by Elara Skye
Jack finally sauntered over, waving goodbye as the person to her left exited the bar. “You look like you’re waiting on a call.”
“Nah.” She shook her head. “I mean, I might get one, but I’m not waiting for it.”
“Really?”
Amelia felt the alcohol a little as she swiveled her eyes up to him—maybe she shouldn’t have ordered the second beer. “Look,” she waved a hand. “Don’t sass me. The guy’s nice, but I don’t like him.”
“Why?” He furrowed a brow. “What’d he do?”
“He didn’t do anything; I just don’t like him.”
“Ah…” Jack nodded comprehendingly. “Got it, you don’t want to like him.”
Amelia narrowed her eyes. “Don’t sass on my self-resolve.”
“Sorry that I’ve got nothing better to do,” Jack answered emphatically, grabbing a glass to wipe down—classic idle mode. “Go on. Entertain me with your stories.”
“Okay, fine.” Amelia took another sip. “I’ll tell you the story of Finn. The story of Finn is that I met him on Christmas for the first time, but we have a lot of mutual friends. He was nice to me, but I’ve heard bad things about him. So, I’m unhappy.”
“So, why’d you give him your number?”
Amelia stared at him—the embarrassment was only held back by the alcohol. “What?”
“You’ve been staring at your phone. Why’d you give him your number if you don’t want to talk to him?”
“Because, Jack. He’s polite, attractive, and my libido was calling the shots.”
“Okay, then don’t answer if he calls.”
She paused. “What?”
“If you don’t want to talk to him, then don’t answer. And stop waiting for it. Problem solved.”
Amelia raised the glass to her lips, narrowing her eyes at him. She loosened a heavy breath as she set it back down. “That simple, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s that simple.” He paused. “How are you getting home, by the way?
“I’ll call a caxitab if I’m not sober.”
“A what?”
“A taxicab.”
Jack’s face turned grave. “Okay, you should come back here later; I’ll give you a ride, and—” His eyes jumped over her shoulder suddenly. “Oh, hey, dude!”
A tall figure appeared beside her—dark hair, lazy smile—and draped a tan trench coat over the bar. “Hey, man, how you been?”
“Good, how about you? Haven’t seen you in a while,” Jack said.
“Can’t complain,” the guy answered. “Just stopping off here before I meet some friends.”
“Not spending New Year’s with the rest of us, huh?” Jack laughed, while Amelia raised the glass to her lips, tracking the conversation absently. “Usual for you?”
“Yes, please. And who’s ‘us?’”
His gaze jumped back to her. “Oh, this is my friend Amelia,” he said. “She works here too. She came to hang out for a bit before the fireworks.”
With both their eyes on her, Amelia realized that she’d been feeling around for a straw that wasn’t there, to drink from a glass that was now empty. She swallowed thickly, turning away for a moment to shove her embarrassment down, and then smiled when she turned back.
“Hi,” she held out a hand, “I’m Amelia.”
“Hey, there! I’m Julian.”
“Nice to meet you.” She glanced back at Jack, gesturing to the glass. “I can handle water now, I think.”
He nodded briskly. “Probably a good idea.”
Julian turned to face her, leaning against the counter. “So, you’re a friend of Jack’s?”
“He’s my second-best work buddy.” She smiled as Jack came back around. “Ton of fun, but not enough to make me work on New Year’s Eve.”
Julian nodded. “Understandable. I wouldn’t want to, either. It looked pretty busy, even from outside.”
“And we all still ended up in here. Crazy people.”
“Great minds think alike, though, right?” He raised his bottle to her.
“Yeah—we think masochistically.” She clinked her glass against his, and he chuckled again. “Do you live around here?”
“Yeah, working and getting my master’s from Barron University.”
“Wow, that’s impressive. What’re you studying?”
“Analytics,” he said. “What about you? Go to school around here?”
“No,” she laughed heartily, not for any particular reason—though she certainly could’ve passed for a graduate student. “I got an MBA down south before I moved here.”
“Oh, that’s cool—you like business, then?”
“Not really,” Amelia shook her head, “corporate America turned out pretty toxic, so I dropped it.”
“Dropped it? Interesting.” Julian studied her carefully. “Your bosses must’ve been pretty bad.”
She shrugged. “Kind of, yeah.”
“When’d you move here? How do you like it?”
“A few years ago,” she said. “And it’s nice. I still haven’t met that many people, though. That’s why I came out here tonight.”
“Gotcha.” He nodded, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Well, I don’t know if you wanted to stay in here, but Jack mentioned you were going to go see the fireworks—they’re going to start soon, you’re welcome to join if you feel like having some company. I’m meeting my group down at Town Hall.”
“Oh...” The invitation came as a surprise, but she considered it for a moment. The man was a stranger, but they’d be in public, and she was going to see the fireworks anyway. Afterward, Jack had offered her a ride home. “Sure, I’m heading that way anyway.”
“Awesome,” Julian offered a friendly grin as he checked his phone, “They’re actually almost there, do you want to head out?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“We’ll close out, Jack,” Julian said, holding a card out to him. “I’ll cover both of us.”
Amelia shot him an impressed look—wondering how and why Jack’s friend would deign to pay so much for a stranger’s drinks. “Uh, are you sure?”
“Definitely. It’ll save time.”
She smiled. “Okay, thanks.”
“Of course, don’t mention it.”
“Yeah, you guys go have fun,” Jack took the card, “while I stay here and slave away at the counter. You’ll come right back here, right, Amelia?”
“Yup,” Amelia said. “I’ll call if anything. And I’ll cheer extra hard for you at midnight.”
“Wait—” Jack was quick to bring the card back, and quickly filled up another plastic cup of water, which he handed to her. “Finish that, alright? And Happy New Year!”
“Will do,” she said as they stood to leave. “Happy New Year!”
“Bye, man!” Julian waved as he followed her across the sparsely filled restaurant. The crowd outside had died down considerably as well, though there were still pockets of groups meandering about the sidewalks aimlessly.
“So, I promise my friends are nice, but we’ve got one friend who’s kind of a weirdo,” Julian said as they walked together. “I’m sure you’ll like him though, he’s honestly one of the most hilarious people you’ll ever meet in your life.”
“Sounds like someone with some interesting stories.” Amelia shot him a challenging look. “I’ll bet you he’s nothing like my old high school friend.”
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it with this guy...”
She smiled. “Let’s hear it, then.”
***
Amelia.
A snowflake landed on her name as Finn stared down at the screen. It blurred the text a bit, melting into a little droplet that trickled down the surface. Funny how technology often got in the way of human connections, then went on to have its moments of utility. He exhaled lightly and slipped the device back into his pocket, glancing at the bar from the doorway of a nearby restaurant. This was their second time meeting on a holiday night, and the second time he’d effectively sent her on her
way to be alone—albeit less reproachfully this time.
Having thought about it, Finn realized it was almost troubling to see one person be so self-sufficient—even more so that someone might have Amelia’s reasons to be. Even angels couldn’t survive without the frequent company of others. Humans had their share of daily tribulations, but Amelia was an interesting product of the ones she had endured. Her soul was unmarred by dark temptations—no serious violations stained its light. It continued to bewilder him.
It was also remarkably unimpaired, for having worked so closely with someone like her father. Even in that environment, Amelia had visibly never turned to any substance, distraction, or violative habit that would’ve dimmed her light. More than that, there was a softness about her—a comfortable warmth that gave him a strange feeling when she wished him to be safe tonight.
Was it pity?
No...
Protectiveness, maybe?
No, that couldn’t be it either. The bond wouldn’t have exercised its influence in such a short amount of time; mere days had passed since it was instated.
Perhaps it was admiration.
Yes, that was it—a cursory admiration.
“So,” Alaric’s voice appeared from behind him. “Why didn’t you invite her?”
Finn looked back at him and shook his head. “Would’ve been a bad idea.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Finn slowed, making sure the group was well out of hearing range. “Her full name is Amelia Var Hart. She’s Ruben’s daughter.”
Alaric arched a brow. “Oh. You didn’t mention that before.” He looked out the window. “You know I tried to get a meeting with her once?”
“Yes, and she’s been avoiding Ruben for a while now. I didn’t know how she’d fare in our company since they’re all well acquainted.”
“Good call.” Alaric shot his friend a look. “Except that you know him, too.”
“Yes, well,” Finn shrugged, “she doesn’t seem to mind me.”
“You’re saying she likes you?”
“A little, at least.”
Alaric smiled. “Well, that’s a start.”
From where they were just up the street, Finn saw the glass doors of the bar swing open suddenly. “Wait.” He paused, staring at the pair that exited. Finn’s body tensed, his stomach clenching as he recognized Amelia leaving the bar. “What is she—?”
“What, what is it?” Alaric’s gaze swept in the same direction, finding the source of Finn’s engrossment. “Oh shit, is that a demon?”
“Fuck,” Finn hissed as he instinctively stepped out of the restaurant. If he were human, his eyes would’ve watered from the cold.
“Where are you going?” Alaric called out from behind him.
Finn paused, looking back. “Toward the situation, where else?”
“What are you going to do, walk up and tell him to piss off?”
“Maybe.” Finn tightened his lips.
Alaric scoffed. “Don’t be stupid. You can’t just go marching in, telling her not to hang out with some guy. She’ll never talk to you again.”
“Well, I know that. I’m not an idiot.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“There’s two of them. I’m going to handle the other end of it,” he answered calmly and set off on a weaving path through the groups of people.
Finn came up behind them on the sidewalk first, watching as Amelia nodded emphatically. She seemed enthralled by whatever tale the demon was spinning, and there was a plastic cup in her hand—a cup of water, it looked like—which was only half drunk.
He grimaced a bit at the aura pressing against hers—honestly, how could humans not sense it?—and the air about the demon was revolting. It made Finn’s blood run cold.
A layer of mud slid against the ground as he pivoted, changing his direction abruptly as he passed by another bar. Magic was streaming through him as he weaved through the crowd, the stench of the demon’s aura heightened now that he was aware of it. In the meantime, the magic threatened to rip straight out of his skin. He realized then that this was the bond, and it was unlike any other sensation he’d ever felt. If this unbridled urgency was its true nature, Finn understood why it made angels reckless.
Still, he couldn’t enter the Ether on a broad, open street, so he turned into the bar instead. And behind a corner staircase, there was a perfect little nook for slipping into it unseen. While the humid, stuffy air of the space did little for the headache that was building, the pain disappeared the moment he stepped into the Ether. His human form evaporated into the separate plane within half a second.
Waves of light and energy trailed behind him as he stalked through the walls. Here, the putrid glow of the demon’s aura was kept easily within his sights, and Amelia’s little light was dull in comparison. Moments later, Finn strode out on the other side of the building, far ahead of the pair. There were mercifully fewer people on the smaller road they’d taken. Though as he exited out onto the street, Finn kept within the bounds of the Ether.
There was only one way to do this—only one way to minimize Amelia’s exposure to the facets of the situation, as well as the demon’s. After all, knowing about Finn’s guardianship would spell trouble for everyone involved. He needed to be careful.
Perhaps it was a good thing that Amelia didn’t notice the shift—the striking change in the man’s demeanor—when Finn’s purposeful stride cut in front of them. His friendly, charming eyes abruptly shifted with savagery and confusion, snapping in the angel’s direction.
I know you see me, he mused to himself—disallowing an ounce of it to show in his calm expression.
The two of them were about to cross an alleyway. Meanwhile, the small groups of people surrounding them were all occupied with their own conversations, which was good.
Now, if only Amelia would look away...
Humans didn’t need much to miss things. Anything that grabbed their attention for an instant enough. There’d be a quick shift in the corner of their eye, and all they’d see was a fleeting shadow when they looked. Sometimes they wouldn’t even register that much. Finn almost considered knocking a garbage can to the ground across the street to draw her attention. Thankfully, that proved unnecessary when she turned to throw away her cup instead.
Now was his chance.
There was no time for the demon to react defensively when Finn’s hand flew to his neck, dragging him into the Ether. Time slowed between the realms, and the demon was gone before Amelia could look back. He tumbled down the alleyway between the buildings, where she would never see the confrontation taking place beside her.
Finn’s arm tingled a bit from the outburst of energy. He was a bit rusty. Years of evading his responsibilities had left him so, but he tried not to show it as he sauntered to the center of the alleyway. The demon rolled onto its back.
“What’s this?” it muttered with a twisted smile, which failed to hide his fear. “Who the hell are you?”
Finn replied in a balmy tone, “If you’d opened your eyes and looked around, you would’ve seen who you were attempting to influence a human in front of.”
“Influence?” the demon sneered sarcastically. “As if I don’t have anything better to do with my time.”
“You’re from Alastair’s district, aren’t you? I don’t recognize you.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“Finn Regis. And this is my district. Shits like you polluting my streets and killing my humans is very much my business, wouldn’t you say?”
The demon paled with realization. “You think I give a shit about killing your humans?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Finn lifted a hand to his chest, “did I stop you making a new friend?”
“I was just minding my own business.”
“And now you’re getting on my nerves,” Finn’s voice dropped low, “Leave. And don’t ever pursue Amelia agai�
�”
“Amelia?” the demon’s voice was a whisper, but the wonderment in his eyes was apparent. “You know her?”
Finn’s inadvertent pause was telling, and the two of them felt the coldness that settled in the air. The demon’s eyes jumped behind him—toward Amelia—and back. Even in his frazzled state, with the corner of his lip pulled downward with disgust, Finn knew what the demon was thinking. It was wondering whether he, the Dominion angel that occupied this district, had been tethered to a human whose soul he’d attempted to take.
Finn bit back the impulse to scowl—regretting that he revealed his name so readily. “Let me make myself clear,” he said as he strode forward. “I don’t care if it’s Amelia or some other human. I’ll kill you if I see this again.”
“Oh, how scary,” the demon sneered and scrambled backward on the ground. “Maybe you should kill me now, save yourself the trouble?”
“Is that part of the agreement I made with your boss? Rest assured, one outstretched hand to a human’s soul, and I will end you. You be sure to tell him that, as well—after all, why else would I let you go?”
The demon laughed, readying to spout more nonsense, but it was a false laugh—a fearful one. And Finn was getting tired of the charade. Honestly, did these creatures have any sense of self-preservation?
“Get out of my sight,” Finn said as he glared at him. The demon paused before disappearing into a cloud of black wisps. Finn watched them ripple around the edge of the building and into the night.
Finn looked back down, facing Amelia as she shifted in place, searching for her missing companion.
Pity filled him as he approached her from the alleyway. She couldn’t see him, naturally, so she wasn’t shy about letting her disappointment show. If someone spoke to her now, Finn suspected that none of her earlier sweetness would resonate in her voice.
She pulled out her phone, and the screen lit up. There was nothing there, but her dismay was apparent as she plopped her hand back down to her side.
“S’cuse me,” a grizzly voice appeared behind them both.
Finn looked back, stepping to the side as an older man approached Amelia—homeless, or perhaps on the verge of it. He had a bony, ragged appearance, and towered over her by at least a head. Amelia’s eyes shot up to him as well, brows rising as he tottered toward her. Her disappointment vanished, replaced by reluctance.