Mammon knelt and calmed Shiro with just one look; then he rewarded him with gentle patting around its face and chest.

Of all the days, of all the places, of all the hellish hours in the night, this human had to show up here now. These people… ever the inconvenient bunch.

He didn’t ignore the fact that he recognised this human as Mara’s university friend. That would be the only reason he was still breathing. If they were to gain Mara’s trust, it would not bode well to eliminate him. It could jeopardise Lucious’ plan and he simply couldn’t have that. He couldn’t see in which scenario just yet, but there was no telling when he could become useful.

Of course, he could still do it… kill him, that is…

With the smallest effort, leaving no trace, other humans would just declare him missing. These things happened on earth too often, and no one with greater capacity involved themselves. Not the humans in the *Conclave, that much was known; they had arrangements with hungry demon nobles where they offered them souls in exchange for a luxurious life-style, while the demons gorged and made earth their side-lined soul-hunting grounds. When the demon lords boasted about their latest savagery during such Conclave gatherings, no one batted an eye in protest, especially not their suppliers, the humans themselves. Even to their own kind, humans were despicably greedy.

Ergo, there wouldn’t be an issue if he just did it…

Except he found the practice spineless…

He despised humans for what they did to his kind, and generally their abhorrent behaviour, but sneaking on easy prey and cowardly kills was not the way of the warrior wolf. They faced their targets head on, and on equal footing. Unarmed humans were just too pitiful to kill. Besides, this human was no longer a threat, and tomorrow he would remember nothing of this. He would be thirsty like he had spent days in the desert, then sport a splitting headache for the next few days and he would go back to his carefree life.

Slight movement caught the corner of his eye and he looked down. His eyes widened: the human was moving. Was he trying to open his eyes? Impossible. The pain he had inflicted, he knew, would be unbearable, excruciating even. Lower demons with the strength and vitality of five human men would have succumbed by now. Yet, this small human, somehow… What was he trying to do? By fighting it, he was only causing more pain for himself.

‘Ma-ra… Mara,’ he moaned, his voice breaking.

Mammon had never used his power on a human before, but judging the effect it had on his enemies, he had considerably reduced its potency, just enough so not to kill or permanently damage the man. Maybe he had been too gentle.

‘Where is she? Please don-… don’t hurt h-her.’ The more he spoke, the more in pain he sounded.

Fool.

No matter how strong willed he was, if he kept this up, he would only be hurting himself more. After a short pause, Mammon walked to Mara’s studio. When he returned, he squatted beside the human who was now sweating profusely and could no longer utter words. Mammon pressed a folded piece of paper into his hand.

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For the second time that night, his old memories flooded in, remembering a time when he knew what it was like to suffer under the grip of this power. He was thin and frail back then, and stubbornly tried to fight it too, just like this halfwit. But no matter how weak he was, he was still a demon wolf. Not only did he have to survive the attacks, he had to conquer this power; to master it, in order to gain the respect of his clan. It had never amounted to anything, no matter what he did. Not until Lucious came along and chose him. He felt then what it was like to be regarded with true respect. What could this human be holding on to? What could he possibly have to prove?

‘Ma-ra… please…’ the human trembled.

He reached for the human’s forehead and felt his temperature. It was much higher than normal. Maybe he did use too much of his power.

This mortal, maybe he did not have powers like Mara, but he was different. He took this pain, embraced it and refused to give in. That commanded respect. He was worthy of some.

Something held Mammon in place, close to the man. He had decided that at the very least, he would not leave him on the floor. He lifted him in his arms with minimal effort and felt his head tilt on his chest. His racing, shivering breaths became shallow and slowed down as he finally passed out. The man was strong-willed, but the mind does not always command the body.

He placed the human on the sofa, picked up and put his glasses on the coffee table, then he turned off the light and checked on him one last time. His body was already relaxing as he drifted further into a deep sleep; his sweats and shivers were disappearing. The darkness was always useful against the effects of his power. Mammon pulled a blanket he found by the sofa and placed it over him. He checked the note one final time. It was still there, clutched in his hand.

Crouching next to Shiro, he concentrated and in the next moment, the two vanished.

**

The first few rays of sunlight invaded Mara’s living room, and Haru opened his eyes. His eyelids were heavy, his vision blurry, and the morning light felt like stabbing rays. He reached over to protect his eyes from this natural but vicious attack, only to scrunch up a piece of paper in his face. He let it fall on the sofa. Between moans and groans, he felt his voice croaky, as if he had spent the night shouting it raw. And he was fiendishly thirsty!

He attempted to lift himself from the sofa, but only managed his head before it fell back on the cushion. Every inch of his body hurt, and he felt like he weighed five times his normal weight.

Had he been drinking? Fighting? Both?!

Though instead of fighting, maybe he was just beaten up. He couldn’t remember, but his body was trying to tell him a vivid tale. Then he felt himself quite constricted under a blanket and he had slept in his clothes. He squinted across the room enough to realise this was not his house. With more grunts of pain and holding his head, he forced himself to sit up, finally recognising Mara’s flat. When he moved to get up, his hand pressed against the small piece of paper he had dismissed earlier. This time he unfolded it, and it read:

Drink some water, you will be very thirsty.

Mara is safe.

He grabbed his glasses and read the note again and again, his breathing becoming increasingly erratic. He shot himself up, his pain nearly forgotten, but his panic was far greater. Wracking his brain, he wrestled for the missing pieces of the previous night. That's right, he came looking for Mara, but she wasn’t here, only Shiro… . He reached for his phone in his pocket and checked it, but there were no messages or missed calls. His hands trembled. There had been something else, someone else... silver eyes…

Haru gasped.

He made a start for the door, but his head pounded so hard it forced him to his knees, and he held it. He kept his eyes shut as it helped with the throbbing.

In flashes, he saw sharp, shinning eyes coming for him. His face was covered, the man with silver hair. Nothing made sense! He couldn’t tell real from dream anymore; his mind felt as though it would break if he pushed too hard.

One thing at least he knew felt real: That piece of paper he now squeezed in his hand. It did not just write itself.