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An Indecent Transaction

“This is the place?” Seth asked, casting his indigo eyes up at the old three-story house.

“Yes.”

“It’s after midnight and the moon is behind the clouds. We’ve traveled all day, we’re tired, and you’ve never really been here before. Are you sure this is it?”

The other, slighter man shivered on the stone walkway beside his best friend and drew the hood of his coat down to give him a gentle yet annoyed look. “When have I ever steered you wrong?”

Seth shook his head, layered blonde hair bouncing about his face. “Fucking witch-baby.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dorian, said child of nature, kicked at his friend who easily dodged. “You wanted help, so here we are.”

“Across the fuckin’ state line!” Seth jumped up and down, shoving his hands in his pockets to fight the cold off. He didn’t like the looks of the decrepit yet sturdy house. Something was off. This part of the city was at least over a hundred years old. It should have been falling apart like every other mansion, yet only looked weathered. “Why couldn’t your grandma’ve just done it for me?”

“You know she doesn’t meddle with what you’re looking for.” Dorian frowned at him.

Old bag! Immediately Seth felt guilty for thinking badly about the woman. Half of him was afraid she would know and put some kind of a hex on him. She was nearly ninety-five but he feared her wrath more than anyone’s, besides Dorian’s. Sighing, Seth set his jaw and his eyes took on the confident, arrogant shine that told everyone who knew him he was determined to get what he wanted. A gentle hand on his arm stopped him and he turned to look into his friend’s worried hazel eyes.

“Are you sure about this?”

Seth gave him a charming smirk though he did not feel as cocky and cool as he usually did. “We’re already here. It would be pointless to back out now.”

“I know but—”

“You always know what to do, Dory. I trusted that this guy was legit because you brought him up.”

“Yeah, but it’s not—”

“I can’t let her go, Dorian. I fucked up and need things fixed.”

Dorian squelched the pain rising in his chest at his friend’s words. Seth, the gorgeous playboy, had squandered the love of a woman he had strung along and toyed with until she had given up and moved on, into the arms of another less striking, less successful man. He knew this was probably a mistake, but he could not bear the thought of his best friend hurting. Dorian gripped his hand for a moment before nodding and walking up the creaky wooden steps to the red door.

The fatigue of the day began to surface, and Dorian had a difficult time staying focused. He and Seth were from Houston – bustling and intense super city of Texas. His grandmother was a witch of sorts, her family having a deep vein of mysticism and shamans. Cherokee medicine workers. He himself knew quite a bit of the ceremony, putting together his family’s spiritualism with his own Pagan. Dorian had seen and felt things not many would believe and he kept it mostly to himself. When it got to be too much, Seth was there for him. He had always been there to take care of him. So when he had run into his little dilemma and no one could help him how he wanted, Dorian asked around in his own discreet and disarming way and found out a mysterious medicine man lived in the hilly, isolated region of southern Oklahoma. He was of Cherokee descent, he had gathered, but no one talked kindly of him. Many seemed afraid. His grandmother outright slapped him over the head for even mentioning him! Suffice it to say, he was not happy about this. But this was for Seth. That thought alone raised his hand to knock.

He gave two sharp raps to the sturdy surface and then stepped back quickly, pushing annoying loose strands from his black ponytail behind his ear. Promptly there were footsteps from within and the door opened, splashing warm light around them.

“Yes?” A woman their age looked at them curiously, wiping her hands on a stained apron.

“Sorry for the intrusion, but we are here to see Lyre Westreach?”

With a nod the woman showed them inside. As she took their coats and bid them remove their shoes, Dorian looked about curiously. Everything was clean and stylish in a new age sort of way. Lots of reds and blacks, purples and blues made up the décor scheme. Statues of mythological beasts carved from stone and wood were scattered in various nooks and crannies. To one side he found a counter and shelves. Jars, books, charms, incense, and other goods were neatly set up. Dorian couldn’t help closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of all the mixed smokes. It seemed this Westreach fellow had a little business from his home. Wooden wind chimes clinked together, further relaxing him.

“Do we need an appointment? I’m sure we came too late for him to still be up,” Seth inquired of the maid.

She smiled and laughed, amused in some way by his words. “Not at all. Master Lyre is a night owl and is very welcoming to those who simply stop by.”

“What we need to see him for I’m not sure can be bought at the store up front here.”

Dorian smiled from behind his friend. Seth was not meaning to be rude. It was just how he was, a part of his self-assured charm. He was thankful that their hostess did not seem offended in the slightest.

“Of course,” she smiled sweetly at them. “Please follow me. I’m Tilda by the way.”

Without another word, Tilda led them past the shop front. Their footsteps were muffled entirely by the soft red and gold carpet. Dorian noticed a pleasant warmth to the air and smiled when he found vents in the floors. Old house perhaps, but not frozen in time. It was nice to see a mix of eras, the ancient building with central heating and air conditioning. Tilda stood aside, lifting a heavy burgundy curtain as they passed through the doorway and they found themselves in a cozy den.

“If you’ll make yourselves comfortable, Master Lyre will be here shortly. I suppose you noticed not a lot out this way. Master Lyre will insist you stay the night if your dealings run late. If that’s the case, I’ll leave supper in the kitchen. Goodnight, gentlemen.” With her quick speech finished, Tilda tidied up and scampered away, the air of a busy woman about her. Dorian barely got his thanks voiced when she disappeared the way she came.

Seth did not seem fazed either way by the theatrics or hospitality of the place. He was a city boy. This place was a side-show in his eyes. Dorian on the other hand could not sit still. Even in that one room, he saw things that were priceless to the right people. Old jars filled with rare spices, resins, and gums lined shelves in pretty clusters. Relics and totems were safely behind a few glass cases and he found many old books his hands itched to touch. However, he remained polite and only looked.

“That’s just gross,” Seth said as he came up beside him. They both looked on in morbid fascination at a string of shrunken heads hanging from a polished hook on the wall. “No wonder everyone you talked to was afraid of the old coot.”

“It’s not like he treated these,” Dorian shrugged and looked closer. “These are ancient.”

“This place is creepy.”

“Isn’t it?” a smooth, deep voice said from behind them. “However, my consolation for sticking around is that a man with my heritage now owns some dead bastard’s plantation house that was in his inbred family for generations.”

They both turned and Dorian knew they were speechless for the same reason. “Are you Mr. Lyre Westreach?” he managed to ask without stuttering.

The man came to stand a few steps away from them and gave a low and regal bow. When he rose again a charming, sharp smile grazed his lips. “The one and only. I am at your service, travelers, for as long as my aid is required.”

Dorian swallowed but remained at ease. The man was strangely handsome, and not more than thirty. He had the majestic features of a pure-blood Cherokee man. His skin was smooth and a creamy cocoa color, his almond eyes were like onyx, framed by thick lashes; and his shiny black hair reached to his lower back. Dorian kept from taking a step back and toward his friend when the man’s gaze rested on him. Deep wisdom and wild magic shown in those black pools and he felt on the verge of being sucked up by him. His white tunic and loose black cotton pants flattered his strong figure. Bracelets, ear rings, rings, and a necklace he wore shone of polished silver and turquoise.

“We assumed, with the way Dorian’s family spoke of you, you would be much older,” Seth broke the choking silence. He kept his eyes and voice soft although he was beginning to hate the feeling that his best friend and this creepy witch-doctor were ignoring him.

Lyre looked to him and shrugged, smiling as he turned away. He fell into a graceful heap in one of the overstuffed chairs and motioned for them to sit as well. “What are your names, young ones, and what task do you wish me to complete?”

“My name is Seth and this is Dorian,” he said flatly, putting his hand on his friend’s knee. Something about the mystic made his overprotective side leap out to guard his small companion. “I’m the one who wants to do business with you.”

“Tell me your plight,” Lyre said as he crossed his long legs and nibbled on one of the small cakes his maid had set out on a large platter earlier. “Start from the beginning.”

“I was in a relationship with this girl for the past two years, I cheated on her constantly, wasn’t there for her, long story short she left me.”

“Sounds for the best, in my very humble opinion,” the older man said as he started on his fourth pastry.

“I love her.” Seth let the passion of his words shine in his eyes.

“Good for you. So what’s the problem?” Lyre licked the tips of his sugar-coated fingers.

“She won’t have me back. No matter what I do or say, she’s finished with me. She’s with some other man, getting married, pregnant…” Seth scoffed bitterly. He had lost many nights’ sleep to this topic.

Dorian gazed sadly at his friend, taking his hand. Seth grasped it firmly.

“Well, that sounds most desperate. What is it you want me to do, Seth? A highly potent love charm?”

“No, more needs to be done.” Seth shook his head and wet his lips. He couldn’t bring himself to lift his eyes from the interlocked hands in his lap. “I need her ruined, Mr. Westreach. She needs to lose that baby, lose that asshole, and then realize I am the one willing to stay by her no matter what.”

Dorian gasped. Seth had never mentioned this to him. If he had known, he wouldn’t have allowed it to come this far. Killing an unborn child? He knew very well it could be done and he was terrified of Seth going through with it.

“That’s a very serious set of curses, young one.” Lyre swallowed the last cake, not at all upset with the demand.

“Just tell me if you can do it.”

Dorian felt sick. “Seth—”

“Are you sure of your love?” Lyre asked as he ate the last crumbs off the silver plate with one slender finger. “Are you positive this woman is your heart and soul? Is she the one that you would die for if you couldn’t have in your life? Does she consume every inch of your sanity?”

Seth gripped the tanned, silken hand between his palms harder. “Yes.”

“Should I accept the task, young Seth, you will not like the price I will ask. A great sacrifice must be made for something such as this, but I promise you, you will live.” He held up his hand to silence the blonde and yawned loudly. “Give me this night to think. By morning you will know my answer. The second floor is entirely made up of bedrooms and bathrooms. The first one on the right is mine. You two may choose whichever ones you like. Good night to you both.” With that he bowed and swept out of the room.

The trek upstairs was made in complete silence. Nothing at all was spoken as they decided that the room with two beds within it would suffice. Dorian sat on one of the mattresses, waiting for his friend to return from the bathroom. He was terribly haunted by the fact that he would be responsible for Seth’s actions if some sense wasn’t talked into him.

“Seth—”

“Just don’t, Dorian,” Seth interrupted him as he pulled his shirt off and slid out of his jeans. He was under the blankets of his own borrowed bed and his back turned to him when he spoke again. “I planned this all along. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t need you trying to talk me out of it. Just don’t. Go to sleep.”

Dorian sat in the same position even in the dark. The snores from across the room told him Seth was having no problem finding peace. How could he do that to Lily? They had all been friends, he knew her because she hung out at their house all the time. She was sweet, a tad clingy, but a nice person. He never thought Seth had loved her. Dorian closed his eyes as pain gripped his heart. This wasn’t right. But if this was what Seth really wanted, he couldn’t intervene. He loved him too much to keep his happiness away.

A troubled frown came over him and he stood. Silently he opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Closing the bedroom door behind him, Dorian made his way to the end of the hall. A shaft of light was visible from beneath the master bedroom door. He took a deep breath and knocked, so softly he was sure no one could have heard, however, the door opened almost immediately and he was let inside.

“Hello, Dorian,” Lyre purred, ushering the young man further into the room. “Whatever brings you here I will try my best to please you.”

Dorian stood silent, worrying his lip as he clasped his shaking hands in front of him. There was something about this man. He had felt a strong calm envelope him when he had entered the house, but the moment Lyre had stepped into the room it had vanished. He was definitely not all he appeared to be. The man seemed as carefree as a child, had the appetite of a growing lad, the visible age of thirty summers, and the looks of a god. His eyes held ancient secrets, wisdom Dorian did not ever wish to know, and his greatest treasure, his beloved Seth had just made a deal with him for an unknown price.

“What do you want in return? You never said.”

Lyre stopped running a brush through his long mane and set it down on his dresser to turn and look at him with a slight smile on his face. “I believe that is between young Seth and me.”

“Seth is not in his right mind. I found out your name, your address, and took him to see you. I am responsible for what is going on now.”

“It is his curse. It is only fair that he pays himself.”

“I can’t have that.”

“Oh?” Lyre was beginning to find this greatly amusing.

“If this is what he wants, I can’t have him not going through with it just because what you ask for scares him off.”

“And you aren’t afraid of whatever nasty, sinister thing I require?”

Dorian let every ounce of his determination show in his darkening eyes. “No. You will do your bargaining with me.”

Lyre laughed softly, “Oh, there won’t be any bargaining. I will say my want and you can either accept or deny me and lose my business. I assure you, it is nothing dangerous or would cause you to become wanted by the police.”

“Fine.” Dorian lowered his head, unable to stand the man’s growing smile any longer. Suddenly a warm hand gripped his chin and firmly raised his gaze back up. Dorian’s eyes widened and his heart hammered in his chest as his host leaned close to his ear.

“Come to my bed.”

“What?” Dorian took as many steps necessary to escape the closeness of the other body. He imagined he looked like some kind of frightened animal as he stared at the other man, his body trembling.

“Don’t mistake me, Dorian. I could ask for what these curses need. Hair from a mother dead for a year, virgin blood, absinthe, or various other hard-to-get objects. Fortunately, I have a steady supply of all of those.” He stepped closer, keeping his face neutral although he was pleased that the young man did not put more distance between them. “I could ask for things that I have been trying to acquire for a while now – fire opals, bars of silver, blood wine, pounds of saffron, and so on. I could be outrageous and demand a heart of a bear, a liver of a buffalo.”

Dorian turned his head away on instinct but knew his pursuer was not put off as he came closer until they were touching. He inhaled a shaky breath as a hand trailed spidery touches down his arm.

“I don’t want any of those things. At this moment, those objects are as valuable to me as my own shit. They are trifles. From Seth I would have asked for a trifle, but what I truly desire is one night with the beautiful half-breed that came so willingly and selflessly to my home and into my bedchamber.”

Dorian closed his eyes and tried to control his shaking. For Seth he would do anything. “If that’s really what you want then all right. Let’s just get this over with.” He jumped as Lyre let out a loud laugh.

“You are a silly one,” he wrapped his arm around the slender waist. “The night is young, Dorian.” Lyre ran his hand through the silky shoulder-length black hair that concealed his prize’s blushing face and drew it away from his neck so he could place a kiss there. “If I only get one night with you, you can be assured that I am going to make this last until morning.”

Dorian had shut his eyes tight at the feel of lips on him but they popped back open when he heard the last statement. This had to take only a few hours. He couldn’t stay until morning. He had to be back before Seth woke up!

“No, you are not going to escape this by zoning out on me,” Lyre growled, whipping his head up to kiss him fully on the mouth.

What disturbed Dorian the most was that he was unable to concentrate on anything outside of their personal space after he kissed him. Dorian groaned and closed his eyes as the expert mouth teased and tasted his lips. His lids fluttered as their tongues met and massaged one another. It turned sloppy, smacking sounds lifting into the air as he was pulled tightly against the man’s strong chest and pushed back. His legs hit the edge of something and he sat down without being prompted. A soft mattress met his rear.

He raised his arms, feverish with excitement as his t-shirt was taken from him. Their slow, wet kisses paused for but a moment as Lyre kneeled between his legs so they were once again level with each other. Dorian’s head lolled back as hands, lips, tongue, and teeth mapped out the sensitive places on his neck and chest. For a split second anxiety filled him. He shouldn’t be enjoying this. He moaned loudly as he was pulled forward and his bottom was squeezed while his belt and zipper were opened.

“Pretty little half-breed, angelic child of the forests,” Lyre whispered huskily over his prize’s abdomen. The jeans and boxers slid easily down his hips and firm ass. They pooled around his ankles, leaving the vision rather bare and glorious for his eyes alone. “What is your father’s heritage, young one?”

“French,” Dorian groaned and closed his eyes in pleasant anticipation when Lyre gripped him gently underneath one thigh and raised it against his waist as he leaned him onto his bed. The moment the older man touched him he had felt something ethereal. There would have been no point in denying him an answer or lying. Nor was there a reason to begin to fear him. He was at his host’s mercy already.

Suddenly the touches stopped and the other presence left the bed. Dorian cracked his eyes opened, achingly hard and afraid he had done something wrong. His dark forest green and brown eyes widened as he found the man instantly. He hadn’t gone far. Lyre had stood once he had situated his lover comfortably on the large bed and began to undress. His clothes slid off of him, revealing the body of a graceful warrior. A toned chest, muscular arms, and a tapering waist that led to strong legs. His package was impressive.

Dorian blushed, feeling inadequate. It wasn’t that he was underdeveloped, but among the few men he had seen while in the locker room and now in the bedroom, he could tell this man was of the rare “third leg” group. The only other man who came close to being as nicely proportioned without looking deformed was sleeping unaware a few doors down. Dorian didn’t have time to feel guilt, he was busy fearing the prospect of being torn and bruised.

Lyre chuckled, seeing clearly the dread on the poor man’s face. He knelt onto the bed, crawling between legs that fell faintly apart at his hungry approach. His hands ran up his legs, the bangles and bracelets jingling, the silver barbed bracer poking deliciously at his skin. He absolutely loved how his payment reacted to every little stimulant. “There is nothing to fear, my untried one. When I am ready to skewer you, I will fit so perfectly it will seem as though it has finally found its home.” He laughed again at the dark blush coloring Dorian’s cheeks and gave him another deep kiss.

The young man hissed as their bodies met completely. He felt adored, loved, and worshipped under Lyre’s treatment. Tears came to his eyes as kisses were planted down his chest. This would be the only time. Though it was not the man he truly wanted, he at least would enjoy his first time. The fact that he was doing this for Seth made it more endurable.

“He is a bloody fool,” Lyre whispered as he traced his fingers along Dorian’s swollen shaft. Fire shot through his body as he watched the organ react to his touch and he immediately leaned down to taste him.

Dorian moaned, squirming about on the bed as he was sucked to the root inside the man’s surprisingly cavernous mouth. How could he possibly fit him in there? Lyre swallowed around his penis eagerly and Dorian’s eyes rolled back. The head was all the way to his tonsils. His hips began to buck hard and through the lusty haze in his mind he felt shame. Lyre had his hands planted in the sheets on each side of him and let him take over the rhythm. He was fucking the man’s mouth, screaming, and gripping his midnight hair hard as he lost control of himself.

Lyre began to hum as his long tongue wrapped around and flicked at the invading shaft in his mouth. He took Dorian’s hands from behind his head and held them firmly as he lifted up. With just the tip of the salty head still inside, he commenced to sucking hard, licking, and gently biting at it. The slender man gasped, choking on a howl as he came. Lyre did not miss a drop, licking and sucking on the withering erection until not a trace of the sticky substance was left.

“You have the sweetest milk I have ever tasted,” he whispered against the shiny wet cap of the empty organ and gave it one last kiss.

As soon as he rose he smiled at the dazed magnificence beneath him, sweating and far-gone in his bliss. Effortlessly he rolled him over. Dorian let loose a string of quiet moans, continuous whimpers as he blindly wriggled about on the bed. Lyre felt his cock twitch, hardening further at the sight of the slightly creamier backside rise and wiggle in the air. Even unhinged by sated desire, Dorian was grace and coltish elegance personified. His mouth watered at the sight of the willing body.

Dorian clawed at the pillows in his reach. His slender, slick chest rose and fell fast with the preparations his host took with his body. It was uncomfortable, more so because of the vulnerability he felt in his position. After he had come off his incredible high, he felt intrusive, slippery fingers fiddling about with his backside. He gave a drawn-out, pitiful yelp as the man pushed four digits inside his body. His flesh burned, enflamed by pain and a dull throb of sleepy lust. He was too drained to react.

Lyre gave a hasty kiss in apology to Dorian’s sweaty shoulder blade as he positioned himself. Guiding his heavy cock forward, he groaned as his leaking tip slid inside the hot, stretched opening. Inch after inch surged onward, quick as though the half-breed’s body was sucking him inside, wanting just as badly for him to begin rutting away.

Dorian hissed, his eyes clamping shut as the gigantic organ filled him. Lyre’s hands grabbed his hips as he rocketed in and out of him. The way he was moving there was no way he would last long. He bit his lip but couldn’t hold back a moan as his prostate was hammered. Why did he have to enjoy it so much? The man behind him began to growl and snarl as his thrusts became harsher. Dorian’s toes curled, the feeling was indescribable. How could things go back to normal after this?

Lyre grunted, burying his cock deep inside him as he came. Dorian hissed as the hot, salty liquid stung and filled his aching body. He dropped his face into the pillows, groaning as his penis woke up half way. The small erection grew to painful hardness as he noticed Lyre was still rocking his hips. He figured he was draining every drop he could but then the softening monster inside him began to lengthen and press against his prostate.

“Oh, God…is this possible?” Dorian gasped, gripping the sheets as he lifted his ass into the air.

A deep, melodious laugh came into his ear as lips skimmed down his neck and to his back. He groaned sadly as the man pulled out. What was going on? He couldn’t possibly be finished! Warm, gentle hands guided him onto his back and Dorian nearly had a heart attack. Massaging his leg and looking past a shaggy curtain of soaked blonde hair was a pair of deep blue, nearly royal purple eyes. They were serious, caring; the soft lines of the perfect mouth were molded into a small loving smile. He whimpered as his leg was placed atop one broad, milky shoulder.

“Seth?” Dorian groaned, not able to finish or concentrate on anything else as his best friend, the only one he would ever truly love completely, pushed inside of him.

He arched up, grabbing him by the shoulders, gripping his slick back as Seth leaned down to kiss him. They both shivered as they made love slowly. Seth did not bother rutting wildly like some cave man. He was going to take his time, make him know that he cherished him above all others. Only after an hour of slow gyrations and unhurried thrusts did they both begin to feel the desperation of lust.

Dorian screamed, muffled against his shoulder as one particular thrust nearly caused him to black out. A strong, artistic hand wrapped around his bobbing erection and began to pump quickly with the shortening thrusts. That proved his undoing and he could not hold off his impending orgasm another second. A mere shift of his hips later and the gorgeous man above him filled him with his thick semen. He opened his arms and let Seth fall on top of him. They panted and nuzzled each other, struck dumb by the force of their coupling. Hands cleared dark hair away from his drenched forehead and Dorian smiled sleepily at the adoration in the other’s eyes.

“I love you,” he said against lips giving another kiss. He fell asleep easily in his friend’s strong hold.

“Dorian?” Standing in the doorway, Seth could not believe his eyes.

Dorian, his best friend, the most valuable thing in his worthless life, was out cold in some strange bed, with a smile on his reddened lips. He had woken to noise down the hall and when he turned to ask if the lighter sleeper of the two had heard anything, he found not only the bed not slept in, but Dorian was gone from the room entirely. Instantly Seth was out of bed, grabbing his pants and shoving them on as he made his way to the door.

It was utterly silent in the house. Not even creaks that usually came with old ones like this were present. Seth went more on guard, determined to find his friend. He swore if the dork had just gone down to the kitchen, he was going to beat the shit out of him! Dorian knew he worried about him, especially when they were away from familiar surroundings. However, he did not miss for one second the way Westreach had admired the small man, though he pretended otherwise. He couldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. Passing by the older man’s cracked open bedroom door made him freeze. There was movement within.

He had walked right in and almost wished he hadn’t. A pain so deep it felt like he was bleeding internally ripped through him. It was stuffy in the room, which allowed for just the flimsy sheet covering their still glistening bodies. Seeing Dorian so satisfied and content was bad enough, but what killed him was the arm wrapped possessively around his waist. All he could see was that arm and he wanted to die. Woodenly he turned to leave.

Movement stopped him and he froze, eyes widening in horror as his mirror image rose to look at him with amused violet eyes. Seth’s gaze broke when a tired murmur escaped Dorian’s mouth.

“Seth,” he mumbled and rolled onto his other side, snuggling against the phantom next to him.

The sheet fell away. His doppelganger smiled, never taking his eyes off of Seth as he let his hand move over a silky orb of his ass. He pulled slightly on the cheek, chuckling softly as a whirlwind of emotions ran through Seth’s eyes when he saw traces of the other man’s attentions leak out of Dorian’s still opened body. He released the flesh and pulled away. When he stood he grabbed a robe on the end of the bed. As he turned, Seth fought the urge to run as he was now facing Lyre Westreach. He was scared shitless, but he wasn’t about to leave Dorian.

“Well, this is a bit inconvenient, young Seth. However, I am satisfied with our bargain and so I agree to do your task.” Lyre pulled his long hair out of his robe and stepped closer.

“What?” Seth was so angry he found all intelligence drain from him.

“The price to do as you asked was to bed the lovely Dorian. For you, he took responsibility for payment and I couldn’t refuse, nor let such an opportunity pass me up. You understand, I’m sure. I also hope you at least recognize the devotion he shows to you, unlike the woman you wish to win back.”

“I…” Seth felt sick. The smell of sex clung to Lyre and hung heavily in the air. He didn’t know what to make of the things running through his head. This was all wrong. What the fuck had he let happen? “Dorian…for me?”

Lyre grabbed his hands in a firm grip, eyes taking on a serious fire. “It is done, Seth. Now you must decide. I have the necessary materials for the curses you want and I have had my payment. It shouldn’t take long to complete and you shall have results by the week’s end. The transaction is complete with your approval.”

“I shall ask you again, and this time, answer with all the truth in your heart. Is Lily the one you want? Is she the one that can make or destroy your existence? Does your soul yearn for only her? Do you really love her most out of everything in your life? Can you live with keeping her from her first-born child, her future husband?”

“No.” The answer came quickly and truthfully.

Lyre breathed a small laugh and smirked. “As I thought. Very well.”

As he spoke the words, Seth shook his head, feeling an intense wave of dizziness overcome him. He blacked out even before he fell.

Sunlight splashed across his eyes, making his head feel even funkier. Seth groaned and cracked his eyes opened. This was not his room. Old fashioned furniture and decorum made up the atmosphere. The heavy smell of musk and incense made him remember. He was hundreds of miles away from home and staying in some nut-job’s house. All because he was a stupid, selfish asshole!

A moany little groan sounded into the room and Seth jerked fully awake as a warm, naked body rolled close to him. He looked down, his heart beating fast, as he found a head covered in silky black hair lying atop his chest. Seth swallowed, thankful he didn’t taste any trace of alcohol as he cradled the body and rolled to his side.

Dorian sighed, still sleepy as Seth brushed his hair away from his face. His breath hitched. What the fuck happened the night before? He hadn’t a clue. The way his body felt, he had been through a sexual marathon.

“God, Dorian,” he whispered, tracing his friend’s jaw with his thumb.

A chill ran up his spine as he recalled his dream. It had to have been. It was just stress. He had just been creeped out by their host. There was no way that happened. Because, he reasoned, if that asshole even tried touching Dorian, he would have killed him. Dark fury bubbled up inside him at the thought and he had a few deep breaths to calm himself. He had made peace with his possessiveness over Dorian years ago. He just never thought he would have to admit it to anyone else.

His eyes raked over the sight laid out for him. All beautiful lines and graceful angles, that was what made up Dorian. Small compact muscles and the feel of steel beneath suede. Seth could easily admit to loving him this morning. He kissed his cheek, smiling at the way the other man leaned into his touch.

Perhaps he had been given a sign to get off of his ass and make a move.

Thumping down the stairs after he had carefully extracted himself away from his new and permanent lover, Seth began his search for the odd medicine man. He found him in the cozy breakfast nook, lounging at the table in a gauzy robe, reading the paper while his strawberry pancakes cooled. Lyre looked up and smiled at his guest.

“Ah, young Seth!” he smiled and popped a plump, whipped cream-covered berry in his mouth. “I hope you slept well. I have thought of payment.”

“Good morning, sir. There’s no need for payment. I’ve changed my mind.” Seth put a fifty on the table. “Thank you for letting us stay here. We have to get back now.” With that he left up the stairs in a hurry.

Lyre smirked, snatching the money off of the table and shoving it into his robe. He watched his guest retreat, a metallic sheen coming over his eyes for a moment before disappearing to once again look normal. He had an idea of what the young man was hurrying to.

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