Page 124 of Monstrous Travels as Wicked as Sin

Percy kept up as best he could, worried for Joe, asking the occasional question that went unanswered before resigning himself to the mystery of the short and silent trip, until finally Joe brought them to a small garden.

The garden was cool and lush, grown high with elms, an oasis in that part of Montmartre. Percy recognised it, having walked past on occasion, but he’d never been beyond the black iron fence. Joe went through as though he knew the place intimately. He walked along a curving stone path, hidden beneath a tunnel of curling branches that met overhead, and directly to a little wooden door, arched, set in a stone wall.

He looked back at Percy, as though confirming he was still there by his side, then he took a long, black key from his pocket. He slid it into the lock, and the door opened at his command.

Taking Percy’s hand tighter now, he led him inside. Percy tripped over a step, and was caught and steadied by Joe, as his gaze drifted upwards to row upon row of soaring stone beams overhead. A rainbow of light filtered through beautiful stained-glass windows, set high, so, so high above. Joe closed and locked the door behind them, then clasped his hand again and brought him to the centre aisle of the ancient church they found themselves inside.

It was probably the last place Percy thought Joe might have taken him that morning. Perhaps a hospital or a patisserie. An all-night bar? But this… Was he having a crisis of faith? Was he turning to God?

The thought unsettled Percy’s stomach, but his aesthetic eye, his heart and soul, responded with the expressive ardour he could never subdue where such beautiful things were concerned.

The church sat silent and reverential, evidence of all the faith humanity had in a greater something there in every stone, every column, every gorgeous curve and line, and, “Do you like it?” Joe asked. His eyes were as keen on Percy as Percy’s were on the walls and windows and carvings and artworks.

“It’s magical,” Percy whispered. It was. Utterly. Beyond spectacular.

“It’s the second oldest church in Paris,” said Joe, suddenly sounding a little nervous. “I, um… I think it’s prettier than the oldest one. And because it’s so old, it’s not… What would you call it? It’s not ‘cloying’.” Percy let out a small laugh as Joe spoke on. “And I knew you lived in Montmartre. And it felt right.”

Percy looked at Joe. Tired. Worn. But Joe. Beautiful, always, to Percy. More than anything. And not because of the way the morning sun lit the edges of his hair like a halo. Not because ofthe lips and the eyes and the curves of every feature that had first drawn him into the gentle and distant obsession that had marked their earliest days together. He was Joe. And he could have been one hundred years old, and Percy would have thought he was just as beautiful. “You planned to bring me here?”

“I did. Not right now, of course.” He gave a soft, bashful laugh, then turned serious again just as quickly. “I thought you’d love it. And I wanted to, but… after everything that happened last night… Percy…”

Joe raised his gaze to Percy’s. The intensity in his eyes, the something he was holding back—Percy could see it was close to overwhelming him. “What is it?”

“Come.” Joe led him up the aisle, to the front of the church, where he paused by the altar. A square altar, large and flat, made of stone but gilt in shining copper. A thing of history. Like the church. Like the city.

Joe took both of Percy’s hands in his and looked deep into his eyes. “I fell in love with you. Percy, I’m so in love with you, and I don’t know what to do with it. Sometimes it feels like there’s too much. And there are so many things I want to say to you, and…” Joe dropped his gaze to their hands, folded together, Percy clasping his just as tenderly as he held Percy’s, and when he looked up, that smile. Percy’s eyes loving and proud. Like they always were.

“I wanted to bring you here last night,” Joe explained. “I thought, maybe after dinner, I’d take you for a walk, and surprise you. I got the key yesterday because I thought…” Joe looked down the long aisle, drinking in the glorious details that lay before them, just for their eyes. “This place, I thought it represented us in a way. It’s so exquisite. And things like that, they’re like air to you, and I know that. I thought—Iknewyou’d love that.”

“I do,” Percy said softly, an acknowledgement and an encouragement. He wondered what the meaning of it all was, but Joe seemed to be warming to his task, to Percy’s acceptance of it, moment by moment, so he waited, and let Joe say what he needed to.

“I thought it was like these two worlds. Our worlds. What you believe in, and what I… What Ididbelieve. I think. For a while. I tried to…”

Percy’s smile slipped with the confession, with his sadness for what he imagined Joe must be feeling, but Joe spoke on, faster now, getting it all out. “I used the sheath. The sheath and the spear. When you… Whenthathappened, I got them, and I put them together. And I got nothing. Not a thing.”

No atheistic quip met the admission. No lightly mocking joke. Only the firm, “That’s no proof of anything.”

Joe laughed. The idea of Percy, of all people, trying to help Joe keep his faith, was amusing. He said, “You’d try to protect me from anything, wouldn’t you?”

“Forever.”

“Forever,” Joe whispered. He brightened a little. “I’m not sad about it. I always doubted. I’ve always seen horror, and darkness, and these terrifying things, and I tried to be good. But the life I was living, it was a half life. It was a half understanding. Every day was like that until I met you.”

Joe smiled, a touch of his nervousness morphing into what seemed to Percy to be mounting excitement. “When I met you, you opened up a new world. One I’d been blind to my entire existence. One I’d locked myself away from. You showed me love and passion. And you showed me anger and hate. You showed me the filth and the dirt of this world, and you made it beautiful. You make everything so, so beautiful. You, even in your most ridiculous, most appalling moments, Percy, you bring me a peace and a happiness I didn’t know I could ever feel inthis world. And that’s why I wanted to bring you here, and why I wanted to give you this.”

He dipped a hand into his pocket and pulled something out. He held it firmly in his fist for a moment, as though considering whether to go ahead. Finally, he turned over a shaking hand, stretched his fingers open, and there in his palm shone a stunning ring.

The band was gold, newly polished, though the ring was old, which Percy could see at a glance. Gold detail, complicated and exquisite, curled and coiled up the side of the band, rising ornately around a black inlay of pure and polished onyx, that glinted and glittered in the morning light.

Percy’s heart was hammering in his chest. The hand that held that ring… The ring that was for him. He was speechless.

“Percy…” said Joe, turning the jewel over. He looked up into Percy’s eyes, bright and hopeful. “Percy, I want you to marry me.”

Percy’s fingers curled around Joe’s palm. He brought his other hand to his cheek and dropped a gentle kiss on his lips. “Darling, you know I want to marry you. I proposed, and I meant it.”

“No.” Joe shook his head. “No, I don’t mean one day. I don’t mean when courts catch up and change their rules. I don’t mean one distant maybe, and planning, and suits, and… Percy, I want you to be my husband. Forever. I want you to marry me right now. Right here. With me as celebrant.”

Percy’s hand moved to his open lips, covering them briefly, then, “You would do that? Really?”

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