2

Beelzebub

Wally's entire face beamed, captivated by the beginning of the Fae interlude meant to entrance patrons as they witnessed their performance alongside the mortals in Regular Rhapsody. Wally leaned close, resting his head against my shoulder, eyes still watching the stage in awe. I breathed in the scent of the fruity shampoo he used on his curly, blond hair. It mixed with the delight oozing from his pores.

"Fae Divinity is the rarest of rare events," he said, hazel eyes refusing to blink because he had to view it all, know it all, experience it all. "They perform for the audience of unaware spectators, reveal mysteries of their realms—but supposedly different things to each person in attendance, sort of like a private show within the show that's already wrapped inside another show—and this causes those who experience it a subliminal memory of inspiration."

Wally yammered on about the Fae as if I had no knowledge on the topic, despite being the one who orchestrated our date night. With a bit of help from Mora, naturally. It was thanks to her extensive connections that Wally and I found such lucrative freelance work. When she approached me on the importance of celebrating anniversaries, she claimed this was the event of the century, one Wally would adore well into the next century. Yet I didn't see her clamoring to snag a pair for herself and Kell when procuring me these terrible seats.

I stared at the private balcony seating above as Wally continued his incessant rambling about theories behind the gyrating movements of the pink Fae he called dancing. It seemed the mortals had a better skill with it than these fairies.

I sighed.

Nothing about this event seemed all that fascinating. Truthfully, the so-called concord of the added Fae frequencies took away from the true instrumental harmony of Regular Rhapsody. Quite a disappointment. Clearly, when Mora praised the unique appeal, she must've meant for mortal spectators. At least Wally enjoyed himself.

"You see, they sow these seeds into audience members, then send them off to accomplish all sorts of amazing things," Wally continued, an excited tremble in his voice. "Big and small. It's like a ricochet of inspiring events because, again supposedly, those seeds of inspiration can spread to others who didn't see it, leaving them yearning to find their passions, and in turn passing that desire onto those they meet."

"So, it's like a disease?" I smirked.

"No. It's good." Wally's lips tightened into an unwanted grimace before a smile fully set in again—he couldn't be bothered during such a spectacle of the lone pink Fae dancing and singing and beguiling all. "Some people go on to become performers, too, others healers, artisans, philanthropists, protectors, or simply kinder people. It fuels their desires, which in turn, the Fae supposedly absorb and strengthen their magic off the sparks of fulfillment they've conjured. No one knows for sure—though, I did a thesis and have quite a few theories—but the enthrallment hits every single person in the audience and—"

"I am aware."

"Of course. Sorry." Wally's eyes almost flitted in my direction, yet he remained attached to the incoming Fae frolicking onto the stage, accompanying the first. They moved with the gentle finesse of ballerinas while another floated close to the rafters reciting sonnets of dead poets and mixing languages both known and unheard in this world.

I did find the appearance of the Fae strutting about the stage intriguing, each resembling a mortal form more dominantly than anything else, not what I'd anticipated. Many Mythic had mortal-esque features, bipedal in nature, some more animalistic and quadrupeds. Yet I'd always heard the Fae had a range of aesthetics almost as diverse as Diabolics, so perhaps they augmented their features to blend for whatever reason.

"It's a shame I'll forget this," Wally whispered. "I mean, I could take notes—but I suppose someone else would've thought of that, too. After all, it was the Fae who introduced glamouring to mages during the accords several millennia ago. They're quite secretive. More secretive than the Collective…"

Damn, he was going to explain the entire history of the Fae instead of simply enjoying the performance. I huffed, releasing my own resentment to make room for his joy. For Wally, discussing every aspect was part of the fun he'd have when recalling this memory. And he would recall it.

"You won't forget a thing," I said.

He snickered. "I wish."

"Walter, the Fae have power which compels all things of this world from the mortals to the Mythics, to the arcane magics and mysteries of nature."

"That's what I was saying. Weren't you listening?"

"I was." I moved in close to his neck, nuzzling the back of his ear with my nose and tickling his skin with soft breaths. "As I said, the Fae control all that comes from this world, not that which dwells in it. Their sway holds no bounds over the Diabolic."

"And since I have your essence…" He practically squealed. "That means I'll remember this."

"Just another benefit of having me inside you." I blew a kiss.

He rolled his eyes, playing hard to get poorly because as his eyes went back to the stage, his hand landed on my leg, quickly drifting up my thigh and resting there.

"No one remembers their encounters with the Fae. Even mere glimpses are wiped from one's mind. I should document it. No. Maybe. No one else has. Although that might draw their ire, and we already have the Collective breathing down our necks. That could be part of why there aren't documented encounters with the Fae. Well, none with their physical presence. Always with their relics, carrying a message they wish to share. I wouldn't want to anger the Fae, but what if others wanted to know about this? There could be some curious mage working on research who'd benefit."

"Maybe you should address all these questions after the performance." I kissed his cheek tenderly with reeled-back affection. I wanted to pull him in close and kiss his lips with fiery intensity, especially after two weeks away, procuring artifacts for his clients and running extra errands for Mora while she figured out where and when the damned Fae would appear.

I stifled my desires, though, because I wouldn't take away from this moment. After all, I was irresistible, and poor Wally would find himself so enamored by pleasing me, he'd miss the entirety of this simple show.

I wasn't certain why he or anyone else found the Fae so intriguing. They were simply secretive Mythics with a higher tier of magic that allowed them control over dimensions and to create meager temporal folds in reality. Basically, knockoff Diabolics—equally as murderous, from what I recalled.

"Look. He's handing out seeds of passion to everyone." Wally's legs bounced as he watched a violet-skinned Fae hovering through the audience. His butterfly wings fluttered, sprinkling glitter, while he carefully placed a shimmering seed atop the heads of each person he flew past. Their euphoric haze remained, and magic washed over them, radiating, then seeping into their skin.

"You never get this excited when I give you my seed—and I do so with far more passion than this fairy."

"This is sacred, ceremonial," he whispered, ears burning bright red. "Don't make it dirty."

"Ah," I said, leaning in close enough to graze my teeth along his earlobe. "Perhaps you're reminiscing your enthusiasm for my seed, after all."

"Shush. He's approaching. No funny business."

"But of course."

I averted my gaze when the Fae arrived; he floated before us, extending his golden-taloned hand and revealing a glowing green seed. Wally scooched closer, eyes wide and a smile filling his entire beautiful face. How he must've wondered what passion this seed would offer. I only hoped it didn't add to his already-driven compulsion for research. Gods, he had enough motivation and fulfillment there.

The violet Fae lingered, trepidation in his creased brow. He closed his hand, clutching it and the seed close to his chest, then flew away.

"Oh, no." Wally sighed. "Did I…did I do something wrong?"

Despair consumed him as he sank into his seat, casting his eyes downward as if he no longer saw himself worthy of witnessing the sparkle of the Fae performance.

"Get your glittering ass back over here and give us our stupid seeds of inspiration," I growled, "or so help me, you fairy fuck, I'll rip those wings off and stuff them so far down your throat you'll be—"

"Bez, stop. You'll cause a scene." Wally pressed his hand against my chest, his pulse thrumming almost as rapidly as my enraged heart.

"I'll cause a lot more if that tiny-pricked bastard doesn't get back here." I stood, adjusting my rolled sleeves, fully intent on plucking out a Fae's still-beating heart.

Several of the dawdling dancers froze on the stage. Music continued as one feathered Fae hummed in the band's ears, casting more waves of rainbow-hued notes into the air. I was a few seconds away from unleashing black flames to burn down this entire theater.

"It's okay." Wally squeezed my arm. "I'm honored just to be here, to hold onto this memory. I don't need inspiration or passion. I get both from you. Don't, you know, kill anyone."

"I'd never." I allowed his grip to pull me back into the seat. "Simply wished to have a word with them is all."

The rhythm of instruments slowed, softening. All Fae halted their movements, stiff but not frozen. Their gaze, no matter where they stood or hovered, peered upward toward a single balcony seat where a low chime rang. Glitter carried static through the auditorium, mixed with a screech. Bubbles blossomed, each exploding and releasing a foul note.

"This must be the Fae dialect," Wally said. "Their actual voice. It's beautiful."

It was ugly, a noise reminiscent of the beeping screeches Wally's lap computer would make when it turned a sickly blue and died merely at my attempt to use it.

A snow-white hand waved from the balcony. Gaudy, golden rings covered the long, slender fingers of this individual's hand, their arm covered in the sleeve of a fine red coat. Whoever sat there hidden away kept captive attention from the performers with that simple gesture.

The pink Fae who began the performance skipped along the air like she bounced from hidden clouds beneath her bare feet. Retrieving a seed from the Fae who'd denied Wally, she made her way toward us, dropping the glowing green seeds before turning on her heel and fluttering back to the stage.

The seed stopped short of landing, floating before my entranced mage as he watched tiny roots crack the shell, preparing to offer inspiration.

The roots of mine reached out, whispering high-pitched Fae tunes, and I snatched the seed with black and crimson tendrils, devouring it beneath my essence. All the magics carried inside the seed decayed to nothingness. I didn't desire inspiration, so I repurposed the power into fuel.

A snap of fingers boomed throughout the auditorium, and the snow-white hand retreated as the musical notes of the performance continued.

"Absolutely stunning." Wally didn't sit awestruck for long, though.

He traced tiny sigils of intricate incantations around the growing seed which sought to attach itself to him. Protective wards sprang to life, taking the shape of a cube no bigger than a six-sided die, and locked the seed inside.

"Stealing?" I tsked, shaking my head as disapprovingly as I could muster without breaking out into laughter. "Shame on you."

"I'm not stealing," he whispered, tucking the warded seed in his jacket pocket. "You can't expect me to pass on the opportunity to study unfiltered Fae magics."

"For shame, Walter," I teased. "I don't expect to hear you call out my so-called thievery after this."

"This isn't stealing, Bez. They gave me the seed for inspiration," he said, determined to justify himself. "I simply believe I'll find it more inspiring to study than to have it course through me."

"I wouldn't want anything other than me inside you anyway." I winked.

Wally blushed, returning his attention to the ongoing performance.

I continued enduring the banal show of Fae trying too hard to shoehorn in the unique styles of a dozen different Mythic arts, watering them down for mortal eyes, and butchering classical wonders with off-key melodies. All the while, Wally remained captivated. His hand bounced on my thigh, not in a desiring sense, but one craving to scribble notes. I could assuredly discern the gears of his mind whirled with a thousand different tests he'd planned on using in his study of Fae magic. Of course, this would all come after he'd properly preserved the seed, keeping the energy intact.

Without his repository, he lacked the true foundations to complete tasks as he once did. Perhaps that should be something I strive to obtain for him, yet it'd only become a hassle moving such an assortment of tools every couple of months. Hopefully, he'd remain content even if I couldn't offer him everything like I'd so boldly professed when dragging him from Seattle.

I remained lost in his lovely eyes until the performance ended. As the final bows set in, Fae vanished from the stage, and the audience returned to themselves, applauding for the illusion weaved into their memories, but none clapped as hard as Wally, who rose to his feet, unknowingly inviting others into an undeserved standing ovation.

Wally could barely contain himself as we exited, snorting at the mortals making sense of the lost time, those dazed by the inspiration that'd hit them come morning, and the subtle waves of glittering Fae hands as they veiled themselves behind the fabric of this realm.

"This was the most amazing night ever." He strutted beside me, arm wrapped around my waist, squeezing and holding me close. "So what's next?"

"Next?" I asked, lingering by the exit, indulging in the soft movement of fingers which lightly strummed, tugging at the fabric of my shirt tucked into my slacks. "What more could this city possibly have to offer you?"

"No dinner plans, nightcap somewhere, sightseeing perhaps?"

"Have you not had your fill of excitement, my love?

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Suppose you're right. Not sure anything could top that." He smiled, hand sliding until he gripped the front of my belt and pulled me toward an unoccupied wall neighboring the front doors. "Well, almost nothing."

Stepping in close, my chest warmed, heat spreading throughout my body as Wally trailed his knuckles under my shirt, running them along my abdomen.

"We should probably get home," he whispered. "I'd like to show you how much I appreciate just how thoughtful you can be."

"Why wait until we get home?" I leaned in, kissing Wally.

His sweet lips tasted of strawberries, always the most delicious fruity flavors from his lip balms. I kept myself reserved during the performance, but now I wished for nothing more than to have him, hold him, unleash all my pent-up desire. The kiss, which began gentle, turned assertive, biting, all-consuming.

Wally rubbed my sides, running his hands up to my ribcage, then hesitated. They initially went to my back, prepared to reel me in closer. His leg had lifted, thigh rubbing against mine. But he stopped himself, stopped me by shifting his hands to my front, pushing away just enough to separate our lips.

"PDA, Bez." He nodded to mortal bystanders gawking, clearly jealous.

"No worries, my shy beauty. Not a soul will see or hear the pleasures I intend to elicit from you." I unveiled my wings, releasing a gust of black wind carrying a fast-acting haze to completely cloak our presence. "Shall we continue?"

"Bez. I'm not letting you fuck me against the wall of a crowded lobby." Wally giggled, grabbing my hand and pulling us toward the exit.

"Prude."

"Watch it." He tightened his grip, interlocking his fingers between mine. "As flattering as a Diabolic haze in The Chicago Theatre is, I was thinking something a bit more secluded."

I wanted him now, but I'd respect his need for privacy. "I'll have us home in fifteen."

"I hope not." He rested his head on my shoulder, his tongue teasing my ear and warm breath sending a quiver down my spine. "I wanted to revisit your proposition on the mile-high club. Not sure I could handle joining the club if you went too fast."

"Are you screwing with me?"

"Never." He kissed my neck. "Well, there will be screwing, but I was hoping you'd be the one doing it."

I placed my hand on the small of his back and guided him to the door where it'd take everything not to mount him the second the crisp air of the night hit.

A collection of pink butterflies materialized at the entryway of the door, forming the pink Fae who'd led the performance and delivered our trivial seeds of inspiration. Her stance appeared playful, her smile sincere, but her eyes were wide and locked onto Wally.

I stepped ahead of him, flexing my muscles and nearly tearing the cheap fabric of this suit—I wasn't sure how much longer this host body would hold all my glory.

"What do you want, fairy?" I clamped my jaw.

"Walter Alden, the mage wanted by the Collective, attending our performance," she said with a dismissive shake of her head. "This evening, you were gifted inspiration, coveted magic kept secret, and somehow managed to walk away with it almost entirely unnoticed. The baron wishes for an accounting of these observations."

"Your baron can go fuck himself." Coating my hand in essence, I manifested outstretched black claws and lunged forward, prepared to gut her.

She vanished.

In the seconds it took to plant my arm where her heart should've been, a flurry of butterflies fluttered in her place, reappearing behind Wally.

"The baron only wishes for words with the mage." She snapped her fingers, and Wally exploded into a million silvery specks of glitter, each fading to nothingness before a single fleck hit the floor.

In an instant, this Fae had abducted Wally.

I roared, furiously flapping my wings as the pink Fae transformed into her gathering of butterflies. Summoning a massive whirlwind, I whipped about all the feeble mortals in this lobby, focusing the wind on pulling these colorful insects into my grasp.

She'd either rematerialize, or I'd spend the night ripping the wings off each and every one of her tiny bug decoys until she returned my mage.

Snatching one of the butterflies, it crumpled like an autumn leaf in my hand, burning with pink fire and leaving only embers in my palm. Every single butterfly followed suit, leaving a pink inferno swirling around the wind I'd conjured.

I dropped to my knees, tightening the tether connecting me to Wally and feeling only the faintest snag of his presence.

No. I had to find him