“But if push came to shove, I’d drown for you,” Emil said, eyes still closed, and a blissful expression stuck to his face.
He might have as well cut out Adam’s heart and put it on his mantelpiece. “I want to help you too. Will you… reconsider what we talked about earlier?”
Emil groaned. “I can make my own vodka. It’s okay.”
“But you still need to pay for the bottles, and other ingredients.”
Emil stayed silent for a while. “Thank you. For wanting to make it happen so much. But you have to let me pay back every grosz once we’re settled in Warsaw.”
Adam couldn’t stop the wide smile tugging at his lips and kissed him hard, shifting until he managed to crawl on top of Emil and trap his head between his elbows. He’d never thought he could be this happy to lose the money he’d been saving for such a long time, but at least now the cash had a purpose other than sitting in his bank account and working up a tiny percentage. “Fine. I can let you do that, but until then, your soul is mine.”
Emil grinned back and slapped his ass. “Greedy monster.”
Chapter 17 - Emil
Bottles filled Emil’s house from top to bottom. He and Adam had discussed this extensively and the consensus was to either go big or bust, so Emil needed to have a lot of the alcohol on hand. They’d started producing the alcohol infusions back in August, and since Adam had helped with every part of the process, the work didn’t eat into their time together that much. Though it meant less horse rides or peaceful walks in the forest.
In late October, the urge to go outside wasn’t an imperative anyway, especially that the last few days have been abysmal—filled with storms, endless rain, and a dropping temperature that spoke of upcoming November. Adam’s superiors had already informed him of his next placement. Only seventeen days were left of his stay in Dybukowo. Seventeen days until Emil would have to walk him to the bus stop and wave goodbye.
If everything went according to plan, he would soon follow Adam, even though the prospect of uprooting himself—and Jinx—made unease sprout in his head like mold. For the first time in his life, there was an external purpose to guide him away from the life he knew, and while he worried adjusting to life in a city might prove difficult, he also wouldn’t give up on the chance at happiness that had unexpectedly dropped into his lap.
He didn’t want to let Adam go, and the longer they were together, the more he saw how compatible they were. Mrs. Luty and Father Marek would have noticed if Adam had started spending nights at Emil’s, but he often left the parsonage first thing in the morning and crawled into Emil’s bed as if just lying next to him brought him peace.
They watched movies together, read books while cuddled up in the sheets, and Adam wasn’t averse to physical labor either, eager to help out with the alcoholic infusions as well as with the mundane work around the homestead. Whatever they did, topics for conversation never ran out. After years of loneliness, Emil had finally found someone whose heart was in perfect harmony with his own.
Determined to leave with him, Emil swallowed his pride and accepted a loan of Adam’s money to pay for the ingredients needed, but while he was also the main force in terms of preparation, Adam made calls on Emil’s behalf in an attempt to turn the alcohol infusions into cash. And while Emil knew how crazy it was that he chose to uproot his life to become the secret lover of a Catholic priest, a man who would never openly acknowledge their relationship, Adam’s dedication to their cause confirmed that it was the right decision.
He hadn’t told Adam yet, but he’d decided to sell the house to have the financial cushion for a good start in the big city. The thought of permanently parting from the mountains awoke a deep longing inside of him, but none of that mattered in the face of what could be.
He was thirty. It was about time for him to do something radical. To change his life. To stop hoping for miracles, and take destiny into his own hands.
Maybe once Adam served his penance in Dybukowo, once he put the fear of demons behind him, he would be able to open up sexually as well. Because there wasn’t a day when Emil didn’t dream of pinning Adam’s gorgeous ass to the mattress. Or being the one to take cock, for that matter. Either way worked for him as long as Adam was in his arms, panting, and whispering love confessions.
In terms of intimacy, they were still in that innocent teenage stage, but he assumed that might change. Losing control over one’s body would have been a traumatic experience for anyone, so Emil decided he’d be patient.
Neither had declared their feelings out loud, but Adam surely understood the depth of Emil’s emotions, because why else would he have come up with the idea of them both moving together?
Emil stirred the fresh elderflower infusion one last time and started pouring it into bottles when Adam emerged from Grandfather’s old bedroom all pale and moving stiffly, as if he’d been left in the cold for too long. “I found something weird.”
“What is it?” Emil cocked his head and put down the precious bottle. He hadn’t changed anything in that room since it had been vacated, but, like Grandma’s chest upstairs, it contained items that might seem strange to someone unfamiliar with local folklore.
Adam licked his lips and joined Emil by the kitchen table, but when he opened his hand, Emil’s face fell, because he had no explanation for the item in Adam’s palm. In his palm lay a small figurine with a lock of black hair woven through a hole in the torso. The wood it was made of had gone dark from age, but the horns on its head, and the simplified lines that made up the face were clear as day.
It was a devil, or one of the many folklore creatures associated with him.
Emil’s face flushed with heat as he silently scolded himself for leaving the damn figurine where he’d found it in Grandpa’s things a few weeks back, when he’d finally chosen to look through the old man’s things in preparation for the upcoming move. Adam felt at home in his house, so of course he’d act like it too and open drawers when searching for something.
“There were some notes too,” Adam said, and when his hand shook, he made a point of putting the figurine on the table and stepping back. A couple seconds later, he walked up to the sink and washed his hands, as if he were afraid the thing carried a disease.
Emil groaned. Yes. Notes. His grandmother’s notes on the best ways for attracting Chort, which ranged from placing bowls of food in four corners of the house to human sacrifice, but the latter was such a freaky thing to be written down by his lovely grandma that he chose not to mention it to anyone ever. He could only hope Adam hadn’t read any of it yet.
“I didn’t want you to be scared. It must have been my grandma’s.” Emil took the little sculpture into his hand and stared into the red smudges it had for eyes.
Adam exhaled and placed his hands on the table top, for a moment so still it seemed like he wasn’t all there. “I just… it’s such a weird thing to have in the house. And that hair— It’s like yours,” he added in a lower voice.
Emil pulled on one of his waves and compared it to the lock attached to the figurine. “Maybe. But my grandma’s hair was like this too. She’d worn it long all her life, and it never turned gray.”