Daimon Page 2

  "Your father was at the other house?" Daimon asked, unhappy at the thought.

  "No, no, that's Gene and his men," Leland replied.

  Daimon frowned. He needed to hear things in full. "Tell me from the beginning," he urged.

  "Papa is American, but my mother was French. She was human, not Lycan, but the gene still passed to me through my father. We spent a lot of my childhood visiting France, and Mama made sure I spoke her native language."

  "Hence the very attractive accent," Daimon said with a smile. "You said your mother was French?" The telling of his tale was helping Leland; Daimon could hear a mix of affection and assurance creeping into the blond's voice.

  "She died," Leland said, his voice suddenly sad. "We lived in America, and my father was always a more peripheral figure in my life. He takes his responsibilities as an alpha and leader of the pack very seriously. I am no alpha. I will not succeed him. He let Mama care for me, and I wanted for nothing. My family is rich and my father a successful business tycoon."

  "But you missed your father's presence," Daimon said, earning a nod.

  "I had a wealth of material things, but not what I truly wanted. The simple loving affection and closeness of a father for his son. Mama was killed in an altercation between dark and light. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even her guards were killed trying to protect her, and my father was devastated. He coped by throwing himself harder into work and more into protecting and strengthening the pack."

  "And you?" Daimon asked softly.

  "I missed her and wished I could have shared my grief with Papa, but I never saw him cry. I've never seen him display any weakness. Then, as a graduation present, Papa arranged for me to travel to France and go back to Mama's hometown, Avallon. I was going to spend a year there living with Mama's family. It was wonderful to see them all again and to be able to just be me with no one having any expectations of what I would do or say or how I should behave."

  "It sounds like just what you needed," Daimon said. "There is a 'but' though?"

  "Very much so," Leland said with a deep sigh. "I travelled around Burgundy and into Morvan Forest where I met Randal—Randy. He was the embodiment of my dreams, and I was attracted to him at what felt like cell level."

  "He didn't try and take advantage of you?" Daimon asked, ready to defend the pretty, young cub.

  "Oh no," Leland assured, clearly picking up on Daimon's sudden agitation. "Randy would not rush anything. He was careful and considerate. We went on several dates before we even kissed. Then we travelled together, our physical relationship very chaste. We grew to know each other and enjoy being together, and the instant attraction I felt gave way to something deeper, more permanent."

  "Good," Daimon said, his voice a low purr of approval that had Leland smiling.

  "We spent four idyllic months together, and I told my family. I thought my father would be pleased. I wouldn't be under his feet anymore. After all, I would only ever be a beta. I was sure he would be happy to see me married off."

  "He wasn't?" Daimon urged softly. He felt the slight nod which brushed silken tresses against his nipples and his skin and gave an inward groan. The youth possessed an unconscious eroticism. Steeling himself, he resumed listening. He would take care of his baser needs later.

  "Randy and I had always stayed apart during the Phase. Neither of us wanted to jeopardise what had been growing. But last month, we chose to transform together; the last step before forging our permanent mating for life. We stood together deep in Morvan Forest as the moon rose. We had already stripped in preparation."

  "I wish I'd been there," Daimon said his tone wistful. "The woods sound like an idyllic place for two Lycans to make love," he added at the look of curiosity in Leland's eyes. The mental picture of two attractive, aroused young men sent tendrils of lust to tease throughout Daimon's body. "Please continue," he urged, bringing his own ever-increasing arousal under some semblance of control.

  "Oh, Daimon," Leland sighed. "If I had thought Randy maginifique as a man, as a Lycan he was incroyable. He was a natural alpha. I dropped to my knees before him, and I will never forget the sight of him, head back, silhouetted against the moon, howling his triumph. He nuzzled me, scented me, licked me so intimately that I offered myself then and there. Instead he sucked me until I had nothing left to offer him before he decorated me with his seed, claiming me as his. We wanted to consummate our love at the next full moon."

  Daimon waited patiently as Leland descended into silence. Then the young man began again, his voice now laced with sorrow and pain.

  "My father received my news and wasn't pleased. He was furious. He called me to say that Randy only wanted me for the wealth I had, and he would find a suitable partner for me back in the US. I wasn't given any time or opportunity to defend Randy. I managed to get a message to him through a sympathetic cousin, and I was taken back to the States. I was met by Gene, who is a leader of one of the smaller packs under my father's overall dominance."

  "Is he the silver-haired Lycan by any chance?" Daimon asked and received a nod that caused Leland's long hair to rub against him once more.

  "Yes. He said that we would be going to his home, so that even if Randy did try to follow me, he wouldn't find me. Gene underestimated me, and I managed to escape him, but he and his men tracked and caught me. That's when he drugged me to keep me from escaping again. My father is coming here. He would have got here sooner, but there was a pack problem he needed to deal with first."

  "If you and Randy are life-mates, he will be looking for you," Daimon said softly.

  "I miss him so much it hurts," Leland whimpered. "The next Phase was meant to be my consummation with Randy. I love him. I will die without him."

  "Hush, angel," Daimon whispered. The dramatic statement was not as far-fetched or hysterical as it sounded. Some mated Lycans did fade if they lost their partner.

  Daimon understood why Leland's father had thrown himself so much into other areas of his life when his mate died. As the alpha of a large pack, there would have been much for the grieving Lycan to devote himself to. However, Daimon felt that the sire had failed his cub. Even though he was pack alpha, as Leland's father he should have devoted time exclusively to his son.

  "Gene has always been so much like a father to me. It hurt when he wouldn't listen to me about Randy. I know it pained him to have to drug me, but he was afraid I would get hurt trying to escape, and he said he wasn't going to let Papa lose me as he had lost my mother."

  Daimon felt his soul lift to hear that Gene had drugged Leland to protect, not hurt, the young man. His body inexplicably thrummed whenever Gene came into his mind. He gave a disgruntled growl. All thoughts of making love with the beautiful blond had evaporated. He might be a demon, but not a monster. He did not follow the call of the Dark Side. Sight, scent, and sound all told him that Leland's heart, soul, and body belonged to Randal, and Daimon would not try and take something so freely given to another.

  He also couldn't escape the notion that he and Gene were meant to be. He shook his head as if the action would make the idea dissipate.

  Leland's father could be a Dark devotee, but Daimon hoped that as the father had been such a peripheral part of his son's life he simply hadn't realised his child had become a man capable of finding his own mate. Despite Leland's youth, Daimon knew the blond's emotions for Randy were very real and very strong. That Randy had courted Leland suggested an honourable man who had inadvertently chosen a powerful and wealthy alpha's cub as a mate.

  Given that, Daimon felt sure that he could make Leland's father see how much he had hurt his son by denying Leland's ability to choose a suitable mate and keeping the couple separated. He preferred to think of the blond as loved by a misguided father believing he was doing the best. Protecting the family, the pack, ran deep in Lycan blood. Daimon did not want to even contemplate anything else.

  He needed to ensure he kept Leland until he could find a way to get Randy to him, or until Randy finall
y tracked his mate down. He smiled as he realised Leland had slipped back into sleep, remnants of the drug and the intense emotional release draining the slighter man. He dropped an affectionate kiss onto the platinum silk tresses and settled the blond to rest a little longer.

  While Leland rested, Daimon looked down at where his hard flesh tented the bedding. He had a throbbing erection to take care of and a plan of action to formulate. Grinning at the sleeping blond, he dematerialised from the bed.

  ****

  Stretching languorously, Leland slowly opened his eyes. He was alone in the large bed which he felt fitted the demon perfectly with its huge size, black silk sheets, and contrasting red fur-like blanket. He sat up and looked around. The floor-to-ceiling curtains, opened just enough to let in a shard of bright sunlight, were a rich, deep red velvet. He was surprised to see a large oil painting that seemed to depict the scene of a battle, then he realised it was a depiction of satyrs and centaurs enjoying pursuits of a more peaceful, pleasurable, carnal nature with beautiful young men. Leland grinned even as he felt a blush on his cheeks.

  Leland stretched again, unsure whether to simply lie and wait for Daimon to return or actively seek the demon. Before he could worry too much, Daimon materialised holding a breakfast tray. Leland gave a gasp of shock at the sudden appearance.

  "Sorry, angel, wasn't thinking," Daimon said immediately. "I should have used the door and knocked." He grinned mischievously as his tail snaked round and tapped on the base of the tray he carried.

  Leland relaxed with a laugh. The demon was very easy to like and, despite his obvious licentiousness, had made no sexual advances or done anything to make Leland feel anything but safe and welcome. His mouth watered as he looked at the arrangement of fresh orange juice, croissants, a large, shallow cup of black coffee, and a small jug of cream on the tray that Daimon set on the bed.

  He smiled gratefully at his red-skinned saviour. Leland had quickly become used to the sight of the demon. Leland studied him for a moment. Still naked, Daimon sported gold hoops through large nipples and a gold-studded black leather harness that came over powerful shoulders and between the broad, solid pectorals. Leland realised he was even getting used to seeing the impressive, half-hard genitalia. He had to admit to himself that he found Daimon exceptionally handsome, in a dark, demonic way, and it would be very easy to react to the demon's sexuality if he didn't love Randy so much.

  He shuffled to get comfortable as Daimon set the tray on the bed and sat down next to him.

  "To get to the bathroom, go out onto the hallway and turn left. It is then two doors down on the right," Daimon said. "I keep it stocked for visitors. The stairs down are to the right of this door at the end of the corridor. I need you to promise you will trust me, Leland." His voice took on a tone that made Leland instantly cock his head like a confused puppy. "You are safe in this house. Not even another Lycan can detect you here, but step outside and an experienced Lycan like Gene will be here in minutes, long, long before Randy could reach you."

  "I don't know if…" Leland began sadly, but found his chin in Daimon's hand and his downturned face lifted to look into warm, fathomless black eyes.

  "He searches. Don't doubt it. Gene will have said what he did to try and break your bond. When you've eaten, come downstairs and together we will try and reach Randy to guide him here. Once you and he are mated, there is nothing your father can do."

  "I don't know how I can ever repay you," Leland said, looking with gratitude and joy at the demon. "I am willing to leave everything and everyone I know and become part of Randy's pack. I just wish my father could accept my choice."

  "Seeing you at the side of the man who loves you, claimed by the one with whom you were destined to be, that will be payment enough. I'm sure your father will be pleased for you once he realises the depth of commitment between you and your mate. Now eat and refresh yourself. I'll be downstairs—turn left, first door on the left. It's my library."

  Leland promised, and as Daimon vanished leaving only a wisp of red, sulphur-scented smoke, he attacked his breakfast with enthusiasm.

  ****

  Daimon heard a tap on the library door and glanced up to see a shy Leland edge his way inside with a timid smile.

  "Um, I have no… I could find no…" A hand waved at his sheet-clad frame.

  The sight of the beautiful blond, clad only in one of his black silk sheets, engendered two reactions from Daimon. His cock surged to instant fullness—upright, ready, and eager—and he also burst out laughing.

  "Oh, angel, I'm sorry. I forgot," Daimon said in-between laughs. He waved a hand at his own naked form. "I never wear the stuff."

  His laughter clearly relaxed the nervous Lycan, and Leland came closer towards Daimon. His eyes reflected his innate inquisitiveness.

  "You don't?" Leland asked, curious. "Then are you always invisible in the outside world?" As he negotiated his way into the room, the sheet billowed in his wake allowing tantalising glimpses of lithe, smooth legs, and Daimon bit back a groan. The boy would be the death of him.

  "No," Daimon replied, his voice dropping to a husky purr. "I just do this."

  As he walked towards the young Lycan, his horns vanished, leaving just the thick, lustrous back hair. His skin changed from red to a light golden tan. His long, black tail disappeared along with the harness he wore. Instead he appeared in jeans and a red, open-necked, brushed cotton shirt. He laughed at the stunned look on Leland's face.

  "I can move unseen, of course, and I often do. It is one of my talents. But if I see someone who catches my eye." He gave a slow pirouette and stopped to pose, hand on hip, his eyes hooded. "This is much more fun." His voice oozed sexual charisma.

  "May I touch?" Leland asked.

  Daimon grinned and nodded. He held still as the young Lycan reached his hand to touch the fabric of the red shirt.

  "Wonderful," Leland murmured. "It looks and feels so real."

  "But you can't do this, and you can't wander around like that," Daimon said decisively. His shaft throbbed and he had already taken care of his arousal twice that morning. "I need to go and get you some clothing. But first things first, I need you to think about Randy. I need you to be as open and as focused on him as you can be. Bring all your love for him to the surface. With the added boost from me, you should be able to contact him long enough for him to feel where you are and home in on you. Think of it as a psychic scent trail for him to follow."

  "Scent trail," Leland muttered.

  From the delighted smile on Leland's face, Daimon knew the Lycan could understand the idea of his mate-to-be following a trail, and it would be no hardship to think of the man he loved with all his heart and soul.

  As Daimon held Leland's hands it felt as though they physically left the confines of Daimon's home to reach out to Randy. For a second he felt Leland enfolded by the touch of his mate's love, and then the feeling vanished. He recognised the Lycan's feeling of euphoria threatening to give way to despair, and Daimon pulled him into a tight hug as the tears began again.

  "You didn't seem to need to search long," he assured as he leant back, wiping the tear tracks from the angelic visage. "That should mean Randy is close. You'll be together soon, angel." He waited as the lissom man took a determined, if shaky, breath and stood back.

  "Thank you," Leland said sincerely.

  "Welcome." The demon smiled. "Now, the kitchen is on the other side of the staircase. Help yourself to anything you want." He picked up a controller and showed it to his guest. One wall of books swivelled to become a huge plasma screen TV with a DVD player and another turned to become floor-to-ceiling DVDs and CDs. "Just pick whatever you like. I have a wide range. The doors and windows cannot be breached, and if anyone looks inside, all he or she will see is an empty room. You are safe here, but please stay inside."

  "I will," the blond promised.

  Daimon relished the soft giggle as he tilted Leland's head down and kissed the pretty Lycan's forehead, and Daimon felt the friss
on of heat that went through Leland's frame.

  He returned the Lycan's wave as they moved apart and vanished to leave just a dispersing wisp of red smoke in his wake.

  ****

  Looking at the collection of books and discs, Leland discovered that Daimon hadn't been joking. Some books looked hundreds of years old, others were contemporary. They covered a plethora of genres from war to sci-fi, from mystery to romance. He picked a gay romance and selected a DVD of a favourite film he was pleased to find in Daimon's collection. He made himself another steaming mug of coffee and settled to enjoy his selections.

  Something about Daimon made him feel safe and secure. He hugged himself as a vision of Randy came into his mind. The demon was right. It hadn't taken long to feel Randy. The feeling was more than he'd had for a long while and he believed Daimon. He believed it possible to be reunited with the man he loved.

  "I love you, Randy," he whispered aloud. "I'm waiting for you. Come soon, love. Come soon."

  ****

  As he materialised, Daimon caught sight of Leland's nostrils flaring when the Lycan looked up from his book. He was pleased that Leland had detected the slight scent of sulphur that preceded his appearance and associated it with him.

  He returned Leland's grin as the Lycan stood to greet him, and then Daimon heard a soft gasp as his friend saw the number of bags he carried. Most had exclusive shop or designer names, and Daimon happily pushed them all at the still stunned blond.

  "I didn't know what you'd like, so I got a good selection," Daimon said with a shrug.

  As the blond peered excitedly into bag after bag, Daimon smiled affectionately to see the young Lycan so happy.

  Leland held up a sky-blue silk shirt. "Daimon, if you're right, I might be here just a couple of days." He examined a pair of designer-name jeans.

  "Then they can be my wedding present. Call it your trousseau." He laughed. He was pleased when Leland laughed with him and surprised at the armful of blond that seemed to materialise out of nowhere almost as well as he could.