Lucian Divine

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Lucian Divine Page 16

by Renee Carlino


  On a Tuesday, Brooklyn came down to the warehouse and flaunted a giant diamond. Evey just stared at it in shock.

  “Congrats,” I said from behind Brooklyn. “Who’s the lucky guy?” Poor fool.

  “Oh my God, you work here now too?” Brooklyn said. “You guys really can’t be away from each other for more than a minute.”

  She had no idea. Evey didn’t respond, and I didn’t want to explain.

  “So who is he?” I asked again.

  “Keith,” Evey answered for Brooklyn.

  I pointed at Evey, “Keith, as in the Keith you went out with?”

  “Yes. Although he wasn’t really himself that night, so I didn’t get to know him at all.” Evey rolled her eyes at me.

  “You’re marrying that guy?” I said.

  “Lucian,” Evey chided.

  “What’s it to you, weirdo?” Brooklyn asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Congrats, weirdo.” I was done being a jerk to Brooke. She didn’t deserve it.

  I turned and walked away, but I could still hear Evey talking. They started planning Brooklyn’s wedding right then and there. Brooklyn had gone from not wanting to go on two dates with the same person to getting hitched. Maybe Evey had more of an influence on her than I had thought.

  While the two girls were talking wedding details, I went to the back of the warehouse to break down boxes. I noticed a huge pile of jeans in a tote sitting next to the dumpster. They were Evey’s designs.

  I grabbed the jeans, went inside, and marched up to Tracey. “You’re throwing these out?”

  “They’re terrible,” she said distractedly while she flipped through a magazine.

  “I think they’re great.”

  She set the magazine down and looked at me. “You think everything she does is great.”

  “That’s not true. I hate when she whines. She also leaves the refrigerator open and the lights on.” I actually didn’t care about any of that. “But these are jeans are great, and you know it. She was willing to put your name on them. What, you have too much pride to let her designs take off? You know they will.”

  “They’re just jeans,” she said.

  “Fine, then we’ll take them. No sense in throwing out perfectly good denim.”

  “It’s my denim, and if I want to throw it out, then I will.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No.” She returned her focus to the magazine and flipped through the pages again.

  “I’ve always been respectful toward you, Tracey—”

  “I don’t give a shit.”

  Tracey was truly a piece of work. I used to be able to charm women, but I didn’t seem to have that effect on Tracey anymore. Actually, I didn’t seem to have that effect on anyone anymore.

  I set the jeans under a folding table and found Evey saying good-bye to Brooklyn outside.

  Brooklyn smiled but held up her middle finger at me as she drove away.

  “Can you be nice, Lucian?” Evey pleaded.

  “I’m trying to be nice to Brooke. Tracey on the other hand, no, I can’t be nice to her. Listen…” I held her shoulders. “Look at me. Look into my eyes.”

  She laughed. “What is up with you?”

  “Do I look different?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean. Am I less attractive than when you met me?”

  Her expression softened; she stopped laughing. “Aside from the fact that you’re thinner and your hair is a little longer, you look exactly the same.” She cupped my face. “You’re ridiculously handsome, Lucian.”

  “You’re the only one who thinks so.”

  “Are you being vain or insecure? It’s hard to tell.”

  I kissed her slowly, softly. I felt her honesty in the kiss, and it didn’t matter what anyone else thought of me.

  She whispered, “You’re learning to be human.”

  I whispered back, “Tracey is a bitch.”

  “We established that a long time ago…

  I rested my head on her shoulder. “She tried to throw away your jeans.”

  Evey jerked her head back. “Really? Why?”

  “I don’t know. Jealous, I guess. Let’s just take them. We’ll get you a place and start your own brand.”

  “Our own brand,” she said. “Eves is kind of already taken.”

  I laughed. “We’ll think of a name.”

  “How about Divine?” .

  “It’s perfect.” I kissed her nose. “Let’s go tell Tracey off.”

  Evey walked into the warehouse and grabbed her sketchbook, the jeans, and a few other things. Nonchalantly, she said, “Lucian and I quit. This is my stuff, and I’m taking it. Good luck, Tracey.”

  Tracey didn’t object, she just said, “Fine. I can find someone better. You can have the jeans. They’re terrible anyway.”

  Evey smiled sincerely and said, “Good luck, Tracey.”

  Even in the worst situations, Evey had grace. I put my arm around her as we walked out. “You did good,” I told her.

  That marked the end of the Tracey era for Evey and me.

  TWO MONTHS LATER, I was doing odd jobs to make money, losing more feathers here and there, and feeling less angelic by the day. Meanwhile, Evey carried on as though it wasn’t unusual at all to be married to something that wasn’t human. I didn’t know what I was anymore.

  We had saved enough money to float us for a few months until Evey could get her business off the ground. I had to assure her that I had taken the money from really bad people. She wasn’t always convinced, and then I would just remind her that I personally knew Jesus Christ. We would both laugh because it just didn’t seem like that was the reality anymore, even though I knew him in my heart still.

  We were cleaning up a loft in the city, getting it ready to become Evey’s workspace. It had taken us a while to find the perfect spot. The loft was a huge high-beamed space with concrete floors and floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned almost the entire side of one block.

  “I think we should try to buy this place,” she said while we swept dust into giant mounds. “The neighborhood is being overhauled. It’ll probably be worth millions in a few years.”

  I started coughing and tried to clear my throat. I had to stop sweeping to catch my breath; the place was filthy. I felt like we were in over our heads, but she was happy. That was all that mattered. “Let’s look into it.”

  “We can convert it to a live/work space,” she said.

  “That’s a great idea. We’ll work on it.”

  “With a nursery.”

  I stopped sweeping and looked up from the floor. Evey had stopped sweeping too. I scanned her from head to toe. She was wearing a timid smile, leaning on the broom.

  “Evelyn,” I said in a warning tone.

  “You put a baby in me, Lucian.”

  “Jesus.”

  “No you,” she said.

  The ongoing joke was no longer funny. I was terrified inside, afraid that we’d have to endure the pain of loss all over again.

  Stalking toward her, I dropped the broom with a thud, took her in my arms, and held her close. I could hear the baby’s heart beating, like I’d had with Evey’s last pregnancy. Although beautiful, I wished that the sound I was hearing was more reassuring. It would be for normal people. I buried my face in Evey’s neck.

  She held me tight and whispered, “Tell me you’re happy.”

  My throat tightened. “I’m happy, Evey. Worried but happy.”

  “Please don’t worry. Let’s just take this one day at a time.”

  I nodded into her neck, but quickly pulled out of her embrace. It hit me, the possibility of it really happenening. I felt intense joy that overshadowed the fear. Real joy that Evey and I could become parents. “I have to go tell someone,” I said excitedly. “How far along are you? How do you know? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m probably about seven weeks. I just wanted to wait until after I missed my period. I wanted to be sur
e. Brooklyn brought me a test when you were out one day.”

  “I’m going to be a father. I have to go tell someone.” I was practically jumping out of my skin.

  “You’re so cute. Go, go tell someone. While you’re out, you should look for a suit for Brooklyn’s wedding. It’s in three weeks.”

  “Right,” I shouted as I headed for the elevator. I turned on my heel and ran back to Evey, took her in my arms, and spun her around. “I am so happy. I love you so much, but you should be wearing a mask or a ventilator here, okay? I’ll bring you back one. No more sweeping.” I set her down and headed back for the elevator.

  “Get a suit, Lucian!”

  Running out to the sidewalk, I cloaked myself and took flight, though not a steady flight with my now-very-depleted wings. I called for Zack or Mona and looked around for other angels but found no one I recognized. I really wanted to tell someone, and the only person I could think of was the bartender, Han. I headed for the Star Wars bar, and sure enough, he was working.

  He pointed at me as I walked toward the bar. “Bullet neat?”

  “Sure,” I said a bit apprehensively. It was only eleven in the morning, but I wanted to celebrate. I sat on a red vinyl bar stool. “So, Han—”

  “The name’s Greg,” he interrupted.

  “Greg, I have some news.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” There was something unusually familiar about Greg.

  He poured my drink and smiled in a knowing way. “What’s happening to you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shook his head. “Never mind. So what’s your news?”

  I took a sip. “So, um, remember Evelyn? The girl that I walked home that one night? She used to come in here once in a while?”

  “I remember,” he said, laughing.

  I didn’t understand why he was acting so strange.

  “She’s pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.” I shot him an ear-splitting grin.

  He didn’t smile back. He refilled my drink and then leaned over the bar. “You don’t have a clue, do you, Lucian?”

  Had I ever told him my name? I didn’t think so. “Clue about what?”

  As he moved an inch closer to my face, I recognized something in his greenish eyes. “Who are you?” I asked.

  “I got banished. I tried to sleep with Brooklyn, and Mona caught me.”

  “Zack?”

  He rolled his eyes and nodded. “You’re really losing it, man. Like, what is wrong with you?”

  “Why do you look like this guy? And you were so good! How could she banish you?”

  “I’m this guy forever. It’s part of my punishment.” I didn’t want to tell him that his new look was actually an improvement. “It wasn’t just the Brooklyn thing,” he said. “They found out I was zapping my couple pretty bad so they would stay in the house and be a little confused.”

  “Wow! That really is pretty despicable, man.”

  “Yeah, I know. I feel bad,” he said, but I wasn’t sure he really did. “So I hate to break it to you, Lucian—because you’re my friend—but you must know that things will eventually drop for you. Storm clouds are forming.”

  “Geez, Zack, why don’t you be a little more cryptic? You’re starting to sound like Mona now. And don’t tell me bad things are going to happen if you have no clue at all.” I looked around to see if anyone was in earshot of us. “Why do you want to ruin this for me? I think I’m becoming human. I think it’s really happening.”

  “You’re definitely losing your gifts, that’s for sure. You should have spotted me in a second.” He started wiping down the counter as he continued. “I don’t know. But I can’t be in this dude’s body, in this shitty bar for an eternity while you’re off living the life. Where’s the justice in that?”

  I stood and pushed the stool back forcefully, sending it screeching back a few feet. I threw a twenty on the counter. “Thanks for being a good friend. Sorry, you got thrown out. Don’t blame me though, Zack. I had nothing to do with it.”

  When I turned to walk away, he said quietly, “Storm’s coming.”

  “Fuck you,” I said, without turning around. I was sad our friendship was coming to an end that way. Zack was just bitter.

  I tried to fly home but couldn’t get off the ground, so I started walking. I walked and walked, feeling more pathetic than ever. I wasn’t a man or an angel. I was nothing. I popped into another bar and found a normal bartender to chat with. I drank three whiskeys, told him how excited I was about having a baby. I hoped he’d give me some congratulatory life hacks, but instead it was all negative.

  “Listen brother, prepare thyself. You are so in for it,” he said. “You should kiss sleeping good-bye right now.” Not that sleepless nights would be a new thing for me, though I was needing more and more of it as time went on.

  “Also, there won’t be any time for this…” He gestured toward the glass. “Drinking in bars midday unless you want your wife to leave you. And one other thing—you’re probably not gonna get any action for a while. They get what they want—a baby—and that’s all we’re needed for. She’ll literally be repulsed by you.”

  “What? That can’t be true.” I had been made to make Evey feel good.

  “You’re just a man,” he said. “There’s only so much you can do.”

  I was feeling terrible and drunk. My superhero metabolism was no longer working at all. On the way back home, I passed a department store and popped in to get a suit. The woman helping me kept saying, “Are you sure you want all black? Black shirt, tie, everything?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you need some dress shoes?”

  “Something wrong with these boots?” I said.

  “Let me help you. You’re too damn good-looking to spoil your suit with shoes like that. Let’s get you a white shirt and some nice shoes and keep everything else black, okay?”

  “Sure,” I slurred. My ears perked up at her compliment. Good-looking.

  She brushed my dick accidentally while she was measuring my inseam. “Oh, sorry about that,” she said, blushing.

  “It’s okay, baby.” Oh no, the Lucian evolution. Lucian: the angel, the drunk, the mortal pervert.

  She glanced at my wedding ring. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Friend’s wedding,” I said.

  She was an attractive woman, but I wasn’t attracted to her. I was just getting the attention I hadn’t gotten from Evey in a while. Evey had been swept up in Brooklyn’s wedding and the new studio loft, and now she would be swept up in a baby and have no time for me. I wondered if it was all worth it. I was changing fast. When I went to step into the dressing room, the woman hesitated outside it. She stared at me and glanced past me into the empty dressing room space. It was a come on. I’ve still got it. But I shook my head at her.

  She looked away and said, “I’ll be out here when you’re dressed.”

  Evey had texted me to meet her back at the apartment since I was taking forever, according to her. I believe her texts were starting to get naggy, but that might have been me being sensitive.

  When I walked through the door, she yelled from the couch, “Finally!” Her tone was not pleasant.

  I slurred, “Honey, I’m home.”

  “I’m not laughing, Lucian. Where were you?”

  I walked up to her and held out a receipt. “I got a suit. It’ll be ready in a couple of days.”

  She was sitting on the couch with her legs and arms crossed. There was no expression on her face. “Did it take five hours?”

  “I ran into Zack.”

  “Do I smell whiskey?”

  “Evey, there is no way you can smell my breath from down there.”

  “I’m pregnant, Lucian.” She tossed a copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting in my direction. “My sense of smell is heightened.”

  “Oh. Well, I had a couple of drinks.” I looked at my feet, ashamed.

  She huffed as she stood from the couch. “I’m showe
ring,” she said, walking past me.

  “I’ll join you.”

  “That’s okay.”

  It’s happening. I followed her down the hall and went past the bathroom to our bedroom. When I heard the water go on, I decided I wasn’t going to sit back and let that bartender be right. We needed make-up sex. I stalked into the bathroom and stripped down.

  I opened the shower curtain. At first she scowled, then her expression softened.

  “I want to touch my wife.” I waited for her to give me permission.

  She nodded infinitesimally. That was enough. Pressing myself against her back, I felt her relax. I kissed her neck, and she moaned.

  “I do need this, Lucian,” she said.

  “I know.”

  I moved my hand lower and touched her until she was writhing in my arms. I turned her around and slammed my mouth into hers. She bit my lip hard.

  I pulled back. “Ow. You taking your frustrations out on me?”

  “No, I just want it rough. You’ve been too easy on me, too gentle. I want strong Lucian back.”

  I picked her up to straddle me and pressed her hard against the tile. “I’m worried about the baby.”

  “It’ll be okay. Just fuck me.”

  Whoa. That pretty much did me in. I was moving hard inside her.

  “You’re the only one who can do this to me,” she said.

  “Well, I hope so.”

  She was falling apart in my arms… trembling. “Oh, Lucian, don’t baby me.”

  “Don’t say the word baby right now.” I moved harder and harder, and she was sopping wet everywhere.

  That bartender was full of shit. Evey was into it.

  Later that night, as we lay in bed, we talked about our plans. Evey kept saying, “One step at a time.” But I had the vague sense that I needed to speed things up.

  IT WAS VINTAGE Lucian in the shower that night… strong, powerful, sexy Lucian. Something had come over him. He fell asleep first, which was unusual, but then again, he had hit the whiskey and then expended quite a bit of energy on me.

  Halfway through the night, he woke me up when he made a pained sound. He started coughing, so I mindlessly rubbed his back and reached for some water. I was mortified at what happened next. I felt bone and feather breaking apart, disintegrating in my hand. Lucian was weak. He began moaning, so I felt his forehead; he was burning up.

 

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