(6) Caomhnóir

 

 

“You know,” Thom said later that evening as he and Keegan left the club, “Darius is actually the first of your people I’ve met, other than Alasdair of course. I don’t know why, but for some reason I thought all of you were Gaelic.”

 

“If that were true there would be hardly any of us, since Gaels are notoriously good and kind people and devout non-sinners, me being the obvious exception.”

 

Thom rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. So, are you actually going to meet up with him somewhere?”

 

“I rather expect I shall, if for no other reason than to make certain he leaves you alone.”

 

“Come on, Keegan, he wouldn’t really try to mess with me would he?”

 

Keegan stopped walking, turning to put his hands on Thom’s shoulders. “His sin was sowing discord among brethren. Even now he likes nothing more than to stir up trouble, which in certain circumstances comes in useful. This is not one of them. As I said, I’ll make certain he doesn’t bother you.”

 

Thom nodded, his mind flashing back to the last time someone had ‘bothered’ him, and he shuddered. Keegan immediately wrapped him in a tight embrace.

 

“He’s not like them, mo ghrá. He might try to separate us, if he’s in the mood, but that would be the worst of it.”

 

“The worst?” Thom looked at him. “I can’t think of anything more horrible than loosing you.”

 

“Thomas Aloysius Mulloy, how many times will I have to tell you, that will not happen,” Keegan said firmly.

 

“Forever Keegan o Broin, because hearing it makes my heart stand still and then beat with joy.” He took Keegan’s hand, placing it over his heart.

 

“So I see.” Keegan smiled softly as he threaded his other hand through Thom’s hair, tugging enough to bring his lips within kissing distance. “Is breá liom tú, Thom.”

 

“Damn, you two, get a room as they say.”

 

Keegan looked over Thom’s shoulder to see Darius standing there, his arm around the waist of a barely legal twink. “Night, Darius,” he muttered before going back to what he’d started, kissing Thom thoroughly for several moments, savoring his passionate response.

 

Therefore, he missed the hateful look Darius shot at Thom before turning swiftly around, causing his companion to give a small cry of surprise as he stumbled forward. “Keep up, or go home,” Darius hissed, striding away.

 

(5) Caomhnóir

 

“Are you trying to kill me?” Keegan grumbled as he and Thom collapsed against the railing surrounding the dance floor.

 

Thom snorted. “I don’t think that’s possible, all things considered.”

 

“Yes, well—” Keegan reached for him, pulling him back against his chest. “Perhaps you’re just trying to tire me so much that I’ll be unable to have my wicked way with you later.”

 

“As if.” Thom wriggled his ass and chuckled when he felt Keegan’s cock respond. “I don’t think you’ll have the least bit of trouble.”

 

“Keegan!” The shouted word was followed almost immediately by the appearance of a tall, dark-haired man wearing clothes that left nothing to the imagination. “When the hell did you get back in town, how long are you staying?” The man threw his arms around Keegan, apparently totally ignoring that Thom had to move quickly out of the way for that to happen.

 

Keegan however was well aware of it, tugging Thom back to him the moment the man released his hold. “I have just returned, Darius,” Keegan replied somewhat formally. “And if you please, or even if you do not, be polite. You almost tumbled my man back onto the dance floor.”

 

Darius pursed his lips in amusement as he eyed Thom. “Tam bellum hominem. You are lucky, my friend.”

 

“Did he just call me beautiful?” Thom asked.

 

Keegan nodded. “And in Latin no less, to show off his erudition,” he muttered with a shake of his head.

 

“He’s—” Thom started to ask.

 

“A show off, right Darius?”

 

“And just a bit jealous as well,” Darius added with a grin at Thom. “I always wanted Keegan. Apparently you have something I don’t if he considers you his man.”

 

“Manners to start with,” Keegan said, gaining a laugh from both men. “Darius, this is Thom, and like me he is off limits.”

 

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Darius replied, kicking a foot up against the wall and leaning back, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the dance floor.

 

Thom, seeing that Darius’ attention was elsewhere for the moment, turned his head to whisper to Keegan, “He’s one of yours, isn’t he?”

 

Keegan nodded, knowing that he meant Darius was a Caomhnóir, not some ex-lover. “And very old, much older than I.”

 

“He looks it,” Thom said with a grin, earning an arched eyebrow from Keegan.

 

“I heard that, you two,” Darius growled before pushing off the wall, his gaze fixed on a young man on the dance floor. “I catch up with you later, Keegan.”

 

“I’m sure you will,” Keegan muttered as he started back towards the bar, keeping Thom close beside him.

 

 

(4) Caomhnóir

 

 

“Sexy,” Keegan declared as his gaze raked over Thom. “I am not certain I should let you leave the house like that.”

 

“Says the man whose pants are so tight they leave nothing to the imagination. And that shirt, Keegan, where in the world did you find it?”

 

Keegan grinned wickedly. “I believe it was one I absconded with during the Revolution.”

 

“French or American?” Thom asked, cocking an eyebrow in amusement.

 

“The Glorious Revolution actually. Now that was an interesting time.” Keegan smiled in remembrance before shaking his head. “But that’s neither here nor there at the moment. Shall we leave before I change my mind and ravage you on the spot?”

 

Thom hesitated, apparently giving Keegan’s question serious thought. Then, with a laugh, he dropped a quick kiss on his lover’s lips and headed out of their bedroom.

 

* * * * *

 

Pressing his mouth to Thom’s ear so that he’d hear him, Keegan said, “I don’t remember it being so loud.”

 

Thom thumbed towards the band a few feet away before taking Keegan’s hand, leading him through the crowded room to the bar. Luck was with them, two men vacated their stools just as they got there, taking their drinks with them. Thom immediately snagged one, Keegan the other.

 

The bartender showed up moments later, grinning as he held out a hand to Keegan. “Damn, man, I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth,” he said cheerfully.

 

“Just briefly,” Keegan replied with a laugh, shaking the man’s hand. “But I’m back and not planning on going anywhere for a while. My raison d'être,” he added, slinging an arm around Thom’s shoulders, “will keep me here as long as possible.”

 

Resting the palms of his hands on the bar, the bartender leaned in to say with a chuckle, “From the look on his face he’s not going to let you leave again no matter what.”

 

Keegan turned to look at Thom for a moment, nodding before replying, “As it should be, my man. Now, how about you serve us up a couple of drinks, a Guinness for me and,” he cocked an eyebrow at Thom.

 

“Half and half, please.” Thom leaned back against Keegan, studying his profile intently.

 

“What?” Keegan asked softly.

 

“Nothing. Just—“ He shrugged.

 

“Mo ghrá, I am here,” Keegan murmured, “for the year at least, and if possible, for more.”

 

“I know.” Thom smiled ruefully. “I’m just being a wuss as usual.”

 

“But my wuss and I’m not complaining in the least.”  

 

Thom chuckled. “The wuss and the tough guy, it sounds like the title of a bad song.”

 

“A love song.” Keegan grinned, rubbing his knuckles along Thom’s jaw. “Our love song.” He picked up his drink which the bartender had just set down in front of him, waiting for Thom to do the same. Then he tapped the edge of his glass with Thom’s. “To us, now and forever, no matter what comes.”

 

With a smile, Thom agreed. “To us, always.”

(3) Caomhnóir

 

“I sense that you have not dropped this human entanglement of yours,” Alasdair stated, his visage stern with disapproval.

 

“Nor will I, mo ceannasaí,” Keegan responded. There was no defiance in his voice, just certainty that even his commander could not argue with, although he had tried several times before.

 

“As I have told you, as long as he does not endanger you I will allow it to continue.” Alasdair tapped one nail on his desk. In his present form, the gryphon could pass for a very large, muscular human male. Only small things would give him away to those in the know. The nails at the end of his fingers and toes were longer and thicker than those of a normal human, there was a definite beak-like quality to his nose, his ears were slightly pointed, and his hair was comparable to a lion’s mane, thick, luxurious and tawny gold in color.

 

Keegan on the other hand looked just as he had when he died, completely human although he was now far from that. He was a Caomhnóir, under the command of Alasdair.  Caomhnóir, or Guardians, were males, and very rarely females, who died while in the midst of committing one of the seven deadly sins. To redeem themselves, if they wished to, they are given a chance to help protect mankind. Their commanders were always mythological creatures, stewards with the ability to shift into human-like forms so that they could move among mankind, supervising the Caomhnóir.

 

Keegan’s sin had been the shedding of innocent blood. As a young man he had lived on the streets of Dún Bhun na Gaillimhe (Galway), surviving by thievery and hiring himself out as a bullyboy for whichever pub owner was willing to pay him.

 

It was during one of his forays into the wealthier part of the city that he had run into a man and his daughter, well-dressed citizens, the father with a full purse hanging from his belt. Being weakened by hunger as it had been a lean week, Keegan had been clumsy in his attempt to separate the man from his coin, and thus he had found one wrist gripped firmly in the man’s hand. Slashing wildly with his blade, he had stabbed the man, who had instantly released him. When the daughter screamed for help he had acted on instinct, covering her mouth while wrapping his arm tightly around her throat. He might have made his escape if the guards had been less swift to respond to her cry of fear. Their shouts as they approached had only intensified his grip on the girl’s throat as he threatened to kill her. When one of the guards slashed his sword across Keegan’s neck, his death throes had snapped the girl’s throat and she died at the same instant.

 

Where she had gone when she died, he of course never knew. He, however, had found himself in the vale of dead sinners. It was there that he was offered a choice. He could spend eternity suffering for his sin or become a Caomhnóir.  As he had told Thom soon after they had met, he was no fool. Dead was dead and he might as well make the best of it.

 

He had chosen to become a Caomhnóir.

 

And so, for the last nine centuries he had traveled back and forth through time, dealing out death to those who merited it in the eyes of his commander, Alasdair; and in the eyes of the one who was the Rialóir Deiridh (final ruler) of all Caomhnóir.

 

(2) Caomhnóir

 

Thom sighed deeply as he watched Keegan dress. “Do you have to leave?”

 

“Only for a few hours, mo ghrá.” As he finished lacing his tight leather pants, Keegan strolled back to the bed, bending to whisper words that had Thom’s cock hardening instantly.

 

“You’re a true bastard,” Thom groaned. “At least stay long enough to take care of the problem you’ve just created.”

 

Keegan laughed wholeheartedly as he turned away and went to the closet, replying over his shoulder, “When I return I shall, if it’s still a ‘problem’. But for now, I must leave.”

 

“Business, I take it.” Thom did his best to use that thought to tame his raging libido. What Keegan did, and why, was more than enough to scare anyone, mortal or otherwise.

 

“Not business per se,” Keegan told him as he chose a dark blue shirt, looking at it critically for a moment before donning it. “I just have to check in to let them know I made it back and to file my report.”

 

“I don’t suppose—“

 

“No, Thom, you may not come with me.”

 

“I wasn’t going to ask that, I know better. Besides there’s absolutely no way I want to come within a hundred miles of your superior. He’s—“ Thom shuddered.

 

“He’s only non-human,” Keegan said, chuckling. “He doesn’t bite.”

 

“With those claws he calls fingernails, he doesn’t have to. He could rend me limb from limb. But that wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

 

As he checked his hair and then slipped his wafer-thin wallet into his back pocket, Keegan looked inquiringly at Thom. “What, then?”

 

“If we could maybe hit up the club tonight? I know it’s your first full day back but—“

 

“You want the world to know I really didn’t run off and desert you.” Keegan sat down on the bed, stroking Thom’s cheek. “I understand. I want everyone to know that too. So, yes, we can hit up the club, but just for a short time.”

 

“Perfect. Now, go do your thing, and gods, please don’t let them have a new assignment for you for at least a week.”

 

“I’d opt for a month, mo ghrá. It will take me at least that long to sate my hunger for you.”

 

“Only a month?” Thom grinned, leaning in to kiss his lover. “I was hoping two, three, twelve—“

 

“You, Thom, are insatiable.” Keegan returned the kiss, breaking it before his body responded to the extent that walking in his tight leathers would be painful. “I shall return by early evening at the latest, I promise.”