Boots Read online

  It seemed Willem was too angry even to notice the title. "I... talked to him. I held him. He said it felt better when he thought about me."

  "Yes. You were the crux of the spell. Retribution for the hurt he had caused you. When did the symptoms vanish?"

  "When... " Willem's voice finally regained a normal pitch. "When I forgave him."

  "So it is done. He will be well now."

  He had hoped that was the end of it, but he found himself seized under his forelegs and dangled at the end of Willem's arms, facing his still angry heki-sama.

  "How can you be so fucking casual about something like that? You hurt him!"

  "And he hurt you."

  "The one thing has nothing to do with the other!" Willem gave him a little shake. "You don't go around hurting people for revenge!"

  "It was for you," Kasha pleaded softly.

  "I don't care what it was for! You don't use your magic to hurt anyone! Ever!"

  "Fine."

  Willem pulled him closer so their noses were a mere breath apart. His voice had plunged to a deep growl as he went on. "No, not fine! You promise me! Never again!"

  Kasha heaved a weary sigh. "I will not use my magic for harm while I serve you. This I swear on the gods of earth and sky."

  "Well... good. All right then." Willem's grip eased, concern creased his forehead. "Kash? You okay?"

  "No. Not entirely. I just need to rest by the fire."

  Willem placed him gently on the hearthstones. Darkness crowded his vision, and he knew this was not merely exhaustion. The blackness hit him from time to time, cold and bitter, though normally after battle, or after he had been freed again. The timing made no sense.

  If he were human, he supposed they would call it depression. The word didn't seem quite adequate for the crushing despair. He felt his body melt from fur to skin. Distantly, he knew he lay in his human male form now, naked on the stones except for his boots. He found it difficult to care where or what he was.

  "Kash? Damn... " Willem's voice reached him from the end of a gray tunnel.

  A blanket settled over his chilled skin. "It will pass. Let me be."

  But Willem, being Willem, did no such thing. He gathered Kasha up and held him in his lap, wrapping the blanket close around him. "You're so cold. Are you sick? Do demons get sick?"

  Kasha couldn't bring himself to answer. A sickness of sorts, he supposed, if past failures and pain oozing up from the depths could be called illness.

  "Give me the slippers, Yorukaze."

  "Yoritomo-sama... please! I have been faithful!"

  "The slippers. I have no more need of you, demon."

  "Did you not say you loved me, my lord?"

  "Pillow talk. Surely you knew that."

  Faces faded, but the voices stayed with him, clear and sharp. Sometimes cold or fearful, sometimes full of contempt or occasional regret. Humility, yes, he had learned something of that. He knew his place by now. But sometimes the voices grew too loud again, drowned self and shattered confidence.

  "Should have said something. I'm so sorry."

  The deep, sorrowful voice reached through all the others, dragging him back to the fireside, to strong, gentle arms. Willem rocked him, stroking his hair.

  "I shouldn't have been so hard on you. Not when you feel this bad. God, I'm sorry." Willem's face appeared through the shadows, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. "You going to be okay? Can I get you anything?"

  "Always... such a considerate boy," Kasha whispered, forcing the words through the dark sludge pressing on his lungs.

  "She took her life rather than be with me! Of what use are you, wretched demon?"

  "I cannot command love, majesty. The illusion of it, perhaps--"

  "Then why did you not give me that? Thrice cursed churl, why did you not bespell her, make her mine?"

  "There are things I cannot do, majesty."

  "Cannot?"

  "Will not."

  "Give the damned boots back! Begone!"

  He fisted his hands in Willem's shirt, desperate for his solid warmth. "Willem... "

  "Easy, easy, deep breaths. I've got you."

  "Hold me tight. Please! I'm... I can't... everything's shifting."

  Willem's arms closed around him. Soft lips traced over his cheekbones, his eyelids. "It'll be all right, Kash. You're right here with me. Look at me."

  "My lord, your hands... so much blood... what have you done?"

  "Easily washed, my kasha."

  "But they came in good faith, under flag of truce."

  "And you led them to me. It was well done. Lambs to the slaughter."

  He surged up from the dark, gasping, clawing toward the one point of light so far above. "Willem!"

  "I'm here, I'm here. Shh, shh."

  Willem's lips closed on his, gentle but insistent. His mouth answered with wild hunger, seeking to pin the present down, clinging amid the storm surge of memory. Willem, Willem, his touch seared Kasha to his soul. Where his fingers traced, bands of white sunlight trailed behind, filling the dark empty spaces.

  He opened his eyes to find he had pinned Willem on his back, half the buttons ripped off his shirt. Panting, he kissed the red marks left by his nails on Willem's chest. "Forgive me."

  "You back with me now?"

  "Yes."

  "No big deal, then. Kinda nice to drive someone that wild."

  He searched Willem's face in the firelight. "Did I bite you?"

  "A little growling, some teeth, but no biting." Willem reached up to stroke a stray lock of hair from his forehead. His eyes held quiet amusement and concern, but no fear.

  "I'm sorry about your shirt."

  "Guess you'll just have to take it off the rest of the way now."

  Kasha gave him a solemn nod. "It's really the only sensible thing." He undid the last three buttons with exaggerated care, fingers ghosting over Willem's skin. When he tugged the tails out, Willem half sat up to help him slide the shirt from his arms.

  Large hands stroked over his thighs. "You want to take your boots off, Kash?"

  "No!" He gulped a panicked breath and went on more softly, "No. Please don't ask me to." He slid his fingers down the lovely golden treasure trail on Willem's stomach to undo his belt.

  "Fine, sorry. It is starting to freak me out just a little, though. Kind of like that story about the black velvet choker."

  "Oh?" Kasha popped the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down.

  "Man marries this woman who always wears a black velvet choker. She never takes it off and he wonders why. She won't tell him, but she says she can't ever take it off. Finally, one night while she's asleep, he takes it off and her head rolls off onto the floor. And her head yells at him that she told him she could never take it off."

  "Just to put you at ease, the boots are holding on neither my feet nor my head."

  Willem took his hand and kissed his fingers one by one. "But something bad will happen? Is that it?"

  "Yes."

  "You don't have to tell me." Willem lifted his hips to help Kasha slide his jeans and boxers down to his knees. "But if you need to talk. About anything."

  "Thank you." Still straddling Willem's hips, he curled forward to blow a gentle breath over Willem's growing erection. An inch more and he licked at the bottom of the cap, pleased when he received a twitch and a hard groan.

  "God, you're flexible."

  "I'm a--"

  "Cat, yeah, got that. Can you, um, lick your own cock?"

  "I can even lick my own balls."

  "Wow." The word came out as a tortured whisper. "Could I... watch?"

  Kasha found himself smiling, the darkness receding to faint, stippled shadows. "My sweet Willem, you do have the loveliest bit of kink to you." He slid off Willem's lap to sit on the floor, one leg tucked under him. The other leg he lifted slowly, straight up until his knee was beside his ear. "Are you watching?"

  "Hell, yeah," Willem choked out.

  Slowly, just to tease, he curled down
, concentrating on one vertebrate at a time. His cock, a good deal larger than a normal cat's, thank the gods, had already hardened and pushed from its sheath in arousal. Careful of the little forest of keratinous spines, he lipped at the tip. A desperate moan pulled his gaze up. Willem knelt, divested of his clothes, knees spread wide, stroking himself.

  "Did you just want to watch?"

  "No. But it's getting me pretty damn hot."

  Kasha curled lower, shivering as his own rough tongue teased over his balls. It didn't excite him during tongue baths, but having Willem watch made it so deliciously wicked. He lifted his head, his breaths coming short. "Tell me what you want, Willem. Tell me what to do."

  "You're so beautiful." Willem's hand had frozen on his erection, his pupils so large they consumed his eyes. "I want you so bad."

  "I had hoped you'd do a little better than that."

  "How long can you stay like that?"

  "Oh." Kasha shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe half an hour."

  "Can you get both legs up?"

  He snorted. "Not without falling over."

  "Don't worry about that, sweetheart." A lazy, wicked smile curled Willem's lips. "I'll take care of you."

  "No doubt." Kasha shuddered as a bolt of pure lust shot through the center of his body. He didn't mind nudging things in one direction or another, but what he truly desired was that rush of surrender. Willem in command mode set off New Year's fireworks in his blood.

  Without lowering the one leg, he carefully straightened the one on which he sat, and had to stifle a cry of indignation when Willem turned away from him.

  Willem shot an amused glance over his shoulder as he rummaged in his pack. "Don't blow a gasket, hon. Be right with you." He turned back, gripping a little bottle of hand lotion. "Joey insisted I needed it."

  "You do know it's rude to mention an ex in front of your naked lover?"

  "Sorry." Willem's unrepentant grin was anything but.

  "And you know I don't need that."

  Willem scooted closer on his knees. "Sure. But slippery's more fun." He squirted a little mound onto his fingers, put the bottle down, and wrapped his other arm around Kasha's back to steady him. "How about you get both legs up over my shoulders."

  Careful of Willem's head, Kasha lifted his other leg, able to remain upright leaning on the strength of the arm supporting his back. While he couldn't drape his legs over Willem's shoulders, the position was just as interesting with both legs sticking straight up in the air, propped against Willem's hard chest.

  He gasped at the cold touch of lotion against his perineum, and then moaned, his head falling back, when the slick finger slid lower to tease at his hole.

  "I feel like a pretzel," he forced out as one thick finger slid past his tight ring.

  Willem sucked on the side of his throat. "You're sure a tasty one."

  Firefly sparks of pleasure ricocheted through him when Willem wriggled the finger in far enough to stroke his gland. He gave up speech, his fingers kneading Willem's biceps, a loud purr vibrating through his chest. A second finger joined the first and his purring ratcheted up a notch, punctuated by little, pleading mews.

  "I love the sounds you make," Willem whispered against his jaw, licking and nibbling. "You want more?"

  "More," Kasha got out in a hoarse growl.

  His breath caught in shock when Willem lifted him, bent in half as he was, onto his lap, settling his rock hard erection in the crease between Kasha's cheeks. In all his years of sex, with some encounters more memorable than others, this was a position he did not recall. But then, Willem was uncommonly strong; it wasn't a position most men could manage.

  That deliciously sculpted arm wrapped tighter around Kasha's waist and lifted. The buried fingers withdrew, replaced by the silken head of Willem's erection demanding entrance. Kasha wrapped his arms around Willem's neck, breathing in hard puffs as Willem lowered him, filling him inch by inch.

  The odd position meant that Willem couldn't drive as deep as he had before, but that negated none of the mind-melting pleasure. Pain accompanied the strange angle as well, in each slow thrust, in the building burn tightening his hamstrings, but it was what he needed most right now. Physical pain was a thing of the moment. It drove out the haunts of the past.

  "All right, babe?" Willem murmured in his ear, both arms wrapped tight around him now, moving Kasha up and down as he pleased.

  "Yes, oh, yes." Kasha dug his nails into Willem's broad back, urging him on, helpless to do much more than wriggle on the pole impaling him. His cock, trapped against Willem's stomach, rode up and down along that soft, golden treasure trail. The spines had to be scraping Willem's skin, but he either enjoyed the sensation or was too caught up in the moment to care.

  So close, so damn close. "Willem, just a little, just... "

  He couldn't formulate a cohesive sentence, but Willem sensed what he needed and thrust up hard, thigh muscles bunching under Kasha's ass. The skin of his sac drew up tight, in a sudden rush as if his balls tried to climb inside. He felt as if the wind lifted him, as he used to when he rode the lightning. The cabin fell away. There was only Willem and the gale on which they rode.

  A howl leaped from his throat as the first shock of climax slammed through him. Willem's arms tightened around him painfully, his body shuddering under Kasha as he grunted and drove up harder. He buried his head against Kasha's shoulder, muffling his cries when he followed Kasha into the storm.

  Once the tempest began to quiet, Willem leaned forward on trembling legs to lower Kasha to his back, easing out so Kasha could have his own legs back. He sprawled boneless on the floor, limbs flung out with no regard for dignity, and heaved a long, contented sigh.

  Willem flopped down beside him. "Damn, you wear me out."

  With a little smile, Kasha leaned over to lick the red claw marks on Willem's shoulders and back. Not satisfied with that, he slid down to lick the white trails with which his climax had decorated Willem's stomach and chest. The mixed flavors of Willem's skin and his own come were intoxicating.

  After a few rough-tongued licks, Willem squirmed and laughed. "Stop! You're going to get me all riled up again."

  Kasha raised an eyebrow. "That's a bad thing?"

  "I need a rest first. Maybe even a nap."

  "Of course. I'm sorry." Kasha gave himself a little shake and changed back into his furred form. He rubbed his cheek against Willem's head and padded out the door to sit in the last rays of the evening sun on the doorstep.

  The blackness had lifted, thanks to Willem, though he felt oddly hollow and weary. He hummed to himself, watching the sun, his ancient mistress, change her gown from yellow to scarlet.

  In a few moments, Willem joined him, fully dressed. He plunked down on the step beside Kasha, opening a tin of canned ham. "What were you humming?"

  "An old song. Before your time, dear boy."

  "Uh-huh. Old like Greensleeves old? Or just Stardust Memories old?" Willem nudged him with his elbow. "I know a lot of old songs. It's not like music has an expiration date."

  Kasha glanced at him sideways, and then recited rather than subjecting Willem to his singing voice. Several previous masters had begged him not to sing. "I'll wait in this place where the sun never shines... "

  "Wait in this place, where the shadows run from themselves," Willem finished softly. "See, I know it. Still not feeling too great?"

  He butted his head against Willem's arm. "It's much better." You make it better. "Just overtired."

  Willem offered him bits of ham from his fingers while they watched the sun melt into the trees. "You need regular meals and a nice place to sleep. Time I swallowed my damn pride and got a job. Even minimum wage would get us a little room with heat and hot water."

  "I'm comfortable here, Willem."

  "This was the perfect place to be for a couple days to get my head on straight. But we can't be up here when the snows start." He pulled Kasha into his lap. "Not to mention the money's going to run out, and the food."
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br />   "I'll hunt for you."

  A soft laugh rumbled in Willem's chest. "I bet you would. Thing is, I need more than meat. So do you. Maybe I get a job I hate, so what? People do it all the time. It's just work, just to survive."

  A hard hand squeezed around Kasha's heart to hear him say so. If Willem had been alone, he might not be so willing to make the sacrifice. His lord wanted to do this for him.

  My heki-sama will not be someone's stock boy. The angry thought brought a growl up, which he managed to hide under a sneeze. "Give me a day or two before you do that. Just a little more time, and if your fortunes haven't changed by sundown two days from now, I'll gladly go back into town with you."

  "All right. Couple days won't hurt." Willem sighed. "Guess I'll have to go begging to Gun short-term after all, just so we don't have to sleep in a doorway." He stroked Kasha's back. "Please tell me you're not planning anything illegal, or anything that'll hurt someone else."

  "I've made you a promise. I intend to keep it. No magic used for harm."

  "Um, okay. But there's lots of harm done without magic all the time."

  Kasha leaned his head against Willem's chest. "I know that. Better than you think. No humans or animals will be harmed in the process of my machinations."

  Willem tapped a finger on his nose. "That includes you. I don't want you hurt, either." He hesitated a long moment, though Kasha felt his need to say more. Finally, he went on softly, "Kash? What did you do to get banished? Was it something really bad?"

  No other master had ever asked him that, and he had never volunteered the information. Minamoto no Yoritomo had known, had guessed the truth, but then the shogun had been unusually skilled at reading motives, and he had understood the nature of kashas.

  Trust, it seemed such a simple thing. He had loved a half handful of his lords, but had never been able to peel back that last layer of trust. Willem, he had watched grow up. He knew his heart, an unfailingly good heart, despite his sometimes-prickly temper. Did he trust Willem? Dear gods, yes, more than he trusted himself.

  "It was three really bad things, if you must know." Kasha snuggled closer, wanting more warmth now that he had made the decision to lay bare his past. "I was a particular kind of demon and had a specific job. A sacred trust."