Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

library's door. Melizander turned, expecting Dobbs, but was presented with Asher, looking dashing and trim in his tailored evening wear.
    "Goo— arrgghh!" Melizander's greeting was strangled in his throat as the treminae became a ring of fire around his neck. Doubling over, he grabbed for the talisman, tearing at the collar of his shirt. The pain was intense, but quickly began to fade when his hand grasped the metal beads, which were ice cold to his touch. Slowly he straightened up, gasping to catch his breath.
    Ashe stood stock-still in the entranceway, a shocked expression frozen across his features.
    Melizander moved toward him. "Ashe? Are you well?" The lord did not move, but remained stationary, his hand still positioned on the door handle. "Bloody hell, man! What kind of prank is this?"
    He stumbled back as the air about Ashe began to shimmer, as if waves of heat rose from the library floor. While Melizander stood by, Ashe's form shifted. Gone was the tailored evening wear, replaced by black leather trousers and some sort of tight-fitting singlet that gorgeously displayed his muscled chest. And wings. Wings! Black, glossy-feathered wings!
    Melizander knew he was having some type of hysterical hallucination— he must have fallen and hit his head. Yet Ashe remained silent and still as any statue.
    "Bloody… god… damn, man! What is the meaning of this?" He regained his feet, carefully stepping closer to his paralyzed lover. "Answer me!"
    Melizander watched as Ashe's lips moved, slowly forming words. " Treminae has… bound… me!"
    " Treminae ? How did—? Bound?" Abruptly the wings made sense, and recognition flooded into Melizander's brain. "You… you are a… a… daemon? How? Why?"
    Again Ashe struggled to form an answer. "I… am… in… cu… bus. You… are… daemon… hunter."
    "I am no—" Suddenly Ashe's world crashed in as he went flying across the library to collide with a bookcase. He hit the floor, surrounded by a rain of books. Looking up, he perceived a towering black figure in front of the hearth. The treminae again began to burn him; this time he recognized it as the warning it was. A little sooner would have been good! He recalled an illustration from the Codex and raised his arm, hoping to direct some power at the newcomer since the treminae appeared to know what was going on. Nothing happened.
    A red lash of flame streaked from the interloper, wrapped around Melizander's outstretched arm and wrenched him off the carpet, to hold him suspended six feet above the floor. He glanced back at his transformed lover. Apparently the talisman— or perhaps just himself— had limited use with multiple daemons for Ashe had regained control over his body and was striding across the room.
    "Do not injure him, Father!"
    The towering blackness had resolved into a giant in ebony armor. A rumbling bass voice issued from the closed helm. "The mortal has raised power against a Prince of Hell! His life is forfeit! He is damned to the pit beyond the boiling blood of Phlegethon!"
    Swinging slowly in midair, Melizander watched as Ashe— that was how he still thought of him— grew larger to match the armored colossus. "He did not know what he was doing!"
    "Ashtariel! Why do you plead so? Was is not your plan to deliver the daemonolator to me?"
    Melizander found his voice as, disconcertingly, a small internal voice pointed out that he now knew a daemon's name. "Ashe— er, Ashtariel— er, whoever you are! What does he mean by 'your plan'?"
    ****
    Ashtariel turned to look at Xander— it was vaguely unnerving that they were eye to eye— and reached out to touch his face. He realized the taloned hand was probably not that comforting for the mortal and curled in his finger, using a knuckle to stroke Xander's cheek. The young man flinched.
    Melizander's recoil stabbed at Ashe. Taking a deep breath, he again met Xander's gaze. "Xand—"
    "Melizander— my name is Melizander. Not Xander !" He spat the last.
    The anger and disgust in the voice tore at Ashtariel, yet he plunged forward. I brewed this cup myself, now I must drink the lees. "Melizander, he speaks the truth. I… I planned to… magically bind you and deliver you to Hades."
    "So, I was to be sacrificed to your father." Melizander's voice had lost its heat and become cold and flat. "Why?"
    "It is… complicated."
    "As you well know, I am not unfamiliar with a complicated father."
    Ashtariel was aware of his father's scrutiny. "I… I wanted to impress