The Gravedigger's Brawl (28 page)

When it ended, Ash touched Wyatt's chin with his finger. “It wouldn't be the same if you weren't there. Please come?”

Wyatt nodded, warmed to his very toes. “I wouldn't miss it.”

Ash nodded, then glanced at his watch and sighed. “Okay, I have to get back to help set up. I'll see you guys there?”

Wyatt nodded. He watched Ash stand, not wanting to let him out of his sight. He was euphoric, there was no other word to describe it. Noah bid Ash farewell as he made his way out of the break room. Museum workers turned to watch him go, eyeing him not because he was dressed oddly, but because he was a walking work of art with a warm smile and eyes that shone. Wyatt glanced to Noah, unable to curtail the brilliant smile on his face.

“You've got nine lives, my friend,” Noah drawled around a smirk. He looked at his own watch. “Time to start getting ready. Go bust out that costume of yours.”

Wyatt glanced at the doorway one last time before forcing himself to move.

His costume from the gala was still in his office, hanging in a bag on the back of his door. It probably wasn't appropriately gory for a party called the Gravedigger's Brawl, but it fit and it would do well enough.

He pulled out the Confederate officer's uniform and turned it around, inspecting it for flaws. It was a perfect replica, worthy to be worn by a museum curator in a city that had once been the capitol of the Confederacy.

Wyatt had just buttoned up the brass buttons on the front of his uniform and sat down to tie his shoes when Noah poked his head into the office.

Wyatt looked up at him and burst out laughing. He was dressed in a frighteningly warlike angel outfit. His chest was bare, with leather straps crisscrossing it. He was wearing wings and sandals.

“Oh my God,” Wyatt blurted before almost falling out of his chair laughing.

“Hey! It's the Gravedigger's Brawl! They give prizes for the best costume. If I win it, I save Caleb money. He's the one who had the makeup dude come do it.”

“You're going to freeze.”

“A paltry sum to pay for what Caleb will do to me later.”

Wyatt smirked. At least the wool coat of his uniform was warm. He'd probably be singing a different tune when they got to Gravedigger's and found it packed with hot, sweating bodies, but he was too excited about seeing Ash to care.

The sun had set and the streets were full of partygoers in costume as they walked from the museum toward the tavern. Many of the revelers congregated at Gravedigger's, which was the premier Halloween haunt in the city for the third year running. People were clamoring to get in. The line went around the corner of the building and down the alley.

They had hired several bouncers for the event, just like Ash had said. Noah told a large man with a clipboard their names and they were let into the bar without further fuss. The
music
pounded, vibrating the floor and shaking the windows. The far wall near the stairs had a tiny stage set up but nothing on it. The door to the upstairs was open and, Wyatt was shocked to see, full of people.

“Caleb fixed the upstairs!” Noah shouted above the din. “He's got a mobile bar and lounge areas set up in each room up there, plus one on the patio!”

“Yeah, that's what Ash was saying. I didn't expect . . . this, though.”

“I know! It's awesome!”

Wyatt thought maybe he managed to respond, but his words were lost in the sound.

“Hard to think, huh?” Noah shouted with a grin.

Wyatt nodded and looked around the crowded room with what could best be described as shellshock.

“That's the best part, man! Better than drugs!” Noah shouted as he moved with the music. His angel wings moved with him.

Wyatt curled his lip at that and shook his head as he dodged one of Noah's wings. Several people recognized him as “the man who was fucking Ash” and greeted him in a surprisingly friendly manner. He even received a hug or two from inebriated people he didn't know. An alarming number of people saluted him.

Caleb was manning the bar downstairs and he greeted them wordlessly, knowing whatever he said would be lost before it got to them. He had dyed his beard jet black and shaved it into a classic split goatee, complete with pointed ends shellacked with something that made them stick out. They looked sharp enough to pierce armor. His eyes were flat black, an eerie thing since they were usually a gentle green. He had horns that appeared to be growing out of his forehead, not just sitting on a hairband or something, and they curled back and down around his ears like ram's horns. Wyatt couldn't even look at his clothing for being distracted by the brilliance of his makeup.

Caleb spared a moment to leer at Noah's bare chest, and he laughed as Noah reached over the bar and smacked him. Caleb leaned closer and Noah gave him a quick kiss, then they indulged a deeper one. Wyatt didn't look away. They seemed so perfect for each other, he simply smiled and watched. When they were satisfied, Noah said something into Caleb's ear. Caleb answered by pointing upstairs and then pointing left to indicate where Ash was.

“Be back!” Noah assured him, and Caleb nodded as he went back to fixing drinks.

Wyatt followed Noah through the crowd as he forced his way up the stairs. They took the first left and found a little mobile bar set up in one of the small rooms. Ash stood behind it, mixing drinks. He wasn't flairing. It was probably far too busy for that right now. The flairing exhibitions were scheduled for certain times.

When Ash raised his head, Wyatt's heart stuttered. The low light hit Ash's eyes and they seemed to glow like a cat's, only luminescent blue, just like the man Ash had claimed he'd seen. He raised his head higher and the light moved, and his eyes returned to their normal warm brown.

Wyatt stared breathlessly, rooted to the spot as Noah made his way through the crowd.

Ash waved to him as Wyatt remained where he was. Wyatt cleared his throat and forced himself to move.

“Nice costume!” Noah was saying as Wyatt got closer.

“They're pretty kickass, right?” Ash said with a grin.

He had little nubs of horns under his hairline that seemed to be sprouting out of his forehead, just like Caleb's only much smaller, and a long tail that moved with him as he danced to the music. He opened his mouth to show off his elongated canines—without any chips—and the stud in his tongue, a long black strip that held three balls and gave the impression at a glance that Ash's tongue was forked. His clothing had an old, mottled velvet quality to it, and it seemed to fall away from him in strips but still hug close enough not to catch on his bottles. It was a brilliant outfit.

“We're imps,” Ash said, still grinning.

“Caleb was the Devil,” Noah said, laughing raucously. “I love it.”

“Nice uniform, Colonel,” Ash said to Wyatt with an approving leer.

Wyatt could hardly answer, he was so preoccupied with Ash's eyes. And tongue. Ash lowered his head to pour and then looked back up at Wyatt from under lowered brows. He was smirking, and Wyatt shivered as his eyes once again glowed a milky blue for a moment. It seemed to Wyatt that Ash knew why he was staring.

“Cool!” Noah exclaimed, leaning closer. “Contacts?”

“Yeah. I warned the guy he wouldn't get them back 'cause I'm going to rip them out of my eyes and toss them away. I can feel them wanting to crawl into my corneas already, but he told me to try them anyway. But they're pretty sick, right?”

Noah nodded enthusiastically and Wyatt found himself staring at Ash suspiciously. Were they really contacts?

“What can I get you?” Ash asked them. “You okay?” he added as he frowned at Wyatt.

“You just . . . you look great.”

Ash raised one eyebrow and then smiled at him. “I know what your problem is,” he said, laughing as he poured a drink for Noah. Noah toasted him, then dissolved into the crowd, probably going back to find Caleb.

Ash flipped over a sign that said, “Go Next Door, Bitch” and came out from behind the bar. He took Wyatt's hand and tugged him through the crowd, then ducked under a velvet rope that closed off the staircase to the attic.

The thumping of the
music
grew softer as they climbed, and when Ash pushed open the door at the top of the staircase, the noise had settled to a dull roar.

“Hey, stranger.” Ash flicked on the attic lights and turned to face Wyatt.

“Hi,” Wyatt said, relieved that it wasn't scary up here. Just messy and full of old paint and furniture and ladders.

“I would kiss you, but it would fuck up the wicked makeup I've got going.” Ash smiled. “You want to tell me what's going on?”

Wyatt swallowed and then exhaled in a rush of words, “I'm freaking out a little.”

Ash blinked and took a slight step back. “What? Why?”

“You! First the thing with the . . . I'm not allowed to say the word.”

“Oh.”

“And then finding you on that sheet. Did you ever see those pictures? You looked like you were about to . . .”

“About to what? Paint?”

“No,” Wyatt said through gritted teeth.

Ash looked genuinely confused. “What, Wyatt?”

Wyatt bit his lip and looked away, unable to meet Ash's eyes. “You looked like those pictures.”

“Meaning? What, you thought I was about to kill myself? Come on, Wyatt!”

“I'm sorry!”

“You know better. You're the one who said you didn't believe in any of it. Hell, I'm not even sure if I do now. It was just a knock on the head.”

Wyatt nodded, unconvinced.

Ash gave an almost amused huff. “What happened to change your mind?”

“I found your keys.”

“Oh, yeah? Where?”

“They were at the corner of the building, where you said he was standing.”

Ash frowned thoughtfully. “That's . . . slightly disturbing.”

“Tell me about it. And then I kept seeing—”

“Look,” Ash interrupted with a heavy sigh, “I'm scared, okay? But I don't want to dwell on this. It's taken up too much of my damn life already.”

“I know. But they said people who are drugged or drunk are more susceptible, and when we did that cleansing you were all drugged up.”

“Wyatt.”

“And I keep seeing him around you! They said—”

“I know what they said,” Ash snapped. He met Wyatt's eyes and shook his head, his expression softening. “I'm sorry. It's just, I think I'd know if I was . . . possessed or something.”

“Would you?”

Ash's head jerked up and his eyes flashed in the light of the bare bulb above the door. Wyatt gasped and tensed despite the fact that he knew they were contacts.

Ash examined Wyatt for a moment. “Are you scared of me?” he asked.

“A little. Maybe. Yeah,” Wyatt stuttered. “Right now, yeah.”

To his surprise, Ash laughed. Softly at first, almost disbelievingly, and then harder.

“It's not funny,” Wyatt muttered.

“I'm sorry, but it kind of is.” Still laughing, Ash placed his hands on the door on either side of Wyatt's shoulders, careful of his uniform. “I'm nothing to be scared of. I promise.”

“Say that to me again without the contacts or the forked tongue or the horns or the fangs, okay?” Wyatt requested, though the knot of tension began to dissipate.

Ash laughed again, and it was the same deep, rich sound Wyatt remembered.

“How about I tell you again in the morning?” Ash leaned closer and brushed his lips over Wyatt's. The chaste touch had the desired effect; Wyatt's entire body flooded with warmth. He cursed the makeup Ash had on that was keeping the man from touching him.

Ash ran the tip of his nose against Wyatt's cheek. “You up for your last chance?”

Wyatt shivered. “Do I deserve it?”

“I'm a charitable imp.”

Wyatt nodded and smiled as relief began to seep through him. “It's still not funny.”

Ash grinned. “In a year, we'll look back on all this and laugh.”

Wyatt smiled as he met Ash's eyes. Ash was thinking long-term. It gave Wyatt the most incredible feeling, and he told himself that he was being silly. Ash was right. There was nothing to be afraid of and everything to gain.

It was past four in the morning when the staff of Gravedigger's finally swept the dregs of the party out of the bar and locked up. The reveling continued in the streets, but Ash, Ryan, Delilah, and Caleb stayed behind to clear away the largest of the messes.

They closed the upstairs, making certain there were no stragglers locked in closets or between couch cushions, and then trudged downstairs to find Wyatt and Noah waiting for them.

“Ready to go home?” Noah asked Caleb with a smirk. He rolled his shoulders and his wings waved. Caleb laughed and, to Ash's surprise, wrapped Noah in his arms, bent him backward, and kissed him soundly. There was something amusing and slightly obscene about watching the devil grope an angel.