By some miracle, Kyle stopped himself from screaming. The pain was overwhelming for him, and he knew that it was probably even worse for Ryka. Until four years earlier, the demon hadn’t experienced any such thing. Suffering was reserved for the damned.

Sure, he slept his way through Kyle’s hangovers, conveniently avoiding the misery he’d created. But he couldn’t escape everything else. Not those times Kyle had stubbed his toes on the coffee table, not when he’d slammed a finger closed in his desk drawer. And certainly not whatever this was, though Kyle had a strong feeling it wasn’t meant for him. Already, pathetic howling filled his head. No, Ryka certainly didn’t like this.

Moments earlier, Kyle had been in the middle of a lecture on the Industrial Revolution when the whole room had gone black. Blinded, he had staggered backward and, in trying to catch himself, grabbed at the edge of his desk. The corner had broken off in his hand. A sure sign that Kyle was about to be forced into the background. But it didn’t happen fast enough.

The torment had followed only a moment later. It felt like someone was taking an ax to his skull, trying to hack their way in. Equally excruciating was the sensation of pressure building in his head, like his brain was simultaneously trying to batter its way out. His back spasmed, muscles tensing until he was sure tendons would start ripping. The scream he kept at bay, but a whimper worked its way past his clenched teeth.

I’d get to the bathroom if I were you, Ryka had hissed. I’m coming out, and I don’t need these little bastards to see me like this.

“Like what?” Kyle had managed. A frustrated growl had been the only reply. The room had suddenly come back into focus, and he found all twenty students in his first period History class staring at him, all wearing the same worried expression. “I’ll be right back. Sorry.” Then he had bolted for the nearest men’s room. It was a blessing to find it empty.

Now, Ryka was starting to take over, shredding the shirt off Kyle’s back. Usually, he kept his claws in unless there was someone to hurt, and Kyle knew he wasn’t stripping this way to be an ass. Between his increasing discomfort and his desire not to get trapped in the garment, he was being careless with his nails, leaving long, bloody gashes along his back and arms. The red-speckled confetti that had been a dress shirt fluttered to the ground at his feet.

With a thunderous roar, Ryka pushed out his wings. Kyle had shut himself in the handicap stall, in case anyone else came into the bathroom, and now regretted it. They exploded out from between Kyle/Ryka’s shoulders with enough force to buckle the metal wall on one side and shatter tile on the other. Ryka’s tail, which had been lashing back and forth in frustration, went rigid as the demon’s horns began to grow.

“What the fuck is this shit?” Ryka seethed.

Without the pain blinding him, Kyle was finally able to focus a little more on what was happening. He could see out Ryka’s eyes – when they were open and not squeezed shut in agony - and what he saw made him feel sick. A rapidly growing pool of blood was forming on the scummy linoleum under Ryka, who had sunk to all fours, panting and growling like a wounded animal.

Why is this happening? And how? I didn’t summon you. And it’s day. You said you weren’t strong enough to summon yourself during the day.

“If I knew, I’d fucking tell you. Just shut up! My head ….”

Somehow, Kyle could still feel some of what Ryka was, and whimpered along with him. Sorry, sorry.

Ryka just shook his head, spraying flecks of blood onto the walls. His wings had left crimson streaks there as well, and he added handprints as he struggled off the floor. In a rush to get out of the cramped bathroom stall, he knocked the door off its hinges, sending it sailing into the radiator. To Kyle, it had seemed like it had hardly taken any effort for Ryka to do so, but he realized quickly how much the demon was still suffering when Ryka stumbled forward.

He saved himself from falling by latching onto the nearest sink. There was a loud crack as the bolts holding it in place started to break, but Ryka let go before he completely tore it off the wall. Just sit down, Kyle suggested.

Kyle found he wasn’t nearly as worried about the mess in the bathroom, or about anyone hearing them, as he was about Ryka’s current condition. “I’m going to. Give me a fucking minute, huh?”

Still breathing heavily, Ryka rested his hands on either side of the mirror over the sink. You look like hell.

“Is that supposed to be some kind of joke? Asshole.”

Sorry, no. But that’s a lot of blood.

Bright red rivulets ran down the sides of the demon’s face, dripping off his chin and out of his hair. His arms, sides and back were coated as well, not only from where his wings had grown out, but also the dozens of inadvertent cuts he had given himself. And Kyle’s pants were no longer khaki in color – they were turning an ugly brown as blood soaked into the fabric. It looked like Ryka had been in a fight and lost. Badly.

“We’ll be fine. But hey, check out my horns.” The pain was all but forgotten as Ryka studied his reflection.

Kyle was rather impressed, too. Although Ryka’s horns had grown once before, they had still never been long, half a foot at the most, Kyle had guessed, and they had curved slightly back. Now, they were at least twice as long, but curled back toward his ears, like rams’ horns. If blood still hadn’t been dripping from the tips, Kyle might have been more enthusiastic. As it was, he was trying not to imagine how nauseous he’d be when Ryka finally returned to his usual passenger position.

Why did they change?

“I have no fucking idea.”

What?

“Some of us usually have straight horns, that stay short. They’re easier to hide them that way. So usually incubi, succubae, reapers, parasites and whoever the fuck else winds up here.” These, Kyle knew, referred to demons that looked generally human, and therefore were sent among them to cause all sorts of trouble. “Higher-ranking demons tend to have these,” he studied his reflection more, still looking surprised. “But I’ve never heard of this happening. Even as we age, they just get longer.”

Since he seemed more awed than upset, Kyle decided not to worry too much about it. Well, congratulations, I guess. But that’s some promotion. You still look like you’re hurting.

Ryka forced a smile. “I could really use a smoke.”

As if on cue, two senior boys burst into the room, and before either noticed the disaster area they had just walked into, or the demon watching them, one pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Smoking in the boys’ room, huh?” Even in the small space, Ryka’s deep voice echoed. “I think it’s only considered a sin if you don’t share.”

The boys took one look at the demon, drenched in blood and smiling wickedly, and ran. Ryka cackled as they fought each other to be the first out of the room. In the process, the cigarettes were dropped. Ryka waited until the door had closed behind the two delinquents before picking them up. “A full pack, too. My lucky day.”

Given what had just happened, Kyle couldn’t deny him. He said nothing as Ryka settled himself on the floor, wings stretched out and his tail resting across his lap. He had just lit his first cigarette when the door opened again.

Tommy poked his head in, and the color immediately washed from his face. “Hey, don’t run, punk. Come here.”

It went against every instinct he had to listen to the demon. But listen he did. Slowly, Tommy picked his way across the room, stepping over blood that had been spattered on the floor. “Y-y-yes?” When Ryka didn’t answer right away, Tommy found himself unable to stop the questions that were plaguing him. “Why is there so much blood? Did you kill someone? Is Mr. S. all right?” Did you burn that convenience store down? he wanted to ask. Self-preservation stopped the words short.

“Most of that’s none of your business. And of course Master’s fine. I’m not the one that wanted to hurt him, right?”

Ashamed, Tommy looked away. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’d have to put this cigarette out to really fuck you up, and I just can’t do that right now. So, do Master a favor and go get his briefcase out from under his desk. Toss it in here, then get your ass back to the room and finish chapter eighteen. Filthy mortal scum.” Ryka took a deep drag on his cigarette and leaned back against the wall. “Did you hear me? Move it, kid.”

Tommy ran from the room, and a few minutes later the door cracked open, and Kyle’s briefcase was placed just inside the doorway. Thanks, Ryka. We’re still going to leave, though. We’ll go home and get some sleep.

“That sounds fucking fabulous. You know, if it weren’t for your weak human body, that wouldn’t have hurt at all.”

Fine, I’ll stop at the liquor store on the ride home.

“You’re too easy.”

***

Ten minutes later, Kyle was headed back to his classroom. Ryka had smoked half a pack of cigarettes in record time before relinquishing control of their body to its rightful owner. Kyle had cleaned up – managing not to be sick – and changed into a spare shirt, but had been entirely unsure about what to do with the mess in the bathroom. He supposed telling the principal would be the best idea, since he wouldn’t bother asking for an explanation.

Conveniently, Dr. Taylor was already waiting for him. Only in the past month had the principal and vice-principal been able to once again look Kyle in the eye, even if only briefly.

Before Dr. Taylor could even ask, Kyle started, “Nothing happened to the two boys who were going to smoke in the bathroom; the blood is all mine.” There had been so much. “And I’m sorry about the stall and the sink. I can pay for it.”

“No need,” the principal said, skirting around Kyle to get to the door. “We’ll take care of it. Should we call a sub for the rest of your classes? You don’t look well.” That was an understatement. There was still blood drying in his hair, and it looked like he’d spent a day at a slaughterhouse, minus the apron. The clean shirt he now wore stuck out in sharp contrast to his rust-stained khakis.

“Um, please.”

And then he was gone. Heaving a sigh, Kyle plopped down into his chair. Then quickly stood again. No need to get that covered in gore, too. His clean shirt was already hardly that, red spots soaking through where he had been unable to wipe blood off himself. Twenty pairs of eyes watched, imploring him to explain. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Are we still having the field trip tomorrow?” one of the girls at the back of the room asked quietly.

Kyle had almost completely forgotten about the trip the history department had planned for the sophomores. They were scheduled to walk the Freedom Trail in Boston the next day. “Of course. That’s why I need to go home now, so I can keep up with all of you tomorrow.” Through the open door, Kyle could see the vice-principal, Mrs. Vargas, walking down the hall toward his room. There was no doubt she was coming to take over until a substitute arrived. He thought he’d never been so glad to see her.

***

On the bus ride in to Boston, Kyle put on the Bluetooth headset he had bought a few weeks earlier. Even though he knew it was against school rules for him to be making personal calls – or at least pretending to - while on the clock, he much preferred the idea of getting scolded to getting caught talking to himself. And since he had gone right to bed the afternoon before, he hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to Ryka.

You look like one of those self-important Wall Street assholes.

“Why did I want to talk to you again?”

Must be love, the demon teased.

Kyle ignored the remark. Now was not the time for that discussion. “Anyhow, I meant to ask you – what exactly did you get promoted for? Since you’re up here and all.”

Maybe for that soul I sent down over the winter? Lord Satan’s almost as much of a pushover as you are.

“Oh.” Four months earlier, Ryka had killed and condemned a man who had been attempting to rob a store where Kyle and his cousin had been shopping. “Wait, did you just say the Devil was a pushover?”

Well, it’s more like he plays favorites.

“If you’re a favorite, why did he kick you out?”

Beats me. That’s why I’m happy to stay up here as long as possible. Girly bastard.

“What? He’s a pushover and he’s girly? What does that even mean?”

Just what it sounds like. He’s pretty like a girl. In front of the demons anyways. He puts on quite a show for the damned, though, let me tell you. But of course he’s pretty. He was basically an angel, after all. That’s why I never call him Lucifer. It makes it even worse.

Kyle was too astonished to properly respond. Of all the words he would have imagined describing the Devil, “girly” had never even once crossed his mind. Not that he doubted Ryka. For a brief moment, he thought that one day he’d be finding out for himself. And then he remembered that although he’d be going to Hell with Ryka, he very likely would never see him again once they were there. He’d see the Devil the rest of the damned saw, not the Devil the demons all knew.

Maybe it won’t have to be like that, Ryka said, trying to reassure him. But that’s a long time from now. Don’t worry about it.

“You’re right.” Ever since Ryka had confessed to him, he had realized just how attached he was to the demon. The thought of not being able to talk to him ever again made his stomach knot.

Ryka could surely tell what he was thinking, but said nothing. In fact, he kept quiet for the rest of the bus ride. Which Kyle didn’t mind. One of the parents chaperoning the trip had been giving him dirty looks, but those stopped as soon as he took out the earpiece and started reviewing some history with the kids.

Having grown up not far outside of the city, Kyle had walked the Freedom Trail dozens of times as a child. But his happy memories of Boston’s historic landmarks quickly evaporated when he tried to walk into Old North Church. He was at the back of the line, trailing behind his class, trying to make sure no one snuck off. As the last student entered the building, he tried to follow, only to feel like he had body-checked a brick wall.

Dazed, he stumbled backwards, catching his balance at the last possible second. You almost landed on your ass. That was great. Try it again.

“Shut up,” Kyle muttered, watching helplessly as the rest of the group started their tour of the church.

“Aren’t you coming, Mr. Saunders?” Mackenzie called. She had been the last one inside.

“Apparently not.”

“Oh. But ….”

“I’ve been here plenty of times. So go on.”

A little hesitantly, she rejoined her classmates. Kyle sat down outside the church and stared solemnly at his shoes. “That was a bit embarrassing.”

But it was damn funny.

“Thanks.”

Aw, come on. It didn’t really hurt. Just your ego.

“I guess. But I know I’m going to have to explain why I didn’t go in.”

I’m sure some of them can guess. Sinner. By his tone, it was meant to be teasing. But there was still truth to it, as there was with everything Ryka said. After all, he couldn’t lie. Don’t get all melancholy now.

“Sorry. It’s hard to think of lies sometimes, though.” One of his classes undoubtedly knew why the building was closed to him, but they weren’t the only students on this trip. And he didn’t want the rest to have to learn.

You’ll figure it out.

He was sure he would, eventually, but was saved this time. As the group exited the church and gathered around where he had been waiting, the only thing he was asked was if he felt well enough to continue with the trip. “Of course. Don’t worry about me.”

As they continued on their way through the North End, Mackenzie hung back and fell into step with him. “I told them you weren’t feeling good, and wanted to get some air. Is that okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” They went on in silence for a few minutes before Kyle asked, “How are you and your Mom doing?”

It had been nearly five months since her abusive father had tried to kill him, and Ryka had protected him the best way he knew. He had been meaning to ask all this time, but felt that mentioning it during class - or even asking her to stay after - would make her uncomfortable. “We’re good. My grandma lives in town, and we’re staying with her. I mean, Dad moved away, but Mom doesn’t like being in that house anymore.”

“That’s understandable. I’m glad you’re both okay. I still feel awful about what happened.”

“It’s not your fault,” Mackenzie said bitterly. But the anger washed quickly from her face when she realized it sounded like she was blaming Ryka. “I mean, it’s not his fault. It’s Dad’s. Please don’t let him -”

“Sh, it’s okay. We knew what you meant.”

With a sheepish smile, she thanked him then moved ahead again to talk to her friend, Melissa. It’s amazing I got a promotion at all. What with you making people feel better and all that kind of shit.

“Sorry. But you picked me, remember?”

Sometimes I still wonder why.

“How sweet.”

Ryka started to reply, but Kyle never heard what he said. His students suddenly swarmed around him, asking questions about the plans for the rest of the day. While he answered, he realized that if he’d never loosed Ryka on them, he most likely would have spent the day chasing these kids around the city. He still felt bad, but to be able to enjoy their company, it had been more than worth it.

***

“It’s so awesome that we have field trips two weeks in a row,” Nick blurted out in the middle of a lecture.

The whole class laughed, and Kyle just shook his head. “I’m glad you’re excited about the trip tomorrow, but please try to pay attention. There’s still a test next week.”

“Sorry.”

Really, Kyle was just as amazed as his students. Just the week before, they had gone to Boston. But after hearing that most of his students were also reading Nathaniel Hawthorne’s works in their English class, he had suggested a joint trip with the English department to visit Salem, the author’s birthplace. Since the principal was still mostly terrified of him, he hadn’t argued at all when Kyle had floated the idea.

Kyle knew he wasn’t the only one that had loved having two field trips in two weeks. Besides the students - who he knew would give anything to get out of classes for a day - most of the teachers involved were also looking forward to leaving the premises. It was April, and the weather had finally improved. After a long New England winter, spring fever was setting in.

Ryka was the only one who hadn’t said anything about going to Salem, and it bothered Kyle. Usually, he was the one begging for Kyle to do something besides hang out at school or home. So, on the bus the next day, Kyle once again slipped on his phone’s earpiece. “You’ve been disturbingly quiet about this trip.”

Salem’s just as notorious in Hell as it is on Earth.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Kyle shuddered to hear that. “For what happened there? Really?”

The so-called Witch Trials? Yup. The people that were put to death weren’t witches, but their accusers were. Well, they were Satanists. And not the goody-two-shoes kind around today. Some of this Ryka had explained to him once before. That most people who claimed to worship the Devil did it as a political statement. There were some groups that still dabbled in the arcane, though, damning themselves with blood rituals and the like, but the majority were good people. Much to the demon’s dismay.

“Why? What was their goal?”

They wanted power, or revenge, or both. Most of the people killed for being witches had done something to piss off their accusers. And they had demons to help supply evidence. Those Satanists had more than enough blood on their hands by the time they died to ensure they had no chance of reaching Heaven.

One shared his body, but it still made his skin crawl to ask. “Demons?”

Those assholes sacrificed to Lord Satan, tried to call up some assistance. To help speed along their damnation, he sent parasites to a few, or demon companions to others. Which is where your idea of familiars comes from. Kyle knew this was rare, to actually have your wish to Satan granted. It was only when he wanted to have fun, Ryka had told him, that he responded to summonings. And what fun it must have been to watch the fear and paranoia spread through the small city.

Pushing that thought aside, Kyle continued, “Why here? Similar things were happening in Europe, too.”

Don’t worry - they didn’t get left out. But it was easier here. Salem’s one of the places in the mortal world where immortals’ powers are unusually strong. Not that the Satanists balked at much their new friends suggested, but if they did, it was easy enough for the demons to do what they wanted.

“Even the parasites?”

Mm hmm.

“Wait – are you saying they could just control their hosts?”

I walked you back home, remember? It’s really easy when you’re unconscious, but even still, I can control you a little. Not that he’d been hoping for a demonstration, but Kyle got one all the same, his fists clenching and opening several times while he watched on, helpless.

Nothing like learning he was basically a puppet. He remembered his cousin saying he had somehow shambled back to the house that night of the incident at the gas station. Kyle had tried very hard not to think about that since.

“Great. No more of that, please.” When Ryka disregarded his request, Kyle continued delving into his impromptu history lessons. “Did they really burn them? The victims.”

I know, someone told you that was bullshit. They set those poor bastards up to be burned at the stake, drowned, drawn and quartered, hanged, you name it. And anyone who tried to turn the accusations back on the Satanists found themselves at the end of the noose. As much as some of those demons hated their hosts, they were still too proud to get caught. And it was much easier for them to protect their hosts in Salem.

Kyle was trying to imagine what it would be like if Ryka not only hated him, but had the ability to completely control their body when the demon continued. Even though it’s day, I could probably summon myself without a problem. Although that promotion or whatever the fuck it was probably didn’t hurt, either. But don’t worry about that other part, stud.

“Uh, oh. Th-thanks. And please don’t do that. But why do you sound upset?” The joy in his voice at describing human suffering had vanished quickly.

If something happened, I don’t think I could stop myself. It wouldn’t take much, Master. I love you. I don’t like it when you’re not happy. And you don’t like what I do when you’re not happy.

The thought made Kyle understandably nervous. All it would take was him getting blocked from walking into an old church or a graveyard, or some other such mildly annoying incident, and a raging demon would suddenly appear in his students’ midst. “I appreciate it. But I can’t imagine what could happen that would be that bad. And please try not to overreact. Unless I’m being mugged or something, there’s really no need for you to interfere. Okay?”

Yes, Master.

***

By the time they arrived in Salem, Kyle had almost stopped worrying. Their first stop was the House of Seven Gables, and as Kyle watched his class loiter in the garden while waiting for a tour to start, Adam Brissette, their English teacher, approached him.

“You know, I still can’t believe how much they’ve improved since the beginning of the year.” Coming from anyone else, Kyle would have taken that as some sort of threat. But Adam was one of the few teachers he got along with well, probably because they were two of the youngest on staff and had been hired together.

“Me, either,” Kyle replied. In truth, he was more surprised they’d ever recovered from the shock he’d given them.

“I had a hell of a time my first couple years teaching. It’s hard when you’re right out of college and teaching high-schoolers. They think you’re supposed to be their friend. And they get really upset when they find out that you’re just the same as any other teacher.”

That was the first time Kyle had heard that theory. It made sense, and he told Adam so. “You’ve got something there.”

The other man smiled. “Still, you have to tell me, what did you say that made them do a complete one-eighty like that? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

With Ryka laughing, it was extremely difficult to make up a good answer. Luckily, he was saved from having to fib by the start of their tour. Melissa and Mackenzie ran over to get their teachers, interrupting their conversation. Close call, stud.

***

The House of Seven Gables was only their first stop in Salem. Of course, the students had all begged to go to the Witch Museum - the cheesy one - but none of the teachers thought that was nearly educational enough. And after what Ryka had told him about the witch trials, Kyle had no desire to have what was apparently incorrect history spewed at him all afternoon.

Instead, the group was headed to the Peabody Essex Museum. “I heard that the real witch trial papers are there!” one girl from his class exclaimed as they passed through the doors. She then noticed her demon-possessed teacher walking up next to her and turned an amazing shade of scarlet. Kyle pretended not to notice her reaction.

For the rest of their time in the museum, his first-period history students kept shooting him worried glances. Maybe they’re scared someone’s going to burn you at the stake or something. Not that it would hurt. Fire doesn’t really bother me. Well, it might get me all hot and bothered. Hmm… Kyle had to cover his mouth when he realized he was wearing Ryka’s flirty grin. But the demon continued before Kyle could scold him. And yes, that’s why it was obvious all those supposed witches were innocent. They burned. No demon could roast like that. Heh, they’d just get off on it.

“Good to know,” he murmured. It was really too quiet in the museum to have a conversation with Ryka - this conversation especially - but he always felt that he had to reply. And he didn’t want to be rude to the demon in a place where his power was amplified.

After the museum, it was time for lunch. The fifty children in the group hardly fit in the small deli they had decided on and so, while they ordered, Kyle waited outside. He wandered away from the other teachers, hoping to be able to talk to Ryka a little more.

As he passed a café, a man with long, dirty-blond hair smiled at him. Kyle smiled back to be polite, but kept walking, at least until the man spoke. “Don’t you have anything to say to me, Ryka?”

Kyle froze mid-step. A growl was already rumbling out of his throat, and it was Ryka that turned his body around to face the man. And it was Ryka who replied, acid in his words. “Not actually. I thought I made myself clear the last time we talked.”

“But I came all this way.” The man stood up, and Kyle gasped. Not only was he frighteningly large, he was also obviously a demon. Though he was sure no one else could see them, the faint shadows of an enormous pair of wings, as well as the misty outline of this demon’s horns and tail were glaringly obvious to Kyle.

“Satan’s going to be pissed if you came here without permission just to annoy me.”

“What Lucifer doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Ryka actually winced at the mention of that name, and Kyle started to wonder what had really happened in the demon’s past. “Now, why don’t we go chat somewhere else?”

The other demon started toward the alley on the other side of the café. Kyle had no choice but to follow. Who is he? Kyle asked, only realizing as he did that Ryka was coming forward a little at a time.

“His name’s Val. He looked a little older than me when we were in Hell, even though we were created at the same time. He really wanted me to age with him.” After his sudden – and bloody - growth spurt Ryka had explained that the passage of time wasn’t enough to physically age a demon. They had to accumulate enough power and will it to happen. And some demons, he’d said, chose never to grow the small bodies they entered their immortal lives in. “He wanted far more from me than I was willing to give him. He’s a persistent bastard.”

What do you mean, ‘more than you were willing to give?’

“He wanted a commitment. I just wanted to have fun.”

Wait, what was he to you?

“A friend. With benefits, I guess you’d say. A fuck buddy.” Somehow, even in the state they now found themselves, Kyle could feel his stomach turn to lead. And was that Ryka smirking at his reaction?

There wasn’t time to find out. Val was tired of being ignored. “Talking to your host? How quaint.”

“Kind of like your cute little horns.” With a haughty grin, Ryka pushed the transformation just a little further, letting his horns and tail grow out.

“What? How?” Val asked, eyes narrowed. A moment before they had been grey, but now they burned red. “You always were his favorite.” His expression softened, and he moved to stand closer to Kyle/Ryka. The boundary between host and parasite was extremely thin. It was like they were stuck halfway through a transformation, Kyle thought, and it was uncomfortable.

“I wouldn’t go that far. Now, what do you want, Val?”

“You,” Val answered quickly, closing the gap between them. “I like you this way. Why wouldn’t you do this for me?” The other demon reached out a hand and stroked one of Ryka’s horns.

Unable to stop himself, Ryka shuddered and sighed. Kyle had never felt pleasure like that before, a wave that rolled from his scalp all the way to his toes. But Ryka didn’t seem to appreciate it, and what had started off as a purr quickly became a growl. “Don’t touch,” he warned.

“Why not? You used to like it.” This time, Val leaned in for a kiss, and their lips just brushed before Ryka stepped back.

“Um, Kyle?”

Both demons glanced toward the mouth of the alley, where Adam Brissette stood, looking more than a little surprised. Sighing, Ryka snatched off Kyle’s glasses, then pulled off his polo shirt and opened his wings. “Do I look like Kyle to you? Get lost before you get hurt.”

Without another word, Adam turned and started back to the restaurant. And Kyle wondered why these sorts of things always seemed to happen to him. This really isn’t good, Ryka. We need to go.

“There’s only one way to do that.”

“Do what?” Val inquired. “I do hope you mean you’re going to come back with me.”

“No fucking way.”

Wings still stretched, Ryka raised his arms. Flame spread across his shoulders and all along the membrane of his wings. His shadow loomed up on the wall behind him, eyes blazing. And when Ryka growled, so did the portal. Val did not look at all happy at this new revelation. “How did you get that?”

“You think Lord Satan sent his supposed favorite to Earth without any kind of protection? Really, Val, use the head on your shoulders for a change.”

“Please, Ryka, if I go back that way, he’ll know I left.” Suddenly, the other demon didn’t seem nearly as intimidating. His own wings were flattened behind him, and his tail curled around his right leg. “I just came to talk. I really like you, Ryka. Please. I want us to be together.”

“I don’t.” There was no mercy, no compassion in his words. “I love my Master. And only my Master.”

A smug smile appeared on Val’s face. It wouldn’t last long. “Master? What -? Never mind. Well, when Lucifer takes him away from you, I’ll be there.”

“No one will ever take him from me,” Ryka snarled. Then, glancing over his shoulder, shouted, “Send this bastard back where he came from!”

The shadow opened his huge mouth, and dust swirled in the alley as a searing hot wind blew in from Hell. Seeing Val’s wounded expression, Kyle was struck by sudden guilt.

Ryka had no such feeling; he had other concerns. His wings snapped back as the shadow started to inhale - it was taking most of his strength to keep them from following Val back home, something that meant certain death for Kyle. Val didn’t seem too keen on exiting Earth that way either, trying desperately to keep his footing. When it seemed like he might just do so, the shadow swung in his direction and swallowed him whole.

With a malicious laugh, the portal closed his mouth, then retreated back to the ground. Ryka collapsed, too, falling to his knees. “Ow,” he moaned, slowly pumping his wings. They had stretched almost to the point of tearing in the gale.

Are you okay?

“They’re just tired. No biggie.”

That’s not what I meant.

“He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s not really dangerous. I’m stronger than he is now. And once Lord Satan finds out he left without permission ….” Ryka trailed off. Kyle couldn’t even imagine what would happen to Val.

By the way, how was he out in the open like that without a host? And how did he find you?

“You could still see his wings, right? He was just hiding them. I assume that’s why he was in Salem. He wouldn’t be able to do that so easily anywhere else, not Val anyhow. As for how he knew where I’d be … he must have some high-ranking friends to spy for him and get him here.” Ryka paused, absently studying the ground. “I was pulled from my job – reassigned-” he spat out the word like a curse “- and told I had to do this. My only option was to be a parasite. It felt like a punishment.”

It bothered him to hear Ryka so troubled, and he wished he could provide some sort of explanation. The only thing he could offer was consolation. I’m glad that you picked me.

“Master ….”

Ryka, I -

“The punishment now would be going back; being separated from you. I love only my Master.”

Once again, Ryka had left him nearly speechless. How could a creature that had just so cruelly rejected another be confessing so sweetly to him? It was hard not to be swept up, but Kyle also thought that an alleyway wasn’t the right place for that discussion. He could only hope Ryka understood that.

I, uh, I guess I can probably forget those words of summoning now, huh? He knew from when Ryka had learned to summon himself at night that once he was able to do it, there was nothing stopping him from making it a habit.

“Yeah. But I’ll be good and ask before I come out. I promise.”

Where have I heard that before? Ryka didn’t respond, but sat in silence for a few minutes, unsure what to say. It was a first. Even though he would have liked to find a way to comfort Ryka, Kyle was getting anxious about getting back to his group. Hey, where’d my glasses go? Weren’t you holding them?

“Shit.”

What? Where are they?

“They kinda slipped out of my hand. But don’t worry, they’ll be waiting for you when you get to Hell.”

I can’t see without them! And we can’t leave the alley like this!

“Chill out, stud. I’m going to step back a little. I can fix this. But just promise me you won’t scream.”

Kyle wasn’t given a chance to answer. Ryka almost completely reversed the transformation. With his own eyes, Kyle could hardly see past his own outstretched hands. Though it became much easier to see those when they went numb and moved to cover his face. Instinct made him try to duck away, but there was no escaping himself, and an amused snort from Ryka froze him long enough for the demon to be able to succeed in his task.

Close your eyes. And remember, no screaming.

That was a lot to ask. The moment Ryka placed his hands over Kyle’s eyes, it felt like they were on fire, molten orbs burning behind his lids. Searing pain lanced back deep into his skull. Even with his eyes squeezed tightly closed, tears were streaming down his face. He hoped they were tears, anyhow. He wanted to wipe them away, to dig the heels of his hands into his sockets to try and ease the throbbing, but his hands were still out of his control. All he could do was endure. Eventually, the burning subsided to a dull throbbing, and Kyle could safely open his mouth to gasp for air without doing just what Ryka had told him not to.

***

When Adam found him, he was curled up on the ground, whimpering and rubbing his eyes. Why had these last couple weeks been so miserably painful? “Kyle? Are you okay?”

Distracting as his agony was, Kyle somehow managed to respond. Even though it was just by motioning feebly at his face. He heard his colleague suck in a startled breath. Definitely not a good sign. Especially not when followed by a tremulous “What happened to you?”

Kyle tried to open his eyes, but even the dim light in the alley made them sting. Without having to see, he could hear Adam coming closer, and soon felt the other man’s hand on his shoulder. “Do you see my shirt anywhere?” Kyle asked, trying to stop his voice from shaking. It was a wasted effort.

He felt it shoved into his hands, and after a little trial and error, managed to get it back on. “You’re bleeding,” Adam informed him. “What happened to you? And who was that? Not you, right?”

“No, not me,” Kyle told him. For the moment, he ignored that first bit. “His name’s Ryka. He’s a parasite demon. We’re sharing my body. As for that other guy, he wasn’t here for me. Um, and it wasn’t me he was trying to kiss.” It felt important to add that, though saying it also made him a little ashamed. Why did it matter?

There was silence while Adam tried to absorb what Kyle had just told him. As the quiet stretched on, Kyle came to realize that, contrary to what he had seen, Adam didn’t believe him.

“You were asking what made my class suddenly change. It was him. They went too far, and I panicked and summoned Ryka. That’s also why Dr. Taylor and Mrs. Vargas won’t even look at me anymore. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s all true. You saw him, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Adam said slowly. “It’s just ….”

“I know.”

“Do you need help getting up?”

“Please.” Adam grabbed Kyle’s wrists and helped haul him back to his feet. It was only then that Kyle had felt the blood that had dried on his hands. And when he grimaced, he felt it cracking on his face. As if Adam’s word hadn’t been enough, there was no denying it now - those hadn’t been tears. “How bad do I look?”

“Uh, well, I’m wondering if you still have eyes.”

“I’d better. Ryka ….”

Suck it up. Twenty-twenty vision doesn’t come without a price, you know.

Kyle was still attempting to open his eyes just a little when Adam started leading him out of the alley. Only when he heard gasps and horrified murmurs did he realize they were back at the deli. But they didn’t stop walking, and Kyle assumed they were in the restroom when he heard their footsteps echoing on tile.

So that Adam didn’t have to help him clean up, Kyle finally forced his eyes open. And then he stared. Not because he looked like he’d just barely survived a vicious assault - with blood trails running down his cheeks and more smeared around his eyes - but because he could see his reflection in perfect detail. Better, even, than when he’d had glasses. “Why didn’t you do this sooner?”

I told you, I had other things I wanted to fix up. And to be honest, I also didn’t realize how bad they were until it was too late. Demons don’t have those kinds of stupid flaws. It’s not easy trying to figure out how to fix that shit. But since we’re here, and it wasn’t as much of a drain -

“- And you sent my glasses to Hell -”

- I thought it was worth a shot.

“‘Worth a shot?’ So, you could have made it worse?”

Hardly.

“Um, where did you say your glasses were?” Up until that point, Adam hadn’t commented on the fact that Kyle seemed to be talking to himself.

Even though it really wasn’t all that funny, Kyle found himself laughing. “Hell. It’s a long story.”

“Maybe you could explain it over a beer tonight.”

***

The rest of the trip went off without a hitch. Well, aside from a few questions about all the blood, which Kyle brushed off, chalking it up to clumsiness. No one said anything about how he was suddenly able to function without his glasses, but again, he thought it was better not to have to try and make up answers to such questions. It seemed that if he acted like nothing was out of the ordinary, people seemed more than happy to play along, rather than deal with unusual or uncomfortable - or downright terrifying - things.

And, sitting in a bar, talking to Adam about non-school and non-demon related subjects - at least once those were out of the way - Kyle found he had no reason to be upset about that afternoon’s events in Salem. Though Ryka didn’t seem too keen on the fact that Kyle was spending time with someone else.

Don’t get too attached, he warned. Kyle had ignored him, at least until he got home that evening.

“There’s no reason for you to be jealous,” he said, stretching out on the couch.

And why not? You’re going to outlive all the people around you, but at least, in the meantime, you can touch them, right?

“When you say it like that… But I’m not interested in any of them, Ryka.” Kyle took a deep breath. This was better than the alley, right? “You’re the only one I care about. The only one I’d want to touch.” He could feel his face getting hot. That last bit had slipped out inadvertently. Too late for regrets now.

You mean it?

“Yes.” He said it with much more confidence than he felt. It hadn’t been easy coming to terms with his feelings for Ryka. But the demon was right – he couldn’t deny how he felt. And it wasn’t fair to either of them to keep pretending. If he hadn’t been sure, that sudden pang of jealousy earlier had confirmed it.

I’m so happy, Master. It’s been hard waiting for you to figure things out. I know I didn’t always help; I got impatient. And frustrated – I can’t lie, but you didn’t understand how serious I was. So when subtlety didn’t work ….

Kyle felt his throat tighten. He thought back to the day he had summoned Ryka in his classroom, and the demon’s light-hearted confession in the parking lot afterwards. And when Kyle hadn’t realized how serious it was, Ryka’s subsequent melancholy, and his very blatant visualizations of what he hoped for with his host. It was rather impressive, Kyle thought, how much restraint Ryka had shown, when he’d all along been able to sense exactly what Kyle was thinking, how he’d struggled with his feelings.

“I’m so sorry, Ryka. That I didn’t get it. But I’ve never been good at this. And then there was ….” Why bother explaining how unloved he’d felt to someone who could read all his thoughts.

Don’t be sad. You were alone, so you were there, just waiting for me.

“I guess so, huh? But I’m not any good at this, Ryka. And this is so different. It’s also a bit scary.” Anxious, he sat up, wringing his hands. The scariest part was how easy it had been to fall under the demon’s spell. He could be dangerously charming and sweet.

What’s so scary? You’ve already given me your soul.

“My body, too,” he replied. Not what he’d meant to say. Feeling his face get hot, he tried to correct himself, but Ryka was too fast.

I’ll never get enough of that, stud. He couldn’t be sure which of them was making his heart race. Both, he supposed. But that’s not what you’re worried about, right? I’d never hurt you, stud, and you know that I mean it. My feelings are real, and now you know that, too.

“Thank you, Ryka. That means a lot.” There was something very reassuring about being loved by someone who could never lie to him. He’d had enough of that. “But this is weird, right?”

Who cares? The only thing that matters is that you want me as much as I want you. And I really want you, Kyle.

Kyle felt his breath catch; Ryka never used his name. Now his heart was battering against his ribs, pulse pounding all throughout his body. An electric buzz spread out from his core before settling back in his belly and groin. That sensation back in the alley was nothing in comparison. His cheeks were burning. Did he really have to say it out loud? “Ryka ….”

I meant right now. With a gasp, Kyle fell backward on the couch. He swore he could feel two strong hands pushing him down. And his own hands, which had been clutching his shirt, suddenly went numb. Close your eyes, Ryka suggested. Kyle did, and jumped a little feeling a finger run from his chin down to his navel. And then two hands - which no longer felt like his own - expertly slipped under the waistband of his pants.

“Wait, hold on, Ryka.”

I love you, Master. Let me show you.

“I l-love you, too, Ryka.” His khakis and briefs were suddenly down around his knees, but his hands - no, Ryka’s now - didn’t linger there for more than a moment. “Hold on. Take it easy. It … it’s been awhile.”

That’s my fault, so let me make it up to you. The only argument Kyle could make was an embarrassing moan. He’d watched Ryka in the mirror enough times to be able to visualize exactly how Ryka was touching him. And it was easy to imagine the lusty grin he’d be wearing.

Just as he’d all along known how his host really felt about him, Ryka’d also certainly known how much Kyle really had enjoyed watching him. Denying it had been a pointless exercise, and was completely impossible now with Kyle’s every thought of his parasite. Enjoy yourself. Kyle was, and Ryka didn’t need to be able to read his mind to know it.

“I’m sorry.”

For what? Think of whatever gets you off. Glad it’s me, though.

What was he supposed to say to that? Of course it was Ryka. Ryka, who had him with his eyes squeezed closed, biting his lip and arching his back, already far too close to the point of no return. “Please ….” Kyle pleaded, not quite sure what he was asking for.

I’ll know when you want me to stop.

“Don’t.”

Then I won’t. We’re just getting started, stud.

Kyle tried to for exasperated, but sounded only elated when he managed a breathless “Ryka.”

That’s right. You can’t say you-know-who’s name. But use mine as often, and as loudly, as possible.