Ayame: Less Than Whole

Less Than Whole

by Ayame

Notes: This is a story that I've been writing and rewriting since 2003. It's important to me, and I enjoy working on it. I hope you enjoy reading what I have finished so far.

Other notes: M/M and other sexual references... some swearing... Ebon is a big-boned fella. If none of that floats your boat, too bad.

The night after Ebon Honda gave away his soul, he lay huddled on the floor of his parents’ shower. The water was hot and beat against his shoulders. He blinked water out of his black eyes and tasted it constantly in his mouth and as it ran into his nose. He hugged his lean body tightly, making himself into an embryonic ball.

He heard his mother come in and out of the bathroom. He had the curtains pulled and did not see her face. She expressed concern of a general sort, then grew cross with his silence and left. His twin sister, Des, came inside and pushed the curtains aside. The water was growing lukewarm when she reached down and touched him on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry Ebon, I’ll do everything I can to fix it.”

Like his life was a car. He had given away his soul!

He did not move. She removed her hand as the water grew cold. She didn’t leave him alone, but she didn’t speak either. She said, “Remember when we were little? And I used to try to swing high enough to flip over the swing set? Remember?”

Ebon didn’t say anything. But Des reached over and turned off the cold water. She retrieved a towel and tossed it at him. Again, he didn’t move, but he was shivering. Des sighed and leaned over, drying his body herself. She tried to get him to sit up, but even though Des was strong and over 6 feet tall, Ebon was even taller. He was lean, but well-muscled. He was too heavy for Des to lift.

From under the blue towel he said, “I remember. I didn’t want you to do it.”

“I know. You have always protected me. It’s my turn now. I will fix it.”

His eyelashes were heavy. He was cold and his long black hair was clinging to his back, itchy. He clutched the towel to his waist and stood. He looked at Des and laid a hand on her shoulder. “For you, I’d do it again, a thousand times.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“I did it. It’s done.”

His eyes were blank when he walked past her.

* * *

Ebon almost failed his last semester of library science school. He didn’t attend classes for several weeks and missed two midterms. He was a handsome man and in a department that was stereotypically full of plain-looking students, he stood out. He caught on that the Dean of Information Science liked to watch him.

He invited the dean over to his new house. He told him it was a house-warming party. When Dean Faraji entered the house, he was the only one there. Ebon sat in his sparsely furnished living room, his arms resting on the back of the sofa and grinned. “No one else showed up,” he said.

The dean smiled and didn’t look nervous. Ebon was glad. He didn’t like seducing nervous men. He liked it relaxed, cool, easy.

Dean Faraji was smaller than Ebon, wore thin wire-rimmed glasses and had deep brown skin. The Dean came over to the couch and leaned in for a tentative kiss. Ebon’s black eyes crinkled into thin crescents. He pulled the dean in for a deeper kiss, parting his lips with his tongue. The dean tasted like tobacco.

He felt the dean slip a hand under his shirt. It was warm and dry. Ebon’s chest was smooth. He had never developed a lot of body hair. He felt the dean brush against his nipples and then trace his fingers down over his flat stomach, feeling the hard bumps of his abdominal muscles. He let the dean pull his shirt over his head and then lay back on the couch, inviting him to look and watch as he unbuttoned his pants.

“How do you want it, dean? I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I know you will,” he said. He smiled and Ebon liked his smile, he realized. Only one thing nagged at him: he still felt like he was missing something. And he was. Only by now, after several months, he thought he’d be over it. He tried to push the thought away. It was easier to do when the dean wrapped his gorgeous lips around his cock.

It was easier, but not complete. The memory of losing his soul did not leave. It was always there. It was always there!

He realized that there was two of him experiencing this act of sex: the part that was enjoying it and another part that was almost disembodied, observing the act, standing apart because Ebon no longer quite belonged with the rest of the human race.

His body continued anyway, moving with rhythms that were well-practiced, using techniques automatically and without thought. When he climaxed, he screamed out loud. But it was the observer that screamed. It was the part of him that couldn’t connect anymore. The part that knew he was lost.

* * *

Aloysius Quinn was nearly done vaccinating cattle. He, Pablo Rosales and Kylie from Ireland had herded their Black Angus cattle into a chute near the ranch that led into a winding corral. It ended in a squeeze machine of sorts that held the cattle while Aloysius or one of the others vaccinated the creatures. Aloysius liked cows and enjoyed petting their wet noses and patting their round flanks.

He wiped sweat from his eyes and looked over at Kylie. Kylie nodded: they were almost done. Aloysius and his mother and uncle owned the ranch, but Kylie and Pablo probably knew more than even he did about taking care of animals.

Aloysius was glad they were nearly done. He liked working on the ranch, even better than he liked learning things from his mother when she home-schooled him. But as much as he enjoyed his work, it was just damn hot in Pecas, Texas. He felt fat drops of sweat form along his hairline, dripping into his ears and down his neck, underneath his long white plait of hair. He had huge, round sweat-stains all over his shirt and felt like there was a swamp inside his boots. Swampfoot, he thought and chuckled. He was really pale, too, and the sun always seemed to burn him badly.

Pablo and Kylie were lucky: they both had dark skin. Kylie was as dark a black person as Aloysius had ever seen. He even wore a lot of black. He had yellow eyes, though. They were really unusual. He claimed his grandmother was a fairy, but Aloysius knew him well enough to think he was kidding. Aloysius had known him his whole life. Pablo he’d known for 10 years. He met him when he was nine and thought he was just about the coolest guy ever. Pablo taught him Spanish. His hair was black and long and his skin was the color of tanned leather.

He squinted into the sun and saw Kylie beckoning to him. “That’s enough. We can leave the cattle in the enclosure for the night.”

Pablo nodded and spat tobacco juice on the ground. “I’ll make sure they’ve got enough hay and water.”

“Good enough,” Kylie said. He smiled at Aloysius. “Make sure the corral is locked up tight. Use that hex I taught you with it. It’ll keep coyotes out.”

Aloysius would have thought hexes were stupid, except he’d seen them work for himself. He had also seen that he was better at drawing them than Kylie. Pablo thought the whole thing was a whole lot of un-Christian nonsense, but he mostly kept that opinion to himself. He knew Aloysius well enough to know that a person could love God and still believe in “un-Christian nonsense” from time to time. He said once that he couldn’t hold it against him, as long as Aloysius didn’t mind the tobacco. Smoking was un-Christian, too.

A shift in the temperature hinted at the night to come. As the sun set, the heat of the day faded quickly. He needed to finish while they still had light. So he locked the door using the padlock, and then he drew a series of hexes and charms with a Sharpie marker. All were designed to protect the cattle within in various ways from the different dangers that range cattle faced. He felt the tightening of magic around the corral as his work took hold. He was proud of it, and let himself look at it out of the corners of his eyes. In this way, he could see the magic and even the auras around Kylie, Pablo and the cattle.

Then he trotted over to his horse and climbed into the saddle. The three set off back to the main house. They knew Mae, Aloysius’s mother, and his Uncle Russ would have dinner ready with vegetables fresh from the garden.

* * *

After dinner, all three washed up and Pablo went off to bed. Kylie pulled on his driving gloves and took one of the cars and went off to town to see a movie. Aloysius came back downstairs where Uncle Russ and his mother were chatting and drinking decaf coffee.

“Hey son, have a seat,” she said.

Aloysius smiled at her. She was in her fifties, like Uncle Russ. Both of them had gray hair and were wiry, energetic people. He sat down in front of her and she pulled out a wide brush from a basket next to the couch. She patiently smoothed and brushed his long, almost white hair. It fell to his waist and was thick and heavy. She was good at it and it felt nice to have someone work on his hair. Kylie and Pablo refused to help him untangle his hair and Uncle Russ said he was no good at it.

“So, Ally, are you still going on that trip later this month?”

“Yes, Uncle Russ, if everything goes well here and it’s still OK with you two.”

Mae said, “I don’t see any problems. You’ve not been outside of Pecas too often. Pablo will be visiting his family in Juarez later this month anyway. You and Kylie have fun.”

“You and Uncle Russ will be OK, right?”

Mae laughed. “Son, your Uncle Russ and I managed just fine before you were born, and we can do it again. You’re a young man. I should have asked if you wanted to take a trip ages ago.”

Aloysius smiled, even though he knew she couldn’t see. “Thanks, Mom. You’re right. I need it. As long as everything is squared away by month’s end, we’ll go.”

“Good.” Then she said, “Turn around.”

Aloysius did and she stood up to hug him. She was a tiny woman, and Aloysius was pretty tall at five-ten, so her head rested on his chest. She pulled away and looked up at him. “I’m proud of you, son, you know that right?”

“Yeah, but I’m not leaving yet! And then we’ll only be gone the weekend.”

“I know. Well, Russ, Aloysius, I’m going to turn in. See you in the morning.”

They both wished her goodnight.

Aloysius sat in front of the TV with Uncle Russ for a while. They watched the pre-season baseball games that were starting up already.

When he went to bed, he thought about talking to his mom. Something wasn’t completely right. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was there. He could have sworn that Uncle Russ seemed tense. He hoped it was his imagination. He didn’t want to miss his trip. Maybe that’s why she seemed a little weird and Uncle Russ, too. It was his first time so far from home, alone--well, without his mom at any rate.

That thought comforted him and he fell asleep, listening to loud crickets outside his open window.

* * *

Des visited Ebon in his new house after he graduated from the Library Science program. She’d brought a houseplant, a Boston fern, she said. They were supposed to make the air clean. Ebon touched the feathery leaves. They weren’t as soft as they looked. But it was pretty and he had a small solarium in the back of the house.

Ebon’s living room was still sparsely furnished, but there was a comfy couch near the fireplace and a table next to it with a pack of cigarettes and an ashtray. He put the plant next to the menthol cigarettes and sank into the couch. It seemed to swallow him. Des sat down across from him in another small chair. She watched him pick up the cigarettes.

“Want one?”

“Since when do you smoke?”

“Since I fucked Dean Faraji,” he said. He lit one of the cigarettes and drew in deeply.

“You did not!”

“I did. How do you think I passed and got my Master’s Degree? None of my work was up to par. My Master’s thesis was incomplete. He’s even giving me a good recommendation for the Special Collections job at the University Library.”

Des shook her head and stared at him. A cloud of haze hung around his head. She noticed he needed a haircut. His hair was getting rather shaggy. “Unbelievable.”

“Well, I am hot, right?”

Des rolled her eyes. Both of them shared good looks, but Ebon had always easily attracted others. He was gay, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a lot of women wanting his body, too. It seemed like everyone wanted him. Des had always had to try harder. She was more serious. While Ebon had partied, she’d studied. He didn’t seem to have changed much either since he lost his soul.

Except for the cigarettes and his hair, she amended. He had always been so careful before about his looks and his health.

“Why are you smoking, Ebon?”

“I don’t know… I mean, at first, I did it because Dean Faraji did and I figured ‘Why not’? Then I did it because the smoke filled me up inside—I could imagine it being inside of me. I feel so empty, Des. Now I do it especially when I think I want to end my life. Instead of killing myself outright, I can kill myself in inches. It’s better that way.”

Des didn’t know what to say. She was shocked.

Ebon watched her watching him. He felt nothing at all. He felt that way because he was getting good at pushing his feelings down deep inside of him. If he let them up, he would freak out. There was no afterlife for him. There was nothing. He’d given away the part of him that was eternal.

But he would have done it again. He could never have watched Des go through this. Never.

“How is your husband?” he asked to change the subject.

Des snapped out of her thoughts. “He’s OK, I guess. We don’t talk as much since the Summoning. I think maybe he feels guilty for talking me into it.”

“You know he still flirts with me.”

“I know. I wish I didn’t know, but I know.”

“When are you getting divorced?”

“Who said anything about divorce? I’d like things to work with me and Cedric. I’m sorry they’re not right now.”

Ebon lit another cigarette. “He’s not good for you. He’s not good enough for you.”

Suddenly she was cross. “But if he’d asked you to fuck him, you would have, wouldn’t you?”

Ebon leaned forward. “I don’t know, back before, maybe. Now, definitely not.”

“Why?”

Ebon laughed. “I’m talking casually about cuckolding you and you ask why I wouldn’t anymore?”

Des frowned. “Just answer the question.”

“Because there’s no point. That’s all.”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s what I mean. There’s not point in anything, really. I’m not sure how I keep getting up everyday or why. I look forward to smoking, though. I look forward to breakfast. That’s about it.”

Des came over to the couch. She was sobbing now and put her arms around him. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said. He hugged her. He didn’t tell her that she was one of the reasons he kept going. He didn’t know how to say it without sounding cheesy or like a sentimental after school TV movie. He hoped she knew anyway and held onto to her for as long as possible.

* * *

That night, Ebon’s dream returned. He could feel that it wasn’t exactly real, but it didn’t matter because it seemed as real as the day it had actually happened. He felt something, like a rip in his skin, only he could see that his long, lean body was still intact. He felt himself forced open, spread wide, even though he hadn’t moved at all. He felt himself being turned inside out and pulled and stretched until part of him broke a little. Like ripping seams out of a hem, the thing inside of him peeled away bit by bit. Over and over he heard himself screaming, but in the nearby mirror he saw his mouth was closed.

Finally, he woke. He sat up and gasped. He swore and pushed his long black hair out of his eyes. With fumbling fingers, he felt for his box of cigarettes in the dark. He lit one, smoked it, and lit another one off the first. His fingers trembled and he wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep again. He felt so empty, so completely empty.

The worst part about the nightmares is that they were like a digital recording of what had happened over a year ago: they didn’t vary in intensity. They didn’t fade a little over time. Every time he had this nightmare, he felt exactly the same as he had the day it happened. He saw his sister’s living room covered in charcoal drawings and chalk. He saw the furniture pushed to the walls, the fire burning in the fireplace, the demon standing handsome and reasonable in the middle of a pentagram. It was like reliving it every time.

He wanted to smoke again, but his throat felt so dry. He looked into the dark of his room, saw books filling the bookcases in the wall, saw the stars outside. He walked over to his bathroom sink and drank from the faucet until he was full of water.

He felt better. He felt so much better.

Even still, he lay awake for some time, staring at the ceiling, thinking nothing at all.

* * *

Finally! Aloysius was on the road, sitting shotgun next to his lifelong friend, Kylie. The goodbyes at home had been long, and Aloysius had found his mother’s normally welcome affections stifling and annoying. He groused about it to Kylie who at turns commiserated and defended his mother and uncle.

“I mean, I’m nineteen for Christ’s sake!”

“True, true.” Kylie replied, and then turned his eyes back to the road. He was a careful driver normally, but during this trip, he’d kept his eyes turned on Aloysius more often than usual. “She’s just worried about you. As am I.”

“You, too?”

“Duh. I am in charge of making sure you don’t do anything stupid in the city. We are going to El Paso. People get killed there.”

“What makes you think I’m going to do something stupid?”

“Young men always do stupid things.”

Aloysius wasn’t upset at this pronouncement. Instead, he grinned and pushed his white hair back. “What kind of stupid things did you do as a young man?”

Kylie smiled, showing all of his teeth, especially his sharp eye teeth. Against his black skin and the bright lemon yellow of the sun, they practically glowed white. He said, “I was never a young man, but when I was younger, I did many stupid things. That’s why I am where I am now.”

“What do you mean?”

“In Texas, driving a car, I mean. I love you, Aloysius. You’re like a brother to me, as much as anyone can be a brother to me. But my heart is in my home land, Ireland. You notice I always carry a bit of it around with me.” He patted his necklace with its heavy charm that rested against his skin. It was, in Aloysius’s mind, a very silly looking charm. It looked like a stylized four leaf clover. As a kid, Aloysius had teased Kylie about his “lucky charms.” Kylie never responded well to such jibes, saying he looked nothing like a leprechaun.

“I did so many stupid things; I was forced to leave my home country. You understand?”

Aloysius did—a little at any rate. Mostly, he was impressed that Kylie was sharing his life before he’d come to the ranch. Kylie did not talk much about his past. It was the only thing Aloysius could see that he kept to himself. Otherwise, Kylie was usually very open and friendly.

“So, how much farther?” he asked to change the subject.

“About four hours, I think. We can stop and get some junk food if you’d like.”

“I would like that.”

“I knew you would.” He was silent for some time, and Aloysius worked at trying to find a radio station that didn’t just play country or mariachi music.

Kylie glanced sideways at him, his yellow eyes sliding like a cat’s. “Hey, Ally, I was wondering if your mom ever told you anything about your dad.”

He looked up from the radio and shook his head. “She’s never talked about him. Never.”

“You ever wonder about your dad?”

“Not really.” Then he smiled. “Are you my dad?”

This made Kylie laugh. “Are you kidding? Look at how white and pasty you are!”

“I am not pasty.”

“Fish belly white, is what you are!”

“Did you know my father?”

“No, but I know of him. Because of that, I just want you to be careful in the city, OK?”

“OK, I was going to anyway. I don’t want to get murdered.” He gave Kylie a roll of his eyes that he knew Kylie saw.

“Aloysius, there’s really no good way to say this: I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about other people you might come in contact with.”

Aloysius started feeling scared. “Why?”

“Because of what I know about your father.”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

Kylie didn’t answer. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses and stared at the road. It was empty, just as it had been for the past hour or so. “I can’t. It’s not my place. I said more than I should. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t know about your father. I’m just saying it’s not my place.”

“Was he a criminal? Maybe a martial artist and I’ve inherited his killer reflexes?” He tried to sound light, like it didn’t matter to him. But Kylie took offense.

“It’s not a joking matter!” he snapped.

The car was so incredibly quiet for a long time. Kylie didn’t break the silence, but after a while, without looking for it, he found Aloysius’s hand and squeezed it. He held on for a long time, then let go.

“There’s a burger place off the road next exit,” he said.

“I’ll be careful,” Aloysius said.

“At the burger place? You’re right. There’s a lot of cholesterol in cheeseburgers.”

“No! You know what I mean.”

”I do, and I thank you.”

* * *

Stacey was a library assistant at the University Library. She’d been working there a lot longer than Ebon and showed him the ropes—the real ropes. She liked him, a lot, he could tell. If he wasn’t gay, he probably would have liked her back in the same way. She was pretty, but didn’t know it. She had medium-length hair that she dyed different colors all the time. She was also very short and slim. She dressed kind of punky, kind of slacker. It was a style that began to appeal to Ebon and he started imitating it in a more masculine fashion. It said: I don’t give a fuck what you think of me. He also liked that it required less thought and budget for clothes on his part. Ebon and Stacey were both good enough at their jobs to get away with dressing down at work.

Every Friday night, since they both worked the evening shift, they took their dinner break together. Stacey watched him eat. Ebon knew she watched him because he was her “eye candy.” She tended to pick at food and Ebon watched her pick, and he teased her for it. He also usually finished her dinner, too. Like Ebon, she smoked a lot, chewed gum and loved chocolate. She quickly became his best friend.

Walking back from dinner, Stacey said, “You’re getting a belly, handsome.”

“Nah,” he said. He drew out a pack of cigarettes and tossed one to her.

She lit hers and then his. “No, really.” She reached over and rubbed his belly. “See? Squishy.”

Ebon looked down. “Hmm, I guess so. Thanks ever so much for pointing it out.”

Stacey grinned. Her smile lit up the night. “I think it’s cute.”

“You would,” he frowned.

“You eat too much,” she said. She skipped forward and kicked a rock. Her short skirt flipped up and Ebon saw she was wearing pink panties. If only that did it for him!

“I eat because I’m hungry.” But that wasn’t true. He ate because he was empty and he knew it. He knew he was trying to fill up a bottomless hole.

“You still going out with Stephen later?”

Ebon puffed out a few smoke rings. The library appeared around the corner as they walked. “Yeah. Thank you for fixing me up with him. He’s very—“

“Hot?”

Ebon grinned. “You could say that. It’s weird. There was a time I wouldn’t have any trouble meeting guys. Now it’s just a lot of work.”

Stacey giggled.

“What?”

“Stephen said he heard about you.”

He frowned. “Heard what?”

“About the orgy, at your parent’s house, when you thought they were in Europe.”

He flushed pink and was glad it was getting dark out. “That story is totally blown out of proportion.”

“You used to be a real man-whore, huh?”

Ebon laughed. “You sure know how to make a guy feel good.”

“Yeah, well, when you’re a fag-hag it comes with the territory.”

Ebon smiled. “Finish your cigarette. You have to get back to work.”

“OK, boss. Thanks for dinner.”

She went into the library first. Ebon stayed outside, leaning against the chilly stone. He lit another cigarette and looked down at his body again.

It was true that his clothes had been feeling strange recently, like parts of his body he didn’t know he had were being held more snugly than usual. He had noticed it around his waistband, his thighs and his butt, but he’d not given it much thought. He realized that he had been in complete denial.

He was turning into a lard-ass.

He tried to decide what to do about it. He could start jogging every day, maybe cut back on what he ate. He tried to make a resolution about it then and there: to definitely decide to change his ways. The more he thought about it though, the more he realized that there were very few things that distracted him and made him feel OK anymore: smoking, eating and spending time with Stacey and Des. He wasn’t even sure if sex would help. It hadn’t with Dean Faraji and that had been the last person he’d fucked. He didn’t like feeling empty. He didn’t want to be fat, either.

A long ash fell off his cigarette and landed on his shoe. He kicked it off and headed into the library. He still didn’t know what to do by the end of his shift.

His nervousness made him smoke even more. He bought a king-sized bag of m & m’s and popped them into his mouth the whole car-ride home.

When he got home, he nearly called Stephen to cancel. Instead, he tore through his closet to find his most flattering outfit and posed in front of his mirror for nearly a half an hour until he was satisfied that he looked less fat. Then he got into his car again.

He put his hands on the wheel and gripped it tight, turned the key, and hoped for a good night.

* * *

Aloysius could not believe how beautiful El Paso was. He had never been to such a large city and was dazzled by the lights that shone everywhere in the night. They could see into Mexico, too. Kylie said it was the city of Juarez. They were going to pick up Pablo at the end of the weekend.

Kylie watched Aloysius take it all in. He smiled at his child-like enjoyment of the place. It wasn’t a big city by Kylie’s standards. He’d been to Paris and New York. He’d been to Austin with Mae at a convention for ranch farmers when Aloysius was very young. He knew El Paso was really just a hot, dusty, small town compared to those places. Yet it was fun to see his friend so happy.

All the same, Kylie was worried that there would be trouble. He couldn’t help it. Aloysius wanted to go to a nightclub and dance. There were a few that allowed people who were legally adults, but underage for drinking. Aloysius had a list that he’d printed off the computer. He clutched it like a talisman as Kylie wound through the streets looking for a Motel 6.

Once they settled in they stopped in the drab lobby to get a cup of coffee each. Then Kylie told Aloysius to pick a club off his list.

Aloysius closed his eyes and pointed at the list. The name closest to his index finger was “The Rio.” Kylie shrugged. “Okeedokee then, that’s the place. Just do me a favor. Listen to me, OK?”

“I always listen to you.”

“Yeah, right. Well, listen up carefully this time, though. You’re a good looking young man. If I was a fag, I’d say you were hot. But I’m not going to say that. What I’m trying to say, is that you need to be careful. You’re going to have people trying to take you home with them. Don’t go. I want to stay together.”

Aloysius nodded, but Kylie wasn’t sure he was listening. He was already in the club, mentally, imagining it like an Mtv video.

When they got to The Rio, it was already packed, as evidenced by the full parking lot. They had to park up the street a little and get out. The heat wasn’t as forceful as it had been on the drive down, but it was still very hot compared to the air conditioned car. There was a lot of wind and it picked up the stray wisps of Aloysius’s hair that hadn’t been tamed by braiding or hairspray. Kylie’s hair, twisted into many little dreadlocks didn’t move at all. But he sniffed at the air and smelled sage and cigarette smoke.

Kylie was right: Aloysius created a huge sensation in the club. He was naturally graceful and moved bonelessly through the many moving bodies. He was also physically different from the majority of the people in the club who were Hispanic or Mexican. He stood out like an albino snake, smoothly cruising and turning through the room.

In contrast, Kylie felt like he stole light, that it sank into his body so that he disappeared and melted into dark club atmosphere. This suited him just fine as he shadowed Aloysius.

Just as he predicted, people watched Ally. The women were especially obvious about looking at him, but Kylie also saw some men openly gaping at him, their eyes settling at around waist level.

An explosion of music momentarily distracted Kylie. The dancing started in earnest to a loud reggaeton song that had women shaking their asses and men trying to shake theirs so they could get closer to the women. Strobe lights blinded him. He saw a staircase that led to a small balcony that overlooked the dance floor. He bounded up the stairs two at a time and leaned over the railing. He scanned the room and didn’t see Aloysius at first. But then, he saw him leaning against the bar, a drink in his hand (Kylie hoped soda or water) and smiling at a small group of women.

They all made every small excuse to touch him, get closer to him. One was even unbraiding his hair, her long brown fingers combing and twisting. Kylie was alarmed, even though he had expected this. Aloysius seemed oblivious that anything was out of the ordinary. For all he knew clubs were always like this, with women fawning all over one special person. It was like a music video, Kylie realized.

The woman unbraiding his hair managed to slide her hands around his chest and was working her way under his shirt to touch his skin. Aloysius seemed to like this attention, but Kylie could see that his interest lay elsewhere.

He was surprised, even though he knew he shouldn’t have been. He’d known Aloysius for his whole life and Aloysius had always shown a preference for larger men and women over skinny ones. In movies, he swooned over John Candy, Jack Black, Queen Latifah and even muscle-y guys like The Rock.

He managed to remove himself from the group, much to their obvious disappointment and stalked towards the woman with the generous curves. Her skin was dark and her black hair curled tightly against her head. Kylie saw her smile at him and get him a drink. He watched as Aloysius for the first time became the one doing the touching, and she touched him back. They were long, lingering caresses that embarrassed Kylie and made him feel less like a protective pseudo-brother and more like a voyeur. Soon, the touching escalated to heavy petting in the dark corner of the club. He watched Aloysius kiss her and saw her push her round breasts against his chest. She was taller than him. She began to back further into the dark niche behind her and Aloysius followed.

Kylie realized he needed to intervene. He had to look away to find the stairs again, and then spotted them easily in the dark. More bright bursts of light kept ruining his night vision, however, but he remembered where he had seen the woman and Aloysius and hurried to the spot.

When he got there, they were gone.

Kylie searched the whole club. They weren’t there anymore. He ran out to the street where they had parked the car. The car was still there. Had he left with this woman? He asked people in the parking lot if anyone had seen them. He didn’t speak Spanish well and he was confronted with a lot of people who wouldn’t or couldn’t speak English. When he did finally find someone who both spoke English and had seen them, he confirmed that Aloysius had left the club with her.

Now he was in a panic. In his hurry back to the car, he forgot to pull on his driving gloves and touched the metal on the door, burning his left hand. He swore and pulled out his gloves from his pocket, put them on and got in.

He pulled out a map of El Paso, found his favorite crystal in the glove compartment and began scrying for Aloysius. He hoped it wouldn’t take long. The woman’s life might depend on it.

* * *

Ebon was meeting Stephen at a small bar in Ohio City. It was a place he used to go a lot, before everything happened to him, before he lost his soul. He used to hang out, swap gossip, and pick up guys. He was always able to take his pick of the hottest men there. Once, he’d even had a total of seven men (in a row) in the bathroom of the bar.

The bartender knew him, and gave him a wary nod. He asked Ebon what he was drinking, and Ebon asked for a light beer. He looked around and saw a few faces he knew. He hugged people who had been close acquaintances at one time, and shook hands with an old white drag queen named Miss Jenny Clair.

Stephen wasn’t there yet, so he sat down next to Miss Jenny and chatted a little with “her.”

“You look good, Ebon. Haven’t seen you around for the better part of a year now. What’s been happening?”

Ebon shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about it. He wasn’t proud of anything he’d done so far all year. “Nothing much. And you?”

She smiled and sipped her drink. “Nothing much either, hun. Definitely been less exciting without you in the scene, you know?”

Ebon chuckled. “Thanks for saying so. Hey, do you know Stephen Drum?”

“Hun, he’s a hot little number. Mixed race, you know, like you, only, half black, half white. Mm, he’s a little slice of heaven. You’re meeting him here?”

“Yeah. It’s a ‘date.’” He laughed. “Mixed race. I haven’t heard that in a while.”

“Think you’re turning Japanese?” She smiled at him and Ebon laughed again.

“Nope, still half and half.” They laughed together. It was an inside joke between them. Ebon was amazed at how easy it was to slip back into the scene, to sit at a bar and joke with someone he knew well. He wished he’d done it earlier.

Then Miss Jenny said, “You’re putting on some weight, Hun. Not that it doesn’t suit you, because it does, but it shows.”

And suddenly, Ebon was reminded how different he was from the person who used to come in this bar over a year ago. He pulled out his cigarettes, tapped the box and then took one out. He offered one to Jenny, but she turned him down. “Ladies don’t smoke,” she said.

Ebon shrugged, lit his cigarette and turned towards the door. People, mostly men, came in and out of the bar, but no sign of anyone meeting Stephen’s description. After about a half an hour though, he showed up.

He smiled when he saw Ebon and sat down next to him. “Hey there, I’m Stephen.”

Ebon was amazed at just how pretty this young man was. The pictures that Stacey had shown him did not do him justice. His skin was a shade or two darker than Ebon’s. His hair was the color of dried apricots and curled softly against his head. Ebon longed suddenly to touch it. He was so full of lust, looking into Stephen’s hazel eyes and full lips. “I’m Ebon, Ebon Honda.”

“Like the car company?”

“It’s a more common name than people realize. It’s a little like the name Smith. My dad was Japanese.”

“Was?”

“I don’t talk to my parents. That’s all.”

“Your first name is unusual, too.” Stephen leaned a little closer and put his hand on Ebon’s upper thigh. His thumb moved slowly, but it was a maddening feeling, this persistent touch.

“Another fun parent story: my mother named me on the spot. She didn’t want to have kids and when my twin sister was born first, she named her Desdemona. Then she saw me, dark eyes, dark hair, and named me Ebon. She wasn’t a great mom.” In a way, he was grateful to be talking about his mother. Her tight lips and frown-lines dampened his desire which was building to critical levels.

Normally, he wouldn’t have minded, he would have taken Stephen…anywhere and done anything with him. But he was self-conscious now, especially since he’d spent a lot of time trying to find flattering clothes and he still looked fat. He was afraid that Stephen would be turned off by him and his soft stomach.

But Stephen smiled at him, almost a leer. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Ebon. I am eager to see what all the gossip is about.” He winked, and his hand that was on Ebon’s thigh moved up, slowly, bit by bit, until he cupped Ebon’s erection which was back at full strength.

Ebon felt his face flush and become hot. He ducked his head and said, “Your place or mine?”

“Mine. I live around the block in the new apartments.”

Stephen stood and stretched, his shirt lifting just a little to reveal his hard, flat stomach, the same kind of stomach Ebon had once had. When Ebon stood, he smoothed down the front of his own shirt and tried to suck in his gut. It worked a little.

He said goodbye to Miss Jenny and went outside with Stephen.

The air was cool, even though it was spring. Ebon lit a cigarette as he followed Stephen. He was telling Ebon about how he’d helped design the new building that he now lived in. He was an architect who had just moved to Cleveland from Chicago. He’d known Stacey in high school and had been happy to see her at the library last week.

“She had a crush on me in school, you know,” he said. They were at the door to the building and he turned his key in the lock with a loud snick.

“She has a crush on me, too,” Ebon said.

Stephen laughed. “She was always so unlucky! All of her crushes have been on gay guys.”

When they got to Stephen’s door, the younger man put his hand on Ebon’s back and walked inside with him. He closed the door, and then pivoted in one motion so that he pinned Ebon against the wall. Since Ebon was much taller and heavier than Stephen, he was able to do this only because he’d caught Ebon by surprise. He leaned into Ebon, standing on his tip-toes and repeated, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“From Stacey?”

“No, from everyone. You are quite a legend in some circles around here. Quite a big slut, weren’t you?”

His soft lips were inches from Ebon’s face, but he managed to sound cool when he said, “You’re the one who has me pinned to the wall. That’s the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”

Stephen said, “I want to know if all the stories are true, if you’re as good as everyone says you are.”

Ebon felt the little ball of fear he carried inside him expand, making his toes tingle and his gut tighten. “I hope I am, too. A lot has happened to me this year, you know?” He tried to laugh, but it came out sounding weird.

Stephen didn’t seem to notice. He leaned up to kiss Ebon, while his hands moved from Ebon’s chest and over Ebon’s stomach. Having his belly touched made him nervous, but Stephen didn’t say anything.

In fact, the longer Stephen’s fingers roved over his body and under his clothes, the more confidence Ebon gained. He began to take charge, maneuvering Stephen so that he was the one with his back to the wall, kissing along his jaw, his neck. He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his long, mocha-colored torso. He stared at his body for a moment, keeping the man at arm’s length, feeling muscles tremble in both of their arms. The moment’s pause allowed Ebon a chance to breathe, to feel, to try to immerse himself completely in the moment. He reminded himself that he was here, touching this handsome young man, and that this man wanted him, too.

He lifted his own shirt over his head, exposing his now soft belly. Stephen still didn’t say anything. Encouraged, Ebon guided him towards a couch where he undressed Stephen completely. He admired the body underneath him: it would be a joy to fuck him senseless.

This time, he didn’t feel divided as he had with Dean Faraji. This time, he felt whole and could lose himself completely to the act of lovemaking. Stephen was alternately underneath and on top of him. Mainly, Ebon fucked Stephen. He did it long and slow. When Stephen was begging for mercy, he knew he still had it, that he was still himself.

* * *

Kylie drove like mad through El Paso. He wasn’t as familiar with the city as he’d have liked to be so he kept getting lost. The woman just had to live all the way on the other side of town, on the west side of the mountains! It took an hour to get there and had taken him a good twenty minutes or so to scry out Aloysius’s location before he even started driving. He was cursing in his native language, loudly. His tires screeched at every turn.

He parked on the street and locked the car. Then he hid the keys with his driving gloves under a giant century plant. He took a deep breath, feeling his lungs fill with the dry, thin El Paso air. He looked up and down the street. It was sparsely lit and he saw no one obviously watching him. So he took another breath and this time he drew on his magic and changed into a giant black mastiff dog. The dog trotted up the street, sniffing and searching. When he got the scent, he stopped and changed again into a crow.

He hated flying in the dark as a daytime bird, but he’d never gotten the knack of changing into a bat or owl. This form would have to do. He flew around the house that he believed Aloysius was in. He saw movement in an upstairs window and flew to the sill. Inside, he could feel strong magical energies, a kind of sexual feeding that he had hoped Aloysius wouldn’t inherit.

The woman was in trouble, and wouldn’t even know it. Kylie threw his body against the glass once, just to try to get their attention. He tapped the window with his beak and scratched with both feet. He wasn’t able to distract them. He hadn’t thought he would be able to anyway. He shook out his feathers and lifted into the air. He circled around and then dove for the window. At the last minute, he changed back into the dog and his sudden weight broke through the glass.

That got their attention! Glass flew everywhere, broken and tinkling like the roar of a split-second waterfall. Fortunately, Aloysius and the woman were on the other side of the room. Kylie shook glass out of his fur and bared his teeth at Aloysius. He smelled dark magic.

The woman screamed and clutched the plaid blanket to her naked chest. Aloysius on the other hand, turned slowly and hissed.

Kylie changed back to his human form, but stood taller than he usually did. It was a simple thing to grow taller, and to grow more muscular. He crouched into a fighting stance for a moment while he surveyed the room through human eyes.

The woman was still screaming. Aloysius seemed to unfold as he continued to turn towards Kylie. Then he sat back, spring-like, and jumped. Kylie was ready and turned Aloysius’s own momentum against him, throwing him against the wall. Kylie was stronger than a human, but Aloysius was, too. Fortunately, Aloysius was only a half-breed, and he didn’t know the full extent of his own strength.

Aloysius shook himself, sending sprays of plaster and chipped paint around the room. He launched himself at Kylie again, expecting to be thrown. Instead, he received Kylie’s knee in his stomach. His eyes rolled back as Kylie hit him, hard on the back of his head. He sank to the floor and didn’t move.

He turned to the woman who was still screaming and walked towards her. He spoke soft words of magic that quieted her and let her sink into a dreamless sleep. Kylie positioned her head and covered her up so that she would be comfortable. Then he turned back to Aloysius who was recovering and sitting up.

He groaned and held a hand up to his head. “What happened, Kylie?”

Kylie snapped his fingers twice in Aloysius’s face. “Take my hand. We have to get out of here. I screwed up badly Aloysius. Don’t worry. When we get home, I’ll make sure you understand everything.”

Aloysius looked around the room like he didn’t quite believe he was really there. He took Kylie’s hand to get up and then stumbled across the room to find his clothes. As he put them on, he asked, “What are you, Kylie?”

“What I am is not very important. I am your friend, that’s all you need to know.”

“No! It’s not all I need to know! What happened here?”

Kylie rubbed his eyes and then said. “You were taking the life-force of that woman.”

“I was just…” he stopped and wiped his forehead. It glittered with sweat. “I don’t remember actually. Not everything. What do you mean?”

“I want to tell you everything, but I made a promise to your mother a long time ago, a stupid, stupid promise. I can’t break it. I am of Faerie and we cannot break our promises.”

“You’re a what?”

“Come on; let’s go before she wakes up.”

“Will she be OK?”

“Yes. I got here in time.”

Aloysius looked paler than Kylie had ever seen him. “Was I going to hurt her--kill her?”

Kylie didn’t answer. Instead he said after a moment’s thought, “I’m a phouka. To answer your earlier question: what I am.”

This had the effect Kylie wanted. Aloysius blinked and with a light touch from Kylie on his back, started walking. “What is a phouka?” he asked. His curiosity rose over his fear. He didn’t want to believe he was a killer, Kylie thought. He’d rather know what his friend was than to face what he really was. That was very human, and oddly comforting.

“I’m Fae, but you would know me better as a fairy.” He hated calling himself that, but it was a term Aloysius would recognize. He unlocked the door and led him across the street.

“Are you kidding?”

“No,” Kylie groused. “And don’t ever call me a fairy, or tell anyone else you know what I am. It’s very bad luck.”

“Ok, but what are you doing here, I mean, in Texas? I know you used to live in Ireland. You left?”

“I was banished, temporarily. I may come back if I am ever deemed worthy.”

“Why?”

Kylie bent down to retrieve his gloves and keys. He never put his keys in his pockets. His black pants weren’t usually “pants” but rather magical constructs he created for his human form. It burned to put them in his “pocket” because he was really putting them inside his body. Kylie looked up and sighed. “It is a long story. Basically, I offended our Queen quite deeply.”

“And you were exiled.”

“Yes. Get in. We need to go.”

Kylie started the car and drove out of the area as quickly as possible. He picked up the highway, and then soon exited to take the Transmountain Road. The sun was beginning to rise and the sky was turning a sickly orange-pink. He glanced at Aloysius who was deep in thought and looked sick himself. He was letting him think too much on his own. There was no reason for it if he couldn’t tell him the whole story about half of his heritage.

So he just started talking. The words sort of just fell out of his mouth. “I traveled for many years, Aloysius. And when I say many years, I mean, centuries. I am fae, and I will live forever unless I am killed. As I wandered, I found no one I wanted to help or become a part of. Mortal lives are so short, I was afraid to join you only to lose the ones I might love.

“But then at the height of my despair, I met your mother. She was kind to me even though she was pregnant and afraid. She was alone and had nothing, yet she shared with me. I wanted to help her. I’ve never wanted to help anybody since I left my home, but I wanted to help her.

“When you were born, I helped take care of you. When your uncle and Pablo came to the ranch, I had more help. But you won’t remember that I changed your diapers and I fed you baby food. I love you, Aloysius. You are really like a brother to me. I have never had that before in all of my many, many years of being alive.

“Please don’t worry about what you are. You are a good person. You can think of what you have as a curse of sorts. It’s not who you are. It’s not what you would do if you were able to control yourself. You can’t.”

Aloysius was crying silently, tears rolling down his face. He sniffled and said, “I wish you could tell me everything now.”

“I do, too.” He reached over and took his friend’s hand and held it all the way back to the motel. He watched Aloysius brush his hair and his teeth and then sink into bed. He watched him sleep the whole day, never taking his yellow eyes off of him.

* * *

Des was sitting in the living room going over books on demonology. She had been searching for a way to get Ebon’s soul back, but the longer she searched, the more hopeless it seemed. She had borrowed this book from her professor just this afternoon. She had been itching to read it all day. But she’d just started the first page when the phone began to ring. When Des answered the phone, Ebon was on the other end and he was freaking out. “Des, you’ve got to come over, now! Please!”

She said she would and changed out of her work clothes and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She passed Cedric in the kitchen, but didn’t talk to him. They were working on their divorce and pretended each other didn’t exist when they were in the same room together.

She drove quickly, her tires skidding on wet dead leaves that littered the roads around Ebon’s home. When she got there, she saw him standing, agitated and smoking in the doorway.

She was shocked. It had been about 6 months since she’d actually seen him in person. They’d talked on the phone a lot, but Des had been very busy working on her Master’s degree and her divorce. It left little time for anything else. Des was shocked because he’d gained a lot of weight. The last time she saw him, he had just gone a little soft. Now he was definitely chubby, like a young Asian Santa Claus.

He had a panicked look on his face and waved at her, “Come in, Quick!”

“What’s going on?”

His face wasn’t sure if it wanted to show panic, delight or delirium. His eyes darted around the room and his fingers trembled. “I did magic!” he whispered loudly.

“Excuse me?”

“Look.” He walked over to the sofa and touched it. Where he touched it, the sofa changed to orange and the color spread along the fabric until it covered the entire sofa.

“How did you do that?”

“I don’t know. I noticed it just before I called you.” He lifted his shirt and stuck his thumbs into his waistband to pull it out a little from his round belly. “See how much room I have? I was trying to get into these pants—they were the largest pair I had, the only one I still fit into…at least I still fit on Friday. Today, they didn’t. I couldn’t even button them. I just wanted them to fit. As I wished and wished, it just happened: they fit. I freaked out and called you. Since then, I’ve tried other stuff.”

He led her across the room where there were a number of little silver-colored sculptures. They were of various animals and modeled rather crudely, but all the same she could make out a dolphin, a horse and swan.

“Des, I made these from silverware!” He picked up a spoon and the metal melted and bent under his touch. He molded it into a pathetic looking little cat, but all the same, it was amazing.

“Damn, Ebon! I wonder how long you’ve been able to do this. It’s probably an effect of what happened with the demon. You’re supposed to get something in exchange for your soul. Or it might be that coming in contact with such a powerful magical being altered you in some way.”

He flopped down onto the now-orange couch. “I dunno. I mean, the demon didn’t say anything to me. I didn’t feel anything weird until my soul was gone. I know he touched you and gave you the ability to use blood-magic.”

“I’ve never tried using it. It’s very dangerous. Can you change anything?”

“Seems like if it’s inanimate, yeah. I tried getting rid of this belly, but it didn’t work. I tried changing the color of leaves on my plants and that didn’t work either.”

“Interesting. So, are you OK?”

Ebon nodded. “Now I am. I was scared that I was going crazy. It feels a lot better to have you see it. I know I’m not just hallucinating, you know?”

“Yeah. Well, you’re not. It’s real. Damn. That’s a neat trick, you know.”

“It’d be a lot neater if it could melt the pounds away,” he groused.

“Yeah, you do look different.”

He sat up straight, and then leaned closer. “Do I look bad, Des? Please, I know you’ll be honest with me.”

She thought about it. Ebon had been one of the most handsome people she’d ever known. He still looked handsome, but it was a different kind of handsome. She’d never thought fat was ugly. “You just look different,” she said again. She leaned in and hugged him. “You’re much more cuddly, now.”

“Get off of me!” he said, but then laughed and relented, drawing his sister in closer, putting his arm around her.

He said, “I was just wondering because a guy I was seeing for awhile, he stopped calling me and when I finally called him yesterday, he said he didn’t want to see me anymore. He said I was letting myself go and that it was gross.” His voice sounded thicker to Des, like he was trying not to cry.

“I don’t think it’s gross, OK?” She moved his arm off of her to look him in the eyes. She put her hands on either side of his face and brushed his long hair back. “I think you’re still handsome.”

He smiled a wide, huge smile. She smiled back and then hugged him again. “Yep, definitely more huggable.”

Ebon pushed her away playfully. “Get out of here. I have to go to work. Thanks for coming by. I needed your help.”

“I wish I had been able to do more.”

“It’s OK. I’ll be fine. I can’t wait to show Stacey at work.”

* * *

Ebon was a little late for work. He slid behind the library’s circulation desk and hoped no one noticed he hadn’t been on time. Stacey came over to the desk. She winked and said, “I covered for you.” She leaned in and whispered, “I talked to Stephen.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m really sorry. I told him off if that makes you feel any better. Told him I thought were more than fuckable.”

A patron at the circulation desk gave Stacey a funny look. Ebon had to laugh. Stacey checked out his books for him and when she was done he said, “Here, this is more interesting than my pathetic love-life. Check this out,” he picked up a pencil and made it bend like rubber.

Stacey picked up the now-floppy pencil. “How did you do that?”

“Magic.”

“No, really. How?”

“Really. I can do magic.”

“Damn! Come on, we need a cigarette break.” She motioned to one of the student workers to come to the circulation desk to take over. She linked her arm with his and they walked together outside of the library. “Ok, now tell me how you did it, really.” She pushed him playfully and his back thumped against the gray stone of the building.

“I’m telling you. It’s magic.” He extended his hand like a Michelangelo painting and touched her shirt. Its color changed from red to blue.

Stacey’s eyes grew enormous and her mouth seemed to work, but nothing came out. Ebon began to feel self-conscious. Stacey took one big hand and looked it over and then picked up his other. “It’s not a trick, is it?”

“No.”

“Damn. I don’t know what to say. I don’t think you should go around showing other people though. They might not understand. Hell if I understand.”

Ebon smiled a little. He sighed and pushed his long black hair out of his eyes. “It’s OK. But let me share something else with you. Maybe this is why I can do this.”

Stacey folded her arms, and then unfolded them. She held out her hand. “Give me a cigarette, first, though. OK?”

Ebon pulled out his pack and took one for him before tossing her the rest. He lit his and then hers. He caught the pack in one hand as Stacey tossed it back. “OK, here goes. This is going to sound strange and like I’m just making it all up, but you’ve seen that I can do magic, so have an open mind. I think I can do this because I gave my soul away two years ago. I could probably do it the whole time, but I just found out today because I wanted to change something so badly, it happened.”

Stacey sputtered and then said, “What do you mean you gave your soul away?”

Ebon looked uncomfortable. “I’m only telling you about this because you’re my friend, my best friend.”

“You’re my friend, too. You know, Ebon, that I’m an atheist, right? I never believed in souls anyway.”

“Well, they’re real. I don’t know exactly what they are, but I know you can give them away and I know that when you lose them, you feel really, really lost. My sister, Des, summoned a demon.”

“Now you’re scaring me, Ebon.”

“I don’t have to go on.”

Stacey sucked on her cigarette and then blew the smoke out slowly. “No, I want you to. I always wanted to believe in the supernatural, but I just couldn’t because I couldn’t see it with my own eyes. But now I’ve seen you do magic, so there could be demons, couldn’t there?”

“Exactly. I didn’t believe either and neither did Des. We all thought it was a funny prank, like playing with an Ouija board. The demon wasn’t scary or anything, he just looked like a movie star wearing a suit. He was very good looking with a smooth voice. He offered to teach Des some magic and since Des has always been interested in magic, she took his offer. She had to let him out of the pentagram she drew and he touched her. She says that right after he touched her, she just sort of knew how the magic worked.”

“So Des can do magic?”

“She’s never used it, she says.”

“So what about your soul? Did you ask for anything?”

“No. But the demon wanted Des to pay the price for what he taught her. He was going to take her soul. She was terrified, Stace, I’ve never seen her look like that. She was so scared. I couldn’t take it. I told the demon he could have mine. I didn’t believe in souls, either. But there’s something the demon took. It hurt, badly. It still hurts. I feel really empty all the time.”

“You gave yours up in her place. Damn, Ebon, I have to say, all of this is really weird, but it’s also very brave.” She came to him and hugged him, putting her head on his belly. She looked up at him, “I so wish you weren’t gay. You’d be the best husband, ever.”

Ebon laughed. “Stacey, you’re the best.”

* * *

That night, Ebon’s nightmare returned. He hadn’t dreamt of the night he gave his soul away for some time now. But when he was back in the dream, it felt just as real as it did every other time. He was there again, in Des’s house and when he looked at himself, he was thin. His body felt different. It was strange to feel it move in this way. It was strange that he didn’t feel lighter: only different.

After he realized that, he found himself in Des’s kitchen. In his head, he tried to force his way out of the dream. He tried so hard, but he was stuck. He could think what he wanted to think, but his feelings and his actions were dictated by the dream. Des came to get him from the kitchen. She took his hand and made him stand behind her, near her husband. She wanted him to watch this ritual she was going to perform. She told him it had anthropological merit, and it would probably be fun, like playing “Stiff as a Board.”

So in the dream, he found himself standing around a chalk pentagram and listening to Des chant. She was reading from a book and used her finger to mark her place. Her husband was behind her, but kept making eyes at Ebon. Ebon made eyes back: Cedric was blonde and gorgeous beyond all belief. He wouldn’t have ever said ‘no’ to him.

Ebon hadn’t ever believed that the chanting would do anything. He thought it was all really funny. He had just been over Des’s house to study—he preferred working there since he wasn’t getting along with their parents anymore. He shouldn’t have even been there, he thought. But his dream self still felt the humor of the situation.

He couldn’t believe it when the demon appeared. As he watched the demon materialize again in his dream, he noticed its ice-blue eyes slide around the room and settle on Cedric. Then the eyes slid back and the demon spoke to Des.

While they were talking, Ebon felt the exact same feelings of intense lust he had felt at the demon’s appearance. At first he thought it was because he was standing closer to Cedric than he ever had before: their fingers were practically brushing against one another. But the feelings grew and became almost unbearable. He could hardly see, his entire body shook and he was one long nerve. If anyone had touched him, he would have come right there in his pants. He could hardly pay attention to what was going on around him.

Until he heard Des cry out in fear.

Everything was the same. He watched her crying and shaking in fear. It was unbearable. He couldn’t stand to watch her cry. She was a tall, proud woman and she was now cowering on the floor, crawling backwards away from the demon who was moving towards her, slowly, like a monster from a movie. He watched for a moment and then his dream self cried out, “No! Leave her alone! Whatever you want from her, take it from me.”

The demon stopped and cocked his head to the side. He was considering Ebon’s words. As frightened as Ebon had been, he remembered thinking, “He’s very handsome and cute when he does that.”

The demon nodded. “You would take her place?” His voice was so smooth, so lovely!

“Yes.”

“You know what you give up?” Ebon didn’t actually, but he thought it must be really, really terrible whatever it was.

“Yes?”

“You will give up your soul in her place?”

Oh that! He didn’t believe in souls anyway. “Yes,” he said.

“Then mote it be,” the demon said, and stepped towards him. The lust boiled around Ebon and he felt the demon’s hands reach out to touch him. That’s where the pleasure ended and the pain began. The ripping, the tearing, the taking of the piece he didn’t even know he had. It was unbearable. Twice he felt that he was going to pass out from the pain, twice he opened his eyes and caught the ice-blue of the demon’s eyes, staring at him. The pain cut through any thoughts, drove all feeling in his body. He was torn to bits.

He woke up screaming. He was used to the dream. The pain was gone when he woke up. Its memory faded in the way that memories of pain do. He knew he had experienced it, but he couldn’t explain exactly how it felt. So his greatest shock of the night was when he hugged himself after his dream. His dream body was the same as two years ago. This new body felt different. His round belly jutted out as a reminder that no matter how much he tried to fool himself and believe he was the same, he wasn’t. He rubbed his fat belly, stared at it, pinched it until it hurt. Then he lay back down and curled his body around it, drawing his knees up to his convex stomach and clutching himself tightly. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. All of his feelings were too mixed up.

* * *

Aloysius had learned a lot about himself after his trip to El Paso. He learned a lot about his family that he’d never known before either. Each one of them seemed to have a secret. Aloysius considered Kylie and Pablo his family, too.

Pablo’s secret was the least shocking. Pablo was gay and his lover lived in Juarez. He didn’t go home to visit family like he pretended to because they’d disowned him and had gotten the Church to excommunicate him as well, that’s why he was Lutheran now. He went home instead to visit his lover. He sent all of his savings to a joint account. He dreamed of the day when they could afford the house they wanted in Cancun and could retire together.

Aloysius could relate to Pablo’s secret. He didn’t talk about his own bisexuality with anyone except for Kylie. But now he could tell Pablo, too. It was a relief to have another person to talk to that was different like him.

Kylie’s secret he had already learned, but back at the ranch, Kylie showed him all of the transformations he was able to perform. He also started teaching him more magic and he gave him a new charm as a gift. Aloysius added the charm to his necklace. He had seven charms in all now. Kylie told him it was important that he wear them all the time. Kylie’s knowledge was impressive and by the end of a year, Aloysius understood enough about charms and hexes to create his own designs.

But his knowledge was never enough. Especially when he found out his mother and uncle’s secret. Actually, his uncle’s secret wasn’t too bad. It turned out that his uncle was an ordained monk and had temporarily left his order to help his sister out when she had her baby. He stayed on because he felt that his vocation was at the ranch now. He loved the big sky and the hard work. He felt that farm work was uplifting and a way of being in tune with the earth that God had created. Aloysius was surprised to find this out, but he had always felt that his Uncle Russ was a spiritual man.

His mother’s secrets were shocking and one was devastating. His mother had been a nun. She was a cloistered nun and had little contact with the world. Kylie had persuaded her to tell him the truth. With obvious reluctance, she sat down with her son and told him the whole story as she knew it.

“Son, I never meant to keep this from you. I just hoped I never had to tell you. I thought it would be too hard for you to bear.”

“It’s alright, Mom,” he’d said. He hugged her. She was so small! Her cloud of gray hair tickled his chin. They pulled away and she drew herself up to tell her story.

“I was a young nun. I used to spend my days tending the garden and praying at St. Maria’s. I prayed all the time and for many different things. As I got older, I began to wonder if I’d chosen my vocation too soon. I wondered if I had really been called to be a nun or if I became a nun because I was afraid of the world. I realized that I wanted a child, but I knew I would never have one. In my heart of hearts, I couldn’t even ask God about this. I was too ashamed. I felt that I was weak.

“But my desire to have a child remained. When I did talk to God about it, I prayed that my desire be set aside so that I could continue to do His work, to pray for a better world.

“I confessed my sins every week and I told my confessor of my desires. He thought that I wanted to know about sex, but that wasn’t what I wanted. He gave me many unwanted books and films about sex. I threw them all away.” She raised her head and her chin jutted out defiantly. “I found another confessor. My second confessor understood me better. He helped me pray to have greater strength in the face of my weakness. He understood that being a woman, I couldn’t help all of my desires.

“But the first priest remembered. I know he remembered, because I think he is the one who raped me.”

Aloysius was crying hearing this. “Did you hate me?”

“No! No, I was afraid sometimes that you would be like your father, but you’re not. You’re a kind person. You look like so much like me. I am not sorry I have you. In a way, the tragedy may have been God’s will: helping me have the child I couldn’t otherwise. It was a good thing in the end. But I never wanted to tell you so you wouldn’t feel like there was something wrong with you or that I didn’t want you. I did and I do.”

He didn’t want to hear more. It was hard for her to tell him these things, he could tell. He held her close and when he opened his eyes and looked up, he saw Kylie standing in the doorway. His arms were crossed and he looked taller, bigger, scarier. He said, “No, Mae, it wasn’t the priest. I told you, an incubus raped you. The priest may have summoned the demon, but it was a demon that took your virginity.”

Aloysius hugged his mother who was sobbing. Kylie came into the room, a tall dark presence. “He needs to know what he is. Let me talk to him alone.”

Mae nodded. “You’re right. You understand these things better than I do, phouka. Go with Kylie, son. He will tell you everything else that I can’t.”

Kylie took him from Mae’s room and led him out of the house. They walked along the fence, and Aloysius felt better with the sun on his face, heating his hair, making him sweat. When he rubbed his face, it looked less like he was wiping tears away.

“I don’t understand, Kylie.”

“It’s simple. You’re half-demon. It’s what I wanted to tell you for your whole life. Your mother always wanted to protect you. But I think knowing the truth is better.”

“You made her cry!” He wanted to slap Kylie, but he didn’t. He wrapped his arms around his body and felt his ribs under his hands. “You shouldn’t have made her cry,” he said quietly.

“I love your mother. She was kind to me when no one else ever was. I knew she wasn’t carrying a normal child. I knew there was something special about you, Aloysius. I told her and she knew too. She’s tried to deny it over the years, but she knew. At first, she thought maybe you were autistic since you didn’t speak until you were seven. But I knew that you were a cambion.”

“What is a cambion?”

“A half-demon. All cambions are different. It doesn’t mean you’re evil. I can see that you are worried about that. It doesn’t mean that at all. You have magic and you have a great power over people. Anyone who is sexually attracted to you will be affected by you. Even those who aren’t sexually attracted to you will want to touch you and be near you. People and creatures like me are somewhat immune, but even I want to touch you more than any other man I have been around. I’m not gay, you know.”

“I know,” Aloysius looked into the fields. Pecan trees rustled their leaves. “How do you know I’m not evil?”

“Because you’re a good person. Evil is what evil does and so forth. But there is something else you need to know. Aloysius, this isn’t easy, but it’s the truth. You only have half a soul. Your father was a demon and they don’t have souls.”

Aloysius felt his heart sink. He muttered a prayer and then said, “How can I go to Heaven then?”

Kylie laughed, throwing his head back. “I’m sorry your mom ever got you into all that Catholic and Christian nonsense. That’s all it is, I think. Don’t worry about it.”

“How can you say that?”

Kylie started to walk again, expecting Aloysius to follow. Aloysius caught up in two long strides and turned him around. “How can you say don’t worry about it? I don’t want to spend my eternity in Hell!”

Kylie removed Aloysius’s hands. “I can say that, my friend, because I have no soul. I don’t believe Heaven is real and so I don’t worry about it.”

“How can you say it’s not real? You say there are demons but no Heaven?”

Kylie shrugged. “Just because there’s evil doesn’t mean there’s good, too. Demons have been around as long as the Fae. We travel in different circles and have different goals. But for every demon I have seen, I have never seen an angel. I have never heard the voice of God and I have never believed in the book that you take as scripture. You needed to know the truth. Whatever will happen, will happen, but at least you know what you are and can deal with it.”

Kylie smiled kindly and reached up to brush stray hairs out of Aloysius’s eyes. Aloysius didn’t know what to think. He felt as if the edges of the world were encroaching in his vision, like the horizons of the world were shrinking and squeezing closer to him: like this knowledge would crush him. He leaned forward and hugged Kylie tightly and was glad to feel his friend clutch him tightly back.

This would have been enough for Aloysius: to know everyone’s big secrets. They had all come out and it was big, and a lot of room for thought. But it wasn’t the biggest secret.

Aloysius’s mother finally told him the next day that she had cancer.

* * *

Mae’s deterioration was terribly fast. Six months after she told him she had cancer, she died. Aloysius had been asleep upstairs, having changed places with his uncle. All of them had taken turns sitting with his mother after she came home to die. The hospice nurse was there and she’d been the one who had run upstairs, calling “Miho! Miho!” and then shaking him out of his dreamless sleep.

He couldn’t believe it. But it was true. Staring at her lifeless body was terrible, hopeless. He turned away and sat down in the kitchen. He remembered all kinds of stupid little things that had happened during her illness. He remembered emptying her bedpan and the terrible smell of urine. He remembered watching cooking shows with her when she was weak from the chemotherapy. He remembered the salty, wrong taste of her skin whenever he kissed her forehead. He remembered that for as much faith as she had, she had been afraid as she was dying. She clutched her rosary tightly and was afraid.

He went through the motions of the wake and the funeral. Mae had been well loved in Pecas. Her wake had a line of people going out the door, wanting to see her empty body that had too much makeup and her mouth set into a tight, thin line.

There was so much he wished he had said and done before she died. He wished he knew for sure that she was still somewhere, watching over him. He had never imagined this day would ever happen.

Kylie slipped his arm around him and let Aloysius lean on him at the funeral. When her body was lowered into the wet ditch of the gravesite, Aloysius couldn’t take it anymore. He turned and ran.

When Kylie caught up with him, Aloysius was heaving, panting. He felt nauseous and wished he could throw up and turn himself inside-out. When he got his breath back, he said, “I’m leaving Pecas. I’m going to find my father.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Thanks, Kylie, but you should stay and help Uncle Russ and Pablo.”

“Maybe. But they can hire some more hands. I’m coming with you. You need someone who knows a little about the unseen world. I’ll help you. Your mother would have wanted that.”

Aloysius nodded. He wiped his forehead, feeling cold and clammy. “Thank you, brother.”

* * *

Ebon was sitting at his cubicle in the staff area playing spider solitaire on his computer. He was winning and had won eight times in a row, a new record for him. He grinned at the screen with its pathetic little fireworks display that showed after he won. He didn’t hear Stacey behind him until she put her hand on his shoulder. He just about jumped out of his chair.

“Hey!”

“Hey yourself,” she said.

“I thought you were Kasey!” Kasey was technically his boss.

“Well I’m not and your break ended a half an hour ago. I just wanted to tell you that there are these two guys asking around for you.”

Ebon’s eyebrow shot up and he tried to lean in his chair. “Really? Are they hot?”

“Yeah, actually, especially the white dude. And he’s really, really white. He even has white hair and pale blue eyes. The other guy, he’s really, really black, even wears black clothes. But he has yellow eyes, never seen that before. They’re hot, but they’re kind of strange, you know? I think the one is Texan and the other is Jamaican I think. He has a funny accent.”

“Really? I don’t know anyone like that. And you’re sure they’re looking for me.”

“Yes. They asked for you by name.”

“Weird.” He leaned back in the chair and folded his hands over his stomach. He thought about it. It had been three years since he’d been in the scene. Were they looking for him because of his old, old reputation? He hoped not, he wasn’t the same person. All the same, he thought, it wouldn’t hurt to check out a few cute guys, even if they might be disappointed in him. “And you say they’re hot, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what they want.”

“Let’s go find out, shall we?” He stood up, not quickly, but carefully. He smoothed his shirt over his big belly and put his hand on Stacey’s back.

“OK, I was hoping you’d say that.” She grinned. “They’re really hot.”

“I think we covered that.” He smiled. Stacey loved his smile: it was radiant.

They looked around the library together for awhile, but didn’t see them. Finally they decided to take a smoke break together. They went to the coat-room and picked up their coats. It was snowing a little outside. Once they got to their “spot,” they saw it was occupied.

“It’s them!”

As Ebon and Stacey approached, Ebon saw the shorter guy, the black one, elbow the taller, white man. “Pay up. I told you they’d come out here.”

The white guy tossed a coin at him and then looked up.

Ebon was hit with a wave of lust. It nearly doubled him over and it scared him as much as it aroused him. It felt like the kind of lust the demon had inspired in him so many years ago.

Stacey put her hand on Ebon’s back. “Are you OK?”

His face was bloodless and he moved his mouth wordlessly at her. Finally, he whispered, “I can’t go over there.”

“Do you know them?”

“No, I mean, I’ve never seen them before. But I can’t go over there. Please, tell everyone I’m sick. I have to go.”

“Ebon!” She tried to stop him, putting her hands on his chest. Ebon just lifted them off and twisted away easily. He was very dexterous even though he was such a large man.

“No, I have to go,” he whispered. His eyes were open so wide she could see the entire iris of his eyes. She nodded.

“Library’s almost closed. I’ll cover for you,” she murmured.

He turned away and trotted for his car. When he heard the two men call his name, he sprinted. He was panting by the time he reached his primer-gray Bonneville. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath, watching it come out of his mouth in fat gray puffs.

He heard their feet crunching in the snow behind him. He dug out his keys, still winded, and started the car. He skidded a few feet, he took off so fast, but then he regained control and sped all the way to his house.

Inside, he locked the door behind him and locked all of the windows and turned off all the lights. He huddled on the floor of the living room, still in his winter coat. He was sure it was the demon that had made him feel that way. It was the same kind of lust—the same unnatural kind of lust he’d felt that day. He didn’t know why the demon was coming for him, but it was. He shook and moaned, holding himself close, feeling scared, aroused and very confused.

It seemed like an eternity that he was lying on the floor, but when he heard his doorbell ring, he looked up and saw that it had only been an hour. After he didn’t answer the door, the person ringing the bell came around to the front window and pounded on it. “Let me in, Ebon!” It was Stacey.

He got up to let her in. She stood in the dark doorway for a moment staring at him. Snow fell onto her pig-tailed hair and her shoulders. She shook her head. “Poor thing. You didn’t even take off your jacket. And why are all the lights off?” She stepped in and pulled the door closed behind her. Ebon locked it, snick snick. Stacey turned him around and began to unbutton his coat. Ebon let her, not helping, but not hindering her, either. After she slid his coat off, she walked into the living room and turned on the lights and the television. A sit-com was on. She changed the station to VH-1.

Since Ebon hadn’t moved, she went back to get him and led him into his own living room. She pushed him onto one of his couches and then tossed him a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Ebon lit one, and he started feeling a little better. He could hear Stacey in his kitchen. She was making microwave popcorn. He was glad and found himself smiling as the buttery smell came into the living room.

“Food and cigarettes make everything better,” she said, looking at him. She placed the bowl of popcorn in his lap and sat down, putting her feet up on his coffee table. She was wearing pink shoes.

Ebon took a handful of popcorn. “That’s subjective. I wouldn’t be feeling quite as good if you gave me pickled herring.”

“Touché. So, now I’m going to ask if you are okay.”

“I am now,” he smiled at her sincerely.

Stacey smiled back and then snuggled up against him. She lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. “What happened back there?”

“Getting a little familiar?”

“Always. Now spill it.”

Ebon took a deep breath. “Remember when I told you about my soul? I think that was the demon coming back for me.”

Stacey shook her head. “I think you’re wrong. I talked to them after you left. They’re both looking for the same demon as the one you saw. The white dude, he says the demon is his father.”

Ebon looked at her. “Are you kidding?”

“No. I talked to them for awhile. The white guy is named Aloysius Quinn. He’s from Texas. He’s a cambion, which means he’s half human and half demon. He says the demon raped his mother and he wants revenge. The other guy is a fairy of some sort from Ireland. He’s Aloysius’s friend. His name is Kylie.”

“Really? Wow.”

“And there’s more. Kylie told me that you would not have felt the way that you did if Aloysius wasn’t so hot for you.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, I was confused too. It turns out that the demon they are looking for is an incubus, so that makes Aloysius half-incubus.”

“And that’s why he inspires lust. So why didn’t you feel anything?”

Stacey smiled at him, batting her eyelashes. “I only have eyes for you, Ebon.” Ebon snorted and pushed her. “But really, I do! I did feel lust, but Ebon, you know how I feel about you.”

Ebon blinked. “I know, and I’m sorry I can’t feel the same way. But Stacey, it doesn’t make sense: I can see you wanting me when we first met three years ago, before I got fat, but now, I just don’t get it.”

Stacey smiled. “I think you’re still hot. But so does Aloysius. Kylie said the lust is way more intense if Aloysius desires you back. And Aloysius was talking about you a lot.”

“Really? Wait a minute. What am I saying? These two are seriously weird.”

“And you’re not? You can do magic, Ebon. That’s seriously weird in my book.”

“What if they were lying to you? What if he is the demon?”

Stacey laughed. “Do you really think that if one of them was the demon, they would be asking around for you? I think the demon would recognize you just fine.” She snuggled up closer and Ebon was glad for the human contact.

He hugged her more tightly around her shoulders, giving her a brief squeeze. “I guess. But I don’t know if I can deal with how he makes me feel. I don’t think I can be near him again.”

“What’s wrong with lust?”

Ebon lifted an eyebrow and said loftily, “It’s one of the Deadly Sins.”

“Oh pish-posh! That’s stupid. Lust is normal.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t normal lust. It just reminds me so much of the demon I gave my soul to. It bothers me so much. The lust I felt, it was followed up with the worst pain I’ve ever had in my life.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way, Ebon! You can’t keep running away from everything. And Aloysius wants to see you again. He was really upset that he didn’t get to talk to you. He seems very nice, actually.”

“You think he seems nice?”

“Yes, they both did.”

“Do you have their number?”

“Yes,” she said, and grinned. “Am I not your best friend?”

“That you are. Well, I’ll see. This is weird, but I’ll see.”

“And they still want to talk to you about the demon and your soul anyway.”

“Nothing like light conversation, right?”

“Exactly,” she said. She took some more popcorn they watched TV for awhile. VH-1 was fun for making fun of things. They watched old 80’s videos and it was a great, cheesy flashback. It was just what he needed: his best friend next to him, a half-full pack of cigarettes, some popcorn and fluff on the television.

Stacey fell asleep lying against him. Ebon didn’t have the heart to move her. He just watched her sleep for awhile, her pretty face relaxed, her hair askew from being pressed against Ebon’s shoulders. He had often wished since he’d met her that he could love her completely. He did love her, but not the way she wanted.

After his chin had hit his chest a few times, startling him awake, he realized he had to go to bed. He moved slowly, gently, and stood up, taking care not to wake Stacey. He peeled her off of him and lowered Stacey all the way onto the couch. He found a pillow for her head and an afghan to cover her up. When she was tucked in, he turned out the lights, but not the TV. She liked having it on while she slept.

Then he went upstairs to his room. He thought about the two men: Aloysius and Kylie. Did Aloysius really desire him? This would be a first. Ever since Stephen had broken up with him, he’d been very shy about dating and fooling around. The people he dated liked him for his personality or for stupid things, like his eyes. He was always told he had beautiful eyes, but no one ever said anything else complimentary. No one liked how tall he was or how big he was. When he found someone who wanted a fuck and that was all, they chose him because they were desperate. It was obvious to Ebon. He’d fucked more men with his shirt on since he’d gotten fat than he could count. It was embarrassing. What if this strange man from Texas really liked his body as it was? It would be such a relief to fuck someone without his shirt on, to hear again from another man that he was handsome and beautiful.

He was afraid, but he was even more afraid of being unhappy.

And Aloysius was all kinds of hot. They knew how to grow them down there in Texas, he thought. He smiled and shut off his bedroom lights. He’d get that number tomorrow morning.

* * *

Aloysius couldn’t sleep, and because he couldn’t sleep, neither could Kylie. Aloysius paced their tiny Motel 6 bedroom over and over, back and forth, snaking around the furniture, never ceasing in his movement. It was making Kylie crazy. If it wasn’t so cold outside, he would have turned into a dog or crow and slept out. But he hated being cold and it was still snowing.

“Stop it!” He finally shouted.

Aloysius looked up like he’d been slapped. He froze completely, only moving to put his raised foot back on the floor. “What?”

Kylie pulled the covers over his head. “I can’t sleep when you do that,” he said from under the covers.

“When I pace?”

“Yes, you know that. Why can’t you sleep anyway?”

“Because I want him.”

“You’ve wanted plenty of other people before,” said the lump of covers that indicated Kylie was still in the bed.

“Not like this. Never like this. This is… just too intense. I can’t take it. I have to go to him, now.” He began looking for his coat. “I’ve never felt so…”

“Horny? Don’t go anywhere.” Kylie threw the covers off of him and fixed Aloysius with his yellow eyes. “Are you wearing your charms?”

“Yes. I always wear my charms. And the tattoos never come off.”

“Maybe you need more, something to block more magic from seeping out, keep your demon half in check. The incubus in you wants to take from others. It needs others. Anyway, Ally, you know it’s just a magical feeling. It’s not real.”

“You told me before that it’s a magical amplification of what I feel. What I feel is real. The amplification of my feelings may be magical, but then, isn’t magic real, too?”

Kylie folded his arms. “It’s 3 am! It’s too early in the morning to talk philosophy. Stacey said she’d give him our cell number. That’s enough for now. He’s freaked out. The magic scared him. Give him time.”

Aloysius sat down on the edge of his bed and faced Kylie. His hair was a mess, half-braided and tangled up. “I’m sorry. I just felt something so much more intensely than I was used to. I felt something that seemed so real; I can’t get it out of my head.”

“It’s a physical thing for you, you want his body. Heh, you’re such a chubby chaser. I hope he’s a nice guy, too. That cute girl said he was, but you never know.” He smiled up at Aloysius, then reached out and touched him, gently, then took his hand. “It’s alright. Come here. Lay next to me and sleep.”

Aloysius smiled. They hadn’t slept next to each other since he was a child. He climbed into bed next to his friend, his brother, and felt more peaceful. He realized, now that he knew more about magic, that it wasn’t just the comfort of a familiar person next to him that made him feel better. It was a sort of magic Kylie had: a projected feeling that he was “at home.”

It didn’t matter to Aloysius if magic was real or not. It felt real, so it must be real. He burrowed under the covers and spooned his body against Kylie’s. Kylie was warm, almost hot to the touch. Although Kylie grumbled and murmured things about not being a fag, he let Aloysius stay close, his face against his back and shoulders.

“I love you, Kylie,” he said. “You take care of me.”

“Someone needs to,” he growled. “And roll over, let me spoon you. I can’t sleep with that thing poking me in the back.”

Aloysius laughed, but turned over. He felt so safe in Kylie’s arms. It didn’t stop the arousal he felt about Ebon, but it did help him relax and be able to fall asleep.

* * *

Aloysius was riding in the car with Kylie on his way to Ebon’s home. It was noon, and after they called him that morning, Ebon invited them over for lunch. He said he was a good cook.

Aloysius didn’t care what there was to eat. He was too nervous to eat. Even though he had learned to control his demon half somewhat on their journey, he was worried. In the year and a half since his mother had died and he and Kylie had been tracking appearances of demons throughout the US, he had never lost so much control. So much of the demon had slipped out last night.

Learning how to control himself had been mainly a process of trial and error. Kylie said there was no manual on how to help a cambion. They were all different based on the kind of demon that had sired them. Aloysius’s problem was how to not only keep his amorous intentions in check, but also how to keep from actually killing or harming a person during physical, sexual contact.

He eventually learned how to control lust through the use of charms. The most powerful of these he had tattooed onto his arms and chest. He had a few running down his legs now, too. They kept him in check and gave him greater control over himself. The charms on his necklace and two bracelets actually blocked some of his power. With most people that he found attractive these days, he felt he reacted like a normal person. He’d see them, take pleasure in their looks, their mannerisms and be able to enjoy it without feeling like he needed to run over and tear off their clothes.

During the act of sex, he learned how to use his talents in a more positive way. Before, he would take the life-force of his partner. This was an embarrassing time for him, with Kylie watching his every move as a small black insect or gecko on the wall. He would never have consented to have Kylie with him if it wasn’t such an important thing to learn to control. In a way, it was a relief knowing that Kylie would stop him if he went too far. In this way, he began to learn how to take, and then give back. He learned to take not the life-force of a person, but their feelings and emotions. Then, he could give them back, along with his own. It created a mental loop, a bio-feedback that increased the pleasure of the experience. The longer the loop remained connected, the more powerful the feelings were. In the end, he knew that it was a good thing, and finally, Kylie would leave him alone with his lovers.

But it was lonely, too. He always knew that they would soon be moving on. He learned to love these people he had encounters with and carried some of them within himself all the time. He missed them.

But Ebon eclipsed all of those feelings for him. He had only just seen Ebon and heard his voice on the phone, but he desired him above all others. He was Aloysius’s perfect ideal. He was very tall, very round, yet moved with grace and deliberation. His hair was long and black. He loved his long hair and wanted to touch it. He loved his thin, slanted eyes with their dark, dark irises. He loved his wide mouth. He was sorry to have seen his mouth twisted in fear. In his mind, he daydreamed that he reached out to Ebon to comfort him, to take his fear away. That was something else he could do, even though he had not done it since the first time. It seemed wrong to take something he wasn’t able to give back. He wouldn’t give back fear. He would only give back pleasure.

He was in a state of nervous agitation, staring out the window at the snow-covered trees and the gray slush of the road. He had never seen so much snow before in real life. His breath settled on the window from time to time and he had to wipe it off to see outside.

Kylie was humming off-key next to him. He seemed nervous too. Both of them were sure that they’d finally found the right person. They had been looking for whoever summoned the demon they suspected was Aloysius’s father: the demon Kasdaye. They had found a surprising number of people who had sold their souls. Many of them seemed depressed even though they had so much. All of them, when Aloysius looked sideways at them to see their auras had a missing piece: a dark stripe that stood out because there was nothing there. Ebon had had that, too.

It made Aloysius feel a little conflicted. He didn’t like the people who had sold their souls. They were often pathetic or cruel. But when they talked to Stacey about him, Ebon seemed like neither. Stacey said that Ebon hadn’t sold his soul for anything. He’d given it away. That was first time either Aloysius or Kylie had heard of such a thing. He wondered about it almost as much as he was fantasizing about being enveloped by Ebon’s arms, being kissed by those soft lips, smelling the tobacco on his clothes. He wanted all of that.

“We’re here,” Kylie announced. Aloysius looked out of the windshield to see a small house surrounded by pine trees. A mailbox with a foot of snow piled up on top was out front, but the walk was shoveled. As Kylie put away his keys and driving gloves carefully, Aloysius looked up. The front door was black and it was cracked just a little so that Aloysius could see that Ebon was just behind the door. He could see the olive color of his hands against it and a sliver of his face, one dark eye peering out.

He couldn’t help himself: he felt the same intense attraction as last night. He ran up the porch stairs and stuck his foot inside the door. He pushed the door open further, receiving no resistance and then he was inches away from Ebon’s face.

They stared at each other for a long time. Kylie came by and walked around them, then settled on the arm of one of Ebon’s couches. But Ebon and Aloysius didn’t move. He felt lust, longing, hope, all kinds of feelings washing over him and he projected it back. They weren’t even touching, and the feelings were so intense.

Ebon couldn’t take it anymore; he put his hands on Aloysius’s face and leaned in for a kiss. It wasn’t tentative at all! It was a deep, wet, sloppy kiss that had Aloysius’s legs buckle and a moan escape his throat. He felt Ebon’s hands on him and realized his own hands were sliding down Ebon’s chest, along his round stomach, down to his waist. He was about to slip his hands inside the loose jeans, when he heard Kylie.

“Enough! If I wanted to watch a gay fuck-fest, I’d turn on Queer Eye or something. Fuck!” He pushed his way between them and produced a black Sharpie marker. He drew symbols on both their hands. Aloysius felt his desire becoming more normal. He took in a deep breath and looked up at the two of them.

“I’m sorry.”

“I should be the one apologizing. I kissed you first,” Ebon said. His face was flushed, and he ducked his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’re both sorry,” Kylie groused. “What’s for lunch?”

Ebon straightened up and looked at his hand. “What did you do?”

“I charmed you. Come on, I’m starving. I hope you have coffee, too.”

Ebon nodded. “The kitchen is through the door over there. Everything’s ready. I made grilled-cheese and salad.”

Aloysius couldn’t take his eyes off of Ebon. He watched his lips move as he talked and watched the way he moved, and the way he gestured with his large hands. His hands were almost twice the size of Aloysius’s. He wanted to touch him again and hoped that Ebon would let him. He could sense the fear that was inside of him too. It was underneath the passion and desire, but it was there and was very strong. He was very afraid of Aloysius, but not more than he desired him.

Somehow, he got to the kitchen table and sat down. He looked around. Ebon’s kitchen was small, but comfortable. There was a large window next to the kitchen table. It was actually three windows inside of a nook. The table fit inside the nook. There was a lot of cold, white winter light coming in from the outside. The smell of hot butter and cheese was good: his mouth watered.

Ebon served food for all three of them. He also poured coffee, giving Kylie lots of cream and sugar, whereas he and Aloysius took it black. The food was very good, but Aloysius couldn’t eat very much of it. He couldn’t follow much of what Kylie was saying to Ebon, either. It was very hard to concentrate. He watched Ebon eat, taking small bites, but eating quickly. He finished his food in half the time of Kylie. Aloysius didn’t finish his at all. He was vaguely aware of Kylie asking about the demon and what had happened. He just couldn’t pay attention.

His eyes wandered over Ebon’s body. It was hid somewhat by his thick cable-knit sweater. It was an off-white color and looked hand-knit. He longed to touch him everywhere, to feel him pressed against his body, to see what he looked like naked. He wanted to hear him murmur in pleasure, writhe underneath him, squirm with delight.

He looked up and saw Kylie frown at him. He made a sign to Aloysius that they’d been using as long as he could remember. It meant “pay attention.” They were talking about Ebon’s giving his soul away. He had actually done it: giving it away in exchange for the demon leaving his sister alone. Clearly, Kylie was saying, they would have to visit his sister instead. She would know more about the demon and who might be in charge of it now.

“I want to stay,” Aloysius blurted out. “I want to stay here for now.”

“I know you do,” Kylie replied.

Aloysius had inched his chair a little closer. He saw Ebon’s eyes sliding over his body, looking him up and down in the same way he had been doing to him earlier.

Ebon was about to say something, then closed his mouth. Then he opened it again and said, “Are you going to eat that?” Aloysius was sure he wanted to say something else. He wished he knew what.

“No. It’s good, but I can’t eat when I’m nervous.”

This made Ebon laugh and they both felt something loosen inside, like a knot had been picked apart inside of them just a little, unraveling. “Heh, when I’m nervous I do nothing but eat. Why are you nervous? Handsome guy like you never needs to be nervous.”

“I’m afraid you won’t let me stay, won’t let me get to know you.”

Ebon took the sandwich and glanced at Kylie who shrugged. He said to Aloysius, “I thought it was important to you to find your father.”

“It is. But this is more important.”

Kylie stood up and pushed Aloysius’s chair back. “Hey, Ally! Wake up in there! We have work to do!”

“No, this is my journey. I can’t go. I need to know you, Ebon.”

Ebon bit off a large hunk of cheese sandwich. When he had finished chewing and swallowing, he said, “I don’t understand.”

Kylie was leaning against Aloysius’s chair and snorted. “You’re his perfect ideal, friend.”

“Huh? Me, I’m nobody’s ideal.”

Aloysius sat up on the edge of his chair. “You’re wrong! I think you’re perfect. You’re handsome, you’re big, you’re kind and I can tell you have magic. And you and I are alike: I only have half a soul.”

Ebon frowned. “You’re crazy and you’re making me feel all of these things that aren’t real.”

“They are real! You feel them and I feel them. I take your feelings and I give them back. I can’t help it.”

“It’s scary.”

“Why?”

“Because the demon that took my soul, he made me feel the same way. Then it hurt so much when it was gone.”

“I don’t do that.”

“He doesn’t,” Kylie chimed in.

“How do you know? You fuck him?”

“No, I’m a voyeur, not a fag,” he said.

This made Ebon laugh. The laughter diffused some of the tension in the magic. It lightened everything and Aloysius was able to see more clearly. He was suddenly embarrassed.

“Ebon, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to come on so strongly.”

He looked sad for a moment, then he lifted his head in a brilliant smile. “It’s Okay, Aloysius, I think I kind of like it.”

“Really? Oh God, let me stay, at least for a little while.”

“I don’t know about God letting you stay. I don’t believe in him. But you and Kylie can stay for awhile.”

Kylie frowned. “We can’t stay. We have to talk to Des.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Fine. I’ll go. Ebon, what’s her number?”

Ebon got up to get some paper and a pen. While he was up, Kylie glared at Aloysius. “This whole trip was your idea. Why are you punking out on me?”

“I’m not. I just think that love is more important than revenge.”

“This is not love. It’s lust.”

Aloysius sighed. “I know. But it’s so intense. I have to know him. I have to.”

“I know you do. Fuck, I’ll go do some legwork on this myself for awhile.” He smiled mischievously. “I wonder if his sister is cute, like his friend at the library was.”

Ebon had overheard. “She is. Here’s her number.”

“Thanks. Can I use your phone?”

“Knock yourself out.”

* * *

Kylie had left them alone after drawing more charms over their hands and their arms. They were sitting at the same kitchen table, not talking, just staring at each other. They couldn’t stop staring, but at the same time, whatever Kylie had done to them hung all action: they were in limbo and it was almost painful, almost too sweet.

Aloysius stood up. “I’m going to wash these off.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No. But what could go wrong?”

Ebon laughed. “Whenever someone says that, something goes wrong.”

Aloysius sat down again. “Isn’t this driving you crazy?”

“Yes, it is. But I’m used to it.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ebon leaned back and folded his hands over his belly. “I haven’t been desired by anyone I desire back for quite a long time. I know how it feels. The only person who lusts after me for real is Stacey.”

“Your friend at the library?”

Ebon pushed his hair back. Aloysius liked this small gesture. He wanted to touch his hair, too, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t make himself do it even though he wanted to.

Ebon said, “Yeah. She’s my best friend and she’s had a crush on me for a long time. I feel bad about it.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Ebon shrugged.

“Why did you give your soul away?”

“You weren’t listening earlier, were you?”

Aloysius shook his head. “I couldn’t. I could only think about you.”

Ebon laughed again. “This is weird. I never expected this to happen.”

“What?”

Ebon waved his large hands in the air. “All this! The magic, you, everything. I don’t know, exactly… Anyway, I gave my soul away to save my sister.”

Aloysius had heard that part—a little of it anyway. “That’s very brave.”

“Not really. I’m an atheist and I didn’t believe in souls at the time. So it really wasn’t brave.”

“Do you believe now?”

“Nope. I mean, I know there are souls, but I don’t believe in God.”

“How can you not?”

“How can I?”

Aloysius didn’t know how to answer that. So he said instead, “I believe in God.”

“That’s OK, I still think I’m going to like you.”

Aloysius smiled. “I’m going to wash these off.”

“Uncomfortable with the conversation?” Ebon asked.

Aloysius shifted. “I don’t know… Kylie doesn’t believe in God either. I’ve talked about it before. I just think everything is so amazing, it couldn’t have just happened.”

“Hmm. Well, I don’t know, either. But I’m betting this is it.”

“You mean no Heaven, no afterlife?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why are we still sitting here?” He stood up and went to the sink. He began to scrub at the permanent marker on his hands and forearms. He wondered if it was a good idea again. He turned around and saw Ebon leaning back in his chair, lazily watching him wash his hands. He knew that once he could really connect to Ebon, he would know him in every way: He would have his thoughts, his fears, his desires. All of that would come to the surface through the act of lovemaking. Ebon would have Aloysius’s own feelings, too. Though most people didn’t seem to understand that they were feeling what Aloysius felt: they thought it was part of their own thoughts.

Aloysius stopped abruptly.

“Hmm. What are you doing?”

“I’m scared,” Aloysius said. “What if you don’t like me? I don’t think I could stand it.”

“I like you just fine. You’re gorgeous.”

“I don’t mean like that. I have all of these feelings running around inside my head. It’s really hard to explain. I mean, I didn’t go to college; I’m a farm-boy. I’m not sophisticated like you people in the North are.”

Ebon stood up and leaned against the sink. He was a full head taller than Aloysius and his whole body was twice as big, at least. He seemed to radiate heat. “This isn’t North vs. South. You know, the Civil War ended a long time ago. I don’t know what you expect to find here, but I can tell you, whatever it is you want from me, I can probably give it to you.”

Aloysius looked away.

“Don’t do that.”

“I can’t talk about it,” he said. “Wash your hands, too, please. I can’t take this anymore.”

Ebon put his hand over Aloysius’s and turned off the water with the other. “No, I need to know what’s going on with you. Is this just magic, these feelings? I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

“That part is magic… the feeling like you’ve always known me. The extra-crazy lust, is magic, but it’s a little real, too. But if you won’t like me because I’m a Christian, that’s too much for me. I don’t think I can handle it.”

Ebon laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Come here.” He gathered Aloysius and pressed him close. Aloysius lost himself in the embrace. He didn’t want it to stop.

“Ebon,” he murmured, “I need you to love me.”

Ebon stroked his hair gently. “I can’t promise that.”

“I know. And I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” he whispered. He kissed Aloysius on the top of his head. Then he kissed him lightly on the lips. “Sex is a bond. It doesn’t have to be about love, but it can be. Sex is beautiful in and of itself. Let’s enjoy that.”

Aloysius couldn’t answer. He was losing himself in the feelings.

“But,” Ebon said, “Let’s enjoy it after we know whether or not we like each other, hmm?”

“What!?”

“You heard me. Come in here,” he started walking out of the kitchen and into the solarium. “Let’s get to know each other’s brains.” He turned around and grinned. As far gone as Aloysius was, he had to grin back: Ebon’s smile was brilliant.

To be continued... feedback is welcome! ;)

Ayame's

anthropomorphic erotic art with emotion... and heart.

Less Than Whole

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