Darkest Before the Dawn (male/male)

Felix

After I made sure my house was appropriate looking, and I along with it, I finally called Marigold. If my heart functioned in a typical way, it would have been pounding. I never confronted Marigold—she was arguably my best friend, the first one I’ve had since I was a human. “Marigold,” I responded when she picked up after four calls. She must have known I’d be calling upset.

“Can you please call me Goldie? You always sound so angry when you use my whole name,” she begged, giving an airy laugh. She knew she was in trouble.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t angry,” I chided, falling back onto my couch. “I know what you’re trying to do, and I want you to stop. You could have paired up with Mew and be just fine.”

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m trying to be a good friend to you and make sure you weren’t stuck with a woman who likes to psychologically torment you. If you read any further into that, then that’s on you.” The TV in the background was loud, playing something about forensics.

“No, you’re trying to get Mew and I alone together, and it’s irritating. You need to stop. My personal feelings towards him shouldn’t jeopardize this investigation.” Even though the idea of driving alone with Mew for hours on end sounded magnificent and made me want to scream to get all of the overwhelming feelings out.

“It won’t hurt the investigation. I’m keeping an eye on Madeline while she’s at this meeting, and you and Barty get to deal with, frankly, the more dangerous issue. I thought this through. This wasn’t just something Cadence and I drunkenly came up with last week.” She hesitated, and I knew she had her finger up on her end, as if to stop me from commenting, knowing full and well that she and Cadence enjoyed scheming when they were together. “This is actually very largely Cadence’s idea, anyway. She said she likes the thought of you two together since you would be the first person he’s dated in a while that she actually likes.”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out, trying to think of a retort to that. “Just let me go at my own pace. He’s the first person I’ve been genuinely interested in for quite some time, and I’d rather take it slow and get him to actually like me in return.” My leg started bouncing, the first time saying all of this out loud to anyone, and it was to the best friend of the guy I liked. “I don’t want this to all blow up in my face and make him hate me or anything. I think I’ve made progress with him, but I’m so afraid of it backsliding to the point of him not being able to stand me anymore.”

“I think you’re past that point, though. Three weeks ago, he would have had a hissy fit about being on the same team as you and having to do this, and now he’s in agreement that it’s for the best. He just had to meet someone he dislikes more than you, that’s all.” She said it so lightly, making me laugh.

“He literally told me, ‘an enemy of an enemy is my friend’, Goldie. And don’t you dare tell him I told you that because he would kill me."

Marigold's laughter put me at ease, a sunbeam in a dark room.

Through my window, headlights flashed in the house, and I chewed on my lower lip, knowing I had to leave my bit of safety with Goldie and pursue a place of uncertainty with Mew tonight. “He’s here, so I have to go. Be safe on your plane back tonight, and text me when you land and start heading to Atlanta.”

“Good luck, Fee,” she offered in a singsong voice before hanging up.

I had no need to breathe, but still sucked in a deep breath when I heard footsteps coming to the door, my lungs aching from the sudden usage. This was just a normal operation with a coworker, something I’ve done dozens of times. I literally trained for this when I was a human. It didn’t stop my body from tensing when I opened the door to find Mew standing there, hair a mess, black jacket thrown on over an Atlanta Hawks T-shirt, and a duffel bag on his shoulder.

He was beautiful.

“Nice cabin,” he said absently, stepping into the house, head swiveling to check everything out. “That’s a sick fireplace. Don’t ever let Cadence see it because then she’ll want to tear a wall down to have one, and I sure as shit ain’t doing that. And where the hell did you find a couch in that shade of red?” He crossed my threshold to run his fingers along the fabric of my couch. “This would look great in our living room.”

“It’s, uh, custom made by some furniture store in Wisconsin. I’ve had it for a while.” The door was still open, and I still hadn’t moved. He whooshed in here like a mini cyclone, whirling around the living room to look at all of my stuff, commenting positively on it all as if he hadn’t expected me to have a real home or hobbies. I realized that he probably didn’t think I had anything interesting going on in my life. “Would you like something to drink before we leave? I keep bottle water on hand for human guests.”

“Oh, nah, I’m good. I had an energy drink on the way here, so I’m doing okay. On that note, bathroom?” When I indicated the spare bedroom by the kitchen, he dropped his bag behind the couch and drifted off to the other room.

“Hades, what just happened?” I asked my cat softly, who had barely moved from his cat bed. The duffel bag had also brought up something I hadn’t thought of – packing. This was sure to be an overnight thing, nothing we could solve in a handful of hours, yet I had nothing packed. Did this mean we’d be staying in a hotel together again? Alone? My ears felt warm. Pushing it to the back of my mind, I darted upstairs, yanking clothing off of hangers and out of drawers, adding it to my pre-packed travel bag that contained my bathroom supplies. A cardigan made its way in, knowing he preferred them on me.

When I finally came back downstairs, I found Mew kneeling on the floor, hand brushing over Hades, a gentleness washed over the demon’s face. “That’s Hades,” I said softly, not wanting to scare either one of them, while also wishing we weren’t having to leave and beat the sunrise. “Named after the Greek god—”

“Of the Underworld, yeah.” He was speaking tenderly so he didn’t spook the cat. “I love black cats. Connie and Skippy just fell into our laps, or else I would have gotten a black cat.” Standing to his full height, he drew his lips into a line of discontent, staring longingly at Hades. “I guess we should go. Are you ready?”

I patted my suitcase and nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be. We’ll take my car so I can drive, and you can sleep.” I rubbed my fingers together, searching for a way to apologize to him for getting him out of the house after he had already settled in for the night. “Sorry Marigold wanted us to go tonight. I know you were tired.”

“Don’t worry about it. If it means getting this done faster to make sure no more demons are killed, I can sacrifice some sleep.” Still, as he said that, he was talking around a yawn, heading to my front door. “Bye, Hades.”

We plodded through the darkness out to my car, putting our luggage in my backseat. Mew was kind enough to hold in his comments until we were both seated and buckled in, a trace of a smile on his lips. “You drive a C-RV?”

“What’s wrong with my car?” I sputtered. “I needed something to drive through the woods, and this had great reviews online.” Was this embarrassment I was feeling?

“No, nothing is wrong with it, per se,” he mused, feeling like I was about to be lured into a trap while he curled himself up in his passenger seat. “I just didn’t realize you’re a mother of three who has a wine problem.”

I wanted to slap him in the playful way I did with his sister and Marigold. “That’s rather specific.”

That only made his smile broaden more as he pulled his hood up over his snowy hair. “I’ve met a lot of people in my life.”

“Clearly.” I shimmied my phone out of my back pocket, pulling up my music playlists. I had a ton to pick from, all depending on my moods or who was listening with me. With Marigold, I knew I was safe with music from the 60s and 70s, as well as Disney music. Cadence preferred lo-fi, R&B, and hip-hop, though she had lately been trying to get me into 90s club music that had a resurgence in the recent years. With Mew, I couldn’t place it. I went with the Shuffle option, letting the phone pick for me since I was clearly having a harder time with this than I thought I would. It’s music, yet I was panicking.

A steady drumbeat picked up, followed by an electric guitar, getting Mew to perk up some. “Fall Out Boy?” he asked gently, looking between the radio display and my face, mirroring how confused I felt.

“Yes,” I choked out. This must have been a bad choice. “I can change it to something else if you’d like.” Without waiting for a response, I hit the Next button.

From the corner of my eye, I spotted him biting hard on his lip, shoulders shaking some from contained laughter. “Are you a fucking angst queen from the early 2000s?” he teased, both of our eyes locked on my radio. My Chemical Romance.

I couldn’t help the pout as I finally pulled out of my parking spot. “You’re being incredibly mean about my music tastes,” I chided.

“No hate, man, I’m just confused. It’s not at all what I was expecting from you.” He readjusted himself so that he was sitting properly now, the seat having been too small to contain his tall, compacted body.

“What music do you think I should be listening to, then?” I sneered, gritting my teeth.

“I dunno, something old, I guess. Don’t vampires usually listen to symphonies and operas and shit like that?”

“First of all, that’s stereotyping me. Secondly, how old do you think I am?” I knew it had been bothering him for a few weeks, ever since it had been brought up the night we brought in Madeline.

“Maybe like three or four hundred years old or something? You act like an old man.”

I shrieked, slapping a hand over my mouth, staring wide-eyed out of the windshield. A blend of glee and chagrin filled my heart, both at how amusing it was for him thinking I was old, but also, damn, rude. “I was born in 1919! I’m barely a century old!”

He must have been horrified, judging by his expression and how he tried to shrink against the car door. “You’re joking.”

“No, seriously. Ask. . .well, literally anyone at work. You’re the only person who hasn’t asked me so far.” I sounded more pained than I was wanting to let on.

He didn’t notice. “That makes me older than you. Like way older. I’m pushing four-hundred-and-fifty.”

My hand was back over my mouth, preventing the laughter from coming out. I had a crush on the Crypt Keeper, apparently. “Then I should be asking you how you know these bands. Old man.”

“I’m going to kick your ass when you park this car,” he grumbled, followed by a yawn that he tried covering with one of his hands.

“You barely have the energy to stay awake, let alone beat me up. Go to sleep. We’ll be in Atlanta by about 3:30. You’ll need your energy.” That, and I wanted to see how relaxed he could get when he fell asleep, when all of the stress and worry could finally leave his handsome face. I turned down the volume in the car for him, quieting the intro to “3005”.

“Wake me if you need me,” he sighed, adjusting the chair so that it was leaned back, his hood up, eyes sliding close. It wasn’t too long after that when his breathing steadied out into a deep rhythm, arms crossed over his chest, placidity settled on his face. The car filled quickly with the fragrance of coffee and vanilla, clouding my head some, leading me to the temptation of thinking of waking up to that every evening. Waking up to him and his smell and those strong arms.

My mouth watered. I had to put a stop to the useless thoughts and refocus on the task at hand. Searching for Adrianna and Layla were my top priority, preventing them from harming another demon. We were going to find them before they made it to Central Georgia.

But why there? If the plan was to expand down into Atlanta, why were they still pushing into other parts of Georgia? That piece bothered me. A chill inched up my spine at the idea of them going to Savannah with Mew and Cadence.

Another thing that was irritating me was that they were too precise with where demons were located, like they had their own access to the census. It made me consider a mole on Mazerene, which would have to be rooted out if so. It may have been vampires scouting the areas to locate demons, but I hated not knowing for sure.

Mew muttering in his sleep pulled me from the thought, the Velvet Underground thrumming through the speakers to hide it some. I didn’t take Mew for someone to talk in his sleep, but it made my heart melt.

We passed the final exit for Dublin, Mew shifting more in his sleep until he drew in a heavy breath and released a whining groan. He must have forgotten who he was with because his eyes flung open when I thought I was laughing quietly enough to myself at how adorable it was. “Good morning,” I said to him.

“Yo,” he mumbled, readjusting so that he was sitting up straight again. “Where are we?”

“Just passed Dublin. We’re less than two hours out, so if you want to get more sleep, you can.”

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. “Nah. We’ll have to be in a hotel during the day for you, anyway, so I’ll get on your sleep schedule for now.” He sighed, then twisted his body so that he could reach around to his duffel bag. His body was close to mine, enough to feel the radiating warmth, his shirt raised slightly to show a golden sliver of skin. The want to touch him returned quickly. “Thank Lucifer for energy drinks.” The smell of berry filled the car, pushing aside his scent. He had a few sips before putting his eyes on me, making me hyperaware of his presence. “I think it’s time for me to ask you an invasive question.”

“That’s fair since I asked you about your magic a few days ago.” Except my walls were immediately raised, wanting to shut out anything he wanted to know about me so that he didn’t fall back into his dislike of me. We had made progress. I hated to jeopardize it.

“You said you had experience with espionage when we went to that meeting. Were you joking about that or what?”

When I had said that the other night, I had mentioned it with the same intent as I had with my age: I knew it would eat at him to make him curious about me. But now that he was asking, I was wondering if it was worth delving into that past of mine, given how I had accidentally let myself feel nostalgic these past few days. Still, I fought back a smile. “I’ve worked as a spy before, for about three years.” I turned down Stevie Nicks’ voice while Mew drew up one leg to wrap an arm around it. “When I was a kid, I grew up in Europe. Born in Sussex, then traveled with my parents. My mom was an Irish artist who painted European country sides, so we’d visit these little rural areas around Western Europe, like France, Germany, Spain, things like that.”

Images of my parents flashed in my head momentarily, all those years of us staying in different cottages along the Seine and in wine country, finding a little cabin for rent in the Black Forest of Germany. I felt like I had been punched in my gut, remembering everything so clearly. “My dad was a Swiss botanist, so this let him study different flora in Europe. It also let me learn a bunch of different languages. I could speak three languages by the time I was six, then seven languages at ten. I even went to the University of Venice to get a degree in linguistics and modern cultures of the world.”

“What do you speak?” he asked, those golden eyes never straying from me. In the dark, they had a glow to them that I hadn't noticed before.

“Latin, French, Spanish, German, Italian, Portuguese, and English. I'm learning Arabic currently, specifically the Northern dialect, and I speak a little Mandarin and Cantonese because of Madeline but definitely not fluent.” She had taught me enough curse words and how to survive in parts of China. That’s about it.

He sighed. “You're too fucking smart. Latin is my first language because everyone in Hell is taught it from birth, even though it's a dead language. I speak some Spanish and French, too, but not fluently.”

“Guess I can’t curse at you in any of those, then,” I muttered, cracking a smile.

“So how does this make you a spy?” He didn’t sound impatient, rather genuinely interested. He had leaned towards me, even. If I would have known this could have lured him in, I would have given him my whole life story months ago.

“Be patient, Young Padawan.” I immediately held up a finger, his mouth flying open to ask another question. Marigold had told me before that he was a bigger nerd than he would let on, which had only gotten me more interested in him because of a mutual love of comics and sci-fi. It could wait. “Different conversation. I’m also a big comic nerd but different conversation. During college. . ." I winced. "Well, after I graduated, and I mean like months after, World War II started. I was 20 by then, and I was already being eyed by different agencies for my language expertise."

“Hang on, were you a vampire by this point?”

“Not yet. That happened later.” My neck stung some, although I knew it was just at the mention of it. “So when I was 23, I became a spy for the British Armed Forces as part of the SOE. My code name was Botanist because of my dad's career. And I was a damn good spy. Until I got caught. Then, I was not a good spy.”

His laugh made me grin, filling me with a warmth that was almost unfamiliar to me. Sighing and leaning his head against the headrest, he let his smile drop. “How’d you get caught, idiot?”

“I was out during curfew on my way to a rendezvous point. I knew it was dangerous, but we liked doing our meetings at night so that we could hide easier in the darkness. My meeting location was about a mile outside of town, ironically near a place my family would spend some winters. I was in France during this time, and two SS officers found me.”

“Did they find out you were a spy?”

I shook my head. “I would’ve been shot in the head or brought in for torture if they knew that. I initially told them that I was just a civilian who lost my dog and was out looking for him, but they didn’t believe that someone would be stupid enough to break the law for a pet. So I lied and told them that I was actually part of the French Communist Party and was coming home from a meeting that had already disbanded so that they didn’t have me take them to the meeting. They arrested me then and held me until morning to ship me off to an internment camp. I spent a year in Gurs, then about nine months in Aincourt before the Americans freed us. While I was in a hospital meant for POWs, I met a nurse who helped take care of me.”

Something in my voice must have tipped him off that this was still hard for me to talk about. It wasn’t as horrific as what others experienced, but there was still some trauma there. Small spaces made my stomach twist. Being around too many people caused my head to swirl. “You don’t have to keep going,” Mew muttered, trying to save me from myself.

“It’s fine. I’m mostly over it.” I hesitated, thinking if that was true or not. “But the nurse, Alice, earned my trust. After being released from the hospital, I stayed with her for a bit so that I could get healthier before going back home.” Part of me wanted so badly to tell him everything. It wasn’t the time right now, however. “Alice introduced me to Simone, and Simone was the one who turned me.” Rubbing the side of my neck, I was temporarily launched back to that time in 1946, when every strand of trust and hope left my body as Simone took my blood.

Mew was quiet for a minute. “Have you seen Simone since?”

“Not really. I moved to America in the 50s, and I think she’s stayed in Europe. I think about her sometimes, as every vampire does with their maker, but never enough to send me back to Europe. Too many memories, you know?” A silence arose between us, City and Color flowing through the speakers being the only thing to provide noise. It was strange having most of my truth put out there to someone. Not even Marigold knew this much about me. With Mew, though, I felt a sense of ease that compelled me to let it all flow.

“Where did you live here? Like, I’m just curious about how you started at Mazerene and what you did in the meantime and all of that.” He was like a kid finding out that his parents are way cooler than first suspected.

“I lived in New York for a few years, like a lot of immigrants during that time, especially since I came in through Ellis Island. They closed it about a year after I came over, but it was my assurance at a new life.” It was my fresh start, even if I did have to hide in the cargo to make sure I was tucked away from the sunlight. “I started out modestly as a nighttime security guard for the Museum of Natural History but had to quit because they started asking me to work during daytime. Then I moved to Suffolk in Virginia and worked as a private investigator, which, man, people really liked to cheat in the 50s and 60s. So many mistresses.”

Although he didn’t laugh at that, he did crack a smile, a toothy one that I had been getting from him a lot recently. If he kept that up, I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself, something I never thought I’d have an issue with since he hated me so much for the first few months. “After Virginia, it was Philadelphia for a while, where I met Madeline. She introduced me to a network of other American vampires, who helped me find jobs and homes and things like that, and one of them told me about Mazerene. These last twenty or so years, I was just drifting throughout the states, trying to enjoy my time and see different things, like the Grand Canyon and Yosemite and all of that. I settled in my cabin a few years ago as a home base, then decided to just take the plunge with Mazerene.”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “I absolutely hate saying this because my ego doesn’t want me to,” he started, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel, bracing for what he was going to say. “But I’m sort of glad you joined since Goldie and Cade seem to like you, and you’re not the fucking worst at your job.” It was close enough to a compliment as I was probably going to get from him.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I teased. I wanted to kiss his stupid, handsome face. “Kind of a jerk, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Yeah, well, gotta keep you on your toes.” He turned up the volume, ending our conversation, an eyebrow raised at me with the Florence and the Machine that was playing. “Definitely a taste in music I wasn’t expecting.”

“I thought we were over picking on my music choices.”

“Oh, no, no, that’ll never end, don’t worry.” He changed his seating position again so that it was more typical. I noticed that he was fidgety a lot whenever it was just the two of us, and I wondered if I made him squeamish. I liked that idea some.

We made it to Atlanta at about 3:45 that morning, Mew having dozed off several more times, only to wake up whenever we hit a bumpy patch on the road, or I turned on the turn signal. It was cute how hard he had tried to stay awake. “I’m going to drive around some and see what my nose can sniff out, and then if we don’t find them in the next hour or so, we’ll get a hotel and start again at sundown.”

“How are you going to tell their scent apart from other vampires?” he asked, making a face that was almost cocky.

“I’m looking for a vampire scent blended with a demon’s smell. You guys have a very particular scent about you, like underneath your more natural scent. It’s like warmth, akin to what you smell on a hot day. I don’t really know how to describe it.” At least not without being embarrassed. I couldn’t tell him that me made my senses happy with the vanilla latte fragrance, laid atop the smell of heat and warmth. It was the same way a good cup of coffee used to make me feel. “Madeline said they still have the demonic parts with them, so I thought that may the best way to find them. If not, I’ll start asking other vampires.”

“Or you can use me for bait,” he suggested, as if the idea was genuinely good.

“Don’t be stupid, that’s how you would get hurt.”

“What’s stupid is you driving around a metropolis, trying to hunt down two vampires in a city that has a ton of them. That’s literally shooting fish in a barrel.”

“That’s a stupid saying,” I commented quickly, a disbelieving laugh coming from him.

“That’s what you have to comment on?”

“I’m not putting you in the direct line of fire just for you to possibly end up hurt.” This was me speaking as both his superior and as someone who liked him way more than I professionally should have.

“So instead, you’re going to just aimlessly drive around all the neighborhoods and burrows of Atlanta, hoping that you’ll just accidentally stumble upon them? Do you now know how massive this city is? People take a train just to get across it, and that doesn’t even get into the actual sprawl of the city.” His tone was even and mild, which surprised me since I had expected him to be raising his voice over something like this. “We should check into a hotel, get a better plan, and then finish this tomorrow night.”

I munched on my lower lip, pulling into the vacant parking lot of a bank so that I could think without driving aimlessly. “I hate that idea, you know,” I admitted, hands settling in my lap. “If we used me as bait, it wouldn’t be a problem. With you, though, it makes me nervous.” Not once in these past few months had I considered the idea of him dying or getting hurt, but now it was at the forefront of my mind, my instincts telling me to be extra cautious with him.

“If we use you, they’re not going to show up. If we use me, especially if I get some magic flowing, they’ll smell me, and we can trap them. I can handle myself.” Balling his hand up into a fist, he once again did the thing where he acted like he wanted to touch me but reeled it in before he could do it. “At least let me try. That’s why you put me on this case, right? Because you knew I could handle it.”

His actual words didn’t give much sway over my decision. It was all how he said it, with that pleading expression, partially raised eyebrows curved in concern, lips pulled in a worry. His voice was convincing and heartfelt. I understood now how he always ended up hurt on his missions if this was how he talked to his partners. “Fine,” I conceded, rolling my eyes, hating that he had this much control. “Hotel, plan, then sleep. You need to be at your best if you’re doing something stupid like this.” My nails dug into my legs when he grinned, a dimple on his left cheek and a gleam in his eye. A demon’s temptation was strong.

“Don’t worry about this. I got it.” I wondered how many times he had said that on his investigations.