Ancient Whispers

by Sammi Cee

  3

  Azorath

  Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. If I say it to myself enough times, maybe I won’t freak the fuck out. It’s not possible. That was a dream. There’s no way Ancient One spoke to me in my sleep, did he? Drifting down the hall lost in thought, I barely notice when the doors to the elevators slide open before I can get to them. If it wasn’t for the fact the two men exiting were amongst the men I observed having lunch at the table with Denny earlier, I probably wouldn’t notice them now.

  As it is, I discreetly shift my eyes so that I can take them in as they pass me. We’re on the second floor from the top in the hotel, only the penthouse is above us, so now I know the men’s pockets go deep. They both have a woman on each arm, and their cocky attitudes are worthy of a B-movie. Neither one of them notice me, but one of the ladies with them flashes me a charming smile and winks. Uh… so that explains that. Neither man is particularly memorable, beyond the expensive suits and flashy jewelry. Both Italian if I had to guess. Spinning to back into the elevator, and hoping to notice anything else that may help me figure out what’s going on with Denny, I lock eyes with the sexy blonde, again. She nods at me and I ingrain her face into memory. She may be useful later, maybe I’ll send Ophaniel to talk to her. He’ll appreciate it.

  Without the distraction of the men from the lunch, I have to face what just transpired in my hotel room. When Denny finally lifted his eyes to mine, I instinctively knew that I was face to face with my suflet mwenza—my soul-mate. But to add to that, he said he could see Ophaniel and my eyes, which shouldn’t even be possible for a mortal. From the moment the council was established and decreed that we were no longer allowed to present ourselves openly to humans, I’d prayed that our creator would make sure I never met mine. After so many years of life, I’d assumed him or her long dead. At this point it never occurred to me that it was possible I still might have a mate.

  Liar.

  Okay, so I’m lying to myself a bit. It had never occurred to me until the dream with Ancient One. As much as I’ve tried to play it off as a nightmare to myself, deep down, a spring of hope had bubbled up. But it really is a nightmare, for so many reasons. I can never reveal my nature to Denny, so how can I have any form of relationship with him? I’ll have to let him go as soon as this assignment is over. I’ll keep him safe and make sure he’s on the right path, but I’ll have to let him go so that he can find love with someone who can be honest with him. As a human, he’ll never realize the depths of what he’s missing with someone other than me. Most humans don’t even believe in soul-mates. Snorting, I shake my head incredulously at their lack of understanding.

  By the time the elevator opens on the floor above the casino where the shops are located to find coffee, and hopefully, whiskey to warm Denny up, the voice of my creator is playing on a loop through my mind. “So for that, it is you I choose to find your mate first. For that, it is you I give another great reward...You shall lead the resistance against the council.” Even if I can figure out a way for Denny and me to be together, for even a short time, there is no way that I can go up against the council. I’m not like Ophaniel or Caedmon. I follow the rules, both Ancient One’s and the council’s.

  You can no longer follow both, you must choose. Me, your creator, or them, who have forsaken my gifts.

  “Azorath, I’m glad to see you finally came to your senses.” The voice of Ophi jerks me out of my internal battle, and I turn to find him sauntering up to me from inside a bakery.

  “Ophaniel, do you believe we have suflet mwenzas?”

  Staring at me like I’ve suddenly sprouted another head, he asks, “Are you kidding me?”

  Blinking, I’m stunned by the anger I hear in his voice. “No, I’m serious. But what are you so pissed at me for?”

  Dropping his head back, he stares up at the ceiling before fixing his eyes back on me. As we stand eye to eye, I can feel his probing, trying to access my emotions through one of his many gifts as an angel. He knows he can’t if I don’t allow it, but I lower my defenses so that he can grasp the enormity of my turmoil. His eyes grow rounder before he grabs my arm and drags me down the hall and back into another side hallway. Momentarily distracted, I ask, “Why do you know every side hall in this place?”

  With a roll of his eyes and a flick of his hand in dismissal, he says, “You know I don’t like people in my personal space, especially humans. These side hallways come in handy for a little extra-curricular, but hardly the point, Az. What have you been hiding from me?”

  Immediately, I raise my shields back up around me. I didn’t necessarily mean to give him that much access to my mind; my emotions, yes—but my mind, no. Shifting my eyes away from him to look back into the common area, I say, “Nothing. Nothing. It’s not important, anyway. I’m being silly. I have to get drinks to warm up, Denny.” And I begin to walk back out to find a coffee shop.

  Ophaniel lightly grabs both my shoulders from behind me. His voice is calm, but I can hear the quiver to it all the same. “You’re a terrible liar, Az. Mostly because you’re a good being. The best I know, really. If you need me, you call me. As soon as I saw how caught up you were in this Denny mess, I’d decided to move on somewhere else so I could keep playing and not have you ruin my vibe with your constant working. But I’ll stay now. And I’ll be alert for the sound of your voice.”

  Whispering back, I say, “Ophi, right now, I need you to remember the sound of our creator. I need to know if he speaks to you. I need confirmation, my friend. Or I’m scared I’m going to make a grave error. There are only two options, and both have dire consequences if I’m wrong.”

  Increasing the pressure of his hands on my shoulders, he stammers, “I-I’ll do my best. For you, I’ll try. It’s been a long time since I’ve sought the voice of our creator.” His confession saddens me, but certainly isn’t shocking. With one last squeeze, he releases me; I move forward without turning back around, hesitating only slightly when I hear his whispered words, “Yes, I believe in suflet mwenza, but it’s too late, Azorath. It must be centuries too late for us.”

  Before hitting the main hall again, I turn back and ask, “Do you by any chance have a flask of whiskey on you?”

  Narrowing his eyes, he reaches into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulls out a small flask, tossing it to me without question. Catching it in my right hand, I nod at him and stride down the hall in search of coffee. I’ve been gone too long already, and I’m fearful Denny will be gone by the time I return to my room.

  Fortunately, the coffee shop isn’t too far away and there’s no line. Ordering an extra-large decaf coffee, I have the young lady in the shop throw several types of sweetener and cream in the bag containing the two pastries I purchase, one with a fruit filling and the other with chocolate since I don’t know what Denny likes. Armed with coffee, whiskey, and food, I sprint back to the elevator; once reaching my floor, I jog down to my room.

  When I open the door, I blow out a sigh of relief when I hear the soft splashes coming from the tub in the bathroom. Knocking gently on the door, I call in, “You alright in there?”

  After a minute, I hear, “Um, yes, thank you. I’ll be out soon. I’m sorry I’m taking so long.”

  “You’re fine, De—” I cut off before slipping and alerting him to the fact I know his name. Fake choking to try to cover my error, I clear my throat before continuing, “Did you want me to bring your coffee in or I managed to find you a flask of whiskey. Either one would probably help warm you up.”

  “Oh, well, I can wait until I come out, if you don’t mind. The bathtub in here is huge, and once I saw the jet blowers, I turned them on and added more hot water. The whole hotel is nice, but I promise my bathtub in my room isn’t this luxurious.”

  Note to self: mate likes bath, preferably a huge spa bath.

  Oh, for fuck’s sake, what am I even doing? It doesn’t matter what he likes, I can’t keep him, anyway.

  If you’re obedient to th
e sound of my voice you can. He needs you as much as you need him. You’re created to perfectly complement each other.

  For the first time ever, I wish I didn’t know the sound of my creator’s voice. For the first time ever, I wish he couldn’t just speak to me whenever he wants.

  “Um, excuse me?” Denny calls. He lifts his voice higher than before, but he has no way of knowing that aside from setting his things down on the desk, I haven’t moved from the door. Knowing my suflet mwenza is on the other side has me all off-kilter and kind of dumb with wanting to attend to his every need.

  I wait a fraction of a minute so he doesn’t know how creepy I’m being before calling back, “Yes? Do you need something?”

  “Well, uh, I’m ready to get out and get dressed, but uh…”

  My life as a supernatural being, created for a specific purpose and always at the ready for service, I’ve always been a being of action, unwavering and single-minded. None of my kind hesitate or waver; we’re confident in who we are and the choices we make. (Not that most have been making wise choices the last century or so, but yet, they still move with precision and focus.) It’s surprising to me that I’m enjoying my mate’s uncertainty and hesitation. I don’t feel powerful because of it, but he sounds so cute and sweet. And truthfully, I admit to myself, I like the idea of being the one to meet his needs.

  “If you look at the back of the door, I made sure there was a hotel bathrobe hanging there for you. We can do something about getting you a fresh change of clothes after you’ve had something to drink.” And had a good night’s sleep, I finish to myself.

  “Oh, okay. Thank you, Ass,” floats back at me through the door.

  “Ass?” I ask, perplexed at what I’ve done to make him call me a name. Surely, he’s still wary of a perfect stranger carrying him off of the beach and into his room. Calling me an ass seems out of character for my nervous, awkward man.

  “I’m sorry, isn’t that your name? Or wait. Oh my gawd. I’m so sorry. Your friend was only giving you a hard time, wasn’t he? Of course, ass isn’t your name. I-I guess being so cold affected my brain.”

  Trying not to let him hear the laughter in my voice, I reply, “No. No. Don’t apologize. Ophaniel isn’t always clear. You almost got it right. My name is Azzzzzzzz.” I draw out my nickname, putting emphasis on the z.

  4

  Denny

  Of course, his name isn’t Ass. If he wasn’t going to kill me before, surely, he will now. After pulling the stopper on the tub, I step out and dry off quickly. There are several lotions on the counter that I smelled while waiting for the tub to fill up, and one I’d really like to use, but I don’t want to take any longer confronting As-Azzzz about why he brought me here. Pulling the robe off the back of the door and slipping it on, I take a moment to appreciate the downy lushness of the robe. This is a five-star hotel and everything in my own room has been top-notch, but this room is unbelievable. As I put my hand on the door to go out, I randomly wonder if the penthouse suite my uncle is staying in is even nicer than this. I’m not sure how it could be.

  Taking one last deep breath, I turn the knob and step out as confidently as a man wearing a hotel bathrobe in front of a total stranger almost twice his size can. Rounding the corner out of the bathroom, I find Az sitting at the desk in his room, facing the TV as he uses the remote to scroll through the channels. He instantly turns and his black eyes roam over me. For some reason, I get the most self-conscious when his gaze lands on my feet, so I curl my toes into the plush carpeting.

  Az suppresses a grin, raising my hackles, so I blurt out, “Do you plan on killing me or what?”

  His face drains of all color, and his jaw drops open. Finally, he closes his mouth and swallows, but still says nothing. Feeling self-conscious, I start to mess with the tie of the robe, playing with the knot and running my hands up and down the belt while shifting from side to side. “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Az says after several awkward moments.

  Snorting, I say, “I’m not sure I was even on my feet.”

  Az chuckles back. “No, I suppose you weren’t.” Standing up from the desk he approaches me, stopping before entering my personal bubble, and sticks out his right hand. “Hello, my name is Azorath, but my friends call me Az. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Hello, Azorath, my name is Denny. Everyone calls me Denny, except this stranger I met earlier who kept calling me little man.” Oh, my gawd, I can’t believe I said that. Feeling the heat rising up from my neck, I hesitantly place my hand in Az’s so we can shake. He firmly grips my hand and gives it two nice pumps before loosening his grasp and turning my hand in his so that my palm lays in his hand. Then bending slightly at the back, he raises my hand up as he dips his head to press his lips gently to the back of my hand, never breaking eye contact.

  As he stands back up, towering over me once again, he gives my hand a soft squeeze before letting it go and saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Denny. But I prefer the name the stranger had for you. If you don’t mind, that is.”

  Not sure where my courage is coming from tonight, or if I’m still just being reckless, I ask, “Are you making fun of me?”

  Before I’m done asking, a smile splits his face that softens the harsh planes and makes even his scar crinkle. “No, I’m definitely not making fun of you. I like your size. It fits into me perfectly. That’s why I called you little man in the first place. Our first meeting was you nestled in my arms, and I couldn’t believe how right you felt there. Or how protective it made me feel. So, little man denotes how perfectly sized you are for me.”

  “For you?”

  His eyes widen and he says, “Well, you know, I mean, to me.” And then the most unbelievable thing happens, the growly, big man’s face turns as red as mine. We stand awkwardly for about half a minute, then Az spins toward the desk and asks me over his shoulder, “How do you take your coffee?”

  “That was really kind of you, but I think I’m warm enough that I don’t really need it.”

  “Are you sure?” He stops mid-motion of removing the lid from the coffee he bought for me.

  Feeling bad, I tell him the truth. “If I drink that this late, it’ll keep me up.”

  Again, I’m the recipient of the face-splitting smile. “Don’t worry. I got decaf to make sure you could warm up without being kept up all night.”

  “Oh, well then, um, one sugar and one creamer would be great.” I watch him prepare it before he returns the lid to the cup and turns around to hand it to me.

  As soon as I’ve taken a sip, he says, “You can have a seat on the bed if you like. I’ll sit back down here at the desk.”

  Hesitantly, I perch on the edge of the bed, wondering if I should say something or wait to see why he’s brought me here. I don’t have to wait too long; regarding me with those dark, fathomless eyes, he asks, “What were you doing out there in the water like that? It’s dark and you were so far out.”

  Tilting my head at him, the worry in his voice confuses me. “I wasn’t that far out, really. I was still walking.”

  Snorting, he says, “Little man, you were about one step away from there being nothing below you. Didn’t you realize how far out you were? And again, it’s not safe to be in the ocean in the dark alone like that. What were you thinking?”

  He really sounds frustrated with me, panicky even, and I’m not used to anyone caring what I do or why I do it, anymore. Not since my parents died, so I tell him the truth. “Honestly, I wasn’t thinking about anything. Not really. I was wondering if the minnow feels as lost in the ocean as I feel.” Self-consciously I bow my head so his penetrating gaze can’t keep searching my face. I have no idea why I just told this perfect stranger how I feel. I only know it felt right to tell him the truth, like he’s not someone I have to hide from.

  “You feel lost, Denny?” he asks quietly.

  Jerking my head up at his use of my actual name, I look at him before lowering my eyes to my coffee cup and saying, “I don’t feel
lost necessarily; I feel small.”

  “Oh. Well, I’ll stop calling you little man. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel worse.”

  With a small grin, I shake my head. “No, that actually doesn’t bother me. It’s been a long time since I had a nickname. I mean, I feel insignificant. Like I don’t have a choice to go with whatever life hands me because there’s no one to care what I’m going through.”

  “Do you want to tell me what you’re going through? Maybe I can help.”

  Grimacing, I meet his eyes again while shaking my head. “No, you’ve been very nice to me. The last thing I want is to get you caught up in…” I taper off since I’m not even sure what my uncle’s caught up in. But I know it’s not good. And I know he needs me or I wouldn’t have been allowed on this trip. If he’s doing what I think he’s doing, how culpable am I in the crime if I don’t know about it?

  That’s not true now, though. It would be a lie to say I don’t have strong suspicions about what he’s doing. My stomach seizes at the thought, and I run for the bathroom. Falling to my knees to bend over the toilet, my body heaves as I throw up the little bit of food I’ve managed to eat. The thoughts spinning in my mind keep me hunched over the toilet until there’s nothing coming up but bile and spit. Vaguely I become aware that Azorath is kneeled down next to me rubbing my back with one hand and pushing my hair off my forehead with the other.

  Shakily, I say, “Bet you didn’t expect to be doing this tonight.”

  Instead of answering me, he rises up and turns on the faucet. The next thing I know, his hand is prying my left hand off of the rim of the toilet to place a cold wet washcloth in it. Lifting it to my face with a trembling hand, I wash off my mouth before he gently takes it away and places a small plastic cup in my hand. After a few sips, I hand it back up to him, wondering how he knew I was left handed. It’s nothing but a random thought because once again I find myself being lifted into his arms.