5. Milo #4
A distant banging brought him back to the room faster, consciousness snapping to attention. He looked around at the popping coals in the dying fire, the thin blanket pooled at the waist of his naked body.
And perhaps the most prominent thing in the room: a massive, muscle-lined, bare back slowly rising and falling.
He’s back to normal. Thank the Lantern.
Grievance’s body had resumed its shape as a man, his tattoos resting in a feathered pattern down his back. What was the last creature he’d been? Milo tried to remember, but it wasn’t coming to him.
He’d been stroked with feathers, rubbed raw with coarse fur, and slicked up with tentacles for so many hours he had no reference for what creatures had ravaged him in the night. Only that every single one of them had made Milo feel…
Well.
Milo very much doubted a sane person would be smiling and pleased by the amount of bruising, bite marks, and scratches that were scattered across his body.
I’ve never cum so much in my life.
He hissed as he reached for another gulp of his revitalizing potion, looking down to see a very obvious circle of teeth marks right over his nipple. The canines left a deeper impression than the others.
“Fucking hells Grievance…” Milo said, shaking his head and swallowing yet another dose of the buttery potion.
The banging came again, so distant Milo almost mistook it for the pop of wood in the grate. But it came again, more insistent this time. A distant shout.
Groaning, Milo slid free from the bed, grabbing the nightstand for a moment as vertigo momentarily made him wobble.
“I’m going to kill Rowen,” Milo said once again.
This wouldn’t have happened if not for that stupid drugged muffin…
Milo found his favorite knitted pink sweater. It was torn to shreds. Groaning, Milo managed to shuffle it on, his shoulder spilling out and a slide on the hem going all the way to his hip, but this was the best he had right now.
The banging continued.
Hissing Milo slipped from the bedroom, closing the door silently behind him and wrapping his arms around himself. The rest of the cottage was freezing this far from the fire.
He followed the sound, coming from the front door of the apothecary.
It must have been a true emergency for someone to bang on his door while the store was closed.
Heart pounding, Milo sped up, reaching the front door where the bangs were loud enough to shake the glass, and a voice clearly yelled from the other side.
“Pembrooke!”
BANG
BANG
BANG
“Pembroke, wake up! If you don’t open up, I’m breaking through the window— oh!”
Rowen pulled back as Milo yanked the door open.
Speak of the sugarcoated devil, and he shall appear.
Milo’s eyes immediately fell into a glare, his lip snarling at the sight of the baker.
“You better have a damn good explanation—”
“Milo!” Rowen interrupted. He looked like he’d sprinted over here from bed.
He was still in his pajamas. A rather dapper matching set with pinstripes.
Milo half expected a matching cap. “Thank goodness I caught you. Sadie just told me—well. I think you grabbed the wrong box. I’m gonna need those back—”
“So I don’t find out they’re laced with succubus venom!?” Milo hissed out through a snarl.
Rowen froze. And for the first time, the baker seemed to take Milo in. The shredded sweater. And the assorted collection of bite marks, scratches, and bruises that dotted just about every inch of exposed skin.
“Oh fuck.” Rowen breathed.
“Yeah. Oh fuck,” Milo hissed back at him. Then stepped outside into the cold, closing the door so he didn’t wake up anyone in the house. “What the fuck were you thinking!?” Milo yell-whispered into the frigid night.
“I— Well, it wasn’t completely me. Sadie had this idea. I told her it was too dangerous. But she has this succubus friend, and I guess she sent over a vial of venom and—”
“You decided to bake it into muffins?!? Are you crazy!? Do you know how illegal that is? I could report you right now.”
Rowen raised his hands, color draining from his handsome face. “Those weren’t supposed to leave the kitchen. I swear. The second Sadie told me what happened, I ran over.”
“A little late, don’t you think?” Milo hissed.
“I take it Grievance was the one who took a bite?”
“A bite?” Milo laughed. “He ate an entire muffin, Rowen!”
“Aw hells.” Rowen winced.
“Yeah. And succubus venom will fuck up a regular person—do you have any idea what it does to a Chimera!?”
Rowen opened his mouth to say something, but Milo continued, letting loose a verbal tirade that Rowen so deserved.
“Do you know what I’ve endured tonight!?
I’ve had to take three doses of revitalization potion!
Three! Just to keep from passing out—and I’m pretty sure I did that anyway because look!
” Milo hiked up his sweater, showing off a symmetrical row of little red dots.
“I don’t remember getting fucked by anything with tentacles, Rowen! But evidence would prove otherwise!”
Rowen’s eyes went wide at the marks.
“Because of your little experiment, I’ve been fucked by a wolf, a snake, and who the fuck knows what else. I’m not going to be able to walk straight for a week!”
At this, Rowen couldn’t hold back the obvious mirth building in his chest. He let out a burst of laughter, trying to smother it with a hand.
“I’m sorry.” He said, at Milo’s seething glare. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny but… I’ve never heard you string that many words together— and for it to be those words.”
Some of the tension drained from Milo’s body, and he relaxed. Then he thought about everything he’d just word-vomited on his porch at three in the morning. His eyes met Rowen’s, and they both dissolved into a fit of helpless giggles like a pair of lunatics.
Apparently, I really can have all my senses fucked out of me.
“I’m really sorry, Milo. It was an honest mistake.”
“I know. Just don’t fuck around with powerful ingredients like that willy-nilly,” Milo said. “And if you’re thinking of doing it anyway, come to me so I can help you calculate the proper dose.”
“Does that mean you aren’t going to report me to Hobbs?”
“I was never going to do that,” Milo said, waving him off.
“Yeah.” Rowen looked Milo up and down again. “You’re in way too good a mood for that. I would be too, if I were bedded so thoroughly.”
Milo blushed. “We will never speak of this again.”
“Cross my heart,” Rowen said, mimicking the motion across his chest.
“Okay. And tell Sadie she owes me a new sweater,” Milo said, spreading his arms disparagingly. “This was my favorite.”
“I’ll pass the message. But before I go, Milo… are you good?”
Milo smiled at his friend. Because yeah, Grievance was right; Rowen was a cocky son-of-a-bitch. But he also had a really good heart. And he was sitting on Milo’s front porch in the freezing October air, making sure Milo was safe.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Grievance is a monster, but I’ve always been pretty good at handling monsters.”
“Yeah, you have,” Rowen said with a waggle of his brows.
Milo’s jaw clenched. “Your pajamas make you look like Mr. Scrooge.”
Rowen balked. “They’re vintage! Sadie says they make my butt look good.”
“Be that as it may, I still think you’re going to steal Christmas.”
“You have no taste, Pembrooke. And I’m pretty sure you’re mixing up Mr. Scrooge and the Grinch.”
“Good night, Rowen,” Milo said, already opening the door to his shop. “Tell Sadie I want a new sweater by Hollow’s Eve.”
“Will do. And uh, Pembrooke?”
“Yeah?” Milo said through the crack in the half-closed door.
“Thanks for not ratting us out.”
“I’ve got you covered,” Milo said, his chest feeling warm.
“Oh, and don’t forget, succubus venom only wears off at sunrise, and that is,” he checked a nonexistent watch on his wrist. “At least three hours away. So, uh, good luck.”
Milo’s shoulders fell.
Oh, bright Lantern, give me the strength not to poison this man.
“I fucking hate you so much right now. Fuck you.” Milo yell-whispered to the giggling baker as he escaped down the front steps.
“No thanks! I’ll leave that to the big guy!” Rowen called back, then, with a captain’s salute, disappeared down the lane.