Chapter 3 The Devil's Bargain

Unlike some wet ink, the days melted away, staying gray in the sky; the silence there was as of some truth. Eli tended his herbs, keeping his hands busy. His brain betrayed him constantly and always pulled him back to the barn where red eyes in the dark kissed him on the lips.

Amon never spoke too much throughout the day. He remained somewhere in the barn, at rest, healing, watching. But night controlled him. The moon took sun and silence was born.

Eli was that evening on the big wooden steps outside his small cottage watching the still grass move with the soft breeze. The book lay open on his lap, but not a single page had been turned for over an hour.

He heard the footsteps before he saw him.

Amon said as he joined him, "I'm just not used to being so... still."

Eli smiled but didn't look away from the horizon. "Stillness is not always a bad thing."

"To a person like me, it is," Amon said. "I start to feel when I'm still."

Eli glanced at him. "Is that really so bad?"

Amon matched his gaze. "When you've been taught to kill what you feel, yeah."

Again the wind brought the smell of smoke-not really from fire but from Amon himself. It hung in the air about him like a memory.

Eli settled the book down on the step. "You kissed me."

"I did."

"Why?"

"Because for a moment, I forgot who I was."

"And now you remember?"

Amon hesitated a little before speaking. "No. That's the problem. Everything else I forget when I'm with you."

Eli turned fully to face him. "Then forget. Just for a while."

"You really have no idea what you're offering," Amon said; his voice low and trembling; restraint.

"Then tell me."

Amon abruptly stood up and took a few steps away, then turned around.

"There's a war coming," he said. "I don't know when, but I can feel it. Heaven doesn't forgive. Hell doesn't forget. And somewhere in between, I am hunted."

Eli stiffened. "By who?"

"By the people I once called brothers. And lovers." Amon's face was leathered with pain. "They'll find me eventually. And when they do, anyone close to me... will burn."

Eli took a step forward. "Then let me burn with you."

Amon's breath caught. For just a moment, he looked broken and sacred all at once.

"You don't mean that."

"I do."

"I've killed people, Eli."

"But you saved me."

"I've lied. I've seduced. I've destroyed cities in rage."

"You made tea with me yesterday."

Amon made an almost laugh-sob. He turned away.

"You want something from me," he said. "Say it. You didn't bring me into your home just to fix my wounds."

Eli looked at him, wanting the truth.

Amon stepped in closer, shadows wrapping his bare skin like tendrils.

"The truth," he whispered. "Very well."

He reached into the air and made a slow motion with his hand. The space shimmered, and something appeared-a silver flame suspended between his fingers.

"This," said Amon, "is the last spark of my divinity. My last ember. If I give it away... I become mortal. I become yours."

Eli's eyes widened. "Why would you do that?"

Amon looked deep through his soul. "Because I want to stop running. Because I want to feel again. And because... when I kissed you... it was the first time anything made sense."

He'd closed his fist around it, extinguishing the flame.

"But I can't give it away for free. It needs something in return."

"What?"

"A bond. A vow. Your body, your soul. One night. One truth. One surrender."

Eli's heart beat louder than the wind.

"This is your bargain?" he asked.

Amon nodded once. "Yes."

"Then I accept."

Amon looked shocked for the first time in his existence.

"You haven't even asked what it entails."

"I don't care," Eli said. "I trust you."

Amon moved closer; the heat rolled off him like waves-not painful but intoxicating as it seemed to pulse in the air-then reached out and placed two fingers under Eli's chin, tilting his face up.

"You are brave," Amon whispered. "Or foolish."

"Maybe both."

"I will show you things you have never felt," Amon said. "Pleasure. Pain. Memories not your own. I will take you to the edge of what you believe is possible."

Eli swallowed. "Then take me."

And Amon did that.

In the barn, the flames lit themselves. The walls, glowing, present trembling with silent energies, shimmered with gold-hay and Amon walked toward him as a god stripped naked.

"Tell me to stop," said Amon.

Eli shook his head. "I won't."

They met their mouths again-this time, it was different, desperate, starved. Amon kissed him as though claiming air after drowning. Eli kissed him that way, hands in his hair, bodies colliding like crashing stars.

Clothes fell away like ash.

Skin touched skin.

Amon's touch burned as if it bore fire but was rather emotion. Every move was a whisper, every sigh prayer. His hands learned every line of Eli's body like they were scribbling some ancient scripture. His lips mapped out devotion in kisses, in bites, in breathless pauses.

And when they were joined-properly joined-the barn itself sighed.

Time slowed down. Everything outside ceased to exist. There was no heaven. No hell. Just them.

Then Amon held him.

"I have given you my last spark," he said. "Do you feel it?"

Eli nodded breathlessly. "Yes."

"It will protect you now. No angel can strike you. No demon can possess you. You are... mine."

Eli curled into him, more secure than he had ever known. "And you?"

Amon smiled against his skin. "I am yours."