by Maribel Fox
For centuries I heard tell of the exploits of Fae and the Hellions — even some more unscrupulous Angels, or the Fallen they all inevitably became. But never did I have those temptations. Never did I spy a woman that made me sit up and take notice. Ava doesn’t only suggest I take notice; her presence demands it.
And there is nothing she has done to make it happen. She has been nothing but friendly and accommodating. She has promised to grow her collection of on-tap root beers to suit my tastes. She treats me no differently than I would expect a good hostess to treat their guest, and yet with her, I feel there is a connection. I feel there is something more. And in all of my years, that feeling has never happened to me.
That alone is enough to make me want to stay. To disobey orders for the first time in all my years at ERS.
What would be the point of that, though?
Untrustworthy though they may be, the others all seem equally committed to Ava’s safety and well-being. I doubt that danger or harm would befall her during my short trip back to Heaven.
Presuming I can make it a short trip.
There is always the possibility that my lack of intelligence leads them to send someone else. Someone with less finesse.
The thought of another Auditor coming down here and using our typical tactics on Ava makes me clench my teeth, a fierce determination to look out for her taking over.
This is the conflict. Heaven is expecting me to open a portal at the next moment I can. Time works a bit differently up there, though. A walk to gather my thoughts will not take enough time to matter in the grand scheme of things. And if they disagree, I will have to face that as well. Right now, I am not in the correct frame of mind to deliver a comprehensive objective report.
I will work on my script as I walk.
Woods have never really spoken to me before quite the way these do. I have always personally preferred the open skies of mountaintops. The endless expanse of clouds and sun.
Heaven’s true location is not exactly in the sky; it is in another realm of existence. There are entire scholarly pursuits dedicated to mapping and understanding how the portals and dimensions work, but that is far beyond my capacity. I know enough, and what I know is that though humans have long looked to the sky as the home of the Angels and other Celestials, the truth is, we have nothing like that in Heaven. Heaven, glorious and magnificent though it is, lacks the charm and grace of earth.
Perhaps that is only my new perspective.
For the first time, I have found myself admiring more than the cloud formations, more than the endless stretches of blue that I have always found the best part of my trips down. For the first time, I enjoy losing myself in the woods, finding hidden paths to the rocky shore, exploring the network of fallen behemoths and the new life they have created in their death.
It is fascinating. And oddly soothing. Comforting in a way that usually only meditation is.
My newfound love of the woods is not reason enough to stay, unfortunately. Disobeying Heaven’s request is not just an act of defiance, it is a possible death sentence.
Likely they would be lenient with me, considering my years of service and the ‘tragedy’ of my past — that tragedy being Kushiel’s death, which clearly did not occur — the punishment would not be so severe as death.
There would be punishment, though, and if I can avoid that, I would like to.
My walk takes me down a path I have yet to travel, and soon I realize why my feet brought me this way.
Ava is a short distance away, humming and singing to herself as she plucks shiny ripe blackberries from the vine. Her body wiggles with the tune of the song, and I stop and stare, awestruck by the perfection of her. Her hair is pulled back, her clothes simple and plain, and still she could inspire ballads and sonnets in her name.
Her singing is out of tune though, and that breaks the spell a little, making me smile.
Perhaps she is not completely perfect, but her flaws enhance her charm.
Approaching her now seems unwise, yet my feet move me forward until she hears me approaching and turns.
“Oh! Micah, hey, how’s it going?” she asks with a friendly smile.
I nod, hands in my pockets. Talking to her has proven difficult.
She stands up straighter, her full height coming to mid-chest on me, and looks up, squinting.
“You sure?” she asks again. When I fail to answer, she thrusts the basket in her hand toward me. “Have some blackberries. That’ll help.”
I arch an eyebrow. “How so?”
“Have some,” she says, shaking the basket at me with a mischievous grin. The plump berries shift and roll in the basket when she shakes it, and I cannot resist her offer.
The berries are tart and sweet, juicy and just firm enough.
“Good, right?” she asks, popping one in her mouth too.
“Yes, but I fail to see how it will fix any of my problems.”
Ava grins, and there is a twinkle in her eye that holds me captive.
“Because now you’ve admitted you have a problem, and you’re going to tell me all about it, so I can help.”
Her candor surprises me.
“Why would you want to do that?”
Ava shrugs, heading over to a fallen log, thick enough to be a bench where it lies. She sits, and pats the spot next to me, as if beckoning me to join her.
“Because you seem like the least crazy of these guys in my life right now, and you seem like you could use someone in your corner. You don’t exactly get along with the others, do you?”
A mirthless laugh shakes my shoulders. “That is only the beginning of it, my dear.”
She pats the log again. “Come, tell me about it. Help me forget about my own screwed up problems for a little while.”
“Using me, are you?” I ask, not sure where the impulse to joke with her came from. It should alarm me, but the sweet sound of Ava’s laughter makes that an impossibility.
“Maybe a little. But we can use each other, right?”
Heat courses through me, and the urge to touch her is unbearable. Still, somehow, I manage to sit on the log with her, next to her, inches away from her. Every cell in my body is aware of her presence. Aware of her scent, her heat, her magic arcing out to hook me in.
“So, what’s on your mind?” she asks, palm full of blackberries she casually munches on.
“There is quite a lot to the story. Suffice to say, for many years, Kushiel and I were partners. One day he took a solo mission — highly unusual in its own right — and I was informed he had been killed in action. I never heard from him again until I saw him in your bar, sixty years later.”
Ava’s eyes go wide, her jaw dropping slightly, her plump, berry-stained lips an invitation to kiss her even though I’m sure this isn’t the right time. How would I know the right time? I have no experience with kissing. Perhaps it looks different from even this and I have the wrong idea about what is happening here.
“You… For how long? That’s crazy. And you thought he was dead?”
I nod slowly, eyes wandering down the gentle curve of her cheek, down to the point of her chin. Right back up to the inviting bow of her slightly-parted lips.
“Now I am forced to wonder why he would choose to abandon me in such a manner.”
Ava takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Wow. Yeah, that’s rough. But maybe Kush had a good reason for doing what he did—”
“Then why does he refuse to tell me?!” I say, emotion breaking through. “He will not even speak to me. And now I have been summoned back to Heaven to report, yet I have no idea what to report. Or whom to trust. Who is behind this deception, and who is protecting whom?”
I have dropped my head to my hands, fingers splayed over my face. Somehow this is the most effective expression for this level of frustration and confusion.
Ava’s hand lands on my back, light as a feather on the water’s surface, and she rubs up and down my spine without saying anything.
It i
s a gentle comfort. A reassuring touch that doesn’t need words. Ava’s hand is small, but within it there is great strength, great capacity for compassion, and she is choosing to share those with me now.
I look up from my hands, our eyes connecting, my breath shallow and difficult. I want… I am not sure what, though the wanting remains. Desperate and yearning.
Ava’s eyes shift for the briefest fraction of a second, and it is all the warning I have before she’s pressing her lips against mine. She is soft, her lips molding to mine, and the sensation is pleasant. A soft tingle of warmth that seems to spark up in various places throughout my body simultaneously. Her lips move against mine, and without knowing what exactly I am doing, I find myself responding to her movements with those of my own.
Everything is slow, careful, deliberate. I feel like Ava is being as gentle with me as I feel I should be with her. Can she sense my inexperience?
Her tongue slides along my lower lip, the sweet tartness of blackberries still lingering. I copy the action, and Ava makes a sound. It is a sound I have not heard her make before, but I like it. A tiny whimpering gasp. I like it far more than I should. The involuntary reaction that sound spikes through me is unsettling.
What am I doing?
This is not just a conflict of my current case, this is far bigger than that. I should not… I cannot—
I say nothing as I pull away, leaving her blinking and speechless. Her face is flushed warm and I wonder if the feelings raging through me are inside of her too. This is maddening.
I am sure she is going to ask me where I am going, she is going to want to know what is happening, and there are no answers for her. Instead, Ava says nothing as I slowly back away, standing and retreating back into the woods.
I cannot stay here. My piety is at stake. I must go back to Heaven. Back where I know the rules and understand them.
If Kushiel wanted to have any say over my report back to Heaven, he should not have avoided me at every turn. Now I will have to report back to them without talking to anyone about it. There is no use in wasting more time.
15
Ava
Holy shit.
What the hell just happened?
No, seriously, what did I just do?
Well, for one thing, I kissed freaking Micah of all people. I mean, why the hell not, right? I’ve already kissed Seamus, already been teased and kissed by Kush and Raj. What’s the harm in adding another wild ingredient to this completely overwhelming pot?
I groan and bury my face in my hands.
And then he just… ran away? Who does that?
Besides you? That nasty voice taunts, reminding me of every time I’ve fled from these men or their weird props. That’s different though. That’s…
Okay, fine, it’s not different at all. I don’t know enough about Micah to know why he freaked out and left. I do know that kissing him was something altogether new and exciting. He was so willing to let me take the lead, to follow my movements. It was almost like I was able to direct the kiss where I wanted it to go, and that was intoxicating in a whole new way.
Micah’s different than the others, that’s for sure. But different isn’t bad in this case. It’s confusing though. Despite my interaction with Raj and Kush in the forest, I’m sure that if anything was to happen with one of these guys, that would be it. I’d have to choose. There’s no way I could have… No.
More than one is crazy enough, but four?! I’m deluding myself if I even consider it a possibility. How would that even work? How does one date multiple men at once?
Stop thinking about it, I chastise myself. They’re still guests, I’m still focused on keeping this professional — hormones and magic be damned. I have a business to run, a family to look out for that that business supports. I can’t just go throwing everything out on the line because some psychos waltz into my life unannounced and tell me I’m special and make me feel ways I never even knew possible.
I have to keep my head on straight here. I can’t give in to the rising sexual urges, no matter how persistent they are. I can’t let myself melt into them, unleash my magic, and fall into bliss.
I don’t even have any evidence that it would be like that. It’s just instinct. Intuition. Some latent primal urges from ancestors long ago. I need things I’ve never even had. It’s a weird feeling.
And one I’ve got to resist if I know what’s good for me and my loved ones. It’s not just me tangled up in all this. It’s Ian and Rue, even Alistair to an extent.
Not that considering them makes me any less concerned for Micah. Kiss and everything that followed aside, he’s struggling. His relationship with Kushiel sounds difficult and he seemed reluctant to report back to Heaven.
Which is ridiculous. I don’t believe in magic or angels or any of this nonsense. But the terms are useful when discussing this strange group psychosis that’s going on. I don’t know where Micah’s headed off to, but it seems like the other guys should maybe know about it?
I don’t know. For all I’ve learned, all I’ve discovered, there’s still so much I’m in the dark about. I still don’t know if these guys are all on the same side or not.
To be honest, I’m not sure if they know. I think it’s kind of complicated.
Which makes my feelings for all of them even more complicated.
I groan again, the sound turning into a growl as I thrust my fingers into my hair, frustrated enough to tear it out. Instead, I pull out the ponytail and shake it free.
As much as I wish I could just forget about all of this, pretend none of it is happening, and move on with my life, I can’t. I’ve gotten myself tangled up in all of this even though I tried my damnedest not to, and now I have to track these guys down to tell them where Micah’s gone.
My first guess is the bar, but there’s no one there but Rue.
“Everything okay?” she asks, looking up from her phone with a little frown.
“You seen any of our guests?”
She shakes her head, dark ringlets bouncing around her shoulders. “It’s been quiet as hell. I don’t think they’re even in the building.”
I cross my arms, leaning on the bar with a scowl. Where could they be? I have to assume at this point they’re all together somewhere, talking about the sword or…
I suddenly remember Raj posted up at Alistair’s with a book. If there’s somewhere in Lupine Bay you want to go to talk about an artifact of any kind, Bathory Antiquities is the place to go.
“Can you keep an eye on Ian for me when he gets home?” I ask, straightening up quickly.
Rue senses the shift and her eyes go wide. “Yeah, sure thing. You gonna tell me what this is all about when you’re not in such a hurry?”
I grin, already on my way out the door. “We’ll see!”
“Hey, no fair!” she protests behind me.
It’s not that I want to keep Rue out of the loop, it’s just that this is all insane. Telling my best friend that the hotties she’s been ogling claim to be otherworldly creatures — oh yeah, and that I’m also one of them — probably isn’t going to go over very well. To be honest, I’m not really sure how Rue would react to that kind of story, but I’m not eager to find out, either. Bringing another person into this insanity is a step too far.
It’s bad enough Alistair’s already a part of it. Though if he’s telling it, he’s always been a part of it. Being a vampire and all.
That’s still too much for me to believe. Alistair is the sweetest, most non-confrontational person I’ve ever known. I can’t imagine him harming a fly, let alone sucking someone’s blood.
I shudder at that thought. I sure hope he’s got a more humane way of feeding himself in this day and age.
Sure enough, when I walk in through the front door of Bathory Antiquities, the racket of their overlapping voices assaults me right away.
Alistair appears from the back and gives me a warm smile.
“Ava, I expected you’d show up soon enough,” he says, eyes glittering.
“Are they all here?” I ask, almost reluctant to know the answer. Seeing them all again — with the way my magic is already restlessly swirling around — is bad news. Unavoidable though.
Alistair nods. “I offered them the use of my personal library to research the sword and… erm…”
“And what?” I ask, eyes narrowed.
Alistair clears his throat, his gaze shifting away momentarily. “You.”
“Me?”
“Well, Faerie Queens to be more precise, but yes.”
I’m not really sure how to feel about that. Like I’m some bug they want to get under a microscope and poke. Why couldn’t I have found out I’m magic via an owl letter? Why did my powers have to come with a flaming sword and a mystery?
And four hot guys.
Well, that part’s not all bad. Frustrating, yes. Enjoyable though. To an extent.
I head back to Alistair’s library and find Seamus sprawled out on one of the couches with his legs dangling over the arm, Raj sitting primly in a wingback arm chair, and Kushiel laying on his stomach on the floor. All of them with books open in front of them.
“Ava.” Seamus is the first one to notice me, and he sounds mildly surprised to see me here, but buries it well enough. The other two turn as well, all attention suddenly on me.
It makes me squirm. Being the center of attention has never been my favorite thing, but with all of them giving me those hungry, appreciative looks, it’s even more weird. Weird because I like the way they look at me. It makes me squirm, but not in a bad way. In a needy way.
I lick my lips and try to focus in this too-warm room. Or maybe it’s just me that’s too hot.
“What is it?” Raj asks, brows knitting together.
“Micah,” I say. “He’s gone back to Heaven to report.”
It’s Kush’s reaction I notice first. His face falls, his normally cheerful and carefree expression turning grim and concerned. From what Micah told me, they were very close, so I know there’s a lot going on under the hood with Kushiel, but I’m not close enough with him to know what exactly. Perhaps guilt, for avoiding Micah when he wanted to talk? Maybe now he’s realizing he shouldn’t have kept secrets from his friend.