Shadows and Light (26 page)

“Xian is dying,” Rafael said, forcing his mouth to speak those words and not the ones that hammered in the back of his throat, far less hopeful. If he spoke the other words he would be screaming in moments. “Move.”

“Would you torment him longer?” Nailah asked, her warm brown eyes welling with tears. “Would you bring him back only to put him through hell again before he goes? How can you bear to do more?” All of a sudden she collapsed back, away from the bench, covering her face with withered hands. “So long…too long, too many years, I’m too old, I cannot… I cannot…” She crawled a few feet back. “Do what you must. I lack the will for it.”

Rafael had been hoping for more guidance than that, but he took her place at Xian’s side and laid his hand on his lover’s unresponsive chest. “You’re coming back to me,” he said firmly. Taking infinite care, Rafael broke the seal on the lead vial, letting the sweet scent of the lifeblood of heaven permeate the room. Nailah groaned with exquisite pain, her breath catching in her throat, and after another moment she began to sob.

“I’m sorry,” Rafael said. He didn’t know who he was apologizing to, or for what. Possibly his words were for the demigod himself, trapped in his pit and harvested for his immortality. “I’m sorry. I have to.” Picking up one of the remaining thorns sitting on the rag, he dipped the very point of it into the vial, reclosed it and set it behind him, and raised the thorn to Xian’s forehead.

Rafael touched the thorn to his lover’s third eye, then began tracing a line down his face, not breaking the skin, not really, simply tracing its lines. He went over Xian’s septum and lips, down his chin and throat until he connected with the thorn in his throat. He continued the network, branching from Xian’s heart to his shoulders, down to his belly and beneath, delicately over lax organs and down onto the tender skin behind them. A moment later, Rafael heard Xian’s heart start beating again. A second after that he began to breathe, and a bare instant later Xian was clutching at him with a savage, unexpected strength, his unused voice cracking and breaking as he began to scream with need. He lunged past Rafael for the vial but Rafael held him firm.

“Not that, you don’t need that,” he panted. “You need something else.” Before he could rethink it Rafael scratched himself with the thorn, gouging a line just below the crease of his thumb. “Me,” he said, raising his bleeding hand to Xian’s mouth just as impossible bliss overtook him. “You need me.”

Erran’s blood had never entered Rafael’s body before, not directly. There was hardly any left on the thorn after he finished rubbing it over Xian, but what trace amount there was more potent than any drug he had ever experienced. Even the lightning-strike feeling of magic in his blood after feeding from Xian couldn’t compare to the nirvana that coursed through him now. Just a scratch and it was already almost more than he could handle. Almost, but not quite enough to make him turn and lunge for the vial behind him and drain its contents.

Instead Rafael kept his hands on Xian, always on Xian, and focused on the steady suck-suck of his lover’s mouth worrying his flesh. It hurt, but that was fine, because for the first time in far too long Xian was holding him, was clinging to him, and it hardly mattered in the moment whether the creature in his arms was the Xian he knew or something else entirely. Whatever he was, he belonged to Rafael. “Mine,” Rafael whispered, his vision gone fuzzy with blood loss, fatigue and pure pleasure. “Mine.”

After what felt like an eternity, the sharp teeth left his hand. By the time he was able to focus again, Rafael’s vision had coalesced into a pair of large eyes standing out in a chalk-white face. The eyes, though…they weren’t seamless white from edge to edge, or riddled with midnight veins. The eyes were brown, golden brown, like dark honey under sunlight, and their centers were perfect black circles. Thin lips were stained red again, but beneath the blood was a hint of native color. Their eyes met, and Rafael felt like he was staring into the face of a god.

“Yours,” Xian breathed at last, and in that moment he was more precious to Rafael than any deity ever could be.

Chapter Twenty-Two

For Xian, becoming a man again wasn’t accomplished simply by living through the crisis of his body’s remaking. The personal indignities that had to be relearned, eating and drinking, bathing and shitting, and of a certainty being sick as he struggled to cope with it all, would have made anyone short-tempered. For the most part Xian managed with remarkable presence of mind however, and with enough humility to allow him to be helped in ways that went beyond anything Rafael had ever imagined from him. Hurting Xian had been almost unsupportable. Caring for him, with his blessing, was a balm that touched parts of his soul that Rafael hadn’t even realized were wounded.

At times, when the craving came back so strongly it brought the tremors with it, instead of cutting Xian, Rafael cut himself, and let his lover drink. Nailah pointed out to both of them on several occasions that simply substituting one addiction for another wasn’t the point, but in this case they were willing to ignore her. Her knowledge and skills, as deep as they went, weren’t deep enough for what existed between the pair of them.

Simply smelling the blood had brought on a relapse in Nailah, and for a week after the crisis Rafael had his hands full tending to the pair of them. He was worried about her, truly worried, up until the moment when she whacked him with her cane for bringing her the wrong tea. Nailah recovered quickly after that. Her personality lent itself to dominance, and being on the receiving end of such close attention was intolerable. She fought her way back to stability, and if at times she was a little faint, or sat for longer in her chair than Rafael was used to, he didn’t mention it.

Rebuilding Xian didn’t end with the return of his mind. His muscles were wasted away, and none of them were even considering exposing him to sunlight any time soon. Nailah forced him to eat, and Rafael forced him to move. In truth it was less forcing and more helping, but Xian exhausted himself quickly. Even sitting up was a challenge at first, much less standing. After weeks of convalescence, the first time he came to his feet he only managed to stay upright for less than a second, but Rafael was there to catch him.

“It’s rather like caring for an infant, isn’t it?” Xian mused tiredly one evening as Rafael helped him into bed. They couldn’t risk exposing Xian to sunlight, but that didn’t mean that Rafael was going to lose one more second of time they could spend together, and he’d moved the bench out and his own bed into the dark room. It nearly filled the small space, but neither of them cared.

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never spent any time around children,” Rafael replied as he climbed in beside Xian.

“You might like it. They’re delightful when they’re not heinous little monsters.”

Rafael raised an eyebrow. “Speaking from experience?”

“Not actually in regards to you,” Xian said. “You were for the most part a very good child. But I took every one of my apprentices at the age of five, and not all of them were as eager to please as you.”

“That doesn’t exactly inspire me.”

“You’ve never had any interest in having a family of your own?”

Rafael rolled over so that he was on top of Xian and framed his face with his hands. “You’re the only thing, the only person, the only family I’ve ever wanted.” He brought their lips together in a tender kiss, mindful of bruising the skin now that Xian felt every caress as a normal man did. More than that, as a child did, the skin new and fresh, resilient but so soft the slightest bump told on it hours later.

Even as genteel as their shared kiss was, it was enough to get Rafael hard. They were nearly a month into Xian’s recovery, so long since they’d first arrived here that it was practically spring outside now, but they hadn’t made love in all that time. Xian’s body was too sapped of energy to maintain an erection, and although he’d helped stroke Rafael to completion every night after they began sleeping together again, they hadn’t gone further.

His frustration clearly translated itself. Xian pulled back from the kiss and looked at Rafael. “Are you hungry, beloved?” Xian never used ‘pet’ now, substituting new, tender words that made Rafael smile every time he heard them. He was slowly growing used to hearing them from his lover, and Xian was finally losing his reluctance to use the sweeter, more affectionate expressions. The look on his face wasn’t exactly sweet, however.

“I’m always hungry for you,” Rafael replied, angling in for another kiss. Xian evaded him.

“Not like that. Are you hungry, Rafael? Do you want more than you’ve been getting?”

Rafael managed to shrug. “You can’t be inside me yet, and I understand that. I can wait.”

Xian smiled. “I can’t be inside you with more than fingers yet, no. But it doesn’t follow that you can’t have more. You could be inside me.”

The bottom dropped out of Rafael’s stomach, falling along with his jaw. “Are you serious?” he managed at last.

“I wouldn’t bring it up if I wasn’t serious about it,” Xian assured him. “I know it isn’t a role you’ve often taken, but things have changed between us now. I’m not your master. Almost nothing of that creature remains.” He looked into Rafael’s eyes, human brown meeting human green. “Do you miss him?”

“I miss some things,” Rafael answered honestly. “A lot of what I miss I know will return. Some things, though… It was a comfort, having you invulnerable. I felt safer leaving things in your hands and knowing that there was almost nothing that could harm you. It was easier to let you take care of everything.”

“It was easier for me to do so then,” Xian said. He ran the smooth pad of his thumb absently over the rough scar on Rafael’s, the result of hours of teeth and tongue. “Our relationship was less than equal before, imbalanced. The dynamic between us was good but the practical difficulties would have overcome it in time even if Clare still stood and Erran’s blood still flowed. We have to create a new dynamic now, and for my part it needs to include you taking control. You’ve done very well with that since we came here.” Xian leaned close and brushed his lips ever so lightly across Rafael’s, barely there but for his heat and the kiss of his breath, and arousal surged through his young lover. “I’m yours,” Xian murmured. “You should take me.”

Rafael was harder than he’d been in months, his breath already coming shorter. “I don’t have what we need here…”

“I suggest getting it. Fast.”

Rafael almost fell out of bed in his haste, and spared a moment to be thankful that Nailah was already in her room as he darted into the kitchen and began looking in her pots. He settled for sheaf nut oil, so thick it was nearly a paste, which she used as a base for some of her ointments. He was back in bed in moments and Xian was waiting for him, lying relaxed on his stomach, the starkness of bones slowly disappearing under resurging muscle. His hair was still silver, and it coiled lazily down his back. He skin was still white, but flushed pink with blood, his own blood. Xian was the most beautiful thing Rafael had ever seen, and he belonged to him.

“Mine.” Rafael didn’t even register shedding his clothes and falling back onto the bed. He heard the low, possessive voice speaking, but didn’t really connect it to himself. His hands were consumed with mapping his lover’s recovering flesh, tracing the faint lines of scarring that still remained. It was far less for Xian than for Nailah, but still present. Rafael kissed every jutting vertebra, stroked every inch of pale, perfect skin he could reach, but it wasn’t enough.

“Mine.” He had to own this creature, this changeling. Fingers found the oil, spilling it some, but he didn’t care, he was too driven to possess. Rafael pressed one finger slowly inside Xian, tentative at first, remembering how to move and what to touch. He found Xian’s prostate and his lover gasped, and Rafael reveled in that faint sound. His hunger was still there, but banked, burning steadily as he spent ages opening Xian, making him shudder and moan and clench, stroking that spot inside him over and over until the sounds of need were too much. More oil for his cock, then Rafael was on top of Xian, entering him, and it was glorious and divine and filthy and human all at once, almost overwhelming, and he didn’t even realize he had bitten Xian’s shoulder until his next “Mine” came out muffled. He let go and drew back a bit, then pressed inside again, as deep as he could go, and they both moaned.

“Fuck,” Rafael whispered. “God, fuck, Xian…”

“That’s perfect,” his lover encouraged him. “Harder. Faster. I won’t break, I want you in me.”

In Xian. In Xian. Rafael’s balls tightened threateningly and he bit his lip hard, holding back his orgasm. He began to move, steadily, in and out of the clutching heat and smoothness that was his lover, his mate, his everything. His. His. Rafael pounded the message home, making his claim clear. Xian was his, they belonged to each other, and this was a part of their equality and it felt, fuck, it felt incredible, so perfect and so right and so good that he couldn’t stop himself, when his orgasm swelled again he rode the wave of it and crashed with it, deep, deep into Xian, pouring his heart and his soul out with his breath and his cum.

Rafael felt the tremors around his cock, reached down and realized that Xian had come after all, come with him, come from Rafael being inside him, and his possessive feelings swelled even further. He rolled them onto their sides to keep from crushing Xian, but held the other man tight and stayed within him even as he softened. “Love you,” he managed finally.

“I love you too,” Xian replied gently. “Apparently we both needed that.” Humor laced his words.

“I didn’t even realize I needed it.”

“But you enjoyed it.”

“It was…amazing.” He kissed the point of Xian’s shoulder. “Wonderful. Perfect. But I wouldn’t mind doing it the other way in the future as well.”

“We undoubtedly will.”

“And I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to…do more.” Rafael didn’t really know how to bring up the pain dynamic that had existed for them before it became twisted into something to give Xian relief from the withdrawal. He knew he wouldn’t heal the same way he had before, but he also knew that he loved the blow of the whip and the edge of a knife against his skin.