by CC Bridges
“Good night, Jeff.”
Gabe turned and slipped into the house. Jeff wished the night had ended with more than that simple touch. But when had he ever gotten anything he wished for?
Chapter Eight
SOMETHING HAD bugged Hank about Gabe from the moment Jeff introduced him. First of all, Jeff wasn’t the kind to take in strays—that was more Ronnie’s bag. At first Hank thought Jeff was just shy about picking up Gabe from, well, wherever he’d picked him up from.
See that was another thing. For such a pretty man, Gabe had to come from Heaven. Either that or be the victim of some serious downlevel experimentation. Gabe had confirmed he’d come from uplevel.
But if he had come from Heaven, why hadn’t he recognized Hank? Then again, it had been over a year since Hank had made his unceremonious exit, so, sure there had to be bigger scandals to take his place. Something childish inside him felt offended he’d been forgotten so easily.
He did look different. Down here he didn’t have access to the kind of treatments that kept him fresh-faced and young. Ian had to actually teach him how to shave. And of course, living down on Earth meant he aged faster than before.
Why didn’t Gabe seem to know about the pillars when he’d asked Ian about getting a message back up top? If he hadn’t come from there, then how the heck had Gabe fallen to Earth anyhow?
“Are you paying attention?” Kayla asked, sounding way too put out for a kid.
He’d come back to the junkyard for lessons—you couldn’t live down here and be useless at putting shit together. Right now Hank operated below Kayla’s level, so she took turns with her dad showing him the basics.
Hank liked to think his own kids would turn out as well as Jeff’s daughter.
“Get out of your head, love,” Ian said in a low voice from his place at the door to Kayla’s workshop. Even now he couldn’t break the habit of guarding entrances.
“Not in front of Kayla, dear. You promised Jeff.” Hank adjusted his safety goggles and leaned in toward the worktable. “Show me that last bit again.”
They worked in silence for a moment, with Hank handing her the appropriate tools. The stench of burned metal filled the room. Hank wrinkled his nose. He still hadn’t gotten used to the way things smelled down here.
The door swung open, and Hank was sure he was the only one to notice how Ian stiffened and reached for a weapon. Gabe stood there, framed by the faint light streaming in behind him.
He looked different—some of the stiffness gone from his shoulders, and his eyes were clear and focused, instead of confused. The clothes he wore overpowered him, making it look like Gabe drowned in fabric.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were here.” Gabe frowned. “I didn’t hear the alarm.”
“I knew they were coming, so I let them in,” Kayla said.
Gabe opened his mouth and then closed it.
“Kayla is giving me lessons,” Hank explained. “Want to help?” He had the sudden sense that if he spoke too loud, then he would spook Gabe.
“All right. Sure.” Gabe smiled.
Great. Now maybe Hank could figure Gabe out.
IT WASN’T that Gabe was surprised to see Hank and Ian in the junkyard. It was that they were in Kayla’s workshop, unsupervised. Jeff must trust them to let them be alone with his daughter. To expose her to this level of sexual deviancy….
No. He had to stop thinking like an angel. Heaven’s laws about morality didn’t apply down here. And if he planned on rejecting everything he’d been, Gabe had better start now, with two of Jeff’s closest friends.
Since the return of his memories, Gabe felt a bit like he didn’t fit inside his own skin. He’d walked the junkyard, hoping that physical movement might help. Instead he felt like a ghost, haunting the ruins of civilization. That’s when he decided to visit Kayla. Perhaps her bright enthusiasm could break him out of this cloud of memory that hovered over him.
She and Hank both sat on benches, their heads bent toward their individual tasks. Ian stared at Hank with an expression on his face that bordered between fondness and exasperation. Gabe noticed he looked like that a lot. Trixie had curled up under the table, looking somehow small despite the fact that Gabe damn well knew she was a huge dog.
“What are you working on?” Gabe asked, forcing himself to be in the present.
“I’m showing Hank how to solder circuit boards.” Kayla had a slim soldering gun in one hand. The tool smoked slightly, and Gabe marveled at her skill for her age.
“This tech is so fu—” Hank cut himself off. “Freaking old.”
“Yes,” Kayla agreed, “which means there’s no one around to fix it if something goes bad.”
Ian stepped closer. “She’s not wrong.”
“Then why don’t you grab some goggles and help?”
“It’s too much fun to watch you.”
Gabe smiled and rubbed at the ache in his chest. “I suppose I should learn all that too. I mean, if I’m going to live down here permanently.”
“Dad will teach you, if you want,” Kayla said. She narrowed her eyes as she attacked the board in front of her, the smell of the heated metal filling the air.
Hank watched her and then attempted to work on his own project. Even Gabe could tell that he lacked the same level of skill. At least he had eagerness to make up for it. Hank’s board started to smoke slightly.
“Oh, Hank. Not like that.” Kayla set down her own tool and got up from the table. She walked over to where he sat and pointed where he’d gone wrong.
Trixie got to her feet, probably thinking Kayla meant to leave, although Gabe couldn’t be sure. He could only stare at what happened next, as if time had started to slow.
Trixie knocked into the table as she stood, her bulk jostling the legs. The soldering gun that Kayla left on the edge of the table started to roll. It fell, on target to hit the dog directly on her head.
Ian moved, dashing in the way with impossible speed. He reached out and grabbed the tool with his bare hand. “Ow.”
“Ian!” Hank got to his feet.
“Trixie!” Kayla slid to her knees and checked on the dog, who licked her face.
“It’s fine.” Ian set the soldering gun down in a much securer location. Hank grabbed Ian’s palm and winced at the redness on his skin.
“It’s not fine,” Hank said. “Where’s the first aid kit?”
Kayla got to her feet and pointed to a drawer behind him. Tears streamed down her face. “I’m sorry! I should have been more careful.”
“Kayla, I’m fine,” Ian said. He smiled at her and didn’t even wince when Hank cleaned the burn with a wipe from the kit. “It was an accident.”
Gabe reached out to touch Kayla’s shoulder. To his surprise, she turned around and hugged him. He stroked her hair and let her sniffle into his shirt. “It’s okay, she’s fine. See?”
“And you,” Hank said as he sprayed something onto Ian’s palm, “have to learn you don’t always have to put yourself into danger to save others.”
Ian smiled at him. “You know that’s not true.”
Gabe stared at them, that heaviness back in his chest. Once, he had a relationship like that, someone he could tease and love and count on when things grew difficult. He’d lost Rocco, but maybe he hadn’t quite lost the chance for something like this again. Gabe had his life back. Anything was possible. Maybe even… with Jeff?
Chapter Nine
WHEN JEFF told him to work on starting over in Old Trent, Gabe was pretty darn sure this wasn’t what Jeff had meant. Of course, Gabe didn’t quite believe he was walking into the heart of Old Trent with Ian while Hank trailed behind, a leash clipped to Hank’s collar and held tightly in Ian’s hand.
They had shown up that afternoon at the junkyard with the excuse that they were checking up on Hank’s bike. But when Ian offered to take Gabe to some of the popular clubs downtown, Jeff had merely bit his lip, looked over at Gabe, and said, “It’s up to you.”
Gabe had s
aid yes. He needed to be away from Jeff right now. His memories were too vivid, too close to the surface after the block had broken in such spectacular fashion. Rocco’s face hovered behind his mind’s eye, as he looked two hundred years ago when Gabriel had kissed him goodbye to go to work—deep brown eyes, a perpetually smiling mouth, and black hair that stuck up in all directions no matter what product he added.
He couldn’t grieve for Rocco with Jeff right there. It wasn’t fair to either man, the one he had loved and who had died two hundred years ago, or the one he found himself growing attached to now. Gabe wasn’t sure a night on the town was the best idea for dealing with his fractured mind, but he found he couldn’t stay in the junkyard right now.
“You’re quiet,” Ian said.
Did he want commentary on his leather pants? Or perhaps the harness Hank wore instead of a shirt? He felt overdressed in his jeans, flannel shirt, and jacket.
Gabe stuffed his hands into the pockets of the borrowed jacket and shrugged. “I’m still recovering from Hank’s driving.”
Hank sputtered in protest behind them as Ian chuckled. The ride would have been smoother if he hadn’t been riding in the sidecar attached to the bike, but Gabe hadn’t complained. He’d been too lost in thought and knew he had to shake it or else he’d be trapped in memories all night. Seeing Ian sitting with his arms wrapped around his lover as he drove the bike was too much. Gabe ached for what had been taken from him a long time ago.
“Once we turn the corner”—Ian jutted his chin forward—“it’ll be chaos. Just warning you.”
They had parked the bike behind the crumbled remains of what looked like an old factory. Ian had set the forceshields, pocketing the remote. Most likely Jeff had programmed that for them. But why in Heaven’s name were they dumping the bike so far from their destination?
“Thanks,” Gabe said, but he didn’t really understand until they turned, leaving behind the dark and narrow street, with its twisted trees growing out of doorways and cracked and broken cement. They stepped onto newly paved road, walking into a wonderland made of shining light and sparkling tech.
If they weren’t walking on solid ground instead of metal platforms and gliders, Gabe would have thought they were in midlevel. Gondolas speckled the sky, hovering around two large cylindrical buildings that sparkled with glowing lights. Clubs and other establishments advertised their wares down the stretch of road, lights and holograms so bright as to be nearly blinding.
Then there were the people. Crowds of them walked along this corridor, talking, laughing, or ducking into doorways. Some were modded, clustered around a building with a flickering hologram of a violet-skinned woman dancing. More citizens from uplevel laughed together, their voices loud after Gabe had gotten used to the quiet down below.
Gabe ached at first, his gut twisting with a desire for home. Sunlight and comfort waited just above those tall pillars, and Gabriel missed it. But Heaven wasn’t home anymore, would never be home again. He wouldn’t trade his newfound knowledge for a return to being a mindless drone. He wouldn’t choose to forget Rocco to go back up there. And that meant he truly was a fallen angel, cut off from everything he had been for two centuries. His chest hurt at the thought.
“If you wanted,” Ian said softly, ignoring the crowds, the lights, everything to whisper in Gabe’s ear, “you could get a message up to midlevel.”
Gabe turned and looked at him. “Why the hell would I want to do that?”
“You asked about it.” Ian stepped back, as if surprised at Gabe’s sudden anger. “At Ronnie’s.”
Right, back when he thought he was in exile and wanted to go back, do his duty, and report in. Gabe shook his head. Had he changed so much in so few days? “I decided I like it just fine down here.”
“Still,” Ian tried again, “if there is someone you care for, perhaps they’d like to know you’re alive.”
Ian didn’t know the truth. He thought Gabe was like him and Hank, who’d chosen to leave Heaven for good. Of course, they were also just men, barely modded and free. Gabe clenched his fist. His missing wing still ached. His entire body had been molded to shape someone else’s dream. He didn’t even have that much.
“No one,” he said. “No one at all.”
Hank moved to his lover’s side, snuggling in close so Ian had to throw an arm around him. “Where should we take him? I think Lick would be too much of a shock.”
“I don’t really shock easily.” Gabe appreciated Hank changing the subject, so he offered the other man a smile.
Ian gave him a look, his eyes hooded. “If we do go to Lick, you’ll have to stick close. You’ve got a neck that just begs for a collar.”
So Lick was that kind of club. Gabe grinned. Without his memory block, Gabe understood Hank and Ian in a way he couldn’t before. Angels were taught to despise that kind of deviance in Heaven, so it hadn’t even occurred to his former self. Sex was just another way to feed the needs of the body, and only with other angels.
But as far as Gabe could remember, he hadn’t been anyplace like that before. He and Rocco had been terribly vanilla. The memory made him smile now, thinking of tumbling his lover into bed, nothing but bare limbs and the sheets to tangle with. Rocco was always conscious of his larger size, not wanting to hurt Gabe. He had gentle hands that fit perfectly against Gabe’s hips, holding him in place while Gabe rode Rocco to completion.
Gabe closed his eyes and took a moment to compose himself. If he wanted to stop dwelling on old memories, it was time to make some new ones.
JEFF WAITED until Kayla seemed occupied with taking apart the engine of an old-fashioned motorbike before hiding away in his workshop. He kept the video feed on her, flickering in the tiny screen on his worktable, still not comfortable with his daughter out of his field of vision. Kayla would be annoyed if she found out, and he knew he’d have to let her grow up eventually. Just not right now.
Gabe had left earlier with Hank and Ian. It gave him the space to do this, but Jeff couldn’t quite let himself relax. He couldn’t keep Gabe imprisoned here. It would look too suspicious. And the demons never said he had to keep the angel in sight at all times, just have him healthy and available if needed. Jeff avoided thinking about what they’d need him for.
Pushing aside his doubts, he typed in the code for the demon network. This would be easier if he could jack in, ride the net like he used to. Jeff wouldn’t have to depend on anyone else to find the person he needed to contact, not when all the demons were wired themselves. His hand snaked to the back of his neck to fiddle with the sealed port there. Jeff snatched it away and tried to concentrate on the screen.
After being ping-ponged through the network, he finally hit on Nazaro’s beacon. The demon’s snarling face appeared on the large screen on the wall. “Werth? Contacting me? Don’t tell me you went and killed the angel boy yourself?”
The anger rose in his throat, and Jeff fought to keep it down. “Not stupid, Nazaro. He’s doing fine. Better than the last time you saw him.”
“Luca knows he can depend on you.”
Jeff didn’t have time to make small talk, and he didn’t want to discuss the terms of his deal with Luca. What he needed was to warn Nazaro of the risks. “Look, I don’t know what Luca’s game is, and I really don’t give two shits. But you gotta tell him to cool his little angel-killing spree. Word is the angels have noticed. The last thing we need is them looking down here.”
“Why, Werth, I didn’t know ya cared.”
“Fine. See if I bring you intel again.”
Nazaro leaned forward. “I’m telling you not to worry about it, Werth. You think Luca don’t know? He got what he needed. We just need to lay low for a while, dig?”
What Luca needed. The halo, it must be. But then why keep Gabe around?
“Lay low. Got it.” Jeff moved to end the connection.
“Just remember.” Nazaro had to get the last word in. “Keep angel boy close. Might need him in a hurry.”
Jeff cut the
signal. He stared at the screen for a moment, debating on his next course of action. Right now the demons had knowledge he didn’t, and Jeff couldn’t afford to remain in the dark. He never could let anything go; that had been his problem. Before he could think better of it, he plugged in Chase’s code.
“You know, Jeff, we never just talk anymore.”
“Shut up,” Jeff said. Chase’s avatar appeared on the screen, a familiar sight. One of Jeff’s own projections had looked like a slightly more perfect version of himself, younger, smoother, without any of the messy complications of a physical body. Sometimes he still missed it.
“How’s your boy?” Chase asked.
“The memory block dissolved. He seems to be fine.” Despite the seizures and falling into unconsciousness, Gabe did seem fine. Angels were made of strong stuff. “I need to ask you something.”
“’Course. Knew it wasn’t just a social call. Not like Ronnie. She keeps trying to invite me to one of her gatherings. Not going to happen.”
Chase wouldn’t want anyone to know what he really looked like. Jeff ignored the commentary. “Why would anyone want an angel’s halo?”
Chase frowned, his features looking slightly more human for the movement. “Well, my guess would be to get into the Angel Network.”
“Angel Network?” Jeff thought back to his days of riding the net, trying to remember if he’d heard of that. He’d forgotten so much, his own brain not powerful enough to keep track of all the information he’d had access to once upon a time.
“It’s unhackable. I’ve heard stories of people who tried and flatlined before they got any farther than the outer wall. They say the Angel Network is plugged right into the God AI.”
Jeff snorted. “The God AI? Come on, that’s a story they tell noobs who’ve just gotten their first ports.”