Debts - 8. Chapter 8

- VIII -

Raven was trying to fit the key into the keyhole in the door of his apartment, but it was a rather difficult task, because Julian’s mouth was caressing the back of his neck, sending sweet shivers all the way down to his toes. “What is it with him tonight...?” he thought hazily, while desperately trying to fit the damn key in. “He is never like this... Is it because he came over right after he got his ‘fix’? Some sort of a side-effect...?” Raven moaned and bit his lip, knowing that if Julian kept going at this rate, he would simply say, ‘Screw the key,’ and push the blond against the wall right here in the foyer. He also knew that the blond wouldn’t mind that a single bit.

Finally, the key slid into the keyhole, and Raven let out a relieved sigh. He stumbled inside, pulling Julian after him, kicked the door closed, and turned around, sinking his fingers in that blond, luminous hair.

“What is it with you tonight...?” he muttered before letting his tongue to dive into Salamander’s mouth.

“What...?” Julian asked breathlessly.

“You are never like this...” Raven said into his mouth.

Julian said nothing to that; he just lifted Raven up without interrupting the kiss, and the dark-haired man immediately wrapped his legs around blond’s waist. Julian carried him into the bedroom, never letting go of his mouth, and Raven’s head was spinning. Right now, the blond acted and felt like a... “Lover...” Raven thought in astonishment. Yeah, he was looking for that very word. Lover and not just a sex-crazed fanatic as he would usually be. “There is no way he would actually...” and then Julian was undressing him, and Raven stopped thinking altogether.

This time was very different from the last several months they’ve been with each other. Usually, it would be another furious explosion, hard, breathless, and quite often, almost violent. Right now, however, Julian was slow, thorough, and gentle. “So goddamn gentle...” Raven thought very hazily, while his back was arching off the bed in response to blond’s caress. “What the hell is with him tonight...?” Not that he was complaining -- on the contrary... However, it puzzled him immensely.

Usually the blond would spend minimum time on explorations and such, which wasn’t a problem for Raven – he would be turned on to the point of aching without it, as if the blond oozed some sort of aphrodisiac out of his pores. Tonight though, he was definitely spending more than minimum time on trying to drive Raven’s body mad with kisses, nibbles, licks, and touches. Finally, after what felt like a sweetly torturous eternity, when Raven was on the verge of desperate begging, unable to handle this any longer, Julian gave him what he craved. Right before he did, however, he reached for the small letter-opener that was resting on the bedside table, and ran the blade on the side of his neck.

Then, after throwing the letter-opener back onto the table, he lowered himself on top of Raven, locking them together in the sweet merge, pressing hard into thief’s trembling body, leaving no space between them. Raven figured out the reason for the letter-opener when the bleeding spot ended up right next to his hungry mouth. He latched onto that spot immediately, noting that Julian entwined their fingers together and brought their arms up above their heads, pressing them into the pillow.

They were both equally vocal, and their moans vibrated against one another, reflecting their intonations and hunger. Then, after a long, slowly-rocking while, Raven freed up his left hand and blindly reached for the same letter-opener. Julian’s entire body shivered when he felt the small blade run along his spine, and his hips picked up speed. He moaned something that resembled ‘More,’ and Raven obliged, slowly driving the blade into the blond’s skin, sliding it down onto his side, drinking his divine essence, and bathing in his moans.

It seemed to Raven that the blond was determined to drive him completely mad tonight. Every time Raven would feel that wonderful, trembling, coiling heat sneak into the pit of his stomach (since his pulsating, greedy need was taken care of by Julian’s body pressing hard against his), Salamander would sense it immediately, and slow down to the point of almost stopping until the heat would reluctantly crawl away. Then he would pick up the pace again, just so he could perform the same maddening trick some time later. Raven had no idea how many times the blond did it, but finally, he couldn’t handle it any longer. There it was, the desired heat, shimmering and splashing inside him, making him dizzy, and somehow, Julian sensed it again, and slowed down ever so slightly.

“No...!” Raven moaned into blond’s neck, pressing even harder into his body, desperate for movement. “No, please...! God, Julian, don’t stop...! Please, don’t stop...! Julian, please...”

The blond reached for Raven’s left hand, knocking the blade out of it, just so he could entwine their fingers together and bring their arms upwards once again, and instead of his attempted slowing down, he started moving a little faster, making Raven mutter something feverishly. Julian turned his head and pressed his mouth against Raven’s bloodied lips, tasting himself on the other man’s tongue, drinking every single blood-diluted breath. Raven kissed him back hungrily, whimpering and groaning into his mouth, his desperate hips begging for more speed, trying to drive the blond forward, practically screaming, “More, faster, harder...!”

Julian obliged and followed those hungry hips, doing whatever they screamed for, letting them lead him. Then, several eons, or maybe hours, or maybe minutes later, Raven’s whimpers started turning into muffled screams, and Julian prepared himself for that insane combination that Raven’s body was doing every single time, pulling him along without any hope to last longer than a minute after it started doing that maddening vibrating, contracting dance. He closed his eyes, thinking that maybe tonight, his self-control...

...and then Raven screamed out one last time, and blond’s self-control drowned desperately and hopelessly in the huge wave that covered Raven head to toe, making the insane combination of tremors, vibrations, and contractions even stronger.

After all the convulsions, spasms, and shudders were merely echoes, Julian finally let go of Raven’s arms, and the smaller man immediately wrapped them around the blond’s very relaxed body. They lay silently for almost half an hour, and then Raven sighed and quietly said:

“Okay, get out now... I guess I will see you in fifteen hours or so...”

“Mmm,” the blond said lazily. “I don’t feel like going anywhere tonight...”

Raven blinked quite rapidly at that.

“Huh?” he said after several seconds.

“I am not going anywhere tonight,” Julian said in the same lazy drawl. “I don’t feel like it.”

Raven grabbed his hair and pulled his head up, staring into those serene lilac eyes with a small frown. He looked into those eyes for almost a minute, and finally, said:

“You mean, you will be spending the night...?”

“Yes,” the blond answered in his usual manner, with his usual smile.

Raven looked at him silently for another minute.

“I hope you don’t snore,” he muttered finally and let go of Julian’s hair.

“I don’t snore,” Salamander said and dropped his head into the pillow, shifting his weight off Raven’s body. “Sweet dreams, Raven...”

“Good night, Julian...” Raven said quietly before closing his eyes.

...He woke up at ten in the morning, and lay in bed for several minutes without opening his eyes. Then he remembered last night and the fact that Salamander actually stayed in bed with him for the rest of the night, instead of getting up and leaving, which was always the case. He opened his eyes. The other side of the bed was empty but he noticed a silver glimmer on the side of the pillow. Raven propped himself on one elbow and reached for the pillow. Then he looked at the silver glimmering object, and there was a slow smile stretching his mouth. It was his letter-opener, the same one they used last night. The blade was glistening with droplets of blood, and Raven immediately knew it wasn’t leftovers from last night – that blood would’ve dried by now. He glanced at the clock, realizing that the blond had to be in one of his offices earlier this morning.

He picked up the letter-opener and slowly cleaned the blade with his tongue, careful not to cut himself on the sharp edges. Then he got up, looked at his sheets, and sighed. The sheets were a mess. Blood and other fluids made it look beyond disgusting. He sighed again and pulled everything off the bed, figuring that he would do laundry later. After he shoved all dirty sheets into the closet (“Out of sight, out of mind; I’ll just get new sheets...”), he went straight for the shower, where he spent at least forty minutes, making sure he got all the blood out of his hair, and simply enjoying hot water. While he was in the shower, a question rose up in his mind. “Was it just a onetime thing or will he stay tonight as well...?” That brought another question. “If he will indeed stay, what would it mean? What would it make us...? Actual lovers...?” That brought yet another very logical and natural question. “Am I insane?”

Finally, Raven sighed and turned off the water. “I’ll worry about it later,” he thought melancholically, while drying his hair with a towel. “Right now, I need to concentrate on the mirror.”

****

Raven was positive that this job would be easy as pie; therefore, he was rather dumbfounded when he realized that he could not for the life of his, unlock the door of the house to let himself in. He watched the old hag leave ten minutes ago, and he knew that she went to the market, because she had one of those humongous shopping bags in her hand; the kind they sold in every grocery store for ninety-five florins. It seemed like every old person in the city had to have at least one of those. The hag was walking rather slowly, and it appeared that she didn’t have a car. Raven figured that it would be at least an hour before she came back home, and that was more than enough time for him, or so he thought until he realized that the door of the house wouldn’t even budge. He couldn’t understand this; he knew for sure that the lock wasn’t a problem – there was not a single lock in the entire bloody world that Raven would fail to open. It wasn’t the lock, he thought feverishly, yanking the doorknob with desperate force. What was it then?

“Goddammit,” he muttered through his clenched teeth, and finally let go of the doorknob.

He went to the back door of the small house just so he could get the exact same result. He was all but scratching the back of his invisible head, when it finally dawned on him. The old hag put up a protection spell before she left, he thought incredulously. That had to be it because there was no other explanation. Well, shit, he thought gloomily. He knew that there was no way in hell for him to get into the house while it was guarded by the damn spell. He also knew that the spell covered every single inch, crack, and keyhole; there was not a single uncovered spot.

Raven sighed and went back to the front of the house. He sat down on the wooden steps, thinking that he would have to wait for the hag to return and sneak inside the minute she opened the door. Yes, that would be somewhat more difficult (and time consuming) than he thought it would be, but it was the only option he had, so he leaned on a semi-white pillar covered in old paint, and prepared himself for at least an hour of waiting.

...The damn hag didn’t come back until almost three hours later, when Raven was all but ripping his hair out in frustration. Raven let out a relieved, quiet sigh, and got up, making sure he didn’t make any noise. The hag limped up the steps, holding onto the railing, and set her almost full shopping bag onto the floor, while rummaging through her pockets, looking for the key. Raven patiently waited for her to finally find the key and mutter something that he assumed was taking care of the protection spell. He was right; after the hag finished muttering, she turned the key in the lock, and the door opened smoothly without expected creaking. Raven carefully sneaked past her while she was picking up her shopping bag, and finally, got inside this cursed house.

“I wonder what else she can do...” he thought warily while glancing around. “Shit, I don’t like this too much...”

He watched the hag shuffle into the small kitchen and start slowly unloading the bag. He nodded to himself when he realized that it would take her a while – she had quite a few packages, and it seemed like she was putting them away in a particular order. Raven soundlessly went into the living room and started looking around, searching for the mirror. Magda had given him a very good description; therefore, Raven knew exactly what he was looking for in the mildly chaotic, all-sort-of-crap-filled living room. He didn’t risk looking in the drawers right now; he figured that if he failed finding the mirror, he would wait for the hag either to leave the house again or to go to sleep.

“Dammit,” he thought gloomily. “If she leaves again, I am going to be stuck here until she comes back... Son of a bitch...”

He glanced towards the kitchen. The hag was still working her packages. Raven silently went into the small bedroom, wincing at that specific smell, which seemed to be a trademark scent for all old people’s houses. It was a mix of arthritis balm, not-so-fresh clothes, and old sweat. Raven let out a silent sigh and started looking around. Suddenly, he heard the old hag’s voice screeching from the kitchen:

“Alfred! Alfred...!”

Raven frowned. Who the hell is Alfred, he thought with puzzlement, when he heard meowing. You gotta be kidding me, he thought and briefly closed his eyes. He hated cats. He hated them ever since he was five, thanks to Rufus. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked around some more, trying to push away some very unpleasant memories of his Aunt and that damn cat. The mirror was not in here. Well, damn, he thought gloomily, and went back into the living room.

“Come here, Alfred,” the hag said in a less screeching voice, filling a small bowl with milk.

There was another meowing, and then a big black cat appeared from behind the wall. Raven frowned when the animal suddenly stopped in its tracks, turned its head, and stared at him without blinking. Raven knew that it was impossible for anyone – people or animals – to see him; however, that damn cat was staring at him while slightly moving the very tip of its tail, as if contemplating whether to charge at the intruder and claw his invisible throat to death.

“What is it, Alfred?” the hag asked in a suddenly tight voice, throwing quick glances around. “What do you see...?”

Raven cursed silently and desperately when the tips of the hag’s fingers started glowing with a very dangerous black light.

“Great,” he thought feverishly. “Not just magic, but black magic...! Goddammit!”

Magic itself was bad enough, since Raven couldn’t invoke anything; but black magic was even worse – it was a hell of a lot more violent and disastrous. He knew that not too many people could control black streams (thank God for that), but apparently, the old hag was one of the few individuals who could.

He stared at the cat with silent hatred without blinking, and all of a sudden, the cat turned away and walked closer to the hag, rubbing against her leg. To Raven’s indescribable relief, the hag’s fingertips shed the black light, and she picked up the abandoned bowl with milk and set it on the floor to cat’s satisfaction. Raven watched the damn cat lapping up milk, and his heart was racing. If the hag gets hold of him, it’s going to be a hell of a lot worse than being captured by Julian. Raven had great doubts that the hag would want to fuck him; he was sure that she would rather torture him with those damn black streams until he wouldn’t be able to wheeze anymore before finally killing him. He knew that the ones who could control black streams had no restraints when it came to executing revenge, and the age of the caster didn’t matter.

He stood still for several more minutes, waiting for the damn cat to finish the milk, since he didn’t want to risk moving, knowing that the animal would be immediately aware of that. He hoped that the cat would get the hell out of here once the milk was gone. To his greatest frustration, after milk served its purpose, the cat headed straight towards the couch and leapt onto it in one smooth, graceful movement, lying down on the cushion and wrapping its tail around itself.

“Crap,” Raven thought darkly. He glanced around, scanning all those shelves the hag had (there were quite a few of them) that were filled with some alabaster figurines, old watches, and small glass bottles. Suddenly, he blinked rapidly, almost in disbelief. There it was, he thought with relief. There it was, the damn mirror! Hiding behind a short paunchy bottle and an alabaster dolphin.

Raven threw a quick glance at the cat. It seemed to be asleep. He looked into the kitchen. The hag was slowly chopping up onions, something boiling on the stove next to her as she went. Raven took a deep, silent breath, and decided to go for it. He crossed the room in several quick, soundless steps, glancing at the cat once again when he stopped by the shelf. The animal was still asleep. Well, that’s what it looked like anyway, Raven thought darkly. He didn’t trust cats; he knew that the damn things could put even greatest actors to shame. Just because it seemed to be asleep, didn't mean that it actually was. He watched the cat for several more minutes, then finally, took a quick breath, and very carefully pulled the mirror off the shelf, making sure he didn’t knock anything over. The bottle and the dolphin didn’t even shake, and Raven slipped the mirror underneath his jacket. He turned towards the cat and could’ve sworn that he saw a glimpse of a golden orb closing very quickly. A cold shiver ran down his spine. The damn cat was watching him!

“Bloody hell,” he thought without shifting his gaze from the lying still animal.

He took several steps towards the door, finally looking away from the cat – he had to make sure that he didn’t bump into anything on his way out – and wrapped his fingers around the doorknob, silently praying that the hag did not put the protection spell on the door again. He doubted she would do it while she was inside the house, but one never knew.

The doorknob turned smoothly and silently, and then the door opened in the same mild manner as it did half an hour ago. Raven threw a quick glance towards the kitchen, making sure that the hag was still in there, and when he realized that was the case, he looked at the cat again. Then he became cold. The couch was empty. “Shit!” he thought while frantically searching the room with his eyes. The damn cat was nowhere to be seen.

“Shit!” he thought again, biting his lip. Finally, he thought, “Screw it,” and quickly walked outside, shutting the door behind him without making a single sound.

This time, he decided to be smarter than he was with the medallion, and kept the invisibility on until he got to the coffee shop a block away from his apartment. He hid in the shadows, throwing off his shroud of nonexistence, and then he went inside the shop, craving coffee so badly that his hands were shaking.