Page 7 of Demon (Mystic Guardians #3)

Chapter Seven

C allan

A handful of days passed. This morning, Callan once again sat at the back of Lonnie’s classroom, trying hard to ignore all the thoughts bombarding his head.

Wonder if Brad is ever going to ask me out?

I’m so fucking invisible. If I ran naked through the school, would anyone even notice?

Professor Russell is kinda hot.

That last one made Callan glare into the room, not sure who it came from. At least that one was kind of paying attention to the teacher.

Callan closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. After so many years dealing with this part of his magic, he had tricks he’d learned to shut out the voices. He pictured his home, where his father still lived in Massachusetts. The peaceful woods around the four-bedroom Cape Cod house. Then he pulled up a memory of catching frogs with his brothers in the creek that ran behind their house, remembering how Nathaniel had fallen in, gotten pissed, then pulled the rest of them into the water until they were all streaked with mud. He pictured their mother coming to find them and laughing when she saw the state they were in. She’d ushered them all home and poured buckets of water over them in the back yard. Back then, it hadn’t been the Cape Cod house, though, but a small cabin his father had built. It had been warm and cozy and always filled with the smell of baking bread. His father had built a big brick oven that took up half the front room.

Callan still missed his mother. She’d loved her half-demon sons, showing them off with a fierce pride, though she was always careful to make sure they’d donned their glamours before taking them into the small village that had been a long walk from their land. Unlike Lonnie, she hadn’t been able to see through glamours, though she’d loved her sons in both guises equally. And she’d loved her husband, always smiling at his gruff exterior and working to bring out his rare smiles. He’d grown so remote in the years since her death. Callan should visit. It had been over eight months since he’d made a flight home.

His memories had worked, quieting his mind, so he opened his eyes and his senses. The notes indicated that Lonnie’s stalker was sometimes in these classes, so he worked to focus on one voice at a time. Then he got distracted by Lonnie himself.

The human really was hot, no kinda about it. He liked to walk around the room as he spoke, his voice soothing, velvety. He pointed often to the large screen in the front of the room, today’s image something about the hero’s journey. Yesterday, the lecture had involved saving cats for some reason.

Callan liked to hear Lonnie speak. And he very much liked looking at him. At his short, supple body and that silky hair he kept pulled back in his usual knot. Those wide lips were on the thinner side, but so kissable.

Lonnie fiddled with his glasses, pushing them up on that cute little nose, his gaze flicking to Callan every so often. Callan still wondered why he couldn’t hear Lonnie’s thoughts, though he was more than grateful for it. It was soothing to be around him, and the mystery of not knowing his thoughts intrigued Callan. At night, they’d been watching more shows while Lonnie graded—he always had grading to do. His job was definitely not any kind of nine to five. But he seemed to enjoy it, often smiling over something he was reading. Though there were frowns, too, and often frustration in the form of sighs and his shaking head. Occasionally, he murmured about students needing grammar classes.

But the quiet evenings together were just so…tranquil. Callan could relax around the human. Be himself. And Lonnie never seemed to mind Callan’s grunting responses to his intermittent chattery periods. He was polite about them, too, always pausing the shows that Callan had quickly become addicted to. He could see why Lonnie liked his anime. They portrayed so much emotion and inner feelings, and the music was wonderful. The fight scenes were right up Callan’s alley. So was a lot of the mythology. He’d be watching these shows long after his job with Lonnie was over.

That thought depressed him. After a mere week, he’d grown attached, something that had never happened on the job before. He wanted all the quiet nights with Lonnie.

And he wanted the passion he could sense they could have between them. Lonnie was attracted to him. He could tell by the way his pupils sometimes swelled and the way his gaze lingered on different parts of his body. Mostly his hands. It was hard not to tug Lonnie out of his recliner and into his lap whenever that happened.

There was something there. Between them. Something Callan had never experienced. It made his chest tight and filled him with a heady sort of anticipation that often left him hard and aching.

The students started moving, gathering their laptops and standing. Callan carefully watched each of them, trying to pick up on whether any of them paid too much attention to Lonnie. He also opened his mind back up to their thoughts, but as usual, all were just random things like their next class or boyfriend and girlfriend issues.

Once they’d all filed out, Lonnie started gathering up his own things and shutting everything down. He was muttering to himself, and it was so damn cute, Callan had to smile. When Lonnie looked up and caught his expression, his eyes widened behind his black-framed glasses.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked.

“You’re talking to yourself.”

Lonnie chuckled. “I have a mental list of everything I need to bring home with me, and I say the list aloud, so I don’t forget anything.” His leather briefcase had a long handle, and he slid it onto one shoulder. “I have to meet with two students in my office before we can leave, and the first one isn’t coming for half an hour so we can grab some coffee. Did you pick up on anything from the students today?”

Callan shook his head. “Most think about dating.”

“And not what I’m saying?” He snorted. “Hormones. But I remember being their age and preoccupied with sex.”

“Some of your students are older. They still think about that.”

Lonnie nodded. “We do tend to focus on that a lot, don’t we?”

Callan was focusing on sex right then. Lonnie had walked up to him, smelling of that subtle, musky cologne he preferred, and all Callan wanted to do was cart him back to his house and ravish him. He looked so sexy in his black slacks and loose beige sweater. Callan would peel that sweater off to get at all that skin underneath…

“Callan?”

He blinked to find Lonnie watching him with concern pulling his brows up. “Sorry. I spaced.”

Lonnie’s wide grin brightened his face. “I do that often myself, so no need to apologize. Will you mind waiting in the hallway outside my office? I can’t very well explain why you’d be in there during a private meeting.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Good. Let’s grab that coffee, and what do you say we go out tonight for sushi? You like sushi?”

Callan hesitated before answering. “I’ll eat it.”

It looked like Lonnie was waiting for him to say more, but he had no idea what, so he just stared at him.

Lonnie’s low chuckle made him warm. “Come on, then. Hopefully, my students won’t be overly talkative today.”