“Stay with me and do not let go,” Bel warned, ignoring Nicodemus’ words completely, and then cut a Ring into the air and walked into it.
ABOVE NICODEMUS were stars that shimmered silver and violet against a backdrop of indigo and black. He could feel nothing beneath his feet although he seemed to be rushing forward at an incredible speed. His hair whipped in all directions and cold touched his face for the first time in hours. No matter how he twisted, he could not see the moon.
He dug his fingers into the hot band of iron around his waist, prepared to shout, and then he was looking at the ground, at dirt rising to meet him, and stepped down onto it with too much force before he consciously realized he needed to. A wall of brick was before him as well, far too close. Alarmed, he raised his free hand to stop his progress, and the pressure at his waist tightened.
The secure hold Bel had on him slipped away before Nicodemus could catch his breath, and the presence at his back might have done the same if Nicodemus hadn’t reached behind him to find Bel’s arm and grasp it.
The paths around them were narrower and unpaved, wet with fog or proximity to the river. Crates were piled up at one corner. Out of the corner of his eye, Nicodemus could see people disappearing into the many small cuts and alleys, probably to avoid whatever their sudden and clearly magical arrival might mean. Most of the light came from candles in the windows above them, more than one shining through red curtains. Only one street lamp, far in the distance, offered any hint that the town government cared for those who lived or worked here.
“The river is that way,” Bel commented, probably gesturing. Red-purple light joined the faded red flickering down to them. “These alleys do not have official names. The residents here know them by landmarks or local stories.”
Nicodemus’ eyes fluttered shut at the warm whisper across his nape.
“You should hold the flame,” Bel continued, oblivious or pretending to be. “It will help keep the cold away.”
“It is not heat I am in need of, Bel,” Nicodemus whispered back, although the wind from the Realm still had his cheeks stinging. When Bel did not speak, Nicodemus opened his eyes and dared a bit more. “Nor is it what you use to keep you safe as you hunt.”
Bel attempted to step away. “It’s not my safety that should concern you.”
Nicodemus tightened his hold, then straightened his shoulders before turning to face Bel. He looked first at his hand placed impudently on Bel’s sleeve. Then he raised his head. “If Iwerecold, would you give me your coat?”
Bel drew his brows together and did not answer. “Tell me again what you do when you approach a Ring.”
“Do not listen,” Nicodemus responded obediently. But he did not want what the creature had to offer and brushed this aside. “But I have been closer now. I have been to the Realm with you. And I think you would give me your coat if you thought I needed it.”
Bel held very still and did not blink. “You have not been in the Realm long enough for it to affect you.”
Nicodemus inched closer to peer at him. “Does it affect you even now?”
“If I am inclined to let it.” Bel met his stare. “There is very little I will shy away from. But that is dangerous thinking for you, innocent.”
Nicodemus made a small noise in his throat. “And you are a dangerous monster,” he kept his gaze intent on Bel’s face, “who loves me.”
Bel’s head went back. His eyes flickered, reflecting red-purple with an animal’s shine. “What is the love of a monster? This isn’t a fairy tale.”
“How would I know? No one has ever loved me in that way.” Nicodemus’ soft admission drew Bel’s gaze to him once again. “What makes you so terrible, when there are plenty of humans capable of cruelty without magic?”
“Oh, they are monsters too. I just admit it.” Bel shook off Nicodemus’ hand at last, only to reach up to gently push Nicodemus’ glasses into place. “Where you would cry or worry or mourn, I do not. When I desire to hurt someone, I don’t feel guilt over it. Sometimes, I am even excited. There is much in the two worlds for me to take, be it pain or pleasure, and I am not sorry for it.”
“No wonder it finds you interesting.” Nicodemus grabbed Bel’s hand when it was still in the air and held it clasped in both of his between them. He thought he should be shaking but he wasn’t. “Where it is bored, or curious, or cannot be satisfied, you feel nothing, or are irritated, or…afraid for me. It knows that now, although I wonder if it understands. I certainly don’t.”
“Nicodemus,” Bel sighed, “if you knew me better, you would accept what I tell you.”
Nicodemus frowned. “If I knew you better, perhaps I would lo—”
“No.” Bel cut him off, then walked forward, forcing Nicodemus to scuttle backward the few steps to the wall. The bricks were cold at his back and faintly damp. “You will not say that.”
The flame sputtered out, leaving them in just red-tinged darkness. Bel was breathing hard, angry, or hurt in whatever way he could be hurt.
Nicodemus tilted his head up until the tips of his horns scraped the brick behind him. Bel did not pull away despite how close they were, closer still when Nicodemus tugged Bel’s hand to the base of his throat and held it there. Bel made a quiet, harsh noise before slowly unfurling his fingers to splay them over Nicodemus’ skin. The touch was nearly unbearably hot. Nicodemus was restless, sweaty beneath his shirt and coat, and yet he didn’t think it washiswant that Bel had to worry about.
“I am not in my rut. You could have me,” he offered in what he hoped was a coaxing whisper. He could feel Bel’s breath and did not bother to suppress his whimper. Bel’s thumb brushed over his pulse point. Nicodemus leaned in as much as he dared. “I am close, but I have all my senses yet. Will you have me beg while I am still in my mind? Would that please you?” Fingers twitched at his throat, tightened. Nicodemus sucked in a breath. “I find the idea embarrassing but also…also I do not seem to mind it. If this was only my affliction, I would not feel any embarrassment. This would be a choice. My choice, deliberately made. Bel,” he tasted the name, then the words, “take me to bed.”
He liked begging Bel. His legs went weak. His breathing refused to stay even. “Please,” he added, nervous and prickling with heat. “Please, Bel.”
“Nicodemus.” The sound of his name dragged from Bel’s throat almost made Nicodemus close his eyes.
“Notinnocent?” he wondered breathlessly. “Do you want more?” He had no knowledge to fall back on save whatever suggestions or demands he made while mindlessly grinding against his pillows or Holt’s hand. “Oh, of course, you would,” he realized aloud, with Bel sliding his hand along his neck and forcing his chin up. Nicodemus could just feel Bel’s lips against his when he spoke. “You don’t deny yourself most of what you want. That’s…that’s how you might be trapped this time, and how it hopes to lure me. But you can take that away and make me,” he swallowed, “make me happy. Make us both happy.”
