Urban Mythic: Thirteen Novels of Adventure and Romance, featuring Norse and Greek Gods, Demons and Djinn, Angels, Fairies, Vampires, and Werewolves in the Modern World

by C. Gockel

  Gregory stared at me as if I’d gone insane. “Criminals? The wings don’t make them criminals, they are to convey that someone has paid for any crime they may have committed, that they are clean. They’re a forgiveness mark, a blessing, not a condemnation.”

  I was stunned. What incredible arrogance it was to deign to convey forgiveness on those they killed. I hated these fucking angels.

  “So those who violate every rule, every clause of the existence contract, they get forgiveness, too? Same blessing as an unborn baby? Because all of the executions bear that mark.”

  Not that I thought dead people gave a shit about some pompous asshole angel granting them forgiveness. What the fuck? No wonder we ditched these psychos for our own place. They were so full of themselves, it wasn’t even funny.

  “Yes, even the worst criminal deserves forgiveness. They’ve paid their dues with their death, and they should approach their afterlife with a clean slate.”

  I rolled my eyes. When I finally could resist it no longer and let my entire being scatter throughout the universe, I doubted if it gave a flying fuck whether some angel gave me the thumbs up or not. All were equal in death. Maybe that’s what he was saying though in his own full of shit way.

  “You’ll still cover it up. I know you will. You killed a cop, and you covered that up too. Fucking holier–than–thou hypocrites, all of you.”

  “I did a lot of things in anger that day that I’m not proud of, but I refuse to feel guilt for that death. I will never let you get away, never let you escape me, and the deaths of a million humans are an easy price to pay for that,” he said with determination, finally letting go of my hands.

  It was a little unsettling to know that he’d casually plow through a million human lives just to have the pleasure of killing me himself. And they say we are evil.

  “He’s one of yours,” I insisted. “Tell me honestly that you’ll kill him, that he’ll see justice, because I just don’t believe that’s going to happen.”

  “Althean will pay for what he’s done but you cannot kill him. The justice needs to come from our own kind, from someone with the proper authority to deliver judgment.”

  We stood there a moment as the bugs sang in the woods around us. I wasn’t sure I believed him. I suspected Althean would live for millions of years as they plowed through the red tape of who had jurisdiction and what laws pertained to this suspected offense. There was something else I wondered about though.

  “Those demons that you’ve killed, do they get wings too? Are they granted your forgiveness?” I asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear him say it.

  Even in the dim moonlight, I could see a bolt of pain cross Gregory’s face before it hardened into a rock like mask.

  “Demons are filthy creatures, abominations beyond redemption and forgiveness,” he said bitterly. “They don’t deserve forgiveness or mercy, either in life or in death.”

  I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. None of us want your blessing. None of us give a shit about your forgiveness. Like we even care. We return the same. You’ll get no mercy from us. No forgiveness, either.”

  I saw him wince at the last few words.

  “None of you has the capacity for mercy or forgiveness,” he said. He was furious, but at least he wasn’t glowing. “Your vibration pattern will continue to diminish, you’ll continue to devolve until the lowest worm has more divinity than you. You deserved to be banned from Aaru, to be banished for all eternity. You deserve to be killed on sight with no mercy. I should have killed you the moment I saw you. I should have killed you when you tried to escape me. I should just kill you right now.”

  That pronouncement should have had me on my knees, begging for that mercy he told me he’d never dish out. But I was pissed, so I taunted him the best way I could think of.

  “Then why did you do this instead of killing me? What is this you’ve done to us both?” I asked, running my finger up the underside of my arm and over the tattoo of his sword.

  Gregory jerked and clenched his fists. “That,” he said. “That is a terrible mistake.”

  I smiled to myself as he stalked away into the woods. Just what I had thought. He’d fucked up whatever he’d done to me somehow and what the mark did went both ways. If only I could find out exactly what it did and how to work it, I could do to him as he did to me. Whatever that was. Right now, I could turn him on. Funny as that was, I couldn’t see how it would work to my advantage in the long run. Hopefully, more useful applications would reveal themselves in the near future. Hopefully, before he killed me.

  I turned around to walk to the cabin and my smile faded. Candy and Wyatt had woken up to the booms of sound in the front yard as did many of those in the neighboring cabins. They’d all been an interested audience to the whole exchange. The neighbors must be particularly entertained to see a naked woman arguing with a clothed man in front of the cabin. I also had a depressed feeling that any chance I’d had of a continued relationship with Wyatt was vanishing by the moment.

  Chapter 17

  I woke up rather pleased that I’d managed to get through the last night without damage to my physical person. Candy announced she was making a breakfast and coffee run for us and pointedly left me alone with Wyatt. He sat on the bed and messed with his tablet while I walked around the cabin moving stuff around, and basically hovering. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I scooted up on the bed next to him.

  “Please talk to me?” I pleaded. “There is nothing going on between me and that angel. Nothing sexual, nothing romantic, not even remotely friendship. I’ve been trying to get away from him, and somehow that always ends up with me injured and usually naked. He seems to be less fired up about killing me the past few days, but I’ve pretty much run out of options. He’ll eventually kill me; I’m just trying to stall until I can think of something. There was a wild gate in the pool at that house. I tried to go through and he dragged me out of it. It was a good thing, actually, since I would have died in there. That’s how desperate I am, I went into some crazy wild gate with a million to one chance of coming out in one piece and somewhere reasonable. Because a million to one chance is still better than zero.”

  Wyatt paused a moment, then tossed his tablet aside and gathered me up in his arms. He was still shirtless with his pajama bottoms on and his skin felt glorious against my face and arms. Warm and smooth with his heartbeat against my cheek. He had muscle, but the muscle and flesh had a firm give to it, so unlike the hard rock of a chest I’d spent the last few days being crushed against. I snuggled against him like a puppy and breathed in the scent of his skin as Wyatt tightened his arms around me. It felt so good. I was actually considering giving the straightjacket of sleep another try tonight.

  “When he first came after you, I had a knight–in–shining–armor impulse.” He laughed. “Stupid, I know. A human can’t do anything against a being like him, and you are a thousand times stronger and more capable of protecting yourself than any woman I know. It’s horrible to stand back and watch you two go at it, though. It makes me feel worthless, that I’m not worthy of being your friend, let alone anything more. I’m so outclassed, and I’m not used to that. I’m used to being the big fish in the little pond. The one who can get any girl he wants, and could easy smack down any threat or competition. This situation has smashed that illusion to bits. Then every time I turn around you’re naked and pressed against him with his arms around you like something from a dime store romance.”

  I felt him twirl my hair in his fingers for a moment. “I’m making this whole situation about me and my feelings of inadequacy, when it should be about you. You’re the one fighting to survive, and I’m pouting about having a supreme being hone in on my woman. I’m sorry, Sam. I’m a selfish jerk. I should be helping you and not having a pity party, here.”

  I pulled away a bit to look him in the face, and put a hand on his cheek.

  “I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you, Wyatt. You fucking shot him. Point blank, in the h
ead, with that huge gun of yours. I know it didn’t kill him like you intended, but it distracted him. If you hadn’t done that, he would have lopped my fool head off right then and there. I was practically wetting my pants, and you had the balls to shoot an angel. You are a big fish in my book. You’re clever, fun, hot beyond belief, and you’re my go–to guy when the shit hits the fan.” That was super hokey, but it was true. And to make my point, I leaned over and kissed him.

  Kissing Wyatt has to be one of my favorite things ever. It’s soft, then it’s firm, then he runs his tongue over my bottom lip, then I run my tongue around the inside of his mouth, then he bites my lower lip, then I suck on his tongue. He dug his hands through my hair and gripped, like he thought I was going to run off if he didn’t hold me in place. We made out slowly and thoroughly as if we had all the time in the world. Things were heating up to the point where it was hard to keep activity confined to mouth only. Wyatt let go his grip on my hair to yank my shirt off, and expertly remove my bra.

  Now we were both bare–chested. I claimed his mouth with mine again and rubbed my breasts against him, happy for additional skin to skin contact. He rubbed a thumb over my nipple, sending a hot pulling sensation down between my legs. I could feel his hard length just a few thin layers of clothes away as I sat on him. How fast could we move this along, I wondered? If we hurried, we could both be sweaty and spent by the time Candy returned with the coffee. Wyatt bent his head down and ran his tongue over the other nipple, pulling it with his teeth. Fiery sensation washed over me, and I closed my eyes. Coherent thought was impossible and I reveled in the feelings flooding through me. I wanted to get his pants off, but couldn’t figure out the logistics of removing them while keeping his mouth on my breasts. If only his pants would remove themselves.

  Through the fog of my desire, I heard the door open and a loud “Arrrrrr!”

  “Go away, Candy,” I said firmly. She sounded like she’d walked in to find dog crap on the floor.

  “I left you two to talk and make up, not to engage in sexual relations on the only bed in the place.” She complained, showing no signs of leaving.

  “Please?” I begged, although Wyatt had already stopped his wonderful exploration of my body and was lying back on the bed taking deep breaths.

  Candy took her time getting a donut, and adding cream and sugar to her coffee. “I’m taking my breakfast outside, because it stinks in here, now,” she announced, banging the door on her way out.

  I threw myself down on Wyatt and scattered frantic kisses up his shoulder. “Oh, let’s go for it,” I said breathlessly. “You’re ready, I’m ready. I’m so ready. You have no idea how ready I am.”

  I felt the rumble of his laughter against my chest. “I get the feeling that you’re always ready, Sam,” he said, rolling me over so he lay on top of me. In spite of the promising position, I had a feeling that our opportunity had passed. He gave me a glorious kiss as I ran my nails down his back, then rolled off the bed announcing that he was going to take a cold shower.

  “You’re killing me, Wyatt,” I told him as he grabbed a towel and supplies to head to the communal bathhouse in the campground. “You’ll come back and find me shriveled to dust in some female version of blue balls.”

  “Oh, the drama,” he teased, heading out the door. I hopped up and put on my shirt, draping my bra across Candy’s couch just to piss her off, then went to dig through the donuts. Things felt very right with the world again. I grabbed a chocolate cream and went outside, not finding Candy on the porch or in the front clearing.

  I just can’t seem to leave well enough alone, so I went ahead and sent out a search for Gregory. Casting in a radius around the cabin, I found him surprisingly close. Just around back by the woodpile. So of course I crept around back to see him. Because after making up with my hopefully–soon–to–be boyfriend, it seemed like a smart thing to seek out the homicidal maniac that wanted to kill me and was causing all the trouble with said hopefully–soon–to–be boyfriend. I hoped it took Wyatt a good long time to cold shower his genitals back to a relaxed state, because if he returned to find me behind the woodpile with Gregory, things were not going to be pretty between us.

  As I snuck along the side of the cabin, I heard voices and realized that Candy and Gregory were talking. Well, at least Candy was talking.

  “She’s distracting you with her antics. You would have caught this guy days ago, if you weren’t having to chase her down. You can find her any time you want, just let her go. Let her go home. Even if she slips through a gate, no one knows you’ve seen her except me and Wyatt. We’re not saying anything. Althean will be out of the picture, and he’s crazy. Even if he says there was a demon, no one would believe him. She’s served a purpose, give her a pass. Let her go.”

  “No”

  Well, that was short and to the point.

  “She’s crazy, she’s clearly got some death wish. She’ll be back across in a couple of years and you can grab her then. No one back at her place would seriously believe her escaping you. They’d think she was full of it.”

  “No. I’ve marked her. Permanently. I’m not letting her go.”

  Crap. So much for ever getting this damned tattoo off my arm.

  “She’s living as a human. She has friends, business associates. Humans depend on her. Just let her go on with a human life, then. Take her powers away or something so you feel she won’t be a danger to anyone, and just let her be.”

  Take my powers away? Could he even do that? That would be like blinding someone, or ripping out their tongue. I didn’t like the sound of that at all. I think I’d rather he kill me.

  “No. End of discussion. I’m going to watch the house. I’ll be back.”

  I scurried silently back around the house to sit on the front porch and drink my cooling coffee. I was grateful for Candy’s efforts, but it didn’t look like this angel was ever going to let me go unless it was as a dead pile of sand. Probably not even then. I could see him sticking the sand in an urn and putting it somewhere unpleasant just to spite me beyond the veil of death.

  I know it wasn’t productive to keep harping on my impending death like this, but it somehow kept diminishing in my mind, as if it were truly only a remote possibility. It wasn’t. It was real, and I needed to keep remembering in order to stay focused on trying to get away. I wanted to hang around this angel, to be near him when I should be trying to be as far away as possible. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me. Maybe if I chanted it, I would focus on survival and not on wondering what he was doing right now.

  We muddled around the cabin for the morning. Candy had the forethought to bring a paperback to read. I was going stir crazy and my death chant wasn’t having much of an effect, so I announced that I was going to buy some more clothes to replenish all the ones I’d ruined so far. Wyatt offered to come with me, but I told him I needed some alone time. In reality, I was going to do something stupid. Fuck, my impulse control was becoming worse than Boomer’s. I was crazy and clearly did have a death wish.

  I found the nearest Walmart and blindly threw some jeans, sweat pants, and t–shirts into the shopping cart. Then I found a liquor store. It wasn’t easy. They aren’t usually open in the morning. All the higher end ones were closed for hours, but I did manage to find a seedy little liquor store with metal bars over all the windows and doors that had proudly opened at eight AM. And if that wasn’t testimony enough to their target demographic, their alcoholic offerings clearly were. The only vodka they had was Gilbey’s.

  I’ll admit I’m a vodka snob, but I have nothing against Gilbey’s. It burns like Liquid Plumber going down, and you get drunk faster than you can snap your fingers, but at least it’s honest. Some of that high end stuff in the fancy bottles was just as brutal and cost five times as much. Still, I’m not drinking it. I’m not that desperate.

  The regular clientele of this liquor store clearly were that desperate though. There was a whole wall dedicated to various whiskeys. Not a craft bee
r in the place, although I was pleased to see they at least had Bud Light. It was a bit dusty and behind stacked boxes of Busch advertised for $9.99 a case in huge blue numbers. The wine selection was just as dismal. Lots of Boones Farm and sweet fruity wines. I wondered what angels drank. I hadn’t seen Gregory eat or drink anything, so maybe that was all part of their abstinence routine. The elves drank wine nonstop. I don’t think I ever saw one without a goblet in his hand. Angels loved their elves, so maybe they drank wine, too? I doubted they drank Jack Daniels. I strolled around the store in indecision while the clerk looked at me nervously. I’m sure their usual customers were in and out in five minutes flat, while I looked like I was making the decision of my lifetime.

  Finally, I grabbed a bottle of blackberry merlot that looked somewhat less rot–gut than the other wines, and paid the clerk the ridiculously cheap price. I just wasn’t going to be able to find a decent bottle of anything in Waynesboro at this hour. Maybe it would be the thought that counted.

  I drove out to the McMansion, parked my Corvette a block away, quickly locating Gregory. And there I sat for half an hour, almost turning around. Starting the car. Turning off the car. Banging my head on the steering wheel. What the fuck was I doing? Idiot. Should I do it? Should I just go back to the cabin? Maybe I should sit here and drink this nasty wine myself. Finally I got out of the car and made my way as stealthily as I could over to him feeling like the dumbest ass in the whole world.

  “Hey,” I said. He ignored me.

  “Got any bites yet?” I asked, as if he were fishing. “I wonder if he’ll make a move today after what went down last night. I walloped him pretty good; you might be here for a long time.”

  Silence.

  “Sitting here staring at a house is really boring, so I brought some wine. I think it tastes like crap, but the elves like it, so I thought you might, too. Actually, I don’t think the elves drink this particular wine. In fact, I’m sure they’d think it was crap too, but there isn’t much to choose from in Waynesboro at this hour. See, I brought a corkscrew and some little plastic glasses. I’ll open it right here in front of you so you know I’m not trying to poison you or anything.”