sword fights, etymology, nosy friends and pillow talk among broken glass

by Nara_stories

Summary:

Everyone is struggling to come to terms with Harry’s taste in men. Including Harry.

Notes:

I wrote a sequel. This AU is getting out of hand. I might write a third part, who knows?

The timeline is a bit messed up. The first chapter of this takes place between chapter 2 and 3 of moral compass for hire. I don't think it's as confusing as it sounds though.

Chapter 1: 1

You really want to know the details? Alright, fine.

We still had been in the middle of plotting the attack against the Red Court. I had spent weeks hauled up in that house with Nic and Deirdre, scheming, and acclimating myself to sharing my head space with a fallen angel. It wasn’t easy in the beginning, Lasciel was opinionated. I had to put my foot down that I was the only one allowed to run my mouth, thank you very much.

Oh yes, and on top of that Nicodemus also randomly decided that he wanted to spar with me.

“Uh. I am not that good with a sword,” I objected when he brought it up after lunch. I spent the morning reading up about vampires and was planning on putting that knowledge into practice and cooking up some new spells or equipment that could be useful later.

“I am aware of that, which is why I want to teach you,” Nicodemus said, lightly touching my shoulder. It was a soft and casual gesture. I had somewhat gotten used to his and Deirdre’s touchiness over these weeks but I still didn’t quite trust the way it made me feel. Warm. Fuzzy. Appreciated.

“Are you sure it’s necessary?” I asked dubiously. “I mean, I’ve always managed without it. My magic is usually my choice of weapon and it’s pretty great if I say so myself.”

Focusing on mastering a different weapon seemed like a waste of time to me. Nic took his hand away and stuck it into the pocket of his tailored trousers while he gestured with the other. I followed him as he walked out of the dining room and started down the hallway.

“We both know that you have a tendency to get into duels, Harry. And when you do, for some reason you actually follow the Code Duello to the letter. I don’t want someone lopping your head off just because they managed to strong-arm you into using a sword.”

He stopped at the top of the stairs leading down to the basement and turned to me, looking me up and down with palpable satisfaction.

“Besides, you are a knight of our order now. You don’t want to disgrace me by floundering around with a sword, do you?”

I snorted and shook my index finger at him.

“Oh no, you haven’t quite wrapped me around your finger enough for that to be a motivation,” I said, luring out a crocodile smile. Then I added defiantly: “The Wardens also traditionally wear swords and I managed to avoid that.”

“Well, I am far less lenient when it comes to tradition,” Nicodemus said and started walking down the stairs. He glanced back at me innocently, his voice taking on an earnest tone. “Deirdre and I would also enjoy a new sparring partner, you know? The sad truth is that only the knights of the Cross are even close to our level, and we can rarely surprise each other anymore.”

I silently cursed him for knowing just what to say to soften me up for another one of his ideas. It was unwise to let him make a habit out of it, no matter how innocent these ideas started. The trouble was, the more time we spent together, the better he knew me. He learned just where to prod and what type of honey to offer to catch a Harry-shaped fly.

Our eyes met. His were dark, almost black, and since our Soulgaze, I could stare into them without any concerns. So I had enough time to recognize the deep amusement in his gaze, an emotion that skirted dangerously close to fondness. I looked away.

“If you practice diligently for a century or so, it could be a pleasurable pastime for the three of us,” Nicodemus offered.

The word “century” echoed in my head. My eyes widened slightly. Not that I was opposed to doing the hard work, but...

“Isn’t this just something Lasciel could make me good at?” I asked, finally starting to follow him down the stairway. I didn’t even dare touch the prospect of Nicodemus honestly wanting me around for so long.

“She can give you the theory,” Nic replied. “However, much like dancing, sword fighting is more in your body than in your mind. You need to practice until it becomes muscle memory. More than that: intuition. You don’t fight mindlessly, yet when you are good at it, you don’t think, or at least not with your brain.”

I considered that then nodded.

“Okay. I guess it can’t hurt to try.” I stopped and thought about it. Then added, muttering: “Famous last words.”

We reached a door and Nic gestured for me to go in. Inside was a well-stocked armory. The walls were lined with racks, mostly holding swords and knives, but one section was dedicated to modern firearms and ammunition. I pointed a thumb towards them.

“Jumping on the trends, I see,” I teased. Nicodemus gave me an indulgent smile then he turned towards one of the racks and let his fingers glide over the weapons.

After some consideration, he took down two swords. One was similar to the one I saw with him on Deamonreach: a slender blade with the hilt wrapped in black leather. The one he used on the island had been well-worn. This one was much less battered, and the blade itself was adorned with an intricate pattern. The other sword was a little longer and wider, the design more sensible but not less beautiful. He gave the latter to me.

I tested the weight of it in my hand. The carved hilt fit comfortably in my hand, and the proportions matched my longer limbs well. The sword was perfectly balanced and the edge gleamed silver and sharp.

“Shouldn’t we start with practice swords?” I asked, looking up at Nicodemus.

He watched me, all predatory amusement. He drew a fingertip along his own blade, then lifted it. A single drop of blood welled before his skin smoothed out again.

“You cannot hurt me with that, Harry, and I’m not an amateur. I won’t hurt you on accident.”

“On accident?!” I complained, but Nic already turned and was walking through the door that lead to the next room. I followed, somewhat annoyed.

The adjacent room was set up like a gym, the floors covered with rubbery mats. They were firm enough to walk on easily, but falling wouldn’t hurt much. There were even towels and water bottles put out on a table by the wall. I was a bit surprised to find such safety measures in a house owned by the Denarians, but I guess Nic was the only truly unbreakable among them.

Once inside, Nicodemus turned toward me with a glint in his eye. He twirled the sword lazily at his side. My eyes followed the movement involuntarily. He looked good with it.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t killed anyone with this sword. I mainly kept it for decorative purposes,” he said.

Which did not mean that he couldn’t kill me with it, but I guess I had to take what I could get.

“Come on,” Nicodemus said, straightening the sword in his hand. “Show me how you would attack.”

I rolled my head to loosen my muscles. I felt ridiculous doing this but Nic seemed to have made up his mind and I did get some fencing training after all. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and went through the basic lines of attack in my mind.

I took a breath, then another. I gave him no warning but it was hardly a surprise when I swung my sword. He blocked it easily, our swords connecting with a metallic clang. Left, right, a thrust.

The basics were all coming back to me and I relaxed a little. Maybe I wasn’t going to make a complete fool out of myself. Nicodemus hadn’t tried to counterattack, just blocked each strike with an almost lazy elegance. It was pleasant to watch him move, even if he was fighting me.

I advanced a step, trying to change up my pattern. An uppercut from the left. Feigned to the right. I saw an opening and lounged forward. The tip of my sword sailed towards his thigh and for a heartbeat, it looked like he wasn’t going to move out of the way in time. I could have let my full weight drop onto my front leg but I didn’t.

Nicodemus flicked my sword to the right with his own before it could connect. The movement was so quick I almost missed it, except that there was enough power behind it to leave my palm tingling. I hissed and passed the sword into my left hand to shake out my right.

Nic gave me a flat look.

“You pulled that one.”

I scowled at him.

“Well, I’m sorry that I’m disinclined to run you through with a sword!”

The corner of his lips twitched upwards. That was probably the closest I came to admitting that I liked him. I huffed out an annoyed breath, feeling my cheeks heat up. He watched me squirm for a moment more than said:

“Go again.”

I attacked again and this time he fought back properly, although I knew it was nowhere near his full capability. I managed to block every elegant strike, but he was forcing me backward. Our eyes met for a second and he gave me a provocative look, then he increased the speed. I felt a surge of panic as his sword swung toward me. I blocked an attack, then another. I was not going to make the third. Before I could put up a shield, the tip of his sword flicked towards my throat.

I sucked in a breath. The sword turned, the flat side touching my skin as lightly as an alighting butterfly. I let my breath out shakily.

“Oh. O-okay.” Then it kind of clicked. “You won’t hurt me.”

Of course, he wouldn’t. Not now, not here. He had no reason to. I felt a little stupid.

“Yes,” Nicodemus said as if I just answered a test question correctly. “You see, it’s different to know something with your mind and with your body.”

For a heartbeat, he stayed like that, leaning in close. When he stepped back, I felt a little colder.

I relaxed a little more after that. I wasn’t good by any stretch of the imagination, but Nic gave me a few pointers. Once I even managed to graze his arm, making a small cut in his shirt. For some reason, he looked pleased with that. And once he had to grab me to prevent me from running into his sword and skewering myself. That just made him look annoyed.

When we took a break, I drank some water. Nicodemus used the time to examine the cut on his shirt. He put down his sword and unbuttoned his cuffs. Then he rolled his sleeves up so that the cut didn’t show anymore. The shallow bastard.

He took it a step further by also undoing the two top buttons on his collar and adjusting the noose to match the neckline. My eyes were drawn to the smooth, bronze skin of his throat and I licked my lips.

That was not fair. He wasn’t even breathing hard. I did not believe it for an instant that he was feeling too warm. No, he was playing dirty. As if my already mediocre skills needed more distraction.

Well, two could play that game. I put down the water bottle, reached back, and pulled my t-shirt over my head. For myself, I was definitely sweating a little from the exercise. I picked my sword back up, feeling his eyes hot on me.

“Shall we go again?” I asked, more confident than I was.

Nicodemus looked me up and down, completely unashamed. Maybe I miscalculated. Undressing couldn’t possibly cool me when he looked at me like that.

He nodded finally and touched his sword lightly against mine.

“Of course.”

It was exhilarating to fight with his sword slicing the air only a few inches from my naked skin knowing he won’t cut me. I didn’t ignore the attacks, of course. The point of this was practice and despite the playing, I took it seriously. Sometimes I would bring my shield up to block a strike, before counter-attacking, other times I did my best to move out of the way.

We continued like that, but after a while, I started tiring. Nicodemus didn’t miss it and like a shark drawn by blood, started pushing a little harder. A flick of his wrist sent my sword flying. He grabbed my shoulder with his free hand and before I could react, his blade was at my throat again. From this close, even with his dark eye color I could see his pupils dilate with excitement.

He waited for an instant, then lowered the sword, but kept me close with his grip.

“Have you had enough?” he asked.

I panted and held up my hands in the tight space between us. My shoulders and arms were sore, but the rest of my body was buzzing pleasantly. My blood raced, and now that I didn’t have to concentrate on the sharp edge of Nic’s blade I became acutely aware of another result that this particular exercise had on me.

It was difficult to ignore how aroused I had become with him standing only a few inches away. My chest heaved with each intake of breath and it only served to close the distance between us even further. I felt good. A little reckless. And I was done with the swordplay.

I nodded.

“Yeah.”

I waited until Nic drew back a step. Then heedless of his sword I put my hands flat on his chest and I pushed him against the nearest wall. Wasting zero time, I bent and latched my lips on that soft spot just beneath his ear. The one I had my eyes on ever since he opened the collars of his shirt.

Nic’s sword clattered to the floor. The salty taste of his sweat betrayed that on some level he was still human, even if it only showed if you were crazy enough to get this close. He made a low sound in his throat, almost like a purr.

In a spur-of-the-moment madness, I lowered myself to my knees.

“Don’t expect this after every win,” I warned cockily, enjoying the way his eyes widened.

Since that first kiss, we hadn’t done much more than that. I liked his kisses, craved them even and sometimes I didn’t stop him when his hands wandered below my belt. Sometimes I did.

I’ve always been someone who could go without sex for long periods and didn’t miss it. I guess this time I used that to procrastinate having to acknowledge the fact that I desired him.

But I did and our exercise made my blood run hot enough for me to admit to it. From where I was kneeling I could see that Nic wasn’t unaffected either. Fuck, I was never going to stop wearing jeans. At least those gave you a slight chance of hiding an erection. I found myself unbuckling his belt before I could feel any sort of panic over what I was about to do.

I pushed his shirt out of the way and pressed my lips against his stomach. Muscles jumped under my touch and he let out a low grunt. Drawing any sort of surprised reaction out of him was so rare, that I knew it was going to go to my head really quickly.

I dragged my lips down. His skin was so soft under his belly button. The coarse hairs an interesting texture under my tongue. I thought that I should feel humiliated. That he made his subordinates kneel and I was striving for him to view me as an equal so I shouldn’t kneel. Instead, all I could feel was joyful bafflement that I was allowed so close.

When I pulled his underwear down and recklessly dove in to take him into my mouth, Nic’s hands twitched by his side but he didn’t grab me. Instead, he let his head fall back against the wall and hissed out a curse in the Angelic tongue.

Wanting to get that reaction again I sucked him deeper. It wasn’t actually that difficult. While my sexual life left something to be desired, I had been given head before. I sort of knew what felt good. And as a wizard, I’ve always been good at putting abstract theory into practice. I also had enough stubborn stamina to go through with this despite the awkwardness.

I shifted my weight so that I could take a glance up at him. Nic’s eyes were positively smoldering and I found that it was worth the effort.

I swiped my tongue under the head, drawing a pleased hum.

The thing was, I liked pleasuring my partners. I liked doing nice things for them and making them feel good. Sure, they were always women – and way less terrifying – but the urge was still there now. And maybe I’ve always been a little curious about what this would feel like, I was just too hung up on my supposed heterosexuality to experiment.

It felt really good. Hard but smooth in my mouth, and Nic was panting harder than through our exercise, which made it even better. I hummed around him in satisfaction and started experimenting a little. I suckled on the head while I wrapped my hand around the rest. I have big hands so that was a way easier task than keeping my teeth away from his skin. That got me a soft exhalation. A twist of my wrist a low groan. Going down deeper and following a thick vein with my tongue earned me a barely there moan.

After that, I kept it simple, just focusing on keeping an even pace. Nicodemus’s hands flexed at his sides, fingertips touching the wall. I sped up even though my jaw was aching.

Nic cursed again. When he spoke, his voice was unusually rough. It sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

“Harry, start thinking about how you want this to end.” I flicked my tongue along his slit. He cut off and took a slow breath in. “I can hold off finishing for quite some time but… I don’t want to,” he admitted simply.

I pulled off and wiped a trickle of saliva off my chin with the back of my hand.

“’m no quitter,” I said. “Come on, let me think I’m not terrible at this.”

Then I bent forward and took him in my mouth again. The sound he made was the best thing I heard all day.

“You’re naturally talented,” he breathed with just a hint of mockery. “And this is your last warning.”

I didn’t bother replying to that. Instead, I continued with impatience and stubborn eagerness, taking him as deep as I could. Nic’s hips stuttered and then he was coming into my mouth.

As often, I got overly confident. The taste wasn’t so bad, but I realized in a panic that I had no idea how to swallow with my mouth open. I pulled off in sheer reflex and the last jerk of his dick sent a line of wetness across my face.

I blinked. Swallowed. Then blinked some more.

Wizards are acutely aware of the inherent power of everything that belongs to a person. Hair, nail clippings, blood… it can all be traced back to us. Used for or against us. You have to be careful of these things. And well, other bodily fluids fall in the same category.

It probably explained the strange, aroused fascination I felt kneeling there with Nic’s release on my face. Part anointed and claimed, part served something that held power over him. Maybe I was overthinking things. It was hot as hell.

I made a strangled sound. That must have conveyed some of my feelings because Nic tackled me to the floor. He crouched over me and unceremoniously stuck his hand into my pants. That was going to be enough and he knew it.

He bent down with a grin and licked some of his seed off my face while his fingers closed around my shaft. I keened and arched up, clutching hard at his shoulders in an attempt to stay still. Like some big, playful predator he licked across my lips.

I chased his mouth until he kissed me properly. He pinned me to the floor, pumping his hand and kissing me hard. It didn’t take long before I was coming apart in his hands, just as easily as the first time around.

I gasped for air, dazed and sated. My limbs felt like lead but I had nothing to complain about. I would have been perfectly happy to keep laying there for a while.

“There was a subtext I missed with this sword fighting business, wasn’t there?” I mused.

Nic’s warm laugh echoed in my head for the rest of the day.

***

When I got back to Chicago, one of the first things I did was went and checked on Molly.

I dreaded another confrontation with her father, but she was my apprentice and in the eyes of the White Council I was responsible for her in ways in which even Michael could not be. With my luck, of course, it was my old friend who opened the door.

“Harry.”

Michael’s smile was warm, but I noticed he didn’t move from the door nor did he invite me in. The cane in his hand looked out of place. That hand was used to wielding a sword. Guilt hit me instantly, hard like a moving train. It was my fault that he got hurt. I asked for his help one too many times, and yet here I was back at his door again trying to have my way.

“Ehm, Michael!” I hated how awkward my voice sounded like I was caught doing something I shouldn’t have been. “How are you?”

“Physically better each day,” he replied calmly while I felt wretched that he got injured because of a man who was quickly becoming my closest ally. It was as if I betrayed him, even though I hadn’t broken any promise nor did I act against him. Never mind, that our disagreement had been the final straw that led me to go with Nic in the first place.

Oh God, and Shiro… What would Shiro think of me now?

I tried furiously to shove these thoughts away.

Michael smiled a little sadly like he could see straight through my interior, right down to my inner turmoil.

“The Lord is with me in my heart and I’m at peace,” he said.

I nodded dumbly, took a deep breath, and braced myself.

“I wondered if I could speak to Molly. I wanted to see how she’s doing… magically, you know.”

Michael’s smile melted away. He didn’t look angry, just very tired.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said carefully.

Something in my chest twisted. Oh, so this is how it was. Suddenly, I was able to name the emotion lurking in his expression. Pity. My stomach dropped.

He knew. Or at least strongly suspected. Maybe an angel visited him in his dream and told him I was in bed with the enemy now. I gritted my teeth.

Of course, Michael wouldn’t be angry with me. In his eyes, I was just a fool who succumbed to temptation. My mistakes weren’t my fault, but I couldn’t be trusted anymore nor could I be taken seriously.

“I took responsibility for teaching her, Michael,” I said as calmly as I could. “If I don’t keep my promise and make sure she uses her magic for good then the Council…”

I could not finish that sentence while looking her father in the eye. It was hard to believe that I needed to explain this. Michael, out of all people should have understood the weight of this situation. I could accept that he didn’t like my new allegiances but why couldn’t he see that I was just trying to honor the commitment I made to her daughter?

“Or she could stop pursuing magic – as her mother did,” Michael replied quietly, “and you both stay out of trouble. I don’t see how the White Council could have an objection to that. Provided that you don’t get mixed up in something that could reflect badly on her,” he added with a pointedly raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” I snapped, suddenly furious. Just not on my own but on Molly’s behalf. “And what does Molly have to say on the matter? I doubt that she is okay with giving up her powers.”

The connection between a wizard and their magic was hard to explain and even harder to understand for people who didn’t have magic. I was faced with the dilemma before. I could have given up Lasciel’s coin and my magic to get rid of her shadow, but it would have felt like cutting out a piece of me. Molly was even more sensitive and much younger. She knew the things that lurked in the city and while she wasn’t good at combat magic, I bet not practicing made her feel utterly powerless. My heart hurt for her.

Michael’s face hardened.

“I am her father and this is not something I will discuss with you, Harry. However,” he added, “if you would like to take your dog home…”

Dammit. Michael knew just what to say to disarm me before I could explode. Another wave of guilt doused the fires of my anger.

“Ehm… no,” I stammered. “No, if Mouse could stay, that would be… I mean, if I’m not able to be here for Molly, then at least… he can. I know he like… eats a lot but surely you don’t have an objection to having a foo dog in your household…”

I trailed off with an awkward smile. I missed Mouse, of course, but after the way he behaved towards Nicodemus – or rather Anduriel – I couldn’t risk taking him home. I feared he would react the exact same way to me and Lasciel and honestly, experiencing that would have broken my heart.

“I don’t,” Michael agreed, “but I can’t help feeling that him being a temple dog is exactly why you don’t want him around. Harry, I have to ask: did you pick up the coin?”

Whether an angel told him or not, he wanted to hear it from me. Just great.

“I mean. Technically, I had picked it up a long time ago, Michael, you know so that little Harry didn’t,” I answered pointedly. Then, my mouth kept running on autopilot. “When Nic so rudely just tossed it out the fucking car window like a cigarette butt because he can’t take no for an answer…”

There was bristling indignation in the back of my head that wasn’t my own. Over the last few weeks, I had perfected the mental equivalent of a kick in the shin and I applied it liberally towards my Fallen.

“Harry,” Michael gave me a benevolently disappointed look. “Is Lasciel’s coin currently on your person?”

I swallowed and folded my arms in front of my chest.

“I… I won’t lie to you, Michael. I want you to know that. So. Yes. It is,” I admitted. “Are you going to pick up your sword one more time for my sake?”

The question was only partly a jab. I didn’t want to fight Michael, and definitely not to the death. I bet even injured he would be a formidable opponent and one sparring match with Nic only improved my skills a little. Besides, even if I could, I didn’t want to harm him. He shook his head.

“No. I wouldn’t do that Harry unless you gave me a good reason to,” he assured me. “And even then, it is not my sword anymore.”

He gave me a calm, level look.

“For that matter, I will tell you that neither one of the Holy Swords are here in this house. And I will not tell you where they are.”

I stared at him, cold fury rising in my chest. Oh, so this is how it was?

“Michael, you can’t possibly think that’s why I came here,” I hissed, hurt and angry.

Michael shrugged a little apologetically.

“You have a fallen angel in your mind. You have aligned yourself with my enemies. The best thing I can do for you is to tell you that if you would like to surrender the coin to me, then as your friend, I would gladly perform that service,” he added.

I just stared at him for a few long seconds.

“You think that’s what friends are for? Go—” I bit down on that curse on reflexive courtesy and hissed out a word instead that wasn’t less foul but Michael couldn’t understand and take offense at least. Lash had been teaching me all the juicy ancient curse words lately.

“It’s still me Michael! Can’t you see that? Yes, with a passenger, so to speak, but—”

“And you are working for Nicodemus,” he interjected.

“It’s more like… a partnership really. He helps me, I help him, you know. And he’s...”

I trailed off. Michael waited. What could I say to him?

That Nic was funny? That he hadn’t pushed me, simply volunteered to get rid of our mutual enemies? That instead of sacrificing babies or whatever Michael thought we were doing in the evenings, we just sat on the couch, talked about things and sometimes he would kiss me?

I fidgeted under Michael’s gaze.

“You know me, Michael, I wouldn’t just do what he tells me to. Never. But he...” Michael’s expression didn’t waver. I sighed, my voice turning bitter. ”I guess, it doesn’t matter, does it? Because as long as I have the coin and work with him you will always see me as you see him. Good thing you are all about protecting free will, right? Can’t you possibly believe I’m with him out of my own free will?”

It might have come out with a little more desperation than intended. Michael raised his eyebrows.

“With him?”

I pointed a finger at him.

“No,” I said firmly. “No, Michael. This is not a place for your divine intuition. It shouldn’t make a difference whether… and with all due respect,” I continued, more hysterical by the second, “it’s none of your business, actually.”

I shut up abruptly before I could incriminate myself further. Michael studied my face calmly.

“You are right,” he said, “the exact nature of your relationship doesn’t make a difference, because I cannot in good conscience let you speak to my daughter. I’m sorry, Harry, but if you are so committed to him, I… “

He trailed off and looked pained. I sighed.

“I get it,” I replied in a small voice.

And I did. On an intellectual level, I understood it. Yet, I still couldn’t believe that he thought I would ever hurt him or Molly. I left in a hurry before the conversation could get any uglier.

***

I ran a few errands, and to my surprise, when I got home, my apartment wasn’t empty.

There were a limited number of people who had access to bypass my wards. These were mostly meant for emergency purposes. Standing by my front door generally wasn’t life insurance. It was better if some people were able to let themselves in.

To the Archleones it was with a different consideration that I’ve given bypass. I just really really didn’t want anyone to see them standing around by my apartment. It would have invited all kinds of complications, not to mention collateral damage to innocent bystanders.

What I failed to take into consideration was that the newest people on my whitelist might conflict with some of the people already on there. So I was a little alarmed to find both Deirdre and Molly in my living room.

My apprentice was sitting on my couch, sipping a Coke, watching Deirdre with obvious interest. Deirdre, for her part, was methodically picking through my bookshelves.

“Uh. Hi,” I said intelligently.

“Harry!”

To my surprise, Molly practically flung herself into me, almost spilling Coke on me in the process.

“Jesus, careful, Grasshopper,” I said, but hugged her back. “What are you doing here? I just spoke to your dad, and…”

She pulled back, frowning, and blushed at the same time.

“Yeah, I know. I heard, that’s why I came.”

Deirdre looked at us over her shoulder.

“Grasshopper?” she asked in a teasing tone.

Molly reddened further. I gave Deirdre a hard look.

“And what are you doing here, Dee? Didn’t expect to see you, and honestly, I don’t like the idea of you being alone with my apprentice.” I looked at Molly. “Don’t let that cute face fool you, she can eat you alive.”

Deirdre turned fully towards us, clutching a dog-eared paperback to her chest, and fluttered her eyelashes. She had full, long lashes just like her father, but Nic would have never been able to pull that move off.

“But Harry,” she pouted, “I would never hurt a girl. I thought out of all people, you would understand that.”

She had the audacity to wink at Molly, who in turn, giggled. At my expense. I sighed.

“I guess if she hasn’t tried to eat you yet, then she doesn’t really feel like it,” I muttered. Anyway.

“How much did you hear?” I asked Molly, slightly worried about her answer.

“Just the end.” Molly shrugged. She threw herself down on the couch again. “Dad has been keeping me hostage. When I heard your voice, I made a veil and sneaked down.” She took a sip of Coke. “So what, you got a boyfriend and now my dad thinks you’re demonic?”

“It’s not because he’s my boy— Hell’s Bell’s Molly, I can’t call him my boyfriend!” I ran a hand through my hair in exasperation. “He’s way too old to be referred to as a ‘boy’ in any capacity,” I muttered.

Molly looked impressed.

“I could offer you some other words you could call him,” she said with a cheeky smile.

“It wouldn’t bother me, Harry,” Deirdre chimed in, her Cheshire cat grin matching Molly’s, “you know I call him Father and not Dad or—“

“The point is,” I raised my voice before she could finish that sentence, much to both of their amusement – damn these girls, “that your dad’s issue, Molly, is that the two of them are adversaries and not that he’s a man.”

He might have nudged me towards marrying a woman once or twice but Michael never gave me the impression that he would judge same-sex relationships.

“And they do call us demons,” Deirdre added, drawing my and Molly’s attention. Maybe it was her Fallen. I learned that their voices were sometimes indistinguishable. “Which is semantically and operationally inaccurate,” Deirdre continued, definitely in her own voice now with a little elegant shrug that reminded me a lot of Nic, “but I bet after a few centuries you will start leaning into the stereotypes too.”

I never knew what to reply when she said things like that, with that barely audible melancholy behind her words. So as often I took the path of levity.

“You think I’ll last that long?”

First Nic and now her, implying that they planned long-term with me. I didn’t know what to do with that. Deirdre smiled at me.

“Of course. Father is smitten with you.”

I scoffed.

“Which, if I remember correctly, comes from the Old English word for beating the shit out of someone, so it’s not necessarily a compliment.”

She threw back her head and laughed. I smothered a smile too. I was always proud when I made her laugh.

“No, actually, in Old English the word meant ‘smear’ or ‘defile’,” she informed me. “The meaning of striking someone only came a bit later. And I meant it in the modern sense.” She gave me a slow up and down. “Although I guess the Old English is also fitting, is it not?”

My cheeks heated up.

“Whatever. Deedee, you didn’t come here just to tease me. What’s up?”

Her gaze shifted to Molly, calculating. Then she seemed to make up her mind and spoke.

“Father wanted me to ask you if you will join us for dinner. And told me that you shouldn’t plan too much for next week. We might be out of town.”

My heart thumped with excitement. And so it was time to move against the Red Court.

“Yes, I’ll be there at dinner,” I answered.

Deirdre nodded and held up my book. It was some kind of fantasy, unremarkable enough that I didn’t remember the details. I tore through these things so fast, at least I had before my life started having so many supernatural crisis in it.

“Can I borrow this?” she asked.

“Of course,” I replied. “Just don’t get blood on it.”

She stepped up to me and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. I didn’t put up a fight. Getting used to her affections was ridiculously easy.

When she pulled back I noticed Molly looking back and forth between us. Deirdre noticed it too. She tilted her head to one side like a curious animal. Then stepping up to Molly she leaned in close and tucked a purple strand of hair behind her ear.

“Aw, jealousy doesn’t suit you, love. Father has been hogging Harry for a while now but I assure you we don’t mind sharing.”

Then with that unsettling sentence hanging in the air she gracefully left, leaving Molly and me in awkward silence. I cleared my throat.

“So… uh. You know what, let me get a Coke too first.”

I did, and by the time I got back to the living room, the atmosphere eased a little. I leaned my hip against the doorframe.

Molly looked up at me.

“I… I thought maybe that’s why you stayed away,” she said, voice small.

I remembered being her age and being convinced the world spun around me. It would have been a lie to say that Molly’s infatuation had never made me uncomfortable. But I made a point of working through it because I thought doing anything else would do more harm. And maybe her heart wasn’t ready to accept that nothing would ever happen between us but I knew I could trust her to respect my choices, so we made it work. I smiled at her.

“Not at all, Grasshopper. Things have been a little complicated lately.”

Molly nodded. Then she asked:

“Will you keep teaching me?”

“Molly…” I sighed. “Do you really want to give more reasons for your dad to kill me?”

“You promised, Harry,” she said, blue eyes pleading. “I don’t want the Council to…” she shuddered and I got a visceral flashback to the Doom of Damocles hanging above my head. No. I couldn’t let her deal with that alone. I wouldn’t.

“I guess it’s much like with sex, that abstinence just doesn’t work,” I muttered.

She blushed and choked out a laugh. I grinned back at her. Knowing that she… wanted me at some point never made me think less of her. Nor was I so afraid of her desire to violently push her away. I did my best to be a good friend, and a good mentor to her. And if someone thought I was behaving inappropriately just because I cared for her, they could go to Hell.

In that sense, maybe Deirdre was right, and I was already willing to play the demon.

I rubbed my hand across my face. Michael was going to murder me. Screw that, Charity was going to murder me.

Yet, I couldn’t refuse Molly what I thought was her right. To be taught, with kindness, compassion, and discipline how to use her natural talents.

I looked at Molly.

“Alright, Grasshopper. First, I’m going to tell you why your dad doesn’t want me around anymore. Then you can make an informed decision if you still want me to teach you. And if you do, then I will.”

Chapter 2: 2

And then we went and wiped out the entire Red Court. That was just the story of my life, apparently.

Since I disappeared from Chicago again, this time to South America, Molly sure had time to think about whether she wanted me to keep teaching her. She did, by the way, and so when I got back again, we started covertly meeting again, even if it made me look over my shoulder often to check if Charity was there ready to swing a frying pan.

I also met up with Murphy. It was good to see her again. We haven’t seen each other in a while, both being busy, she with law enforcement, me with well… supernatural war. She did come and feed Mister while I was away, but we couldn’t catch each other in person and the only way I was able to thank her was with a handwritten note and a box of her favorite brand of chocolates.

So I made a point of inviting her out for a coffee. I knew a place that also sold excellent doughnuts, so we indulged in one each. Sprinkles for me and a glazed one for her.

“Coffee and doughnuts, you’re living the stereotype, Murph,” I joked.

Part of me was afraid that she would notice I had been up to no good. It wasn’t even that I wanted to deceive her, of course not. Rather, I feared that something was fundamentally different about me than the last time we met. That I was corrupted somehow and she could tell.

But that was not the type of change she noticed. She snorted and looked me up and down above the rim of her cup.

“You look well,” she stated with a very pointed intonation.

I rubbed the back of my head self-consciously. I’ve gotten a much-needed haircut and I was also forcibly taken on a shopping trip because Nic hated to be seen with someone who didn’t look fashionable or at least put-together and Deirdre simply enjoyed my suffering. I refused most things tailored but conceded myself to their fashion taste and walked away from it with a new wardrobe. I wasn’t wearing anything fancy now, just a pair of black jeans and a graphic t-shirt but they were new and they fit me well.

I also had a second necklace, a simple leather cord with a few wooden beads in the middle – a token from our trip to South America. After the fight the three of us stayed in the area for a while, just doing surprisingly mundane touristy things. It was strange, but I also hadn’t had a proper holiday in ages and sue me, I even enjoyed the company.

We visited more ancient sites and Nic told stories about their history. Things that you just couldn’t get from textbooks both because they related to supernatural history and because the tales have been lost to time. It was a different situation though if you lived through those times and remembered.

We ate good food and listened to street musicians while sharing a drink. On some nights Nic took Deirdre into his room and I tried to shut out their sighs from behind the closed door. On other nights the two of us would sit on the porch in the dark and Nic would kiss me until my lips were sore and maybe we got a little handsy.

The necklace came from one of those tourist-trap booths. It was a little tribal, but not so much it would have clashed with the average North American’s taste whose money it was supposed to charm out of their pockets. I never would have bought it. In fact, I didn’t buy it. It was a spur-of-the-moment gift from Nic, a surprisingly sweet gesture, so I accepted it ignoring the possessive streak in it, and had been wearing it since. The beads made a nice sound as they clinked against my silver pentacle. And besides, with my lifestyle, it wouldn’t last too long. In a month or two something or other would probably rip it off my neck or it would get water damage.

It wasn’t like I was going to carry his token around for long. I surfaced from my memories, hoping I didn’t have a goofy smile on my face.

“You think so?” I asked Murphy carefully.

Murphy took a closer look at me, then she gasped and gave me a wicked smile.

“Oh my God, Harry, you’ve gotten laid.”

I replied with a nervous laugh. I was perhaps naive to think it didn’t show. Of course the how and with whom made this more of a sensitive topic than it already was, but I didn’t want to lie to her.

“Not quite,” I protested and took a big bite of doughnut to shut my stupid mouth.

We haven’t gotten to the actual laying part with Nic. I might still had a few hang-ups on that front and if he was impatient it didn’t show.

Murphy arched a blonde eyebrow at me playfully.

“But getting there?” She offered. “Someone definitely has kissed you senseless in the last forty-eight hours.”

I almost choked on my doughnut. She was not wrong.

“Is your keen detective sense telling you that?” I croaked out after fighting the bite down.

“Sort of.”

“Yeah…” I admitted with an eye roll.

Murphy’s smile widened.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head decisively.

“Sorry, Murph, it’s… kind of new.”

That wasn’t a lie. Murphy nodded.

“Taking things slowly, I get it. Very sensible.” She took a bite out of her doughnut. I knew she wasn’t the one to take things slow so I wasn’t sure if she was making fun of me. Her eyes sparkled, but she let it go.

“You know, I was going to ask you if you were free on Friday,” she said, changing the topic.

I gave her a teasing grin.

“Oh, so being taken makes me more attractive to women? Am I going to get more date offers now? I should have known that years ago.”

I was joking, but then it hit me with full force. I considered myself taken. By Nicodemus. I certainly didn’t feel like dating anyone else. The blush I had been fighting off in the past few minutes was back.

On one hand, it made sense. I was the devoted type. On the other hand, it was a horrifying realization given whom we were talking about. I shoved some more sweet goodness into my mouth to cope.

“You’re a pig, Dresden,” Murphy informed me. “It wouldn’t be a date, I need you as a consultant.”

She told me there was a fundraiser gala, one of those fancy ones, and a suspect of her would be there.

“I need to know if we’re dealing with a supernatural threat or not,” she explained. “I don’t need to handle this one myself if it isn’t but I can’t live with sending in vanilla cops blindly.”

I nodded.

“Of course, Murph. I would gladly help.” I furrowed my brows. “I actually have a suit now,” I realized, extremely proudly.

“Look at you, Harry. I never thought I would live long enough to see that.” She took a sip of coffee. “Sometimes I seriously thought you wouldn’t live long enough to own a suit.”

***

I tried really hard not to think about my “revelation”. If I could even call it that. My inner freak-out was absurd. We waged a war against vampires together with Nicodemus. I sucked his dick. And here I was having a crisis that I didn’t want to date beautiful women at the moment, actually, thank you for asking.

Not thinking about it worked so well that I was totally jittery that night when once again I had dinner with my two favorite lunatics. After dinner Deirdre headed out to some kind of party, Nic lit a pipe and put on a record and I could not sit still, so I paced the room instead, peering at objects.

“Who is Dee terrorizing tonight?” I asked casually, picking up a vase. I think Nic looted Chichen Itza while I wasn’t looking. I could swear some of this stuff wasn’t here when we left.

Nic shrugged.

“I think she headed to a club. Sometimes she is a little bored with my taste in music. Sometimes, she also prefers female company.“

I glanced back at him. The album was a mellow jazzy number with saxophone and strings. Not revolutionary, but pleasant.

“Of course,” I mumbled. “Apple. Tree.”

Nicodemus laughed. I thought his taste in music was just fine. I also wouldn’t have preferred female company, as much as it pained me to admit. Lasciel snorted in the back of my head.

“You’re so dumb, Harry,” she whispered.

“Gee, thanks,” I thought in her direction.

She had a point though. It was a bit late to get cold feet now. Man up, Dresden, I thought.

So I put down the vase of questionable origin, turned towards Nicodemus, and did what my corny, romantic ass would have done in this scenario if I was hauled up in a cozy house after dinner, all alone with someone I desired. If they weren’t male or the crazy leader of a murderous fallen angel cult.

“I think the music’s great. Wanna dance?”

Nic blinked. I managed to surprise him. His smile turned charmed. He abandoned his pipe in favor of sliding his hand into mine.

“Gladly.”

I pulled him up from the couch and wrapped my arms around him. I was only marginally better at dancing and I have never danced with a man. For a moment I was so startled by the feel of his form, I almost stumbled over my own feet in awkwardness. My heart was pounding. Then, my hand found a comfortable spot on his back. Nic let me lead with the grace of a man who didn’t have to prove anything.

I relaxed. The music was nice, not too fast. His hand was warm on my shoulder. We swayed for a track like that. I bumped into the coffee table and we laughed.

When the song changed, Nicodemus switched his hold on me too, with smooth confidence, and started leading me backward giving me a challenging grin. I didn’t fight him. Something in my back relaxed as he lead me through the steps backward. This wasn’t so hard. I smiled some more, feeling like I was getting away with something.

The needle skipped as the album ended, filling the silence with soft crackling. I stepped back from Nicodemus.

His eyes were very dark and I immediately missed the touch of his hands.

“It’s late,” slipped out of my mouth. Yes, I almost chickened out.

Nic tilted his head to one side. His lips curled up. They looked totally kissable.

“Is it?” he asked, voice low and deep. It sounded better than jazz music to my ears.

In my complete idiocy, I looked at the clock over the fireplace.

“Well…” I saw that it was just past midnight. Then I realized it really didn’t matter.

I turned suddenly and all but crashed into Nic, kissing him on the mouth. Our teeth clinked together and he let out a muffled ‘oof’. I’m no lightweight. Nic is way stronger still. He stumbled half a step back, but held me steady, his arms closing around my waist.

I released a breath I realized I was holding for way longer than I should have. This was okay. It was completely fine. More than fine, really. Our lips softened on each other. His chest pressed against mine and the tension around my heart eased a little.

Then Nic pushed me against the wall, and barely an instant of separation later stepped in to press me flat against it with his whole body. The set of motions were elegant, with a hint of violence that dislodged something in me. An inhibition or a fear perhaps.

I moaned into his mouth. Nic kissed me more insistently. It set my whole body on fire.

I looped my arms around him and grabbed a handful of his shirt. I tugged at it until I managed to pull the bottom of it out of his trousers so that I could push my hands underneath and touch the hot skin of his back.

Nic smirked a little. Why did he always look so absurdly pleased when I ruined or crumpled his shirts?

One of his hands cupped the back of my head. The press of his fingertips sent a wave of sensation down my spine as he kept me bent down so he could kiss me all he wanted. I tugged a little more on the shirt and blindly started unbuttoning it from the bottom up. I got about halfway when something brushed against the back of my hand. An instant later I realized what it was and snatched my hand away like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Nic gave me an amused smile. He pinched the rope between three fingers, pulled it over his collar, and tucked it inside his shirt. Then he undid the rest of the buttons himself.

I stopped thinking about his noose and let my hands roam his naked chest, mapping out every inch of uncharted territory I could reach with my fingertips. Suddenly, I wished my t-shirt were gone too. I let out another pitifully yearning sound.

“I want you,” I said, brain-to-mouth filter apparently gone.

Nic made a deep sound in the back of his throat.

“And I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

My stomach fluttered and my heart started beating out a fast and steady rhythm. It wasn’t that I was flustered, in fact, I felt surprisingly confident. Just also frayed around the edges a little. Giddy, reckless.

“I mean…” I drawled.

Nic matched my smile.

“I know what you mean.”

He pressed his hips against mine. I wiggled, sliding down a little, until… yeah there was a noticeable bulge in his trousers. I was far from unaffected either, and the space between our bodies suddenly felt tight and delicious. I ground against him.

“At least I think I do,” Nic continued, the amused tone in his voice gaining a rough edge. “Let us find out if I’m right?”

I nodded and let him lead me into the bedroom. I barely had time to discard my t-shirt before I was pushed onto the bed. Completely satisfied with this turn of events, I sprawled out on the sheets. Nic followed me down, and I wrestled him the rest of the way out of his shirt.

He was solid between my arms. Real, hot, and undeniably masculine. You would think I had gotten used to it by now, but this was the first time the two of us were vertical on a bed, working on getting naked. And when we finally worked together towards the same goal… boy were we efficient.

The novelty of that occupied my mind enough not to think about anything else until Nic grasped my wrists lightly and guided them over my head.

“Can you keep your hands there for me?”

I swallowed, then nodded, not trusting my voice. Nic smirked and started down my chest, laying a maddening kiss every few inches. I squirmed when he got to my belly button. He slowed down, but didn’t stop kissing my skin.

“Umm…” I said uncertainly.

He raised his head to give me a wicked smile. Then moved to grab something from the nightstand, leaving me there, skin prickling. When he came back, he settled between my legs and I made space for him.

He continued from where he left off. Placed a kiss right below my navel. Then a little below it. Then…

“Fuck,” I muttered. My hands found a pillow above my head and I dug my fingers into it as Nic closed his mouth over the head of my achingly hard dick.

I held my breath and kept very still as he took more of it into his mouth. I only jumped when he used that exquisite distraction to touch me with a slicked-up fingertip. Much lower.

He circled my rim. It felt tingly and really fucking nice. I wiggled closer. Nic slung an arm across my middle to hold me in place. I did not mind that at all. Nor did I really mind that he kept teasing me like that for what it felt like an eternity. His mouth was hot, his fingers dexterously finding nerve endings I didn’t know existed but never pushing inside.

I was starting to feel loose and pliant and for the first time frustratingly empty.

“Oh, don’t go all soft on me,” I snarked, only a little out of breath, “I won’t know what to do with myself.”

Nic raised his head and looked at me, mouth wet and eyes sparkling.

“Brat.”

He retaliated by pushing two fingers inside. Or rather, the oil helped the first digits slip in before I clenched up.

“Oh shit. That’s weird,” I said, choking on a manic laugh.

He laughed too and pulled his fingers out, going back to petting me with his fingertips while keeping my legs apart with his shoulders. Incrementally I relaxed and the next time he tried, his fingers slipped in slowly and all the way without triggering my fight or flight reflex. Then he did something with them that knocked the air out of my lungs.

A wave of intense pleasure shot up my spine, and I jerked with a surprised, undignified moan. Nic kept me pinned down. He looked extremely smug. Slowly, he took my dick back into his mouth, then he did that thing again. And again.

Within a few minutes, he managed to reduce me to an incoherent, shivery pile. Waves of pleasure washed over me, each almost as intense as an orgasm. Finishing seemed frustratingly far away from my grasp though.

Usually, Nic managed to send me to the edge very quickly with his hand alone and it took all my self-control to draw it out as long as I could. Now though? I felt like I couldn’t come even if I didn’t want to see this all the way through. It was fucking unfair that was what it was.

I pressed my right wrist over my mouth and bit into my skin in an attempt to silence the most embarrassing of the sounds spilling out of me.

Nicodemus, the absolute asshole, simply just stopped. He pulled off my dick and slipped his fingers out. I couldn’t prevent a little whine from escaping me.

“Harry, hands,” Nic pointed out patiently.

I glowered at him, but reluctantly slid my hand back over my head and tangled my fingers into the sheets. Nic bent down and licked the head of my dick, watching me with half-lowered lashes. I swore explosively, my voice sounding hoarse. Nic let out a satisfied hum.

“I like hearing your reactions,” he mused, “and the sound of your voice… even when you’re making even less sense than usual.”

I cleared my throat.

“You like me talking? That’s rich coming from a guy who removes his employee’s tongues you know?”

“I know,” he said, voice dropping into that deep, almost purring register. He crawled up over me, laying a few kisses down on the way. “You make me irrational.”

That was a dubious achievement, but I didn’t have time to lament on it. Nicodemus guided himself inside slowly, a sharp pressure that melted into a dull but strangely intimate feeling that thoroughly satisfied my curiosity. I let out a breath and relaxed. I moved my legs into a comfortable position, once again surprised at how good, how natural he felt in my arms.

Nic took hold of my hands, lacing our fingers together loosely and I didn’t even care where some of those fingers had been or that his mouth tasted of me, not when he started rocking into me.

“Oh fuck,” I breathed.

My body started moving with his. I broke out in a sweat. It felt fantastic, yet it was also such a strange, new feeling that I think my mind short-circuited a little. Suddenly the intensity of that pleasure slipped out of my grasp. I didn’t know whether I could finish like this, even with my dick trapped between us. I started shaking, confused, turned on, feeling vulnerable as hell, but there was nowhere else I would have rather been. Having him so close. Not just close, but inside of me… I just wanted more of this feeling, dammit. It wasn’t nearly enough.

“Harry…”

Fuck, the way Nic said my name made it really hard to focus on his actual words. I arched my back into the next thrust and made a vaguely inquisitive sound.

“Shall I pull out?”

What?

“No.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist. If he hadn’t been holding my hands, I would have wrapped my arms around him too. He was though, so I clutched his hands and bent up to plant my lips on his shoulder for good measure. I didn’t want him to go anywhere.

“Needy,” Nic huffed. He sounded fond. And strained. It turned his voice hard with effort on his next words. “Do you want me to finish inside?”

My eyes went round. That possibility stupidly didn’t even occur to me. But now that he mentioned it… oh.

“Yeah.” I wanted that. Badly. “And… your hand…” I added incoherently.

Nic had really nice hands if you asked me, and having one wrapped around my prick with just the right amount of pressure was something I couldn’t get enough of. He understood me and sneaked a hand between us.

I tightened my legs around him, tangling us into a strange ball of limbs. He kissed me. I could feel his grin against my lips and suddenly the pleasure was on me again, swooping in like a hawk from out of my line of sight. I cried out, not recognizing my voice.

“Yes… yes!” That was exactly what I wanted. What I craved. Needed.

Heat washed over me as Nic kept rocking into me with purpose. I realized he had been holding back. He wasn’t anymore. I held on for dear life as the move of our bodies washed the last coherent thought from my mind. I might have shouted.

The pleasure peaked, my muscles contracted and I tumbled into ecstasy as unavoidable as it seemed impossible a moment ago. There was a popping sound followed by a delicate tinkle. My ears were ringing. For a moment I didn’t realize the room went completely dark because there were stars swimming in my vision.

Nic took his hand away and braced himself beside my head as he fucked me through that delicious orgasm. Just as I came down he stiffened, and I could actually feel him finish. I shuddered with pure, sympathetic delight.

Okay so maybe I had some weird fascination with that. I had no energy to spare for shame. I tucked that thought away for later.

“Hell’s fucking Bell’s,” I gasped.

For a few moments, the silence was only filled by our panting. Then Nic spoke, voice mildly inquiring.

“Did you blow out the light bulbs?”

I laughed awkwardly, my voice rough.

“Yeah. Whoops.”

Leftover magic tingled in the air. I was used to controlling myself when it came to pain, no matter how excruciating. So much pleasure though? It was an entirely new challenge how to stop my magic from bubbling out of my pores.

Nicodemus choose that moment to demonstrate his frightening ability to read my mind.

“You know, with most people when they join us the challenge is to acclimate them to pain enough where it doesn’t hinder them. I’m starting to think we’re going to have the opposite problem with you.”

I knew there were candles in the room. I lit them with a lazy wave of my hand. That was super convenient because I didn’t want to get up just yet.

“Problem?” I asked.

Nic pushed himself up on an elbow and looked down at me, eyes crinkling at the corner.

“Why do you think every supernatural adversary wants to sleep with you?” He touched my chest and continued, while I spluttered in indignation. “Don’t worry, Harry, I will give you so much pleasure you won’t know what to do with it. Until even a white vampire’s offer won’t tempt you anymore.”

“Hmm.”

Maybe that promise should have scared me, but it didn’t. I brushed the pieces of broken glass off of Nic’s back, then just continued tracing nonsensical patterns on his skin.

There was this thing that happened when you fucked someone – or got fucked, I guess. Semantics. Where you felt like you could just touch the other’s skin, anywhere you liked, and it wasn’t awkward or even sexual anymore, just the nicest, most natural thing in the world.

If the sex was brought on by want and longing: the lack of something, then afterward you were so full to the brim that touching became neutral. Not means to an end but something to enjoy for what it was, the touch of skin on skin. And my hands are large, ideal for enjoying this sort of thing to the full extent.

And the fact that I was thinking about it like this was one of the many reasons I didn’t sleep around. Nic entertained me and didn’t pull away, resting his head on my shoulder. When he softened, he slid out from me, and… yeah that was an embarrassing feeling. But I liked his weight on top of me too much to care.

I realized that for him this must have happened a thousand times. With many people. It was nothing special. My hands stilled. Nic hummed.

“What jammed your mental gears now, Harry? I can hear it.”

“I just…” It was still hard to form coherent sentences. At least my halting tone made sure I didn’t sound judgmental. “Doesn’t this lose its appeal after thousands of years? Doesn’t it get dull?”

He shrugged against me.

“It probably would if I remembered it all in perfect clarity, but I don’t. The human mind isn’t made for keeping so much available at all times. If I want to recall something, Anduriel helps me, of course. Otherwise, the unimportant, mediocre parts will fade to the background, while the bright moments keep shining for many years.”

He pushed himself up again so that he could stroke my face.

“Like this one. I will probably remember for centuries how the first night you spent in my bed you came so hard you broke all the light bulbs in the room.”

“Oh, so you expect this to happen again?” I asked, teasing.

“Well, I should certainly hope so.”

I sighed and continued stroking his back. Yeah, it wouldn’t have been so bad if it happened again. Then from out of the blue, a thought popped into my head and it escaped through my mouth before I could catch it.

“You and my mother. Did you two…? You know…?”

I never thought of that before. From the sound of it Nicodemus knew my mother decently well. I didn’t get the chance to learn a lot about her but I heard some tales. And I knew Nic. On some level, it would have made sense.

Nic grinned at me, the bastard.

“Do you really want me to answer that question honestly?”

I tilted my head and thought about it. He was practically ancient. He must have been just as capable (and handsome damn him) back when my mother was alive as he was now. He must have had a lot of lovers over the years, even with Deirdre around. Speaking of, he also didn’t care a single ounce about any sexual taboos involving familial connections, either his or someone else’s.

But as for me… it freaked me out just thinking about my mother as a sexually active person, even just for a second. And if… I shuddered.

“Yeah, no you’re right. I don’t.”

He rolled off of me, careless of the broken glass.

“We should clean up.”

“Mhm.” I reached my hands toward him, making a displeased sound. He had felt nice in my arms. I wanted him back.

“Trust me, Harry, you will regret it in the morning if we don’t,” he said patiently, patting my thigh.

I shook my head and pushed myself up. I winced when a glass shard dug into the meat of my palm.

I reluctantly let Nic lead me to the bathroom. He picked the glass out of my hand calmly before turning on the shower. By the time we cleaned up someone came and got rid of the glass and changed the sheets. They also put new bulbs into the lamps.

That made me stop in my tracks.

I doubt it was the biggest mess Nic’s tongueless goons had the misfortune to clean up but it still made my skin crawl. I looked at the bed. It was comfortable, with crisp, fresh sheets on it and Nicodemus would be in it.

But this reminder of who he was shattered my mood for romance. My gaze shifted to the door. Then back to the bed.

I sighed and started picking my clothes up from the floor.

“I should go,” I said. Nic threw a dressing robe over himself. He looked like he wanted to try and make me stay. I appreciated that he didn’t.

I was already dressed when he stopped me with a hand on my arm. He leaned in and gave me one last slow, lingering kiss.

“I respected your mother and I respect you,” he said quietly. “And I can tell you this: Margaret was never as close to me as you are.”

I swallowed, then nodded. My throat became tight for some reason.

“Will you…” I cleared my throat and started over. “Will you tell me more about her sometime?”

He cupped my cheek and held his hand there for a second.

“Of course, Harry,” he said and when I left after that, it was less with the impression of fleeing.

Chapter 3: 3

Murphy wore a powder blue evening gown. It had a top layer of lace all over it and while the neckline wasn’t low it extenuated her form more than her usual clothing had. I couldn’t keep myself from staring a little.

As I offered my arm to her I realized that there had been a time when this situation would have sent me over the moon. I still felt cheerful and confident in my well-fitting suit and content with the knowledge that whatever I was now, I could still assist Murphy in doing some good. However, there weren’t any wedding bells ringing in my head at the sight of her.

The fundraiser gala was held at the Marriott hotel in downtown Chicago. I stopped in my tracks, looking up at the building.

“I think I have déjà vu.”

Murphy produced our invites out of a tiny bag that I wasn’t sure could hide a gun.

“Another place where you almost died before?” she asked.

“Actually, yes. How did you get an invite, Murph? Last time these were going for atrocious prices.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Relax, Dresden, I was told there weren’t any big fish being fried tonight. Just dinner and a concert. Funds go to some minor charity.”

We went inside mingling with the other guests.

“You want to bet Marcone will show up anyways?” I murmured, leaning closer.

She frowned.

“If it turns out he’s involved in this whole mess...” she whispered back shaking her head. That would have complicated things for sure.

I studied the itinerary in my hand. We had some time until dinner started. So we walked around, snacking on finger food and trying to spot Murphy’s suspect.

She didn’t give any outward sign when she noticed the man. She just turned towards me and touched my arm lightly.

“Grey suit, blue ties.”

I looked over the top of her head at the man in the described clothing.

“Let’s go closer to see if I can sense any energies coming from him.”

Before we could do that though, my eyes caught on a familiar form. I wondered whether it already became an instinct to notice her or if it was simply because she was gorgeous. Deirdre wore a black gown made from a material that shimmered with her every movement. It reminded me of the starry night sky. The cut of the dress was simple, but the neckline plunged low, inviting the curious gaze. The back of the dress looked even lower cut, but her hair spilled down her back in dark waves, covering it.

She didn’t seem to bother with makeup except for red lipstick and unlike most of the women who adorned themselves with precious metal jewelry, she only wore a bracelet made out of a dark leather cord with brown and black tribal beads on it. I sort of liked that about her, the lack of pretense.

I found myself smiling at seeing that bracelet.

Murphy followed my gaze from where she stood beside me and she probably cataloged all this faster than I have. Her gaze flicked towards me. More specifically my necklace.

Just like Deirdre, formal wear or not I haven’t taken that off either. I was a wizard, okay? I got attached to my trinkets fast. The more I carried around something, especially so close to my skin, the less inclined I was to take it off.

Besides, Nicodemus might have taken offense to me ditching his gift, and given his or rather Anduriel’s tendency to learn about things, I didn’t want to risk it. Call me sentimental if you want. I rather told myself that if he thought it made me uncomfortable, then he would have gained the upper hand and I just couldn’t have that.

Unfortunately, Murphy drew the wrong conclusions from the visual clues.

“Isn’t she a bit young for you, Harry?” she asked, frowning.

“Hm?” It took me a second to realize what she meant. She was still looking at Deirdre. I realized she misinterpreted our matching jewelry.

“Oh, it isn’t what you think, Murph,” I hurried to explain. “First of all, she’s way older than me.”

“Not human then?”

“No. But more importantly…”

Before I could have finished that sentence, a hand touched my back.

“Harry,” Nicodemus’s voice glided down my spine like a caress, “what a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know you would be here.”

I turned toward him and arched an eyebrow.

“You didn’t mention coming here either,” I pointed out.

His hand hadn’t left my back.

“True. I suppose we simply had more important things than to talk,” he said with a suggestive tone.

I tried not to look flustered. I turned back to Murphy ignoring the way her eyebrows climbed even higher.

“Karrin, I don’t think you two ever met face-to-face.” That was probably a very good thing, but I tried to keep my tone pleasant while I made introductions. Deirdre joined us too and Nicodemus finally took his hand away from my back in favor of wrapping his arm around Deirdre’s waist.

They looked great together. Nicodemus was wearing all black too. A black silk shirt, and a three-piece suit with black fabric and barely lighter pinstripes. Naturally, his noose circled his throat instead of a tie and he wore a rose in his pocket.

It was a perfectly open flower in hues of orange and soft pink and had a soft aroma like nothing I ever bought from a florist. I couldn’t resist reaching out and touching it with my finger.

“I thought you would go for something edgier. A black one, perhaps?” I teased.

Nicodemus was smiling like a crocodile and Murphy was giving me a weird look.

“And where would the contrast be in that? The interest?”

I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. I noticed that Deirdre had a matching rose tucked into her hair. We were awfully matchy tonight.

Nicodemus offered us to sit at their table. Murphy didn’t look happy, but we accepted.

I pulled out the chair for her while Nicodemus did the same for Deirdre. As it was proper, we sat opposite of our date at the round table which put the Archleones on either side of us.

Dinner was only a little awkward. Murphy looked like she would have rather been somewhere else, but between me and Nic the conversation always came easily, so we filled the silence.

“Why do we always run into each other here?” I teased over the appetizer. “I hope you’re not after some old bed sheet tonight.”

Nic laughed like I said something funny.

“No, just a harmless night out. I trust you won’t try to set me on fire either, will you?”

I snorted.

“I’m not making promises.

I turned to Deirdre.

“Seriously, Dee. Neither of you is big on charity, and I know you don’t care for classical music. What’s going on?”

Unfortunately, she didn’t seem too eager to spill information in front of Murphy. She gave me an innocent look.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Harry. We didn’t kill you. Isn’t that a good deed?”

I laughed and couldn’t refrain from pointing out that it wasn’t for the lack of trying. Nicodemus was still smiling. He raised his wine glass.

“Let us toast to that. To how far we’ve come from that unpleasant first meeting.”

Murphy watched me over the rim of her glass as we all clinked them together politely. Once there was a break in the program, she practically dragged me outside.

“Harry, what the Hell are you doing?”

I stumbled out after her into the night air.

“What do you mean?”

She whirled on me.

“Do you think, I’m stupid? Isn’t he the guy who tried to start that plague a few years ago?” Murphy asked. “You said it yourself that he to kill you a few times and if I remember correctly the Church thinks he’s the Antichrist?”

“Well, yes but…” Murphy didn’t let me finish.

“And you’re chatting to him like you’re best friends. No, I take that back. By the way, he was looking at you, you two talk like lovers.”

I gulped. When I didn’t come up with an answer fast enough, Murphy added, almost an afterthought:

“I thought you were straight.”

Her voice sounded more baffled than judgmental.

“That makes the two of us,” I admitted. “Others were much less in denial. And Nic isn’t…”

Her face hardened again.

“Not what? A murderer? Evil?”

I huffed out a breath through my nose.

“I was going to go with not disagreeable,” I sniffed, “or unreasonable.”

Murphy stared at me as if she saw me for the first time.

“Harry, what have you gotten yourself into? Are you somehow under his influence?”

I shook my head. Perhaps I was. But not the way she thought.

“No, Karrin, nothing like that. We have common interests. And I guess we have gotten a little close. Who knows how long it will last? You don't need to worry about it.”

She didn’t look convinced.

“I’m pretty sure he’s also fucking his daughter.”

I let out an explosive sigh.

“What do you want me to do about it? That doesn’t even make it to the top five worse things he had done. Top ten even.”

Okay, perhaps that wasn’t the watertight argument I thought it was. After seeing the things I saw in the supernatural world, some things just didn’t hit so hard anymore. There were things that turned my stomach, sure, but I would have never tried imposing human morals on some of the players. It was counterproductive, useless, and simply a waste of time. Murphy on the other hand looked shocked.

“I thought you would care about that. The Harry I knew would have cared about that,” she added. “He must have groomed her.”

I blinked at her.

“I don’t know, Murph…” I didn’t want to get into how on Deirdre’s side it was possibly also the least alarming thing about her. “Maybe, maybe not. If so, it must have been before the middle ages. Can you recommend a therapist who would take that on?”

All of this was well beside the point, by the way.

“Look, Murph, can we just go back in and find your guy?

She shook her head.

“No. Harry, I don’t know what happened, but I’m not sure I want to be around you right now. I’m going to collect my things and go.”

I watched as she turned and started walking towards the entrance.

I looked down at my hands and noticed they were shaking. I put on a brave front but the idea of her abandoning our friendship because of my new alliance terrified me.

What did it say about me that I genuinely enjoyed Nicodemus’s company? Maybe Murphy was right and it meant that I was already too far gone.

Worse: to me, intimate relationships were sacred.

I would have never let Nic touch me, kiss me, or fuck me like that, if I hadn’t – no. That was a bit too much to stomach right now.

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash, followed by panicked screams. I rushed back inside. Couldn’t the Marriott not turn into a battlefield when I was around just once?

When I got back to the main hall, Murphy’s suspect was floating maybe two feet below the ceiling. I was only able to identify him by the tattered remains of his baby blue tie. Other than that, he didn’t look human anymore. He had wings covered with greasy-looking green and black feathers. His features elongated into a bird’s beak, his legs shortened and his feet turned into sharp claws. He also had a second set of glowing eyes on his forehead.

“Crap,” I said, very eloquently. I found Nic and Deirdre in the crowd and joined them. “You’re here because of him too, huh?”

“Ex-priest,” Nic said courtly. “Tessa’s latest toy.”

“He looks like a chicken,” Lasciel commented in my head.

“He looks like a chicken,” I said out loud. Sometimes, she had nice comebacks. Nic made a disgusted face. “And you have a score to settle with your wife,” I added, “Cool.”

I turned away and scanned the crowd until I found Murphy. I stepped up to her. She flinched, eyes wide. That felt like a knife to the gut but I didn’t have time to nurse my feelings.

“Bad news is, your guy is definitely supernatural,” I said as neutrally as I could. “Good news is, we’ll take it from here.”

She scowled at me, but I held up a hand.

“Just get out of here, Karrin. This guy won’t hurt anyone else after tonight.”

Her face hardened and she turned away. I gave myself a moment to look after her, then hurried back to the Archleones while the room emptied around us. I wondered why any security hadn’t rushed in yet. Then I noticed the shadows in the doorway. Anduriel had sealed off the entrance after the fleeing crowd left the room.

Nicodemus turned to me and said in a lazy tone:

“Would you mind roasting the chicken for me, Harry?”

I felt a fierce smile tug at my lips. Deirdre’s locks transformed into blades with a metallic whisper but I didn’t want her to ruin her dress with a full transformation.

“Not at all,” I said.

I lifted my hand, squinted at the bird-like Denarian, aiming, then sent a ball of fire in his direction. My spell was infused with Hellfire, burning bright and hot. The stinky ball of fire crashed into the mutant bird, but instead of catching fire, it opened its beaks and simply swallowed the fire with a gulp.

“Oh shit.”

Four pairs of murderous eyes locked onto me and he swooped down straight into my direction.

What I did next was completely instinctual. Hellfire didn’t work, so I reached into myself, looking for the opposite. Something that would hurt this creature. Just a little bit to the right, and… there.

I flung my hand out in the direction of the oncoming bird and this time, the lance of fire I let loose was lanced with white-blue shimmer. The bird shrieked and went up in flames. Deirdre sucked in a breath and covered her eyes. Only Nic stood firmly at my side as the scorched Denarian crashed into a table a few feet away, setting the tablecloth on fire.

He calmly stepped forward and pulled out a long, silver knife from his sleeve. After he cut the man’s throat and picked up the silver coin rolling away from the body I realize what I had done.

I used Soulfire.

***

“You’re not listening to me, Lash,” I complained. “I shouldn’t have been able to do that!”

I was nursing a glass of bourbon. Lasciel looked thoroughly unimpressed sitting across from me in my comfortable armchair where she manifested herself.

“No, you’re able to just fine. But you could have warned me.” She reached forward and plucked the glass from my hands. “You know how it feels for us to be so close to it?”

She shivered and tossed back my drink.

“Hey!” I complained. I had no idea where the bourbon went but it wasn’t in my glass when I took it back from her. It seemed like I was only going to get more questions rather than answers.

Grumbling, I stood up and refilled my glass. I leaned against my bookshelf, sipping at the warming drink.

“I just thought it was an exclusive thing,” I said finally. “When you were gone I wasn’t able to use Hellfire anymore. Now that I picked a side, I guess, I assumed I was stuck with your stinky business.”

Lasciel rolled her eyes.

“It’s different,” she said patiently. “Imagine Hellfire like a well. You gain access to it through me. Without one of us, you have no way of accessing that power. But Soulfire… Well, if you wanted, you could say it’s superior.”

I stared at her. She didn’t look happy to admit that.

“Why do you think ‘good’ always wins in the tales?” She sniffed. “The point is that Soulfire uses your magic and your soul. The source of it isn’t in Heaven. There is no third component. Only a powerful angel can teach you how to use it, but once you learned it’s yours. Except for serious mental trauma or amnesia, you won’t unlearn it.”

She stood up and made another attempt at stealing my glass. I held it up above my head.

“Stop doing that. How can you even drink?”

She fluttered her eyelashes at me.

“I’m not. It’s you drinking it.”

I scowled down at her.

“Great. So you’re just trying to get me piss-drunk, thanks.”

She rolled her eyes and sat back, hugging her knees to her.

“It was a traumatic experience.”

I sighed.

“You think for me it wasn’t? I used a piece of my soul on pure instinct. How am I going to grow it back? Now that I’m with you?”

Lasciel stared at me.

“What?” I asked. “Apparently, I can use both the good and the bad kind of juju now. Great. But I was getting the impression I was already risking my soul with you guys, no?”

Lasciel looked irritated.

“Fire isn’t good or bad. It’s like saying the fire from a wood stove is good, but the fire of your gas burner is evil. It’s ridiculous,” she scoffed. “You have used Soulfire to violence before. Now maybe try using Hellfire for creation. That’s not in the source, Harry. Humans have an amazing capacity to create, from the most unlikely and most unsuitable materials. And you have the power to destroy, you know that too. We can’t do that. Neither those of Grace nor we who fell. You can.“

I blinked at her, only processing about half of that. Lasciel continued ranting at me.

“It’s like saying anger is bad. You know it is and it isn’t. You have channeled your anger before into magic and used it to defend yourself and your friends. You’ve also been on the receiving end of violence born of uncontrolled anger.”

I nodded.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “So the morality of it is a little more complex. What about my soul? I was told that unless I used too much, I would grow it back in time. I just had to do some wholesome activities. But… can I still?”

Lasciel rolled her eyes.

“Yes, I bet the examples they told you were all nice and family-friendly.”

When I didn’t say anything, she looked like she wanted to shake me.

“How many times did Nicodemus make you laugh?” I stared at her. I almost asked if she meant today, or... “How many times did he make you laugh in bed?” Lasciel continued with a smug expression on her face. “How do you feel after you’ve lain with him?”

I cleared my throat.

“Pretty amazing…”

“Exactly. You’re happy, satisfied, and content. Sappy, even.” Again, she looked like she wanted to hit me. “Do you think that doesn’t count?”

I shook my head, still confused.

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t know having sex with a mass murderer was good for my soul.”

She actually hit me on the back of the head that time, before stealing my drink again. I knew it was only an illusion but I still winced.

“How many people he killed is beside the point.” She tossed back the bourbon. “But he makes you happy. So stop acting like the physical is somehow less because we fell to have this.”

She gave me back the empty glass. I was starting to feel drunk, even though I only managed to taste a few sips.

“And next time, warn me when you’re about to use Soulfire,” she added, then vanished.

“Hey, you’re in my head! You’re supposed to be warned by default!” I yelled after her.

***

A week later, when I stepped into McAnally’s to have lunch, Michael waited for me. I approached him carefully, but he knew the steak sandwich and the beer was too tempting for my empty stomach to leave.

“I don’t like how we parted, Harry,” Michael admitted once we sat down across from each other.

I took a sip of beer, then sighed.

“Me neither, Michael, but what can we do about it? I made my choices and, understandably, you are not happy about them.”

He shook his head. He was silent for a while, then he said:

“Maybe, you are exactly what Nicodemus needs right now. We don’t give up on people, not even on him.”

I snorted.

“Oh, so now I’m on a quest from God, descending into the darkness to save his eternal soul?”

Michael didn’t look hurt by my tone. He just shrugged.

I picked at the crust of my sandwich.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Michael. You don’t change someone by wanting to change them.”

Michael took a swig of his beer, then he smiled at me.

“Why, do you want to change him?”
I huffed. It was hard to argue with him.

“No,” I admitted.

Michael waited until I looked at him again.

“I think that you are not a man for casual relationships, Harry,” he said seriously. “If you are with him in that capacity, then I think it means that beyond the influence of power or the corruption of the Fallen your heart is set on him. And I think you have a good heart, Harry. I’m willing to trust it.”

“I’m glad we’re not mortal enemies,” I admitted. “And I appreciate that you think he can change. But I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

Michael wiped his hands.

“I won’t,” he promised amiably.

He stood up and held out his hand. After a moment of hesitation, I shook it. When I went to draw back, he didn’t let me.

“I know Molly has been seeing you,” he said seriously. “I won’t put an end to it, but if you get her hurt or involved with the Denarians, then I’m going to react not as a man of the cross, but as her father. I hope you understand that.”

Meaning, that he would probably mention it to Charity and she would gut me. I nodded gravely. Michael hesitated.

“Love is never in vain,” he said finally.

“Love?” I let out an awkward laugh. “I don’t think that’s on the table, Michael.”

Michael gave me a patiently knowing look. Then he simply raised a hand and left me there.

For some reason, Lasciel found the whole exchange exceptionally funny. So I finished my lunch with a fallen angel snickering in the back of my head.

I paid Mac and walked out into the cold Chicago air. Love? Who the Hell knew… I always had more important things to worry about.

I banished the thought from my head and went to check up on Nicodemus. I couldn’t have him getting bored and starting an apocalypse on the side.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Small Favor AU - or Harry becoming a Denarian