Chapter One

 

 

The human’s scream pierced the air, setting Lindemere’s nerves on edge.

“Easy, easy!” Lindemere tried his best to sound soothing, but as a demon under the Horseman of Death, it wasn’t something he’d had to attempt often. What the fuck do I know about soothing someone? Still, for his amina—the human who was his soul—Lindemere had to try. “Please, you are safe. Calm down.”

Perhaps it was hearing his voice, or maybe it was how the human’s gaze suddenly became riveted to Lindemere’s claws. Either way, the human snapped his mouth shut. With wide eyes accentuated by the gold frames he wore, he stared at Lindemere.

The scent of the human’s fear permeated the room, and Lindemere had to fight his natural instinct to pull the young man into his arms and hold him. Somehow, Lindemere figured the man wouldn’t find the action soothing. That realization saddened Lindemere, and he hoped to be able to change it soon.

“There ya go,” Lindemere murmured. “It’s all right.” Keeping half his attention on the human, he reached over and picked up a wooden mug sitting on the nightstand. With slow movements, Lindemere held it out to his amina. “Please. Drink. It will soothe your throat and ease the pain in your wrist.”

“Y-You drink it first.”

Surprised at the demand, Lindemere lifted one brow. “I am not the one injured. It would be wasted on me.”

The human’s tongue slid out, licking over his lower lip. He swallowed hard enough that Lindemere watched his Adam’s apple slide beneath the skin of his throat. In response, Lindemere’s own mouth watered with a desire to follow the path of the man’s tongue.

That move, along with the longing expression on his amina’s face and the slight hoarseness of the human’s voice, told Lindemere that he wanted the drink.

“Prove it’s not poisonous or, or drugged.”

“Ah, you wish me to taste it first because you do not trust me.” Lindemere felt disappointment stab through him, but he understood it, too. “Of course.”

Lindemere lifted the mug to his lips and took a small swallow. The thick fluid coated his tongue and throat. The rich broth caused his taste buds to hum pleasantly.

Holding it out again, Lindemere smiled. “Please. Now you.”

With a trembling left hand, the human reached out and wrapped his fingers around the cup. The tips of his fingers brushed the thick skin of Lindemere’s own digits, causing a tingle of awareness to shoot up his arm. The touch was so innocent, yet, Lindemere’s breath still caught in his throat.

As Lindemere began easing his hold on the mug, he saw that it began to waver. He tightened his grip once more, lending support. “Easy, now. You’re weak. You’ve been asleep for nearly a day.” As he spoke, Lindemere settled on the side of the mattress, using his hold to urge the human to lift the cup to his lips and drink.

Lindemere noticed the wary light filling his amina’s expressive blue eyes, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying the human’s nearness. The man was his soul, a gift from the gods after one thousand years of service to his master, the Horseman of Death. Everything about the man called to Lindemere on a visceral level he’d never before experienced.

Now, if only I can get him to trust me.

“Take your time,” Lindemere encouraged as he eased the mug away from his human’s lips. His blood heated in his veins as he watched the man once again lick his lips. Attempting to focus on something other than his swiftly filling dick, Lindemere again helped the human drink as he stated, “My name is Lindemere. Will you gift me with your name?”

After finishing the drink, his human pushed the mug back toward Lindemere before releasing it. “Tell me where I am, and I’ll tell you my name.” He glanced around, warily taking in his surroundings. “Where am I? Why was I out for a day?” He frowned at his right wrist, which was wrapped in a bandage. “What’s going on?” Scowling at Lindemere, he snapped, “How the hell do you expect me to believe anything a gargoyle has to say?”

It seemed that with the return of moisture to the human’s throat, so rose the man’s animosity.

Lindemere just kept from flinching at the derision in his amina’s tone when he uttered the word gargoyle. Since he’d originally scented the human in the thick woods of northern New York, then had stumbled into a trap meant for a gargoyle, his attitude shouldn’t have surprised Lindemere. Sadly, it did.

Perhaps he doesn’t remember me pulling Daren off of him during the fight.

The whole damn thing was a cock-up from the beginning. He shouldn’t have chosen to sit it out in the gargoyle cage, hoping for a few private words with the human. The smart play would have been to leave, then track his amina down while free.

Pheromones could make a paranormal do funny things, though.

“Well?”

Meeting the human’s gaze, Lindemere replayed his amina’s questions through his mind, then chose the best way to answer them. “First, you asked where you were in exchange for your name,” he began slowly. Holding the human’s defiant gaze, Lindemere revealed, “I am not a gargoyle. I am a demon. You’re in the demon realm, which is ruled by the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

The more Lindemere had revealed, the wider his amina’s jaw had gaped. Now, he stared at him with wide, wide eyes, and his already too-pale complexion had lost most of what little color it had held.

“What?” The one word was whispered on a gasp, and the acrid scent of panic flooded the room. The human shook his head in denial. “No. That’s not possible.”

Lindemere should have figured that would be the response. Even humans that recognized the existence of most paranormals didn’t consider the possibility of other worlds. Still, that didn’t change the facts, and the human would soon have to accept it... or go insane.

Gods. I hope that doesn’t happen.

“I assure you, it is,” Lindemere responded calmly. Sitting on the mattress beside his amina, he struggled to keep from touching him, curling his clawed hands into loose fists and resting them on his thighs. “Now, I told you where you are. Please? Your name?” Seeing the human’s furrowed brows, as if he didn’t understand the question, Lindemere pressed, “While I don’t mind continuing to think of you as my amina, I would very much like to have a name to report to my master.”

“What’s an amina?”

Shaking his head, Lindemere smiled. “Your mind is questing again. I shall answer them all in due course. Your name?”

“Iago. Iago Hernandez.”

Lindemere hummed. “Iago,” he repeated, enjoying the way the name rolled off his tongue. “I like it.” Grinning, he held out his right hand as he’d seen humans do in greeting. “I am very pleased to meet you, Iago.”

When Iago lifted his right to take Lindemere’s, his gaze fell to the bandage around it, and his brows furrowed.

Realizing his error didn’t stop him from ever-so-gently cradling Iago’s hand between both of his own. Dipping his head, he pressed a light kiss to the back of his amina’s bandaged wrist. “I’m sorry you were injured in the fight, Iago,” he murmured, lifting his head to meet his human’s gaze. “I will take good care of you while you heal.”

Iago’s eyes gleamed behind his gold-rimmed frames. “I-I want to go home.”

Lindemere sighed. “I’m sorry. Of all the things you would wish for, that’s the one I cannot yet grant.” After releasing Iago’s hand by placing it back on the human’s blanket-covered thigh, he slid his hand to his amina’s knee and squeezed reassuringly. “But that will not be for all time.”

Easing from the bed, Lindemere rose. “Would you care for a meal? You must be hungry after sleeping for so long.”

Iago stared up at him, his lips parting a bit. He swept his gaze up and down Lindemere’s frame. His shoulders tensing anew, he nibbled his bottom lip.

The scent of unease intensified, tickling Lindemere’s sensitive nostrils with its pungent aroma.

“Please.” Lindemere took a step backward, offering Iago a bit of space. “I will feed you and share all the answers to your other questions.”

Iago’s expression of distrust was clear on his face, causing a pang of sadness to spike through Lindemere.

Trying again, Lindemere offered, “I’ll build a fire in the fireplace. The front room is comfortably appointed. You could relax and watch me work. Ask me anything, and I’ answer honestly.”

Swallowing hard enough to cause his Adam’s apple to bob along the slender column of his neck, Iago finally nodded once. “O-Okay.”

Pleased by his amina’s acceptance, Lindemere grinned. “Are you well enough to stand? Or should I carry you?” While Lindemere understood that it was Iago’s wrist that was sprained, not his ankle, he wasn’t certain if his extended sleep had removed all residual effects of his human crossing through the mist barrier between realms.

“I think I can walk,” Iago claimed.

Iago kept a wary eye on Lindemere as he eased to the side of the bed. When he went to grip the comforter with his right hand, he hissed, quickly tucking that hand against his chest. Lindemere took a step forward, his instincts urging him to assist, but Iago’s scowl stayed his action.

Except, when Iago went to stand, his knees buckled, a cry escaping him.

Seeing his amina begin to fall, Lindemere lunged forward and swept him into his arms. He cradled Iago to his chest, wrapping his wings around him protectively. Ignoring the way his human tensed, holding himself stiffly in his arms, Lindemere strode from the bedroom.

“You asked what happened, why you were sleeping for a day,” Lindemere murmured, needing to fill not only the silence, but to uphold his end of their deal. “Do you remember the fight in the warehouse? When the Four Horsemen fought against the guards holding the paranormals prisoner? My master and his brothers freed me as well as the others. Do you remember that?”

“I remember a group interfering with our work and stealing our test subjects.”

Lindemere grimaced upon hearing Iago’s belligerent tone. Damn. This is going to be harder than I thought. Sighing he settled Iago on the hide-covered sofa to the left of the fireplace. With the drapes drawn over the windows, the area was cast in shadows, so Lindemere headed to the dining space and lit an oil lamp.

Glancing over his shoulder, Lindemere commented, “Yes, well, those four guys were my master, Death and his brothers, Famine, War, and Pestilence.” He saw the way Iago narrowed his eyes, his expression still disbelieving. “Someone cannot just kidnap a demon without consequences.”

Iago’s jaw clenched, the muscle there flexing.

When he still didn’t respond, Lindemere sighed and crossed to the hearth. “Anyway, during the fight, you picked up a gun from one of the fallen guards. I can only assume you intended to shoot at one of the horsemen. Not a wise decision, by the way.” He busied himself building a fire, coaxing the purple flames to life with practiced moves. “My master’s human lover took exception to that and stopped you.”

In his mind, Lindemere winced, remembering his amina’s fear-filled cry and the sound of his wrist slamming against the corner of a cage. It’d caused his heart to skip a beat in his chest and rage unlike anything he’d ever felt before to flare within him. Only Death’s order to release him had stopped Lindemere from eviscerating Daren.

Once the flames caught, Lindemere turned back to face Iago, taking in his tight form, how his arms were tucked around himself, and the mutinous scowl on his face.

What will it take to get through to him?

“Anyway, I don’t know if it was pain or shock, but you passed out. As you are my amina, I brought you here to rest and heal.” Lindemere rose, heading toward the food preparation area. After lighting a lamp there, too, he added, “It can be hard on a human the first few times they cross through the mist barrier and into another realm, so I think that, combined with the injury and shock, is why you slept for nearly a day.”

Lindemere waited for that to sink in, reaching down and opening the food storage pantry under his home.

“What’s an amina?”

Turning, Lindemere focused on Iago. With his heart hammering in his chest, he explained, “When a demon is created by the gods, they are assigned to one of the four horsemen. After completing one thousand years of service, the gods grant us an amina, a person who will be our partner for eternity by bonding their soul with our essence. For me, that person is you.”