Human Frailties, Human Strengths

By Jaye McKenna

What do a god in exile and a goth geek from Nowhere, Minnesota have in common?

Not a damn thing.

Ashnavayarian is a god in exile, condemned by the Dragon Mother to live as a lowly human. The only way to appease the goddess and earn back his place at her side is to learn compassion — or bypass her entirely by raising the power to break his exile.

Tor MacAran is stuck in a dead-end job in a tiny town that’s barely on the map. He’s been alone and hurting all his life, and he’s about ready to end his pain by whatever means he can.

When a Halloween encounter dumps Tor at Ash’s feet, the two men find themselves tied together by the Dragon Mother in a way that neither can escape. Can Tor teach Ash what it really means to be human? Or will Ash’s bid for freedom destroy Tor and plunge the Westlands into a war no one can win?

Note: Human Frailties, Human Strengths is a stand-alone novel (~90,000 words) that takes place in the same world as Human Choices.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jaye McKenna
• Release date: Sep 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301308873

Jaye McKenna

Jaye McKenna was born a Brit and was dragged, kicking and screaming, across the Pond at an age when such vehement protest was doomed to be misinterpreted as a paddy. She grew up near a sumac forest in Minnesota and spent most of her teen years torturing her parents with her electric guitar and her dark poetry. She was punk before it was cool and a grown-up long before she was ready. Jaye writes fantasy and science fiction stories about hot guys who have the hots for each other. She enjoys making them work darn hard for their happy endings, which might explain why she never gets invited to their parties.

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Human Frailties, Human Strengths

Published by Mythe Weaver Press

Distributed by Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Jaye McKenna

All Rights Reserved

Cover Art by Chinchbug

Copyright 2013 Chinchbug

All Rights Reserved

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or shared with other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Introduction

Human Frailties, Human Strengths is the novel-length (90,500 words) expansion of the novella, Human Frailties, which was written for the Goodreads M/M Romance Group’s Don’t Read in the Closet Event for 2013: Love Has No Boundaries. If you’d like to read the original 39,000 word novella or view the photo that inspired the prompt that Human Frailties was written for, please feel free to join the M/M Romance Group at Goodreads.com and visit the discussion section: Love Has No Boundaries.

Human Frailties, Human Strengths contains the revised text of the original novella, Human Frailties, plus the entire text of the previously unpublished sequel, Human Strengths. New content has been added to the original story and the ending rewritten to smooth the transition into the new material that follows.

Words of Caution

This story contains sexually explicit material and describes sexual relations between men. It is intended for adult readers. This story also describes situations that may be triggering or disagreeable to some readers, specifically, scenes of dubious consent.

Dedication

To JenMcJ and the LHNB Crew of the Goodreads M/M Romance Group:

This work would not exist if it wasn’t for you guys.

Thanks for getting me started on this journey!

Human Frailties, Human Strengths

by

Jaye McKenna

Table of Contents

Part One: Human Frailties

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Part Two: Human Strengths

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Acknowledgments

Also Available

Contact Info

Book Descriptions

Coming Soon

Author Bio

PART I

HUMAN FRAILTIES

Prologue

Ashnavayarian became aware by slow degrees. At first he thought he dreamed or remembered, but as the sensory input became more and more intrusive— cold, hard ground beneath him, chill wind brushing over bare skin, pain in his head, and the distant howling of a pack of rhyx— he realized that this was not a dream or an imagining, but a reality.

A familiar enough reality; he often wore a human form when he moved through the human worlds. But this was not the reality he’d expected. He’d thought to find himself in his natural element, dancing through the leythe on its ever-shifting energy currents. Instead, he was…

It occurred to him that he had no idea where he was.

Opening his eyes didn’t help much. The night sky was dark and a veil of clouds partially obscured the moon.

One moon.

That narrowed down the number of places he could be. He peered into the darkness. All he could make out were oddly-shaped rock formations and dead trees reaching skeletal fingers toward the sky.

He forced himself to a sitting position and bit back a grunt of pain as cold, stiff muscles protested the sudden movement. Muscles…

Curious, he ran hands over bare skin. Human, definitely. And… male. Nicely put together, too, if he was any judge— and he was. The body fit in a way that was familiar. So familiar that he knew without looking that the long hair tickling his back was blue-black, and that the very human eyes that were currently struggling with the darkness were violet. It was the same body he’d been using when…

He reached for the leythe, attempting to draw the pure energy straight from the Void, only to find that he could no longer touch the Void. The energy that came to hand was only the mere trickle he could draw from the earth around him rather than the rushing, raging torrent of the Void. The taste of it told him exactly where he was.

It also brought back the memory of Jhara’s rage.

For it was Ashnavayarian who had shown the first human colonists of this world how to draw the leythe from the earth around them. And it was Ashnavayarian who had taught them how to shape it and work it, to make it serve their needs.

But it was human ingenuity that had inspired them to use it as a weapon. Human nature that had driven them to turn that weapon upon one another. Human greed that had led them to breed their brightest and most powerful for ever-greater control over the leythe.

And it was the decidedly human hunger for power that had sparked the flames of the war that was inexorably spreading across the Westlands.

Not his fault.

He’d only given them that first spark of knowledge.

What they had chosen to do with it, well, that was hardly his affair, was it? He just liked to watch the flames kindled by that spark as they blazed a burning trail through the leythe.

Of course, Jhara didn’t see it that way, did she?

Jhara accused him of disturbing the delicate balance of the leythe and sought to punish him for his meddling. She had exiled him to human form and crippled his ability to manipulate the leythe until he learned such abstract human concepts as mercy, compassion, and love.

Things Ashnavayarian had always counted as human frailties.

Hot and very human rage coursed through him. He lifted his face to the night sky. Jhara, you bitch! he screamed. "There is nothing you can teach me about your human children that I don’t already know. Nothing!"

Chapter One

The bell tinkled as the door of the bookshop swung shut, and Tor MacAran slumped in relief. Through the shop’s front window, he saw Mrs. Lindbergh tottering along the sidewalk outside. Her little brown Pekingese was clutched against her chest, nearly buried in her ample bosom. A few moments later, he heard squeaky, hesitant footsteps from the back hall.

If that’s sneaking, you need some lessons, Derrick, he called. Or quieter shoes.

Is she gone?

Tor turned away from the window to see his boss peering at him from the back hallway. Yeah, it’s safe to come out now.

Thank God for that, Derrick said, letting out an exaggerated sigh of relief. He emerged from the hall with a box in his hands. Last week I got a half-hour treatise on Mr. Von Tiddywinkles’ bowel complaints.

This week he’s anemic, Tor said with a grin. "He lies around on his pillow like he’s too tired to move. She says he’s got some rare blood disease and the vet’s too inexperienced to figure it out. I didn’t think she’d appreciate the suggestion that maybe Mr. Von Tiddywinkles is just too damned fat to move."

Derrick snorted and set the box on the counter. Probably not. And I doubt the vet missed anything. Steve might be young, but he’s a pretty sharp guy. Worked for some big, fancy practice down in Minneapolis before he came up here.

Tor eyed Derrick warily, waiting for the glowing testimonial that was surely coming.

Here. Derrick shoved the box across the counter to him. These are all sci-fi and fantasy. I’ll take the helm if you’ll get them shelved.

Aye, aye, Cap’n. Tor grabbed the box and headed across the sales floor before Derrick could continue his pitch. He didn’t want to hear about how he should date Steve, how Steve was smart and funny and good-looking— all the things Tor wasn’t.

The shelves were crammed full already. Tor scanned the books in search of any duplicates that he could pull, then started hunting out the older inventory that could go in the back room for a while. The bell tinkled as the shop door opened. Tor didn’t bother to look up. Derrick would take care of it.

He was deep in his task when he heard someone clearing their throat close by. He glanced up to see Steve standing next to him, perusing the shelf he was working on.

Steve had moved up from the city during the summer to take over the Sienna Pet Hospital for his uncle. Tor didn’t figure he was more than thirty. He had sandy blond hair and hazel eyes, and he was always smiling. A few years ago— before Matt the Asshole— Tor might have considered dating him.

Every Friday after he closed up his clinic across the street, he showed up at Derrick’s Used Books.

Every Friday, he asked Tor to go out with him.

Every Friday, Tor told him no.

It was almost getting to be a tradition.

Now, Steve gave Tor a grin and a wink and said, Changed your mind yet?

Tor stared down at the books, bending his head forward so his face was hidden behind the black curtain of his hair.

I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tomorrow night, Steve said quietly.

Last week it had been a movie. The week before that, a play put on by the local theater group in the next town. Tor had lost count of how many times he’d stammered out a vague excuse. This time, at least, he actually did have somewhere to be on Saturday. I can’t. I have plans. No need to tell Steve it was only an hour in the afternoon to drop by his elderly neighbor’s birthday celebration.

There was a long silence, and then Steve said, Oh. Okay. How about coffee tonight, then? I can swing by after close and pick you up.

Tor bit his lip and shot a quick glance at Steve through his hair. The guy certainly got bonus points for persistence. I… I can’t. I need… I have to get up early. Sorry. I need to… He gulped and fled, leaving the box and the books lying in the aisle.

In the office, he shut the door and leaned against it. His chest felt tight and his gut churned. Why the hell couldn’t he just say yes and get it over with? One date didn’t obligate him to anything. It might even be enough to convince Steve that Tor MacAran wasn’t anything special, and certainly wasn’t worth pursuing with such single-minded dedication. All it would take was a simple yes.

Except—

He lifted a hand to touch the spot on his chest where the tattoo lay hidden under his shirt. A reminder that yes was a mistake. Yes opened the door to pain and humiliation, and the one thing he knew he couldn’t afford: hope.

He couldn’t go through that again. Wouldn’t.

Whenever he started to weaken, all it took was one look at the design inked into his flesh to remind him. The bundle of thorn-covered vines might be twisted into the shape of a heart, but underneath? Underneath, it was still a bundle of thorns, sharp enough to tear flesh and rip his heart to shreds.

He might be lonely, but lonely was safe and so much more comfortable than heartbreak.

He pushed himself away from the door just as a light tap came from the other side.

It’s safe to come out now. The note of amused irony in Derrick’s voice had Tor’s cheeks burning as he opened the door to face his boss. Derrick might not have heard him talking to Steve, but he’d certainly seen Tor bolt for the office.

Derrick wore a wide grin which disappeared the moment he looked at Tor’s face. He’s quite persistent, isn’t he?

Tor answered with a shrug.

If you don’t want to go out with him, maybe you should just tell him that. I’m not sure if you realize it, but it might look to Steve like you’re playing hard to get.

I’m not. Tor sidled toward the door, intending to get back to the shelves he’d abandoned.

He seems like a nice enough fellow, Derrick said mildly. And he’s smart— they don’t give out veterinary degrees to idiots. You could do worse.

And already had, he reminded himself. He’s desperate, Tor muttered, waiting for Derrick to move aside. Has to be, to look at me.

Derrick’s greying brows drew up in a frown. Don’t go running yourself down, Toryn. Hell, if I were twenty years younger…

I just meant Sienna’s not exactly San Francisco. It’s not like he’s got a whole lot of choice. Other than you and Richard, I mean, and you’re both—

Too old? Derrick finished for him, arching an eyebrow.

Sensing that Derrick’s mini-lecture was over, Tor relaxed a little. The corners of his mouth lifted in the beginnings of a smile. "I was going to say taken, but if you’d rather go with old…"

Derrick rolled his eyes. Kids these days. No respect, I’m telling you. Go on, back to work with you.

I’m twenty-seven next week, Derrick. I’m hardly a kid.

When you get to my age, anyone under thirty is a kid.

Tor made his way back to the pile of books he’d left on the floor, certain that he could feel Derrick’s eyes on him the whole way there.

* * *

It wasn’t until he left the shop and began walking home that Tor really thought about Derrick’s words.

Hard to get.

Was that how it looked? Tor hadn’t thought much beyond his own need to stay uninvolved. He’d figured Steve would get the message eventually and leave him alone. He hadn’t considered how his repeated vague refusals might be misinterpreted.

Did Steve think he was playing some kind of game with him?

Maybe he should try to explain, or at least say something more than the deliberately vague I’m busy or I can’t that he’d given Steve so far. Something that couldn’t possibly be misconstrued.

Except he didn’t know exactly what it was he’d explain. It wasn’t anything he’d ever been able to grab a hold of and give a name to.

All Tor knew was that deep inside him, in a place no one could see or touch, there was an emptiness that gnawed at his soul. An emptiness that had been there ever since he could remember.

As a child, he’d used books, television, and make-believe to drive back the darkness. As a teenager, he’d tried drugs, alcohol, and sex.

More recently, he’d thought maybe love could fill the void, but he’d found betrayal to be just as painful as the emptiness itself. Worse, perhaps, because it had been such a shock. Sure, he’d known Matt had a reputation for being a two-timing bastard, but he hadn’t believed Matt would do it to him. Not after the things Matt had whispered to him about always and forever.

All of the things he’d used to ease the pain of his existence— imaginary worlds, mind-altering chemicals, even the illusion of love— had helped him forget the emptiness for a little while. In the end, though, they were all just passing distractions. Nothing and no one had ever come close to being able to ease that aching darkness.

Every day it seemed to grow a little bit bigger and gnaw its way a little bit deeper into him. And every night as he stared up at the stars on his way home to his apartment, he wondered when the void would grow big enough to consume him entirely, and what would be left behind when it had.

He’d searched all his life for that missing something he had no name for. He was about ready to give up looking, because how did you fill a space that you couldn’t even see the shape of?

Something dark detached itself from the shadows and passed across the road in front of him. Tor blinked and peered after it, watching as it melted into the thick underbrush on the other side of the street. This close to the river, the trees crowded together. Even in late October, with most of their leaves fallen, the darkness of their tangled shadows swallowed up everything else. He saw no sign of an animal, but whatever had crossed in front of him, it had been big and vaguely dog-shaped.

A chill went up his spine, making him shiver. A goose walking over your grave, his foster mother used to say— though he couldn’t quite remember which foster mother it was who’d said that. The thought of wolves and bears crossed his mind, making him pick up his pace. The town of Sienna was far enough off the beaten track and close enough to the deep woods that neither was out of the question.

When he reached the old wooden bridge across the river, he didn’t stop to lean over it and stare up at the sky like he often did. Instead, he hurried across. The back of his neck prickled with the sense of being watched from the shadows. The air tasted of patience and expectation, but he sensed no malice or threat.

The idea that he could taste an emotion wasn’t new. Ever since he could remember, there had been times when Tor had experienced the emotions of the people around him as scents or flavors, or sometimes even shimmering clouds of color surrounding them.

No one else seemed to experience things that way. When he’d asked one of his foster mothers about it, she’d hauled him off to the doctor. There had been a visit to the hospital and lots of tests and pictures of his head. When those turned up nothing unusual, there was a visit to a child psychologist and a lot of talk about medication and therapy. After that, Tor had kept his observations— and his fears— to himself.

Now, as an adult, he knew that the occasional scrambled sensory impressions, the feelings of not belonging, and the frequent glimpses of things watching him from the shadows would only get him a prescription for antidepressants or worse. He’d already gone that route, and the meds hadn’t done a damn thing except make him tired and give him even stranger dreams than usual.

He hunched his shoulders and quickened his step, keeping his eyes on the road in front of him. If there were things flitting around on the edges of his vision, he didn’t want to see them. He’d be home soon, and then he’d be safe.

Or as safe as he ever was, given that the odd experiences of waking life often followed him into his dreams.

* * *

Tor set the broom back in its spot in the storage closet and let out a sigh of relief. Friday night. Work was done for the week, so he could head home to his apartment for some much-needed time alone. He shut the closet door and headed back to the sales floor where he scanned the bookshelves one last time. He straightened a few volumes he’d missed earlier, knowing he’d hear about it come Monday if things weren’t nice and tidy when Derrick opened tomorrow morning.

Toryn MacAran, isn’t it your birthday tomorrow?

He’d thought he was alone, so he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the female voice behind him. A familiar voice, to his relief, and he vaguely remembered Derrick mentioning something about Angie coming in to work in the office tonight. She did all of the shop’s accounting, because while Derrick might know old and rare books upside-down and sideways, the man couldn’t do numbers to save his life.

Tor turned around and presented her with the scowl that was usually enough to drive off unwanted attention. I’m pretty sure there’s some kind of law against you poking around in the personnel files.

I do payroll, she said with a bright smile. It’s an occupational hazard. So… birthday? On Halloween, no less. Big plans? I saw you talking to Steve earlier.

She and Derrick were in league over Steve. Both of them seemed to be convinced that getting Tor and Steve together would balance the universe or solve world hunger or something.

Tor shook his head and turned back to the shelves, fussing over the placement of a few older volumes to cover his discomfort. He drew in a deep, calming breath, and concentrated on the smell of old books that permeated the shop. There was something magical about that smell. It never failed to conjure pictures in his mind of all the different lands he’d escaped to in the course of his life. Middle Earth, Narnia, Darkover, Valdemar—

Small plans?

Angie hadn’t gone away. In fact, she’d moved to stand next to him. He shook his head again, then looked down at the floor so his long, black hair covered his face and hid the silver-grey eyes she always commented on.

"Any plans?"

Yeah, he said. Absolutely. I got… I’m going…

Home to your apartment? she said gently. Like you did last year?

He didn’t answer. Didn’t want to hear what she’d have to say about it.

After a brief silence, she said, I’m going to a Halloween party tomorrow night. Would you like to come with me? Steve’s going to be there.

He knew that. Steve had already asked him, just a couple of hours ago. He’d refused as usual, but in spite of his good intentions, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to try to explain. It was easier to say no than try to make someone else understand the vague discomfort he felt when he got too close to people, or the edgy energy he always sensed around large groups. It would have been a lot easier to bear if he’d actually liked being alone, but he didn’t. It was just less painful.

He peered at Angie through his bangs. I-I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I don’t think—

Tonight, then. Just you and me. We’ll go out for a drink. We’ve got time, and we can’t let your birthday pass without some kind of celebration.

He wanted to ask why not, but his tongue seemed to be firmly stuck to the roof of his mouth.

She lifted a hand and parted the curtain of his hair. Her pretty blue eyes softened as they searched his face. I’m sorry, Tor. I don’t mean to be pushy. I just… There’s a very sweet guy buried under all that black and silver and eyeliner, and I’d like to see him smile once in a while.

He pulled away and let his hair fall over his face again. I do smile.

When? When he didn’t answer, she continued, You’re so alone, Tor.

I’m fine. Really. I like my life just the way it is. He said it with such conviction that he almost believed it himself. Almost.

Angie let her breath out in a soft sigh. Okay. Just… call me if you change your mind. I hate to think of you spending your birthday all by yourself.

Okay, he said. But he wouldn’t change his mind.

And his birthday wouldn’t be any different from any other day.

* * *

Half an hour later, Tor leaned on the worn wooden railing of the bridge and stared down into the dark, swirling river below. The wind carried the scent of burning leaves in from the fields beyond town, and the silver light of the full moon sparkled like glitter upon the surface of the water.

He lifted his gaze to the stars and wondered again how he could possibly hurt so much when there was nothing wrong with him.

And how much longer he could stand the pain and the emptiness.

A cloud passed over the moon and the shadows deepened. As Tor gazed at the dark water churning below him, it occurred to him to wonder why he even bothered getting up in the morning. He’d been in pain for twenty-six— no, twenty-seven, tomorrow— years, and he’d never understood why.

Something nudged against his legs, a warm, furry body shoving its way between him and the railing. He stumbled as it pushed him back toward the center of the bridge. When he’d caught his balance, he found himself staring into a pair of glowing violet eyes belonging to the biggest, blackest dog he’d ever seen. It looked almost as if it were composed entirely of shadows, making it hard to tell where the night ended and the animal began.

The dog stared back at him. Something about it tickled a scrap of memory buried so deep he couldn’t take hold of it. Something that was achingly familiar. He closed his eyes, searching old memories, and came up with…

A sense of comfort and safety, like a worn teddy bear. The dog evoked the same feelings in him as the watchful presence that had been with him all his life. A silent companion, always felt, but only ever seen out the corner of his eye, in glimpses so fleeting he doubted his senses.

His thoughts drifted back to the dark shape that had ghosted across his path just last week.

The same creature?

It certainly felt the same.

The dog continued to stare. Its tail thumped once on the pavement.

He reached out to touch it, but his hand met empty space. A moment later the dog coalesced out of the air some five feet away, eerie violet eyes still fixed on him.

Tor let out a shaky breath that was at least half relief. He was dreaming. A strangely lucid dream, but still just a dream. He must have gone home from work and fallen asleep in front of the computer again. Easy, boy, he murmured, more for himself than for the animal. I’m sorry. I won’t try to touch you again.

The dog cocked its head, and its tail thumped again. It rose and turned toward town, then looked at him over its shoulder as if to say, Come on, then.

What, you want me to follow you? I just came from there. I was heading home.

Home to what?

He wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but it stopped him cold because really, what was there at home? His apartment held nothing but the promise of another night of mindless internet surfing, and maybe a movie that he’d fall asleep in front of because the sound of people talking made him feel less alone.

There was nowhere he had to be, no reason not to follow the dog. If this was just a dream, it hardly mattered what he did.

Yeah, all right. I guess I don’t have anything better to do. And there’s something really odd about you. I feel like I’ve seen you before, but I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I had. Those eyes of yours are enough to creep anybody out. He frowned and shook his head. If he wasn’t dreaming, standing in the middle of the street having a conversation with a stray dog had to be a symptom of something. Angie was always telling him he needed to get out more. Maybe she was right.