Three months pass.

Damien buys another apartment with another name, and we move across the city. It's close to Dante's in the Riverfront District, and as soon as we're settled, I invite Dante over and tell them everything that's happened to me since the night I walked out of their apartment.

It's obvious they're caught somewhere between dismay at my penchant for poor choices, and joy at the fact that I finally seem...happy.

It's a strange thing, but I realize that the last few months have been the happiest of my life--demon or mortal.

Damien's dreams don't trouble him any more, but rather than take up my old habits of soliciting strangers for their bad dreams, he suggests I try something new.

I volunteer at a home for seniors, and no one's surprised when a guy reading a novel aloud to a ninety-six-year-old falls asleep somewhere along the way. It takes a bit of trial and error, but eventually I find the ones who need me. It still hurts, and more than once I wake up crying, but at least I know I'm bringing some peace to what might be someone's final sleep.

And when I go home, Damien's waiting. Or at least, he is when he isn't working.

He's more than happy to take up the mantle of Damien Knight, architect extraordinaire, and soon finds himself busy with more than one high-profile project. His style is modern, minimalist, and all about light and air. It's happy and free and seems to strikes a deep chord in a world overburdened with too much of just about everything.

He's in high demand.

Then again, so am I--at least from him.

It seems like I spend about as much time in bed as out of it. He lays his claim as often as possible, sometimes at the most inopportune times.

Once, when I was on my back and he was deep inside me, lost in the slow push and pull of lazy pleasure, his phone rang. It was his top client, and to my horror, he answered it. Then he continued to fuck me with a casual smugness while discussing the ins and outs of the latest adjustments to the project. It turned me on so much I had to bite my own fist as I came so I didn't make a sound. Later I got him back, sucking him off while he was in the middle of a teleconference with a bunch of Chinese investors. I had to admire his stoicism, and in the end let him take me against the wall.

But it's more than sex.

I love the way he tries to cook me breakfast, and then takes me out for pancakes when he fails.

I love the way he notices what I like, from my favorite dessert to the kind of joke that makes me laugh.

I love his smile, and the strange miracle that I could be its cause.

And I love him. 

And we're happy.

But fate has a way of finding you, and all good things must come to an end. And so it is that one night, after a perfect dinner and a passable movie, fate catches up with us.

~xxx~

Like a lot of things, it starts with a stupid mistake.

I insist on seeing the comedy instead of the war drama, and Damien humors me. I've seen enough of war--even if it was just through the dreams of the men and women who actually lived it--and I'd rather laugh than cry any day.

The movie ends, and we're on our way home when I realize I left my phone--which he only bought me the day before--in the theater.

We turn back, and half a block later find ourselves face to face with a bunch of assholes too young to know any better. They're just kids, but their youth doesn't stop them from being dangerous monsters.

They see Damien's expensive clothes--and mine as well (I've let him buy me more things than I should)--and the fact that we're holding hands; and before I know it, things go to shit.

Insults are issued and returned; there's a flash of metal as a gun is drawn. I see the dark circle of its barrel pointed my way, and then the world erupts in blue fire.

The painfully young criminals flee in terror, and a moment later, other fires light the night.

And I recognize Yakketh and Maliel as they step from the flaming rift, fiery blades in hand.

~xxx~

"Dantalian," Yakketh drawls, mouth twisted in a sneer. "We knew you'd fuck up eventually. Although I don't think anyone thought it would be so soon." She laughs.

Maliel casts me a look. "Is this really it?" she scoffs. "The informant made him sound so impressive. He looks like something from a depressed angel's wet dream."

Yakketh coughs a laugh. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen, eh Sakariel? Though Dantalian always did enjoy the thrill of slumming it."

"Shut your mouth, bitch," Damien snarls, and I see the blade of blue fire form in his hand as he shoves me behind him.

"Is that any way to talk to a lady?" Yakketh says, head tilted to the side and mouth pursed in a mocking frown. "Well, we'll just have to teach you some manners."

She attacks in a flash of red fire, and I can't even follow exactly what happens blow for blow. Maliel stands back and watches with a look of mild interest as the blue and red blades clash and slash with rapid fury.

Damien gains the upper hand, and beats Yakketh back with a series of swift slashes that leave her gasping and barely managing to block his assault. Then Maliel shrugs and joins the fray.

I feel helpless. Damien's blue blade flashes with increasing rapidity as he blocks the dual assault, but it seems like he's losing ground.

They beat him back until he has nowhere else to go. The river is behind him, and I know he won't yield while I'm in danger.

He looks towards me and meets my eyes, and I see his lips form words.

Alex. Close your eyes.

I obey and see a flash of blue behind my eyelids. When I open them, I see something both disturbing and wonderful.

Damien has wings. They're leathery and black, and enormous. They stretch to either side of him like great shadows. From his head sprout dark, spiral horns. But when he looks at me, dark eyes tinged with pain and fear, I only see the man I love.

I give him a smile and nod, and his expression transforms with surprise. Then he smiles back, and I know that Maliel and Yakketh are in for a shock.

He turns his gaze on them, and they scream.

His blade flashes blue fire, and they fall back under an onslaught of blows that my eyes aren't quick enough to follow.

They leap beyond his reach, gasping.

"You...may have won this time...traitor..." Yakketh gasps. "But make no mistake. Azael is coming. And now he knows exactly how to find you."

Damien charges towards them, but even as his blade slashes the air where they stood, they are gone.

He stands for a moment, chest heaving, before turning towards me. I can't help stepping back as he draws near, and he stops, a look of pain on his face.

I draw a breath. I love him, no matter what he is.

Walking towards him, I wrap my arms around him and lay my head against his chest. When I look up, his wings and horns are gone, and his eyes are dark with an emotion I've only seen in his dreams.

 It's a terrible mix of love and despair.