Chapter 14

14

After the entree, we’re given a palate cleanser in the form of a sorbet. It’s just a couple of bites, but it’s delicious, then comes a dessert wine that’s so sweet, I’m about to ask where I can get it, but Darcy assures me that this particular brand is only available for several hundred dollars per bottle and that the best I can do in the states is Moscato.

I’m going to try Moscato as soon as I get home. Well, I’ll pick up a bottle the next time I go grocery shopping.

As we’re enjoying a pastry dessert that’s light and fluffy, there’s a shout from the street below. We both glance over to see a woman throwing up her hands as a man runs down the street with what I assume is her purse.

Darcy jumps up, flicks his fingers toward the purse snatcher, and rumbles a curse. A second later, the guy faceplants into the road, and a car runs him over.

“That’s not what I expected for an after dinner show.”

Darcy drains his glass of wine and winks at me. “Karma’s a bitch. I’m karma, by the way.”

I laugh at that, but Darcy’s face tells me that he’s not actually joking. “Really?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Yes, sort of. We talked about choices before, remember? I’m the person in charge of ensuring your choices bring a net neutral until the universal balance is restored.“ He pauses, glancing at the scene below where the purse snatcher is no longer moving and the woman has regained her purse. The person who hit the guy is yelling at him for falling into the road, and the sirens of the incoming aid let us know that they’ll all be ok. Maybe not great, but definitely ok.

“You do need to rebalance the universe, so I guess hitting them with karma as soon as you can is a good idea. It’s going to take more than you hitting one person at a time though. How’re you going to affect the entire universe from Earth? You probably need to hit a bunch of planets and realms with chain reactions, you know?”

The universe is big, and one little incident in the streets of Paris isn’t going to fix it.

Darcy leans back, sipping his wine as he broods in sexy silence.

Silence can be sexy, especially when a hot guy who looks like he belongs on a stage with ten thousand fans screaming at him does it. I’m not even a fan of K-pop, but I’d obsess over any group that had Darcy in it. Whatever else he is, he’s a whole vibe and a mood, and I’m into it.

“Systematically setting off chain reactions in strategic places all around the universe with the goal of returning the balance to seventy/twenty-seven/three? That’s a good idea. A month ago the universe was dealing with an eighty-eight/twelve split, and then Edovard—that’s Romily’s adopted son—spent a week in the company of the Avatar of Evil and fixed the balance to ninety/ten. It baffled everyone paying attention to the balance of the universe, but that’s basically what he did. He made changes to the actions that evil dot org was taking, and those changes, while evil in intent, created a net good.”

“Evil dot org? That’s a thing?” That's surprising, but also kind of cool.

“If you have the right IP address, typing that into the search bar will get you to the Avatar of Evil’s website, yes. Good dot org will get you to the Avatar of Good’s website. I don’t have one and never will. In fact, the only way to get in contact with me is if you already know how to get in contact with me. That’s how I operate, and I’m not changing that just ‘cause I’m allegedly a public figure now. Fuck Neutrality with a cactus dildo in all o’ it’s open holes.”

He still isn’t all that thrilled with being the Avatar of Neutrality, but, “I think you’re going to be the best Avatar possible for this project.”

He huffs and shakes his head. “Sure. C’mon, Peach, let’s go see the Great Wall. I’m eager to get back in your delectable ass.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice, but I don’t stand with him because we haven’t paid. “Dude, the check. This one is on you because I paid for breakfast, remember?”

Darcy smiles wide, showing all his teeth. It’s not one of his joyful smiles. “It’s on me,” he rumbles, and this guy walks away from the table, down the stairs, and straight out of the restaurant without paying.

I follow him because this isn’t my treat. I already did that. This one’s on him, and if he’s not going to pay, the consequences are also on him.

Outside, Darcy throws his glittery dust onto the place where the array landed. It’s basically midnight in Paris, but the streets are still busy enough that it’s a wonder watching the people walk around the array like it’s not even there. They don't even look at Darcy, nor acknowledge that they’re moving around him and the array. It’s pretty impressive watching that.

The ma?tre d’ rushes up to me as I step outside. “Sir, you need to pay for the meal you ate. Come inside to settle the bill.”

“That’s not on me,” I tell him, pointing at Darcy.

The guy doesn’t even look. “Sir, come inside to pay the check.” He gestures firmly at the door.

“Darcy.” It’s my turn to have a note of warning in my tone.

Darcy’s array floats over to me and he bends, offering me his hand. “Hop on, Peach.”

I take his hand and put my foot on the array, letting him pull me up and keep me steady while doing it. The ma?tre d’ glances around, confused, then he turns around and heads back into the restaurant like I disappeared from sight and memory.

“You realize that this means you still owe me, right?” I actually paid for the curry, and I’m not letting him pay me back with dine and ditch.

Darcy laughs as the array rises, squeezing my fingers where he’s still holding them. “I spilled blood for your evening, you don’t think that counts?”

“Pfft. You gotta actually pay. Spilling blood is as common as breathing for you,” I disagree.

Darcy gives me that one with a dip of his chin. “That’s the truth. Alright, I’ll get the next one.”

“Not breakfast. I’ve already got that taken care of,” I remind him. I’m really looking forward to breakfast curry. With a full belly and a leg that kind of hurts, I release his hand and ease myself onto the floor of the array again. “Have you ever had real porridge? The kind made with milk and honey? The curry place offers porridge for half the day. It’s really good, too.”

A soft smile splits his lips, but he hides by turning his head to look out at the blurry scenery. “Yeah, I’ve had real porridge. There have been centuries where porridge and stew were the main meals of the day.”

“I bet living for thousands of years will give you a pretty diverse palate, huh?”

Darcy squats beside me, wrapping his arms around his legs like before. “Mostly people ate whatever they could harvest that wouldn’t kill them. I’ve only recently become interested in gastronomy. It’s a luxury of this century that’s become accessible to the masses, and the advancement of culinary sciences have made it interesting.”

“How recently?” I’m curious what someone of his advanced age would consider recent.

“Just a couple hundred years.”

I snicker at that. “Being immortal means you’ll never run out of food to try, so it’s not like you have to be in a hurry to get everything squished into one lifetime. I bet you’ve had a lot of cool food experiences, even before you got into gastronomy.”

He stares into the distance, and the words that follow come from a place of pain. “All sorts of experiences.”

He reaches out, and I take his hand, proud of him for trusting me with part of his burden. “Like what?” I keep my voice soft and gentle; he’s thinking of something, but he wants me to ask.

Darcy grimaces, but instead of changing the subject, he stays quiet for a few tense moments before blowing out a breath. “I hated Lilith and Bacchus and was more than happy to end them because I hated them. I would have killed them before, but I didn’t figure out how to, and it required a lot more energy than I was willing to put into them. My hatred wasn’t a hot thing, just a cold feeling at the bottom of the barrel where occasionally I’d dig it up by accident. Sometimes I’d think, ‘I could just go down there and kill ‘em,’ but I knew I couldn’t. Bacchus, yeah, that guy was completely killable without much planning, but Lilith? She had my number. I didn’t know how to kill her, but when the Foxilys just decided to hop on down and murder ‘em, that was the chance I needed.”

“What did Lilith do to you?” It feels like he wants me to ask. I get it. It’s hard to say a thing unless you’re asked to say it, especially when it’s traumatic, and I have the feeling that Darcy’s story here is one of survival.

“I have seven thousand years of memories. Not that I remember everything that I’ve ever done, but the memories are there for seven thousand years of my life. I have no idea how many centuries or millennia of memories I don’t have. I was born in Lilith’s custody, and however long I was alive before I broke free of her, I remember nothing of that time except a deep, icy hatred. I don’t know what she did to me. The only thing I have from that time is my hatred and a few scars.” He stretches out one of his legs, pulling his pant leg up to his knee. He manually turns his calf muscle enough for me to spot a brand on the back of his leg surrounded by a tattoo of what I’d call occult symbols, but it’s probably the written words of a language I don’t read.

“It looks like a…”

“Cunt. It looks like a cunt because it is her cunt. She branded me with her own body.”

It does look like a woman’s downstairs, with a clear labia, clitoris, and vaginal opening. It’s… “Did she just sit on you? Was her crotch that hot?”

“I don’t remember, but it’s the magical brand that tied us together. I broke the bond that allowed her full control over me, but the curse of the mark prevented me from harming her. Everything that I would have done to her, would have been fulfilled in my body. If I cut her, the cut would appear on me. I can take a cut, but decapitating her would have decapitated me. I don’t think decapitation would kill me, but it would stop me. Someone would have to put me back together.”

“I’d put your head back on your shoulders if you lost it.” It’s awesome that he can heal from that.

The smile that lifts the corners of his lips is affectionate and pleased, and he lifts my fingers to that smile, kissing my knuckles. “Thanks, Peach.”

“You’re welcome. So, I wouldn’t suggest this to just any rando I met with a brand and tattoo like this, but why not remove it? She’s dead, right? Get rid of it.” I figure if he can heal from a cut on his arm, the scar from removal is probably better than the brand.

He glances down at it. “Never thought to. Out of sight, out of mind.” He pulls his favorite knife from its sheath and he presses the edge of it to his skin. After a moment’s hesitation, he stops and pulls the knife away. “It’s a bad angle.”

“Yeah, getting the back of your leg is a challenge, especially if you need to see what you’re doing,” I agree, holding out my hand. “I got you.”

He frowns at me. “Have you ever skinned an animal?”

I laugh at that. “Nah. I’m a farm boy—we grew crops and sent animals to the butcher. I’ve plucked a few fowl, but we didn’t skin them before roasting them.”

Darcy slides the knife into a sheath on his hip. “I’ve got a few people I can ask who have some experience skinning animals.”

“Probably smarter to do it that way,” I agree.

Darcy peers at me for a brief moment before sitting back on his butt and leaning back on his hands, mirroring my pose. “Pull your dick out and stroke yourself for me.”

The immediate shot of yes-of-course-sir that stirs up my libido makes me reach for my pants, opening them with all due haste. “If you make me come now, I might not be able to later when you’re fucking me,” I warn him. “I’m fine with not coming every time sex happens. Sometimes a guy just needs a connection to another guy and orgasms aren’t required for that.”

That smirk he wears when he’s up to something naughty reappears on his pretty face. “I can guarantee you come every time you want to, Peach, but a little edging ain’t never hurt a body.”

“Never edged myself,” I admit, stroking my quickly hardening cock as I was told to.

Darcy watches my hand move up and down my shaft. “Fuck a Sunday sacrament, Peach. That pretty lil cock’s gonna haunt my dreams fer a lifetime.”

I chuckle at the thought that my cock would be anything special, especially compared to the one snaking down the leg of his skinny jeans.

“Nah, don’tcha laugh. Yer cock is gorgeous. I might need to immortalize it in silicone before I letcha go. Stroke the tip. Spread that drop of precum around fer me. Good, Peach. Fuck. Just like that.”

Instructions are hot to take, and his voice makes obeying easy. “Fuck,” I whisper as I use my thumb to spread the precum around the tip.

“I’m gon’ have to get me a taste of that purdy lil thing,” Darcy drawls, slowly stroking over the length of his shaft. “C’mere, Peach. Put your cock in my mouth. Gimme a taste of that.”

Fuck me.

I scramble to my knees as he lies back. I swing my leg over his chest, crawling up his body until I’m in the right position. “Cradle my head and fuck my mouth,” he orders me.

He opens his mouth and sucks my cock in as I cup my hands around the back of his neck and head. I groan at the warm, wet heat and the dance of his tongue along my shaft. His deep baritone hum vibrates through my shaft as I cautiously pump my hips, pulling his head closer. My balance falters, but he catches me, grabbing my hips with both hands to stabilize me.

“Fuck, this is everything,” I rasp, reveling in the slide of my cock in and out of his mouth.

I hit the back of his throat with every slide, but he doesn’t even bat an eye at the intrusion. He pulls me closer when I thrust, and then holds me there, refusing to allow me to withdraw. Instinctively I clutch his head closer and push my cock further, and then he swallows. He eases my hip back and I take the hint, pulling out. He sets a rhythm he likes with gentle pressure from his grip on my hips, and I thrust in accordance with his nonverbal instructions. As the pleasure builds, my pace quickens and my cock slips farther down his throat with every pass.

Holding his head and watching my cock disappear into his mouth is a sight that burns into my memory. His eyes tell me he’s in control, that I’m the debauched one, and the knowledge of that steals my breath. Panting and shaking from the pleasure of it all, it’s far too soon when my eyes roll back in my head and the base of my spine starts tingling to let me know that I need to stop if this is really just an edging session.

“Gonna come,” I confess, crying as Darcy pushes my hips back and pulls off my cock altogether.

“Well done,” he praises me, rubbing my ass and squeezing it as a reward for behaving even though I could have just come down his throat and let his magic take me to heaven later.

I slowly get off him, sitting on my ass as I breathe through the heat of an impending orgasm. The tension eases with each breath, but I think three good strokes and I’d have shot off if he hadn’t stopped me. It hurts to pull back from that.

“Edging sucks,” I grouse, deciding the only way to stop myself from touching my dick is to sit on my hands.

He chortles like a villain, and I think he might be, at the very least, an antihero. “The payoff is worth it.”

I huff and look away to distract myself. My breath stills. In the bright afternoon light, the Great Wall of China snakes through the dense Badaling National Forest, standing as a testament to human achievement.

“Look at that,” I breathe, mentally ticking this off my bucket list.

“Zip up, Peach. Let’s walk dinner off,” Darcy orders me as the array descends to the top of the wall.

This is the best hookup ever.