Chapter Four

Dre was nervous. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was no other explanation. Why else would he have changed his outfit three times already, still not satisfied with how he looked? He wanted to impress Sammy so badly that he almost didn’t recognize himself.

“Hey, big brother, why are you having a staring match with the mirror?”

Barion was leaning in the door to Dre’s bedroom. His brother had come over to his place when he’d heard about the date. Dre could understand. This was the first time in almost a hundred years that he was going on a date—and with a human to boot. After his last, disastrous attempt at a relationship, Dre had restricted himself to hookups, only to spare himself the pain of being cheated on. Why in the nine hells he’d thought trying to build a life with an incubus was a good idea, he couldn’t tell. Back then, he’d been so in lust that he’d had trouble remembering his own name. Only finding his so-called partner in bed with not one, but two other demons had finally opened his eyes. He’d tossed the horny fucker out on his hot ass and spent the next year licking his wounds. Like Barion, Dre yearned for a stable relationship with somebody special.

Looking at his brother, Dre could see that Barion was dying of curiosity about who had managed to get him to date again, but Dre had kept the information about Sammy and the details about the date vague. He loved his brother with all his heart, but he had no intention of giving him a chance to ruin the date with one of his well-meant interferences that always ended in chaos. He and Sammy needed some time alone before Dre would even think about introducing him to any family members.

“I’m not sure if I should wear this shirt or…” He tugged at the black silk shirt he was wearing while looking for the dark red one he had tried on before.

Barion shook his head. “If I wouldn’t know better, I’d say you’re actually nervous, Dre. And that can’t be. Can it?”

Dre didn’t answer. Admitting to himself that this date meant more to him than any date he’d ever had was one thing. Telling his little brother was probably not wise.

“You are nervous! Dre, the charmer, is nervous about going out with a human. Wait!” Barion furrowed his forehead and the silver patterns on his skin seemed to glow. Where Dre was red, Barion was blue, but they both had the silver marks that announced them as royalty. The patterns on the other demons were either black or—if they were warriors—bronze. “Could he be—?”

“Don’t even go there, Barion.”

“But, Dre, this is important!” Barion pouted, which looked ridiculous on a male his size.

“I said don’t go there. I’m having a date with a human I find interesting and whose scent I like. There’s no need to get all excited.”

“But—”

Dre shook his head. Barion was a romantic at heart and still dreamed of finding his fated mate one day. For demons, that was a bit more difficult than for other paranormals. Shifters recognized their mates by scent, as did vampires. Gargoyles needed to hear their mate’s voice to know, and phoenixes reacted to the aura. They all knew instantly who their mate was. For demons, it was different. For one, it was rare for a demon to find his or her true mate. There were only two dozen couples or ménages who’d had such luck. And a demon couldn’t tell immediately if somebody was their mate. They could find a person’s scent intriguing, like Dre did Sammy’s, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. It was a hint, nothing more. The only way Dre would know was when he bit Sammy during sex and his skin pattern developed on Sammy afterward. It was a sign that the body of the mate had undergone the necessary transformation to enable him or her to be a demon’s companion. Since that transformation was rumored to be painful, Dre was in no hurry to bite Sammy—not to mention that Sammy would probably appreciate being told about the possible implications of sleeping with a demon.

“Even if he is my mate, this is our very first date. I don’t want to overwhelm him. I just want him to have fun.”

“So, it could be.” The pure longing and hope in Barion’s voice kept Dre from lashing out at his brother. He understood how much his brother longed for a mate because he felt the same. He had just learned to deal with this yearning by ignoring it, which was unhealthy, as he well knew. But at least kept him from becoming depressed because his chances of finding his mate were slim to nonexistent. Sammy was like a ray of sunshine in a dark room, though Dre still refused to be too enthusiastic.

“Yes, it could be. But it’s too soon to tell, and I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’m going to enjoy this night, and if he wants to see me again, I’ll work from there.”

Barion sighed. “You’re right. Sorry, Dre. I didn’t mean to be a nag. It’s just—”

“I understand. Really. And you will find your mate, Barion. I’m sure. Now what do you think? The red or the black shirt?”

“The black one. Brings out your eyes,” Barion said after carefully assessing Dre. “You want to look your best when you take him to…?”

“Nice try, little brother. I’m so not going to tell you where I’m taking him. Perhaps afterward.”

“That’s just plain unfair. I promise that I won’t do anything. I just want to know!” Barion whined.

Dre shook his head. “I know you. You promise me now, but the moment I’m gone, you’ll start wondering, then you get impatient after five minutes of waiting. Then you can’t hold back anymore and you follow me, and we both know what’s going to happen then. No. I love you but no.”

Before Barion could voice his protest, Dre closed the last button on his shirt, took his wallet and cut open time and space to step into Sammy’s kitchen. Barion’s high-pitched whine was the last thing he heard before he was greeted by a shriek and the sound of breaking glass.

“Jesus, Dre!” Sammy stood next to the kitchen counter with one hand clutched to his chest. The sweet smell of strawberry marmalade permeated the air. Dre glanced over the kitchen table and saw shards of glass and a red smudge on the floor.

“I’m so sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Dre was contrite. What a terrible way to begin a date. Sammy rubbed his chest. He wore a white button-down with anthracite-color slacks that hugged his body just right. Dre couldn’t wait to see Sammy from behind. He shook his head to get rid of his inappropriate thoughts when he realized why Sammy was still rooted to the spot like a statue. He was barefoot. Dre rushed over to him, careful not to step into the marmalade, and lifted Sammy out of harm’s way. Before he let him down again, Sammy slung his arms around Dre’s neck, which felt so good that Dre almost toppled over.

“Hi, Dre. It’s good to see you.”

Sammy’s breathless voice was close to his ear. “And don’t worry about the marmalade. It’s store-bought and nowhere near as tasty as the one Mavis and Maribell make.”

Dre chuckled, pressing Sammy closer to his body, unwilling to let him go. “Would I be in trouble if it had been one of their glasses?”

The answer came without hesitation. “Yes. Wasting their cooking is a sacrilege. You’ll understand once you’ve tasted their cookies.”

“I can’t wait.”

Sammy bent his torso back far enough to look into Dre’s eyes. Their lips were so close that Dre thought he could feel the heat coming from Sammy. They both moved forward as if somebody was pulling invisible strings until their lips met in a chaste kiss that sent shudders down Dre’s spine. Sammy gripped Dre’s shoulders like a vise. He was panting.

“Hello, Dre.”

“I think you already said that.”

“Did I?”

“To be honest, I can’t remember.”

Silence fell around them while they kept on staring at each other. Sammy’s weight felt pleasant in Dre’s arms, and he knew he would never tire of his differently colored eyes. The one with the brown iris had flecks of gold that reminded Dre of amber. The blue one was not really blue on closer inspection, but a mixture of gray, a very light blue—like the sky in spring—and some faded green dots. Fascinating and gorgeous.

“I think you can let me down now.”

Dre didn’t like that idea, but he did as Sammy asked. Once Sammy’s feet touched the floor again, he went for the kitchen door.

“Just let me get some shoes. Then I’m going to clean up this mess and we can leave.”

Dre shook his head. “I’ve got a better idea. How about you get ready for our date while I clean up the mess, since I’m responsible for it—more or less.”

Sammy looked at the mix of glittering shards and sticky red mass on the floor then back up to Dre.

“If you insist.”

Dre grinned. “I insist. Now get your sexy ass out of here so I can impress you with my cleaning skills.”

“You think my ass is sexy?”

Sammy sounded more incredulous than teasing, which told Dre he wasn’t used to getting compliments. Well, Dre could definitely remedy that.

“Oh yes. Very sexy. It’s one of the reasons I asked you on a date.” He waggled his eyebrows for emphasis.

Sammy opened his eyes wide and clutched his chest in mock consternation.

“You only want me for my body!”

“I see we understand each other.”

They both started laughing and Sammy turned back to the door. “No magic to clean up!”

Dre huffed. “Don’t worry. A demon’s magic is better suited to create a mess than to clean it up—though the color would fit.”

Sammy gasped. “Dre!”

“Just kidding. Where do you keep your cleaning utensils?”

“Under the sink. I won’t take long.”

The slight frown on Sammy’s forehead was too cute.

“Don’t worry, Sammy. I got this.”

“If you say so.”

With one last glance, Sammy vanished through the door. Dre went to the sink to retrieve a cloth and some detergent. Careful to not get his clothes dirty, he bent down and started swiping up the marmalade and glass shards. The bigger ones he collected to go into the trash can, the smaller ones he washed down with the marmalade in the sink. He was just giving the floor one last swipe when Sammy returned with nice black boots and a light blue V-neck pullover to complete his outfit. He looked absolutely stunning.

“Wow, Sammy, you’re so beautiful.” Dre spoke with absolute conviction and the blush on Sammy’s cheeks was the sweetest reward. “You’re going to need a warm jacket. Even though it’s pretty warm in Rome, the temperatures still drop during the night.”

“Wait a moment and I’ll get my coat.”

Sammy bounced out of the kitchen again. Dre used the time to clean the cloth and hang it over the tap on the sink. Sammy rushed back in, now with a coat with a white and dark blue herringbone pattern dangling from his left arm.

“I’m so excited, Dre! Just to warn you, I’ve read up on all the trivia about Rome, and I so want to see the Colosseum.” Sammy paused when he stood right in front of Dre, his two-colored eyes glinting happily. “Thank you for taking me, Dre.”

Dre put his arm around Sammy’s slim waist. He wasn’t entirely sure where they stood regarding their relationship but he liked touching Sammy, and Sammy seemed to be on board if the embrace when he’d arrived had been any indication. Still, Dre decided to not rush things. His lips grazed Sammy’s hair in a brief, chaste kiss.

“Thank you for agreeing to go with me.” He leaned back a bit to look at Sammy. “And just for the record, I read up on Rome as well. We can have a little match about who knows more.”

“Geez, competitive much? I like it. Challenge accepted.”

They grinned at each other like madmen.

“So, what did you plan for tonight? Or is that a secret?”

Dre pulled Sammy closer again, enjoying how well the young man fit against his side. “No. We’ll start at this little restaurant I know. After we have dinner, we’ll take a stroll through the historic parts of Rome, get some gelato for dessert and see what tickles our interest. Are you a church kind of guy?”

Sammy shook his head. “No, not really. I mean, I do appreciate the art and everything, but what fascinates me most are the antic parts—the Colosseum, the Catacombs, the Forum Romanum.”

“Splendid. A man after my own heart. This is going to be great. Now hold on.”

Dre loved how tightly Sammy clung to him while he let one of his claws slide out to cut space and time. Traveling like this was second nature to him, but seeing how Sammy reacted to the tug when the seam opened, followed by being sucked into the darkness of nothing then being spit out at the destination, was highly entertaining. One day soon he would take Sammy hopping around the world.

“Wow, this is so surreal.” Sammy looked around the small blind alley where they had reappeared. “It’s nothing like traveling with the Tardis or like Stargate. It’s much quicker and with less light effects. Why’s there no sound? And are we really in Rome?”

Dre snickered. “No, it’s nothing like Dr. Who or Stargate, but then again, we’re not using wormholes and I don’t have a multifunction screwdriver. But I think it would be possible to add some light effects, if you want to. It’s all magic, after all. And yes, we’re really in Rome. To be precise, we’re in a little alleyway off Via Panisperna on Monti, which is just above the Roman Forum. We’re going to have dinner here.”

Dre held out his arm and Sammy took it without hesitation. The sun was about to set and the air was still pleasantly warm. They went out of the alleyway and around the corner of the brick building with the fading paint to the forefront, where a small blackboard sign announced that the restaurant was open. Dre held the door for Sammy as they entered the narrow hall with framed posters of old films hanging on the walls. Sammy tugged on Dre’s shirt.

“Look, Dre! La Dolce Vita!” He pointed to one of the posters with Marcello Mastroianni and Anita Eckberg. “Oh, and it’s signed!” Sammy stared at the poster with wide eyes. Dre smiled and let him look his fill before he gently tugged him toward the door that would lead them into the restaurant. It wasn’t big—only eleven tables and a small bar in one of the corners. Cobblestones made the floor, as if the room were outside on a piazza, and the ceiling was vaulted, hinting at the age of the building. The restaurant was empty because Italians tended to eat rather late in the evening. At the other side of the room, a door leading to the kitchen opened. Dre smiled when he saw Zenobia, the current matriarch and owner of the restaurant, make her way toward them. He’d known her since the day she was born, and seeing her now, over seventy years later, was always bittersweet for Dre. The woman whose hair had once been as black as a raven’s wing stretched out her hands to touch both Dre and Sammy.

“Dresalantion! How nice of you to come by. And you brought a guest?” Zenobia looked at Sammy. Dre had no doubt she already knew who his date was, but he played along.

“Zenobia, this is Sammy, my date. Sammy, this is Zenobia, the owner of this place and an old friend of mine.”

Sammy took Zenobia’s hand tentatively. His eyes went wide with shock when the old woman reached up, grabbed his nape and lowered his head to her meager height of barely five foot one. Her lips came close to Sammy’s ear and Dre felt a surge of irrational jealousy. With his demon hearing—which wasn’t as good as shifter or vampire hearing, but still way better than that of humans—he picked up what Zenobia whispered.

“Do not despair, mio piccolo passero, because hearts can be healed.”

She pressed a kiss to Sammy’s cheek, threw Dre a mischievous glance and took both their hands. “Follow me, piccioncini. I have the perfect table for you.”

Zenobia led them to a small table for two in a corner that was partly obscured by one of the columns that held the ceiling. After Dre had seated Sammy, Zenobia clapped her hands. “Food will come.” With that, she turned around, her black skirt billowing around her with a sound like a thousand bats taking flight. She was gone before either of them could utter a word. Sammy cleared his throat.

“I guess there’s no menu?”

Dre shook his head. “No, never. The restaurant has no name, either. But the food is delicious.”

Sammy smiled. If Zenobia’s cryptic words had in any way flustered him, he didn’t show it. “So, on a scale from one to ten, how paranormal is she?”

Dre chuckled, delighted by Sammy’s wit. “What gave her away?”

“She knows your name.” Sammy lifted his thumb. “She knew who I was. No, don’t try to deny it. I know the signs.” He lifted his index finger. “You heard what she said to me.” His middle finger came up. “And lastly, she gives this crazy vibe I have come to associate with non-human beings.” Four fingers waggled in front of Dre and he had to suppress the urge to grab Sammy’s hand and kiss them, one after the other.

“Wow, I forgot I’m with an expert.” Dre laughed. “You’re right, of course. Zenobia comes from a long line of priestesses. She’s human, but one with some very special talents.”

“A witch?” Sammy looked suspicious. Since he was used to the company of witches, Dre could understand his reaction. Witches weren’t always good news. They could be downright nasty if they wanted to, so he hastened to reassure Sammy.

“No, although it’s similar. She’s a high priestess to the mother goddess, who goes by many names—Gaia, Hecate, Morrigan, Danu, Isis. The list is long, as you know. Zenobia and her family have served the goddess in an unbroken line since before the first pyramids were built.”

Dre couldn’t help it. He loved how Sammy hung on his every word.

“If this is the kind of knowledge you’re going to share tonight, then you’ve already won our challenge. This is fascinating. How long have you known them?”

“Zenobia’s family? For about four hundred years. I met her ancestor Paxe when I first came to Rome. She already had the restaurant then, and the food was just as good.”

Sammy raised a brow. “You’re kind of an uber-regular, aren’t you?”

Dre chuckled. “You could say that.”

Before Sammy could open his mouth again, a younger version of Zenobia approached their table with a carafe of wine and a jug of water. She smiled broadly at them.

“Good evening, Dresalantion, Sammy. I hope you enjoy your meal here.”

The young woman put two clay mugs in front of each of them, filled two with water and two with the dark red wine before she bent slightly forward to ignite the thin white candle between them by blowing on it.

“Thank you, Aulina.”

“My pleasure.” She winked at them and left.

“That was Aulina, Zenobia’s granddaughter.”

“Beauty seems to run in that family.”

“Not only beauty, as you’ve seen.”

Dre picked up his clay mug with the wine. “To a wonderful date in the eternal city.”

Sammy clinked his mug against Dre’s. “Cheers.”

They took a sip of their wine and Sammy’s eyes widened. “This is good.”

“Oh yeah. They know how to make good wine.” Dre looked around before he leaned over the table, closer to Sammy, who had a curious glint in his eyes. “Rumor has it that the wine the Pope drinks during mass on Easter and Christmas comes from here as well.”

Sammy’s grin was so wide that Dre feared it would split his face in half.

“Stop giving the boy weird ideas.” Zenobia had approached the table without them noticing her. She put plates in front of them, a basket with bruschetta slices and a small pot with a greenish spread. “All wine consumed during service is the wine. Everybody knows that.” She patted Sammy’s hand. “Enjoy your meal.”

Dre and Sammy each got a slice of bread, which was still warm, covered it with the spread and took a bite. Sammy moaned.

“Mm-m. So good. What’s in it?”

Dre licked his lips. The food was good, but Sammy’s groans were even better.

“It’s a mixture of ricotta cheese, olive oil, basil and garlic. One of my favorites.”

“I can see why. I could bathe in this stuff.” Sammy took another bite, making appreciative noises in the back of his throat that had Dre’s libido burning. It got worse when Zenobia brought them the next course, linguine with artichokes and a lemon sauce that had Sammy moaning like somebody was licking his body from head to toe. Apparently, Sammy loved food. His reaction to the main course, saltimbocca romana with young potatoes, had Dre’s cock straining against the zipper of his jeans, and after dessert, a panna cotta with strawberry and raspberry sauce, Dre knew he had made the right decision by bringing Sammy there. When they rose to leave, Zenobia took their hands again, murmuring something in a language they didn’t understand. Once they were out of the door, Sammy looked at him.

“What was that?”

“A blessing. Zenobia likes you a lot. You’re the first date I’ve brought here that she served personally.”

Sammy halted so abruptly that it took Dre several steps before he realized his date was no longer at his side. With a questioning look, he turned around.

“You’ve brought others here?”

The drama in Sammy’s voice might have alarmed Dre if it hadn’t been for the mischievous glint in his eyes. He approached Sammy, slung his arms around his waist and pulled him close. “I hate to tell you that, mo grah thu, but you’re the worst actor I’ve ever met.”

Sammy leaned his upper body back to look into Dre’s eyes. A faint blush tinged his cheeks, making Dre want to devour him right there on the street.

“I’m sorry. It’s just— You’re making me so nervous and I’m trying hard not to start with the verbal diarrhea, which isn’t working so well, considering how you’re looking at me right now. I want this to work so bad, because this is my first date ever and I’m wildly attracted to you and you probably don’t want to go out with me ever again.”

There was a wet sheen to Sammy’s eyes now, a sheen Dre wanted gone. Slowly, he lifted his right hand and caressed Sammy’s cheek. Sammy closed his eyes at the contact, whimpering softly. “Sammy, I don’t want you to censor yourself. I already told you I’m a sucker for all kinds of knowledge myself, the geekier, the better. And I’m nervous, too. This is my first date in over a hundred years. My last relationship was terrible and ended in serious heartbreak on my side. So, as you can see, I carry my own baggage. And just for the record, I’m wildly attracted to you as well.”

A tentative smile rose on Sammy’s face. “You think we could work?”

The longing in Sammy’s voice tore at Dre’s heart, because it was so similar to his own. “Yes, mo grah thu, I think we could definitely work.”

“What does ‘mo grah thu’ mean?”

Dre smiled down at Sammy. “It’s an endearment, meaning ‘my love’.”

“Oh.” The blush on Sammy’s cheeks deepened, then he grinned. “Mavis and Maribell are probably going to kill me, but I’m really enjoying my date with a demon.”

Dre chuckled. “And it has just started.”

He slung his arm around Sammy’s shoulder and led him down the Monti toward the Roman Forum.