ForsakingEternity

by Voirey Linger

  Adam didn’t know what distracted him. A glint of light that shouldn’t be there, a whisper of sound so faint he couldn’t even be sure he heard it. Ren stepped in the booth to study a table of Christmas decorations but Adam stood rooted, unable to move away from the beguiling call of…

  What was it?

  Something in the back corner drew him. A gleam, or maybe a whisper. He couldn’t say for sure when he moved, when he left Ren, but he found himself in the corner, surrounded by a mismatched collection of items.

  There, on a low shelf, behind an old toy truck, another out of place reflection.

  Moving to the shelf, he knelt. Whispers grew inside his head, hints of words he should know. They all seemed to be coming from the box.

  He reached for it, and the voices fell silent.

  * * * * *

  Adam found the scroll.

  The shock reverberated in Ren’s soul and for one brief moment, the Earthly plane seemed to grind to a halt. The air thickened, pulling him into the stillness, muffling the noises of human life around him. He fought the tug of that stillness, forced his head to turn toward the corner where Adam stood.

  The item in Adam’s hands seemed to shine from within, its holy light flooding the corner with a blinding glow. There, by the ceiling, he caught a hint of movement, something shifting too fast for this strange, distorted view of Earth. A creature clung to the wall, its skin coated with inky scales and the red shine of hellfire in its eyes.

  Meela.

  She grinned in triumph, flickering her forked tongue over wicked fangs, before her image shimmered and vanished into the shadows. The light from the box swallowed the darkness and Ren had the strange sensation of being pulled back, sucked through a hole in the fiber of the Earthly Plane.

  With a strange pop, everything returned to normal.

  “Look what I found!” Adam called across the store. He held a silver box in his hand and his expression was filled with excitement.

  You found my destiny, my downfall.

  “Let me pay for these and we can stop by the coffee shop for lunch,” Adam said, making his way to the front counter. “We can sit outside. We’ll be able to see this box better in the light.”

  “It’s raining.”

  Adam stopped and looked out the front window, a wrinkle of confusion marring his brow. Those who had crowded the café were scattering, running to escape the downpour.”That’s odd. It was sunny just a few minutes ago and the forecast said there shouldn’t be a cloud in the sky today.”

  “Man cannot fully predict the weather, can he?” Especially when a demon lurked nearby. Although he could not see her, Ren could sense Meela. She did not even try to hide her presence from him.

  She could only be waiting on the scroll and the sins it would reveal. The only question was, did she come for him, or for Adam? After being deprived of Maggie’s soul, would Hell demand Adam in recompense?

  “I’d thought we could stop there for lunch, but maybe we can grab something to go. We can go to my office to eat and check out this box. I might have a small back office, but it has a big window and great light.” Adam smiled and Ren felt a strange tug in his chest, a tug he hadn’t felt in nearly seven thousand years. Not since Michani died.

  Thoughts of his daughter stole his breath. His beautiful, loving child. A wound he thought long healed tore open inside him.

  “Renatus?”

  Ren turned to Adam and blinked to clear his vision. Tears. He was crying. Ren had thought himself long past mourning, but here he stood, tears streaming down his face and his throat knotted with pain.

  “I am sorry, Adam. I was caught unawares.”

  “By what?”

  “Beautiful memories.” Memories that brought with them reminders of loss.

  He took a deep breath and looked around at the handful of other shoppers. He straightened his back and fought to push back his emotions. The raw pain had him feeling too exposed, too visible. “Let’s get our food and retire to your office. I’d rather not be surrounded by others at this moment.”

  “You go ahead. I’ll be out as soon as I pay for these.” Adam said, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to Ren.

  He stared bemusedly at the folded white cloth for a moment. Such an old-fashioned human custom, and yet carrying a handkerchief was so perfectly Adam. Ren found a quiet niche by the door and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

  Breathing in, he was taken by the scent of the cloth. The scent of Adam.

  A flush of heat washed over Ren. This cloth had been in Adam’s pocket, nestled close to his body. He breathed in the scent again, an illicit extravagance when the enemy circled so close.

  He was reminded once more that time was running short. If he was to give in to this temptation, give in to Adam, it must happen this night. Tomorrow he must return the scroll to the Heavenly Plane, and the Law of Men and Angels would once more be enforced by the Most High.

  Tonight, Adam would be an indulgence.

  Tomorrow, he could well be a sin.

  “Are you ready?” Ren looked up, startled. Adam stood before him, concern lining his face. Ren took one last breath, one last scenting of the handkerchief, before tucking it in his own pocket. For the first time since his arrival on the Earthly Plane, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. He wanted this man, and for one night only he could have him.

  His path was finally clear.

  “Yes, Adam. I am ready.”

  * * * * *

  They sat at his desk in silence, eating sandwiches and sipping sodas from cans. Adam didn’t taste any of it, too haunted by the pain he’d seen in Ren’s eyes.

  “Can I ask about it?” he finally asked, caution coloring his tone.

  “Ask about what?” Ren set his sandwich down on its wrapper and gingerly wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.

  “Whatever it was that had you so upset in the store.”

  Ren leaned back, the sadness once more in his eyes.

  “I was thinking of Michani, my daughter.”

  His daughter. The words hit Adam like a punch in the gut.

  Ren was a father. He’d said there was no wife or girlfriend waiting but Adam had never asked about children. Ren had a whole life elsewhere. One which didn’t include an ancient language professor from a small New England college.

  At the same time Adam was reminded of what he’d given up. He’d long ago come to terms with the fact he’d never have the idealized image of family. He could have adopted, had explored the option, but a single gay man wasn’t considered the best potential parent. No, Adam would never be a father. Nor would his mother ever hold a grandchild, a point of contention between them.

  “Do you see her often?” he asked cautiously, not sure he wanted to hear about Ren’s devotion to a child who lived somewhere else, a devotion which would make any future with Adam impossible. A devotion he would never experience for himself.

  “I do not ever see her. She is dead.”

  Adam’s jealousy soured to guilt and his heart ached for the gentle man sitting before him.

  “I’m sorry.” Sorry for Ren’s loss. Sorry for resenting the love he had for his child.

  Sorry was such a trite word. But it was the only word he had.

  “It happened long ago.” Ren shrugged, but his eyes were still troubled.

  “But it still hurts.”

  “Yes. It still hurts.” Ren stood and moved to the window, his profile lit with the subdued light of the cloudy day. He didn’t look out over the commons, as Adam often did. His eyes were fixed instead on the heavens.

  “How old was she?”

  “She was seven when she was killed. Her mother was from a small village. A kind woman. She was a good mother. Some men from a nearby village heard about Michani and a few others like her. They attacked and dragged the children into the center of the village. Killed them there while their mothers wept and screamed for divine intervention. None ever came.”

  Ren relayed the story so calmly,
his tone so matter-of-fact, and yet the scene he painted was so gruesome, Adam didn’t want to believe it was real.

  “You weren’t there.” Please say you weren’t there.

  “I arrived too late to save the children. My daughter died in my arms.”

  Bile rose in Adam’s throat. He couldn’t imagine the horror of watching one’s child die. He pushed his sandwich away. “And the killers?”

  “They never left the village.” Ren’s tone was flat and edged with steel, the gentleness that was so a part of him gone.

  A chill rippled over Adam’s skin. Renatus had killed.

  Renatus turned to face him, and Adam couldn’t move, struck by Ren’s beauty and the hint of savagery he hadn’t seen before.

  “But as I said, it happened long ago. The pain has long faded into the sands of time. Sometimes those sands shift and expose it, but they will shift again and all will be as it was.”

  He left the window to return to the desk.

  “I do not wish to discuss my daughter anymore.”

  “Then why don’t we take a look at the box from the antique store.” Adam pulled the box out of the bag and placed it in the center of the desk.

  Ren grimaced, staring at the box as if it were a snake ready to strike.

  “You aren’t interested?”

  “Actually, you might say I have a vested interest in it. Just not one I’m anxious to explore.” With a resigned sigh Ren scooted his chair closer to the desk and leaned in to examine the markings.

  Ren didn’t appear to want to share more than that so Adam let the comment go for the moment. He leaned in over the box, mimicking the other man’s pose, but instead of studying its markings, he studied Ren. He thought he had the other man figured out, had pigeonholed him as one of those men who were repressed, scared of their sexuality.

  A coward.

  The man sitting across from him was no coward. Cautious and uncertain, but not afraid. And he wasn’t the gentle and meek person Adam had assumed, either.

  They never left the village.

  A gut-deep shiver ran through Adam.

  Ren was right. The truth did ring through one’s soul.

  “What do you think?”

  The question jarred Adam from his musings. The box. Ren was asking about the box. He studied the engravings. He could recognize some characters but they didn’t seem to form words.

  Did they just move? He couldn’t actually see movement but the words seemed to shift, to change the moment he wasn’t looking directly at them.

  “There appears to be something written on it.” He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a magnifying glass. It didn’t make sense. He could make out the characters clearly, and yet despite his fluency in the language, he couldn’t decipher the words.

  “I can’t read it.” He set the glass on the desk and sat back in disgust. He should have been able to pick out at least a bit of it. It was legitimate writing, he could discern that much, but for some reason the meaning eluded him.

  “Hmm.”

  Ren’s non-committal tone caught his attention. Ren knew languages, probably better than Adam.

  “You can read it, can’t you?”

  “Yes.” Ren turned the box and continued reading.

  “So?”

  “So what?” Ren asked, finally looking up at Adam in confusion.

  “So what does it say?”

  “Oh. It is a listing of the blessings and the curses. They are quite extensive.” Ren angled the box once more and continued to read.

  Blessings and curses? He ought to know what that meant. Adam frowned. Leaning back in his chair, he stared at the box, racking his brain for the context.

  “It’s a covenant box.” The reciting of blessings and curses was part of the covenant ceremony. But covenants were a thing of history, and this box wasn’t ancient. He leaned in and picked up the magnifying glass once more. The engraved characters seemed to shift, avoiding his attempts to translate them.

  “I can see the Hebrew characters clearly. Why don’t they make sense?” He threw the magnifying glass in the drawer, frustrated.

  “You read it as Hebrew? How interesting.” Ren sat back and stared at him, and Adam shifted under his scrutiny.

  “Yes, I can read Hebrew. I’m a Jew and an ancient language scholar, so that shouldn’t be surprising. What I don’t understand is why I can’t read this Hebrew.”

  “That it’s Hebrew at all is what is interesting.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Adam blew out a frustrated breath. Ren’s reaction to this box was just weird.

  Ren didn’t answer as he stood and stretched. “I’ve seen enough of this for tonight. We can look at it some more tomorrow. Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Six

  Ren stood in the doorway, his teeth clenched tight together and his feet refusing to move. He shoved his hands even harder into the pockets of his coat until the seams strained and the corduroy creaked.

  “Are you coming in?” Adam asked, dropping his keys in the bowl on the entry table.

  Ren could only give a jerky nod. His heart beat loud and fast and the sound of it threatened to drown out rational thought.

  This must be what nervousness felt like.

  “Is this what you want, Ren?” Adam finally asked. He took a small step but then stopped, as if afraid to come any closer. Did he know? Could he sense the weight of this choice, feel the danger?

  Ren closed his eyes, his mind filled with the words from the covenant box.

  Eternal damnation to those who violate…

  We shall smite those who violate…

  Sending the soul of evil men unto Hell…

  The Law of Men and Angels is absolute…

  Ren opened his eyes. Adam stood, waiting, his expression stiff but hope filled his eyes. This would be his only chance to lie with this human. The scroll had been found, and once the Word was read into Law, loving Adam would not be possible.

  Taking a deep breath, Ren stepped inside and closed the door.

  “I do not know what to do,” he admitted. His face went hot and his hands trembled.

  “What do you want to do?” Adam stepped back and leaned against the wall. He kept his hands at the small of his back, not reaching, not touching. Leaving the burden of choice completely on the one who understood the consequences. Renatus.

  I want to flee to the safety of Heaven. I want you to forget you ever saw me, live a happy and full life without the danger I bring.

  But he hadn’t returned the scroll yet. The Law was not being upheld tonight.

  “I want to kiss.” Such a little thing, a kiss. Surely there was no sin in something so simple.

  Ren balled his hands into fists and pressed them hard against the bottoms of the coat pockets. The muscles of his upper arms and chest strained and the thick corduroy creaked again in protest.

  “Come in and hang up your jacket,” Adam urged, tipping his head to indicate the row of hooks lining the wall beside him.

  Ren forced his heavy feet to move, to step into the house so he could shut the door behind him. He shrugged out of the coat and leaned past Adam to hang it up. For one heart-stopping moment, he could feel the heat of Adam’s body, the brush of their clothing. Flustered, Ren started to step away.

  Adam’s hand touched Ren’s waist. It was the barest of contacts, so light Ren almost couldn’t feel it, but it held him and pinned him there. They were close, so very close. Their eyes met and Ren swayed in, helpless to resist the lure of this human.

  “Kiss me.” Adam tipped his head back against the wall. He didn’t move, didn’t make any attempt to kiss or hold. He was letting Ren set the pace, a significant reassurance for an angel floundering so far out of his depth.

  The temptation became more than Ren could resist, and he shifted, leaning in closer, dipping his head just a little. He hesitated, his lips so close he could feel Adam’s shallow, panting breath, could taste him on those fine wisps of air.

  Ren brushed his
lips against the corner of that tempting mouth and Adam sighed at the light contact.

  Ren pulled back, unsure of what to do next.

  Adam’s hand drifted up from Ren’s waist, barely touching as it eased over his abdomen and chest. He cupped Ren’s jaw, the heat of his palm soaking into Ren, warming him in ways he never imagined possible.

  “Kiss me again, Ren. Kiss me for real.”

  The plea was irresistible. Ren bent again, covering Adam’s mouth with his own. Adam’s head angled, giving him access, and Ren took advantage. Their tongues met, tangled and hesitancy vanished. Ren could feel his power rising, flowing between them in a smooth wave of golden heat. It flared and arousal spiked.

  Adam groaned under his mouth. Shifting, he spread his feet until Ren stood between them. A tug on Ren’s belt pulled his hips until they were cradled by Adam’s body. He rocked against Adam, let the drag of denim against denim tease and taunt.

  Still, Adam made no move beyond that one hand on his jaw and the other at his belt. The kiss was slow. Hot, and languorous. A gentle exploration of taste and texture as opposed to the fevered rush of the night before.

  Kissing a male was…different. The textures a blend of rough and silky-smooth, the body harder yet so exquisitely vulnerable. He wanted more. What would that hard body feel like in his hand, or against his own with no fabric between them to stifle the sensations?

  He let one tentative hand drift between them and cupped Adam through the thick fabric.

  Adam tore his mouth away from Ren’s with a strangled curse.

  Ren jerked his hand away. “I…I am sorry. Did I do it wrong?”

  “Oh, fuck no. You did it just right. Do it again.” Adam grabbed his wrist in a bruising grip and pushed Ren’s hand back between them. “I want you to touch me more. Touch me how you like to be touched.”

  Ren hesitated, then he tugged on the waistband, pulling the snap open. Easing the zipper down, he slipped his hand inside the open placket and cupped Adam through the soft cotton of his briefs. This time he watched Adam’s face, fascinated by the raw pleasure there. As his hand explored, Adam’s jaw flexed, relaxing one minute as his mouth opened with a sigh, then bunching as his teeth ground audibly. The hand at Ren’s waist grew demanding, pulling them harder against one another as Adam’s hips began to rock. The slight space between them vanished and Ren could do no more than press his hand against Adam’s cock and let him move.