“I like watching the animals in their natural habitat.”
Oh.
Oh no he didn’t.
“Get out of my apartment, before I wake Gusion and he kicks your ass.”
Azriel laughed. “I can take the former Angel of the Fate.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Fine. Get out of here before I call Ace. She is not your biggest fan right now.”
This time Azriel blanched a little. I didn’t blame him, Ace in a rage was scary as, well, hell.
“I am sorry. I did not mean to offend you.”
I let out an unflattering noise. “Oh? Is calling someone a zoo animal some kind of angelic version of flirting?”
A flush lit his cheeks, and I raised my eyebrows. He was a disco ball of anger, confusion, and something I couldn’t quite label. I thought I had every emotion known to man catalogued, that I’d felt it all.
I needed to remember I wasn’t dealing with a man. I stared at the snowy white wings on his back to reinforce the thought. Azriel was the enemy. He wasn't one of Luc’s fallen. He had literally tried to kill me at birth. I should kick his ass out the door, and never let him back in. Call Ace like I threatened.
Instead, I poured half of my milk into a second mug, adding a drop of the rescued of vanilla. I stirred it gently.
“Why are you not asleep?” His voice was soft, losing its arrogance that grated against me so badly.
“Nightmares.” I handed him the mug, and he looked at it like it was a rattlesnake. I took a sip of mine, proving that I hadn’t poisoned it, though I wasn’t sure you could kill an angel with arsenic, or whatever people used to poison their husbands.
He took a sip, then looked into his mug as if there was a mystery at the bottom. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s warm milk,” I said slowly. “Oh, and there's a hint of vanilla.”
He rolled his eyes at me, and I resisted the urge to laugh at the human gesture on all that angelic perfection.
“I understand the beverage. I do not understand your nightmares.”
I moved toward the living room, away from the hall to the bedrooms. Azriel followed behind me, his wings held high and tight to his back. His perfectly porcelain skin should have made him look feminine, but instead her just looked unerringly majestic. Almost luminescent in the soft light of the living room. He shone with the soft glow of what I assumed was probably angelic light, but it seemed all a bit fluffy.
I settled onto the couch, but Azriel continued to stand. “Explain.”
I sighed. “Please.”
“What?”
“Explain, please. Good manners are not reserved for humans, especially when you want me to do something for you.”
His head tipped a little to the side, and then he nodded. But he didn't say please. That was a battle for another day.
“I have nightmares because I have post-traumatic stress disorder.” I winced saying it out loud. I know it shouldn't, but it made me feel weak.
“It is over, yet it still hurts you.” I nodded as he repeated my words back at me. The fact he listened to what I had said back in the hospital made me feel almost proud.
Azriel was silent as he contemplated my words, sipping occasionally at his warm milk. I tried to hide my smile. I let my thoughts drift to everything and nothing, to Memphis and our kiss, and Gus and his tragicness. To Blue, the Lost Boy. To Rella, and her crusade that was literally keeping me up at night.
“You have humans for that.”
Azriel’s voice startled me from thoughts. “What?”
“For your traumatic post stress disorder. You have humans that help with that.”
I thought about the welfare worker at the hospital and screwed up my nose. “I don’t do well with therapists.”
“There is no one you can talk to about this? Family? Friends? The Father?” His lip curled. “Lucifer?”
I couldn’t help it. I honked out a laugh before slapping a hand over my mouth, sucking in deep breaths. “Did you just suggest I talk to the Devil about my feelings?” The ridiculousness made me laugh harder, and Azriel’s disapproving face just compounded the problem.
“He is a kind of parental figure, is he not?” He sounded peevish now, and I did my best to rein in my giggles.
Clearing my throat, I took a deep breath, but the smile refused to leave my face. “Sure. But he’s the kind of family that you talk to about having someone killed, not to talk to about your feelings.” The idea was a little ridiculous really. Luc, and to a lesser degree Ace, were creatures of action, not emotion. They were the spirit of vengeance, the judge, jury and executioner for your immortal soul. Not someone to hold your hand and kiss your boo-boos.
“You have me for that now.”
Now it was my turn to look confused. “To have someone killed?” He looked at me like I was stupid, his lips pursed as he shook his head. “You mean to talk about my feelings with?”
He nodded me, and I held my breath in fear I would say the wrong thing. This was a fragile kind of connection. I had a feeling that what I said next would forever change the immortal creature in front of me. I wanted it to be for the better.
“I’d like that,” I said, even though the idea of sharing my deepest fears with an angel who had the emotional range of an eggplant seemed insane.
His lips twitched. “He wakens.” He looked longingly at the bedroom, and I felt the overwhelming wave of sadness from him. What had gone on with the Fallen and the Angel of Death that caused so much pain and anger on both sides? I looked toward the door, and Gusion stepped out, jeans slung low on his hips, gold dipped wings dragging on the ground like a sleepy child. When I turned back toward Azriel, he was gone.
8
“Get up.”
I looked away from my TV soap and at Gus.
“But Sophia is about to tell Stephan that she loves him, and that baby is really Slade’s,” I whined, and he gave me a disgusted look as he switched off the television.
“You aren’t sleeping.”
I said nothing, picking at my nails.
“You refuse to leave the apartment to even go to the office.”
Shame welled up in my chest, but still I said nothing. What could I say? That the idea of leaving the apartment fills me with dread?
“We are going to the movies. And then wherever else I feel like going, until we get back the confident woman that seems to have gone on hiatus.” He knelt down in front of me, forcing me to look at him. “I know you are scared, and the others might be happy to just let you wallow and wrap you in cotton wool to keep you safe. But they are suffocating your light. And I refuse to let that happen. So get some pants on,” he sighed heavily. “I didn’t think I’d ever say that to a beautiful woman, but this is what we are reduced to, me begging a woman to get dressed.”
He pulled me to my feet, and I grimaced at the sight of my pajama pants and my sweatshirt with a cute kitten on it.
“It's already one in the afternoon. Maybe we should go to the movies tomorrow.”
“No. Now go.” Gus pushed me toward my bedroom. “Fifteen minutes, and then I’m coming in to dress you myself. Actually, take your time,” he winked, and I blushed even as I rolled my eyes.
But I still hurried, I didn’t trust the Gus wouldn’t be good to his word. There was something dangerous and wild in his eyes today, and a little part of me that I didn’t know existed thrilled at the idea of being a little wild with him.
I threw on a pretty green sundress that skimmed mid-thigh and left my arms bare. It made my hair shine like burnished gold.
Sliding my feet into simple gold sandals, I was ready in fourteen minutes. I laughed when I walked out and saw Gus staring at our wall clock. He looked over his shoulder and pouted. “Dammit.” He grinned and it was like a punch to the chest. “Let’s go. I have plans to help you recover your inner BAMF.”
“BAMF?”
“Bad ass motherfucker. Grab your ID. And maybe a trench coat, because damn you look hot in that dr
ess.” He made an mmph noise and I laughed. His enthusiasm was infectious, but still, I hesitated at doorway. He took my hand and pulled me across the threshold and into his arms. I was acutely aware that I was pressed along the rigid length of his body, the hard muscles of his chest under my hands. “I’ve got you, Hope. I won’t let anything bad happen. Memphis would kill me, have Luc resurrect me, just so Ace could murder me again.” He tucked an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “Besides, I’m kind of fond of you when you aren’t watching crappy daytime television. Now, let's go.”
He must have called my car service while I was in the shower, because Reggie, my regular driver was waiting for us in the carpark.
“It’s good to see you, Miss.” Reggie’s emotions pulsed with sincerity, and I teared up. Then he looked at Gus, and sadness colored them blue. He thought Gus was JJ’s replacement. I felt guilty all over again that I’d never even gone to see JJ’s wife and kids. I’d just forgotten my friend in the wake of my own problems.
“Enough, Hope. Today is not a day for self-loathing and survivors guilt. Today is a day for reconnecting with your old self.” He nudged me through the car door, and slid in after me. Reggie drove out of the car park and into the mid-afternoon traffic with ease.
“Where to first?” I asked, smoothing down my dress. Gus’s eyes followed the motion.
He cleared his throat. “First stop is the movies. Nice and simple.”
The look in his eye made me wonder if anything he did was ever nice or simple. We sat in silence for the car ride to the local cinema, and as I slid from the car, I felt a little overdressed for the middle of the day on a Tuesday. The soccer moms and the old age pensioners were certainly casting me strange looks. Or maybe that was just the effect of Gus, with his long hair and overt masculinity. He was a bit of a contradiction to the average person.
We picked the latest rom-com over the action movie, and Gus got two large popcorns and drinks the size of a barrel. I didn’t know where he was getting his cash from, none of the Fallen worked in the traditional sense, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
As we slid into the back row of the cinema, Gus pulled a huge flask from waistband of his jeans. “Whiskey?”
“In here?” I hissed back, and he grinned. Yep, he was the poster boy for hell, alright. “I’m pretty sure it’s against the rules.”
But I grinned and popped the lid of my cup. He poured a very liberal amount in, and swirled it around with a straw.
I leaned in close, and tried to ignore how good Gus smelled. “Ten bucks says couple right down front are on their first date, but she feels guilty because she still loves her former lover,” I whispered.
He laughed but didn’t take my bet.
I pointed to the couple in the back-left corner, just opposite us. Gus half smiled as he joined in my game.
“Presently, they are here to have sex in the cinema, but eventually they will get married, have three kids and he’ll die at 54 of a heart attack.”
Ouch. Poor guy. Poor Gus. I couldn’t imagine knowing everyone’s end game.
“The couple down the front. Do they have a second date?”
The incredulous look on Gus’s face told me everything I needed to know. I pointed to a woman in the middle of the cinema. “She looks lonely, but I bet she’s just glad no one wants to sit beside her.” I could have told him I wasn’t guessing their backstories anymore. That I knew because I was an empathetic. But it wasn’t the right time.
I looked at the last person in the cinema. “That guy is… not good.”
Gus frowned too. “You are right. But he will never enact the fantasies he spends so much time creating, but it will be due to interruption, not lack of intention. He will go to jail, but not for very long.”
I sighed. It was times like this I wished that I was Rella, or Ace, or Lux or anyone other than soft, gentle Hope. Weak. That I could just walk up to the guy, and threaten him until he believed I would cause him irreparable bodily harm unless he changed his ways.
But I couldn’t. I could walk through a crowd, and feel everything from the most beautiful joy and the darkest malice, and I couldn’t affect any of it.
Sometimes, when I was feeling discontented, I used to walk up and down the George Washington Bridge, trying to make a difference, trying to be a hero. Now they put up bigger railings, which was good, but I felt redundant again.
The huge wave of lust made it clear that our row neighbors were getting to the climax of their movie. Gus grabbed a handful of popcorn and lobbed it over his head at the amorous pair. Their heads whipped toward us, well his head, hers was otherwise...occupied.
“Don’t look,” Gus laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pretending to be engrossed in the storyline of an average man who was in love with his adorably dorky but secretly a cover model neighbor, that was playing on the screen in front of us.
Gus leaned close so his lips were a breath from my ear. “Your turn. How about we spice up the first date down there?” He handed me the box of milk duds. “They’re further away. You’ll need long range ammunition.”
Sprinkling some of the duds in my hand, I took aim. And missed miserably.
“I can see why you work in an office, you aren’t about to be called up to play for the Sox.” Gus chuckled. “Try again.”
I closed one eye, and took aim. The screen lit up the dud like a beacon as it flew through the air, nailing the guy in the back of the head. I looked intently at the screen as the guy looked around at all the patrons of Cinema Number One.
“I think you fluked it. Ten bucks says you can’t do it again,” he murmured under his breath. Picking up another dud, I took him up on his bet. Closing my eye, trying to recreate the perfect trajectory, I threw again. And missed. On the plus side, I got his date and it ricocheted off her head and into his.
I turned to look at Gus, and his face was so close to mine that I could see the golden flecks in his eyes, the perfect cupid's bow of his lips. I could cut myself on the sharp line of his jaw. “That’s twenty bucks,” I whispered huskily, and his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“Oh?” He leaned forward. Shit. He was going to kiss me. And I wanted him to kiss me, I was almost sure of it.
“Uh huh,” I said intelligently.
“You’ll have to convince me.” The smooth temptation in his voice made me want to strip my clothes off in the cinema and make love to him right now.
His lips had hardly brushed against mine when I was blinded by the light of god.
Or maybe the flashlight of the cinema usher. I looked past him to the horny couple, who were giving us the stink eye.
“There’s been a complaint.”
I managed to look contrite at least until we left the cinema, when I doubled over with laughter. I laughed so hard my ribs hurt and I began to cough a little.
“Go easy, or you’ll bust something.”
I stood up and sucked in some deep breaths. “It’s your fault. I was enjoying that movie,” I said as we walked down the sidewalk, weaving in and out of people talking on their phone.
Gus scoffed. “You don’t even know what the movie was about. Don’t try and guilt trip me, Sweet Pea, I invented it.”
Squeezing in close to fit between two couples having a conversation in the middle of the sidewalk, I elbowed him in the ribs.
“I do so. It was about unlikely love.”
He cast a look at me from the side of his eye, but said nothing. He didn’t mention our almost kiss. “Okay, this way to the next stop the re-BAMF-ication of Hope,” he said, pulling me down a side street.
“I hate to break it to you, but I was never a badass to start with.”
Gus raised both eyebrows, but didn’t slow his stride. I was basically trotting to keep up now. “You have family dinners with Luc and Ace. You’re a badass whether you mean to be or not.”
I shrugged. I couldn’t argue with that.
We stopped. “Oh, no. No,” I said, looking at the sign on the front of the d
ark building in the side street. “I don’t think so.”
Gus grinned, and it made my heart stutter in my chest. So pretty. I found myself walking toward the entrance of the building, before I snapped out of it. “Don’t smile like that at me. You’ll give me a heart attack or something. I’m only human.”
“Are you, though?”
Why did people keep asking me that? Of course I was. I’d been nearly dead in a hospital bed a week ago. I just had a little extra oomph, as my dad, Sam, liked to say. I looked up at the sign that announced the shop as a tattoo parlor. I definitely had a thing about needles, and getting one jammed through my flesh repeatedly sounded like some kind of torture Luc would cook up in hell.
“Why not? Are you afraid?” He didn’t say it in a taunting way. He legitimately wanted to know if I was scared.
“A little,” I admitted.
He leaned a hip against the plate glass window of the parlor. “I can’t get tattoos. We heal too unnaturally and it would be gone in hours. But I have always been fascinated by the idea of taking something that god considered perfect, and making it more beautiful. Like he gave humans the ability to create art, but he denies them his most perfect canvas?”
He seemed genuinely perplexed, and it was selling me on the idea, dammit. “Okay. Something small. Tiny. Like a cow from an aeroplane small.”
“You want a tattoo of a cow jumping out of an aeroplane?”
I stared at him. “What?”
A smile curled his lips again, and I realized he was teasing me. Again.
I rolled my eyes and held back my own grin as I pushed through the doors. The doorbell tinkled, and the interior was delightfully quaint and even a little retro. The total antithesis of the huge tattooed man that walked through the curtain and up to the counter.
“Yeah?”
He eyed up Gus, then me, and convinced he could pulverize us both, went back to looking bored.
“I’d like a tattoo, if you have time? It’ll just be small.” The big guy stared at my face, and then at Gus.
The Fallen- Part One Page 6