Sugar Hearts

Many thanks to Rin-chan and Girl in a Tree for their lovely reviews! I really can\'t tell you how encouraging it is to know that I can always count on your kind and thoughtful feedback. And I welcome my new reader, Jai! I\'m glad that this story exceeded your expectations.

Love,
Falcon

Sugar Hearts

Chapter Ten

Marzi lowered his gun, and squinted through the clear plastic of his protective goggles, trying to determine how many of his shots had hit home. But the piece of paper was too far away. He could only wait until Kale pushed a button on the lane wall, and the clamp holding their target began to slide back along its ceiling pulley. Marzi fidgeted as he watched it approach. This was their third trip to the indoor shooting range, and he’d done his best to absorb everything Kale showed him. Now, after several hours of practice, he really wanted to prove himself. He wanted to kick some serious shooting ass.

The target arrived, and Kale unclamped it. For a moment, he turned it in his hands, before a smile crept onto his lips. Still smiling, he showed the target to Marzi. Four of Marzi’s shots had left small, circular tears in the bull’s eye. Another shot had struck one of the outer rings. There was no sign that his sixth shot had even grazed the paper, but nevertheless, the four direct hits represented a personal best for Marzi.

Very nice, Kale mouthed.

Marzi grinned. Then, eager to improve on his success, he reached for a fresh target. But Kale shook his head. So, instead of continuing, they gathered up their stuff, and left the lane behind, entering the much quieter lobby area.

“You did very well today,” Kale congratulated as he removed his goggles and earplugs. “You learn quickly.”

Involuntarily, Marzi’s mind snapped back to his childhood. He could still hear his father, patiently repeating the incantation, as he showed Marzi which symbols to trace in the sugar. Marzi had tried so hard. He’d tried until his head felt like it was going to split from the sheer effort. But his attempts never amounted to anything. His lemon drops always cracked, his jawbreakers always turned people’s tongues black, and his spells always fell flat. Neither of his parents had ever uttered the word “failure”. But Marzi knew it was there, buried deep beneath every other thing they did say.

“You’re an excellent teacher,” Marzi demurred, while packing away his own goggles and ear protection. “And I have a strong motivation for getting good.”

“You plan on shooting me?”

Marzi stared at the gun in his hand. He understood its power, now. He understood the responsibility it gave to him. And he understood, deep in his heart, that he would die to protect Kale. “I plan on saving your life. If the opportunity ever presents itself.”

Another smile warmed Kale’s lips. Abandoning his gear, he drew Marzi close. “You know,” he murmured, as his fingers brushed against Marzi’s cheek like bits of windblown ash. “I have bodyguards.”

Trembling with emotion, Marzi twisted his face, kissing Kale’s fingertips. “Do they love you like I do?”

“I’m not sure that anyone – human, demon, or angel -- is capable of loving me like you do, Marzi.”

“Damn right. That’s why I’m not going to trust your life to a bunch of goons who are only there because you paid them. If something goes down, I want to be able to help.”

Shadows swirled in Kale’s eyes, extinguishing their green fire. When he touched the heart which hung around Marzi’s throat, all color fled from the crystal, as if even light feared his wrath. “If anything ever does go down,” Kale vowed, “and if you are in any way harmed while it’s going down, then the instigators should pray that they kill me. Because I’ll make them wish they’d never been born.”

Marzi flushed, overwhelmed by the rare statement of devotion. He wanted to sink into Kale’s arms and stay there forever. But he’d become aware that they were attracting an increasing number of stares from the shooting range’s other patrons – mostly cops, Marzi suspected. Whoever they were, they seemed a bit put off by the sight of two men getting affectionate with each other.

“Let’s go,” Marzi urged, slipping his gun into his pocket.

But Kale caught his wrist, speaking in a voice so low that only Marzi could hear it. “Because of them? They don’t hold power over us. A single word from me, and I could have any one of them killed.”

Marzi looked at the faces of the men around him. Cops. In his head, he’d imagined defending Kale from the assassins sent by rival crime bosses. But defending him from the law seemed equally likely. If it came to that, would he take the final step? Would he shoot a cop? Would he shoot someone who might be Pepper’s beloved James Kelley?

“Let’s just go,” Marzi repeated. And, this time, Kale didn’t stop him.

Even as they climbed into the back of Kale’s limousine, and began the drive back home, they were quiet. Nothing disturbed the silence except the slight rumble of the engine. Lost in a strange reverie, Marzi stared down at the black leather seat, watching patches of light and darkness slide across it in an endless procession. Light never dominated. But then, neither did darkness. They just repeated themselves, in slightly different forms, forever and ever. Forever and ever, until the end of the world. So why did each time matter so much? Why did this time matter so much? If the struggle had been played out a million times during the span of human history, what gave people the supreme arrogance to imagine that their tiny part mattered?

Finally, Kale spoke. “Do you trust me, Marzi?”

Marzi lifted his thoughts from tangled complexities. Here, at least, was a question with a clear answer. “You know that I do.”

“And if I asked you to do a thing, without explaining why? Would you do it?”

Some undercurrent in Kale’s tone struck a nerve. Marzi laughed, trying to disguise his unease. “Are you asking me to sell my soul?”

“I would never do anything to rob you of your free will. I want surrender, not mindless slavery.” Kale wrapped his arm around Marzi’s waist, pulling him closer. Sheltering him in the safety of his dark power. “Your soul is your own. It always will be.”

“Then what?”

“I want to give you something you once asked for. But in order to do so, I need to perform a ritual for the next three nights. Will you let me? Will you do exactly as I say?”

Marzi tilted his head, resting his cheek against Kale’s shoulder. And he knew. Knew that he would shoot a cop, that he would shoot the treasure of Pepper’s heart, if it came to that. Because he loved Kale. And when you loved someone, this time did matter, because they mattered. They mattered as much as if theirs was the first story ever told. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”

“You won’t be sorry,” Kale promised, stroking Marzi’s hair. And again, silence wrapped them in its wings.

When they stopped, it was not because they’d arrived home. Instead, Marzi noted with surprise, they were in the alley behind Inferno. But he didn’t question it as Kale got out of the limousine, and waited for him to likewise. Wordlessly, Marzi followed Kale through the club’s back entrance. Once they were inside, Kale pulled the door shut, leaving them alone in a room normally reserved for the temporary storage of recent deliveries. In addition to the door through which they’d just passed, two others could be seen – the first of which, Marzi knew, led to the bar. He’d never seen the second one open. Kale crossed to the first door, and made sure it was locked. Then he returned his attention to Marzi. “Strip.”

“What? No foreplay?” Marzi joked. But Kale didn’t return his smile. So Marzi undressed, folding his clothes and placing them on nearby crate. Then, naked except for the crystal heart necklace, he stood before Kale, awaiting Kale’s next command.

However, the next command wasn’t verbal. Kale took a blindfold from his pocket, which he wrapped across Marzi’s eyes, before tying it in place. “Can you see anything? Anything at all?”

Marzi strained against the blindfold, but not even the tiniest sliver of light rewarded his efforts. “Nothing.”

“Good. Give me your hand.”

Unsure about Kale’s exact location, Marzi extended his hand. He trusted his lover. But standing there, naked and lost in the darkness, it was impossible not to feel vulnerable. Hours seemed to pass before Kale’s hand closed around his own. And when it finally did, Marzi clutched it with unnecessary force.

“Follow me. Slowly. I don’t want you to slip.”

Marzi heard the sound of a door opening, followed by a blast of stale, dusty air, which rushed into the room like a ghost released from its grave. Despite himself, Marzi coughed. Then, guided by Kale, he inched forward, until the ground seemed to come to an end.

“Stairs,” Kale explained. “Going down. Just take them one at a time.”

Cautiously, Marzi slid his bare foot across the stone, until he found the first step. Then, repeating the process, he found the next. And the next. And the next. The stairs seemed to wind downward forever. However, just as Marzi nearly surrendered to the dreamy rhythm of the endless descent, a bit of stone broke off beneath his foot. Suddenly balanced on air, he lurched forward, and a cry of alarm tore from his throat as his free hand flailed for something to break his fall. But Kale moved faster than gravity. In an instant, Marzi felt strong arms close around him, yanking him back against Kale’s body.

“I’m sorry,” Marzi gasped, badly shaken. He wasn’t sure what color fear might be, but he knew that the crystal heart would be blazing with it. “I just—“

“Shh,” Kale comforted, continuing to hold him. “I’ve got you now. Take your time.”

Shivering, Marzi clung to Kale. He dreaded going on. But Kale had asked him to do this, so go on he must. After several deep breaths, Marzi reluctantly left the safety of Kale’s embrace, and continued his blind descent. Soon, to his vast relief, solid ground replaced the stairs. Now, as they moved along, Marzi became aware of a pounding, throbbing noise coming from somewhere above them. The club. They must, he realized, be under the club. Specifically, under the dance floor.

Apparently reading his thoughts, Kale spoke. “Energy fuels magic. Energy and emotion. And I have found that it’s quite easy to excite humans into a state where they exude tremendous amounts of both.”

“You built Inferno to capture energy from the dancers?”

“Yes. Although, I have to admit, it also has other uses.”

Marzi tried not to think about other uses. He tried not to think about the fact that if he screamed, there was no way anyone else would ever hear it. In fact, he was so busy not thinking about it, that he nearly bumped into Kale when Kale came to a stop.

“We’re here. Take a step to your right and then two steps backward.”

Carefully, Marzi obeyed Kale’s instructions. Two steps backward brought him up against some metal structure, oddly shaped, and so warm that it nearly burned his bare skin.

“Good. Now, raise your arms.”

Marzi did so. A moment later, he felt a metal cuff snap shut around each of his wrists. Opening his mouth, Marzi tried to make a flippant comment about kinky sex, but the words wouldn’t come. This wasn’t about sex. This was about the fire that boiled in Kale’s blood, and the damnation that boiled in his eyes. This was about Hell.

In the darkness, Marzi felt lips press against his own, and he held onto them for as long as he could. Then, Kale pulled back. “I won’t ask you to feel no fear. That would be impossible. But know that I am here, and I won’t let any harm come to you.”

Marzi remembered the moment on the stairs – the way he’d slipped, the way Kale’s arms had yanked him to safety. “I know.”

Kale began to speak again, but not in any language Marzi recognized. It sounded like something which had once been beautiful, but then became distorted, full of hisses and crackles. Like a hymn catching fire. As Kale continued to chant, the air seemed to change. The dry, dusty smell turned to something bitter and burnt, stinging Marzi’s lungs when he inhaled it. Then, Marzi heard strange, shuffling footsteps, and knew that he and Kale were no longer alone.

Other voices joined the chanting, seeming to call back and forth across the room. Kale would say something, and they would answer him, in their sneering, snarling fashion. Slowly, the voices got closer, as if they were circling in on him. Then Marzi felt the touch of hands. Not human hands – hands with claws, hands with scales. Hands skittering across his body like horrific spiders. Biting his lip, Marzi repressed a scream.

“Enough,” Kale commanded, slipping back into English.

Immediately, the hands withdrew. Marzi heard the solid, steady sound of Kale’s boots walking across the stone floor. Then he felt a finger – a human finger – touch his chest. It seemed to have been dipped in something warm and wet as it traced a symbol over Marzi’s heart. “Repeat after me,” Kale instructed. “I open my body.”

“I open my body,” Marzi echoed.

“The burden that my teacher can no longer bear, I accept as my own.” Kale’s finger moved to Marzi’s forehead, tracing another symbol there. “That which was denied to me, I am now willing to carry.”

Again, Marzi faithfully spoke the phrases.

“With full knowledge of all the risks and responsibilities, I take this upon myself, so that it will not pass from the world.”

“...so that it will not pass from the world.”

“Very good. Now, drink.”

Marzi felt a goblet pressed to his mouth. But when he ventured a sip of its contents, he nearly spat. Blood. The unmistakable taste of blood. For a moment, Marzi’s stomach clenched, and he couldn’t force himself to go on. But he could still hear the creatures near him, scraping their claws against metal and stone. Squabbling among themselves as if arguing about which one got to take the first bite. And Marzi wanted to be out of that room, wanted to be as far away as Kale could possibly take him. So, fighting back the urge to gag, he choked down the goblet’s contents.

Kale spoke a few more words in the strange, infernal language, and all other noise in the room stopped. Then, Marzi felt his wrists being freed from the metal cuffs. Stumbling forward, Marzi reached out for his lover, and the moment when Kale’s hand closed around his own was all that kept him from running wildly, running blindly. Instead, he allowed Kale to lead him back the way they had come.

The ascent seemed to take forever, but finally, they were back in the storage room. Marzi heard a door shut behind them, and then Kale removed the blindfold. “You did very well,” he praised, as Marzi blinked in the bright light. “And, now that you know what to expect, the next two nights will be easier.”

Marzi wasn’t sure about that. The thought returning to the room beneath Inferno filled him deep sense of dread. But he didn’t want to seem weak, so he didn’t argue, and focused his energy on getting dressed.

When he’d finished, Kale pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “After all that, you deserve a reward. Is there something special you’d like to do this evening?”

“Thank you, but I’m tired. I think I’d rather just go home.”

“Of course.”

That night, Marzi tossed and turned for several hours, unable to sleep. And when he finally did manage to drift off, an odd dream caught him in its web. He dreamed that he was back in Sugar Hearts. And it was snowing. Inside the kitchen. Pepper was there, gathering up the white flakes, which she packed into heart-shaped molds. As Marzi watched, she passed her hand over each snowy heart, and a drop of blood fell from her finger, turning white to red. But as each drop left her, she grew paler. Until, finally, she matched the icy flakes swirling through the air all around her.

Pepper?

In the dream, she turned to look at him. And he saw that she was bleeding from a cut on her arm, and he was scared for her, and he wanted to rush forward and help her, but he couldn’t move. Pepper smiled, a little sadly, and hummed a bit of Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Snowflakes.” Then, she dissolved into the falling snow.