“And demons have always been down for a little incest.”
“For fuck’s sake—Why would you even—That’s just—” Raum couldn’t even formulate a retort, he was too disgusted.
Belial’s smile was pure evil. “If you don’t want me to make incest jokes, you’d better quit brooding like a jealous lover.”
“I’m not—” He growled. He was aware that Belial knew exactly what he was doing. Bel knew perfectly well what the nature of Raum and Meph’s relationship was, and he knew there was nothing incestuous about it. But Belial also knew what to say to pull Raum out of the dark spiral he’d been tumbling into.
He’d never say it, but he was grateful.
A little bit. A very tiny bit.
“You’re gross,” was Raum’s final reply.
“What do you think of the art?” Bel asked, propping a gigantic shoulder against the wall. His empty wine glass was dwarfed by his big hand, and Raum wondered how many he’d gone through.
“It’s impressive.”
Bel nodded. “I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this.”
They had all figured out what Meph was doing at Jacqui’s, but tonight was the first time they’d seen his work. Jacqui had pulled them aside when they arrived and warned them that if they made one critical, out-of-line comment, she was throwing their asses to the curb. Though Raum appreciated her protective instincts, she needn’t have bothered.
Meph’s work was incredible. Raum had no need to bite his tongue because his comments reflected his thoughts. And judging by the reactions of the human art enthusiasts, he wasn’t the only one with that opinion.
“It’s dark,” he said.
Belial reached out to swap his wineglass for a full one as a server passed. “It’s what he wasn’t showing us all those years. The shit he was living with inside his head.”
Raum nodded, knowing Bel was right. Both of their gazes traveled toWoman in Color, and Raum knew Bel’s thoughts mirrored his own: hope. Hope that, since Meph had broken his pattern of tortured, screaming sculptures with one of beauty, he’d also broken through that barrier of darkness inside him.
All it had taken was one blue-haired, mostly unlikeable witch to get him there.
“I’m going to get some air,” Raum told Belial.
“Come back with a smile on your face or don’t come back at all.”
Raum shot him a look.
“Okay, so not asmile,” Bel amended. They both knew that was a rare occurrence. “But I expect you to show support to your brother instead of sulking in a corner.”
There were so many things wrong with that comment, but Raum understood the meaning. Didn’t make him any less annoyed, though. “And I expect you to pull your head out of your ass and take your own advice. Stop getting drunk at an art party. You look like an idiot.”
Belial punched him again, harder than he would have if he wasn’t half-buzzed on wine. “I’ll rip your heart out of your chest and feed it to your dog. Then you can pose for Meph’s next sculpture:Stupid Fucker with No Ticker.”
It was so ridiculous that Raum’s attempt to be angry was replaced with a snort. He insulted Bel once or twice more and then slipped away.
Stepping out onto the street, dodging a group of partying college kids on their way to the next club, he stood on the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. He turned his face up to the sky and took in big gulps of the cold night air.
Winter sucked. Why they’d chosen to come to Montreal when they could have gone to any tropical country in the world was beyond him.
I need to get away, he thought.Go on a road trip or something.Anything to get a break from the perfect happiness and contentment that was suddenly surrounding him on all sides, pressing in on him until it felt suffocating.
Okay, so Belial was still a piece of work, but god help him if Bel was the only person left to relate to.
As Raum stood there staring at the street... he suddenly felt his neck prickle with awareness.
He spun around and looked up at the roof of the building he’d just exited. The outline of a figure watching him from the shadows was just discernible. His heart began to pound.
But when he blinked, it was gone.
