Work Text:
Mira woke to sunlight streaming in through soft, pastoral stained glass. Raising her head, she looked around at the ornate furniture, the canopy bed with its blue fabrics and the dark-stained bureau, both expertly carved. A well-worn rug greeted her feet as she stood. That’s right, the house on Orange. Il Bastone? What an odd name. And what did they call this? Dante’s room? As in, The Inferno? Hm. She rifled through her bag, pulling out a set of clothes that were still clean, folding and putting away what she had worn yesterday. It was well after sunrise, but she wasn’t surprised at having risen so late, her body being used to west coast time. Still, she could at least see if there was any breakfast. Walking out into the hall, she paused for a moment, not feeling all that hungry yet, and, while she knew that the kitchen was located on the first floor, decided to take advantage of the quiet of the house to poke around a bit.
She was already on the stairs, halfway between the landings for the second floor and the third, when she was struck with a thought. Which room is my daughter sleeping in? She was positive it was a room on the third floor. Was it the bedroom directly above the room that she had slept in? Seemed like a logical enough place to look first.
The third floor hallway was practically identical to that of the second floor, and she easily found the bedroom; the door was already ajar. Taking care to move as quietly as she could, she peeked in. She could see the bed from the crack in the doorway, all in green where the one she had occupied was blue, and a head of long, black hair was visible on a pillow. Galaxy. There she is. Slowly, she pushed the door open just a bit farther, thankful that the hinges had been well-greased and moved silently.
Now, the door half-open, she could see more stained-glass, more intricate and detailed than in her — Dante’s — room, a forest rather than fields, and contributing to some of the green glow in the room.
Suddenly, she bit back a gasp, barely keeping it from leaving her throat. There was someone else in the room. Standing by the window, half-shadowed from the light at its — his? — back, was a tall figure. It — he? For the figure certainly appeared masculine with a strong, straight build — had softly-tousled brown hair, Daniel’s hair, but it — he — was glowing with gold, ringing the parts of his wrists and throat that were visible from underneath his soft-looking sweater. There was gold in his hair, too. Threading through the locks and cow-licks and looking a lot like … like … like horns. The expression on his face, as he apparently watched her daughter sleep, was gentle, adoring, but there was no doubt in Mira’s mind. Whatever this ‘Daniel’ was, he wasn’t quite human. In fact, he looked a lot like a benevolent Devil, if there ever were such a thing.
Mira suddenly had a flash-back to a much earlier time, back when Galaxy was more … normal, more like other children her age. Galaxy, at that time, had been insistent that she could see ghosts walking the streets of LA. Mira had been skeptical, had perhaps been a bit heavy-handed at times with trying to placate and calm her daughter, with trying to figure things out, but … what if Galaxy wasn’t lying? What if Galaxy could … could really see ghosts, see people who have died? And how does this young man (Devil? Demon?) fit in? Could Mira suddenly see such things too?
The man-demon’s head turned, his blue-gold gaze locking onto her. Distantly, Mira realized that she had taken a step away from the room, her foot had brushed against the rug, caught in the weave, caused a sound.
‘Daniel’ walked slowly toward her. Mira was frozen in place, couldn’t move, couldn’t look away from him. Was this how she died?
He stopped in front of her, looking down at her from his not-inconsiderable height. “Ms. Stern. I hadn’t realized you’d be awake so early. Alex still sleeps.”
Mira said the only thing she could in that moment. “What are you? Are you a danger to my daughter? To my little star? If you are … I’ll … I’ll …” Mira didn’t know what she’d do.
‘Daniel’ smiled gently. (Could a demon really smile?) “No, Ms. Stern. I am no danger to your daughter. I am sworn to serve her ‘til the end of days.”
“What?” It came out more like a croak than a recognizable word.
‘Daniel’ smiled again. “Let’s go down to the parlor, yes? So we may speak more freely without waking Alex?”
Mira could only nod.
“Wonderful. Please, ladies first.”
He swept an arm in the direction of the stairs, his smile a bit wider now, and it was all Mira could do to not take the stairs at run. Was she in danger from that thing? Should she be concerned? But … her little girl was asleep upstairs, and that … ‘Daniel’ hadn’t hurt her. Or had he? Could one trust what a demon says?
The parlor. Right. Mira found the doorway that she had walked past the day before and entered the room, sitting on the couch. Or should she stand? What was the protocol when dealing with a thing … demon … that you weren’t sure hadn’t hurt your daughter? She shifted, perching herself on the edge of the cushion, limbs taut, just in case she needed to make a quick escape.
‘Daniel’ entered behind her and left the door open — she had a way to escape if she needed it. But would she be able to get to the door before he did? How fast could a man-demon-thing be? — sitting back in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee, an arm on each armrest. Good. He was by the wall opposite to the door, farther away than she was, and didn’t seem in any hurry to move.
It was silent for a few minutes, Mira trying to tamp down her fear. ‘Daniel’ was still glowing with gold.
Finally, he spoke; his blue-gold eyes on hers. “Ms. Stern. I believe it to be prudent to begin with your daughter, since she is the reason we’re both here today. Has your daughter ever mentioned to you that she could see some things that were … unusual, perhaps? Out of the ordinary?”
Mira blurted out the first thing that came to her, something unusual itself that he had said upstairs. “You said that you ‘will serve her ‘til the end of days.’ What does that mean? What are you?”
He smiled again. “All in due time, Ms. Stern. Please, my question first.”
Mira blinked. Surely it was sensible to listen to a man-demon-thing? And if he ‘serves’ Galaxy, surely he wouldn’t hurt her? She spoke. “Yes. Yes, Galaxy has mentioned some things like that in the past, but not in years. I assumed she had grown out of it, quite frankly. Had she? Is there a reason to be concerned?”
Still smiling that infernal, albeit somewhat-charming smile, he shook his head. “No, no reason to be concerned, Ms. Stern.”
“Then, what? Why mention it now? What does it have to do with —”
“Apologies for interrupting you, Ms. Stern, but I hadn’t actually answered your first question, only your second. Alex still sees what you call ‘ghosts’, what we call ‘Grays.’ That is why your daughter was accepted into Yale. This ability she has.”
What? “What … what do you mean? And, what are you? Whatever you are, you’re not a ghost, and I don’t think you’re quite human anymore.”
Again, he shook his head, his smile now more of a grin. “No, Ms. Stern. I am not a ghost. And while I was human when I first met your daughter, now I’m not quite that, either. You are correct on both counts.” He paused, as if thinking. “Apologies again, I am answering your questions out of order. Normal people, like you, and like I had been once, can’t see Grays. That part of reality is blocked out for them, for you. Alex has a special ability, one which we’re not quite sure how she got, but it could have a genetic component…” He trailed off, shook his head. “I digress.” He shifted, placing both feet on the floor, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “Ms. Stern. Magic is real. Magic is real; it is in New Haven; it is here at Yale. The magic we do here — or, actually, the magic that the other societies do here — keeps the world in order. Financial contracts, weather predictions, stock trades, and more. This magic attracts the attention of other things, mostly the Grays, who are drawn to it, to the power. Alex was chosen to be here because her innate ability, the ability to see the Grays, helps keep everyone safe.”
Magic? Magic was real? But could Mira actually fully deny what she was being told? She was in a parlor, of a house that almost seemed to have a mind of its own sometimes, and a man-demon-thing, still glowing, still with horns in his hair, was sitting in front of her, was telling her these things. “What do you do here? In this house? And that other place on York and Elm?”
‘Daniel’ settled back in his seat, relaxing his arms, but still with both feet on the floor. Mira stayed tense — just in case. “Ah, that is the Hutch. Another safe place for us. We are Lethe, Ms. Stern. We keep the societies in order, make sure things go properly, that accidents don’t happen.”
“What happened to you?”
He grimaced. “An accident; or attempted murder, depending on how you look at it.”
“What are you, then?”
Again, a grin on his face, slightly wicked this time. “Why, Ms. Stern. I am the ‘Gentleman of Lethe’. What else would I be?”
Galaxy’s voice came in through the doorway. “There you are, Darlington. You were gone when I woke up.” She stepped into the room, dressed in sweats patterned with some sort of dog, and came to stand by ‘Daniel’. “Good morning, Mom. Hope Darlington hasn’t been terrorizing you.”
‘Daniel’ looked up at Galaxy, the same expression of adoration that Mira had seen before again on his face. “And when have I ever terrorized anyone, Alex?”
Galaxy smiled. “You tell me, ‘Gentleman Demon’. Tripp is still terrified of you, and he’s a vampire.”
‘Daniel’ laughed, a deep, rich sound. “Tripp’s always been afraid of me, even when we were both still human.”
Mira was concerned again. “Vampires? That trust-fund kid I met last night is a vampire?”
Galaxy grimaced. “Accident. Kinda my fault, though.”
Mira stood, once again ready to bolt if she had to, to grab her daughter and get all the way back to LA, away from this place. “Galaxy? Is this place safe? What kinds of accidents result in vampires and demons?”
Galaxy looked right at her, and Mira noted that her little girl (not so little anymore) looked, well, stern. “I’m safer here than I was in LA, Mom. Besides, we were able to get Darlington out of hell — eventually — and Tripp’s been adapting to a nice, insectivore diet. Once we close the Hell gate and banish the demons — the bad ones, of course, not Darlington — New Haven will be as safe as it normally is.”
Mira felt faint. There’s a gate to Hell open in New Haven? And more than one demon? And ‘Daniel’ was a “good” demon? She wanted to sit back down, but no, it would be harder to escape if she did. She looked at her daughter’s face. Galaxy didn’t seem as if she were lying. She looked at ‘Daniel’’s face. He was still gazing at Galaxy, looking for all the world as if he were besotted, as if he were in love. Were they in love? Was her daughter in love with a demon? Would she have a demon son-in-law soon? First things first. She addressed him. “Daniel, is it? Or Darlington?”
‘Daniel’ broke away from looking at Galaxy, turned to Mira. “Both, Ms. Stern. ‘Daniel’ is my legal name, but ‘Darlington’ is a nickname given to me by a previous — now deceased — mentor, a portmanteau, if you will, of my first- and sur-names. ‘Daniel Arlington’, ‘Darlington’.”
Mira felt as though something was in her throat; cleared it. “Why?”
It was Galaxy who answered with a chuckle, a soft smile on her face, looking at ‘Daniel’. “Because he’s a darling, that’s why.”
‘Daniel’ (‘Darlington’?) returned her smile. “That’s what I’ve been told, yes.”
Galaxy moved closer to Darlington, sat on the armrest, Darlington moving his arm to make space for her, curling around her lower back and hips, hand coming to rest on her thigh. Mira cleared her throat again, suddenly concerned that they were going to forget that she was there and engage in an embrace, something which she never wanted to see her daughter do. “Darlington, then. You said that you are ‘bound to serve Galaxy.’ What does that mean?”
Darlington was still looking at Galaxy when he answered Mira. “I was bound in service to a demon of gluttony in Hell. When Alex and the others journeyed twice into Hell to find me and sever my ties of bondage; when Alex held my soul safe next to hers to keep it from being eaten — demons aren’t supposed to have souls, you see — my service changed. I became bound to her instead, and remain bound even now.”
Galaxy picked up the story. “Darlington can’t be too far away from me without … forgetting who he is, which is somewhat undesirable. We’re not sure on the exact distance, but currently it seems to be about the range of New Haven.”
Mira thought for a moment. “That’s why you invited me to Thanksgiving here, this year.”
Galaxy smiled. “Yes, Mom. That’s why.”
“And this gate to Hell is open because …?”
Galaxy grimaced again. “The demon who kept Darlington didn’t want us to take him back, and used my blood to keep the gate open.”
Mira was definitely faint now, and decided it was a good idea to sit back down. Besides, it didn’t seem like Galaxy and Darlington were in any real hurry to move. “I see.” She looked at Darlington, whose attention was still (adoringly) on Galaxy. “What are your intentions on my daughter? I’ll say that you seem a better choice than her previous boyfriend, but that’s a pretty low bar, and I’d like to know where this” — she paused to gesture vaguely at the two of them, still seated on the chair together — “is going.”
Her answer was a groaned, “Mom, really?” from Galaxy and a blush — demons can blush? — from Darlington, accompanied by a stuttered, “Ma’am, um, really, I …”
Mira narrowed her eyes. “You what? Sure, I can accept that you’re a demon, would be stupid of me not to do so, since you’re right in front of me, and sure, you’re bound in service to my daughter, but what does that mean? Can I count on you to love her? Can I count on you to not break her heart? I know I can count on you to keep her as safe as possible in the middle of all of this” — another vague gesture around the room — “insanity, but you’ll probably outlive her, so what happens then?”
Darlington sat up straight in his chair, his eyes (now more blue than gold; did Galaxy have an influence on how much of the demon he showed at any given time?) looking directly at Mira. “Ms. Stern, I can’t answer your last question; in fact, I’m not sure anyone has the answer to that, but, to answer your first questions, yes.”
Mira raised a brow, still skeptical. “Really? That’s all you say? ‘Yes’?”
Galaxy laughed. “To paraphrase Darlington from over a year ago, he uses declarations of love sparingly, and only when wholeheartedly meant.”
Well. Mira didn’t really know what to say to that. “I see. Alright, then.”
There was a knock on the door. The three of them turned to see Mercy standing there, a cheerful smile on her face. “There you are. Dawes has breakfast ready in the kitchen.”