The House of Honey and Venom
Chapter 1
Kelsin’s phone screen read 8:57. They would be here any minute.
He rested his hands on the bathroom counter, trying to ignore the way his shirt stuck to his back with cold sweat. A voice in his mind screamed that he should have feigned illness or just been honest about not wanting to go, but it was too late. Jen and Malcolm were already on their way. Besides, said another voice, It’s only a bar, not an active war zone. You’re going to be fine.
Still, spending a Friday night—Halloween night, of all things—in the middle of a rowdy, drunken crowd was the opposite of Kelsin’s ideal evening. He was too self-conscious for flirting, too lightweight for shots, and too broke to pay for the drinks that tasted good. Then there was the simple truth that he’d rather chew glass than interact with strangers.
He checked his phone again, then gave his reflection another glance in the mirror. His hair was uncooperative as usual, and his choice of a denim jacket and black jeans was feeling worse and worse by the second.
Style aside, he knew his ivory hair and paper-white skin would have him glowing like a ghost in the darkness. His eyes were an unusual pinkish-purple, and certain angles of light let the blood vessels of his irises show, giving them an alien red hue.
His face stared back at him in low resolution, and as he stepped back from the mirror, the acuity dropped further. This was the other effect of his condition—uncorrectable low vision. He could see well enough to recognize his friends by shapes and colors, but he had to lean in close for anything more. Then there was the light sensitivity, which left him battling constantly to see through glare.
Kelsin’s heart was skipping beats. The bar would be dimly lit with students packed in like sardines. If he lost track of Jen and Malcolm, he was done for. Lost to the ether. All he’d be able to do was hope for them to spot the shining beacon of his hair and find him before he wasted away.
When the text came that Jen was parked outside, it was almost a relief. He couldn’t stand to keep thinking of all the things that could go wrong, all the ways he could embarrass himself over the course of one night. If he had even five more minutes alone, he ran the serious risk of giving up and telling them he couldn’t do it.
The car ride was less than ideal. Downtown was packed, and Jen kept slamming on the brakes to avoid hitting pedestrians.
“Can we slow down, please?” Kelsin was braced against his seat, head at a tilt so he could peer through the front windshield from behind Malcolm’s headrest. Not that it was much help—the streetlights were halos of color, the cars and pedestrians simple shapes. “You’re going to kill someone.”
“You need to relax,” Malcolm laughed. “We’re literally fine.”
They came to another hard stop that made the entire car lurch. Kelsin took a deep breath. “I swear to God, the back wheels left the ground just now.”
“The sooner we get there, the better chance we have of getting a table!” Jen said, palm hovering over the horn. “For God’s sake, these people can wait five more seconds to cross the street.”
Once they finally found a parking space and got past the bouncer, Kelsin hadn’t even stuffed his ID back into his pocket before his worst nightmare was realized: the place was more of a club than a bar, and it was packed. The overhead lights were off, the main room lit only by pumpkin string lights and the disorienting strobe of the dance floor.
“Well, we did it,” Jen smiled as they stepped inside. “We actually got you out on the weekend, Kels! Who would’ve thought we had it in us?”
He gave a forced smile, hoping his face wasn’t red. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. I’m boring.” And it was true: he’d have much rather been on the couch in his apartment watching terrible horror movies. Maybe with his roommate Nona, who never pushed him to do social things like this. But even Nona was out at some party or other tonight. He’d already turned down the invitation to join her weeks ago.
Malcolm clapped him on the back. “Nah, not boring. We just gotta get some drinks in you! First round of shots is on me!” With the way his words slurred together, there was no doubt he had pregamed.
They dragged Kelsin to the bar without giving him a chance to protest, and before he knew it, they were all hunched around a two-seater table that still had someone’s half-eaten fry basket and a clump of used napkins in the center. In each of their hands was a shot of the well vodka.
Kelsin’s stomach lurched as he gave it a sniff. “Ough. I hate shots.”
Jen just laughed, and with the way her body rocked unsteadily, he began to wonder if she’d pregamed too. But she drove them here, so—
“Tonight, we party,” Malcolm said, raising his shot in toast. “And tonight, Kelsin learns to love the bar crawl life. We are finding him a hookup, one way or another.”
Kelsin lowered his glass. “What?”
Jen and Malcolm only cheered, downing their glasses. There was a heavy feeling settling in Kelsin’s gut, but he plugged his nose and followed suit.
He didn’t swallow it all in one go, and then it seemed to linger in his throat, burning the whole way down. He pulled a sharp breath in through his teeth, pushing through the pain of it. Distantly, he realized Malcolm was talking again.
“…Twenty-one, Kels. You need to stop being such a huge virgin about everything. You get me? And that includes sex.”
He rolled his eyes. “How the hell do you know if I’m a virgin or not?”
“Because you don’t strike me as the kind of guy who hit it big in high school. No offense, man.”
Kelsin recoiled. “Oh, offense fully taken. But thanks for trying.”
They chatted at the table for a while, ordered some drinks (Kelsin went for a gin and tonic, one of the least expensive menu items), and got into an almost comfortable flow. But then Malcolm’s friends from the hockey team showed up, and Kelsin felt himself getting pushed out of the conversation. That weight in his gut grew heavier.
Well, they didn’t call alcohol liquid courage for nothing. He screwed his eyes shut and downed his glass. The gin and tonic wasn’t as awful as the straight vodka. Really, it was a decent drink, and in five or six gulps, it was gone.
“Look at you!” Jen laughed. “Time for another, yeah?”
“Sure,” he said, nervous laughter bubbling up as the drink settled in his stomach. “One more, then I’ll take it easy for a bit.”
They approached the bar as soon as they spotted an opening in the crowd of people desperate for drinks. To Kelsin’s horror, Jen ushered him forward as the one to do the talking. He knew she was trying to help him, but God, he hated talking to people, and he didn’t even know what he wanted yet.
To add insult to injury, he tripped over someone’s stupid high-top sneaker and went stumbling into the countertop.
“Careful now.” A hand came to rest on his shoulder, gripping just enough to steady him as he regained his footing. “Are you alright?”
When Kelsin looked up, he saw a tall man with inky black hair. He was pale in the dim lighting, but his eyes were some dark, rich color. “Um…?” He knew this was the time to say something polite, maybe even offer thanks, but the words wouldn’t come to him. He was still mortified from the fall, and his thoughts just stopped cold.
The man smiled in a lopsided way, like a smirk. Devilish—fitting for the occasion. “Are you alright?” he repeated. “Need some water?”
“No, no, I’m not drunk, I just…” Kelsin’s eyes darted anywhere but the man’s face, settling for the countertop. “Tripped over something. Thanks for your concern, though.”
Finally, the bartender shuffled away from the group she was helping and appeared in front of Kelsin and the stranger. “Drinks for you two?”
Kelsin opened his mouth to explain that they weren’t together, but the man was faster. “Two gin and tonics. And a glass of water.” He handed over his credit card, opening a tab.
Kelsin just blinked, looking back at him for an explanation.
He still wore that same smirk. The orange glow of the string lights glinted off his eyes, making them look almost yellow. Kelsin figured his own were giving that pinkish-red shine that he hated. “Feel free to turn me down,” he said, “but you’re welcome to join me.”
“I—uh…” Kelsin glanced back at Jen, looking for direction. “I’m actually with some friends—”
“Oh, go with him!” she said, her face erupting into a huge, devious smile. “You know Malcolm and I will be fine.”
Kelsin looked back at the stranger, who was now resting his forearm on the counter, leaning against it. The bartender set both drinks and the glass of water down in front of him. “You’re welcome to take the drink, whether or not you accept my invitation. The water’s for you, too.”
Shit. Well, he knew he’d never live this one down with Jen and Malcolm if he didn’t at least try. And he knew nothing about sports anyway; Malcolm’s crew was boring him out of his mind.
“Okay,” he said, wondering if he would regret this later. There was a 90% chance it would lead to humiliating himself in public. But maybe there was a 10% chance it would be fun.
Unless that was the alcohol talking.
The man raised an eyebrow. “Okay? As in, you’re interested?”
Already off to a great start. Kelsin nodded his head. “Yeah. Yes, I’m uh, I’m interested.”
The man’s smirk widened a little farther, revealing straight white teeth. His one visible canine was long, too vampire-like to be real. He was definitely into the Halloween spirit.
He picked up both of their drinks, then ushered for Kelsin to take the water. When he did, the man led him away from the bar, toward a table far from the dance floor.
Kelsin gave one last glance in Jen’s direction, and she flashed him a cheeky thumbs-up before moving to the counter for her own drink.
He was taken to a secluded corner that was nearly untouched by the bar’s dramatic orange and purple glow. It was dark, and the eternal static in Kelsin’s vision was not helping him at all.
“Sorry, I’m, uh, I have pretty bad eyesight,” he said, finding the table with one hand before setting down the glass of water. He could still see the brightness of the man’s skin, though, and the glint of his teeth. His inky hair and dark clothes were almost one with the surrounding darkness.
Suddenly, there were long fingers curling over his hand, and the man guided him to sit down. “No worries,” he said, sitting down in the opposite chair.
Kelsin hoped the darkness was enough to hide the blush creeping over his cheeks. “What’s, uh, what’s your name?”
“Esper,” the man said. In his low, almost breathy voice, it sounded beautiful. “And you?”
“Kelsin.”
“Hmm. Kelsin.” The man said it slowly, as if testing the word to his lips. “I’ve never heard that name.”
“I could say the same for yours.” He took a sip of his water. “Esper. Where is that from?”
The man raised his gin and tonic to his lips. “It’s a very old name. What about yours?”
Very old wasn’t really an answer to his question. Kelsin raised an eyebrow. Maybe Esper was embarrassed of his name’s origin.
Kelsin certainly wasn’t a fan of his own. He smoothed the condensation from his glass with his thumb. “Well… It’s stupid, but my parents always wanted a daughter named Kelsey. The thing is, it took them years to finally conceive. When I was born, they decided not to bother trying for more. They named me Kelsin to make up for not being able to use the name on a girl.”
Esper was silent for a long moment. Kelsin couldn’t see his expression well, but he could at least make out the way the man’s eyes reflected a twinkle of light. He caught the tilt of Esper’s head as he rested his chin in one palm. “I don’t think that’s stupid at all. It’s rather tragic, really. Do you ever feel a sense of longing when you hear your name? Do you suppose your parents ever wished you were a girl?”
Kelsin leaned back, surprised by the intensity of the question. “Um… I have thought about it. But they’re good parents. If they thought so, they’d never tell me. And I think they’re proud of me, regardless.”
“Well. That’s good to hear.” The man pushed the second gin and tonic forward, ushering for him to drink it.
Kelsin looked down, surprised to find that he’d already finished his water. He took the second glass slowly and gave it a tentative sip. “But I’m sure you’re not here to ask about my family. Are you a student?”
“No. Just in town for a short while. You are, I presume?”
Kelsin nodded as his stomach sank. If this man wasn’t a resident, he was only looking for a hookup. Kelsin wasn’t sure how he’d deal with that when the proposition inevitably came, unless the man decided that he didn’t like Kelsin enough to take him home. Either possibility drew the knot of anxiety in his gut a little tighter.
“Kelsin…?”
“Oh, uh, yes. I’m a student. English literature.” He sipped his drink faster now, wondering if he should just give up and start planning an excuse to rejoin his friends. “I know it won’t make me any money, but I like it a lot. Do you have a degree?”
“No,” Esper said. “But I too like literature.” He took a long sip from his gin and tonic, then set it down with an audible clink. When he leaned forward, he lowered his voice, beginning to recite a poem:
“Blest as the immortal gods is he, on whom each day thy glances shine; who hears thy voice of melody, and meets thy smile so all divine.”
Kelsin went still. Oh. No way. This was one of his favorites.
Esper continued: “Oh, when I list thine accents low, how thrills my breast with tender pain. Fire seems through every vein to glow, and strange confusion whelms my brain.”
Something flared to life in Kelsin upon hearing those words. He’d never told anyone it was his favorite poem. He’d kept it an intimate secret: a Sapphic fragment, originally Greek but translated time and time again in different iterations. To top it all off, this was his favorite version. He could picture himself as a teenager, tucked under blankets, reading it to himself on his phone while smitten over a boy at school. The poem had been a confidante to him: a spark of hope. A thing to be whispered only.
Before he knew it, Kelsin was opening his mouth, continuing the poem: “My sight grows dim beneath the glance, whose ardent rays I may not meet, while swift and wild my pulses dance, then cease all suddenly to beat.”
Esper gave him the most cunning smile yet. His eyes were bright, his sharp teeth glorious. As he placed a hand over Kelsin’s, his voice deepened, sensual and slow: “And I am motionless and pale, and silent as an unstrung lyre; and feel, while thus each sense doth fail, doomed in thy presence… to expire.”
There was a moment of charged silence before Kelsin found it within himself to speak. All he could think to say was the truth: “I love that poem.”
“I hoped you would,” Esper said, his face even closer than before. Kelsin felt a strange dizziness as he tried to remember when Esper had moved closer—when he’d pulled his chair to the other side of the table. “Now, sweet Kelsin… Have you ever been kissed?”
Blood rushed in his ears. Oh my god, he thought. Is this really happening to me?
When he didn’t answer, Esper gave up on the wait. He pushed forward, connecting their lips, and oh God, it was like a dream. Kelsin scrambled for something to do with his free hand before it found purchase on Esper’s shoulder. The man was like a marble statue under his trembling fingers. He tasted like ginger and lime, but smelled faintly of smoke and metal.
Esper took him by the waist with both hands, steadying him, as his tongue pushed forward into Kelsin’s mouth.
Kelsin hardly recognized himself as he parted his lips to let Esper inside. Alcohol swam through his head as the fluttering beat of his heart gave way to a stream of desire. It was embarrassing how all it took was a love poem to undo him, but Sappho 31—it was Sappho 31. He could almost cry.
“And just like that…” Esper whispered as he pulled back, pressing his forehead to Kelsin’s, “I’ve broken through to the human within. What a gift poetry is.” One of his hands danced featherlight up Kelsin’s side. “Tell me, stranger who loves Sappho and her world of forbidden desire. Won’t you be mine tonight?”
Kelsin shivered. Those words alone were as intoxicating as the gin in his veins. He knew, without a doubt, he’d never meet someone like this again.
“Yes,” he whispered back.
The shuffling din of the crowd rolled by in Kelsin’s peripheral vision. All he could focus on was the hand in his, leading him toward the door. He glanced toward his friends as they passed, but none of them were looking his way. They all huddled around Malcolm, who seemed caught up in one of his dramatic stories.
They’d be so happy for him, he knew.
Time lolled by as they walked, silent, and at some point, Kelsin found himself being led up a set of stairs to a small apartment above one of the stores downtown. He couldn’t quite place where they were with the way the world danced awkwardly around him, but he was pretty sure they’d gone in through an alleyway.
Once Esper shut the door, there wasn’t enough time for Kelsin to look around before the man’s body was on his, pinning him to the wall, lips and sharp teeth pressing into his mouth. He accepted it—let his heart thunder in his chest, let his thoughts slip and his mind become pliable. He was already here, and he had no intention of ruining the night by backing out.
Esper pulled him off the wall and guided him across the floor as they kissed—to the bed, presumably, or at least the couch.
But no, Kelsin was instead lowered to the floor, his shoulder blades contacting hardwood. His fingers traced the edges of a panel and came back to him wet. Sticky.
“What is—?”
“Shh.” Esper smiled, holding Kelsin’s face in his hands, not allowing him to look away. Kelsin’s entire body was taut as a harp string beneath him, begging to be plucked. They hadn’t even turned on the lights, and in the darkness, Esper’s pallid skin glowed stark white. He could only imagine what his own looked like.
“You’re going to be perfect,” said the man, his thumb tracing Kelsin’s kiss-swollen bottom lip. “You’re going to be gorgeous, and mine. All mine.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Kelsin’s neck.
Kelsin was sure he felt his own pulse drumming as his carotid artery was scraped by white fangs, which were oddly sharp for costume plastic. Esper left one hand on his face, keeping his head still.
Then there was a sound like a blade sliding through something wet, and a second later, agony.
Kelsin gasped, his eyes flying wide open as the pain sobered him. Suddenly, the room lit up with a red glow, symbols reflecting off the ceiling from below.
He cried out as Esper pulled back. The man’s teeth were red, a drop of blood spilling down his chin, his pupils blown wide with delight. Kelsin thrashed in his grip, wrenching his head free, and saw what looked to be the sharp points of a sigil painted on the floor. The same could be said of his other side. If they came together in the middle, under his back, then they formed a massive, glowing star.
The room, he also realized, was empty of furniture. No one could have been living here.
“Oh, dear, you’re shaking.”
Kelsin tried to push himself up, but Esper pinned him down by the wrists, his knees planted hard on either side of Kelsin’s waist.
“It’s okay. I’m going to make you beautiful.”
He leaned down again, and Kelsin screamed even before the teeth sunk into his neck for the second time. There was the sharp sting of his skin being pierced, but also a sensation cold as ice, traveling through his body from the point of contact. As the seconds went on, he heard Esper swallowing, gulping mouthfuls of his blood. Some spilled down to the dip of Kelsin’s collarbone, staining his jacket, all while that ice traveled to his heart and out toward every remaining inch of his body.
He continued to scream for a while, but the cold simmered to a dull ache before long, and his mind filled with static. Each of his limbs seemed to weigh a thousand pounds.
I’m dying, he realized.
Kelsin mustered the last of his strength to place a hand on Esper’s back. Once again, he was solid as a marble statue. Kelsin’s fingers slid up to his neck, then to the ends of his hair. It was soft as silk, probably. Hard to tell, the way his hands were going numb.
As was everything else. And the red glow of the surrounding sigil seemed to be fading from the ceiling—or maybe he was closing his eyes.
And I am motionless and pale, and silent as an unstrung lyre.
Moving his fingers was a monumental task, but he was determined. They wove slowly through Esper’s hair. A final faux act of passion. Kelsin could hardly believe it—this was his final moment: lying in the dark beneath a beautiful, dangerous man, and no one even knew where he was.
And feel, while thus each sense doth fail, doomed in thy presence… to expire.
Victoria Rayne, Author 