CHAPTER EIGHT - THE DEVIL BELIEVES IN YOU

Nate carried the plate of sandwiches and two Cokes up to his room. His grandmother had frowned slightly when he took two, muttering something about how he'd never sleep with all that caffeine and sugar, but he hardly heard her. He couldn't get past what she had said earlier. His father believed his mother was possessed by the Devil. Before he wouldn't have been able to keep back bitter, unbelieving laughter at that. But now he knew that magic was real. Witches were real. Could the Devil be real? Suddenly, nothing could just be laughed away any more. Anything was possible.

He hadn't asked her any more questions about it. He had just grown silent and so had she. What could he ask without giving away what he'd learned from Emrys? Did she know about his mother being a witch? She hadn't denied that. Just said that being a witch wasn't the reason she died. He could have followed up on that. As he thought about it, there were tons of things he could have asked. But he hadn't. He'd just clammed up and she'd busied herself finishing plating his foot, adding a pile of homemade chips onto each plate. For one moment, Nate wondered if she knew that there was another person in the house. Two Cokes, two sandwiches and now both plates filled with chips. His gaze had met hers for a moment.

"Oh, dear, I gave you too much," she said with a flustered wave of her hand.

Daniel stopped her from scooping some of the chips back. He was sure that Emrys would love them as much as he did. Thick cut with a sprinkling of sea salt and a bright crunch, they were the best. So much better than store-bought ones even if she made them because it was cheaper in the end. "No, no, it's good. I'm starving. I didn't get a chance to eat much today."

He felt her gratefulness then that he was acting normal, wasn't shutting down from what she had said, as she lightly touched his bare arm. "You're a growing boy. You need food. Go up and enjoy yourself."

"Just going to eat and sleep," he had told her. "Not much excitement in that."

She patted his arm again as if she knew he would be up to some mischief later that night. He had felt a touch of shame for hiding Emrys' presence from her.

But what would I have told her about him? I have a naked man in my room? Do you mind if he stays over and sleeps with me? Nate shook his head and let out a soft laugh as he padded down the hallway to his room. That would be before I admitted to her that he's a witch and can shapeshift. So not going over well. Maybe she'd believe I was as crazy as Dad ...

Nate's smile died on his lips. The plates clinked against the metal tray. He adjusted his sweaty palms so that he had a better grip on it and didn't dump the food on the ground as he shouldered his way into his bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him with his foot. His thoughts skittered to a halt as he saw Emrys stretched out across his bed, arms tucked behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling.

The older man had snagged a pair of Nate's sweatpants. They rode low on his hips, but came down to only mid-calf. Emrys was that much larger than he was, which gave Nate a strange thrill. The only light in the room came from the window. The moonlight silvered Emrys' chest and the ridges of the scars were more visible rather than less. The swooping designs went underneath the waist of the sweatpants and Nate wondered if they went everywhere on that body even along the shaft of the older man's penis. Nate's gaze slid lower over the prominent bulge between Emrys' thighs. He quickly looked away as color flooded his face and his own cock twitched in response.

"You were gone a long time," Emrys remarked without looking over at him. "What were you two talking about down there? I thought you were going to just call down, but then you ... were gone. And I was alone. Forced to clothe myself from the pile of semi-clean garments on the floor of your closet."

"Yeah, those are a little tight on you. I think they're clean, but I might have worn them once," Nate said.

"I did a sniff test, but everything has an aroma," Emrys replied with a wrinkle of his nose.

Nate's eyes narrowed. "Beggars can't be choosers. You didn't have to dress in my clothes. You could have stayed naked for all I cared."

Emrys' head turned to the side. There was a grin threatening to break out across his handsome face. "I think you care very much. I think you would have preferred it. Me, spread out across your bed, naked and dripping?"

Nate's cheeks flushed a nuclear red and his cock almost hurt from the throb that went through it. "I guess being a shapeshifter is hell on clothes."

Emrys' shrugged. "I actually stripped in the car this time. I really love those pants I was wearing. No need to shred them."

"Do you change at the full moon uncontrollably?" Nate asked.

Emrys gave out a low chuckle. "No, I'm not a werewolf, Nathaniel. I'm a witch who can turn into a wolf at will. Very different."

"Are there werewolves?" Nate asked, but immediately wished he hadn't. Because if there were witches and werewolves then the Devil really wasn't all that far behind in the realm of the possible.

"Yes, there are," Emrys said. "And vampires, too."

"Vampires! No shit!" Nate burst out.

"Are you going to stand over there with the food? Taunting me with it? Or come here and let us eat and talk?" Emrys asked.

"I'm coming. Hold on a second." Nate carefully walked over to the bed and managed not to spill anything. He put the tray at the foot of the bed.

Emrys immediately went in and starting sniffing and picking at the meal. "Is this bread freshly baked?"

"Yes, and the chips are homemade, too," Nate said proudly. His grandmother did things the old-fashioned way and he thought they came out perfectly. "The tomatoes are from our garden. Only the cheese and mustard aren't ours."

Emrys had already taken a big bite of his sandwich. His mouth was full as he said something that sounded like, "Tastes delicious. So good. Love your grandmother." But it was such a mumbled mess that Emrys could also have been saying, "What is this crap? I'm so hungry, I'll eat anything. Are you trying to poison me?" Though Emrys stuffing his face probably confirmed it was the former and not the latter.

Nate chowed down on his sandwich, too. He was surprised at how natural it felt to be eating with Emrys up here. He popped open his cold can of Coke. Some of the sweet, fizzy beverage beaded up and clung to the lip of the can. He licked it off. The only other person he'd done this with was Daniel. But Daniel didn't look like a god with too-tight sweatpants on and he chewed with his mouth open. Definitely not the image that set Nate's heart aflame.

"So are you going to tell me about the vampires?" Nate asked.

"I met one once. In a bar. It was ... interesting," Emrys said as he savored one of the chips.

"A real vampire? In a bar? How did you know he or she was a vampire and --"

"I knew because I'm a witch and I know these things. And I wouldn't get all excited," Emrys said with a sly glance. "They are the ultimate predators, Nathaniel, far divorced from any humanity they once had. Once they get past a certain age, they are as different from us as ... well, as an alien would be. You don't want their attention."

"That's -- really, uhm, wow. I guess I understand why," Nate said. "This vampire though didn't go after you, right?"

"He thought about it. Maybe he's still thinking about it. Time has a different meaning for someone who is immortal. But I got the hell out of there and found myself looking over my shoulder for several months and setting wards as powerful as the ones I put around your house," Emrys said as he licked the salt from his fingertips.

Nate found himself fascinated by how Emrys' pink tongue snaked out and lapped up the whitish-clear crystals. Emrys' topaz eyes raised to his and the boy quickly dove back into his sandwich.

"So ..." Emrys said as he ate the last of his chips and started eyeing Nate's.

"So?" Nate asked.

"What were you talking about with your grandmother for such a long time?" Emrys asked.

Nate's cheeks flooded again with color. He suddenly felt like a naughty child that had been caught doing something wrong. "I wasn't gone that long. Not really."

"Long enough to have discussed something interesting." Emrys stretched catlike on the bed, his toes pointing, as he let out a satisfied purr.

Nate's mouth went dry as his sweatpants clung to the line of Emrys' cock, which looked to be semi-hard. "I--interesting?"

"Yes, interesting, my little parrot," Emrys remarked.

"Parrot?" Nate parroted as all the blood in his body seemed to have left his head and fled for his groin. He shook himself as he heard the reason why he was being called that. "I -- it was nothing."

"It was not nothing. Though your mind immediately went to sex when you saw me, before that, you were quite thoughtful and evasive at the same time. Which tells me that she said something that disturbed you that you wished not to think about and yet couldn't stop thinking about," Emrys said.

"That was quite a mouthful," Nate said as he picked at the remainder of the sandwich.

"Indeed, but you understood what I meant even if it wasn't that clearly stated," Emrys pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I guess," Nate said. His heart sunk into his feet. He didn't want to talk about what his grandmother had said.

"What did she say to you?" Emrys asked, spacing the words out as if Nate needed to hear them clearly spoken.

He killed her ...

"About the sandwiches? Nothing much. She knows I have a big appetite." Nate deflected as he crunched on a chip. Emrys would make a big deal about this. That he wouldn't leave it alone. He could already see the look he'd send Nate in that special way that said: you know it's true. Witches. The Devil. Pacts with the Devil. All interconnected. So would it be so far-fetched that his father had ...

... killed her ...

"Not about the sandwiches, Nathaniel. You know what I'm asking." Topaz eyes turned towards his face.

... killed her because he thought ...

Nate fixed his own gaze on the tray before him. If he looked at Emrys he'd burst out and tell the man everything. Maybe he would howl instead. It was crazy to be so shaken up about it. But if witches were real ... "She talked about her day --"

... she was possessed ...

"Nathaniel! I really think I'm going to have to shake you until that beautiful head goes snapping back and forth if you don't answer me honestly in the next three seconds," Emrys said. There was just a touch of annoyance in his voice. He was now sitting up, resting on his forearms and staring at Nate full on.

... by the Devil.

"You can read my thoughts, can't you? Why do you suddenly need me to spell out to you what we talked about?"

Nate grabbed his plate with the remainder of his sandwich on it and his drink. He sat down at his desk with his back to Emrys and proceeded to eat. He didn't taste the yeasty tang of the fresh bread or the bite of good mustard and cheese. He just wanted to shove the food down so that he wouldn't have to talk. Emrys was suddenly at his back. His hands lightly resting on Nate's shoulders.

"I can't hear your every thought. Especially when you're upset. Things get jumbled and all I feel from you is pain and confusion. I retreat when that happens. It isn't pleasant," Emrys murmured softly. "And it's happening now."

"Normal people would drop it then. Someone's upset, someone's in pain and people drop subjects that make them feel those things," Nate gritted out. His head lowered and he picked at the edge of his desk.

"Yes, they would. But we both know I'm not normal," there was a lilt of amusement in Emrys' voice, but it soon disappeared as he added, "I don't want to cause you pain, Nathaniel. But I must poke and prod in all your forbidden places, because we have so little time to prepare for what's coming."

Nate spun around in his chair to face Emrys. His face felt hot and there was just the suggestion of tears in his eyes and voice. "What's coming? What's the big rush? You need to spell this out for me. Because all I know is that though you say you don't want to hurt me, you keep doing it!"

Emrys nodded slowly. "You have a right to know everything and as I said, I probably went about this all wrong, but --"

"Just tell me. No more excuses. Just flat out. Tell me what the big rush is for me to look at something that happened eighteen years ago!" Nate insisted. His hands balled on top of his thighs.

Emrys sank down onto his haunches and he covered Nate's hands with his own. His topaz eyes were luminous in the moonlight. He didn't blink. "All right. I told you about the witch hunters. I told you how they intend to come here. I should have said that they are here. Some of them anyways. I have felt their presences around town. And that's why -- against my better judgment -- I came back to you tonight."

"Against your better judgment?" Nate asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You are very beautiful. I don't know what will happen if the ... inevitable happens between us." Emrys' thumbs ran over the backs of Nate's hands. "Whitneys and Frosts have a complicated history between us of marriage, sex and murder. It's a volatile combination."

A trill of excitement flooded Nate with that simple touch. His breathing raced and he knew that his pupils dilated. It was as Emrys said. Being near the other man made his good sense leave the building. He swallowed and shook his head, "Nothing's inevitable."

Emrys grinned and waggled. "Playing hard to get are we? In a towel, no less."

Nate started laughing in spite of himself. He laughed hard and long until his chest hurt and the laughter sounded more like sobbing. He gulped down air as Emrys held him gently.

"I don't know why I'm so upset," Nate confessed. He wiped the back of one hand across his eyes. "I can't believe what she told me is real. Even if witches, vampires and werewolves are real. I just don't believe this!"

"What did she tell you?" Emrys prodded gently.

"That my dad killed my mom because she was possessed by the Devil," Nate said with a soft laugh. It was amazing how easy the words came now. They sounded slightly ridiculous. He waited for Emrys' reaction, but the other man was simply still. Nate shifted uncomfortably. That cold, crawling dread he'd stuffed down had come back full bore at Emrys' silence. "Come on. Say something."

"What do you wish me to say?" Emrys asked. His head was tipped down and he wouldn't look at Nate.

"That what she said was crazy! That I shouldn't worry about possession! That the Devil doesn't exist! That my mother wasn't possessed! You know ... the usual," Nate said with a nervous laugh.

"But you know I can't say that," Emrys answered. He raised his head. His expression was opaque, unreadable.

"What? Why can't you?" Nate demanded to know. His hands curled in a crushing grip on Emrys' shoulders.

"Because it wouldn't be true," Emrys said. "But you already know this. That is why you are upset. That is why you didn't want to tell me in the first place, because I would confirm that knowledge."

Nate stood up. He was rigid in the circle of Emrys' arms that wrapped around his thighs lightly. Emrys stood as well, but did not release his grip even as he moved up Nate's body. The boy couldn't help but relish the touch even as he emotionally wanted to shriek.

"I don't believe in the Devil," Nate ground out.

"The classic response is that your belief doesn't matter as the Devil believes in you," Emrys answered.

"Stop saying shit like that! Are you saying the Devil exists?" Nate asked.

"Sit. I must answer your earlier question and this one together. It's the only way you'll understand." Emrys pushed on Nate's shoulders and reluctantly, Nate sat back down.

Emrys began to pace. One hand scrubbed over his face while his lips moved as if speaking. Finally, the words he said were audible, "The Founding Families gained their powers through a pact with a being that others would call the Devil, though they did not and It did not identify itself as such. It was something from the Outer Dark that heard their calls and ... came down on fluttering black wings with eyes like fire. It was something so different from us ... well, It gave them power and in return, they said that they would serve It in whatever way It wanted and all their descendants would as well."

"So some thing appears to them and they eagerly say that they and all their family forever will serve It?" Nate boggled.

Emrys nodded, but waved off anything more that Nate would have said. "It lived up to Its part of the bargain. The Foundling Families were given powers to create fire with their minds, to control storms, to shapeshift, to see the future, the past and the dead. To control others' thoughts. On and on those powers went. But the thing -- the Devil -- allegedly never reappeared and asked them to do anything in return to serve It."

"Well, why not? Did It just go away then? Forget It had made the bargain?" Nate asked.

Emrys shook his head. "Time to It is probably very different than for us, just like a vampire's experience of time is different than ours. So a few hundred years is probably a blink of an eye. But I think that what It really wanted was to see the devastation not only the Founding Families would cause to others, but to themselves."

"How do you mean?" Nate asked softly.

Emrys stopped pacing. Strangely, he reminded Nate of a raven perched on a tree branch at that moment. "It's not just the Frosts who end up dead, in prison or in insane asylums. Eventually, every one who is of the Founding Families' bloodlines falls. They are corrupted. Whether it's something in the power itself that warps their minds and darkens their souls or whether it's just the nature of having power that corrupts, I don't know. But in the end, all are destroyed by it."

Nate blinked at him. He sat back in his chair. Nothing Emrys said was comforting. He had a feeling his calmness was from either not fully believing the other man or just shock. "And that's why the witch hunters want to kill us? Because we're destined to harm others? Because we got our powers from -- from the Devil?"

"That's what they'll tell you. They'll load your head with visions of Christ on the Cross. With a Devil with a goat's head and a forked tongue. They'll say if you do their work, perhaps your soul can be cleansed or at least they'll be there when you eventually fall and cut you down." Emrys' arms crossed over his chest. His fingers dug into his flesh. "But what they really want is power, too. Trust me on this. They are as corrupt and evil as those they hunt. Perhaps it is a sickness that is passed on from one to the other."

"You seem to know a lot about them," Nate said hollowly.

"Yes, I know them well, but that is a story for another time," Emrys agreed. He shook his head as if to clear it. "Could your mother have been possessed by whatever it was that gave our families the powers long ago? The Devil? Yes, it's possible. There has never been a possessed witch that I am aware of."

"I've heard about possessions in the news. Not sure if they're real or not, but it supposedly does happen," Nate said. "Why would witches be immune? It sounds like we'd be the first ones taken over if we're consorting with things from the Outer Dark or whatever."

"That's true. Possession by creatures from beyond this world is more common than you'd think. But the Founding Families are immune to such things. I supose it is because we are owned by one of them so the others back off," Emrys explained.

"So if my mother really was possessed --"

"Then it was likely the thing from long ago that did it," Emrys said. He wiped a shaky hand across his forehead. "And the fact that it did show up means that its coming to collect from our generation what our families promised it so long ago."

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