Wicked Boy - 9. Chapter 9

Kiorl ducked just in time to watch the chunk of what had been a rather attractive marble pillar smash into the opposite wall at approximately the place where his head would have been.

I knew this was a bad idea, the panther told himself, I should have waited.

Another day, his conscience said, wouldn’t have made a blind bit of difference and you know it.

I could have picked a room with fewer things to throw. Kiorl snapped back.

Yeah well, I didn’t think bits of the palace fell into that category.

Kiorl fled sideways to avoid falling masonry and decided enough was enough. Nassau had wallowed in his rage and pain long enough, and it was time to remind him there were people in the multiverse other than himself. The panther gathered a cloak of power around himself and threw it outwards, unfocused, casting a fast shadow over the room.

Masonry dust fell from the air along with chips of stone, creating a sudden clarity in the air and adding to the mess on the floor as the room cleared. Nassau stood on the other side of the room, and he was far from his usual graceful self. His walk in the garden had obviously done no good whatsoever, and his long ash brown hair was tangled and the bronze feathers of his wings dusty and rumpled. The stormy eyed Prince growled.

There was a noise like a gun going off and the floor between Kiorl’s clawed feet snapped like a dry cracker.

“You are not stronger than me!”

“But I’m more pissed off!” Kiorl spat. The stone floor sizzled with heat. “And I was always quicker.”

Another chunk of stone went flying through the air, but Kiorl was no longer there, and when Nassau spun around, the big black demon landed on him and knocked him to the ground.

“GET OFF!”

“NO! Get over it!” Kiorl did something he’d not done in more than a thousand years. He drew back his hand, clenched a fist, and hit his best friend right between the eyes. “And stop fucking breaking things!”

Nassau took a breath to shout, and Kiorl struck first and punched his solar plexus hard enough to crack a knuckle.

“Aww fuck!”

“Ki?” Nassau’s voice was suddenly soft and lost and full of pain. “Here, let me.” Nassau wrapped both pale hands over Kiorl’s paw and kissed the digits gently. The sensation of bone reknitting was just as painful as its breaking. “Better?”

“Sure…” Kiorl rolled his eyes. “If I’d figured me being in pain was the best way to fix your temper, I would have been hitting my head against a wall days ago.”

“Days?” Nassau sounded confused.

“Nas, you’ve been uncommunicable and moody for a week. Your father went upstairs.”

“Shit.”

“No kidding. I’m hearing the Northern US is having some pretty fucked up weather right now.”

“He loves weather…” Nassau shook his head. “Fuck you weigh a lot Kiorl, get off.”

The panther got up, his tail brushing bits of dust from his formerly glossy fur. He helped the prince to his feet. Lying on one’s wings rather hurt, and Nassau flexed his shoulders, sheading loose feathers.

“Oh dear.” Nassau stepped sideways, becoming clean, polished and fully dressed. “That’s better. Pick yourselves up.” He said absently to the room in general. Bits of stone starting realigning themselves as the pair left the room, cracks filling with dust and becoming whole as they passed through. “What was it you said, the bit after Kiaza was back?”

“That he recruited.”

“Oh.” Nassau’s face fell. “I think I should meet with them.”

“Is that wise Nas?” Kiorl walked beside his friend as they moved through the palace. The panther had done his best to prop up the most structural bits of the building, but he had never been very good at that sort of magic. Nassau was better, but even he couldn’t make the place look exactly the same, and the cracks showed. Kiorl sort of liked the flawed effect, but he knew it would grate on Nassau’s slightly over obsessive love of symmetry and perfect curves. “Four days passed between the two things I told you. Now you wanna go right to speaking to them both?”

Nassau rolled his eyes and folded his wings in a very careful manner. The way the Prince of hell folded his wings could tell you a lot about what he was thinking, and feeling. Empaths couldn’t help themselves, and Nassau had always had rather direct body language. This particular arrangement looked like the one he used right before he pulled rank.

“Let us play pretend Kiorl. Let us pretend that I am the Prince and my desire is law, and you are my greatest and oldest friend and will do as I say.”

Kiorl huffed.

“Does that mean I can invite the staff back, and the rest of court?”

Nassau titled his head to one side.

“Are you scared of me old friend?”

Kiorl snarled.

“Get out of my head Nas. I bite, remember?”

“Point taken. Bring them for dinner. We’ll eat in my chambers, just the four of us.”

*

“Ahh…” Jeremiah yawned and stretched in the deeply satisfied way of a man who has just been fed an excellent breakfast. “You’re too good at this chef-ing thing Tobias.”

“I’ve had time to practice.” Tobias smiled, but didn’t look up from his chopping board. He held the wide bladed knife like it was an extension of his arm, and sliced a large, plump fruit like a super-soft peach into translucent-thin slices. “I never fancied the idea of working anywhere outside of the house, so it became my job to feed everyone.” He moved on to an object which looked like a leek but cut in beetroot style candy stripes. “Plus, I was the first human. Zai said it was a good settling in thing, because everyone learnt to like me pretty quick. I gather the food here was rather bad before I arrived.”

Jeremiah stole a stripy slice of vegetable and bit it experimentally. It tasted uncannily like prawn cocktail flavoured crisps.

“What is this? And where does it all come from anyway?” Jeremiah placed his bitten slice on the surface and earnt himself a stern look from the chef. He finished eating it instead.

“The food comes from all over the place. I know Shindae and Sitka steal stuff from upstairs for me whenever they can.” Tobias opened a cupboard and Jeremiah smiled at all the tins and jars with labels he recognised. “Other things come from… I dunno. Jahke reckons there are other worlds than ours out there and they steal stuff from there too. But some of this stuff, the poplar plant that you tried.” He gestured to the pile of pretty pink and white discs. “Those grow here.”

“Stuff grows here?” Jeremiah blinked hard, twice. All he had seen of hell had been rather classic with pitch, fire, brimstone and lava. “How could anything grow here?”

“Well, not here in the centre circle, but stuff grows in the outer circles. Inai told me.”

The human frowned at the other young man carefully. Tobias had once been a person, though he was now a demon. He’d overheard Inai and Shindae saying no one turned demon was ever like a true demon, but that didn’t mean Tobias was any less strange than the rest of the members of the house. He looked, at first glance, like any other pretty, skinny nineteen year old boy. When you got close though, the scars told their tale: the puncture marks and slashes where claws had rent skin and muscle. Jeremiah doubted that Tobias had aged much since he had been given the powers to be a demon of sorts, and it was impossible to guess how old he was. He certainly sounded older than Jeremiah’s twenty four years in his manner and turns of phrase.

“And what does happen in the outer circles? Kiorl said I didn’t want to end up there and Kiaza doesn’t talk about them at all.”

“I’ve never been.” Tobias replied quickly. “But I’m certain it’s not great out there. The guys don’t even like to talk about it all that much.”

“What don’t we talk about?” Sitka wandered in behind Jeremiah, and got his hand smacked as he reached over the counter to steal food. “Are you making those crisp things again?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Dunno why you guys like ‘em. I’d much rather have real food.”

“Not all of us can drink a whole cow in one sitting Sitka.” Jeremiah raised an eyebrow at Tobias’s statement. “Jem was asking about the outer circles.”

“You so do not wanna go out there.” Sitka perched on a stool and crossed one leg over into his lap. He took a large metal file from his belt and began to work over the base of one hoof. “There’s no plumbing for one thing.”

Tobias snatched up the big file.

“What have I told you about farriering in my damn kitchen?”

“Sorry.” Sitka sighed

“Is that all? No plumbing?” Jeremiah frowned. “I mean, what happens out there?”

“In the outer rings? You’ve probably seen those pictures that guy Dante drew up. He was a bit off, but he got the numbers right.” Sitka smiled, licked his thumb and rubbed it over his hoof. “Right outside the mountains are the crop circles, where this stuff grows,” he gestured to the vegetables Tobias was cutting, “the third ring is basically a fire wall, a barrier. It’s all pain and suffering from there on out.”

“Seriously?”

“Where do you think all the energy comes from?” Sitka gestured to the softly glowing naphtha lamps which never needed refilling. “It’s why we recruit souls. Lesser souls become energy, others become wraiths. If you piss off the Palace enough you can get banished out there to go tend the reaping fields. I hear it blows.”

“You know that’s where Kiorl threatened to send Inai after the last time he ate someone in the fucking den?” Zai entered the kitchen just ahead of Kiaza. “Morning babe.”

“Hey…” Jeremiah found he suddenly had eyes for no one but his scaly lover. “Missed you.”

“I only went for a bath.”

“In lava.”

“Shedding is messy Jem, you don’t wanna have to help with that.” Kiaza pushed against his side and Jeremiah lost no time in lifting the smaller demon into his lap. Kiaza flicked his wrist with his quick forked tongue. “I’m all shiny now.”

“Smooth too.” Jeremiah ran his fingers down Kiaza’s new scales. They were slightly different in shape and size, and all the scales had a wonderful pearlescent sheen. Jeremiah smiled and pressed his lips against Kiaza’s temple. “What’s the plan babe?”

“Huh?” Kiaza frowned at him, obviously confused.

“A schedule? What are we doing today?”

“Well, since I’m no longer in recruitment, I have no idea. There’s nothing we have to do.”

“I am not sitting around the house without something to do for the rest of my life.” Jeremiah began.

“You can worry about that later.” Kiorl was standing in the doorway, marble dust in his Mohawk. “You’ve gotta get dressed properly and come with me.”

*

“I swear I don’t own any clothes right for this.” Jeremiah brushed down the sleeves of his jacket as they walked. “I never thought to pack when I came back with Shax.”

Kiaza shrugged. The little scaled demon had summoned the rather snake-skin textured jacket for his lover, and it fitted like a dream. Jeremiah was pleased, because an excavation of Jahke and Atoki’s wardrobe had revealed a single white shirt without bloodstains and Jeremiah was back in the jeans he’d arrived in. It wasn’t the look he’d imagined meeting the prince of hell in. Kiaza had fashioned himself a simple black sarong type arrangement, and Jeremiah had to work rather hard not to think about ripping it off him as they got closer to the palace.

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Kiorl smiled. “Jahke went to meet him in a loin cloth, and I gather he didn’t keep that on very long either.”

“I am not getting naked for this guy.” Jeremiah snapped as they reached the main doors. “I don’t care how powerful he is.”

“You know you don’t have to show us the way in Kiorl.” Kiaza smiled at his friend, taking Jeremiah’s hand, “I remember.”

The panther grumbled and arched an eyebrow.

“I don’t trust you two alone anymore.” Kiorl held the door open. “He wants to see you in his study. We’re all having dinner together.” He nodded to the guard on the door, a literal ox of a demon with horns which rivalled Vruuaska’s, and they went inside.

The palace wasn’t quite back to its usual quiet bustle, because Kiorl had got the guards back in, and some of the staff, but decided not the bother the rest of court until the morning. Jeremiah walked along like a man on the pavement in a familiar city, not caring what he saw, and paying all his attention to the demon that walked with him. Kiaza still moved as though touching the ground was optional.

“So tell me about this guy? What’s he like?” Jeremiah asked in a hushed tone as they ascended the stairs.

“Nas? He’s lovely, when he’s not angry. Very normal.” Kiaza smiled. “And he’s an empath remember. Try not to shout.”

“Here we are.” Kiorl stopped outside the ornate dark wood door which heralded the entrance to Nassau’s rooms. “Best behaviour Kia.”

“Fuck you.” Kiaza smiled genially at his friend, and pressed himself against Jeremiah’s side. “Just be yourself Jem.”

Jeremiah grinned.

“I have no intention of doing anything else.” He pushed open the heavy door. “After you babe.”

Kiaza smiled, his trailing fingers a promise of what might come later, and Jeremiah followed him into the room.

Nassau was not much like he expected, but then, Jeremiah had already decided that very little about hell or demons was the way he had once expected. The Prince was slender, not particularly tall, but much taller than Kiaza, with sleek brown hair falling to his waist and large gold-bronze feathered wings. He stood behind a wooden dining table and chair set which looked like it might have been produced by a Swedish design house, and looked unaccountably nervous.

“Kiaza.”

“Nassau.”

Kiaza smiled, Nassau inclined his head by an almost imperceptible fraction. They were like two cats circling each other in an alley, spoiling for a fight.

“This must be your recruit.” Nassau’s smile was thin. “Do sit down.”

Jeremiah pulled out a chair for Kiaza, even though the demon was perfectly capable of seating himself, because it gave him the extra excuse to touch the scaled demon. As he took the seat opposite from Nassau, he shuddered. It was the strangest sensation, weirder than stepping through the portal between worlds, because he felt as though someone had just stroked his brain. When he glanced up, Nassau’s stormy grey eyes were watching him closely.

“I felt that.”

Silence dropped like a stone in a bathtub.

Nassau’s mouth became a thin, hard line, but when the sensation came again, Jeremiah was ready. It wasn’t really like grabbing, because he didn’t have hands in his brain, but somehow he snatched the unfamiliar texture of the other mind and flung it away. Nassau took a sharp step back, and exhaled sharply.

“You stay out of my head.”

“Jeremiah!” Kiorl looked anguished. “He is the Prince of Hell! And since you chose to live here he is your sovereign. Try not to commit treason before we’ve even started.”

“As long as he doesn’t do that again, whatever it was,.”

Dinner served itself. Nassau clicked his fingers and a platter of assorted roasted meats began to drift around the table, pausing at each place for them to take what they desired. Kiorl ate nothing but meat, and didn’t bother with the colourful foods Jeremiah assumed to be vegetables, Jeremiah tried something of everything except for a brightly orange lettuce like substance which Kiaza warned him away from, and took heaps of himself.

“Fire cabbage. I think you are probably not flame proof?” Nassau smiled, and tore a shiny leaf into long strips with his delicate fingers.

“You are?”

The Prince displayed his arm, and the line of burning flame, not a tattoo, because tattoos didn’t glow and move, which wound from his third finger up and around his arm, vanishing into the sleeve of his tabard.

“Believe me, it was not intentional.” Nassau made an attempt at a smile. “We are not all lucky enough to get what we want.”

“Oh. Because of Mattias.” Jeremiah smiled across the table at the Prince, who seemed to him like a heart broken boy. “I’m sorry.” He was vaguely aware that both Kiorl and Kiaza had frozen in place, Kiaza’s acidic green eyes flicking back and forth between his lover and his Prince.

“Thank you.” Nassau seemed surprised. “Sometimes I miss hearing his name. I think he would have liked you. He was very forward too.”

Jeremiah smiled. He had learnt by way of his parents at a very young age, the best way to diffuse a tense and volatile situation was to remind the most dangerous person in the situation of a time they had been happy.

“How did you two meet?”

Nassau smiled, his gaze turned inwards, looking at his memories.

“In a bar. I was there to kill someone else. It all went sort of wrong. We ended up nearly breaking the world in half, your world that is, and Mattias helped me fix it.” Nassau spun his fork around his thumb knuckle like a daydreaming teenager. “He had the greatest smile.”

“Bloody good with an axe too.” Kiorl ran his fingers through his hair. “Never did meet another human who was that quick off the mark in a fight.”

“Kiorl doesn’t like the idea that anyone has ever beaten him.” Kiaza grinned. “He’s not as good at magic as he likes everyone to think either.”

“You’re a dick Kia.”

Kiaza smiled sweetly, and Jeremiah grabbed for his hand under the table.

“So tell me…” Nassau clicked his fingers to clear the plates, but Kiaza beat him to dessert with a complicated wave of his fingers, summoning the tray of little intricate sweets into the centre of the table without them seeming to transition in the space between. “How did you come to be here Jeremiah?”

“Jem.”

“Nami named him.” Kiorl interjected.

“He has a habit of doing that.” Nassau smiled. “Go on.” He selected a pale creamy white sweet which looked rather like a panna cotta. “What happened?”

Jeremiah looked sideways at his lover, but Kiaza simply nodded, shrugged and began to nibble on something which smelt like marzipan and looked like dragon fruit. He kissed the scaly soft skin inside Kiaza’s wrist, and told Nassau everything.

“I talked him round.” Jeremiah finished up. “I didn’t come all this way just to let a cute little snake tell me ‘no’.”

“You love him?” Nassau folded his hands on the bare surface of the table. Kiorl and Kiaza had become bored with the conversation a while previously, and had moved over to a couple of sofas where they were now playing a game which looked like chess and draughts and had pieces made of crystal and stone. Jeremiah looked over at the little snake. Kia giggled and made some move that had Kiorl spitting in his feline manner, and smiled.

“Yeah. I do.”

“Then there is something you should know.” Nassau’s tone sounded suddenly serious.

“About what he did to you? He told me.” Jeremiah shrugged. It didn’t bother him to think of his lover with the Prince, or Kiorl, as much as he had thought it might. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“No.” Nassau’s brow drew low, and a pained expression passed over his features. His flames burnt brighter for a moment. “It’s about what I did to him.”