Fallen Pride - 8. Chapter 8

“I can’t believe he was up and I missed it!” Kiaza rolled his green eyes dramatically. “No fair.”

Tobias scowled at him, and Kiaza grinned impishly. He was old enough and skilled enough to know exactly how to shield his mind from the empath. To Tobias, Kiaza was as slippery as his snaky features suggested.

“Oh, you were way too busy having Jem pound you into oblivion. In the shower,” Tobias’s glare slipped from Kiaza to his lover, “again.”

Jeremiah didn’t even bother to look up.

“Oh get off your high horse Tobias, and stop being such a prude. Just because I like to show my lover how much I adore him...”

“All over the house,” Sitka smirked.

“You’re no better!” Kiaza threw a cushion at his friend.

“Yeah, but generally if you walk in on me an’ Jahke, you’re allowed to join in,” the horned demon grinned lasciviously. “You should share more Jem.”

Jeremiah grinned across the den at the other dominant demon. No one, especially Jahke, missed the way Sitka shivered suddenly.

“Maybe one day I’ll take you up on that.”

“I’m gonna go see him,” Kiaza bounced in his seat.

“Don’t!” Tobias sounded angry, “You’ll scare him off.”

“Oh, because you’re the only one who lives here who isn’t terrifyng I suppose? I doubt you told him about your and Zai’s fabulously interesting proclivities.”

“You know fuck all about me.” Tobias shot back.

“I can see your new scars through your shirt.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of Vruuaska and the crashing of the enormous pile of wood he had been holding in his jaws.

“Message for you Kiaza. From the place.” Vruuaska changed shape as he stepped across the den, and removed a gold ring from around one of his exotic horns. “Asina said it was from Nassau directly.”

“How are he and his boy getting along?” Sitka asked. “We never see them around.”

“You know he left him for his brother...”

But Kiaza had tuned out of the conversation, intent on the message Vruuaska had handed him. The ring weighed unnaturally heavy in his palm, and Nassau had always been a fan of riddles and games. Kiaza blew on it gently, and watched it glow green, then cold white, then green again. He grinned.

“I get to go teach the new boy magic,” he sung happily. “Ha!” Kiaza had just enough time to kiss his mate heavily and skip from the room before Tobias cottoned on to what he’d said. Leaving the former-human to his friends, Kiaza slithered up the stairs, and knocked on the white wooden door which so fascinated them all.

“Go ‘way.”

“Why?” Kiaza had never understood privacy, of any kind, so he simply pushed the door open. “Why are you all cooped up in here anyways? No one is making you stay in your room.”

“No. Please go. I don’t want anyone to see me.”

Kiaza had remembered what Tobias had said, in between more shouting about sex in the shower, about what had happened in the bathroom. He gave a liquid shrug, each scale glistening softly.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Everyone’s done way worse than that here.”

Lahja glanced up at him, looking genuinely shocked.

“Oh Tobias might act all holier-than-thou, but I’ve seen that boy in pieces when Zai is finished with him. He might be able to soak up pain like a fucking sponge, but he can’t hold onto his bladder when he’s been drinking. And for all that Vruuaska acts like he’s tougher than a mountain, the fluffy bastard will try and eat a whole tree once in a while; never a pretty sight.” Kiaza smiled warmly, “I can’t even tell you what I’ve walked in on Jahke doing, or what he’s walked in on me doing. Trust me, the only person who still remembers what you did is you.” Kiaza crossed the room on light feet. “I’m Kiaza. Jem and I live opposite you.”

“Lahja,” the fallen angel gazed into Kiaza’s bright green eyes for a moment, then recoiled away from him. “It was you!”

“Me what?” Kiaza ran a hand over the ridged scaled which made up his scalp.

“In the… shower… you were...” Lahja frowned, and Kiaza got the impression he had neither the vocabulary or the mental capacity to explain what he’d seen.

“Having sex? Yeah, that was me. I love that damn shower. The water’s nice and everything, but Jem heats it up like a crazy bastard. It was just about the best power he could have wished for. After all, he already had the ability to make a mean cocktail.” Kiaza smiled, “I don’t remember a lot of what Nassau told me about heaven, it was a damn long time ago, but I know you guys think sex is some terrible awful crime or something.”

“A sin,” Lahja found his voice at last, “the Original Sin. It’s the worse thing a human can do.”

“Seriously? So no one actually gets to heaven after all? Damn… I always knew humans got a raw deal; the religious ones anyways.” Kiaza realised the new demon was watching him in utter confusion again. “All humans have sex. It’s how you make new, smaller, squishy humans.”

“Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh,” Lahja had always found power in reciting what the Scriptures told him, but now he was unsure. “You… what you did was an abomination.”

“I hated Leviticus. He was such a fucking hypocrite. I wanted to kill him myself, but Nassau said not to. He and Nathaneal went after him. I gather Nassau’s brother tore him limb from limb.”

“Nassau has a brother?”

“That’s your question?” Kiaza smirked. Maybe the new boy belonged with them more than he thought he did. “He used to. Now Nassau is the only one.” Kiaza settled his weight on the edge of the bed. He expected the angel to shift away, but Lahja just watched him carefully.

The boy hit Kiorl like it was nothing. He’s stronger than he looks.

“What I did with Jem is what comes naturally to us. It’s not wrong, there’s no one to judge us or tell us ‘no’. It’s good.”

“But...” Lahja’s pale blue eyes met Kiaza’s, and the snake couldn’t place what it was which was familiar about them, “why would you do it?”

“Because I love him,” Kiaza couldn’t help the glossy shine of his words. He knew the strength of his words would make Jeremiah beam with pride. “I love Jeremiah, and we love to be together.”

Lahja glanced up at him, then looked away. For a small moment, Kiaza would have given anything to borrow Tobias’s skill and find out what the boy was thinking. He decided it was better not to ask: after all Lahja would come out of his shell in time. Instead he turned his attention back to the token Nassau had sent. Kiaza barely had to put an effort into making the golden ring float above his hand and began to spin, almost lazily, around three axis.

“Oohhhh...” Lahja’s voice was full of wonder, and Kiaza knew that for this, at least, he had the new demon hooked.

“Nassau wants me to teach you magic. You wanna?” The serpent offered his hand to the angel, but when Lahja reached for the ring, a blast of white light too strong to look at sent it flying from Kiaza’s palm. The gold band clattered to the floor against the far wall. “You’re going to have to work on that first though, eh?”

*

Kiorl sat on the bridge, and moped. He didn’t like to admit that was what he was doing, even in the privacy of his own skull. And finally it was private, because he’d come Upstairs, to some little collection of hovels crouched in a huddle in the centre of a bog which was itself in the middle of nowhere, just to get away from all the questions. Knowing he couldn’t always block Nassau out was one thing, because the Prince was his oldest friend and they’d been more honest with each other than either of them had ever been with anyone else, living or dead, but it was quite another for Kiorl to be constantly watching over his proverbial shoulder in order to keep Tobias or Zai from eavesdropping on him. He’d stormed out of the house quickly enough not to have to deal with anyone’s questions, and he hadn’t been home since. Nassau had acted as though the entire situation was his own fault, then asked him to take the new demon in hand and teach him the work of a real demon. And Kiorl knew that the Prince must have been able to see the desire Kiorl had felt for the boy who’d been nothing but a soft and sleepy shape in his private study. Now he knew the truth about Lahja…

And he knows the truth about you. His inner voice sounded so exactly like Nassau that Kiorl glanced furtively around to make sure he was really as alone as he felt. Could you have gotten off to a worse start.

It was just a kiss, Kiorl knew he sounded sulky.

‘Just’ a kiss. For a creature as old and wise as you are, you’re fucking dumb Ki. He’s an angel!

Was an angel.

Whatever. You’ve met them on earth. You sat with Nassau and his brothers and learnt all about them from Sathriel. That kid has never felt another person touch him, so you just up and kissed him while he was passed out. You shit.

There didn’t seem to be any reasoning with his subconscious. Kiorl knew everything he’d told himself was true, and that he’d probably secured himself a future where Lahja never looked at him again. He just wished he could get rid of the proof that a new demon had slapped a member of the royal court across the face. But Kiorl knew he would have to live with the stark white imprint in his fur for as long as he still lived.

And that better be a damn long time, because I’m not giving Inai control of the house.

Kiorl wondered what his house mates thought of him. None of them were what he might call close, not like Sitka and Shindae’s easy partnership, and though he and Kiaza had once been inseparable, the snake had changed subtly now he had Jeremiah by his side. Kiorl hated to think it was an improvement.

I’m a member of the royal court. I can’t tell them everything.

And yet you could do less to appear as a standoffish bastard. You’re cold Ki.

Jahke likes me.

No offence, but Jahke likes everyone with a pulse and a hard on.

Kiorl snapped wordlessly, which earned him a derisory snigger. He took the opportunity to wonder when he’d started having such long and protracted conversation with himself, before slinking down from the bridge. The panther decided to wander into the hamlet, and see what they was to do in such a tiny town.

The demon did not bother to clothe himself in his glamour, in such an unenlightened backwater town there was not much point, and he shed his clothes like so many inhibitions as he walked. Kiorl tried to remember a time before, before Nassau and Sathriel, before he’d known hell, before he’d been the major demon he was today. It struck him as odd that he couldn’t, and yet he must have been young once, because he remembered learning magic. Nassau had always been about finesse, subtlety, and little effortless seeming tricks. Kiorl had always thought magic sexy, adored the way it made the eyes of prey and lovers alike light up as they lost their hearts and minds and self-awareness. Magic made it easy to impress people, made other demons who were no physically weaker than him cower in fear, but magic was not as effortless as he or Nassau and Kiaza made it seem. Power took demand and concentration, and it was never possible to truly enjoy oneself when keeping part of one’s mind reserved for the wielding of magic. Kiorl knew he hadn’t been out of control in millennia.

Kiorl smelt the bar before he saw it. To call it a bar was practically an indictment to the whole institution of social drinking, but Kiorl headed that way, running his claws through his hair, stripping out the braids as he went. Everyone else might’ve rolled their eyes and or abhorred Atoki’s desire to mate with his lover when the Son of Ifrit was shaped more like a dog than a man, but Kiorl hadn’t felt feral in more years than he could count, and he missed it. The panther ripped the door from its hinges without half a thought, and killed the scream of the startled man standing behind a lopsided pathetic little table with a flat smack of power. He grabbed a rustic ceramic bottle from the bar, and swigged something which smelt like methylated spirits and made his teeth ache. Kiorl glanced at the barman, then realised he’d been killed at first impact. Kiorl shrugged, drained a good third of the bottle, and pushed all his energy outwards as he left the premises.

The hovel exploded behind him. People appeared from their homes, curiosity and fear written over their faces, and Kiorl grinned as the screaming began. A thrust from one arm had a little house collapsing in on itself. Kiorl squeezed his hand into a fist and the shack crumpled like so much torn paper. Kiorl watched the woman running from the house, yawned, swigged from the bottle again, then used his free hand to swipe her from her feet. There was no way he was giving up his alcohol, even though it tasted like turpentine. Kiorl’s vision swam, but he shook his head and growled as a foolish man came running at him brandishing…

Is that a skillet? Kiorl laid his ears flat back against his skull and snarled. Magic was all fine and good, and now Kiorl’s temper had slipped it’s leash, his power roamed around destroying things without direct instruction. But there was nothing quite like blood on the hands. Any human stupid enough to attack a major demon deserved everything they got. Kiorl let the man get close, knowing the human would have to look at his eyes, knowing suddenly that it was too late to turn back.

Kiorl batted the skillet away as though it were a fly. His fingers found the man’s throat and lifted him until he could stare into the eyes of the man who was now thrashing like a trapped rabbit. Kiorl snarled without words. He barely noticed as his claws opened the humans flesh, but he raised the body of the man above himself and turned his face skywards as his victim bled out, and bathed in the wet heat of his fragile pathetic little life. Kiorl grinned, showing teeth as the blood drenched his fur.

There were other lives in the village, shaky and small as candle flames in a tornado, and they would be just as easily snuffed out.