Chapter Seven

 

 

 

Felix leaned against the counter in Nathaniel’s kitchen, the solid Italian marble pressing into his lower back. Nathaniel watched him, waiting for him to speak.

“Come on. I know you can’t wait to tell me what an idiot I am.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“Seems like you already know.” Felix raised his glass of iced water in a mocking toast.

Nathaniel fixated on the slice of lemon floating in his own glass. “There’s something about him. I don’t know what it is.”

“He’s a brat.”

“Probably.”

“Definitely. You’re not seeing that side of him yet because Symeon Malus no doubt beat the spirit out of him. A few weeks knowing that he’s not going to be smacked around or used for what his body can provide and he’ll revert to type. Class A brat.”

“How do you get over six years of abuse?” Nathaniel twirled the ice in his glass with his finger.

“You have to remember that Damon was a willing participant—at least to start with. He loved Symeon. Well…he was infatuated with him. He’s only realized recently that the way Symeon treated him wasn’t normal for a Dom-sub relationship.”

“Symeon is a piece of shit. As warlocks we have even more responsibility to take care of those we love. The power takes control to a whole new level. Damon did not consent to be used like he was.”

“And yet Symeon was able to channel through him. There had to be love involved.”

“I think Damon genuinely cared for Symeon. He was too young and naïve to recognize Symeon for the sadist he is. That man wouldn’t know love if it smacked him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper.”

Felix snorted. “If Symeon can get what he needs from the Octis Coven, he won’t be bothered about hunting Damon down.”

“He’ll be safe with us.” Nathaniel rolled his shoulders, listening to his joints pop. “I’m more concerned about convincing him to stay.”

“You want him.”

It wasn’t a question and Nathaniel couldn’t deny it. Damon was exactly his type. “Yes.”

Felix shook his head. “That boy has trouble written all over him. I suggest you invest in some sturdy handcuffs and a leash.”

Nathaniel blinked.

“Ah, you already have them, I suppose?”

“It’s always good to be prepared.” Nathaniel grinned. “Damon’s been moping around the house for two weeks now. He’s drifting. Time to take him in hand.”

“Good luck with that.” Felix’s expression was dubious. “If you want him productively employed, I’m intending to clean out the garage this afternoon. I could use some help.”

“You could eat off the floor in there,” Nathaniel commented.

“Which is why it needs scrubbing to keep it that way.”

Nathaniel wasn’t going to argue. The cars and garages were Felix’s domain. It was more than his life was worth to interfere with either. Felix gave him a brief wave before disappearing to his world of crankshafts and carburetors. Nathaniel set his glass next to the sink then set off to find his house guest.

He had installed Damon in one of several large guestrooms, one with its own attached bathroom. Damon hadn’t ventured out very much. He showed up on time to eat. He seemed clean and tidy—helped by the few clothes and toiletries Felix had supplied—but there was an air of melancholy about him. Nathaniel tapped on Damon’s door but didn’t wait for a response before entering. Damon was lying on his bed wearing a pair of faded jeans and a snug black T-shirt. His feet were bare and his dark hair needed combing. He scrambled from the bed, face bleaching white.

“I…I’m sorry, Sir.” Damon’s voice shook.

“Sorry for what?” Nathaniel asked. “I’m not aware that you have anything to apologize for.”

“I just… You don’t seem to want me around. I’ll leave as soon as I pack. Not that I’ve got anything to put my things in.” He glanced around the room, seeming panicked.

“You don’t get away from me that easily,” Nathaniel said. “I apologize. I thought giving you some space for a while would help you settle in and clearly I’ve achieved the opposite.”

“I’m not used to having my own room, Sir. Symeon made me sleep at the foot of his bed, unless he wanted… Well, unless he…”

Nathaniel held up a hand. “No need to explain. You’re quite safe here. No one is going to make you do anything you don’t consent to. I won’t invade your room again without your invitation.”

“It’s your house, Sir.” Damon stared at his bare toes.

“Yours too, while you stay here. You’re free to leave at any time, Damon, but I would prefer that you stay. I think I can give you what you need, if you’ll allow it.”

“I’ve not had choices before, Sir. I find things easier if someone tells me what to do.”

“That’s not at all surprising for a natural submissive. You should still be involved in decisions made on your behalf. I think it might be helpful if we drew up a contract. One we both agree to.” Nathaniel didn’t attempt to get any closer to Damon, much as he wanted to hold him and provide some comfort. “It helps that you know what I am. Being a warlock is not a simple thing to explain to a prospective partner.”

Damon’s face flushed a pretty shade of rose. “You don’t hate me, Sir?”

“I don’t know you, but I’d like to. I have a feeling we’ll be compatible and I’d like to explore that, if you’re willing.”

“Yes! I mean, I think I’d like that too.”

Nathaniel hid a smile. Damon was transparent as crystal. “Very well. Then let’s go downstairs, make ourselves comfortable and have a chat about what it is you need.” Nathaniel pinned Damon with a stern look. “Don’t bother with shoes and take your shirt off.”

Damon’s pupils dilated until black almost covered the dark gray of his irises. Nathaniel headed for the stairs, not checking if Damon did as he’d been ordered. It was quite clear to him that the boy needed to be taken care of—the craving for affection shone in his pretty eyes.

Nathaniel chose a corner of his huge sectional couch where Damon could elect to sit next to him or keep some space between them. He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. Damon hesitated at the door then padded across the room. He paused in front of Nathaniel then sank gracefully to his knees.

“I’m impressed, Damon, but for now you can sit on the couch. Until we have a proper agreement between us, I’m your host, not your Master.” Damon rose then perched on the edge of the couch. Tension was apparent in every taut muscle. “I didn’t ask you to come down here shirtless because I wanted a chance to ogle. You’ve been moving stiffly and I wanted to check for injuries.”

“I’m fine,” Damon muttered, folding his arms across his chest.

“You’re bruised.” Nathaniel could see the remains of old wounds on several areas of Damon’s torso. He wondered how much more was hidden elsewhere. “Symeon beat you.” Damon didn’t respond, but then Nathaniel hadn’t asked a question. “Any contract between us is going to be founded on honesty. Tell me right now if anything he did is still bothering you.”

“Not now, Sir. He… He wasn’t careful the last time he took me. He liked it rough.”

“I’m going to need to take a look, Damon. Stand up then drop your pants.”

Damon’s sigh was one of resignation rather than resistance. His pants slipped over hips that were a shade too thin. Faded yellow finger-shaped bruising was apparent on both sides of his body. There were traces of old welts on his buttocks.

“Show me.”

Damon bent, reached back and pulled his ass cheeks apart. Nathaniel didn’t touch. “There’s still some reddened skin, but I can see you’ve been taking care of yourself. I would like my doctor to give you an internal examination though. Okay, you can pull up your pants.”

“Like what you see?” Damon’s attempt at bravado fell flat.

“You’re too thin. You’ve been abused. But you do have a cute ass. Thank you for cooperating. My intent was not to humiliate you. If we reach an agreement, then I will require access to your body at all times. Before you ask, that doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck you. Your health and wellbeing will become my responsibility. Have you ever taken drugs?”

Damon finished fastening his pants. “No, Sir. Symeon didn’t allow alcohol or drugs, not even cigarettes.”

Nathaniel grunted. “That’s probably the only thing he would be able to claim as a similarity with me. I expect you to keep your body clean and healthy, inside and out.”

“But you’re not going to fuck me? You don’t want me?”

“I don’t believe I said that. But it won’t happen until you ask for it.”

“My choice?”

“Always.” Nathaniel ran a hand through his hair, a repetitive habit he realized he needed to break. “I propose we begin with a simple contract that outlines a few rules. This is for you just as much as me, so I expect you to contribute.” He grabbed a pad from a side table then took a pen from his shirt pocket. “I have few requirements. Honesty, obedience and a willingness to learn. I would like to give you some responsibilities around the house and Felix may also have tasks for you. You’ll follow an exercise regime and support me in my work.”

“Symeon mentioned you worked with the winds,” Damon stated. “I don’t know much more than that.”

“I have the strongest connection with the air element. My business is in renewable energy—wind farms mainly, though not exclusively. My abilities mean I am able to ensure their maximum efficiency. A large percentage of the organization’s profits is plowed back into research.”

“But you don’t have anyone to channel through? No boyfriend?”

“No. I have learned to channel through many people at once. It’s not as effective and it’s hard work, but it does the job.”

“Maybe one day you could channel through me?” Damon suggested.

“Perhaps, but in the meantime you can support me on my trips to manage the winds. Felix has been plaguing me to find an assistant for a while.”

“I want to be useful. I’ll help in any way I can.”

Damon seemed pleased. Nathaniel wrote a few lines on his pad, summarizing what they’d discussed so far.

“What happens if I break any of your rules, Sir?”

“They’re our rules, Damon, not just mine. Break them and you’ll be punished.”

“By you?”

“By me. In a way I will explain to you at the time. Any punishment will fit the crime.” He grinned. Damon rolled his eyes.

“Doms. Always ready to hand out a spanking.”

“I think you’d enjoy that too much for it to be considered a punishment.”

“I’m not saying a word.”

“Probably best. Now is there anything you want to add to the sheet?”

Damon took the pad and pen. He hesitated before writing a line or two then handed it back to Nathaniel.

“Nathaniel will protect Damon from Symeon Malus and all other supernatural threats,” Nathaniel read. “I’ll certainly do my best.” He laid his hand on Damon’s knee. “I promise.” Damon didn’t move his leg.

 

* * * *

 

That evening, Nathaniel, Felix and Damon settled around the kitchen table to share a meal that Damon had prepared. The room was filled with savory aromas and Nathaniel found his mouth watering. Damon, still barefoot but now wearing a T-shirt with his jeans, had a smudge of flour on his nose. He placed a bowl of salad on the table, which was already set for three.

“This actually smells great,” Felix announced, sounding surprised. “It’s a big improvement on anything you’ve ever produced, Nate, and I haven’t even tasted it yet.”

Nathaniel shrugged. Felix was right. Neither of them could cook worth a damn. They kept half the restaurants in the area in business with their takeout orders. “I’m amazed Damon even found enough ingredients to cook with.”

“The contents of your fridge are pathetic,” Damon said, cheerfully. “Good thing I’m a miracle worker. I will need to go to the market, though, if you want me to carry on with catering duty.” He placed a steaming dish on the table. “I made shepherd’s pie. There was ground beef in the freezer and some frozen vegetables and I found some potatoes that were just about salvageable. It would be much better with more fresh stuff.” He distributed three warm plates then handed Nathaniel a serving spoon. Nathaniel gave it back.

“You should do the honors.”

Damon’s cheeks pinked but he set to ladling generous portions onto each plate.

“Oh my God, this is good,” Felix managed between mouthfuls. “Chain him to something in here, Nate. He should never be allowed to leave the kitchen.”

Damon giggled. The sound made Nathaniel smile. Damon’s young—he should be enjoying himself. He hasn’t had much to smile about for the last few years, that’s certain.

“But if I can’t go out for groceries, you won’t get to eat more home-cooked food, Felix.”

“I’ll take you myself. I’ll even push the cart.” Felix shoved another forkful of food into his mouth with an orgasmic moan.

“You can go shopping, Damon,” Nathaniel said. “But I don’t want you going out alone until we know what Symeon is up to.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“No arguments?” Nathaniel was somewhat surprised that Damon didn’t balk at being guarded.

“I know Symeon too well, Sir. I’m a useful possession. He won’t want to lose me.” He nibbled on his lower lip before resuming his meal.

A few minutes later all the plates were empty. Damon made coffee after stacking the dishes by the sink. Nathaniel sipped his, enjoying the slight bitterness on his tongue.

“Take a seat, Damon. I’d like you to tell us about how you first met Evrain and Dominic. If I’m to support them, I need to know as much as possible about what happened. Gregory told me about the fight between Evrain and Symeon but I don’t know much about how that point was reached.”

“I’m not very proud of what I did, Sir. My part in what happened wasn’t nice.” Damon stared at the well-scrubbed table.

“It’s history. You were under the influence of evil. You weren’t to blame, Damon, and I’m sure Evrain realizes that.”

“He wants to fry me. Or turn me into a slug.”

Felix snorted. “Sorry.”

Nathaniel glared at him. “Not helping, Felix. While Evrain could certainly achieve the first option, he couldn’t manage the second, so no need to have nightmares about waking up with a craving for lettuce. He knows I’ve given you my protection so there will be no frying anyone either.”

“Okay, well, it all started when Evrain came into his power. Symeon was furious because Evrain is many times more powerful than he is. He went to visit him. Tried to get him to agree to an alliance.”

“But Evrain is honest,” Nathaniel interjected. “He was brought up, at least in part, by Gregory and Agatha. They would have made sure his path was straight.”

“Yes,” Damon agreed. “Evrain would have nothing to do with him. Symeon became obsessed. He wanted to crush Evrain and he realized that the easiest way to get to him was through Dominic. He set up a work appointment for Dominic then when he was driving home, I ran him off the road.” Damon chewed on a nail until Nathaniel pulled his hand away from his mouth.

“It’s okay. Carry on.”

“Symeon kept Dominic prisoner at a property he owned. Dominic tried to escape and Symeon hurt him. He changed him. Made him even better looking than he already was. He wanted Evrain to see what he could do. He wanted him to feel helpless.” Damon shuddered and half sobbed. “He got Evrain to agree to meet him. They fought and…you know the rest.”

“Thank you, Damon. That can’t have been easy.”

“I wasn’t kind to Dominic while he was a prisoner. I was jealous. Symeon gave him more attention than me, then used me to channel while he changed him.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’m as bad as Symeon.”

Nathaniel had no doubt that Damon’s remorse was genuine. He could sense the guilt and regret. “You could never be as bad as that snake, Damon. Evrain and Dominic won’t hold a grudge. You can make amends by never getting anywhere near Symeon ever again. Without you to channel through, his power is reduced. He’s reliant on the Octis Coven’s potions—not a very secure place to be. Once they get what they need from him, the Coven will drop Symeon faster than Felix can consume a Snickers bar.”

“And that’s fast,” Felix contributed.

“He couldn’t channel through me now anyway,” Damon muttered. “I don’t love him. I don’t feel anything for him. I’m just numb.” He peeked from beneath thick, black lashes.

“Nobody here is going to tell you how you should be feeling. I’ll avoid too many platitudes because I can’t know what’s going through your head, but time will help. You can talk to me anytime.”

“Or me,” Felix said. “For what it’s worth, but only if you feed me.” Felix’s grin was disarming.

“You’re already a step ahead of me. I’ve never had that offer.” Nathaniel glared at Felix.

“You talk my ears off every time we’re in the car. I should be paid as your personal therapist, not just your driver,” Felix complained.

Damon’s moved his head from side to side as if watching a tennis match. “You two are…certifiable.”

“Welcome to the family.” Nathaniel and Felix clinked their coffee mugs together in a toast.