Burning Bright

Heyyy, sorry this took so long. I got obsessed with making slap tags instead of writing for a while. I post my art up anonymously in real life, too : D.

Part two is in the works, I promise!

...

Flynn

Going from deeply, happily asleep to wound tight, shot through with adrenaline, heart pounding and ready to power me through whatever threat had ripped me from my dreams wasn't really unusual for me. Those reactions had dwindled some over the years I spent safe and happy with my Shark, but it still happened. The encounter with Phoebus and the addition of second site premonitions to my usual divinely enhanced perception left me waking up in a panic more often.

"Bunny?" Owen mumbled from beside me.

I was panting and trying to shake off the image that yanked me out of sleep.

"Don't answer your phone," I replied. "Rot. Venom. Poison."

Owen's phone rang as soon as I said that. He sat up and eyed it warily.

"Lucas," he said.

"That's not Lucas," I rasped out around my aimless panic. I wiped sweat off my neck. Owen rubbed gentle circles on my back while I took deep breaths to regain my composure.

"What did you see?" he asked me quietly.

Oh, gods. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to give the horror any more thought than it already took.

"You," I said roughly. "You dead out somewhere dry and cold."

"What does me dead have to do with that phone call?" he asked.

"I don't know," I groaned. Intuition was vague enough that I just followed my guts without knowing why. I generally came out on top as long as I had faith. Premonition meant I had vague flashes of possible futures to untangle from all the choices that might lay ahead of us. It was frustrating and inexact, though occasionally useful. I seemed to mostly get images of Owen, Eli, and Lock with the odd stranger thrown in every now and then. Sometimes I called Eli to nudge him and Lock away from dangers or towards blessings.

"It's ok," Owen soothed me. "We'll figure it out. You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm ok," I said. I leaned in to put my head on his shoulder. Owen kissed the top of my messy pink hair. "Just needed to slow my heart down."

"Don't explode on me," Owen teased gently. "Stay right there. I'll get you some water. Are you cold? So you want another blanket?"

Gods, that man. I just told him I saw a vision of his dead body and something dangerous was calling him under the name of one of his oldest friends, but he still jumped to take care of me before thinking about that at all.

"I love you, Shark," I said instead of answering.

"I love you, Bun," he replied. "Water? Blanket? Anything else you need?"

"Water, please," I answered. "Thank you."

I sipped the cool water and watched him doing whatever it was he did to work his digital magic. He pursed his lips critically at whatever he found.

"That call came from Argentina," he said. "But Lucas just replied to me from Botswana."

Owen tapped his computer a few more times until two videos popped up along with scratchy audio. It took me a minute to understand that one video was looking up at a bar's ceiling, the other must have been covered by something, and the audio was the chaotic jumble of conversation in the room. Owen watched the video until a hand briefly covered the camera, the videos spiraled dizzily, one showing glimpses of the bar patrons around the room and the other finally landing on Lucas's familiar face.

"You tapped into Lucas's phone?" I asked Owen. He just chuckled and closed out the windows.

"Well, Lucas is definitely in Botswana and it looks like he's just fine," he said. "So that's one worry down. Idiot definitely got hacked. He gives out his number to anyone. I'll tell him to bug out."

"There's a desert in Argentina," I said slowly. "A cold one."

"Patagonia," Owen said. "Yep, dry and cold. So, what? Exposure? Freezing to death?"

I didn't want to tell him that the body in my vision had definitely suffered something far more violent than that. He needed all the information I could give him, though. There might be a clue I wouldn't recognize.

"No, um," I focused on that vision again. They always stuck in my mind like a knife until I untangled them. I reached out to him and tapped the center of his forehead. "There. Small caliber. Close. And a beating before that."

"Ooh, execution," Owen sounded almost excited. "Interesting. I wonder who wants me dead right now?"

"Does someone usually want you dead?" I asked. I stretched out on the bed and lay my cheek on his thigh. Owen stroked my hair in between typing and launching his various home brewed programs.

"Someone always wants me dead," he snickered. "Not sure who in Argentina would, though. I'll figure it out." He pushed the computer aside after a while and leaned down to kiss my forehead.

"You are amazing, Bun," he murmured. "My amazing wonder of a man."

"I'm not amazing, I'm devoted," I answered. The things I could do had very little to do with me, as far as I was concerned. It all came from my goddess and the devotion with which I served her. Owen waved that off.

"We might as well get up," he said. "We have a flight to catch and a wedding to attend."

"Oh!" I gasped and sat up. The giddy excitement of heading back to the Kings Canyon Temple to see Elijah and Lock pledge themselves to each other was enough to chase off the last vapors of panic.

The beautiful sound of Owen's fond laughter followed me as I bounced out of bed to get moving.

...

Owen

I wasn't that concerned about Flynn's vision of my violent death. There were pretty much always bounties on my head from someone I'd pissed off. Flynn was worried, though. He felt a little better when I ditched the leaked number along with any alias Lucas might have stupidly saved to his phone.

We flew from our home in the Appalachians to the opposite coast. Flynn's little brother loved the outdoors as much as my man did, but Eli chose to worship among the towering sequoias instead of the thick, dark woods of our mountain home.

Flynn paused outside of the pastoral grounds of the King's Canyon Temple to kneel and pray. He giggled when he stood back up and pulled me close under his arm.

"Your goddess say something funny?" I asked him.

"She says not to get too used to the messenger's peace and quiet," he chuckled. "Like I would ever stay in one place and grow flowers when I could be traveling the world with you to paint her shrines."

We found ourselves inside the tall, sunny lobby where a smiling priest greeted us. She swept us through the big main building full of classrooms, altars, and pilgrims and out into the sprawling grounds beyond. It was spring and the gardens were bursting with early green and busy with acolytes tending to the plants. Flynn was looking around curiously when a familiar figure threw himself into Flynn's arms.

"Flynn!" Eli laughed happily. Flynn grinned and lifted Elijah off his feet to crush him playfully.

"Hi, guys," Lock joined us more gracefully. He bumped my elbow with his and shook his head fondly at the two chosen brothers' giddy greetings.

"I need your opinion on something," Elijah said as soon as Flynn put him down. "Come on."

Elijah dragged Flynn off towards the trees without further explanation.

Lock shrugged and motioned for me to follow him into the mad scientist lair that served as his botany lab. I chose a corner and started to move the scattered equipment and unlabeled bottles over to make myself a space to set up my computer.

"Make yourself at home," Lock snickered.

"I will, thanks," I replied. "What's up with Eli?"

"He needs his big brother to calm his nerves," Lock said. He sat himself at another station and got back to the strange smelling mixture he was working on. "He's got himself convinced that he won't be able to say his vows."

"Ah, poor kid," I said, but I was distracted by the absolutely shocking amount of messages aimed at me on every platform I used. "Fucking hell."

Every message was titled some variation of the words, "you can't hide forever," and came from someone bearing a basic placeholder name from countries around the world - John Doe, Max Mustermann, Seán Ó Rudaí, and so on. There was also a really concerning SOS written in a code that I hoped Lucas hadn't been dumb enough to write down.

"You ok?" Lock asked.

"I need to make a call," I said slowly.

"The Abbot opened the apartment in the next building over for you and Flynn," Lock said. "Come on, I'll let you in."

He left me in a modest living room furnished with a basic couch and empty bookcases. I sat down and dialed the number Lucas sent me.

"Owen, hey," Lucas said breathlessly. "I'm sorry, man."

"You're sorry for what?" I asked pointedly. My stomach clenched. I felt cold.

"I made a mistake," he said. "I put some info up as collateral. I thought it was a sure thing."

"You put some information up as collateral," I said slowly. "And somehow that fucked me over? What did you have?"

"Everything. Everything you and I ever did," he nearly whispered. "All your contacts and the safe house you showed me. Everything I knew. That's, um, that's why I messaged. They know everything I know"

"You fucking idiot," I snarled. "You mean you offered me as collateral? What the fuck?"

"I know, I'm sorry," he said. I could hear the flinch in his voice. "I thought it was a sure thing."

"To who?" I demanded.

"Blight," he whispered shakily. "They're after me, too. I really fucked up."

"Blight," I repeated pointedly. "You just handed me over to Blight?"

"They have a picture of Flynn, too," he gritted out miserably. "It's part of the info packet on that bounty they just put out."

"You motherfucker," I snarled. "You backstabbing piece of shit. I should burn you to every government agency on this fucking planet. I'm fair game, but Flynn isn't part of this! Do you have any fucking idea what you just did?"

"I'm sorry, Owen," he started, but I cut him off.

"No, we're done," I snapped. "I'm not coming for you, but I'm done protecting you. You better find a way to get underground and stay there. Don't ever call me again."

I hung up. For a moment, I wanted to smash the phone as though destroying the device could erase the guilt of abandoning a friend. I gritted my teeth on the fury and devastation in my chest. I could have forgiven him just a few years before, before I had Flynn and the siblings he adopted for us. Before I had innocent people to protect.

I knew walking away was the right choice. I couldn't risk my family for Lucas.

The guilt still burned.

...

Lock

Owen looked absolutely furious when he came back to the workshop. He sat back down in the corner he'd claimed, put his elbows on his knees, and irritably ran his hands through his hair.

"Is your friend ok?" I asked. Unlike my dear Eli, I wasn't afraid of Owen. That might have been foolish, but I was generally a pretty good judge of character. I suspected his bite was actually a lot worse than his bark, but I also doubted he would ever bite me.

Owen sighed and looked up at me. His flat, gray eyes were tired and sad. Not really what I expected from him, but I rolled with it. Though I largely focused on horticulture and botany at that point in my life, I was a healer at heart. I could deal with emotional pain just as well as physical.

"He's not my friend anymore," Owen replied quietly. "And he'll probably be dead in a week."

I pulled one of the stools over to sit with him. Not too close. Just enough that he knew he had my full attention if he wanted it.

"Are you and Flynn safe?" I asked.

"For now," he sighed. "I'll need to go wreck some shit to remind everyone why I'm too dangerous to fuck with eventually. That can wait until after the wedding."

"Owen, if you're in trouble, we can push it back," I offered.

"No, we promised we would be here," Owen stated firmly, though he still looked grim. "You two already waited six months for us to free up some time. We're here for you and Elijah. This shit won't catch up to me any time soon."

We were quiet for a long time. Soft sounds of acolytes and priests working out in the gardens floated through the open workshop windows. Laughter. Happiness. A sense of purpose and belonging. Acceptance. Those were the most important things I cultivated in the gardens.

"I'm sorry about your friend."

"Yeah," his voice was a cracked whisper. "So am I."

...

Elijah

My crow joined us as I led Flynn to my favorite quiet clearing in the woods. She fluttered around him, cawing in greeting, and swooped up to the branches above to follow us. I settled on the carpet of decaying leaves far off the worn, meandering paths, out among the titanic trees of the pacific northwest. The air was still cool in the shade, but a warm, spring breeze carried the bright, warm smell of life.

I pulled a battered notebook from my robes to flip to a page full of chaotic writing. My big brother sat beside me in the dirt without a word. He tilted his head to read the scratchy attempts I'd made at writing vows. I wasn't great with words. Despite all my oracle training, speaking under pressure sent my heart rate to the stars. My crow settled on my shoulder and ruffled her beak through my hair.

"You want some help?" he offered. I nodded miserably. I wouldn't have called Flynn an expert at speaking under pressure, or speaking in general, but he definitely had a very descriptive way with words.

"I don't know how to even start," I said dismally. "It's not even suppised to be that long... but a whole life with Lock still feels like a dream. How do I explain that?"

Flynn picked up the pad of paper and flipped to a clean page. He held my pen poised to take notes.

"Ok, start with that," he said, scribbling in his nearly illegible script. "Tell me the life you want with them and all the ways you want to make them feel loved. Don't try to phrase it like a speech right now. Just say what feels instinctual. Birdsong. Crickets. Wolf howls. Animals don't have to think, it's just in their hearts. Be a bird."

I reached up to gently stroke the smooth, inky feathers of my own beloved bird. She didn't sing, but I understood what Flynn was getting at. My crow never second guessed expressing herself.

"I want Lock to know how happy he's made me," I started. "I want to make him just as happy. We can have a life full of flowers and dirt and sunshine. We can see the good in the storms. We found each other through the love of Lord Phoebus and the kindness of two strangers. I want to spend the rest of my life spreading that same love and kindness as far as I can, and I can't imagine serving without him by my side. Our lord told us that our union will be blessed. I want Lock to know he's more than a blessing to me."

"Beautiful," Flynn sighed happily. "Here, look. Bullet points. I'll help you sort them out."

I was so grateful for his love and guidance that I nearly teared up. I threw my arms around him in an awkward hug, disturbing my crow into a cranky flutter to the ground. Flynn chuckled and returned my embrace. I said a silent prayer of thanks to Phoebus for the hundredth time.

...

Flynn

I joined Owen in the cutest little garden apartment late in the evening after I helped Elijah get all his thoughts in a row. I was just so proud of him. My chest was bursting to see him growing into himself.

Owen smiled at me, but he looked exhausted. My joy darkened in the face of his distress. I went to him on the couch and wrapped myself around him. Owen chuckled and leaned on me with a sigh.

"What's wrong, Shark?" I asked quietly.

"Lucas is as good as dead," Owen said with a note of anger. "And he nearly dragged me down with him. Luckily, I'm a lot more careful than he ever knew how to be."

"Oh," I murmured. "I'm sorry. Lucas is, um..."

"He was an asshole, but he was there to help me when I started," Owen provided. "He's not the first hunter friend I've lost and he won't be the last. It's what happens in this work."

"It's still sad," I said.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed. Owen shuddered against me. When he spoke again, his voice was tight but he was smirking at me. "Did you find Elijah? Is he ready for tomorrow?"

"Shark, we can talk about Lucas," I told him. "You can tell me."

"I don't want to talk about it," Owen replied. "I just want to see you smile and hear about everything you saw in the woods today."

I took a chance and scooped him up in my arms to carry him to bed. Owen laughed in surprise and rolled his pretty eyes.

"Oh, are you big and strong?" he asked me.

"No," I replied. I gently set him on the bed and crawled in behind him. "I want to hold you and tell you about the pileated woodpecker I saw until you fall asleep."

"Aw, Bunny," he said fondly in that sweet, tired voice. "You are perfect. Thank you, baby."

"I'm not perfect," I chuckled and dragged him close. "I just love you."

"I love you, Bun. Tell me all about that woodpecker."

...

Elijah

I found Lock still working into the twilight hours when I returned. His beautiful face was a picture of concentration. Bright, icy blue eyes focused on a bubbling beaker, his notebook full of careful, meticulous print open in front of him, and his dye-stained hands busy with the work he so loved.

I leaned against the table next to him to wait. Lock would never be upset if I broke his concentration, but I cared about the work we did as much as he did. It was our service to Phoebus - developing pigments, medicine, and cultivating extraordinary harvests all to spread the love and joy of our lord.

I was still searching for my blessings after giving up prophecy to pursue a life with Lock. I wasn't the natural healer and scientist that my beloved was. Gardening was enjoyable, but there was no divine affinity with the plants. My crow was always at my side though the birds in the temple aviary seemed as interested in me as anyone else. I had no particular talents in music or art.

It was frustrating. I had been a prodigy as an oracle. A part of me felt I should be equally impressive with some other talent. There was guilt in that thought. I shouldn't care if I was special as long as I could serve Phoebus. It was there, though, and it was hard not to feel inferior next to extraordinarily blessed acolytes like Lock and Flynn.

Lock finished whatever it was that he was doing and smiled at me. He stood to fold me into his arms with a happy, contented sigh. He always smelled like plants and rich, dark earth. I leaned into his hold and buried my face in his shoulder.

"Hey, baby," he said. "How was your day?"

That was something he often asked if our duties for the temple kept us apart. I acted as his assistant in the workshop some days, but I also took my turns leading pilgrims in meditation, working the gardens, cleaning the aviaries, and tending to the temple in all its various needs.

"I cleaned up all the altars today," I told him. "Then I was out in the woods for my free hours to pray and try to write my vows. So it was very quiet until Flynn and Owen got here."

"How did that go?" he chuckled.

"It was hard," I answered honestly. "But Flynn helped."

"He's such a good big brother," Lock said. He gently separated us and led the way back to the little home we shared attached to the back of the workshop.

I loved those rooms. The many, many windows were only closed when the weather was too wet or too cold. Otherwise, our apartment was a continuation of the lush gardens outside. Lock kept plants in every room, sitting on the floor, suspended from the ceiling, and on every free surface.

Lock was tending to the plants. The sweet relaxation on his pretty, handsome, perfect face sent little tingles through me. I slipped up behind him to wrap my arms around his waist and drop my head on his shoulder. Lock chuckled, a deep, warm rumble that felt like a sip of rich cocoa on a cold day.

"You're so beautiful," I sighed happily.

Lock twisted in my arms to return my embrace. We were about the same height, but Lock was strong and broad in a way that made him feel so much bigger. He tilted my head back with his fingers under my jaw, giving me a dreamy, heart melting smile.

"You are gorgeous," he murmured. "My sweet, adorable man."

I played with his thick, long hair. He concocted his own mysterious potions and serums that left his dark tresses soft and silky. The way it fell in shiny waves reminded me of black coffee pouring into a mug. The combination of his lush hair with the scruffy beard he kept, the precise eyeliner he always wore, and his deliciously muscled figure all factored into a person so pretty that I could barely believe he was mine

His sweet smile turned into an amused smirk as we held each other. I knew exactly why. I wiggled enough to press the growing bulge in my robes to his thigh.

"I love how sweet you look talking to your plants," I giggled. "No turn on like a person whispering to their ferns."

"But the ferns are growing so well," he answered as he slowly wormed a hand between us to palm my quickly hardening dick. "My methods are clearly working."

"I would never doubt that," I said. I slowly moved us towards our bedroom while his hands explored my softer, leaner body.

"I'm sweaty and dirty, baby," he chuckled as I tugged at his robes. "Let me grab a shower."

"I don't care," I whined. "I've been thinking about how much I love you all day. Can I show you? Please?"

I had my hands worked into the top of his robes to caress his lightly haired chest. Lock gasped at the touch, then grinned at me.

"What do you want to show me?" he said. He let me loosen and drop the garment entirely. I groaned at the sight of my beloved there in his boxers, grinning at me and gently undressing me, as well. He purred and kissed my chest as he bared it, lightly nipping at my nipples and giggling at the reactions he had learned so well over the past few months.

I found myself flat on my back with Lock's tongue in my mouth and his strong, talented hands working my underwear down my thighs. I made quick work of his boxers and lifted my hips to allow Lock to toss the last bit of clothing keeping us apart off onto the floor.

He sat back on his knees between my legs, looking me over with a lovely, hungry fire in his eyes.

"Gods, Eli," he growled. "You look delicious right now."

"Just now?" I gasped in mock offense. Lock laughed and let me drag him down into my arms.

I tried to kiss him deeply enough for our complementary souls to click together. The sweet, needy sound he made as my hand moved down his body to slip through the slick wetness of his pussy twisted in me like a spring. I stopped long enough to tease the lovely, thick length of his T dick. Lock groaned and writhed against me. His eyes were distant and dreamy, like ice and sparkling geodes.

"Oh, Lock," I whispered reverently. "There's no one else in this whole world like you."

"Baby, there are plenty of people like me," he chuckled. "But being yours feels like I might be uniquely blessed. My sweet man. My adorable Eli. My perfect fit."

I shivered at that phrase. It had become something of a sacred prayer between us, two words that somehow summed up the improbable circumstances that brought us together and the unlikely happiness we both found. Two words that encompassed love in a deeper way than either of us had found another way to express.

"My beautiful Lock, my perfect fit," I agreed and gently, oh so carefully, slipped two fingers into that warm, welcoming wetness between Lock's thighs. He moaned softly and closed his eyes.

"Fuck, Eli," he gasped. "Oh, fuck."

I giggled at his sudden lack of grace. Lock was cool, confident, and capable in ways I could only imagine. Only I got to see this raw, desperate side of him. I leaned down while his eyes were still closed to take his dick in my mouth.

"Gods, Eli," he whimpered. "That feels so good."

I loved hearing my name fall from his pretty lips in that breathy, eager moan. I focused on finding exactly the right combination that rewarded me with his sweet gasps and growing moans. He let me lick, kiss, and suck him while my fingers explored his wet folds for longer than I knew. There was no time when I had Lock naked in my arms.

I would have happily stayed there all night, but Lock hauled me up and pushed me to my back again. I grinned at him and wiped my face.

"You made a mess," I teased him.

"I'll make a bigger one before we're through," he purred into my ear. He pressed me down and claimed my mouth. I was helpless to do anything other than enjoy the way he massaged my tongue and feasted on my moans.

He was still kissing me to stupidity when I felt him guide my aching, forgotten erection through the slick, hot lips of his pussy. We both gasped desperate, needy sounds into each others' lips as he took me in one thrust. I was speechless as always, feeling the tight, soft squeeze of his pussy and the pressure of his perfect body pushing me into the mattress.

We held each other like that, as close as physical reality allowed, gently kissing in the haze of our love. Lock finally pulled away. He liked to be on top and, to be completely honest, I loved to watch him ride me. He spread his knees wide and leaned back.

We started slowly, our eyes locked and a sweet smile on my beloved's face. I met his grinding undulation with thrusts of my own, eager to see him break for me. It was a wonder I hoped to never tire of.

Lock grinned and threw his head back, planting his hands on the mattress slightly behind his hips to give him that perfect angle. I whined at the depth, at the visual, at the flood and warmth between us.

"Lock, I can't," I gasped. He chuckled and guided one of my hands to his engorged dick, wrapping my fingers around it.

"Cum with me baby," he gasped. "Just like this. I want to feel you cum inside me."

That was it. There was no possible way I could hold back after that. Lock grinned as my vision went blurry. I felt him clench down on me, milking me for every last drop and he stroked himself with my useless hand. The flood that soaked me in warmth below sent shudders through me as my dick tried to twitch back to life. The sight of Lock with his head thrown back, his waves of dark hair loose and cascading around his shoulders, and his back bowed in pleasure seared itself into my brain.

He relaxed and pulled me into his arms as soon as he caught his breath. I sighed happily, pressing my ear to his chest to hear the pounding of his heart. My favorite music. My favorite work of art. My favorite person.

The next day, we would pledge our lives to each other and reaffirm our dedication to the service of our lord as a pair. I drifted off with that unbelievable fact in my mind, safe in his arms and happy down to my bones.

...

Owen

I had more concerning messages the next morning. I'd ditched every known phone number at that point, so I was at least avoiding calls. Several notes made guesses at my location, none managed to even put me on the right continent.

I didn't tell Flynn. He was nearly as giddy as Elijah. Those two were in the living room of our borrowed apartment practicing Eli's vows. The kid was nervous, but Flynn's giggly happiness was infectious. He was repeating the vows with excitement in no time.

I left them to check in on Lock. I doubted he needed anyone to calm his nerves. Lock was one of the few people I'd met that could match me on confidence. I found him working, of all things. His workshop smelled odd that morning, like the rot of old logs. Not bad exactly, but earthy and dark.

"Thought you would be getting pretty for this afternoon?" I asked him.

Lock looked up with a smirk.

"I'm already pretty," he laughed. "Eli might faint if I got prettier. You come to check on me?"

"Well, yeah," I answered. I settled in the corner I'd taken as my space without asking. "Flynn's taking care of his little brother, I came to check on my own sibling."

"Oh, is that how it works? Flynn adopted Eli so you adopted me?" He put down the work in front of him and stood to stretch as he spoke.

"Pretty much," I said. "So? Does my sibling need anything on this joyous day?"

"Nah," he chuckled. "Not unless you want to help me do my hair and makeup later, but you don't seem like the hair and makeup type."

"I'm not artistic like Flynn," I agreed. "But I'm good moral support if you can get past my sarcastic charm. Plus I've dated plenty of people who wore makeup. I'm not completely clueless."

Lock just laughed and motioned for me to follow him out into the gardens. He looked over the rows and beds as we chatted, encouraging his subordinates, giving instructions that were cheerfully received, and gently correcting as he went.

"Did you hear from your friend again?" Lock asked.

"I won't," I told him grimly. "I told him he was cut off. He'll either die or go deep in some backwoods hideout for the rest of his life."

"You can't help him?" Lock asked. He wasn't looking at me, and he didn't sound accusatory. That felt practiced, like the neutrality you would hear from a therapist casually challenging your poor decisions.

"You know the answer to that," I scoffed. Lock rolled his eyes and finally gave me his full attention.

"Is that because of the many unspoken rules of your mysterious trade or because you want to punish him?"

I knew my face was flat and cold right then. I knew from long experience that most people would be backing down from my obvious unimpressed annoyance. Lock wasn't most people. He just met my coldness with his own unimpressed look.

"It's both," I finally said. "Yeah, I could probably save him. I could at least make sure he had a real chance to save himself. But he put Flynn and you two at risk whether he knows that or not. He didn't even try to warn me that he fucked up. He doesn't get my protection anymore."

"Hm," Lock huffed and shook his head. "Sounds like some tit for tat playground bullshit to me, but you're the one who has to live with it."

"Gods, you're an asshole," I replied with a grim chuckle. "Yeah, I'll add this to the rest of my sins. Whatever god gets me in the end can take it out on my soul."

"The Muse gets you," Lock said. "Flynn bound your soul to his. You go where he goes unless one of you breaks that bond. Lucky you, he's a jealous goddess's favorite zealot, he'll probably have a pretty nice afterlife as her pampered pet. She won't absolve you of the guilt, though. That you'll feel for eternity."

"Aren't you supposed to be a ray of sunshine spreading joy and shit?" I point out sourly.

"Sometimes achieving joy means confronting difficult truths," he said and shrugged. "But you do whatever you think you have to do."

"Protecting my family is more important than whatever guilt this puts on my soul," I said firmly. "Leaving Lucas to reap what he sowed sucks, but I'll burn this whole world to the ground if his bullshit blows back on you, Elijah, or Bunny."

Lock tilted his head to one side thoughtfully.

"That's more noble than I expected," he said after a long moment. "I thought it was all revenge."

"I take care of my people," I said, but I didn't love how rough I sounded. "Lucas just forced me to choose between my people and I didn't choose him. I'm done talking about this. I came to see if you wanted company while you get ready or not."

"Sure," he said. "You can help me braid my hair."

...

Elijah

Oh, gods.

I was so nervous.

Tradition said I had to pray alone for several hours before our ceremony. Lock was doing the same in some other sequestered place. Tradition didn't say anything about my crow, though. She perched quietly on the altar of one of the small, secluded spaces maintained for pilgrims and temple devotees alike to pray.

I knelt on the floor with my head down. I was shaking too hard to light the incense or burn any offerings. I hoped Lord Phoebus would understand.

There was no guidance on what to pray for. I was already more certain about Lock than I was about anything else in my life. I chose to use my time to praise Phoebus for the many, many joyous blessings in my current life.

I was on my tenth round of listing even the smallest joys of my life when the door behind me opened. I expected a priest or possibly the Abbot. The grinning, happy face I saw was far more welcome in that moment.

"You're going to get me in trouble," I laughed softly. Flynn just grinned and knelt beside me.

"Your Abbot sent me," he said, carefully lighting the incense I hadn't been able to earlier. "I'm here to listen to any last minute fears, share your joy, call it all off and wipe your tears. You know, whatever you need after all that praying."

"Are you allowed to light offerings on another god's altar?" I asked him as the smell of roses filled the air. I felt a little tingly. That was Lock's handmade incense, imbued with his natural healing powers to encourage calm and clarity. Flynn sniffed the air with his head cocked to one side, obviously feeling the magic, as well.

"I'm allowed to help you light incense," he giggled. "My lady isn't worried that I'll jump ship over some nice smoke. So, any pressing thoughts we should deal with before you swear your life to Lock?"

"Just that I'm so blessed, so happy, and so nervous," I said shakily.

"Deep breaths," Flynn said, demonstrating a slow, calm breath. "Roses. Chamomile. A little bit of mint and clove. Lock's clever alchemy."

I slowly filled my lungs with scented air and my veins with tingly calm. Flynn stayed quiet, breathing with me until I was ready to speak again.

"Flynn, before I go out there, can I ask you for something?" I said when my heart was beating something closer to normal.

"Sure, anything," he answered immediately.

"Can you write me a blessing? Something to help me be brave?" I asked him. It felt like I was asking for a lot, but Flynn just smiled and dug around in his jacket pockets until he found a red marker.

"Right arm, push your sleeve up," he said, holding out one hand to take my wrist. He positioned my arm with acute focus, tracing his finger along one visible, blue vein to just below the crook of my elbow. He uncapped the pen with his teeth and gently moved the cool tip over my skin.

"Lady, I ask you to bless my brother," he said quietly. His eerie, dark eyes had gone unfocused. The heavy, crushing weight of his magic visibly pressed the incense smoke down to a hazy mist just above the floor. "Let him feel the love and pride I have for him. Let him find the strength to stand tall today. I ask for the courage he needs to find the excitement inside the fear."

I watched in wonder as he drew a complex, beautiful pattern on my skin, leaving behind a warmth that was nearly uncomfortable. He paused for a moment, seeming to be listening to something far away. A dreamy smile relaxed his intense focus. The air lightened around us, feeling almost fizzy as it faded back to normal.

"Glory," Flynn whispered. "Thank you, lady."

"She agreed to give me strength?" I asked him. He let go of my arm. I admired the lovely, geometric shapes as they cooled.

"You already have strength," he told me. "She's going to help you find it."

I threw myself at him in a big hug. Flynn giggled and crushed me in his arms in response.

"Come on, little brother," Flynn chuckled and hauled me to my feet. It was easy to forget he was tall and knotted with lean muscle in the face of his silly, caring nature. "Let's get you married to that hottie you landed."

...

I was speechless the moment Flynn opened the side door to the big sanctuary for me. Lock was in the doorway on the other side, smiling at me with his bright blue eyes dancing in his giddy mischief.

Lock looked stunning. His eyes were accented with intricate makeup and his luscious hair fell in perfect waves with a few braids at the sides, but it was more than that. It was the teary smile, the excitement, the pure love in his gaze. I found us both standing in front of the Abbot before I realized I moved. There was some giggling in the room. Maybe I ran to my beloved? That didn't seem out of the question. Lock held my hands to steady me. My crow swept over the gathered crowd to insert herself into the moment, perching on my shoulder and chattering happily.

"Are you ready?" he said quietly. I nodded, but words had all evaporated from my mind.

The Abbot started with a traditional blessing for the gathering. She then turned the service over to Lock. I'd forgotten that he was highly ranked enough to lead a gathering like that.

"Hey, baby," he started with a giggle that let some of the tension out of the room. "Only a few others in this room really understand how truly blessed we were to have met at all, and I think there's only four of us who know how hard it was to get to this point. Only you and I know how well our hearts fit together.

"My adorable, sweet Eli. My brave, resilient love. The most perfect of perfect fits. My heart was waiting for you and I never want to be without you again. In the joy and love of our lord, I pledge my life to you. In darkness and daylight, in the glow of the hearth and the roar of battle, I am yours. I promise to stand with you in service to Lord Phoebus for this life and any that come after."

Lock gently wiped my cheeks and squeezed my hands, nodding for me to take my turn speaking. I had expected to mumble my way through the vows I practiced. I expected to be crushed by my nerves. Instead, I felt excited, eager even.

"Lock," I started, "The life we have together is more than anything I ever imagined. You amaze me in ways I can only pray to be able to voice at least once in our lifetime. I'm so excited to spend the rest of my life serving next to you. We will have a future full of love and flowers, work and dirt and sunshine.

"My beautiful, brilliant Lock, I want nothing more than to spread joy and kindness by your side. In the joy and love of our lord, I pledge my life to you. In darkness and daylight, in the glow of the hearth and the roar of battle, I am yours. I promise to stand with you in service to Lord Phoebus for this life and any that come after."

Lock opened his mouth to say something, but my crow took the moment to caw pointedly and ruffle her beak through my hair. The silence in that room broke in amused laughter. I reached up to fondly stroke her feathers.

"Yes, you can be there too," Lock told the bird. "I doubt there's a power on this earth that could stop you."

The Abbot joined us again, chuckling quietly to herself. I barely heard the final prayer she spoke over us. I was too busy swallowing butterflies and looking into Lock's eyes. He gently drew my lips to his at some unheard cue from the Abbot. I giggled when he released me.

"It is willed," he said softly.

"Let it be so," I replied.

...

Flynn

I watched my little brother pledge his life to his beloved with a knot in my throat. Owen chuckled and leaned on my shoulder when he caught me wiping my face.

"What does your goddess do for weddings?" he asked me softly.

"I don't know, but we're already bound," I pointed out. "That's closer than any temple blessing could make us."

With that joyous goal complete, we needed to leave. Besides the new crisis with whatever Lucas pulled us into, my lady was itching for me to get away from Phoebus's sanctified ground. I could do minor magic there and pray, but anything more would push even a kind and welcoming god's patience. And, despite the kind accommodations out in the gardens, the constant friction of outside spells against my own magic was starting to really hurt.

Owen and I quietly packed our backpacks and went to tell our friends goodbye. We found Eli and Lock sitting together in the gardens as the sun dipped towards early evening. They both smiled and welcomed us to join them. I sat, feeling intense dread just knowing I was about to disappoint Elijah on such an important day.

"That was a beautiful ceremony," Owen said when I failed to make any words.

"But now you two have to leave," Lock finished for him. "We know."

"Sorry," I said with my eyes on my hands.

"Don't be sorry," Elijah said. "I know it's hard for you to stay in the temple. Thank you so much for being here."

"We'll come back when we can," I offered quietly. Eli's ready acceptance of my strange life felt a little like hero worship I was sure I didn't deserve.

"Owen promised us another vacation," Lock pointed out with a laugh. Owen scoffed theatrically, but I looked up in time to see him grinning.

"Yeah, give us a few months to sort some shit out," Owen said. "Then pick a place you want to see."

"The cabin," Eli said immediately. "I want to take Lock to the cabin."

"Oh," Owen sounded a little confused. "That's easy. I'll copy the keys and mail you a set. You two don't need us to go out there unless Bunny has a spiritual reason you can't be there without him."

"Just don't make altars or sanctify anything," I said and shrugged. "My lady considers you two to be allied to me. Kind of makes you a little bit hers. Symbiotic. Mutually beneficial coexistence. She'll tolerate you on her grounds like Phoebus tolerates me on his."

"There," Owen said happily. "Whatever that means sounds like you can go whenever you want."

"You godless types always seem to forget this," Lock snickered, "but acolytes don't have cash laying around for plane tickets across the country. We definitely have to wait until you have the urge to pay our way again."

Owen rolled his eyes and started to root around in his backpack. He came up with one of the many, many phones he carried. He unlocked it and tapped at the screen for a bit, then snapped a tiny chip into a miniscule slot in the side. Once he was satisfied, he offered the phone to Lock.

"A phone?" Lock asked in confusion. "I don't really need one."

"No phone I hand you will ever just be a phone," Owen said. "Elijah's has permanent GPS tracking that can't be disabled and works whether the phone itself is on or not so Bunny doesn't have to worry about his little brother so much. The one I just gave you has a digital wallet attached to one of my accounts. Now you have money for whatever you want."

"Owen," Lock started warily. "I wasn't asking for a blank check."

"I know you weren't," Owen said dismissively. "And that's not a blank check. That's insurance. That's a backup plan to make sure you can get whatever you need to keep yourself and Eli safe. That's the resources to hold you over until Bunny and I can get back to you. It's peace of mind knowing you two are taken care of when I can't be here. And it's plenty of money for you to live out some of those wild, plant-based dreams of yours."

"We're acolytes of Phoebus," Lock said gently. "It's not a dangerous life."

"I take care of my people," Owen said and shrugged. "Welcome to the family. I won't actively track you unless you disappear."

"Um, thank you?" Elijah said doubtfully.

"Just take it," I advised. "Shark is a lot nicer than he acts. Generosity makes him happy."

"I'm not nice," Owen groused. "I'm overprotective. Speaking of, we have to get moving. I need to get ahead of this shit."

Elijah hopped up and hugged me fiercely.

"Be fast and clever," he said softly.

"Always," I assured him. "Be happy. Love you, little brother."

"Love you, big brother," he replied and released me. Elijah faltered at saying goodbye to Owen, still a little unsure of my sarcastic, confident man. Lock laughed and dragged Owen into a rough hug.

"Bye, asshole," Lock snickered.

"So loving, so joyous," Owen scoffed, but he still hugged them back.

...

Owen kept me at the center of his life, but his work was still largely a mystery. The way he coldly strategized, hunting and prowling, felt both completely natural and inexplicably alien.

We were in Kansas, somewhere out among the corn and prairies, in an unassuming little farmhouse that hid a warren of underground chambers beneath it. Those subterranean rooms were outfitted for a very uncomfortable, but very secure, long term stay in addition to housing an astounding amount of unidentifiable tech. It proved to be a tiring place to sleep.

I wandered the dusty, cinder block rooms, seeing but not comprehending the shelves of gadgets and gear squirreled away by my man for exactly this kind of situation. Owen wasn't talking. He was on the dirty floor of one dim room, surrounded by racks of whirring servers and pummeled with the roar of too many fans that vented to the fields above us. I found my own corner, as far from the din of his tech as I could get, and knelt to pray.

"Lady, I know this is the wrong place," I whispered. She didn't really need me to speak out loud, but I often felt it helped me organize my thoughts better. "I can consecrate a space here and paint for you. I'll go back to the streets as soon as I can."

I did not expect her to show herself in those ugly underground cells. My lady preferred nature and beauty. She liked to hear running water and birdsong when she spoke to me and she would happily make me walk miles to find her the right place. That didn't mean she couldn't join me anywhere, though.

Her presence crushed my lungs. I braced myself for the struggle and held my position as my joints began to grind.

I have been patient, zealot, she warned. Leave the heretic to his work and return to yours now.

"Lady, please," I gasped. "He's in danger. I can't leave him now."

You can and you will, she intoned coldly. I swallowed a whimper as she dropped her heavy hands to grip my shoulders. The impossible heat of her being radiated like a sunburn on my face. Or I will remove that impertinent distraction entirely.

"Yes, lady," I whispered. I wasn't sure how much she controlled the images of premonition that jumped into my head, but, if she chose those visions, cruelty could be the only explanation for the ghosts of gore I saw in the futures where I chose to disobey. "Where should I go?"

Anywhere with people. Her dismissive scoff felt like a blow to my guts. I gagged and held my breath to keep my reaction minimal. There's no glory in all this corn.

She was gone.

...

Owen

Flynn quietly came to sit beside me on the floor. He leaned his head on my shoulder and waited in silence for me to finish my task. That would annoy me if it was anyone else. Bunny, as always, got all the patience I couldn't locate for anyone less than my favorite person in the world.

I looked up from my war plans only to feel my heart sink. Flynn's face was bloody from a nosebleed and smeared across one cheek. That wasn't that unusual. The real shock were the tear tracks diluting that blood into pink rivulets. I clawed my headphones off and dropped them to the concrete.

The room was too loud for me without the headphones, so it had to be excruciating for Bunny. I took his hands and led him from the room, shutting the door behind us and taking him to the semi comfort of a room with a handful of cots and a nasty, ragged couch to sit on. Flynn followed and sat obediently, but he was shaking hard.

"Bunny? What's wrong?" I asked with my hands tracing soothing lines down the muscles of his arms.

"I have to go," he whispered.

"I need to get this shit sorted out first," I argued.

"She'll kill you," he responded dismally. "She'll kill you with my hands. I saw it. She's done it before. It's like a nightmare, my body moves and my voice isn't mine. I watch myself from inside. Like rabies. Madness. Blood and fear and betrayal. Saturn devouring his son. It's... it's..."

I wrapped my arms around him and let him calm down while I silently seethed. My sweet, gentle Bunny, the kind man who sobbed over killing mindless monsters in the deadly maze of the Labyrinth. The one who risked his life to save a kid he didn't even know. I tried not to imagine what ifs for him. It didn't matter that he could have had a soft, kind life if only anyone had been there for him when he was a kid. We had what we had. I could make soft places for him to land, but I couldn't fix the world.

"Ok," I said softly. "It's ok. Your aliases are all still clean. You won't be so recognizable if you dye your hair back to brown and switch the punk outfit for dockers and a sweater for a bit."

Flynn shook his head and clutched me harder. He was trying to tell me something, but his words weren't catching up to his mouth. He mumbled a bit and then growled in frustration.

"Deep breath," I whispered to him. "We're both safe right now. I'm right here with you for as long as you need. Take your time."

Flynn breathed deep, shaking breaths against my shoulder until his heart stopped pounding. He slowly let me go to pull back enough to see my face.

"You just lost a friend," he said quietly. "And you're in trouble now. I don't want to leave you like this, but I don't have a choice."

"I'll be ok, I promise," I told him. I gently wiped the smear of blood and tears off his face. Flynn blinked another run of teardrops from his dark, enchanting eyes. "You sweet man. I did this alone for a long time. Go make your goddess happy. I'll catch up."

"I'll go to whatever city is closest," he said begrudgingly. "I can get there myself and leave the car for you."

"Wichita," I provided. "Take the car and rent a room. Don't hitchhike and sleep on the street, Bun."

Flynn grinned at that and gave me a surprised, wet chuckle.

"I'll be a pigeon if I want to be," he said.

"You're feral whether you sleep on the street or not," I teased him. "Take the car and use your credit cards. Eat. Take care of yourself. I'll be mad if you lose all that muscle to malnutrition while you're on your own."

"I had this muscle when you met me," he pointed out. "Now I have fat on top of it. Too much hot chocolate."

I rolled my eyes at that. Flynn was the hottest man I'd ever met no matter what.

"Are you ok?" I asked, tilting his head back and wiping his face off again.

"I'm ok," he said. "But I have to go now."

I held my hand out for his phone. He handed it over without hesitation. Flynn's phone, which was obviously a lot more than a phone, had several special homebrewed features. Unlike Elijah, Bunny had the option of turning off his GPS, but it still worked independently of the phone's battery. It also had an instant SOS feature that would set off basically every alarm I had and immediately turn on both front and back cameras along with the microphone. He knew about both of those features.

He probably didn't know that the phone disrupted other signals, passively scrambled digital and analog recordings, and had a sensor set to alert me if he stayed in one place for too long. I asked if he wanted to know all the ways I could access it when I gave him the phone, but Bunny had just shrugged and put it in his pocket. He didn't really care if I tracked him.

I checked that all of that was in working order and connected his tap pay to several of the backup accounts, just in case.

"Ok, you're good to go," I said, giving him the phone back. "Be careful, Bunny. Change your clothes and dye your hair as soon as you can. Keep your eyes open for tails. Don't sleep anywhere you can't lock and easily escape."

"There's no bounties on me and I can kind of see the future sometimes. I'll be safer than you are," he pointed out. He let me go to stand up and lose his very recognizable decorated jean jacket. "Will you hold onto this? It takes a lot of space in my backpack."

I took the jacket and put it on myself. It swallowed me and covered my hands, but it smelled like spray paint and Flynn. It felt like wearing a piece of his soul.

"There may not be bounties on you, but you are a possible weak spot to get to me," I told him seriously. "Your picture is in the bounty info. You would be my first target if I were hunting someone like me."

Flynn shuddered and shook his head like a dog shaking off water. He dragged me up from the couch and gently kissed me.

"Are you staying here until you do whatever it is you're doing?" he asked me. I winced and looked away.

"No, Bun," I said carefully. "I need to do some of this in person. They have to remember why they don't fuck with me."

He frowned and turned my head so I had to look at him.

"Why? You're not exactly threatening in person," he pointed out.

"Ah, well, you haven't ever seen it, but I can be pretty scary when I need to be," I said vaguely.

"What does that mean?" he pressed on.

"It means that I used to hurt people in really creative ways," I admitted. "Apparently my reputation isn't as strong as it used to be. I'm going to find where the people who are after me are hiding and hit them hard."

Flynn nodded, but he looked conflicted. That sweet boy.

"Go on, go paint your miracles," I told him. I stood on my toes to kiss his forehead. "I'll find you after the dirty work is done."

...

I didn't love the idea of Flynn going off on his own with the wolves at my door, but I wasn't eager for him to see what I was about to do, either. The lesser of two evils, I supposed. Bunny was smart, he had survived over a decade alone on the street, and he had a particularly possessive goddess watching him.

I put him in the small SUV I rented and made him promise he would take care of himself before letting him go. I sighed and clomped back down to the dismal dungeon of my last resort shelter.

I was getting close to the point where I could launch my plan. It helped that Lucas had given me a headstart with the organization I needed to break.

Ah, Lucas. That guilt was still an ember in my chest.

I take care of my people.

Yeah, until they betrayed me. Until they proved themselves untrustworthy. Until, until, until.

Oof.

Without thinking too hard, I messaged Lucas a string of numbers and a set of coordinates along with two short sentences: A hideout and the cash to get there. Never call me again.

I waited. If the message went unread, it meant Lucas was dead already. It meant I waffled too long. Tainted relief flooded me when the message turned blue, showing it was opened.

I got a three sentence reply: Thank you. I'm sorry. You'll never see me again.

Well, it was better than throwing him out in the cold.

...

Elijah

My blessings did not include healing, but I still liked the days Lock and I spent volunteering in the hectic, multi-faith free clinics. Most altruistic temples happily volunteered the talents of their acolytes in exchanges like that. We shared our skills to better serve our deities by caring for any pilgrims who needed help.

Lock was among the other healers. He was always lovely, but the relaxed, gentle way he administered to the sick and scared patients cast him in a golden glow of beauty. I forgot my own work, just watching him soothe a small child with silly jokes while he carefully knitted a nasty gash on her leg back together with magic.

"Hey, messenger's boy," snapped the man that was supervising those of us who couldn't heal.

I was supposed to be sorting health and hygiene supplies out into small bags. Those bags would eventually be distributed to the unhoused populations in Fresno and other close cities.

"Stop staring at your boyfriend and get back to it!"

The other acolytes around me, a grab bag of devotees in a rainbow of different temples' robes, chittered in laughter. I felt my cheeks flush in shame, but I kept my eyes down on my task. The bags were nearly full when familiar, warm hands settled on my hips and the grassy, green smell of my favorite person washed over me from behind.

"What's wrong?" Lock whispered into my ear.

"Nothing. I just got called out for not paying attention," I said. "I'm fine."

"Wait, is Lock actually your boyfriend?" asked the priest in dusty pink robes beside me. He seemed impressed by the idea.

"I'm his spouse," Lock answered for me. His arms slipped around me to pull my back flush to his chest.

"Oh," the man chuckled. "We thought he was just perving on you."

Lock scoffed and pulled me away from that station over to where he was working.

"Be my assistant," he said softly. I looked down at the baffling array of medicines, tools, and supplies in front of me with that tickle of inferiority that always plagued me.

"I don't know how," I whispered. "And that supervisor might get mad at me again."

Lock tilted my chin to look up into his bright blue eyes. The sad, soft look on his face soothed some of my nerves.

"I don't usually like to point this out, but I outrank him and everyone else in this tent," Lock said. "He can't stop me. No one treats my love poorly. I'll teach you how to assist over here."

I relaxed into the familiar pattern of Lock instructing me. His patience and love always made me forget my natural anxious awkwardness. He made me feel like I belonged there at his side. He reminded me that I deserved a chance to learn.

We walked out to the battered old truck at the end of our shifts. It belonged to the temple, really, but Lock was the only one who ever chose to drive it over the handful of more modern vehicles available to us. We were comfortably quiet as we drove through the darkening forests.

"Thanks for letting me help," I said. "I hope I figure out my blessings soon so you won't have to keep saving me."

"Do you want to take a break from the workshop and gardens for a while to try some other things?" Lock asked me. My stomach dropped. Even my own spouse knew I had no talents worth sharing. I bit down on my lip and tried to answer.

"Eli?" Lock glanced at me.

"I can find something else to do if I'm in the way," I whispered roughly.

His eyes widened and he immediately pulled off to the side of the road. He dragged me across the old bench seat into his arms.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," he said with his voice full of devastation. "I just meant that you should try anything that interests you. You don't have to stick with just what I do. I can handle the workshop alone again."

"I don't know what else to try," I mumbled into his robes. "Maybe Phoebus didn't accept my pledge as an acolyte. Maybe I'm supposed to be a priest."

"It's ok if you are," Lock said softly. "You're the man I love no matter what. Our union is blessed. We will serve together with whatever roles come to us."

"Lock, um," I cleared my throat and sat up straight. "This is going to sound like I'm serving myself instead of our lord..."

"I'm listening," he urged me.

"I was a prodigy as an oracle," I muttered. Shame at my own pride clouded my heart and sat heavily on my chest. "I don't regret giving it up, but it's hard feeling like I'm, um, maybe just... average? I just assumed another blessing would take the place of prophecy. I never thought that I wouldn't be special anymore."

"Oh, Eli," he sighed sadly. "You're special whether you have magical blessings or not. I'm not actually that strong in magic. Lord Phoebus gave me a knack with plants and a love of research. There's no magic there, it's just hard work and the way my brain is wired. Maybe magic isn't in your blessings now. That's ok. You've been great at everything you've tried so far, but it sounds like you aren't fulfilled by your duties. I was suggesting you try other things around the temple to see if any of that is where your heart is happiest."

"Can I, um," I started, then chickened out and shook my head. "Never mind."

"No, tell me," Lock urged me. "What do you want to try?"

"I don't know if it's allowed in our temple," I said unsurely.

"Baby, I helped your unregistered zealot brother lift our temple limits so you could speak directly to our lord," he laughed. "I'm not going to report you for just asking a question."

"Flynn showed me a bit about how he reads and constructs sigils," I said. "I want to try that. I want to learn to write new spells."

Lock beamed at me. His pretty, happy smile let some of that tension out of my chest.

"You can do that!" he said. "There's not anyone dedicated to that kind of study at our temple, but there should be enough in our library to get you started and I can help up to a certain point. You could even learn from Flynn if you want, but we'll need to do that off temple grounds. We could probably travel with them for a while if they don't mind. The Abbot would let us as long as we find places to volunteer and help people while we're away."

"I couldn't ask you to spend a year away from the gardens," I argued. Lock arched a shapely eyebrow at me like I had missed something obvious.

"Why did you not meet me until six months after you joined the temple?" he chuckled.

"Um, you were on field missions?" I said doubtfully.

"Right. I was on field missions for a year. I do that fairly often. That's how I learn new things and share what I've found," he said. "I volunteer at clinics, write blessings, and meet other botanists while I travel. That's what a field mission is. The gardens will be there when we get home. I'm not so important that the flowers need me to grow."

"Oh," I laughed a little at myself for not putting that together. I tilted my head up to kiss him, dragging my fingers through his silky hair. "Thank you for being so patient. I'll figure myself out soon so you can get back to your research."

"Eli, love, I'll spend the rest of my life trying new things with you if that's what you need," he sighed. His crystal blue eyes were sad as he gently stroked my back. "You aren't a burden. You aren't bothering me. You aren't stopping me from my own work. We are partners. Lord Phoebus himself told us our union is blessed. Let's find joy in service together."

There were no words big enough to explain the way Lock's love filled me with warmth. I pressed myself to him, breathing in the herbal smell of his skin.

"Thank you, lord," I whispered in prayer. "Thank you for blessing me with my perfect fit."

"It is willed, let it be so," Lock replied happily.

...

Flynn

As much as I hated to leave Owen behind, it still felt good to be on the night streets with my paint on my back. My steps didn't rattle the cans unless I wanted to be heard. I'd learned how to walk silently a long time before.

Wichita was a sprawling, low city, mostly miles upon miles of neighborhoods, red brick commercial buildings, and a scattering of small parks. I'd never been there before, but I found where I needed to be. I'd already left a handful of large paintings tucked away in sheltered corners of the dark street. My lady wanted something showier, though, so I was scouting for a more visible option.

I had already climbed up to my potential canvas - a billboard next to a wide, raised interstate that seemed to function as a major artery for the daily rushes. I sat on the platform around it with my boots hanging over the edge. The city looked pretty from that vantage point, like a field of lights sprouting from the gently rolling hills. My imaginary crop of lights was tainted by the heavy, musty scent of too many cars and too much asphalt that clung to the warm spring night.

A flash of premonition jolted me from my musing, but it carried with it nothing but a sense of dullness and boredom along with an image of a woman doodling on a notepad in a bland beige office. Hm. Someone would be bored in Wichita the next day. What useful information.

I sighed and dug around in my backpack for the color I wanted. My lady joined me as I painted, filling the air with the heaviness of her presence and the effervescence of her pleasure. She loved to watch me worship. I carefully laid the sigil that would funnel admiration for the painting into praise for her, then let my brain drown in the haze to paint by feeling. I blinked back into consciousness to find myself facing a painting of a crow with stars on her wings, spreading a galaxy out behind her. The warmth of my lady's approval lifted my heart, then she was gone.

I snapped a picture of the painting and texted it to Elijah. He'd get a kick out of my subconscious painting pictures of celestial crows. I hopped back down to the ground to begin the long walk back to my lonely hotel room. Elijah called me a few minutes later.

"I showed my crow that you painted her picture," he said. "She didn't care."

"Ah, to be scorned by my muse is to know real pain," I giggled dramatically.

"I know you can't right now," he said, "but do you think you could help me learn to write spells? Maybe next year? Lock and I could travel with you and Owen for a few months if you wouldn't mind the company."

"Of course!" I answered immediately. "But what I do is kind of, um, different than what you would use in a temple. Like, more experimental. The quantum mechanics of applied magical practice. I can help you learn the technical side of it, though. Construction. Grammar. Common languages."

We chatted about how he could get started on his own for a while until something tugged at me to get off the call. I ended the conversation cheerfully enough to not tip off Eli and pocketed my phone.

Someone was definitely following me. I hefted my backpack and kept walking, but I was listening. My intuition was whispering softly, urging me to stay casual. There would be an opportunity if I paid attention.

I followed my feet to a dark park full of baseball and soccer fields. There were hazy, buzzing lights on weathered poles infecting the darkness with unhealthy, yellow light. I walked the paths between caged baseball diamonds and weedy soccer fields. I stopped where my feet stopped me, in a pool of the sickly light.

"You're Flynn, right?" The voice was reedy and accented. The man that went with it stepped out of the darkness to lean on the lightpole. He was shorter than me, but broad and thick. The man who followed him was redheaded and thin.

I didn't answer them.

"He's in disguise," the redhead snickered. "That's him, though. The creepy black eyes give him away. Our lucky day, huh? Just wandering around alone in Kansas?"

"Where's your little boyfriend?" the man asked. The redhead was edging around, trying to get behind me. I stepped back to put my back against the tall fence behind some little league's home plate.

I stayed quiet. My intuition led me there, so I wasn't too worried. I needed to run into this particular trap for some reason. So I waited and I listened. The reason would eventually present itself.

"I heard he was weird," the big guy said. "Did anyone say he can't talk?"

"Who knows," the other scoffed. "Owen's got more money than the gods, though. He could buy himself a better trophy boy. Word is he's pretty attached to this one, though. Should be good enough to get him out of his hidey hole."

"Maybe that one has a big dick?" the redhead mused like I wasn't there. "I hear the weird artsy ones fuck like real freaks."

I ignored their attempt to bait me. Second sight images snapped in my head. Maybe futures too numerous for me to sort out. The average of all of them all came to one ending, anyways. I was about to give Owen the clue he was missing, but it would be paid for with blood.

Still ignoring the two strangers, I drew my utility knife from my boot. They both exclaimed, telling me they would hurt me unless I went with them willingly. That didn't seem important enough to acknowledge as I focused on the sigils carved into the hilt of my knife and tried to listen for the right target.

The redhead hummed with magic in my mind. I could feel him preparing to call on his deity, the gathering eeriness like storms on the horizon. That was a good enough sign for me. I flicked the knife at him and activated the spell laid into it. That particular spell was one of my least favorites. The only point of imbuing a knife with speed like that was to kill.

There was a sound like a butcher's blade dismantling a carcass. I kept my eyes on the big guy. I already knew what my knife did when I activated that spell and aimed well. No one had ever survived it.

"What the fuck...?" the big guy muttered, too stunned to muster a scream. He stumbled back, away from the mess I'd made of his friend. "What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK?"

I needed that one alive for the next part. I rushed him in the confusion, hoping to take advantage of his stumbling and shock. He realized far too late that I was moving. Whatever he reached for in his jacket went unfound as I called on my gifts and started to sift through his mind.

He gasped at the intrusion, trying to wrench away, but I was already pouring the full weight of my lady's blessings into his head. Tears sprang up in his eyes. He shuddered, immobile and terrified, as I flipped through his thoughts without much care. The tear tracks slowly tinted pink, then became streaks of deep crimson.

My hands were on autopilot, guided by intuition alone. I found the gun he had attempted to pull and stashed that in my waistband. I shoved him down to the dirt and fished a pen and notebook from my backpack.

He wasn't going to recover if I kept pushing. I knew that. I could feel it. My guts told me to take what I needed and deep fry his brain in the process. My heart ached at the thought of taking another life. There was a reason my lady chose me, though, and my kind heart wasn't it. I listened to her guidance, taking notes until the only thing I found in his head was sizzling tv static. Leaving him there on his knees and drooling in the dirt, I finally turned to look at what I'd done to the redhead.

There wasn't much left of his head. That's to be expected when a large, sharp object hits someone in the face at the speed of a small caliber handgun. I found my knife stuck in the wooden fence a few yards behind, buried a respectable, but not too unusual, depth for a thrown knife. It was exactly as sturdy as it had always been despite its trip through a man's skull. I wiped the blood off on the drooling guy's jacket, sheathed my knife, and followed my feet back to the hotel.

...

Owen looked both relieved and concerned when I showed back up at the dingy little farmhouse just a few days after I left. He took in the distance in my eyes, the droop of my shoulders, and the hesitance of my smile with a wary look.

"What happened?" he asked me gently. His hands pulled me close. Blessedly familiar hands. The ones that took care of me. His sharp gray eyes searched my face for a hint of what had me so off-kilter. Kind eyes. Warm and soft like a favorite sweater. I closed my own eyes and shuddered.

"I have notes for you," I said tightly. "And I can describe the two guys I got the information from."

Owen didn't look at the notebook I offered him. He took it and tucked it away among the scattered electronic bits that littered the worktable in the basement, then led me to the only soft piece of furniture in that dank hole of a hideout.

"What happened?" he asked me again. His hands stayed on mine. I was more grateful for the soft way he stroked my fingers than seemed reasonable.

"There were two, um," I looked around, trying to spot that notebook. "The names are in those notes somewhere. But two. They wanted to take me as bait for you. I, um, I..."

I trailed off and shuddered again. My face felt tight and hot.

"You had to protect yourself, Bun," he assured me. "You did what you needed to do."

"I followed my intuition out there," I muttered. "I maybe could have avoided it."

"If your intuition took you wherever you met them, then it was the best possible option. They might have ambushed you, otherwise," he pointed out. "Are they going to be able to tell anyone they saw you or what you can do?"

"No. One is brain dead and the other is, um, he doesn't have a skull anymore," I said shakily. "I don't like to hurt people."

"I know, Bun," he said. "Sounds like we need to stick together. Hopefully your goddess will be satisfied with whatever you painted in Wichita until I figure out where we're going."

"There's something you need in that notebook," I told him. "Our next move. They were members of Blight. Insiders. Eager henchmen."

"You're a wonder, Bunny," he said proudly. I didn't feel like a wonder. I felt like a monster. I let Owen kiss my forehead and bounce off to decipher my notes.

...

Owen

La Paz, Bolivia was a stunning city. I'd been there a few times, but Flynn had never seen the glittering metropolitan wonder set against a backdrop of the snowcapped Andes. I was watching him stare out the plane windows as we passed over those peaks. Even then, knowing we were headed to the city so I could defend our safety with no small amount of violence, my Bunny found wonder in the world around him.

"Oh, wow," he whispered. "Shark, look at the mountains!"

"I see them," I chuckled. He was so excited, like we didn't spend all of our downtime out in the mountains. "You can ride the cable car to El Alto and get a good view, if you want."

"There's cable cars here?" Flynn gasped. That sweet boy.

"The biggest network in the world, I've heard," I told him. "Um, Mi Teleférico. You can take them all over the city."

We made our way out of the airport and to our hotel. I got started on setting up my war room and making a list of materials I needed to acquire. It was generally easier for me to assemble the more dangerous equipment I would need once I had a base established than it was to sneak suspicious items into a country.

Flynn was out on the balcony, grinning at the cityscape and enjoying the fresh, warm breeze. I joined him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Flynn giggled and pulled me around to stand in front of him where he could encompass me in his long arms.

"This view is incredible," he sighed.

"I'm glad you like it," I chuckled. "I'm going to be busy for a while. You feel free to explore, but keep your eyes open. I think we got here unseen, but there's always the chance that someone will recognize you on the street like they did in Kansas."

"I could disguise myself better, maybe," he said thoughtfully. "They said my creepy eyes give me away."

"Your eyes aren't creepy," I scoffed. Those guys were already dead or close to it. I still wanted to knock them down for insulting my Bunny.

"Well, kind of creepy," he giggled. "They're too dark. Like a rabbit. I should get some sunglasses."

"Why are they so dark?" I asked curiously.

"Genetics?" he guessed. "I don't know. I never met my parents. Maybe my mom and dad had creepy black eyes, too."

"Hm, I thought maybe your goddess did that to you," I admitted. His eyes weren't truly black, just an unusually dark brown. I loved the way his gaze felt piercing and intense, like he could see my soul with just a glance.

"I don't think so," he said. "Maybe she was influencing me earlier than I know? I was a difficult enough kid that no one would have really noticed it. My brain was never right. All the foster families wanted me out as quick as possible, no one would have seen any patterns."

"Bunny," I sighed. I hated to hear him talk about himself like that. He laughed when he said it, like the neglect of his childhood was a funny quirk of his past and not a tragedy. "Your mind is amazing. All those people were idiots for not seeing that."

"I'm ok, Shark," he said fondly. "You don't have to save little me. I got my happily ever after."

I hummed doubtfully, but I let it go in favor of slowly moving him back inside and walking him back into a wall. Flynn giggled that adorable, eager laugh as I boxed him in with my arms, looking up at him with a suggestive smirk. Maybe he didn't want me to save his inner child, but I definitely wanted to demonstrate my appreciation for the incredible man who fell into my life.

I had to stand on my toes to kiss him. That never seemed to bother Flynn. He melted for me every time, giving me his sweet eagerness back through that kiss. I leaned in to brush his ear with my lips.

"You're prettier than that view," I growled softly. "Show me those muscles, baby. Let me see all those tattoos."

Flynn grinned and scrambled to comply. I stepped back just enough to give him room to lose his layers. I couldn't help but growl as his skin was revealed. Beautiful, tan skin covered in shaky stick and poke tattoos, all covering knots of lean muscle. I traced the valleys of his abs, following that deep cut v down to his quickly hardening dick. Flynn gasped at the contact and whimpered.

"Gorgeous," I sighed. "Oh, you pretty boy. You want to be my treasure?"

He giggled nervously and nodded. I walked him backwards to the couch. Flynn would have shoved me over the back of it and made me take it if he was in charge. I loved seeing him be big and strong and desperate. I preferred to love him with a more gentle hand, though. Bunny was so guarded when we first met. There was nothing quite like seeing him let go, fully trusting that I would take care of him. I led him to sit down and stood between his knees.

"Please?" he whispered roughly, tugging at the hem of my shirt. "Please can I see you?"

"You never have to beg me, baby," I chuckled and did as he asked, shucking all my clothes to stand naked under his dark, piercing eyes. Flynn groaned and bit his lip, gently, reverently reaching to feather light touches over my ribs.

"Fearful symmetry," he whispered.

"Oh? I'm a tiger now?" I teased him. "How bright do I burn?"

Flynn smirked at me and gripped my waist with his big, talented hands. He used that hold to pull me to straddle his lap, pointedly pressing his hips up to grind his hard, hot dick to mine. I groaned and leaned in to run my lips along the expanse of his chest, lightly grazing him with my teeth just to hear him gasp.

"I'm the hand that dares seize the fire?" he giggled. "Maybe? The metaphor isn't perfect."

"I love the way you think, baby," I purred and bit him just hard enough to elicit a deep moan from his chest. "My feral artist. My brilliant man."

Flynn didn't answer. He grasped needily at me, pulling me close to trap both our straining erections between us. I shuddered at the pressure and heat of his hard muscles on me. I took over thrusting against him, just enjoying the feel of his skin on mine.

"You beautiful boy," I sighed happily and began kissing the tender skin of his neck. Flynn whimpered and trembled.

"Sh-shark," he gasped. I chuckled and shifted so his precum slippery dick would slide between my cheeks.

I stuck my fingers in his mouth. Flynn moaned and sucked them with his eyes hazy and distant. He watched me raise up on my knees to work his spit into my hole. I would never let him go without lube, but I was a lot less patient with myself. I wanted to feel him inside me too badly to walk away and find the bottle in my backpack. Flynn's mouth fell open with the cutest little gasp as I lined him up and worked the first inches into myself.

He caught the back of my head in one strong hand to stare into my soul as I worked my way down. I was going too fast, really, but I breathed through the burn. Flynn must have seen me struggling. He stroked me with those long, talented fingers, grazing over my dick and teasing the sensitive skin between my thighs.

"Fuck, Bun," I chuckled raggedy. "You're so fucking big."

Flynn grinned and gripped my hips, grinding a slow circle that sent sparks through my limbs.

"I'm not," he giggled. "But I like the vote of confidence."

"Fuck me, Bunny," I purred into his ear. "Fuck me like you love me."

He obliged immediately, easily moving me to adjust the angle and slowly beginning to rock his hips. I kept his eyes on mine and my hand wrapped in his hair. We moved together like that, gasping and whispering our praise to each other.

"Shark," he whimpered. "Cum for me? Please? I love it when you cum for me."

I groaned. That sweet boy never needed to beg me, but there was no denying the way his desperate sincerity went straight to my dick. It twitched on its own accord. I circled myself with one hand, just tight enough to feel the friction, looked into Bunny's sweet face, and lost it.

Flynn purred happily, still pumping in me sensuously and slowly as he made me ride out that orgasm. I tightened my fingers in his hair and dragged his lips to mine, kissing him hard and doing all I could to pull him over the edge with me. Bunny panted into that kiss, his breath caught and his body twitched. Warm satisfaction washed over me as Flynn's muscled arms clutched me tight while he pumped his load into me.

Flynn moved us to the bed as soon as he caught his breath. He held me in his arms, murmuring softly about nothing in particular. I cuddled into his chest, sated, happy, and delighted to fall asleep listening to him talk.

...

Flynn

Owen was busy breaking down and remaking household electronics into much more dangerous items. I watched him solder tiny parts together for a few hours that morning, then left to explore the city.

It was definitely a lot easier to blend in wearing khakis and a loose, long-sleeved linen shirt without needing to resort to occlusion spells, but those clothes felt like wearing the wrong skin. I walked with the tourists, gawking at the wonders of man and nature right along with the crowd.

Normally, I wouldn't visit a temple unless I needed something specific. It wasn't worth the pain and risk. The exquisite Phoebus temple, a confection of limestone and colorful glass windows, still tempted me inside.

That temple had a gallery of artwork and workshops for glass blowing, jewelry making, and other arts. I walked the quiet halls, admiring the paintings and sculptures in the peaceful silence. One of the acolytes joined me in one room with a curious smile.

She greeted me in Spanish. I spoke enough to get around and order food, but not enough to have a conversation. I told her as much with a self-effacing grin.

"Then we can speak English," she chuckled. Her accent was light and leaned towards British English over American. "I asked if you're an acolyte from another temple?"

"Ah, no, just an art lover," I laughed. She squinted her eyes and tilted her head. I felt her probing for more information on me. That wasn't going to help her.

"My little brother and his partner are acolytes of Phoebus. I like to send them pictures of temples when I travel," I offered. A little grain of truth and my friendly smile was usually enough to put people off my trail.

"Oh, how lovely," she said and relaxed into a welcoming smile. I scraped just enough of her intentions to confirm I had settled her suspicions without tipping her off. There was a sense of belonging. She thought I was a worshipper of Phoebus carrying a mix of devotionals instead of a heavily warded zealot covered in another goddess's power. "What temple does he serve?"

I jumped into bragging about Eli and Lock. That was easy. The acolyte looked at me curiously when I told her which temple and what they did there.

"Wait, Hemlock? From King's Canyon?" she said.

"Um, yes?" I answered warily. "They are married to my brother. My in-law, I guess."

"Can you get me in touch with them?" she asked excitedly.

"Oh, um, maybe? I can give you the temple number and let him know you're going to call?" I offered. I wasn't sure if Lock wanted people calling them directly. They weren't too interested in having a cell phone. "Do you, um, do you know Lock?"

"Everyone knows about Hemlock," she laughed. "Even outside of Phoebus temples. Their botanical work is groundbreaking. Did you read the paper they wrote at Kew last year? Incredible."

I chuckled and shrugged. No, I hadn't read the paper Lock wrote while we worked on lifting Eli's temple limits the year before.

"Um, well, I'll pass along your name?" I offered. She excitedly gave me her information. I took it with a promise to tell Lock.

After I managed to extract myself from that conversation, I escaped back to the streets. The cable cars were as fun as I expected. I enjoyed the view and the people watching for a few hours until Owen called me.

"Hey Bun," he said. I didn't like the grim note in his greeting. "I'll be gone tonight and probably some tomorrow. Don't worry. I'll be back by tomorrow night at the latest."

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "You aren't coming with me."

"I can always find you," I said quietly.

"Don't," Owen said. His voice was tight. "Bunny, please."

"Are you at the hotel right now?"

"For now," he said.

"Stay there until I can get back?" I almost pleaded.

"Of course, Bun," he agreed.

...

I found Owen sitting on the little loveseat with his head in his hands and his backpack between his sneakers. The expression on his face was unreadable when he looked up.

"What do you know about me?" he asked. I stammered in confusion until he held up a hand to stop me. "I meant, when you read my mind that first time we met, what did you see?"

"I can't read minds," I said automatically. "I can-"

"See below the surface," he finished for me. "I know, Bun. I know. What did you see in me that day?"

"I saw you hunting," I answered slowly. "Like a shark. Cold. Intense. Deadly."

"So you know, then," he concluded. "You know that I started in wet work. You know I made my name in this world with blood."

"Yeah, I know," I admitted. "But I also knew you were more than that. I could feel it in you. I knew you were good at heart."

"I'm not questioning your judgement here, Bunny," he almost laughed, but it sounded terrible. "You are the last person on this planet that I would second guess when it comes to gut feelings. I'm making sure you know what I'm about to do. This is the beginning. It most likely ends in blood. I'm going to remind everyone that the risk isn't ever worth the reward when it comes to me."

"What are you doing tonight?" I asked him quietly.

"Tonight starts easy," he said. "I'm going to blow up their servers."

"Like... a bomb?" I knew I sounded dumb when I asked that, but I couldn't make sense of what Owen was telling me.

"Yes, a bomb," he said. "No one will die tonight assuming I pull this off correctly. This is the first warning. If they don't back off, I escalate."

I paused for a moment, trying to listen and hoping for some kind of guidance. My lady was quiet, though, and my intuition just felt sour with dread.

"I need to pray," I mumbled.

"Pray, then," Owen said. "But I have to go. Shit is already in motion."

"I'll pray on the way," I answered. I dug in our clothes to find my familiar jacket. Settling it on my shoulders, feeling the protections woven into the fibers, felt like stepping into a familiar home. I always felt better in my armor.

"Bunny," Owen started warily.

"No," I said. I tapped his sleeve, right above where the mark that bound our souls was tattooed into his skin. "We're a pair. We fight together."

Owen stood up and wrapped his arms around me. I pressed my face into his shoulder and tried to feel small in his embrace.

"Ok, we fight together," he said softly. "But you have to listen to me on this one. This is my kind of trouble."

"I'll be a dog," I answered.