by CC Bridges
Jeff’s heart hammered. He’d ignored Gabe’s basic needs, not even considering Gabe might not just help himself to their food. No, Jeff had been too busy perving on the angel, caught up in his whimpers and moans as Jeff had spread the oil over one golden wing.
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re here to stock up on food, then,” Jeff said.
“Some real food?” Kayla asked. Ronnie had spoiled the child.
“Some of that too. Come on, precious”—she ducked away at the old nickname—“the sooner we start, the sooner we can meet up with Gabe.”
Jeff did not want to leave Gabe alone for long. After this? He’d sit on the angel to keep him in one place.
IAN’S BIKE had a sidecar attached, and as humiliating as it was sitting in it, Gabriel didn’t have to worry about passing out again and tumbling to his death when Ian put the thing into hover mode. They didn’t go far, about ten blocks from the market, the streets getting narrower the farther they traveled. The smell of trash and unwashed flesh from the market faded but still lingered in Gabriel’s nose. A few faces peered out the windows of the short two-story dwellings that ran the length of the block, probably curious about whoever was driving by. Most of the houses, whether they were made of brick or wood, had reinforced doors of polished metal with blinking sensors overhead. He guessed the modern tech was easier to find near the market.
Ronnie’s place, to his surprise, appeared to be some sort of tavern. An old-fashioned sign hung over the door, though the name seemed to be hand-painted. The gray stone walls were shored up by metallic silver plating and the older golden alloy he’d noticed before.
Gabriel touched the wall before they walked inside, marveling how the metal seemed to merge seamlessly into the stone. Once he crossed the open doorway, he felt some sort of sensor ray scan him. He tried to engage his hypervision, to view the mechanics behind it. But nothing happened. Without his halo, had he lost this ability as well? He rubbed his forehead at the ache that still would not go away.
Ian touched a panel on the inside of the tavern. “Just have to vouch for you, otherwise forceshield won’t let you get very far.”
Gabriel hadn’t expected such sophisticated technology down here. Clearly there was more communication between Old Trent and the city above than he had been led to believe. Then again, in a place as dangerous as below, he expected they’d need every bit of security tech they could get.
“Sit tight. I’ll ask Ronnie to grab you something to eat.” Ian showed him to one of the booths along the walls. None of them matched. Each bench had cushions of a different color. Someone had carved into the wood of one of them, a long series of initials and dates.
“You always this bossy?” Gabriel grumbled, falling into a bench with soft green pillows. He felt better since the nutridrink, but his head still pounded, and it seemed like he would never find relief.
“You have no idea,” Ian muttered before moving to the front of the tavern, to the bar that stretched across one wall. He spoke to the brown-skinned woman there, who looked over at Gabriel with an assessing eye. She was dressed in a long dress with purple and red patterns woven into the fabric. All eyes would flock to her no matter what she wore. While Ian gave off that impression of being in charge, he saw something different in her, but no less potent.
Gabriel looked away. He tried not to make eye contact with anyone else in the room, though only a few people sat at the other tables and booths. This was nothing like sitting at the commissary at home, where rows and rows of tables were set up to feed as many angels as possible. Ronnie kept her place brightly lit, clean, and filled with the rich scent of warm food. Unlike at the market, Gabriel’s mouth watered, hunger finally churning in his belly.
“So you’re Jeff’s boy?”
He looked up, startled that he hadn’t heard the woman come up to the booth. A halo of tiny curls framed her round face, her dark eyes narrowed and lips pursed while she stared down at him.
“I’m no one’s boy,” he shot back, his feathers ruffled. Only as he denied the accusation did he think that perhaps Jeff’s protection was all that stood between him and everyone else in Old Trent.
One eyebrow arched, and the lips melted into a smirk. “Ian said you were prickly. Good. Just what Jeff needs. Now, sweetheart, what can I cook up for you?”
Gabriel blinked at the sudden change in tone. “Um. No meat please.” He remembered how the smell of it made him sick in the market. He didn’t want to actually attempt eating it and have it all come up again.
“No problem, sugar. Sit tight.” And then she was gone.
Ian slid onto the bench across from him, an arrogant grin on his too handsome features. He thumped the table. It looked like wood, but Gabriel couldn’t be sure. “Ronnie takes care of her own.”
“Jeff, I presume.” Gabriel met Ian’s gaze directly. He didn’t want to back down, to show how unsettled he was to be here, not knowing where Jeff and Kayla were or how to contact them.
“Mmmm.” Ian sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “And of course us rejects from midlevel have to stick together.”
Gabriel tensed, wondering if he could make it out of here before Ian caught him. But he had nowhere to go. “What do you mean?” He tried to deflect the question but knew that no one could mistake the stiffness in his shoulders, the panic in his eyes.
“Relax, boy. Not here to throw you to the demons. Hank and I left, shit, almost a year ago now.”
Gabriel’s mouth went dry. He didn’t know people left midlevel. Who would leave paradise to willingly descend to the land of the demons? “Why?”
Ian shrugged. He pressed his hands back to the table, as if at a loss without something to touch. “We couldn’t be ourselves up there. You know how it is. Two men together is still something strange, never mind the collar….”
“And here it’s different.”
“Fuck, here is where everyone comes for their deviance.” Ian shook his head. “We’re almost too normal for Old Trent.”
Gabriel thought back to the market, how Kayla wasn’t allowed near whatever booth Ian and Hank ran, how Hank stood wearing his collar but no shirt. “Whoring out your partner is normal?”
Ian slammed the table, his eyes stormy. “Nobody fucks my boy but me.”
Gabriel held up his hands in apology. “I didn’t mean….”
“I know. I get touchy about it.” Ian deflated, sitting back again. “Hank’s not here to make jokes.” His eyes softened when he mentioned his lover. “We wanted you to know you’re not alone.”
Something occurred to Gabriel and he leaned forward. “Is there a way to get a message up there?” If people were traveling between midlevel and Old Trent, surely there was a way to communicate. Maybe he could get a message to the other angels.
“Sure, if you talk to the right demon.”
Demons who, of course, wanted Gabriel dead. No, he would not be seeking out any demons for help.
JEFF PULLED the truck in to park in the dark alley behind Ronnie’s place. His gut burned with fear. He should have known Ian would peg Gabe for an updweller. Now if he made Gabe as an angel and hooked him up with a way to get a message upstairs, then Jeff and Kayla were both screwed.
Trixie barked as Kayla opened the door, and both of them shot out of the truck.
“Take it easy,” Jeff shouted. He wanted to hurry himself, but he made a show of double-checking that the forceshields were up while Hank watched him with heavy-lidded eyes.
“You could make him your boy, you know.”
For once he was grateful the old argument had been brought up. It was better than Hank accusing him of harboring an angel. “Not everyone needs a boy.”
“You know what I mean, Jeff. You’re all alone in that junkyard of yours.”
“I’m sure Kayla and Trixie would argue with you there.” He knew it wasn’t the same, not as Hank meant it. Jeff remembered how it felt to hold Leah in his arms each night, to wake with her warmth at his side.
Hank
touched his arm before Jeff went into Ronnie’s. “Think about it, Jeff. S’all I’m saying.”
Jeff was actually trying rather hard not to think about it. Especially when they walked in and Gabe’s face lit up at the sight of Jeff. ’Course, that might have something to do with Gabe being dependent on Jeff for everything right now. The poor bastard didn’t even know demons had been the ones to give him to Jeff.
“Heard someone fainted.” Jeff approached the table. Kayla had already slid in next to Gabe, who had a bowl of one of Ronnie’s concoctions in front of him. Jeff’s mouth watered at the scent of the roasted vegetables over rice. He just knew Ronnie had spiced it perfectly too. Trixie thumped her tail under the table, probably waiting for her share. He barely glanced at Ian who sat across from the angel.
Gabe flushed, his cheeks darkening nicely. “I forgot to eat.”
Which probably wasn’t a good idea with him recovering from whatever the demons had done to knock him out. “I never should have dragged you out here,” Jeff said.
Hank came up and all but crawled onto the bench next to Ian, nuzzling just under his ear. “Missed you.”
“Get a room,” Jeff grumbled.
“Why do they need a room?” Kayla asked, all wide-eyed.
He rubbed her head, mussing up her hair good and proper. “Don’t give me that fake innocence crap, kid. I know where you live. Now go say hi to Ronnie. She might have some scraps for Trixie.”
Kayla laughed and slid out of the booth, her dog following with a sharp bark. Jeff took her seat, not thinking about how close he was sitting to the angel. Damn but these booths were narrow.
“Ronnie made me vegetable stew.” Gabe held out the bowl. He’d eaten about half of it. How much exactly did angels need to eat? If he required some other form of energy, Gabe hadn’t come to Jeff about it yet.
“She’s good at that.” Ronnie had her own contacts, just like Jeff had his. While his offered tech and power cells, hers somehow found fresh food.
“I’ve been talking to Gabe about midlevel,” Ian said absently, as if his words didn’t cause panic to race through Jeff’s blood.
“Oh?”
“About why they left,” Gabe filled in.
Jeff sat back, feeling a trickle of sweat slide down his neck. There were things Gabe couldn’t learn. If he escaped, if he managed to find his way back to the angels, then it was all over. Jeff couldn’t pay back his debt, and who knew what Luca would do to Kayla? What the hell had he been thinking, taking Gabe off the junkyard?
But if he let the demons continue with their plan, with whatever it was that had spilled so much angel blood, then Jeff was bringing war down on all of Old Trent. He was fucked no matter what he did.
Kayla came back with her own bowl of stew, and Jeff excused himself to get some food. He needed to think. And talk to someone much smarter than him.
“Let me help you with that,” he said to Ronnie, following her back into the kitchen with the large empty tray she was about to return.
“Oh I know that tone of voice.” She shook her head. “That’s the one that says ‘I fucked up and I need some advice.’”
He laughed. “You could tell all that with just a few words, huh?”
Jeff sat on the stool near the counter, watching as Ronnie wiped down her workspace and then laid out more ingredients for cooking. She was one of the few people who could make nutricubes palatable, and he was more than grateful for it during the times of the year they couldn’t get real food from the market.
Her kitchen fit her, cluttered with every pot, pan, and knife imaginable, but sparkling clean. She could find whatever she needed, no matter how deeply buried beneath other utensils. He’d been the one to find the old fridge she kept next to the super cooler she’d gotten from the market. Jeff had modded the gas stove to work with the generator she had down in the basement. So much of himself was in this kitchen too.
“I’ve known you too long, Jeff Werth. Now spill.”
They’d been children together, years ago now. Long before he even met Leah, before he’d become Old Man Giambi’s apprentice, back when Mattie had been too young to do more than waddle on chubby legs after them. He closed his eyes at the thought of her, how she was unwilling to accept life here in Old Trent, always wanting more even back then.
“Gabe’s an angel,” he blurted, the confession erupting out of him. Ronnie always could make him talk even when he didn’t want to.
Ronnie had been slicing something. She turned around, still holding the long knife in one hand. “This ain’t a time for joking around, Jeff.”
“I ain’t joking.” He dropped his head in his hands. “Nazaro showed up yesterday. Gabe knocked out. They wanted his halo. Fuck if I know what they’re going to do with it.”
“Nothing good.”
“No,” Jeff agreed. “He told me to keep Gabe around. In case they needed him.”
“And you agreed?” Her voice got louder, and Jeff made a shushing motion. “Jeff.”
“Ronnie, he threatened Kayla. Reminded me I owe Luca a favor. What the fuck else can I do?” Because no matter what, if it came right down to it, Jeff would choose Kayla over the whole damn city.
“Dammit, Jeff. This don’t sit well with me.” Ronnie frowned. “You know I’d do anything for that child, but….”
He understood. Ronnie wouldn’t sacrifice one person for another. She’d find a way. Jeff just hoped she could give him a clue, because he was caught. “There’s more….,” he started, about to tell her what Chase had discovered.
The back door slammed and Mattie entered the kitchen. “Got you a chicken. You don’t want to know what it cost.” She held out a sack, and Jeff really didn’t want to see what was inside.
“Put it in the freezer.” Ronnie tilted her head toward the large silver box behind her.
“You’re not even going to cook it fresh?” Mattie snapped, dropping the sack into the freezer. “Why’d I need to get one so fast, then?”
“’Cause we had none,” Ronnie shot back.
Jeff wished he could remember the last time he’d been around the sisters and a conversation without all the yelling. Unfortunately that hadn’t happened since Mattie had started looking for work uplevel.
“Plenty of things we don’t got.” Mattie slammed the lid shut.
Ronnie waved her knife, and Jeff backed up a step. “Don’t even start with that.”
“C’mon, Ronnie.” Mattie swiped a piece of food from her sister’s cutting board and bit into it. “Don’t tell me you’re happy here. Cooking for whoever moseys on in. Don’t you want to be somebody?”
“I am somebody,” Ronnie said. “Don’t you put this on me. You’re the one who wants to move on up there. Even if I had the money, the ID chip, whatever else you need, you’d still find me right here.”
“Bullshit.”
“I think I’m, ah, nice seeing you, Mattie.” Jeff backed away before turning and fleeing the kitchen.
He didn’t want to get between the two sisters any more than he wanted to get between the angels and demons. At least he had a choice on this one.
“AND THEN we had to return the gondola before anyone noticed it was missing. Of course, Hank had lost the keycard….”
Gabriel listened as Ian talked about their life in midlevel, in the lower circles, where he had been one of the working class. Luckily it seemed Ian didn’t expect Gabriel to talk about his own life in return. He’d been fighting demons, keeping buildings secure, doing whatever Metatron ordered. And when he went to rest his head in sleep, it was on the highest level of toplevel, the spires that stretched toward the heavens, not the busy city of midlevel.
Hank and Ian would have been just two of the many people in Gabriel’s charge. Even if he had encountered them up in Heaven, he would never have sat down to a meal with them. Angels needed to hold themselves separate, to make sure Metatron’s will was done. Perhaps that was why so many people feared angels as much as loved them.
Kayla leaned
over the table, her head propped on her hands, caught up in the story Hank was telling—something about sneaking out when he was younger. But Gabriel had stopped paying attention. The long day dragged on him, and to be honest, he missed Jeff’s presence.
“Are you ready to head home?” Almost as if summoned, Jeff appeared beside them. His eyes looked tired, though he tried to smile.
Home. Home was a long way away.
Kayla yawned as she pushed away from the table. “We have to visit again soon, though.”
“Next market day.” Jeff tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. He had such affection for his daughter, was so at ease with her. Gabriel didn’t understand why that made him ache.
“And we’ll come by when it’s time to pick up Hank’s bike,” Ian said. Hank nodded in agreement from his place at Ian’s feet. He’d knelt there after they’d finished eating, and Gabriel still didn’t understand why. Just thinking about it made his head throb.
Ronnie came out from the kitchen, a wrapped-up dish in her hands. “You’re not leaving without some leftovers. Lord knows Jeff’s no cook.”
To Gabriel’s surprise, she handed the dish to him. He bowed slightly. “Thank you.”
“You know you can always rent one of the rooms here.” Her eyes were intense, giving her words more importance. “You don’t have to go all the way back to the junkyard.”
Did she mean only for tonight, or did she have a more permanent arrangement in mind? Gabriel supposed if he was an ordinary midlevel refugee, he’d be looking for a way to stand on his own two feet, make his way in Old Trent. He met Jeff’s eyes. No, he wasn’t a normal refugee, and only Jeff knew the truth and kept his secret.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he told her.
He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or if Jeff visibly relaxed in relief.
“Come on, then.” A chorus of goodbyes followed them as they pushed through the tavern door.
Night had fallen, the city now shrouded in blackness, the streetlamps barely enough to compensate. Shadows surrounded the alley Jeff led them to, hiding the truck until they nearly walked into it. Jeff unlocked the doors and Gabriel climbed inside, waiting for Trixie to follow.