Chapter Text
Alastor was sitting in an armchair in his room, his nose in a book when he heard Lyra cry out. He set the book down and listened, but there was no other commotion. Perhaps she suffered from nightmares. He heard the balcony doors swing open and he turned himself into shadow and crept out onto his own balcony. She had a panicked look on her face as she raced over to the railing and took in her surroundings. She looked down and all of the blood left her face. She stumbled backwards, nearly knocking over the table before steadying herself and putting her back and palms against the wall. Was she afraid of heights? She was breathing heavily and slid down to a seated position, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Something had obviously startled her. He watched as her breathing became more even, but a range of emotions came over her face. The panic and fear were traded for anger, and then that was replaced with a look of desperate grief that had him instinctively moving his feet toward her. He stopped himself once he realized what was happening and kept to his own balcony. What a curious reaction. She was obviously plagued by a memory of something, and he wished he knew what secrets she held in that mind of hers. She stood suddenly and went back into her room. Alastor walked back into his own and had just sat back down in his armchair when he heard the door to her room open and close. Where was she going now?
He turned himself into shadow again and crept out into the hallway, following closely as she padded down the hall. Her footsteps were remarkably quiet, no doubt a perk of the foxlike features of her demon form. He followed her into the elevator, and she pressed the button for the second floor. She must have decided to take her own little tour while she was awake. Once out of the elevators she opened the first doors that she came to. Ah, the entertainment lounge. He smiled as her face lit up when she took it in. She made a beeline for the stage, drawn to it like a moth to flame. She turned on the stage lights then ran her hand along the top of his piano before lifting the lid and brushing her fingers along the keys.
She made no effort to turn the microphone on, likely that she didn’t want to wake anyone. As she let her fingers hover over the keys, she looked almost afraid. The moment her fingers stroked the ivory though, the confidence returned to her face. She played something instrumental at first, likely warming up her hands. He heard the music shift, the song changing, and she began to sing, “I will be your shoulder to cry on…I will make you laugh if you need…I will play the part if you say so…Yeah I’ll be anybody but me…”
He normally didn’t like others to touch his piano, but she was quite good. He didn’t recognize the song, it was probably long after his time, but the words were a bit more melancholy than the opening of the song had let on. He could hear the hurt in her voice as she sang, and she continued to get louder as she got more comfortable. Seeing her sing like this was different, she was more vulnerable without the eyes of anyone on her. The mask that she was so careful to wear in front of everyone was nowhere to be seen.
“To tell you the truth I’m a mess, I’m a fool…you don’t know that…and you never will, in my mind it’s instilled not to show that…I spend almost all of my time…feeling like I’m falling even further behind…and I know, I’m so good at seeming like I’m not on the edge of a knife...I’m the pretender…What can I tell you? Designed to deceive…So tell me who you want me to be…” Her voice nearly broke on the last line and then the violet light of her magic took over the deep ruby of her eyes. “I can wear a million faces…Cause I don’t like the one underneath…always found it easy to fake it…yeah I’ll be anybody but me…To tell you the truth I’m the fraud in the room and I know that…but you never will…In my mind, it’s instilled not to show that…”
He was having difficulty reading the emotions on her face. There was grief but also…was that guilt? Yes, but what had she done that brought this about? She certainly hadn’t shown remorse after killing the demon that attacked her, so he didn’t think it was that. She had remembered something on that balcony, he had seen the same look on her face there. It was exasperating trying to fit the pieces together. Things would be so much simpler if she were to just give him the answers he wanted when he asked her questions. But she just skirted around them expertly, refusing to reveal anything of use. She was quite the pretender, as the song suggested. Alastor could feel the power radiating off of her from all the way at the back of the room. If he had been of a weaker mind, he would undoubtedly be under her spell and at her mercy. She really had been holding back before with her magic. “…I feel like everything I do is a lie…and all the words just further pull the wool over eyes…I know, I’m no good at being who I am away from the light…I’m the pretender, what can I tell you? And I’m an imposter, but hell is a mender…I’m the pretender...What can I tell you? Designed to deceive…” She had looked up from the piano and even though he knew that she couldn’t see him, he felt as if her gaze pierced right through him. It was strange to see her with her guard down, but without all of her defenses up, the look in her eyes seemed…familiar. He felt almost guilty for intruding…almost. At that moment his vision changed.
One moment, he was staring at Vox. He had been in the midst of unleashing his inner demon, preparing to strike. The next moment he was in a graveyard, in a body that was familiar but strange to him after so many decades. He looked down at himself and at the lightly tanned skin of his hands where there had been extended claws only moments ago. He ran a hand through his hair and touched the rims of the glasses he was now wearing. His vision was blurred with them on since he was dead and no longer needed them, and he took them off and placed them in his pocket. He felt like his center of gravity was off, like he was at least a foot shorter than he should be. He felt…empty, like his powers had been ripped from him. When he tried to access them, he found he was correct. He was completely, ordinarily human...still dead…but human all the same.
His memories of this place came flooding back to him. Most of the memories had returned to him in Hell after a time, but not all of them. He glanced up to see Samedi staring back at him with a smile on his face. Alastor kept his own smile up as he stared at the man that he hated more than anyone. While Samedi had ensured that he had no choice in the matter in his demon form, he chose to keep the smile in place while in his presence. He wouldn’t let the Loa have the satisfaction of seeing him any other way. The smile in Hell was his curse for accepting their deal. He had pointed out a loophole while making his bargain with Samedi and demanded that he remember how to use the power he was given and where it came from. It had irritated Samedi that Alastor had noticed the loophole, and Alastor had smiled at the small victory. Samedi smiled back and agreed, not informing Alastor that he had simply traded one curse for another.
The Loa blew a ring of cigar smoke in his face, “Alastor, so good to see you again.”
“Samedi,” he said curtly.
The Loa smiled at him wider, “Ah, ah. Have you lost all of your manners during your time in Hell. It’s Baron Samedi. Titles are very important…they ensure that the proper respect is paid to your betters.”
Alastor said nothing at the insult, he just kept smiling at the man.
Samedi wagged his finger at him and made a tsking sound. “Not to worry my friend, we have seven years to reteach you those old tricks. And perhaps we’ll teach you some new ones while you’re here if you behave, little demon."
Alastor’s jaw clenched, he hated when they called him that…hated when they spoke to him in a condescending tone like he was nothing more than a small child. Brigitte stood next to him, wearing those sheer scraps of violet and black cloth that she called a dress. She saw him glance over at her and grinned at him, taking it as an invitation to approach. She sauntered over to him and grabbed his chin, turning him to her. “I did miss this pretty face,” she said seductively. Alastor instinctively flinched and took a step back, wrenching himself from her grasp. She laughed and trailed her finger down his chest, “Don’t tell me you didn’t miss me too?”
He ignored her teasing and took another step away from her, “Why now?” he asked.
Samedi looked at him with mock confusion. “Why now what?” he asked.
Alastor bit back the irritation from his voice and forced himself to remain calm. “Why have you brought me back now…at this moment? Why was I given no warning first?” he asked.
“Now where in our agreement does it say that I have to warn you before I bring you here to renew your bond?” Alastor said nothing because there was nothing to say. The agreement only stated that he must return here every few decades whenever Samedi felt like their bond had grown weaker. It said nothing about how or when exactly he was to return. It had been over eight decades, and Alastor had held up the hope that they had simply forgotten about him.
“You’re here, because my husband willed it…but also because there are introductions to be made,” she said with giddiness. She turned and gestured to the woman beside her, who was barefoot and was wearing what looked like a hospital gown.
She must have died just minutes ago then, if she hadn’t even had time to change clothes. He had been too caught up with the two Loa to notice her before. She looked to be in her late 20s and was staring wide-eyed, taking in everyone and everything around her. She was shorter in stature, standing at about 5 feet, with long auburn hair that fell in loose waves. Her eyes were a deep blue that shone as if someone had carved them out and replaced them with sapphires so that they would catch the light perfectly. The woman’s eyes flicked to him, and she looked him up and down in an assessing manner, sizing him up as if she was trying to decide if he was a threat. Under different circumstances, he would have found that amusing. But he suppressed that amusement and glared at her, forcing the smile to remain on his face.
His eyes went back to Samedi. “So, I’ve been brought here to what…mentor the newest fool to make a deal with you?” He put as much malice into the question as he could muster. He saw the hurt flash across her eyes, but he gave her no indication that he had. He knew it wasn’t her fault, not really. He himself had been tricked by the Loa when he had died. But right now, he was angry, and he couldn’t direct it toward the one he was angry at without powers or any way to protect himself.
“Not just any fool,” Samedi said. He saw a furious look flash across the woman’s eyes at the insult. “She is destined for Hell along with you when she completes her time here. Brigitte has offered her power in exchange for her cooperation in Hell, as I have done with you,” said Samedi.
“We thought the two of you might like to get to know each other, since you’ll likely meet again in your eternity there,” Brigitte said sweetly. She placed a finger on her lip like she had just remembered something, “Of course, you two probably won’t recognize the other in your demon forms…or remember each other at all for that matter. Ah well, C’est la vie,” she finished with a breathy laugh. Alastor grit his teeth together in irritation.
“Well, we’ll leave you two to it then. Why don’t you show her to the château, hmm? We saved your room for you just as you left it, she can have the one next to it. We expect you both next to the bonfire before the sun sets,” said Samedi.
Before Alastor was given a chance to respond, the two Loa disappeared with a wisp of smoke, leaving the two of them alone. As soon as the Loa had gone he let the smile fall from his face. The expression felt strange after so long being forced to wear that smile in Hell. He walked past her, his shoulder catching hers as he did so, but he didn’t stop to apologize as he continued. When he didn’t hear her footsteps behind him, he turned around, “Follow or don’t, but don’t expect me to come looking for you when you get lost.” He saw the loathing in those sapphire blue eyes before he turned and began walking again. Good, it would be easier for both of them that way.
The vision cleared and he shook his head. Another memory. He knew now that they had been from his recent time at The Gates and recognized the woman he had seen himself carrying last night. That vision from last night had been the first he had received since arriving back in Hell two months ago. His head began to pound as he tried to think back on what he had just seen, but he just shook his head and decided to ponder it later when he was alone. He looked back at Lyra. The violet light had left, and her eyes had returned to their natural red. It was not common for a sinner to have that much power without bargaining for it, but not impossible. This kind of power could not fall into the hands of another overlord. He needed her to think that there was something he could offer her, maybe even teach her about her magic. He needed to find some way to convince her, trick her, if need be, into allowing him and only him access to that power. He wasn’t sure if she would be willing to trade her soul, not yet anyway, but perhaps he could convince her to negotiate on the use of her blood. He snapped his attention away from her as he heard another voice in the room and realized that he had been so caught up with her performance, that he hadn’t seen Angel and Husker enter the room.
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As she finished the song, Lyra felt much more at ease. It felt good to let everything off of her chest. She stared at the piano keys, thinking she might sing one more before going to bed, but her eyes snapped up when she heard, “Well that was the most depressing fuckin’ song I’ve ever heard in my life.” She looked up, a bit startled to see Angel Dust and Husker lounging in a couple of the chairs in front of the stage, drinks in hand.
“Oh! Sorry, I thought I was alone,” said Lyra trying to keep the panic out of her voice.
“You got pipes, kid” said Husk before taking a sip of his drink.
She smiled a bit at the compliment, sure that he didn’t give those out often. “Thanks,” she said almost timidly.
“So, is that the kind of music you usually sing? When you said you was a performer, I imagined some dancing, maybe something with a bit more, I don’t know, pizazz,” said Angel, doing an impression of jazz hands.
She smirked at him, “I sing all kinds of music, Angel.”
He smiled back at her “Well go on then, we’re here for the show. Play something just for me,” and winked at her.
She thought for a moment, then grinned wickedly. “I think you’ll like this one,” she said.
Lyra began the lively tune on the piano and heard him say “I’m not really into show tunes, toots.”
She just smiled and continued playing, “I ache for the touch of your lips, dear…But much more for the touch of your whips, dear…You can raise welts, like nobody else…As we dance to the Masochism Tango.”
“Oh kinky!” she heard him say.
“Let our love be a flame, not an ember…say it’s me that you want to dismember…blacken my eye, set fire to my tie! As we dance to the masochism tango.” She let out a breathy chuckle at the look on Husk’s face and continued, tapping into her musical theater training and putting as much humor and drama into the words as she could. “And I envy the rose…that you held in your teeth, love…with the thorns underneath love…sticking into your gums…Your eyes cast a spell that bewitches…the last time I needed twenty stitches…to sew up that gash, that you made with your lash…as we danced to the masochism tango…” she struck the keys with a dramatic flourish as she finished the song. “Take your cigarette from its holder…and burn your initials in my shoulder…fracture my spine and swear that your mine…as we dance to the maso…chism tango!”
Angel clapped, and Lyra stood from the piano bench, giving a dramatic bow before sitting back down on the bench. Husk smiled at her “You got a fucked-up sense of humor, Lyra.”
“You have no idea,” she chuckled and then asked them, “Do either of you play?”
“Nah, Al doesn’t normally let anyone touch his piano. You’re lucky he ain’t here, we’d be getting a lecture instead of a show,” said Angel, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back.
Alastor popped up out of the shadows at that moment, sitting on the piano’s bench beside Lyra. “Nonsense,” he said, “I only said that you couldn’t play my piano, Angel. I have no problem with it being handled by a professional.” Lyra jumped in surprise, but Angel was so startled he nearly fell backwards in his chair. This drew a deep laugh from Husk.
“How many times do I gotta tell ya to not pop out like that! You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” said Angel.
Alastor ignored him, “What a delightfully sadistic tune that was my dear!”
Being this close to him had her remembering the taste of his blood. The thought of it had heat rising to her cheeks. She quickly turned her head away and focused her attention on the piano, running her fingers lightly over the keys. When she was sure the blush had left her face, she turned back to him and smiled, “So this is your piano? I didn’t know you played. Are you here to show me up?”
“He grinned back at her, “Well if you insist.” He laced his fingers together and stretched out his arms in front of him before placing his fingers on the keys. His hands glided effortlessly over them. She recognized the song before he began to sing and couldn’t help but smile, it was one of her favorites. “Hold me close and hold me fast…The magic spell you cast…This is la vie en rose. When you kiss me heaven sighs… and though I close my eyes…I see la vie en rose.” His voice was beautiful, the radio effect adding a depth to it that she hadn’t expected. Angel rolled his eyes, unimpressed, clearly used to Alastor’s exuberant showmanship. Alastor ignored him and continued, “When you press me to your heart…I’m in a world apart…a world where roses bloom…And when you speak, angels sing from above…everyday words seem to turn into love songs…Give your heart and soul to me,” she could have sworn she saw a bright green flash in his eyes during that line, “and life will always be, la vie en rose.”
Lyra decided to join in, making the song a duet. She started by adding small additions to the composition he was playing on the piano, then adding her voice into the mix, harmonizing with him. He looked over at her and gave her an encouraging smile. When the next verse started, she decided to challenge him a bit and began to sing in French. “Quand il me prend dans ses bras…il me parle tout bas…je vois la vie en rose…il me dit det mots d’amour…des mots de tous les jours…et ca me fait quelque chose…give your heart and soul to me…and life will always be…la vie en rose.”
His smile grew wider when he realized what she was doing. Not to be outdone, he stepped up the competition and began harmonizing with her in French as well. “Il est entre dans mon coeur…une part de bonheur…dont je cannais la cause…C’est toi pour moi, moi pour toi dans la vie…il me l’a dit, l’a jure pour la vie…” They switched back to English as the song came to an end, “Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be, la vie en rose.” The harmony of their voices together filled the room. Their fingers lightly grazed each other’s on the piano and the curious look in his eyes made her breath catch. Heat rose to her cheeks again, and she quickly moved her hand and turned her head away to face Angel and Husker.
Husk was glaring at Alastor in a way that she found curious, almost accusatory. Angel was looking back and forth between the two of them with raised eyebrows, “Great, now we got two of em’.”
Alastor ignored them, still smiling at Lyra, “I didn’t know you spoke French.”
“Oh, I don’t, well not fluently. I know a few basic words and phrases…most of what I know is from a handful of songs,” she said nervously fidgeting with her robe. The realization that she was in her pajamas had her feeling even more anxious. The scent of his cologne surrounded her, and she couldn’t focus with him sitting so close to her anymore. He gave her a knowing smile. Oh, he was good, and it was irritating. She didn’t normally get this flustered by men, especially when they weren’t doing anything but sitting next to her. She was usually the one that threw others off balance with flirtation, an act she had perfected a long time ago. She considered that she was just out of practice, since she hadn’t shown any interest in any man since Andy…Andrew, she reminded herself. She shoved the thought of him away and stood from the piano bench to put some space between herself and Alastor and replaced that mask of flirty confidence she had been wearing. “But there’s a lot that you don’t know about me just yet, I have quite a few talents, actually,” she finished playfully.
He stood from the bench, taking a step closer and looked down at her, he had to be at least 7 feet tall, if not more. The majority of demons seemed to be larger than humans, she herself was almost a foot taller now than when she had been alive. “Oh? Do tell,” he let his voice drop an octave. She could see he was enjoying this back and forth, delighting in the fact that he made her nervous. Fine, two could play this game.
She looked up at him, fluttering her eyelashes, and brought her hands to his chest, straightening his bowtie, “Well I can’t go around giving out all of my secrets now, can I?” she said, trailing her finger lightly over his chest and back up. She heard the sound of static and rapidly changing radio stations. He continued to smile at her, but his eyes had gone wide. She smiled at the response, feeling victorious, and let her hand fall away before turning to take the stairs down off the stage. He reached out to gently grab her wrist. To her surprise, she didn’t flinch from his touch. He didn’t hold pressure, and somehow, she knew that if she moved her arm away, he would let go.
He closed the space between them again, leaning down as close as he dared and whispered in her ear, “Perhaps just one then.” The heat of his breath on her ear made them twitch and sent a shiver running through her. He traced small circles on the inside of her wrist with his thumb.
Damn it all, he was too good at this. Her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest, but Lyra was determined to win this little game they were playing. She placed her hands back up to his chest and pulled the corner of his bowtie, successfully undoing the knot, and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. She trailed her fingers lightly over the exposed skin and leaned in closer, standing on the tips of her toes. She heard his breath catch and he swallowed. Her lips were a mere inch away from his jawline now. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she breathed as she grabbed his shirt in her fists lightly, a challenge in her voice. He reached up to grab hold of her wrists with his hands but didn’t move them away. He just held them in place, and she could feel how fast his heart was beating beneath them.
Husk cleared his throat loudly, drawing her attention away from Alastor and they both dropped their hands away from his chest. She had completely forgotten that they were here.
“What is it Husker?” Alastor’s neck snapped to the side, and he narrowed his eyes at the demon, clearly irritated at the interruption.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Husk asked gruffly.
“Can it not wait? I believe I was in the middle of a… conversation,” he said looking back at Lyra, who had taken a small step back.
“Is that what you two were doin?” said Angel in a sly tone. “I think we ought to leave and let them get back to ‘conversatin’ Husky.”
Husk rolled his eyes at the nickname. “Don’t fuckin’ call me that. And no, I don’t think it can,” said Husk.
Embarrassed at Angel’s suggestion about her and Alastor, Lyra chimed in nonchalantly, “I was actually getting ready to head back to sleep. I just came down for a drink and a bite to eat, since I slept through dinner.” She forced herself to turn away from Alastor and walked off the stage.
Alastor looked to her and then back to Husk, “Very well.” He picked up his cane that was leaning on the piano and twirled it. As he walked past Lyra he leaned over and whispered, “To be continued then. Sweet dreams, cher.”
Angel followed her out of the lounge, heading back up to his room too. The skin on Lyra’s wrist where Alastor had held them still felt hot. Once they were in the elevator and the doors closed, he looked over at her and waggled his eyebrows.
“What?” she asked, trying to sound indifferent.
“So, you and Smiles huh?” He asked, grinning at her.
Her mouth dropped open, she quickly closed it, “It’s not like that, I only met him a couple of days ago.”
Angel laughed, “Sweetheart that ain’t got nothing to do with anything. I’ve fucked plenty of people that I just met in a lot less time than that.”
She let out a chuckle, “Yeah well, it’s more complicated than that for me. I generally like to get to know someone first. I can assure you that I’m not sleeping with Alastor.”
“Could’ve fooled me…looked like you two were about to give us a little show.” Angel replied. “Listen toots, I’m a porn star, I know tension when I see it, and you and Al? That was tense. Either your leadin’ him on, he’s leadin’ you on, or you’re both lyin’ to yourselves.”
The door to the elevator opened and they stepped out. Lyra could feel guilt building up inside her again. Angel was right, she had led him on. What would she have done if it had just been the two of them? How far would she have let it go before turning him down? She felt terrible. What could she have said? ‘Oh sorry, I know I flirted with you and made it seem like I wanted to sleep with you, but I was actually just seeing how far I could take this because I was feeling competitive. Good night.’
But that duet…that had been incredible. Despite what most people thought, it was not always easy to sing with another person if you haven’t rehearsed with them before. It had felt like they had done that a thousand times, and they complimented each other very well. She’d be lying to herself if she said that she wasn’t attracted to him. There was something about him that just felt…familiar, as strange as that sounded. It was highly unusual for her to feel physically attracted to someone she just met. That part of her, the part that wanted physical intimacy, was complicated. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy being intimate with someone, she just needed to trust the other person enough to be that vulnerable with them. She hadn’t been with anyone in over five years. Andrew was the last man she had any feelings for, and he had betrayed that trust. They had been friends for a few years, and then eventually started dating. The last year of their relationship had been a bit strained, and when he proposed to her, she knew that she didn’t want to be with him anymore. She had told him she needed time to think about it, but when he had confronted her again, she had told him no. That was the moment that changed her life forever. He refused to accept her rejection, and he had taken what he wanted from her anyway, despite her begging him to stop. The final time that she had asked him to stop, he had grabbed her face and stuck his tongue down her throat to shut her up. A quiet rage overtook her in that moment, and she killed him to stop it. She hadn’t met anyone that she trusted enough to even think about being with them physically since that night. It was selfish of her to lead Alastor on when she was unsure if she wanted him that way yet.
“You alright? Look I didn’t mean anything by it, just forget I said anything, really,” Angel said, breaking her train of thought.
“No, it’s alright, I was just lost in thought. You’re right, I think I was leading him on a bit. And I appreciate the honesty really. You don’t ever have to apologize to me for calling me out. I can take it,” she smirked at him.
He gave her a sideways grin, “Careful what you ask for.” He opened the door to his room and walked inside.
Lyra took the next few steps to her door, closing it behind her and crawled back into her bed. She curled up on her side and let the radio lull her back to sleep. As she drifted off, she faintly heard one of her favorite songs playing, “Dream a Little Dream of Me.” This time it wasn’t Andrew that haunted her dreams.
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Alastor stood glaring at Husker, who had waited until Lyra and Angel had gotten on the elevator before speaking. “You wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doing?” Husk asked.
Alastor’s eyes went dark, and his features changed; antlers growing, limbs stretching, and feedback warping his voice, “Watch. Your. Tone.” A green chain appeared in Alastor’s hand, it ended with a collar around Husk’s neck. He gave it a slight yank, pulling Husk closer to himself so he could lean down and get to eye level. “While I might normally find your crass nature amusing, I am not in a mood for it. I don’t owe you an explanation for my actions, Husker. You’re the one on my leash. Remember?”
Husk’s eyes went wide, and he stammered, “I…I know that… I just mean, what are you doin’ with that girl? You and I both know you’re playin’ her. It’s obvious you want something from her, and you know Charlie said you couldn’t mess with the hotel’s guests. She’s the fucking princess of Hell, and if you go down, that means I go down with you.”
Alastor vanished the chain with a flourish of his wrist and straightened his back, his features returning to normal. “What I want from Lyra is none of your concern, nor anyone else’s. But if it helps you sleep at night, know that I have no plans to harm her. I agreed to Charlie’s condition that if I wanted to be involved with the hotel, I do not harm its guests or trick them into making deals. She never stated that I couldn’t form a mutually beneficial affiliation with them, and I don't intend to go back on my word.” Alastor twirled his cane and turned on his heel to leave. When he reached the door, he turned around once more and craned his neck to the side in an unnatural angle, “And Husker…While I enjoy your company, if you continue to interfere, it will be your screams that fill my next broadcast. Are we clear?” He nodded his head as Alastor turned once again, leaving Husk staring after him.
Alastor made the trek back to his room in silence, pausing at Lyra’s door to see if she was still awake. He heard the soft sound of a song coming from a radio, but no other indication that she might be awake. He focused his magic onto the radio waves, changing the song to “Dream a Little Dream of Me” before he continued to his own rooms and sat down at his desk in his office. The only light in the room came from the fireplace in the corner, the ominous glow causing shadows to dance all around the room. Of course, it was entirely possible that the shadows were real and not a trick of the light. He leaned forward, resting an elbow on the desk and propping his head up with it. While he had been irritated at Husk for calling him out on his behavior, he hadn’t been wrong. In truth, Alastor had been angrier with himself than with Husker at the fact that he had gotten caught up in the little game he and Lyra played. He had completely forgotten about Husk and Angel during the exchange. She had surprised him by joining in with his song. The duet between them flowed naturally, almost as if they had done it before. The competitive glint in her eye that shone when she began singing in French brought a smile to his face, it had brought out his own competitive nature and the dance had begun.
He had been curious to see her eyes shining with that violet light that he had come to associate with her power as she sang the line “give your heart and soul to me.” He had felt that power stir in himself with the words…he had also seen it stir in her whenever the demon she had killed in her apartment begged for his life. It had him wondering if she had the capabilities of a dealmaker. When the song was finished, she had turned away from him to hide the blush on her cheeks and he knew that he was having an effect on her. She had surprised him again by responding to his flirtations with her own, and the look in her eye made him think that she had known he was toying with her and had decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. It had been a challenge, an act of defiance. The thought had stirred up a sensation in him that had been dormant for quite some time. He thought about how he had reacted when she had placed her hands on his chest. It was curious, to be sure. Normally he would have flinched from the breech in personal space, but to his surprise, the feel of her fingers brushing the exposed skin of his chest only had him wondering what she would do next. The feel of her breath grazing his jaw and her mouth that close to his neck had him picturing what it might be like to have her sink her own teeth into him, and the thought had nearly sent him over the edge. Alastor opened his eyes to see that he had been gripping the edge of the desk so tightly that his claws had torn into the wood. He stood and walked over to the bar in the corner.
In all honesty, he had been grateful for the interruption. If they had been alone to continue their back and forth, he would have been at her mercy, and would have most likely crossed a line that he wasn’t ready to cross with her. It was a maddening thing, to have the physical needs of a man when you didn’t necessarily want it, to not know if it was really you that wanted to be close to someone or just your body reacting. While he was unsure where he stood on that front with Lyra, he knew without a doubt that it complicated his plans. Alastor was no stranger to being on the receiving end of unsolicited flirtations from both women and men, but they had never succeeded in having an effect on him before. He poured a glass of whisky from its decanter. He downed the drink with one swallow, relishing the burn down his throat as he poured himself another, attempting to clear his thoughts of her.