Ethereal Ties

by Elara Skye

  Jesse sighed. “Okay, well, you shouldn’t ever be scared of a guy. That I can tell you off-bat.”

  Amelia considered it a moment. “He’d never hurt me.”

  “Still, you shouldn’t ever be scared of a guy.”

  “I’m scared of what he does, not him.”

  “That counts too.” Jesse shrugged. “Dump him, then.”

  Amelia looked at him. He reminded her of Jack at that moment—ever the simple one, whose words plucked her heartstrings. “What, just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  “Well, at this point, I don’t even know if that would work as an easy fix.”

  “If you can’t deal with how he lives his life, then dump him. It’s not your business to tell him to change it.”

  “Well, he lives his life like a normal person, I guess,” she mumbled, fighting the lump that rose. “It doesn’t affect me directly.”

  After all, Finn promised that what happened in the Ether would never happen again, so long as she stayed conscious of it.

  “Okay. So, if it doesn’t affect you, why worry about it?” A grave look came over him. “Unless he’s like, actually mafia. Then you should jump ship no matter what. Maybe grab one of his guns as a souvenir.”

  She snorted. “Prime advice, Jesse.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, his tone was earnest. “I say think of yourself first, then yourself with him, and then him—it’ll remind you that you’ve got to look out for yourself first, ‘cause no one else will.”

  She blinked, eyes widening as she looked at him. “Now, that’s actually helpful.”

  He raised his beer. “My sister, Catherine, had her share of bad relationships. It wasn’t pretty.”

  “I see.” Amelia lifted her cocktail for a sip as well, “Well, bless that girl and the wisdom that came with her.” She hesitated before the glass reached her lips, thinking twice about what she just said. Amelia had never offered a sentiment like that before, and it was strange to do it now—it bore new meaning for her.

  “Yeah, well, getting that wisdom wasn’t a pretty process. For her boyfriends, either.”

  “Why, you beat ‘em up?”

  “Came pretty damn close, to be honest. And they would’ve deserved it. Some people have nothing better to do than to crap on other people’s lives.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Amelia said, thinking back to the rumors she heard from Julian. It remained difficult to believe that her father would stoop so low. But if he did, he must have known that it would ruin her chances of ever finding a job—at least, one where her reputation might be known. “Cheers.”

  Jesse went on. “Yep, that’s what family’s for. I totally would’ve gone to jail if she let me.”

  Amelia looked at him, wondering if her father ever made such sentiments. “Yeah, family’s a funny thing.”

  “Another round?”

  “Sure.” She nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  The rest of the night went by quickly, as did the conversation. In the end, Amelia overestimated her capacity to take down the second round of drinks—her tolerance had weakened without her noticing—and by that point, she knew better than to walk back to Finn’s building in the late evening. She called a cab instead, checking her phone for the millionth time as she waited inside the bar. The rain had replaced the snowy season, which could now only be found deep in the mountainous areas of the world. Water splashed all over her boots as she dashed toward the cab, and then again to the tower.

  Amelia slowed at the group of men standing outside, recognizing Finn among them. His expression seemed grave and distant, but his features softened when he saw her approaching from the side.

  “Oh—” Finn stepped back from the group. “Amelia.”

  Rain pattered on the ground behind her, having drenched some of her hair already. The coat she wore was light in color, revealing just how much of it had assaulted her on the way here.

  “Hey,” she answered him, looking around at the others.

  Finn faced his guests and gestured to her. “This is Amelia—Varis.” He didn’t give her a title and hesitated over her last name—Amelia wondered if these men would’ve recognized her real one.

  “Nice to meet you all.” She nodded politely.

  “Nice to meet you too, young lady,” one of the older gentlemen answered.

  “This is Robert.” Finn gestured to the man that spoke, and then the others. “Alexander, Joshua.”

  “Are you a friend of Finn’s?” Robert asked.

  Amelia might’ve asked Finn to answer that question, but his eyes snapped to her instead. It was a split-second decision to answer, “Yes, I am.”

  A passerby wouldn’t have noticed, but the moment that followed secretly lasted a year.

  “Well, it’s any friend of Finn’s is a friend of ours,” Robert said.

  Through the passively friendly exterior, Amelia saw the glimmer of relief that swept through Finn. “Right,” he finally breathed out. “Gentlemen, let’s pick this up tomorrow, shall we?”

  “Of course,” Robert answered for the group, and Amelia waited as they exchanged some final words before excusing themselves.

  Finn turned back to her the moment they were gone, her breath hitching as he suddenly closed some of the space between them. “Are you—”

  “Alright?” she interjected, backing away a bit. “Yeah, I am. If that’s what you were going to ask.”

  He studied her anxiously. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.” She thought so, at least. “How about you? Did you have a good day?”

  The rain continued to fall, trickling down the street, masking the silence.

  Finn answered, “It could have been better. What about yours?”

  “I hung out with Jesse for a bit after work,” she said. Finn nodded again, and she caught the tension fluttering through his jaw. “I thought about things and made a couple of decisions.”

  “Like what?”

  Amelia pressed her lips together, taking a moment to finalize them in her heart.

  In terms of Finn—there was no denying the fact that if she touched his skin, it would never be the human. No denying that the heart beating inside his chest wasn’t the same as hers. It never was and never would be. They would never be the same species.

  Yet, even so, the anxiety in his eyes was human. And the same could be said for the nervousness in his quick breath, which they shared at that moment. Despite what Amelia now knew about him—which she needed time to accept—there was no denying how she still felt about this man.

  No—this angel.

  “First, I still need time after everything that happened. But I don’t like that we’re not talking, so I’d like to keep doing that.”

  Finn stared at her a moment, as though looking for signs of doubt, and then visibly relaxed—even grinned a little. “Sure.”

  “I want to have the mental fortitude to get through this, because…I really care about you a lot. And I want to know you better.”

  “Right,” he agreed. “So do I.”

  “And second, I thought about one other decision today...”

  “Tell me.”

  “I…want to think about calling my dad.”

  Finn stared at her blankly, eyes widening. “What?”

  “I haven’t made any decisions yet,” she clarified. “And I don’t know if I’m thinking about it straight. But after what happened last week, I need to face what’s going on and stop trying to evade it—like everything else.”

  “What happened last week?”

  “I heard about a rumor going around that I blackmailed Daniel, and that it got me kicked off the will.” She cringed at the thought. “It’s just not right. If I ever want to get a job or get back into the business, people have to know that I didn’t do that. I have to get to the bottom of this.”

  Calling her father may or may not have accomplished much, but it would’ve been a start. Raymer had also mentioned something about him being in poor healt
h—maybe it was time to inquire about that as well. Meanwhile, Finn’s lips parted and closed again. It took a moment for her to recognize the graveness in his expression. That there was tension in his eyes and lips, which thinned into a straight line. She had never seen him don that look before.

  “What is it?” she asked, though he seemed hesitant to answer.

  “Amelia...” he murmured, running a hand down her arm, squeezing her elbow. “I’d support you fully in this, but...”

  “But what?”

  He exhaled sharply, breath teeming with dread. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Your father passed away.”

  Amelia fell silent, as though the floor was suddenly swept out from under her feet. “What?”

  “Robert,” Finn continued reluctantly, “was one of his closest associates these past few years. Your father was evidently quite ill. I just heard about it.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Finn nodded. “He also said that there would be a dinner in his memory, following a funeral service at Neige Mountain Resort. They’re keeping to plans they already have there. I expect someone will be in touch with you soon, as well.”

  Her jaw dropped, but grief hadn’t quite sifted through the initial shock. Dread, however, began eating away at her chest, and she swallowed the ball in her throat. “I can’t go to that—I don’t have any reason to.”

  “He bequeathed you majority shares of Hart Corporation.”

  She blinked. The information hit her like a wrecking ball, forcing the ball back up her throat. “What? How do you know that?”

  “Robert is acquainted with the board. They were the first to hear of it.” Finn gripped her trembling arm. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot.”

  “Are you going?” she asked, recalling that he had also worked with his father some time ago. “Did they invite you?”

  “Yes, I’ve been invited.” He shrugged. “Not formally, the way you will be. But I suppose they expect I’ll make an appearance, given my past dealings with your father. I haven’t made any decisions, though. I won’t do anything that will make you uncomfortable.” Finn paused. “But I would be there with you if you wanted to go.”

  Amelia wasn’t sure when the tears began—she only noticed them as she nodded her head, shaking a few droplets loose. Pretty soon, her cheeks turned hot, and her vision blurred as she looked away. Arms hanging limply at her sides, Amelia felt distinctly alone at that moment. What remained of her family was gone. The parts of her that only they knew had disappeared with them.

  She was an orphan.

  A thumb swiped under her eye, taking some of the wetness with it—it was a warm touch, cutting through the cold, brisk air. Her eyes snapped toward it, and Finn pulled his hand back. “Sorry.”

  A choked-up sob escaped her throat as she looked away, raising a hand to cover her mouth. It was difficult to remain steady on her feet, but Amelia managed as she dragged herself away from where Finn stood, leaning against a pillar.

  “Where are you going?” she heard him ask, and she stopped.

  Her voice trembled in between sobs, “I can’t take this. All of it—it’s too much.”

  “Let’s go home.” Finn came up behind her, laying a hand on either shoulder. “Amelia, please come home with me.”

  She covered her face with both her hands, unable to stop the tears. Amelia did and didn’t want to go with him. On the one hand, she couldn’t bear the mental image of being rolled up in his bed, forcing him to tolerate her endless sobbing. With her face reddened, features tense and ugly, she realized the magnitude of the grief that lay ahead. And if the teary droplets falling between her fingers were any indicator, there was one hell of a storm brewing. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t spoken to her father in years—why did this have to happen now, when she finally decided to think about calling him?

  Finn sidestepped in front of her, pulling her into an embrace. “Amelia,” he mumbled in her ear, “You don’t have to make any decisions. I’ll leave you alone if you want, but please don’t stay out here and cry.”

  The contact was so comforting, Amelia melded against him for more, wrapping her arms around his backside. He was so warm.

  The tug she felt was initially small, growing more encouraging as he pressed his lips to her hair, and whispered reassurances to her. It was a simple comfort that couldn’t change much, but then, the night wouldn’t call for more than that.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Airports were a headache for Amelia at the best of times. At the worst, they were a pointless drain on what little energy she had left, and she hated them. Moreover, she hated flying in general. And in the days that followed her father’s death, an airport was the last place she wanted to be—not that it could be helped.

  Per Finn’s prediction, Amelia received a phone call from her father’s attorney the day after he broke the news. In truth, she didn’t fully believe it until then. The attorney, in turn, strongly advised her to attend the memorial dinner when she brought it up—in fact, he encouraged her to participate in any occasion where the company’s board would be in attendance. At least for the foreseeable future, until the legal matters were sorted out.

  Amelia had mere days to consider the trip and resultantly realized that she needed more time than was given to her—time to fortify herself before facing those people again. To add to that, she had to consider that the alternative to accepting the inheritance was to sell it—no doubt someone would make her an offer soon—but the clock was ticking on that matter as well. Finn reassured her that there were no high-up reports of the rumors she had mentioned before, so the stress of potential job loss following her encounter with Julian was unnecessary. It was unlikely that the board of directors had heard any such tales about her expulsion from the will.

  As if their opinion of her should have carried any weight. This was the same group of people that decided that a mountain resort was an appropriate location for a memorial dinner. Even if they had booked an event there in advance, the notion was baffling to Amelia. Someone had to bring up the idea, and all others had to approve—were there any objections at all? She could only reason that none of them wanted to assume the extra flight expenditure to meet on a separate occasion—that was how the rich stayed rich, after all.

  Finn hadn’t explicitly offered to purchase their flight tickets, and it was a bit of a surprise when he presented her with hers. Still, it was the hotel’s accommodation that shocked her most profoundly. A room was arranged for her free of charge—on one of the lower levels, of course—in honor of their most frequent, gracious, and would-be missed shareholder.

  Whose assets now belonged to her.

  In the meantime, Finn had offered her to continue to stay at their apartment. As kind as that offer was, Cat came home a few days later, and Amelia needed to be there to meet her.

  Later on, Amelia opted to meet Finn at the airport on the evening of their trip. Weather advisories said to dress warmly for the mountains, but thankfully, Finn wasn’t opposed to casual apparel for the flight itself.

  Amelia first saw him through the lobby window, while teetering across the airport loading zone. It was almost unsettling to see him the way she did, slowing at the stop light that flickered red. Supposedly, he was a celestial being, slumped on one of the benches just inside the revolving doors, wearing a zip-up hoodie and a baseball cap—just like any normal person. It was hard to envision him as anything but that.

  The physical distance between them these past few days only exasperated the tension, doing more harm than good. After a brief exchange about the weight of her carry-on, Amelia followed Finn to the security area, where the line was as long and daunting as she expected. There, she tensed when Finn took her hand, leading her through the first-class corridor instead. Onward was a matter of lingering in the waiting area until their group got called.

  “First-class fliers, please line up now,” the intercom blared, after an hou
r.

  Finn gave Amelia’s forearm a gentle squeeze. “Hey.”

  “Huh?” She sat up sharply. She’d been dozing off in the neighboring chair, and her neck ached from the sudden movement.

  “It’s our turn,” he said.

  “Oh. Right.”

  They packed up their belongings and stood, walking toward the gate. Finn turned to take her boarding pass once they got close. “Here, let me do it.”

  “Okay.” She complied without question, despite the relative lack of enthusiasm in his voice.

  Amelia wondered if she should ask him about it when they sat down. There were many things that she had yet to learn about him—how he truly saw the world, and how it made him feel—but she doubted that the timing was right. Everything felt so fragile at the moment, and she wanted these conversations to happen naturally, without the pressure of confrontation.

  Amelia’s suitcase rumbled as it wheeled behind her, up the jetway. Finn had chosen the most luxurious airline for their trip, and the first-class cabin was just as Amelia remembered it from a thousand years ago: leather chairs, partitions up for privacy, and an open view out the window. Nearly nothing about it had changed. She had already thanked Finn for his generosity with the plane tickets and felt tempted to do so again the moment they boarded. His face fell shortly afterward, almost as soon as he looked away—which saddened her. She supposed this whole thing must’ve been difficult for him too.

  The leather sighed as she sat down next to the window, feeling at home and out of place at the same time. The bedding pouch crinkled as Finn moved it out of the way and settled in the seat beside her. Other passengers filed in after them, and another hour passed before the plane began to move.

  They’d be arriving early in the morning, so the cabin was entirely dark come midnight, save for the television screens flickering at them. Amelia tried her best to sleep, but it evaded her masterfully, seemingly repelled by her general disconcertion.

  Finn was evidently in a bad mood as well, and he didn’t seem lucky with getting any sleep either—assuming he needed it at all. Did angels need to sleep? She’d seen him do it before but wasn’t sure of its necessity.