by Elara Skye
The setup was straightforward. There was the cat shampoo that Amelia brought with her, the pitcher, and towels and treats for the aftermath. Once she was ready, Amelia carefully lowered Nyxie into the sink, holding her in place for a moment to calm her. The instant her hand withdrew, the cat scrambled out of her grasp, knocking the pitcher off the counter as she jumped off it.
“God damn it,” Amelia yelped as Nyxie jumped into the shower—as if she’d be safer there.
The ensuing scuffle proved useless and draining. Felines always lived up to their reputation of hating baths, and hers was no different. Nyxie was back in the shower once again, after taking several laps around the bathroom, and Amelia was exhausted. She was going to need a shower after this, as well.
A light knock came at the door, and Amelia paused to crack it open.
Finn stood on the other side, grinning. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“You sound like you’re having a tough time in there.”
She shook her head. “Nope, we’re all good in—damn it,” she muttered, nudging Nyxie away from the door. “I’ve got everything under control.”
“I’m more worried about you than Nyxie.”
“Please.” She scoffed. “I can bathe my own cat.”
“How about you let me in to assess that?”
“It’s fine, Finn. I’ve got it.”
“Well, I’m bored and need a break, and the sounds coming from this bathroom are much more entertaining than what I’m doing.” He nodded at the door. “Open up.”
Amelia was hesitant, but only at first. “Okay, fine. Hold on, let me get her away from the door.”
As expected, Nyxie darted away as soon as Amelia tried to pick her up.
“Okay, you can come in.”
Finn sifted through the crack in the door, shutting it behind him.
“Alright,” he sighed as he looked around. “Looks like you haven’t started.”
Amelia jabbed a finger in Nyxie’ direction. “It’s her fault. I have to tire her out so she stops running around.”
“Is that what you were doing?” Finn smirked, approaching the shower doors slowly. Amelia watched as he knelt at the edge of the shower, muttering a quiet ‘there now’ as he extended a hand.
Nyxie approached almost immediately, and Amelia’s jaw dropped as he picked her up without a fuss. “What the hell?”
Finn mumbled to himself, “Look at that, she’s missing a canine…”
“How’re you doing that?”
He blinked up at Amelia, grinning as he set Nyxie down on the counter. “Man’s touch—the ladies love me.”
Amelia snorted. “Yeah, okay. Set her down here and keep a good hold on her if you can. She doesn’t like the splashing sounds, so I’ll be going slow.”
“Got it.”
For a moment, Amelia admired how perfectly still Nyxie remained in his hands. So much so, that Amelia was able to lather her up and rinse her seamlessly. She only meowed once, and even then, it sounded more like a plea for attention from her handsome caretaker. It was the strangest bath time Amelia had ever had, and also the least painful.
“Alright, done.” Amelia threw a towel over to dry her fur and set her onto the ground. Naturally, Nyxie bolted from her grip the moment she saw the door opening behind her.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” Finn said, washing his hands in the sink. “Don’t know why you were making such a fuss.”
“That was miraculous.” She faced him. “And you are an enigma.”
“Enigma?” He shook the water off his hands as Amelia took his place. “I take offense to that.”
“I’ve got a laundry list of reasons why you shouldn’t.”
“Should I be dying to hear it?” Finn’s arms suddenly snapped around her waist, tugging at her shirt, and he pushed her against the sink. His voice came out in a low rumble as he kissed her neck, “Is it your turn now?”
“W-What?” Heat flooded her cheeks, and she splashed his face with a bit of water.
His hold disappeared as he backed up, feigning savage shock and amusement. “Did you just splash me?”
Amelia shuffled toward the shower, grinning nervously. “No?”
“Lying won’t excuse this behavior.”
Amelia couldn’t help but smile. She needed to take a shower—and not the sexy kind of shower that could be shared with a man. So, Amelia closed the space between them in two long strides, concocting a plan. Finn’s eyes widened with surprise, but he didn’t protest as she pushed him against the counter, sliding her arms around his neck. She was all but gentle, tangling her fingers in his hair. Nor was Finn the perfect gentleman—hands wondering, grabbing, squeezing.
Amelia pushed off of him, catching his breathlessness before bolting out of the unguarded door.
“I’m sorry!” She wailed as she shot down the hallway, back into Finn’s room—no doubt looking odd as she passed through Alaric’s view. There was a moment of silence when she whipped around, narrowing her eyes at the quiet hallway.
A suspicious grin tugged at her lip when she heard the faucet running, and Finn’s footsteps suddenly thundered out the door—pitcher in hand—with two inches of water at the bottom.
“You’re sorry, are you?” he exclaimed. “Not yet, you’re not.”
Amelia squealed and slammed the door, backing away from it.
Within seconds, she was sorely reminded that Finn was more than capable of opening a door, and he slammed it behind him as he ran straight toward her. Amelia wasn’t quick enough or agile enough to slip by him, and she yelped as an icy splash of water cascaded over her.
“Cruel, isn’t it?” Finn dropped the pitcher and grabbed her instead. “How’s it feel, darling?”
Amelia laughed heartily, “It feels like I have to take a shower, get away from me.”
“Wait.” He paused mid-movement, about to throw her onto the bed. “is that what this is about?”
“Did you not see me chasing Nyxie around the house all morning? I’m gross right now.”
“Trust me, you’re not,” he growled.
Amelia laughed as he threw her onto the bed. Her tank top and shorts nearly ripped in the process of their removal. As did the sheets, moments later, in the clutches of their quiet, unbridled ecstasy.
Chapter Fifteen
Amelia’s budding new hire was picking things up at an exceptional rate. He’d only been there for a short time, and she never would’ve guessed that he hadn’t been doing this for years. Even Amelia had forgotten the recipe that someone had just ordered from him, and the rate at which he’d memorized the rest was uncanny.
“How’s this?” Jesse beamed as he poured the drink.
Amelia leaned closer to look at the glass, which was the perfect shade of pink. “Well, I am one proud mama bird, I’ll tell you that,” she said, nodding toward the customer. “Go ahead.”
The kid was painfully inept at first, but he worked hard under her watchful eye. Recently, he’d even managed to hold down half the bar on his own during a rush. Which was good, since the two of them were paired on shifts quite frequently, and she needed the support while Cat was gone. After last week’s events, Amelia was happy—and lucky—to still have this job after storming out the way she did. The indiscretion did not go unpunished, and she was reprimanded firmly for it.
“Got any fun plans this weekend?” she asked him.
Jesse shrugged. “Fun by my standards. I’ll be at the animal shelter; I volunteer there twice a week.”
“Oh yeah? That’s interesting, I coach figure skating like a second job—also twice a week.”
“Figure skating? That’s pretty bada—” he stuttered, remembering not to cuss on the floor, “that’s pretty cool.”
Amelia snorted. “Nice save.”
“Don’t tell my boss.”
“I’ll take it to my grave,” she said, untying her apron. “I’m off now, you good for the rest of the night?”
“Yep, all good.”
After checking
with Pete, Amelia was out the door.
She initially considered that going back to night shifts wasn’t the best idea, but that didn’t seem to concern Pete as he scheduled her every week—slowly reverting back to the schedule she had before. After her outburst just over a week ago, Amelia was nervous to say anything. She simply wanted things to go back to normal. And as much as she enjoyed Finn and Alaric’s company, that would soon include moving back home—these next few nights would be her last in their apartment.
To prepare, Amelia invested in the fortification of their house—specifically in the form of security equipment and cameras. It didn’t matter that the only thing the intruder took was her sense of safety and privacy; there were weaknesses somewhere in the house that the intruder had exploited, and Amelia worked valiantly to counter that. Getting cameras, a new security system, and changing all their locks was her first move, just as the officer suggested.
Finn warned her ahead of time that he would be late in the office tonight, but she didn’t mind. Several blocks down was where she ordinarily parked her car, but Finn’s building was close enough for her to walk—though that didn’t stop Amelia from foul-mouthing the irritatingly cold weather as she rushed down the street, breaking off into a jog halfway down the sidewalk.
A few blocks down, she came to a stuttering stop, spotting Finn and Alaric in the distance.
Leaning against a lamp post and a wall, both were talking to a third person, wearing equally grave expressions. They were seemingly unaffected by the cold as well, even in their light winter coats. Amelia squinted her eyes, trying to make out why they seemed so heavily focused on whatever the third person was saying. But their faces were a bit too skewed by the snow—which persisted at the tail-end of winter—and it was easier to make out Finn’s face than Alaric’s.
They stood motionlessly at first, until Finn glanced down at his watch, nodding to his partner. Amelia briefly debated whether it was worth screaming their names across the street, but she didn’t get the chance as they straightened up to leave. She watched as they stalked across the road without caring to look in either direction.
Amelia strode toward them, hair whipping across her face, and paused when Finn glanced in her direction—looking away as if he hadn’t seen her. A heartbeat later, she gasped, nearly dropping her purse when a car missed him by a beat. It was a wonder that the driver didn’t react, or even honk at them. Though at that moment, it dawned on her that none of the drivers seemed to be acknowledging them at all.
Finn and Alaric continued at a brisk pace until they disappeared around the corner. Amelia herself could barely see them in this stupid weather, even as she encroached on them. If she didn’t know better, she might’ve said that the weather seemed worse around the two of them—what with the gusts of snow smacking against their bodies. It flared in thin wisps, making them difficult to discern from a distance.
Her eyes widened as she stepped around the corner of the building. Finn and Alaric weren’t standing at the turn of the sidewalk—no one was. The picture of the street was frozen, the cars standing stock-still on the road. Their drivers seemed frozen in time, and even the snow was suspended in the air—though she still felt the icy tendrils of the blizzard nipping at her cheeks.
Panic bled into Amelia’s chest, like a cold, viscous liquid slowly sinking in. Her brain sent back one error message after another, struggling to register what she was seeing. Everything looked dark, and the edges of her vision seemed to buzz, as though everything in sight had a minuscule vibration. A direct look was required for any given object to appear sharper.
Amelia exhaled shakily as she closed her eyes, tightening them. Sensory overload was kicking in—muting the sense in question was bound to help. And sure enough, upon opening them again, everything was back to normal, though there were no signs of Finn and Alaric once everything stabilized. Like a deer in headlights, Amelia remained rooted in place, slivers of doubt creeping in about what she just witnessed.
It was slow to come, but reality seeped back into her skin, prompting her to walk.
She needed to get home.
Before they disappeared, Amelia was sure that Finn had looked straight at her—that he saw her—yet there was no sign of it in his expression. Nor was there any apprehension at the thought of wandering into the middle of the road. There were hardly any people on the street, but still. The pavilion surrounding the complex was equally empty, and even the restaurant lights were off, filling their interiors with darkness.
Amelia realized in retrospect that she should have taken a cab—at least someone would’ve been watching as she traversed the pavilion. This wasn’t a good time for her to be alone, and her confidence had wavered from the incident moments ago. Still, she was near the complex and rationalized that worrying was useless now. Afterward, it took an effort not to let her boots scrape tiredly against the icy ground. Amelia crossed the pavilion, slowing with a cursory glance at her reflection in the blackened windows of a café.
Her eyes widened, and she stopped. Her reflection wasn’t the only one in the window, as it very well should have been.
Amelia blinked once, then twice, but the image didn’t change. Four other figures were surrounding her in a random disbursement. All were facing in different directions, utterly frozen and undisturbed by the same wind that whipped the edges of her coat and hair. She stepped toward the glass, the cold air drying out her lips and widened eyes. A panicked glance over her shoulder confirmed she was alone, but the reflection continued to tell a different story.
“Wh—” Amelia breathed out, her face twisting with confusion.
There wasn’t time to finish the thought. Or to consider what she was seeing. A gust of wind hit her hard—not like any normal breeze—and knocked her gruffly against the side of her body, forcing the wind straight out of her lungs. Her feet left the ground at the moment of the impact, and she flew several feet into the air. Her poorly positioned arm hit the ground instead of her head, and she cried out as pain shot through her elbow.
“Amelia!” she heard someone call out her name, but her vision was inexplicably blurred. The voice was familiar, and Amelia’s eyes fluttered up to the figure that appeared at her side.
Was it Finn—maybe?
Another figure resembling Alaric shot out from her left, while the one beside her sidestepped to her front. “Amelia,” he pleaded as he knelt, trying to help her up. “Amelia, please look at me.”
She didn’t look at him. Instead, Amelia rolled onto her stomach and propped herself slightly against her uninjured elbow. Her eyes fixed on what was ahead—on the currents of air and crackling lightning that enveloped Alaric, rising into the night from his backside. She realized then that this effect was the ‘snow’ she thought she saw earlier. Something black escaped his grip, like a collection of wispy smoke, disappearing into the night with a rush of wind. Alaric’s glowing eyes suddenly fell to hers, as though he felt her looking.
“Finn...” he murmured gravely, his voice echoing in her ears, as though it were coming from a distance. Finn glanced in his direction but said nothing, tending to her elbow instead. “Finn.”
“What?” he finally snapped—his voice, conversely, sounded normal.
“She’s looking at me.”
His movements paused. “What?”
Amelia heard their voices, but her vision was growing darker by the minute, her arm failing her as she collapsed to the ground. Phantom sensations from the impact remained in her chest, stinging, as though she was hit with something large enough to leave an imprint in her bones. Her body responded accordingly, feeling more exhausted than it should have been—like all her energy was being squeezed from her limbs. Even the cold, wet ground felt comfortable in her moment of need.
In the corner of her eye, Finn reared back, following her line of sight.
“She’s looking right at me,” Alaric breathed out again, sounding disturbed.
“She can’t be.” Finn pulled back her hair and lifted
her into his arms. “Amelia, look at me—Amelia?”
Her name was the last thing she heard before fading away.
Chapter sixteen
Finn lowered Amelia onto his bed, while Alaric turned on a nearby lamp and stepped away. Immediately, she was washed over by the pale, blue tint of the lampshade, while Finn shifted her around to make her comfortable. Afterward, he sat beside her, taking her injured elbow in his hand—actively trying to calm his skyrocketing pulse while he healed it. This would ensure that she would feel no pain when she awoke.
No physical pain, at least.
As hard as it was for Finn to wrap his brain around it, the demon’s impact nearly forced the soul straight from Amelia’s body. He had never seen a human in the Ether before, nor did he realize what was happening. Not until the very last moment, when the demon dove into the pavilion. Demons populated the Ether at every turn, and this instance was no different, though he could never have guessed what it intended to do. Had they intervened a second later, Amelia might have been violently robbed of her soul.
For now, everything seemed fine—not accounting for the other injury still lingering in the room, though it was of a different nature. Finn looked at Alaric over his shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, sure.”
He stared. “You don’t sound convinced.”
Not that Finn could blame him. Witnessing an angel up close in the Ether was a violation in itself, particularly when the angel in question did not wish to be seen.
“I’ll be fine,” Alaric said. “How is she?”
Finn swallowed hard. “She’ll be alright, hopefully.”
Physically, she’d awake unscathed. But there was no way of knowing what Amelia saw or how she would take it until that moment came. There were less than a handful of human beings throughout history that had the honor of meeting an angel—of learning their true identity. The human lying unconscious before them would have more to say about the matter, given the nature of their relationship. Especially when Amelia realized what it meant that she and Finn had—
