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Chanting. Darkness. Cloaked figures surrounding us, coming closer.
Morag on top of me, her shoulder-length hair bobbing back and forth, my hands moving along her thighs, across her hips, around her waist. Her green eyes glowing in the semi-darkness. She smiles.
A burst of flame. The world turns red. I taste iron, mixed with copper. Salty. Sweet.
Morag’s hair grows longer, reaching to her waist. Her fingers entwine with mine, leaning forward, nails digging into the back of my hands, holding me down as she writhes on top of me. I look for the spider tattoo, but it has disappeared, replaced by a ring of burning roses. Burning... burning...
Like the candles that form a circle around us, flames leaping and dancing to throw chaotic shadows on the walls. Here a face, flickering as it leers towards us, licking its lips as horns rise from its forehead. There a horde of misshapen nightmares, infinitely far away but shooting towards us at speeds that make a mockery of modern physics. I watch them approach, knowing that it’s wrong, they shouldn’t be there, can’t be there. I try to tell her, warn her, but something soft and warm covers my face.
Another burst of flame. Screams. Chanting. Bestial roars.
Morag’s familiar butterfly tattoo, stretching across the upper part of her back, sweating and bunching as her arms strain to push back against me. I look down at it, watching drops of sweat gather together before running up over her collarbone. Then I see it shimmer, melt, transform into a green dragon that chases the butterfly up over her shoulder. The dragon howls, in anger. In pain. In ecstasy.
Fire. Burning me. Burning her. Burning everything. The air. The earth. The blood in our veins.
Blood pounding, pounding, primal thunder numbing the civilized part of our brains, thrashing to the beat of an older consciousness. Darker. Stronger. Snarling, growling, clawing its way through generations of soft civilization, ripping through the fleshy chains of modern society, thrusting its bloody snout once more through the membrane between the worlds, tasting the heady ambrosia of life.
Blood. Pain. Frustration.
Nails scratch across naked skin. Teeth bite down. The taste of sweat. Cinnamon and honey. Panting. Hoarse, raw, growing louder, more intense. Forming primitive words, struggling, losing focus.
Green eyes burning through to my soul. Chanting. Shouting. Screaming.
I’m on my knees, watching the dance of the dragon. It swoops. It leaps. It flexes its wings. It turns its face towards me. It smiles. A knowing smile, full of ancient cunning. The mouth opens. Shadows caper within. The shadows scream in ecstasy. They roar in triumph. Flame arcs across the sky, obliterating everything in its path. And I dissolve into nothing, in an explosion that consumes the entire universe.
*
IN THE AFTERMATH, BODIES suspended in a timeless void, bloody and raw, rictus grins masking the pain, the sense of loss. Rafael. Damien. Peacefully together at last. A third body, spinning slowly towards them. They turn to greet it. It draws away. Their dead arms open, preparing for the embrace, denying the urge for separateness. It spins closer, head shaking, not wanting this. But their eyes glow brighter, grins spread wider, fingers twitching in encouragement. I recognize the third body. It opens its mouth in a soundless scream as our eyes lock, and I find myself looking into a mirror.
Soft fingers stroking my hair. Cool hands on my forehead. Warm lips pressing against my mouth, my nose, my brow. “I release you, my lord.”
*
“FUCK!”
I shot to my feet, tossing back the blankets and bouncing off a cupboard door. Head spinning, I raised my arms in a defensive crouch, looking around to identify my surroundings.
“This is new,” came a sleepy voice from the bed.
My heart was pounding. Hair plastered against my skull. Body drenched in sweat. I managed to control my breathing. Lowered my arms. Straightened my legs. Leaned back against the coolness of the bedroom cupboard. Closed my eyes to stop the room spinning around them.
“DTs again?” The voice sounded reassuringly familiar.
“Or the worst nightmare anyone’s ever had.”
A giggle. “Can’t have been that bad.”
I opened my eyes. Green pinpricks peered back at me from a cave made of blankets and hair. I looked down, following their gaze past the scratches on my chest.
“At least someone’s happy to see me,” she purred. “Bring that over here where it belongs. I’ll try not to scare you this time.”