The Angel's Hunger (Masters of Maria)

by Holley Trent

“I do not look like that.”

  He cocked his chin.

  “I don’t. You know I didn’t lead that guy on, and even if I had, you really don’t have a hell of a lot of room to complain, do you?”

  She didn’t need to look down to guess that the thumps against the floor were him impatiently tapping his foot.

  Better than him cracking his knuckles.

  She shrugged and turned away. Not looking at him was easier when she wasn’t actually facing his direction. Striding to the stereo system, she said, “Guys like Blue Shapely are a dime a dozen, especially in Vegas. I learned to deal with them just like all the rest I had to figure out quickly. That’s a matter of personal safety for me. I can’t always pull a knife on people, especially not when I’m around a bunch of humans who aren’t familiar with how our kind handles conflicts. Sometimes, I have to work twice as hard to avoid confrontations because I know the fights aren’t resolved without violence.”

  She hit the play button on the CD Tamatsu had left in the machine and turned on the house’s built-in speakers. The speakers had been one of the few amenities in the house, other than the office, that made up for the poor location.

  “I assure you that I can handle a cocky Coyote.”

  Tamatsu huffed, dug into the pocket of his fitted slacks, and pulled out a little spiral notebook—the kind that probably came in ten-packs. From the other pocket, he withdrew a pen. He depressed the plunger, scribbled for a few moments, and then thrust the note to her.

  It’s disrespectful.

  “Pardon?”

  He added:

  You didn’t discourage him.

  “So?”

  Why not?

  Seriously?

  She shook her head and walked to the kitchen. The oddest things perturbed her angel. Even if Noelle were capable of being interested in a cocky son of a bitch like Blue—or anyone who wasn’t Tamatsu—she certainly wouldn’t have flirted with them within earshot of the angel.

  Tarik leaned with his palms pressed to the table, squinting at a map of Mexico City.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “One of the many ways I earn income is by locating things people fear they’ll never find again. This quest is strictly personal, however.”

  “What’s the lost object?”

  “A small stone idol. Lola lost it many years ago and can’t recall where, specifically, she might have been. Since the terrain has changed since the last time I was there, I need to reacquaint myself with the geography.”

  “Lola asked you to find it?”

  “No,” he said with a curious drawl. He picked up a red marker and drew a square around a body of water.

  “So, you’re volunteering?”

  He shrugged. Normally, he made the gesture look entirely too elegant, but that time, it seemed jerky. Bashful, even.

  Hmm. She tapped her chin. “The idol was important to her?” she asked.

  He glanced up from the map, golden eyes curiously lacking in their usual shimmer. He looked down again. “I wouldn’t say important. The relic is simply something she would appreciate having returned to her.”

  “How do you know about it?”

  “Being what I am, overhearing casual conversations is something of an occupational hazard.”

  “I imagine so.” She cut her gaze to Mr. Eavesdropping himself, Tamatsu.

  He was rolling his sleeves up his forearms, carefully folding the cuffs over. Perhaps he didn’t make a habit of wearing nice clothes, but he certainly knew how to.

  And so well.

  She tilted her head, staring openly and appreciatively at his heavenly physique while he wasn’t looking back. There was something unbelievably sexy about the way a good belt showed off the taper of the chest and accentuated one’s length.

  She used to adore counting the muscles on his belly. If memory served her correctly—and it did every now and then—he had a few more than the average man. He needed better core strength to keep himself balanced when he flew.

  Supposedly.

  She’d never actually seen him fly.

  “Where are your wings?” she murmured.

  She’d been talking to herself, really, and hadn’t expected either to answer—and obviously, Tamatsu couldn’t have—but Tarik straightened up and turned.

  “Here. Come closer.”

  She edged around the table and stood behind him, feeling something like a squirrel standing at the base of an ancient tree. Forgetting how massive they were was easy when there was some space between her and them.

  “Do you see where my shoulder blades protrude?”

  “Yes, but—” Noelle squinted. She saw blurs where there should have been clear lines. She closed her eyes and rolled them behind the lids to try to clear them. She couldn’t rub them. She was wearing too much mascara.

  “Your vision isn’t faltering. That’s the glamour. Come closer.”

  “If I get any closer to you, I’d be touching you.”

  “That’s the point.”

  “Oh.” She took another step closer and started reaching for his right shoulder blade. Before her palm could touch down, there was something in the way of it. Hard as steel, but downy. She dragged her knuckles along the invisible shape, and whispered, “Feathers.”

  The shape wasn’t invisible for long. His glamour gave way more the longer she touched. After ten or so seconds, she saw the top connecting joint of his massive black wing in her hand, and she could see then the slits he’d cut into his shirt.

  “My word.” She took a step back. The glamour didn’t return. She could still see the wings and the long slices in his shirt that accommodated them.

  “Now that you’ve breached the magic, you’ll always be able to see them.”

  “You mean anyone who touches you can do the same?”

  “No.” He turned, pulling his wings in tight behind him. Cringing. One moved a bit slower than the other. “There has to be some intent on my part, or else anyone who brushes against me could see what they shouldn’t be able to. Most people aren’t observant enough to notice that my size is greater than they can actually see. If they bump into me from the back, they usually don’t catch on to the fact other people saw them grazing what looked like air. They only know what they feel.”

  “And you just intended to let me break your glamour. Why?”

  “I trust you.”

  “Oh.”

  That was all she could say. The degree of trust he was granting her was humbling, to say the least. Creatures like him didn’t trust so easily.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He nodded and leaned over his map again, and slowly drew a small circle around some landmark.

  Tamatsu moved away from the doorframe he’d been holding up and leaned onto the edge of the table near Tarik.

  Tarik cut him a look.

  The two of them standing so close was almost too much for Noelle to bear. Her brain was processing the sight no better than a CD player played a disc with too many surface scratches. If brains could stutter, hers was.

  She closed her eyes, fearing she’d turn into a pillar of salt if she stared too long, and turned. When she was at the counter, peeking into the bags that contained grown-up food like cereal and bread, she said, “So, where’d you get the clothes?”

  Tarik chuckled. “Gulielmus has—or had, rather—a very good tailor.”

  “A tailor of an angel sort?” She plucked a green apple from one of the bags and buffed the peel on her shirt.

  “Yes. Some of us do have legitimate careers.”

  “That’s interesting. You should introduce her to Jenny. Jenny was the queen’s dressmaker.”

  “Him.”

  “Hmm?” Setting her teeth into the flesh of the apple, she turned.

  “Him,” he repeated. “The tailor identifies as male.”

  She completed the bite of her apple. It was crisp, and ripe, with the perfect amount of snap to the skin. Juice trickled down her chin, and she did
n’t care.

  So good.

  She’d forgotten that fruit was a glorious thing.

  Tamatsu was suddenly in front of her, hand extended as if to wipe the mess away, but he withdrew quickly.

  She realized then that he always withdrew. He hadn’t touched her in even the most casual of ways since they’d been reacquainted.

  “It’s okay, you know.” She grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at her chin. “I don’t carry any more germs than typical elves. You’re not going to waste away.”

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks, already disfiguring the sleek lines of them. He took a step back as if to drive the point home.

  “No need to be rude.” She laughed and walked with her apple to the table. “You don’t want to touch me. I understand.”

  It hurt, but she understood. They weren’t lovers anymore, or even friends. He was just waiting to get his voice, and she didn’t think her giving it back was going to fix them.

  “No, it’s you who doesn’t understand.” Tarik capped his marker.

  “Should I bother seeking an explanation? That rarely goes my way.”

  He looked up at Tamatsu. Tamatsu was looking squarely at Noelle.

  She didn’t know how long he stared at her in that intensely unsettling way, but she was transfixed. Glued to the floor. She felt enduring his stare was her punishment, and she deserved the discomfort she felt.

  Finally, he looked to Tarik and nodded briskly.

  “The issue isn’t want, but ability. He can’t touch you,” Tarik said.

  “Can’t? I don’t understand. We touched before.”

  “Yes, and he might argue he shouldn’t have touched you then. We all had afflictions when we Fell. Our vices haunt us every day we live on this earth. We’re made to suffer for the things that turned us from Grace. Tamatsu has … certain hungers.”

  Hungers?

  His gaze was on her fingers, wrapped around her half-eaten apple.

  “But, what has that to do with him being unable to touch me?”

  “There are many kinds of hunger, are there not? We can starve for different things, some of which are critical to our wellbeing. Others are … less so.”

  Pleasurable things, then.

  She understood what that was like. Her pleasures had been trifling ones for longer than she was able to remember. She wanted there to be no uncertainties, though, so she had to ask. “He can’t touch me because he’s … being punished?”

  “For his cravings. Yes, essentially. There are ways of controlling the hungers. There’s no cure for them, only maintenance.” Tarik narrowed his eyes and made a humming sound. “Perhaps abstinence is the only true escape.”

  “But we—” She furrowed her brow and set her apple on the table. “Back when we met, we—” She didn’t know how to delicately phrase such a thing or if the two angels openly shared details about their conquests. She’d never been the sort who’d kiss and tell. That wasn’t her style. “Is this a new decision? His abstinence?”

  “New since you fled Japan. Yes.”

  She’d never seen the man squirm before.

  “So even a minor touch could bother him?”

  “Yes.”

  “With anyone?” The idea of any random person being able to incite a host of cravings made Noelle ponder if his past attraction had been real.

  Tamatsu’s expression gave no clues of his status, but his gaze was keenly focused on her. He wasn’t running away from the revelations.

  “He can’t predict that and thus chooses to exercise an abundance of caution,” Tarik said.

  She had to sit. Tamatsu’s circumstance meant that he would never be able to really connect with anyone without sparking a vicious addiction. There was a chance he wouldn’t be able to be true.

  “Are you well?” Tarik asked.

  “I …” She pulled in another bracing breath and let it out in a sputter. “I mean, what am I supposed to think? I get one chance at having a tetherable mate, and the one I got can’t even touch me.” She laughed, and not because the situation was funny, but because her brain was overwhelmed and her body had to let out her panic in any way it could.

  She laughed so hard that her eyes began to water, and then from there, the real tears came. The last time she couldn’t stop herself from crying, she’d been running away from him.

  “What the hell did I do so wrong in my life to deserve that?”

  Tarik didn’t have an answer for her, just a handkerchief.

  Tamatsu left the room.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  She’d said a tetherable mate.

  Even after she’d gone to upstairs to bed, looking entirely too stricken, Tamatsu kept pondering what she’d said.

  A tetherable mate.

  He knew what that meant, of course. That was what Gulielmus was to Clarissa. Gulielmus may have been in the dark, but Clarissa would have known if what she was feeling was real, even if she chose not to act on the relationship.

  If Noelle truly believed that Tamatsu was the same to her, her behaviors were suddenly sensible. That didn’t mean they were kind, simply expected of an elf. She’d thought he’d disrespected what she was offering him, and he had. Even back then, he’d assumed that finding satiation with other lovers so quickly after connecting with her wouldn’t have earned him any medals for honor. Still, he’d assumed she’d be forgiving. After all, supernatural beings tended to be far more liberal with intimacy than others. They were practical, often to a fault. Emotions didn’t always come into play, but he’d felt something for her from the moment she’d opened her bag and handed him dried meat.

  She’d been a brash and bold creature, and she’d piqued his curiosity from the start. She’d stood out in a sea of faces because her stare was so unflinching and her smile so knowing. He’d wanted to know how she’d earned that smile, and he’d wanted to convince her to save her grins only for him.

  But he’d been hungry. Greedy, really. He hadn’t been able to exercise self-control because he’d been so out of practice and perhaps he hadn’t truly understood what infidelity was. He’d Fallen to experience human things, but he didn’t really understand relationships. Angels didn’t have them amongst themselves. They hadn’t been born of parents, but created.

  Of course, hundreds of years later, he understood perfectly well what infidelity was. It meant a lack of faithfulness, and that didn’t describe Tamatsu. His promises were unimpeachable. His word always true. He might have Fallen, but he honored his bonds. He honored the people who meant something to him, but he hadn’t honored her.

  He didn’t know how he could anymore, or if he could fix things.

  “I took her.”

  Tamatsu didn’t know how long Tarik had been standing in the doorway of Noelle’s living room. Normally, he would have immediately registered his friend’s arrival, but his mind was obviously on other things. He’d never let any lover distract him in such a way.

  She’s more than that. Not just a lover.

  Of course he was distracted. She was the perfectly unpredictable diversion who’d galloped into his monotonous life and made him believe that the next day and the one after would each be different. Noelle made days memorable.

  “She wanted to retrace her steps in Dewa and see what she might have done differently on that day than she had in the past,” Tarik said.

  Tamatsu gave a grave nod. If the errand had been fruitful, Noelle would have been there.

  “I wish I could help you more with the river. My talents may very well earn the both of us some new enemies by the time all is said and done, but I’ll do what I can to confuse the weather makers when the time comes. I’ve never tried to manipulate a deity, but perhaps they’re just like anyone else.”

  Tamatsu gave his friend a shallow bow. Of course Tarik would do what he could. Tamatsu didn’t have to ask him for help. Tarik freely gave it without expectation of recompense. That was why they were friends. Noelle’s similar generosity was likely why Tamatsu had be
en so vulnerable with her.

  She hadn’t wanted anything, really. Just him.

  For him to have supposedly been so old and so wise, he’d certainly been foolish.

  “I can’t offer you much assistance on your other predicament. I wish I could.” Tarik strode from the hall to the window at the front of the living room and parted the blinds a sliver. Staring out at the dark street, he added, “I told Tito many months ago that there’s a sort of ennui our kind experiences as years wear on. We feel as though our existence is devoid of meaning, and we often become reckless to combat the pointlessness. Perhaps we’re not conscious of what we’re doing. We go to such extreme lengths to remind ourselves that we’re here, living and breathing, even if we don’t have purposes.” He released the blinds. Turned.

  Knowing precisely what Tarik was describing, Tamatsu raised his chin, bidding him to continue.

  “Perhaps beings like us aren’t meant to have purposes until someone gives them to us.”

  Agreed.

  “My affection for a certain goddess should come as no surprise to you.”

  Tarik certainly wasn’t the most effusive of creatures, but Tamatsu know his friend well. He would have known better than anyone if some woman had finally managed to distract the stalwart angel. For millennia, he’d ignored such temptations.

  “Perhaps I haven’t stated to Lola in clear terms what she means to me, and I don’t know if I ever will. She’s more likely to reject than accept. She values her independence. Perhaps you’ll disagree, but I don’t believe your situation is quite as bleak.”

  Tamatsu started to shake his head, but Tarik put up his hands. “Hear me out. The difference between our situations is that in yours, both parties are aware and open to the possibilities, even if they seem unfathomable. Am I correct?”

  Tamatsu nodded slowly.

  “If you are open,” Tarik said, “then you should take steps to get what you want. First, you must decide what that thing is. Until you know that for sure, you can’t act.”

  Truth.

  “Do you know what you want?”

  Tamatsu grimaced and pointed to the ceiling. Her room was upstairs.

  “In what capacity?”