Demon’s Test (Demon Mates #4)

Chapter Six

“Uhm, I guess that could have gone better?” Milo sounded insecure, which forced Quirion to suppress his urge to go full demon on that insolent little mortal who had dared to insult his…his…his protégé, yes, that was a good word. Not boyfriend, as Quirion thought he would love to call the young man. He still didn’t know when that had happened. He could exactly pinpoint when his mild annoyance about having to deal with Milo to keep Dre off his back had morphed first into sympathy, then admiration, and finally fondness. It had happened within the first three weeks, his annoyance had been the most short-lived of the three emotions, only surviving the first hour of having Milo in his library. Admiration had seeped in during the course of the following two weeks, when he had had the privilege to witness the determination and diligence Milo showed in regard to his studies as well as his work for Quirion. He had taken to Quirion’s superior filing system like a demon to battle, instantly recognizing the many pros of strictly adhering to the alphabet. Fondness had been sneaky, ambushing him one late afternoon when he had found Milo asleep on his desk, his left cheek cradled in the crook of his elbow, his right hand still loosely holding the pen he had used to write down some complicated calculus.

But when he had started to see Milo as a potential romantic partner, Quirion had no clue. It had been more of a process than an instant thing, growing each day he got to know Milo better. And now Quirion didn’t know how to proceed. After analyzing the situation from various angles, he had identified several problems. The first and probably most insignificant was the age difference. His father as well as his brothers didn’t seem to have any problems on that front, and even though still young in human years, Milo was far more mature in spirit than many paranormals Quirion had met who had centuries under their belt.

The next problem was linked to the first. Should Milo accept his wooing, and yes, Quirion was old school, he would definitely woo, and turn out not to be his mate, what then? Would he opt to cut ties with him immediately to spare them both the misery and heartbreak sure to come when Milo either died in his arms or realized he had wasted his life on Quirion? It might sound dramatic, but it wasn’t too far from the truth, as examples from the past showed.

The last problem was the most severe in his opinion. Did he even want his mate? Quirion had never had an active sex drive like his brothers. He had slept with members of different species for scientific purposes—in one case, all he had wanted had been to confirm a rumor about the secondary sexual characteristics of selkies, which he could then cross from his description of the species because it had turned out to be utter nonsense. He did feel romantically attracted to Milo, though not necessarily in the way other people would see as normal. He could see himself getting intimate with Milo, but it wasn’t at the forefront of his thoughts. Lust was a distant third to spending time with the young man and cuddling with him on the sofa. Quirion could see himself and Milo doing that for all eternity, in a hazy way, more like a dream. Perhaps because he didn’t want himself to hope for it becoming his reality.

It was safe to say his interest in Milo was strong, he just wasn’t yet sure where it would lead them, if it should lead them anywhere, and if he was prepared to live with the consequences of having been led. Quirion mentally shook his head. Now was not the time to ponder such nonsense! It was more important to remain firmly in the present, where his relationship with Milo was safely platonic and therefore not prone to any changes.

“You’re right. I could have ripped his head off.” Quirion stared at the door through which the mortal had fled. It was rare for him to feel his demonic urges rising to the surface, even rarer when it wasn’t linked to protecting books from amateurs and dilettantes.

“He’s not going to let that go.” Milo sighed. “He’s already suspicious about my funding and now he won’t stop digging until he’s found something. Sometimes I think he lives to get on my nerves.”

“You have nothing to fear from him. The SBW is above all reproach, even though I’m no longer working with them, and they are widely recognized.”

“I thought they were a secret society?” Milo looked puzzled.

Quirion smiled indulgently. Of course, his Milo had picked up on that. “Secret doesn’t mean invisible. They have an official side, one that allows them to interact with universities, schools, and think tanks all over the world. Think of an iceberg. What people can see above the water is just a small part of what is really there.”

“And when I get the funding, they let me dive under to see the base of the iceberg?”

“If you want to stay in the metaphor, then yes, you get to dive under.”

Milo nodded. “Then let’s see that I can get the scuba gear.”

“Now you’re making fun of me.” Quirion gently elbowed Milo, which caused him to stagger back dramatically.

“Watch your strength, Qui!”

They both laughed, and the familiar feeling of being home flooding Quirion whenever he spent time with Milo returned with full force. I guess the question is no longer if I want to have eternity with Milo but when I want it .

“I guess we better start working. What’s first on the list?”

Milo rummaged through the various paper mounds on his desk, extracting the print-out from SBW’s email with a triumphant huff. He held it out to Quirion, who scanned it with both his secret talent and practiced ease. At this point, his talent and his natural abilities were so intertwined he doubted he was still able to separate them. And why should he? It was all about the books and getting rid of faulty grammar and pesky spelling errors. In this email, there were only two minor punctuation issues, still two too many for something coming from SBW, but the way they presented themselves to the world was no longer his concern.

“First, we need your CV. Let me see how that looks and if we have to change anything. When did you last update it?” Quirion was all business now, diving into this new task with his usual enthusiasm.

Milo turned his PC so Quirion could get a better look and clicked around for a bit until his CV appeared on the screen. “I updated it a few months ago when I tried to keep my funding from MIT. It should be complete.”

There was a hint of anguish in Milo’s voice, about losing the funding from his alma mater, and Quirion could relate. Milo had been so proud to stand on his own feet, to get his own funding. Sammy’s not-so-sneaky attempt at getting Milo funding through Declan, Troy and Emilia had blown up because Milo wasn’t the type to just take money without doing his homework about the donator first. It hadn’t taken him long to find out who was behind the more than generous offer to support his research two years ago. Quirion had, of course, seen this coming and told Sammy it was futile, but had his brother’s mate listened? No, no, he hadn’t, because he thought he knew better than Quirion. Laughable . Quirion wondered if Milo would investigate SBW at all or if he trusted his word. So far it seemed the latter, which pleased Quirion more than he cared to admit. He read over the CV, not finding any mistakes—and not expecting to, because Milo had learned from him. “This looks good. Perhaps you want to highlight your work for Sammy a bit more. As much as he annoys me, his name has a good ring in certain circles I know Beverly and Rasputin are frequenting as well. This could give you a leg up.”

“And he’s still helping me.” Milo had murmured the words so quietly, Quirion wasn’t sure if they had been intended for him to hear.

“You know he loves you like a younger brother, don’t you?”

Milo sighed. “I know and I don’t know how I deserve it.”

“Milo, we talked about this. Sammy forgave you a long time ago. Probably the moment Dre went through the first rip in space and time with him. Your intent may have been questionable, but the outcome for everybody involved was more than desirable. And you have repented more than enough.”

Milo turned to meet Quirion’s gaze. The hurt Quirion saw in those gorgeous eyes hit him like a knife. “I have, but I don’t think it will ever be enough. I wanted to take his life, well, not really, I didn’t think Dre would follow the summons, but the idea was there and in exchange, he has given me a family and friends and helped me make my dreams come true. I don’t see where the punishment is.”

“You had to learn his mediocre ways of book storing. I’d say that’s horrific enough.”

Quirion meant every word he said and took a moment to understand why Milo was doing a cross between a hiccup and a laugh. “I’m sorry, Qui, but that’s only horrific for you. I hate to tell you this, I really do. Not everybody suffers under the severity of faulty library work like you do.”

“Then perhaps ‘everybody’ should get their priorities straight.” Quirion wasn’t above pouting. It worked, too, because Milo smiled, even if it was a bit wavering, and nodded.

“As always, you are right. If books were a priority on this world, many things would be different.” He sighed wistfully. “No wars, because books could be damaged, for one.”

Glad that they had steered away from Milo’s lingering feelings of guilt—Quirion could see how they might be a problem, in an abstract kind of way—he tried to get back to the important things.

“No more wars if books were to take their rightful place. What else beside the CV do you need?”

“Such a smooth change of topic,” Milo commented with a wink. “Let me see, ah, yes, an outline about my work and the progress I’ve made so far, no longer than five pages, minimum three. And an essay about the ethics of bioengineering.” He tapped his lower lip with his right index finger. “I do have an outline—it’s a bit dated, but I can polish it. The essay, though, that I have to do from scratch.”

“Then let’s start with the outline. I can’t to wait to hear what you’ve come up with since we last talked.”

A few hours later they had polished the outline to a shine nobody would be able to resist. Quirion was more than impressed by Milo’s latest findings and didn’t hesitate to tell him so, which put that special gleam in Milo’s eyes Quirion loved seeing there. He just wanted to suggest a break when Milo’s cell chimed. He took one look at it, furrowed his brow, did some swiping and reading and sighed.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s from Sammy. I’ve forgotten that today is video jury day.” Milo huffed and grinned at the same time. “How about it, do you want to watch fantasy short films from enthusiastic humans re-enacting what they think the Demon Wars were?”

“Are you serious?” Quirion couldn’t imagine a more torturous way to spend his late afternoon, aside, perhaps, from having to suffer through the Middle Ages again. And seeing how many errors were in print to this day. Or listening to his brothers bickering about absolutely insignificant things that they somehow managed to blow completely out of proportion. So, yeah, there might be a few things worse. Still, Milo couldn’t be serious, could he? The expression on his face said he was very serious, thank you very much. Not wanting to be the person to crush Milo’s spirits after their unpleasant run-in with his useless colleague a few hours before, Quirion steeled himself for the evening of torture he was about to endure. “I’m just kidding. I can’t wait to see what those humans have in store.”

Milo’s smile resembled the sun coming out after a thunderstorm. “Wonderful. Let’s shut everything down and then we can go to Sammy’s.”