Page 4 of Forbidden

He let himself into one of the vision rooms. Soundproofed and filled with quiet, meditative things. Soft chairs, a sofa, an incense burner, a tabletop fountain that quietly trickled in the corner. There were silk plants in the corners, soft yellow lamps on the tables, a miniature zen garden with a little wooden rake. Anything one might need for quiet reflection.

Ira turned the door’s lock to show ‘Occupied’ on the outside and set his things down on one of the accent tables against the wall, flopping onto the sofa witha sigh.

The last priority vision he had, he’d given to Alex Hawk. Hawk saved the family he saw in his vision, but he was excommunicated soon thereafter for having relations with a demon named Talon.

Ira rubbed his hands over his face. He shouldn’t even know that demon’sname. Shouldn’t know any of their names. He shouldn’t know that Luke Morgan had narrowly avoided death three months ago. He’d approached him not long before the attack that almost took his life, hoping to share at least a bit of his knowledge withsomeonewho might understand. All he’d really managed to do was confuse Luke and risk suspicion on them both. But Luke was safe and happy with Malachi now, and Ira felt the passage of time like sand sifting through his fingers, counting down to his own doom.

He couldn’t tell the guild that he’d been having visions abouthimselfwith a demon of his own, one with red eyes and a beautiful body. He felt as though he already knew this demon, intimately knew his body, his smile, the way his hands felt on Ira’s skin. The body-shaking pleasures he’d experienced in the privacy of his own mind with that demon, pleasures he hadn’t even known were real but would one day become more than images in his head.

He’d never had a vision that didn’t come to pass, but he desperately hoped he could ignore these long enough that they would go away. He didn’t want to wind up like Hawk and Morgan. No pleasure was worth the pain of excommunication. Sloan was already on the warpath. This morning was evidence enough that the guild didn’t plan to forget their losses. Ira didn’t want to find out what would happen to him if he became the third to fall.

“I just want to have a nice, normal,log-ablevision,” hedespaired to the ceiling. “Just one vision. Anything remotely normal. I don’t care if I see someone taking a dump, at least I’ll be able to log it with the guild.” It wouldn’t be useful to the council, but that was the least of his worries at this point.

He straightened, making himself comfortable in the middle of the sofa, folded his legs under him and closed his eyes. A normal vision. That was all he wanted.

The trickling water from the tabletop fountain was the only audible thing in the room. He let his mind wander, slipping from thought to thought with no deliberate direction. His physical body fell away as he floated. No longer did his stomach gnaw at him with hunger or constrict with anxiety. There was only the endless void.

There was no ticking clock, nothing to mark the passage of time. It might’ve been ten minutes or ten hours before he finally saw something.

A darkened street. Jaundiced yellow street lights were visible in the distance, but the one nearest was unlit.

A door slammed, and a pale figure in dark clothing turned away from it, keys jangling in his hand. Red eyes passed over Ira without seeing him.

Wolf.

He was just as beautiful as every other time Ira had seen him. His dark T-shirt stretched taut over his muscular chest, his jeans hugging him in all the right places. The moonlight streaked his ash-blond hair with pale blue, and Ira’s gaze lingered on the sway of his hips as he started walking.

He strode away from the warehouse building—that was the club, In Extremis—when two figures emerged from the alley beside it. Ira’s heart leaped with terror. Blades gleamed in the moonlight. Wolf gasped, dodging the first pair of swings. One ofthe paladins worked his way around him. Wolf was a powerful fighter. He grabbed the paladin in front of him, twisting his arm until the man screamed in pain. The paladin behind him lunged, and Wolf wasn’t quick enough to stop him.

“No!” Ira screamed, startling off the couch—and falling straight to the floor, his lower legs numb, his knees aching, his back sore. How long had he been under?

He checked his watch. It was almost midnight, and his heart rate was elevated. If Wolf was attacked tonight, Ira didn’t have much time.

He stopped halfway to the door.

Did he even want to help? If Wolf was killed, his visions would finally stop. He couldn’t have a tryst with a demon who was dead. All his problems would go away if he just… did nothing. If he let Wolf die. But guilt churned in his empty stomach at the prospect. Could he live with himself if he let Wolf die? Could he live with himself if hedidn’t? No matter what he did, it would change things. Either the visions would stop, or he would have to raise a hand against the guild in order to protect a halfling. It was forbidden. Whatever he chose, after tonight, nothing would be the same.

It would be far too easy to go home and pretend he knew nothing. He set everything in the vision room back in order and left. There was another student working the desk now. They worked in five hour shifts, so Lexi was long gone. He signed out mechanically and strode from the building without logging anything once more. He could go home, have a peanut butter sandwich, and go to bed early. When he woke up, all his troubles would be gone. Wolf would be dead. The visions would stop. He could go back to his comfortable, mundane little life.

He got in his gray sedan and drove down the long driveway.The iron gate swung open for him, and he stopped at the road. Left would take him home. Right would take him into the city—and to In Extremis. He didn’t have much time to decide.

A droplet of sweat trickled down his spine and soaked into his shirt. He already knew what he was going to do. It was a foregone conclusion.

He turned right.

Chapter 2

Familiar bass poundedthrough the club. Wolf hated this song, but the crowd ate it up, so their DJ continued to play it night after night. As expected, the crowd was loving it, bodies writhing and gyrating together out on the dance floor. Wolf braced his hands on the bar, his eyes trailing around the room.

Talon was in his usual booth tonight, looking gleefully at his partner, Alex, who was talking animatedly, waving his hands in the air. Their whole relationship was an enigma to Wolf. How did a demon like Talon wind up with a cheerful golden boy like Alex? Wolf never would’ve guessed they’d make it. There were whispers throughout the club about them, even six months after the drama had died down. Some of the halflings were disgusted. They claimed Talon had gone soft, but if they truly believed that, none of them were brave enough to say it anywhere Talon himself might overhear. Even more seemed intrigued. What was it about the ex-paladin that could capture a demon like Talon’s interest?

And then there was Malachi and Luke. They were also present tonight, but Malachi had dragged Luke out onto the dance floor. Their arms were wrapped tightly around each other, their cheeks pressed together, talking softly to each other. They were softer, somehow, than Talon and Alex, which was also a surprise. Wolf never would’ve pegged Malachi for anythingsoft. But he was soft as silk for Luke, dutifully doing whatever the human wanted, like a puppy eager to please.

Xyra, his no-nonsense part-time bartender, swanned behind him, fetching a glass and a bottle and pouring a drink. “She wants to see you.”

“Who does?” He didn’t have to bother asking, but it amused him to pretend.

Xyra shot him a dry look, her crimson gaze half-hidden behind a curtain of midnight blue hair. “She’s pissed that they’re both here.”

---