and handed them over.