Chapter Eleven

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Sammy saw Dre raising his brows at his declaration.

“I think you’re stealing my line here.” His huge demon boyfriend leaned over the table to press a kiss on Sammy’s forehead. It was Friday, the middle of their two-week dream, and Dre had finally declared Sammy to be ready to meet Barion, Dre’s younger brother. With the time for their visit drawing closer, Sammy got more and more nervous, while his respect for Dre grew exponentially. He was a wreck from the prospect of just meeting one member of Dre’s family. How Dre had managed to face all of Sammy’s friends at once without biting his claws down to little stumps remained a mystery to Sammy.

“Mo grah thu, see it like this. You’re going to be in a mansion dating back to 1163 in the very area where Vlad Dracul lived and fought the Turks.” Dre pulled Sammy into his lap, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And I happen to know that Barion has this huge library with hundreds of old books, even though I doubt he has read many of them.”

Sammy’s eyes lit up at these words. “Hundreds you say?” He bit his lip. “But isn’t it terribly impolite to visit him for his books?”

“Mo grah thu, you’re a delight.” Dre kissed him deeply, which gave Sammy all kinds of ideas, none of which were feasible since they would be leaving—now, as a quick glance toward the clock told him.

“I think we have to go now, Dre.” Sammy swallowed hard.

Dre got up, not bothering to let go of Sammy, which Sammy appreciated greatly. He loved being held by Dre, his strength and warmth giving Sammy a feeling of belonging that he hadn’t felt since he’d lost his parents. His demon boyfriend sliced time and space with one of his lethal claws, and before Sammy could blink twice, they were standing in a stone hall with an impressive vaulted ceiling and a floor obviously made from antique wood. Still snuggled in Dre’s arms, Sammy looked around with huge eyes, drinking in the wonder of the mansion he was now in.

A polite cough behind Dre had them both turning around. Sammy knew immediately he was looking at a sibling of Dre’s. Apart from the fact that they were supposed to visit his brother, the family resemblance was striking. Barion was blue where Dre was red, but his tattoos were of the same silver hue, he was as tall as Dre and he had similar facial features.

“Hello, Barion. May I introduce you to Sammy?” Dre put Sammy on his feet while his brother approached them with a broad smile, showing all his gleaming teeth.

“Hello, Sammy. It’s so good to meet you. I’ve never seen Dre so happy. I’m so glad you’re putting up with him.” Barion grabbed Sammy’s hand and shook it violently.

“Hello, Barion. Nice to meet you too. And I’m not sure who is putting up with who. Dre is simply perfect.”

“Aww, young love. You two are so sweet. Come on. Dinner is ready.” Barion hadn’t let go of Sammy’s hand and was now dragging him toward a doorway to the left.

“You cooked?” Dre didn’t sound impressed, rather frightened if Sammy thought about it.

“Don’t worry, big bro, I didn’t do it myself. I learned my lesson, though I do want to emphasize that it wasn’t solely my fault. There was something wrong with the recipe.”

“Barion, we had to burn down the kitchen!”

“How was I supposed to know that sugar could explode?” Barion sounded defensive, while Dre just rolled his eyes.

“I have a friend you simply have to meet. Just promise me not to enter a kitchen with her.” Sammy smiled. He loved the playful banter between the brothers.

“So where did you get the food?” They had reached a dining room with a huge round wooden table and heavy wooden chairs with thick, lime-green upholstery. While Sammy was busy staring at the stag skull that was plastered with what appeared to be emeralds and rubies, Dre turned to his brother.

“I can’t tell you my sources, big bro. You should know that.”

“Barion, who made the food? I’m not going to let Sammy eat something when I don’t know where you got it.”

Barion made a face. “Fine, Mr. Overbearing. I went to Zenobia. Happy now?”

Sammy saw Dre nodding and used the short silence to ask Barion about the stag skull. “Are those real gems?” He gestured toward the thing on the wall. Barion grinned.

“Oh yes. I did that myself. I saw this piece by Damian Hirst, the human skull with the diamonds? Are you familiar with it?”

When Sammy nodded, Barion went on. “When I moved here, I found this bag of emerald and ruby splinters and I thought it would fit perfectly to put them on the stag then hang him in the dining room. Very bohemian.”

“It is.” Sammy nodded. It wasn’t something he would want to have in his own home, or Dre’s quaint little cottage, come to think of it, but it fit perfectly in this place. “I like the chairs.”

Barion puffed his chest. “Also my idea. They used to be a boring red, you know—that brocade red that screams set of The Tudors without Jonathan Rhys Meyers as a counterweight to the feeling of moth balls. Don’t get me wrong, I like preserving the old, and I did a really good job with this building, even if I do say so myself, but when the old gets too boring or suffocating, it has to be dragged into the twenty-first century—kicking and screaming if necessary.”

“Did you just quote Lord Vetinari from Discworld, albeit in a roundabout fashion?” When Sammy saw the confused look on Barion’s face, he had his answer.

“I told you that Barion isn’t much of a reader. His forte is gaming—and TV series. He’s kind of an addict.” Dre winked at his brother.

“Hence The Tudors reference.” Sammy grinned. “I have to admit that I’m not an expert in TV series, but I think I know my way around.”

Barion pulled out one of the lime-green chairs. Sammy sat down and admired the perfectly set table with two different glasses, rows of gleaming cutlery and plates of the finest, pure-white china. “What’s your favorite series then?”

Sammy thought about it while Dre sat down next to him and Barion vanished through yet another door into what had to be the kitchen. When Barion came back with a bowl of steaming Spaghetti Vongole and a small pot with what seemed to be the same green spread they had had on their first date in Rome, Sammy smiled happily while Dre handed him a piece of fresh ciabatta.

“So, your favorite series?” Barion poured them water and red wine before he sat down. Sammy started putting some of the spread on his ciabatta.

“There are a few, actually. My favorite feel-good series is Gilmore Girls.”

Barion laughed. “I’m with you on that one. You gotta love women who watch an automatic vacuum at the same time in two different places. Something we should try sometime, big bro.”

Dre made a face. “Is there a deeper meaning to it or is it just the sheer craziness of the idea itself?”

“Hey, I like that idea.” Sammy glared at Dre. “Don’t go dissing Lorelai and Rory. They rock!”

“Yeah, Sammy, show Dre who’s boss.” Barion grinned broadly while he took the spaghetti tongs and started serving them. “What other series do you like?”

“The Big Bang Theory. Sheldon is a riot. Buffy, The Vampire Slayer, but without the season with Glory. That just wasn’t my cup of tea.”

Barion shook his head. “I loved Buffy through seasons one to four. The rest I only watched because of Spike.”

“Oh yes, Spike. I remember your strange obsession with him.” Dre chuckled. Barion shot him a nasty look.

“Spike was great. That British accent paired with that platinum-blond hair and those cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass? I would have loved to get acquainted with him.”

“You mean you would have loved fucking him through the mattress, little brother.”

“Details, details.” Barion twirled some spaghetti with his fork. “What else, Sammy? So far, I want to praise you for your good taste.”

Sammy grinned. “Let’s hope it stays that way. American Gods. I loved the book and I can’t decide who’s sexier, Ian McShane or Ricky Whittle.”

“Is there something you want to tell me, mo grah thu?” Dre stole a mussel from Sammy’s plate. Sammy grinned and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Do not worry, my demon in shining red. None of them can hold a candle to you.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear, mo grah thu.”

“Bah, could you please stop with the sweetness? I’m trying to keep my meal down.” Barion’s voice was teasing, but when Sammy looked in his direction, he saw the pure longing in the demon’s eyes. His heart hurt for Barion, so he tried to distract him.

“I’ve told you my favorite series. What are yours?”

Barion shoved a fork of spaghetti into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I’m a bit of a swing watcher and a sucker for everything fantasy or historical. So Game of Thrones and The Shannara Chronicles are high on my list, as well as Dr. Who. I can’t wait to see what Jodie Whittaker is going to do with the role.”

“Yes, her taking over the role was quite the surprise.” Sammy nodded and saw Dre rolling his eyes. Dr. Who was so far one of the few things where they didn’t see eye-to-eye. Dre found the series terrible, while Sammy liked it well enough. And what would a relationship be without some friction here and there?

They finished the delicious meal with easy chatter about TV series, games and actors, and Sammy was getting completely relaxed around Barion. Meeting the family wasn’t as bad as he’d thought.

“Before we have our dessert, how about I give you a tour of the house? I’m very proud of it.” Barion sounded so eager, and Sammy couldn’t wait. All he had seen so far were the huge dining room and the hall leading to it.

Since it was closest, they first went into the kitchen, which was an impressive mixture of old and new. Barion had kept the old fireplace, the massive pipes and broad chimney, as well as the brick construction, and had it all equipped with modern appliances. It was beautiful in a very big way, which made Sammy grateful for Dre’s more modest taste. He couldn’t imagine cooking in a kitchen like that. They toured the entire house, with the library coming last, at Dre’s insistence. When they entered the huge two-story room, Sammy knew why. There was no way he would be leaving here anytime soon.

“Oh my God! It’s beautiful. Can I look around?”

Barion nodded with an amused twinkle in his eyes. “Of course. Feel free to explore. To give you some time, how about Dre and I go and get dessert while you have fun in here?”

Sammy looked at him wide-eyed. “You would leave me here alone?”

“Only if you want, mo grah thu. And definitely not for long. If you don’t feel safe, I can stay with you.”

“It’s not about me being safe. It’s just a lot of trust Barion puts into a complete stranger.”

“Hey, man, you’re my brother’s boyfriend. It’s fine. We won’t be gone long enough for you to steal anything.” Barion winked. “What do you like for dessert?”

The almost two weeks Sammy had spent with Dre had taught him to answer this question truthfully, because there was nothing Dre—and probably Barion—couldn’t get him. “I’d like that mousse au chocolat from the little café in Nimes where we went last Sunday. And the tartuffone from that Gelateria in Rome. You know, the one with the forty different flavors?”

Dre kissed him. “Done, mo grah thu. Have fun.” He turned to Barion. “You know the Gelateria, don’t you?”

Barion snorted. “I know all your hunting grounds, big bro. I’ll get the tartuffone. You go to Nimes. Let’s see who’s back first.” He sliced space and time and was gone in an instant.

“Cheater!” Dre roared and followed his brother. Sammy chuckled and shook his head. He had always wished for siblings, fantasizing about how wonderful his relationship with them would be. Seeing Barion and Dre interact was like all those fantasies had come true.

Sammy turned toward the rows and rows of books. This was heaven. He started wandering between the shelves, pulling out books at random, admiring their leather bindings and reveling in the familiar smell only matured books emanated. If there was an order to them, Sammy couldn’t find it. They were roughly in alphabetical order, sometimes apparently using the first letter of the title, then the author’s surname, only to switch to the first name. Occult books were mixed with romance novels, essays with guidebooks about gardening, astrology with cookbooks. Sammy itched to catalog them all and order them in a sensible way, but he withstood temptation. This was Barion’s library and he was only a guest. Before he could get too worked up, Barion returned, shortly followed by Dre. The bickering of the brothers lured Sammy from behind the shelves.

“You’re just a sore loser!” Dre was glaring at Barion, his fangs elongating. He had definitely grown as well. The shirt he was wearing was already ripping at the seams. Barion was not better, his claws digging into the package that Sammy hoped wasn’t holding his tartuffone—or mashed ice cream if the two demons didn’t stop.

“How can I be a loser when I won this round?” Barion was pointing one razor-sharp claw in Dre’s direction.

“You’re a sore loser because you can’t stand to lose and therefore resort to cheating to get your way, just like a toddler.”

Barion sneered. “Toddlers aren’t as good as me!”

“So you admit it! Ha!”

Sammy decided it was time to save his dessert. “Guys, stop! It doesn’t matter who won when you smash the goods. Now calm down, both of you, and let’s go back to the dining room and have our sweets. Please?”

Two pairs of glowing red eyes swung in his direction. If anybody had told Sammy only two weeks before that he would stand in the house of a demon, chiding two of them in order to save his food, he would have laughed his head off. But here he was, giving them his best stern look—which, he feared, wasn’t much—in hopes of calming the beasts.

Dre was the first to relent. “I’m sorry, mo grah thu. I didn’t mean to ruin your dessert. I was provoked.” He shot a nasty glare in Barion’s direction.

“It’s not my fault you’re getting slow in your old age.” Barion huffed but retracted his claws. “Come on. Let’s have dessert.”

They went back to the dining room, the tension slowly leaving the air between the brothers. By the time they all had their sweet treats in front of them, Barion and Dre were joking again. They enjoyed their food in relative silence, only broken by appreciative moans now and then until they were almost done. When there were only a few spoons of ice cream left on Barion’s plate, he looked at them with a determined gleam in his eyes.

“Let’s talk about the huge elephant in the room.”

Dre narrowed his eyes. “What elephant?”

Barion huffed. “Please, brother. Any idiot can see how close you and Sammy are. What I want to know is why haven’t you claimed him yet?” The challenge in Barion’s voice was clear, and if Sammy hadn’t seen the longing in his eyes before, he would have felt threatened. As it was, he understood why Barion was asking so blatantly. Sammy looked at Dre, saw the question in his eyes and nodded. It was okay with him for Dre to talk about it.

“I haven’t claimed Sammy yet because we gave ourselves a two-week period to live our dream. At the end of those two weeks, I’m going to give him my bite and hope he’s my mate. But we both agreed we wanted something beautiful to hang on to, should it not be the case.”

Barion made a face. “BS. First of all, if this isn’t a hidden mate-bond humming between you two, I’ll eat my tail. Second—”

“You don’t have a tail,” Dre interrupted matter-of-factly. Barion rolled his eyes at him. He sounded annoyed. “If I had a tail, I’d offer to eat it, but I wouldn’t have to, because you two are definitely mates. And second”—he held up his index finger, claw out to prevent Dre from interrupting again—“even if you aren’t, it doesn’t change the fact of how you feel about each other. Granted, you won’t have an eternity together, but still…” He looked at them so full of longing that Sammy immediately felt bad. “You’re good for each other. Any idiot can see that. Why not enjoy it while it lasts? You said yourself, Dre, that you’ve never felt like this. And you seem to be happy, too, Sammy. Embrace it. It’s more than many of us have.”

“That might be the case, but it’s still our decision, brother, and I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of it. By the way, this is the reason why I hesitated to bring Sammy here.” Dre sounded more exasperated than annoyed, which was probably a good thing. Barion shook his head, his eyes gleaming redder than the rubies on the stag. “Nothing’s ever sure. You know that as well as I do, Dre. The way I see it, you’re cowards, both of you. Stop deceiving yourselves and at least own it!”

Dre’s fangs started sliding down again, which caused Sammy to interfere. “You’re right, Barion. We are afraid. I’ve never loved anybody as much as I love Dre. The mere idea of him not being my forever chills me to the bone. I’m constantly torn between finally finding out and never wanting to know. Don’t you get it? Even if we make it work should I not be his mate, it would never be what it is at the moment, that blissful ignorance, the pure love untainted by the realities of the world. That’s what we’re clinging to. And since we’re both mature adults, we decided to put a limit on it.”

Dre slung his arm around Sammy’s shoulders, pulling him close. Only then did Sammy realize that he was shaking. It felt good to be comforted, to be held like he was the only thing in Dre’s world that mattered. Dre surely was the only thing that mattered to Sammy, especially in this moment.

“I’m sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Barion sounded a bit contrite. “It’s just that seeing you two together gives me so much hope for finding my own mate. I understand why you’re hesitant to find out, but from my point of view, you’re wasting the gift Fate has given you. Don’t be afraid. You were made for each other. Even if you should not be Dre’s mate, which I highly doubt, you will find a way and it will be perfect for you two. Staying in this limbo won’t get you anywhere.”

Sammy sighed and snuggled closer to Dre. “It’s okay, Barion. We know that as well.” He twisted his head to look at Dre. “Perhaps we should go home and talk about it?”

Dre nodded. “Seems like a good idea. Thank you, Barion, for the invitation. I’ll give you a call as soon as we know.”

“You’re not angry?” Barion sounded meek.

“No, brother, we’re not angry. I, for my part, am just not sure what to think.” Dre smiled a bit sadly.

Sammy touched Barion’s hand briefly. “It’s the same for me. We’ll talk soon, okay? Especially about the abysmal order you have to your library.” He winked.

Barion huffed in relief, and with a last wave goodbye, Dre brought Sammy back to his kitchen.