He didn’t flinch, only smiled, welcoming my move.
“Paris, I?—”
The air rippled, golden clouds ringed by black lines manifested before us.
“Fuck.” Paris sprang to his feet as his crystal blade appeared.
I did the same.
Aidan as Hal laughed, freshly scrubbed and dressed in black with a long gray coat.
“Oops,” he said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” His molten gold gaze locked onto Paris. “Like my new look?”
Paris snorted, his fingers visibly tight around the dagger’s hilt, and projecting menace when the horror of seeing his friend clearly flashed in his eyes.
“As much as I like a kick in the balls,” the elf returned.
Aidan smirked. “Is that how you speak to your lover?”
Paris grimaced. “Stop chatting out of your arse.”
“But you fucked this mage, didn’t you? He’s mentioned it a few times.”
Paris took a step forward. “Is this your attempt to screw with my head? Kind of shit, huh?”
Aidan chuckled. “You’re rather arrogant for a puppet.”
Paris showed him his middle finger.
“A finger that’s been inside this body several times,” Aidan responded.
I bristled, ready to step between them.
“If I’m a puppet, then what are you?” Paris answered. “Because you’re only occupying his body because of me. Without me, you’re nothing but a walking corpse.”
The deity did not appreciate that. “This is merely temporary, elf. You will do well to remember who I am, and the threat I pose. Dark days are coming.”
“When you’re off my leash, you mean?” Paris rebutted. “Not happening, dickhead.”
Aidan’s lips curled into a smile. “We’ll see.”
“You’ve got that right,” Paris countered.
Aidan tilted his head. “Meaning what?”
“Oh. You shitting yourself?”
“Hardly. Silly puppets are no match for me.”
Paris rushed in a sudden burst of speed, driving the crystal dagger into his chest, twisting it, growling as he severed flesh and sinew.
Only, no blood flowed from the messy hole he’d made. The deity let it happen with a wide grin on Hal’s face.
Paris pulled back, his weapon vanishing. The bloodless wound in Hal’s chest closed.
“You’re lucky I’m in here,” Aidan said, pointing at himself. “If not, you would have killed your lover.”
Paris summoned his stakeblade. “Let him go.”
