Dire Straits Read online

  "Fuck me," Ezell said when they broke apart. "I want to see how much you've improved with age."

  Laughing, Bannick stole another quick, sharp kiss then retrieved the forgotten oil and slicked his fingers. Kissing and nipping his way back down Ezell's body, he stroked teasingly at his cock and balls before sliding between them to stretch and prepare Ezell.

  Ezell gasped, shifted, hips moving, body pleading for more. Bannick obliged, swiftly progressing from one to two fingers. When he had Ezell begging and writhing, he withdrew his fingers and lined up his cock—then thrust inside, making Ezell cry out, making his eyes fracture with yellow.

  Smirking, he grasped Ezell's hips and started up a hard rhythm, until Bannick came with a cry he forgot to muffle.

  They collapsed together in a sweaty, tangled heap. Bannick pressed a soft kiss to Ezell's sweaty brown liking that Ezell smelled like them, like sex. Then he rolled out of bed before he lost all will to move, fetching a rag from the washing room to clean them up.

  Tossing it aside when he was done, he climbed back into bed and tangled himself up with Ezell again. "We should really get up and enjoy that dinner your housekeeper so kindly made for us," he said after a few minutes, but made no effort to move.

  "Mm-hmm," Ezell replied, shifting slightly, curling into him more, already at least half asleep. Bannick laughed softly and shifted enough to pull up the blankets before settling in and drifting off to sleep himself.

  When he woke later, it was to fingers in his ass and a hot mouth around his cock. Bannick gasped, head landing with a thump on his pillow as he arched into that damned fine mouth. When he was finally able to lift his head, he stared down into a hot, yellow gaze. "Ez—"

  Laughing, Ezell pulled off his cock and removed his fingers, and that was all the warning Bannick had before he was being fucked as hard as he had earlier fucked Ezell. So different, he thought hazily. Ezell of fourteen years ago had been nothing like this. He'd been eager and willing, but still shy enough he'd never taken the lead or even initiated much. He'd always been happy to let Bannick be in control.

  Bannick did not at all mind this new aspect, someone who was not intimidated in the slightest by him and was more than willing to take all that Bannick could offer—and whatever it made him, he did not mind at all that animal yellow light of demon eyes. Perhaps it was only natural, given how well he'd taken to drinking demon blood. Or maybe he just liked the hint of danger, the hint of dark path, to it all. Blood priests weren't known for timidity, after all.

  He felt every inch as Ezell pulled out and then thrust back in, rocking them, the bed, and this time when he came he did not have to worry about muffling his scream. Ezell bent and took his mouth, kissing him hard, and the sharp taste of demon blood flooded his mouth as they both came.

  Hot, sticky, dizzy—Bannick could do nothing more than lay panting for several minutes, and gods have mercy, but that had just made him like waking up.

  "What time is it?" he asked when he could think again.

  "Little after seven," Ezell replied, still a bit of growl to his voice. He sat on the edge of the bed, clearly trying and failing to make himself get out of it.

  Bannick thought it would not be much longer before Ezell and his demon were so fused as to be indistinguishable. He smiled faintly and sat up, wrapping an arm around Ezell and dropping a soft kiss on his shoulder. "We're due at the Temple in a little over an hour, then. But after we report, we should get the rest of the day off."

  "I hope so," Ezell said and turned enough to take a proper kiss, lingering, before he finally pulled away and stood up. "Come on, then. Your clothes are there." He motioned to the trunk at the foot of the bed.

  Sighing, Bannick climbed out of bed—then stopped in surprise. "These are my clothes. How—"

  Ezell laughed. "I woke up for a little while, earlier. Ate dinner, sent Jimmy to your house to fetch what you'd need for today. Your landlady, he observed, was terrifying."

  "She is," Bannick agreed. "Guess I was more tired than I realized, to sleep as long as I did. Thanks for fetching my stuff." He strode briefly into the wash room to clean himself up, then returned to the bedroom and swiftly dressed. As he was going to the Temple, his clothes were of better quality than his everyday clothes, though he still wore only slacks, shirt, vest, and frock coat. Securing his collar with his pin, he then buckled on his guns, checking each before holstering them. He never felt the same without his gun belt; he'd grown far too used to the weight and feel of it, the presence.

  He turned to Ezell and took a moment just to admire. There was still something of the scholar about Ezell, but he mostly just looked like the mages of old in the black coat with its double row of buttons, the long hair, and the fractured eyes. As if he were just this side of tamed and would go feral in a moment. It was not a look he'd ever expected to see on Ezell, but he liked it as much as the sweet smile that Ezell offered him.

  "Shall we go, then?" Ezell asked. "The sooner we go, the sooner we're hopefully free."

  Bannick nodded, and they made their way out of the house, Bannick grabbing up his hat as they left. Out on the street, they started walking. From Ezell's house, he could see the Pantheon, the colorful spires and globes of the Crown Palace, the Temple, the Armory, and the Great Cathedral. From Rue St. George, it was an easy walk, and any time of day in the city, walking was faster than riding.

  They reached the Temple at a quarter past eight, and Bannick removed his hat as they entered. He held it lightly as they made their way along the white and gray marble halls of the Temple. Morning light cast a golden glow through the open archways and rainbows of light where it struck stained glass.

  Eventually, they reached the Hall of Angels, so called because the leaders of the Priesthood had taken the names of angels when they had taken their positions. As a blood priest, Bannick reported directly to Father Gabriel, who was in charge of all field priests. Beneath him were supervisors for each of the other levels of field priest—blue, green, violet, gray, black. Only the blood priests reported directly to Gabriel, and only the Angels and above could dispatch them.

  Bannick knocked on Gabriel's door, then pushed it open as Gabriel bid them enter.

  "Ah, Bannick," Gabriel said, looking up over the edge of his gold-rimmed reading glasses. "Mr. Underwood." He set aside the papers he'd been reading, placing his glasses on top of them. His eyes were sharp, clear—and completely yellow.

  The highest bodies of the government, from the Crown down to the top leaders of every major branch of government—known as the Major Arcana—were all demon-fused. They had been that way for as long as anyone could remember; some liked to say they were the very same persons who united the country and brought peace. The Crown itself, actually two men and one woman collectively known as The Crown—were said to have been demon-fused for so long they had forgotten what it was like to be human.

  It wasn't true of course, and precious few people actually realized that the upper echelons of the Crown were all demon-fused. Being ruling bodies of the Major Arcana, the three Angels of the Temple were demon-fused—and extremely powerful. It was a power they shared with their priests, however; they were the primary providers of the demon blood drunk by the blood priests.

  "So tell me of the dire demon," Gabriel said, leaning back in his seat and folding his hands in his lap. Bannick started, relating every last detail of the case from the moment of his arrival. Ezell took over at points, until at last there was nothing left to say. Gabriel said nothing as they finished, but watched them pensively, obviously turning something over and over in his mind. Finally, he looked at Ezell, yellow eyes shimmering. "How do you fair, Childe?"

  "We are fine," Ezell replied.

  Laughing, Gabriel said, "You have a long way to go, Childe, but I concur. You seem more merged already, though I saw you only a couple of weeks ago. That is excellent progress."

  Ezell said nothing, but his withering look did not require words.

  Gabriel chuckled and sat forward in
his seat, settling his hands on his desk. "As Ezell can attest, dires are becoming more and more of a problem. As you can attest, Exorcist, so is high magic. History syndrome, we fear."

  Bannick grunted. The Crown had not been in power very long—just past seventy five years now. Not long at all, but long enough that people had already largely forgotten the dark days, when magic had been out of control, when violent, angry demons, summoned by mages who didn't know how to control what they'd brought forth, had killed just for sport,. Dires, black magic—life eighty years ago had been a true living nightmare. All attempts at controlling it had failed until the Crown had come along.

  It was all history now, though. People didn't remember those days, appreciate why certain things had been restricted or outlawed entirely. They forgot all the reasons they shouldn't play with fire, shouldn't want to play with it. They decided the government was being harsh just for fun, that the danger wasn't real, and then they created problems they couldn't fix. People grew complacent, forgot the terror—it was all in the past, after all. History syndrome.

  "The work of the Priests is getting more and more dangerous, and the increase in danger and complexity of the problems is keeping more priests in the field longer. Despite what everyone thinks, we do not possess an infinite number of priests to go around." He and Bannick both grimaced at this, then he continued, "To that end, we are thinking of instituting several changes to the way we handle such things. We are about to launch the experimental phase, and having heard your report, and knowing all that I do of both of you, I think you would make ideal candidates."

  Bannick quirked a brow. "What changes?"

  "We would like to try sending priests afield in pairs on a permanent basis, rather than simply at the apprentice stage. We want them to work in partners. That will help mitigate the increased danger, and ideally, two can solve a problem faster than one. This will work especially well if the two are of different magic types. That would offer a diversity of solutions to whatever problems present. Given that you are a rune mage and Mr. Underwood a necromancer, I cannot think of better test subjects."

  "So—" Bannick could not believe what he was hearing. "You want to make us field partners?"

  "But necromancers aren't priests," Ezell interjected. "Black magic isn't practiced by the Priesthood."

  Gabriel nodded. "I did say we had several changes in the works. Given the dramatic increase in the illegal practice of black magic, we have acknowledged it would behoove the Priesthood to have our own experts in that particular branch. Necromancers especially frequently help us out already. It only makes sense to employ you properly. Given your years of service, it is only fair to offer the chance to you, first. If you do well during the trial period, we can probably push the bill through with ease. So, gentlemen—what say you?"

  Bannick shared a look with Ezell, who only laughed and shook his head. "Sign us up," Bannick replied. "We're all for it. I like the idea."

  Gabriel smirked, but only nodded and said, "Very well. You have a week of sabbatical left, Bannick. Both of you enjoy that. Report to me in one week for your new assignment. Goddess bless you both."

  "Father," they both murmured then rose and left.

  Once outside the Temple, Bannick smiled and bent to steal a kiss, then stepped away and slid his hat on his head. "Come on, partner. Let's get some grub."

  "Sounds divine," Ezell replied with a snicker, and they walked off together into the city.

  About the Author

  Megan grew up a military brat and traveled extensively with her family. She is now firmly settled in Ohio, with two roommates and their four cats. She has always been book obsessed, and writing obsessed since she first gave it a whirl in college. Romance and fantasy are her primary obsessions, but she’s game to write just about anything and enjoys a challenge. She is a sucker for stories of enemies becoming lovers. When not writing, Megan is drinking too much coffee, reading still more books, and harassing family and friends, or otherwise doing whatever possible to avoid editing.