Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All the resemblances are completely coincidental. All the characters, situations, and everything else in the story is owned by myself beloved. Contains descriptive sexual scenes between males. If you are not supposed to read it, do not read it! Feel free to e-mail me.
This is a sequel to Specter' Gamble </nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/specters-gamble/>. You don't have to read the first one in order to get this one, but it would make it easier to understand the characters in this story.
- XIV -
He didn't even care what he was putting on right now. All that mattered was the fact that he had pants, shirt, and shoes. Pants and shirt were taken care of, and shoes were by the front door. He stopped by the bathroom mirror, ran a brush over his messed up hair a couple of times, and wrapped a hair band around his hastily made ponytail.
He walked out of the bedroom and stopped by a closed door. A dark vindictive smile ran across his mouth and he swung the door open, not even bothering to be quiet. The dog was sleeping by the bed, and the minute he saw Desmond's expression, he tried to make himself invisible. Desmond ignored the dog and walked up to the bed. Sam was sleeping on his back, his mouth slightly open, expression peaceful.
"Snoozing, aren't we..." Desmond muttered and yanked off the blanket. "Wake up, kid!" he said loudly. "Sun is shining, birds are chirping!"
Sam muttered something and rolled onto his side. Desmond let out dark satisfied laughter and shook him by the shoulder.
"Kid, wake up!" he said even louder, and the dog carefully shoved his muzzle onto the bed. "Dog," Desmond said without even looking at him. "If you know what's good for you, get the hell away from me!"
The dog blinked nervously but didn't move.
"Wake up!" Desmond barked, and finally, Sam stirred and peeled his eyes open.
"What..." he muttered sleepily. "Desmond, what do you want...?"
"I want you awake," Desmond nodded energetically. "Up!"
Sam groaned and sat up. He looked at the clock and blinked in disbelief.
"Desmond, it's not even eight in the morning! What the hell..."
"I know perfectly what time it is," Desmond let out yet another dark laughter. "I also remember what time I went to bed last night, thanks to someone..."
"I wasn't the one keeping you awake until God knows how late..." Sam muttered and rubbed his eyes. "I fell asleep around two-thirty, and you two were still going at it..."
"Yeah, well," Desmond shrugged. "Rayhe got up at seven so I couldn't do this to him, but I can do it to you, so... Up!" he nodded very energetically. "Come on, come on, get your ass out of that bed... If I am awake, then so are you..."
"Desmond, just go away..." Sam moaned and made an attempt to crawl underneath the blanket.
"Oh, no you don't!" Desmond yanked the blanket off the bed. "Get up!"
Sam groaned something unintelligible and got out of the bed.
"I am going to take a shower..." he grumbled and went to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
Desmond nodded at that, went out of the bedroom, made his way to the garage, and swiftly turned the hot water valve into the `off' position. Then he went into the kitchen and grabbed a clean mug off the shelf.
"You turned the hot water off, didn't you?" Gabriel asked without looking up from his newspapers. He looked refreshed as ever.
"Yup," Desmond nodded and grabbed a toast off Gabriel's plate.
He sat down, munching on the toast and drinking his coffee, and when there was an outraged high-pitched shriek from Sam's bathroom, he just smiled with great satisfaction and nodded to himself.
"If that doesn't wake him up, then I don't know what will," he said in a low voice.
Gabriel sighed and lowered his newspapers.
"You know," he said thoughtfully. "Sometimes I wonder which one of you is older... You *do *realize that he will do something to you soon enough, don't you?"
"Yup," Desmond nodded again. "Keeps life interesting."
Gabriel sighed once again, got up, and refilled his mug.
"Get off your ass and make your own damn toast," he said when he came back, and grabbed the second slice out of Desmond's hand. "It's not that difficult. You shove the bread into the toaster, push the button..." He sat down, reaching for the newspapers.
"I am full anyway," Desmond shrugged indifferently, and Rayhe just looked at him for several seconds with narrowed eyes. Finally, he rolled his eyes, slammed the toast on the plate, pushed it towards Desmond, and got up.
"Goddammit..." he muttered. "I was awake before you, just so you know..."
"Could've made more toast," Desmond said with his mouthful. "It's not like you didn't have the time..."
Gabriel didn't even bother with the reply.
"Here," Desmond handed him a piece of paper when he got back to the table. "The name."
"What name?" Gabriel frowned with confusion.
"Do you remember the conversation that took part last night?" Desmond finished the toast and wiped his hands on his pants. "Now, when you think of last night, try to recall the conversation part only, I know how easily distracted you are..."
Gabriel blinked several times, and then there was an `Oh, yeah!' expression on his face.
"Right, right," he muttered and put the paper into his pocket. "God, how can you remember every single damn little thing?"
"Not that little," Desmond threw him a dark look. "It's bothering me, Rayhe, and I hate the feeling... Especially when it comes to..."
"Desmond, I am going to kill you!"
"...him," Desmond finished with a small nod.
"Are you out of your mind?! Do you have any idea how cold that water was?"
"I have an idea," Desmond looked up with angelic smile. "My, don't you look refreshed! Here, have some toast..."
"Give me back my plate before I strangle you!"
"God, you people are cranky in the morning!" Desmond got up swiftly and grabbed his car keys. "Well, I am off, have a good day everyone!"
He walked to the front door, put his shoes on, and walked outside after waving a brief `good-bye' to both very fuming faces. His good mood evaporated slightly after he was hit by still very present scent of apple once he got into his car. He rolled down all the windows and immediately lit a cigarette. By the time he got to school, the smell was somewhat better, so he rolled up all the windows, making sure that the finished cigarette stays in the ashtray.
"I hate apples," he muttered and got out of the car.
...His office didn't look too bad, he realized to his greatest satisfaction. Was a little dusty and stuffed-aired, but nothing some nice breeze and quick broom run couldn't fix. He finished with the broom in less than fifteen minutes and started going through every single drawer in his desk, which was plenty. After ten minutes or so, he tutted rather loudly, slammed the drawer shut, and got up.
"How in the world does one end up with so much useless junk?" he muttered, digging in the little closet by the door. "I thought I threw all of that crap away before the end of the year... Dammit..."
He emerged from the closet with several big plastic garbage bags, sighed, ripped one of them open, and went back to his desk. He opened the first drawer, stared inside for a minute, sighed once again, and said philosophically:
"At least it'll be clean by the end of the week..."
He started pulling old papers, broken pencils, and some ripped-up books from the drawer without even bothering to look at them first, and shoving all of that into the plastic bag.
"You know," someone said thoughtfully behind him and he turned his head. "I could help you with that..."
"Oh, hey Tess," Desmond nodded. "No, thank you. I don't trust magic."
"I wouldn't trust magic as well if I were you," she nodded energetically, walked inside, and sat down in one of the chairs. "With your amazing lack of ability, you would end up doing something drastically opposite of the set goal. I do trust magic, however, as long as it comes from someone who knows what they are doing... Like yours truly," she added with a sly smile.
"Yeah, I know," he grinned. "But you see, cleaning out the desk is not something for the battle mage to do."
"Pfft!" she said contemptuously and blew a curly strand of strikingly red hair off her forehead. "Step aside, Rae, let me show you how it's done..."
"Tess, leave my garbage to me, will you...? Tess, seriously... Tess... Ah, goddammit..."
He stepped aside quickly after seeing her narrowing eyes, and knowing from personal experience that this woman was amazingly stubborn. She was unbelievably good with battle magic; she was good at other kinds as well, but when it came to battle magic, Tess DeCrusse was number one on the list. She was a very petite skinny woman; she stood maybe 5'2 if not less, and she weighed about ninety pounds soaking wet, but even with that tiny frame, she managed to look beyond intimidating.
Whenever she had something stuck in that stubborn, incredibly red-haired head of hers, she would go through with it, even if it was something as trivial as cleaning out Desmond's desk. Desmond had no desire to get hit by the wave of whatever-magical-crap she was about to unleash on his desk, so he back-pedaled rather quickly. She muttered something under her breath, squinted her eyes, and nodded very firmly. There was a weak popping sound, the desk flamed dark-red for a second or two, and then everything was back to normal.
"See?" she looked at him with just enough smugness. "Easy as pie."
Desmond sighed and went back to his desk. He looked through every single drawer, and had to admit that it would take him probably until the end of the week to get the damn desk cleaned out so thoroughly. "And I didn't waste any garbage bags," he thought solemnly.
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "I still don't trust magic. If all that crap will double itself in a week or so because you managed to screw something up..."
"Rae," she sighed. "I don't screw things up, you should know that by now."
Yeah, he knew that.
"What's up, Tess?" he shoved the empty trash bags back into the closet and closed the doors.
"Just saw that you are here," she shrugged. "Decided to help a fellow-teacher out, nothing wrong with that..."
"Uh huh," Desmond narrowed his eyes. "You are brilliant at magic, Tess, but you suck at lying. What's up?"
She sighed and nodded.
"I practice all the time," she said with regret. "Looks right in front of the mirror..."
"Yeah, well," he shrugged. "It's kinda hard to make me to believe a lie... I sense it, you know?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "I've heard some wild stories that even Richie Zabrowski couldn't fool you..."
Richie Zabrowski was a junior (well, senior as of this semester) who was very famous for his lying skills. That boy could make Claudia herself believe the crap he came up with; the kid was a natural. He would always have a different, incredibly believable excuse for every time he didn't turn in his assignment on time or every time he missed a test. What was even more amazing, he could actually back up his lies. As a result, he would always breeze through all his classes, without any problems with missed deadlines, re-taking the tests, or skipped classes.
When he tried his routines on Desmond, however, he crashed and burned almost immediately. Desmond would listen to him, admiring his acting ability, and his impressive imagination, but at the end, he would always give him the same answer: "There is nothing I can do for you, master Zabrowski because I know that you are lying through your teeth and I can prove it." After several F's for the missed deadlines and skipped tests, Richie finally gave up, and started showing up for every single one of Desmond's classes.
There was one single time when Richie missed a test for a very normal and trivial reason – he managed to get into a fender-bender. When he told that to Desmond, he looked desperate, as if knowing that Desmond would not believe his single word. However, that time, every single one of Desmond's inner alarms remained off, and he simply nodded and told Richie to come back next morning so he could re-take the test. Richie's expression was indescribable. He stood there, staring at Desmond for good ten minutes with his eyes wide and mouth agape. Finally, Desmond sighed, looked up, and told him to get the hell out of his office.
"How..." Richie muttered, still staring at him with mix of disbelief and awe. "How did you know I wasn't lying...?"
"I just did," Desmond shrugged. "Now get out and come back tomorrow morning."
..."He couldn't," Desmond said simply. "Now stop admiring my lie-sensing detectors and tell me what it was that brought you here."
"Wanna go for a walk?" Tess offered.
"That works," Desmond shrugged, glancing around his office. Hell, now he wouldn't have to come back here until the actual beginning of the semester. He could get as much sleep as he wanted, he thought. Rayhe will be green with envy when he tells him he managed to score an extra week off, he thought, and it made him smile.
They went outside, late August sun slowly raising the heat, as if remembering about its duties. It wasn't hot right now, not by any means. It will be, in a few hours, but right now, it was perfect. Desmond thought that in a few hours he'd be back at home, alone in the bed, snoozing peacefully, and that made him feel even better. Magic *could *come in handy sometimes, he had to admit that.
"So, spill, Tess," he said a few minutes later, a cigarette stuck between his teeth.
"Well," she sighed. "I just wanted to talk to you about the upcoming year."
He blinked and stared at her.
"That's all?" he asked incredulously. "You wanted to know if I had my planner updated?"
"The upcoming year, Desmond," she frowned slightly. "Not the semester...Year..."
"I got it," he nodded. "And yes, my planner is good to go!"
She shook her head with frustration.
"Desmond, don't tell me you are unaware of what year this is!"
He frowned and dragged on his cigarette.
"Umm," he thought for a few seconds. "A year of the Frog?" he said finally, and Tess rolled her eyes.
"Good God..." she muttered. "First of all, it's not the year of the Frog, Desmond. It's the year of the Flaming Lizard..."
"Oh, right," he hemmed. "The year of the Salamander..." he dragged on his cigarette. "They must be bursting with pride..."
She let out a small smile.
"I don't think they like to be called Flaming-Lizard family," she said in a low voice.
"That's what a salamander is," Desmond snorted. "A flaming freaking lizard!"
"You don't like them, do you?" Tess hemmed.
"And you do?" he looked at her pointedly.
"True," she agreed. "That's beside the point, however. See, this year is not just the year of the Flaming Lizard, which is an event of its own... Only happens every fifty years or so... But this is also the year of the Winter Equinox. The Winter Equinox is also a big deal on its own because it happens every twenty-three years. However, the year of the Flaming Lizard * and *Winter Equinox at the same time, is more than just a big deal. See..."
"Hold on," Desmond narrowed his eyes and flicked his cigarette away just so he could get another one. "Why is the Winter Equinox such a big deal? Shouldn't it happen every year?"
"The autumn and spring equinoxes are the annual things," Tess nodded. "However, the Winter Equinox only happens once every twenty-three years.... Has something to do with the certain Sun position," she explained patiently. "Do you really want me to burst into a lecture right now?" she narrowed her eyes.
"No," Desmond shook his head immediately. "Not really."
"Thought so," she nodded. "Anyway, this year is extremely important... The last time something like this happened, was about..." she frowned thoughtfully. "It was about ninety-eight years ago," she finally nodded slowly. "And that time, we almost had a major catastrophe on our hands..."
"We?" Desmond squinted his eyes. "As in `Good side'?" he made air quotes with his fingers.
"Both sides," Tess answered seriously, and he blinked. "Yeah," she nodded. "See, even with the Guardians issue aside..." she took a deep breath. "The only thing either side is concerned about right now is the balance of power. At the moment, Reagan is the strongest one for obvious reasons. However, this year..." she glanced at Desmond. "Could I have one of those?" she nodded at his cigarette, and he narrowed his eyes.
"I thought you don't smoke," he said.
"I don't, usually," she shrugged.
"I see," he nodded.
He offered her a pack and she smoothly fished one out. He lit it for her, and she gave him a small `Thank-you' nod.
"Anyway," she carefully dragged on the cigarette. "This year is different... See, this year, every single road is wide open..."
"Every single road," Desmond repeated, and Tess sighed.
"You didn't really pay any attention in your Magical Arts studies, did you?" she said tiredly.
"Not really," he shrugged.
"Figured," she nodded. "See, if it's a year of the Flaming Lizard *and *Winter Equinox combined, that means that the magical streams are overly sensitive... Therefore, roughly speaking, anything is possible. If someone is educated and dedicated enough, they could bring back one of the Old Ones..."
"Wow," Desmond interrupted her, waving his cigarette in the air. "The Old Ones? Tess, that's a myth!"
"No, it's not," she said quietly, and Desmond stopped talking. "Desmond, before the only-one-God time, there was the time of the Old Ones... Well, that's what it's called now," she shrugged. "I have no idea what they called it back then. However, the Old Ones are not a myth. It's real. See, the God we know now is vengeful, yes, but it's also extremely powerful. That is how it was able to incapacitate all the Old Ones. There is one time, however, when the Old Ones could get their revenge, and the God we know wouldn't be able to do anything, no matter how powerful it is... Even the God itself cannot control the Sun. So, every hundred give-or-take years, the Old Ones have their opportunity to come back..."
"This year is one of those opportunities then..." Desmond said very calmly, and Tess nodded.
"Yes. Now, they won't be able to come back all at once, that is impossible, but once one of them is free..."
"They will bring the rest out of the play-pen," Desmond finished dully, and she nodded once again.
"Correct. That would be a very bad thing for the human kind," she dragged on the cigarette once more. "The Old Ones are not very fond of humans, you see... Humans were the ones who sided with the new God and helped it to lock all of them away... So, if they were to come back..."
"They would wipe the humans off the face of the planet," Desmond said very thoughtfully.
"Correct," Tess nodded again. "All of them except for the one who helped them to return. That one would be invincible to everything. That particular human would become their favorite pet... Immortality, eternal youth, power..." She shrugged. "You name it. The problem with this kind of an event.... I am talking about this kind of a year... Is that it is entirely possible for someone who is dedicated and educated enough to make this happen."
"You said the last time it happened, it was about ninety-eight years ago..." Desmond said slowly. "What happened then?"
Tess sighed, took a last drag on a cigarette, and tossed it away. Desmond offered her a pack once more, and she looked like she was about to shake her head in a `No-thank-you' gesture, but at the last second, she changed her mind and grabbed another one.
"That one time," she said slowly after Desmond lit the cigarette for her. "As I said before, we almost had a major catastrophe on our hands... Whoever was trying to get one of the Old Ones to come back, had a perfect tool... A sacrifice. They had a person whose birthday fell on Winter Equinox, and who would turn twenty-three on that particular day... Once they would make that sacrifice, all chains would fall off, you see... Whichever of the Old Ones they wished to bring back, would have a green light once the sacrifice is made.... There is no way back once the sacrifice is made... Well, one of the side..." She threw a sideways glance at Desmond. "The `Evil' one," she nodded. "...figured out who the sacrifice would be right before the whole event happened. They killed her right before the sacrifice took place; that's how they prevented the catastrophe..." She took a nervous drag on her cigarette, and Desmond started having very bad feelings.
"Hold on..." he muttered, his eyes fixed on something only he could see. "Hold on... When is the Winter Equinox...?"
"February fourteenth," Tess nodded.
"That's Sam's birthday..." he muttered, feeling incredibly cold all of a sudden, even though the sun was fulfilling its duties by now.
"Sam...?" Tess frowned. "The boy who lives with you...?"
"Well..." Desmond tried to shrug. It worked but only partially. "He is not a boy, really, not anymore, but yeah... That's him..."
"How old is he going to be?" Tess lowered her cigarette, and Desmond closed his eyes.
"Son of a bitch..." he muttered. "Twenty-three..."
Tess stared at him without blinking and he dropped his half-smoked cigarette onto the ground, without even noticing it.