by SF Benson
Deserved. It’s not like I expected him to eagerly open his arms to me. “I only want a few minutes.”
“I need to get to the store before it closes.” He leans against the doorframe.
“Please, Colton.” New rules of behavior come into play with this man. He has me begging. Me. I’ve never begged for anything. Rubbing the back of my neck, I plead, “Hell, I’ll buy whatever you need. Just let me in.”
He sighs and steps to the side. “I need to buy a laptop.”
“Done.” I close the door and set the suitcase down in the hall. My uneven steps follow him into the living room. “I’ll pick one up and drop it at the bar. Anything else?”
“No.”
Sitting on the sofa, I pat the cushion. “Sit down, Colton. I want to explain myself.”
“I’m good.” He paces the floor. The muscles jumping under his skin—flesh I want to touch—let me know he’s far from good. “You have five minutes.”
“Fine.” I steel my spine. He’ll either hate me or understand. “You want to know my doubts. I only have one.”
Colton stops moving and cuts his eyes toward me.
“My only concern is where this is going between us.”
“Let me alleviate one of those concerns. We’re going nowhere.” Colton picks up the suitcase and heads for the bedroom.
Sorry. I’m not giving up so easily. Not when being with him feels right. Trailing behind him, I say, “You’re wrong, Colton. I want a relationship with you. I want time to get to know you. You want the same things.”
He drops a shirt on the bed and whirls around. “Not anymore. I can’t trust you.”
My heart cracks a little. I’ve been here before. Different man. Similar issue—trust. “I wasn’t keeping secrets from you. Azaria shouldn’t have said those things.”
“But she did.” His jaw clenches and unclenches. “Didn’t you say you wanted me for more than a quick fuck?”
The words tumble out. “I did. I do.”
Colton steps closer. His eyes flash dark. “What were her words? Oh… ‘Have you fucked him yet? The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can move on.’”
My chest tightens, and all I want to do is run. “It’s not like that. You know that’s not what I want.”
“Do I? Here, let me make it easier for you.” Colton shoves the suitcase to the floor and holds his arms out wide. “Let’s get this over with. Remember, I wanted a quick lay when I met you. Fuck me, and we can both move on.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to move on.”
Colton drops his hands. “Whatever we were trying to have is over. Get the fuck out.”
“I’ll drop off the computer tomorrow.”
“Don’t bother.” His nostrils flare while his cheeks burn red. “I don’t want shit from you.”
Slowly, I nod, putting one foot in front of the other, and leave the apartment. The door slams behind me like the last nail on the cross. I’m too broken inside to move another step. I lean against the wall and try hard to breathe, but this… This hurts too damned bad.
“Another fight?”
The feminine voice startles me. Lifting my eyes, I find Marjorie. “What are you doing here?”
“Doing what I always do. Picking up the pieces. Again.” She wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Come on. We need to have a serious talk.”
As much as I don’t want to, I let her drag me to the bar. Marjorie grabs a bottle of bourbon and two glasses and then points to a corner booth. I follow behind her like a forlorn child.
“Tell me what’s going on,” she says, sliding onto the seat. She pours out two drinks and hands me a glass.
I gulp down the liquid, not even noticing the burn. “He won’t listen to me.”
“History tells me that this is because of Azaria. What did she do this time?”
Marjorie is one of the few humans who knows my secret. When she found me in the street, bloodied and beaten, I had to give her an explanation. Lying has never been a strength, so I was honest. She learned about Ezekiel on that night, and eventually, she found out the truth about Azaria too.
Marjorie sips her drink. When I don’t offer an explanation, she provides her own. “You’re not human, but honestly you’re like any other male.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Don’t you realize Azaria is in love with you? Your so-called best friend continues to hinder every relationship you try to have.”
Running my fingers through my hair, I frown. “You’re wrong, Marjorie. Az is over me. She’s with Zeke now.”
Marjorie waves her hand in the air before pouring me another drink. “That’s temporary. I’ve seen them together.” She pauses for a moment. “How bad are things between you and Colt?”
“I came to apologize. He threw me out.” I toss back my drink.
“Fix this, Jeremiah. Remember what happened last year? You can’t mope around and scare off my customers.”
My head bobs up and down.
She leans in, lowering her voice, and says, “Between you and me, Colt is hiding something.”
I tilt my head to one side. Nice to know I’m not the only one sensing it. “What have you picked up on?”
Did I forget to mention that Marjorie is gifted? She has the ability to see things about people. It’s not a refined skill. Sometimes she misses things—fails to identify supernaturals, misidentifies others. When she detects an otherworldly presence, however, I listen.
“I don’t think he’s human.” Her fingers trace the raised writing on the bottle’s label. “Every time I talk to him, I feel like I know him from somewhere. But when I try to place it, I can’t. It’s like he’s hiding his true nature.”
Why would a supernatural cloak their identity from others besides the obvious reasons?
“He filled out paperwork, right?”
A deep frown crosses Marjorie’s pretty face. “He gave me a lame story about running from his family.”
“It’s the truth.” I run a finger along the rim of the glass before taking a sip. “He’s running from his father. Apparently, the man abused Colton.”
She presses her lips together for a moment. “That’s not what he told me. He concocted this story about being part of a mob family. When I asked him about it, he said telling me would get me killed.”
Her news saddens and angers me. Colton claimed he couldn’t trust me, but he wants everyone else to believe all his bullshit. All he has to do is be honest…
Really? You have the nerve to say that?
Ignoring the sudden attack by my conscience, I say, “Is he working tonight?”
“Yeah. I’ll be here all night with him.” Marjorie grimaces as she finishes her drink. “Do us all a favor and don’t come in. Jeremiah, I don’t want to hear set after set of sad love songs.”
Unable to tolerate Marjorie’s incisive gaze, I avert my eyes. This human thinks she knows so much about me. “I’m not in love with Colton. Love requires time and understanding. We have neither.”
Marjorie touches my hand, capturing my attention. “I’m not a fool. You’re in the same position you were in a year ago. You fell hard back then.”
I flinch.
“Sorry.” Her voice cracks a little. “I only meant that you lose your heart easily. Maybe it’s one of the little quirks of your kind?”
“No.” My kind was created in perfection—there are no peculiarities. Except for me, but that’s a matter for another day. Finishing my drink, I say, “I told Colton I’d buy a laptop for him. Can I drop it by here?”
“Sure. Just use the back entrance. I’m serious,” Marjorie warns. “I don’t want the two of you crossing paths. I’ll pay you to stay away for a few nights. Deal?” She extends her hand.
Her offer goes against my better judgment, but I shake her hand. “Whatever you want.” To be honest, my viewpoint has been fucked-up.
Ever since he arrived.
My life would be easier if I could be more like my brother. Ezekiel has always been e
asy going. Nothing fazes him. He didn’t even complain when I was forced out of our home. Ezekiel claimed he’d be happier amongst humans and came with me. As soon as we got here, he went into business for himself. Through the years he’s been into a variety of different enterprises. His latest endeavor is a tattoo shop, Dark Wing Ink, down in Lower Manhattan. The business is profitable and employs both humans and supernaturals. My self-indulgent sibling even has a high-rise, luxury apartment in Tribeca.
The shop bell rings as I push open the heavy glass door. I’m surprised to find the place empty. My footsteps echo across the wooden floor toward Ezekiel who is at a station in the back.
“It’s late. What do you want, Brother?” He keeps cleaning his instruments without making eye contact.
“Answers.” I climb into the leather chair and lie back.
“About?”
My gaze ping-pongs around the visible areas of the shop. “We alone?”
Ezekiel puts the tool down and comes by my side. “Yeah. I don’t have a client for another hour or so. The rest of the staff left for the day. What’s up?”
“First, are things serious between you and Az?”
“Don’t you think that’s personal, Brother?” Ezekiel purses his thin lips and rubs his chin. “Short answer? Shit naw.” He reaches beneath a counter and pulls two longneck beers from a fridge. Popping the caps, he hands me a bottle. “Azaria is strictly scratching an itch, nothing more. Why? You switching teams?”
My answer comes in the form of a heated stare before I take a long pull of the dark lager. “You remember Marjorie?”
“The sexy human down at the bar?” Of course that’s how my brother thinks of Marjorie. He’s been interested since the moment they met. “What about her?”
“She told me Az was in love with me.”
“Not news to me,” Ezekiel admits.
My head rocks up. I’ve never known my brother to take up with anyone not interested in him.
“Before you say it, I assumed she’d forget about you by being with me.” He takes a swig and shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I was wrong.”
Now I’m confused. Is he disappointed? “What’s going on, Zeke?”
“Nothing for you to be concerned about.” A smile tugs at Ezekiel’s lips. “I have my reasons for fucking Azaria.”
Infinite scenarios, none of them good, go through my mind. I’d like to remind Ezekiel that he’s talking about my best friend, but then an errant concept enters my head. One based on a possibility I’d rather not believe.
“Zeke, what I’m about to ask you requires total honesty.” I pause for a beat or two, searching for the right phrasing. Finding none, I blurt, “Would Azaria do anything against me?”
Ezekiel leans against the counter and juts out his chin. “Brother, Azaria’s a member of the Exousiai. You know our purpose in the Realm. No one’s loyal to each other. I tried to tell you that a millennium ago, but you insisted that she was your friend.”
Hearing the truth from Ezekiel hurts more than when Marjorie said it. Reminders of what we all were aren’t necessary. Regardless, I believed the three of us were above that nonsense. In the Realm, we were warriors. Thick as thieves as the saying goes. But Azaria and I… We’ve been through a lot of shit. Often she had my back when I went up against the Principalities. I guess it was all a joke, but why?
“One more thing, Zeke.” I might as well ask since we’re laying it all out. “Do you think Azaria blocks my relationships?”
“Do you want an honest answer, or would you like me to blow a little smoke up your beloved ass?”
Truth or falsehood? One is easy to swallow but keeps me living in a delusional world. The other? As much as I don’t want to hear it, I need to know. “Give it to me straight, Zeke.”
He exhales and sits on the stool. “Honestly, I don’t think Azaria has ever been the friend you needed. The one you thought she was. She’s a selfish authority who would sell either of us out in a heartbeat.”
His assessment causes my scars to flare. Reality kicks me in the shins—I’m pretty much alone here in this world. Outside of Ezekiel that is.
“Tell me, Brother, what has my fuck buddy done to prompt all these questions?”
Too much information, but now is not the time for sensitivity. Fixing things with Colton is my only concern. “She may have screwed up my one chance for happiness.”
Ezekiel polishes off his beer and tosses the bottle in a trash can. “Ah, the fucking prophecy. The bane of your existence.”
There are days when I wish I never heard that damned prophecy. Ever since the Guardian, the one I called a prophet, spoke the words, I’ve spent every waking minute in pursuit of my destiny. It’s driven me, guiding me on a path full of misery.
Ezekiel clears his throat. “Let me clue you in, Brother. While you were busy defending your right to love who you wanted, I took notes. I paid attention to the arguments between realms. The Principalities said one thing while the Ophanim had their viewpoint. They decided the Guardian had to leave along with everyone else.”
“Why?” The Celestial was simply a messenger. He meant no harm.
“The Realm doesn’t tolerate chaos. He invited it by giving you the prophecy. Because of that, he had to go.” Ezekiel peers down at the bottle for a long moment before adding, “There’s something else you should know.”
“What?” His words and manner leave me with a bad feeling.
Ezekiel blows air through his cheeks. “Your friend discovered the prophecy.”
Shaking my head side to side, I mutter, “No.”
“Yes. She found the fucking scroll,” Ezekiel’s voice grows harsh. “Even tried to destroy it. The Guardian caught her in the act.”
A block of ice chills my blood. She lied to me. “Azaria denied any prior knowledge. When I told her the prophecy, she said it was the first time she heard it.”
“All lies, Brother.”
“This makes no sense. If she didn’t want me to know the prophecy, why did she come with me? She could have stayed home.”
Ezekiel’s eyes flick toward the ceiling. “You really don’t know, do you?”
Sharply, I ask, “Know what?”
“Azaria didn’t come with you out of friendship. She came to keep you from finding your destiny. The Realm doesn’t want you to find true love with a man. It’s one thing for humanity not to embrace doctrine. It’s a different game when our brethren question it.”
And there it is. The answer I never wanted to hear. Since the beginning of time, man has broken commandments. Bent laws and reshaped them to fit. Throughout it all celestial beings have fought to uphold doctrine. For instance, angels may love one another as long as it’s the opposite sex.
“Azaria’s task is to prevent supposed chaos,” he points out. “Can you imagine the backlash?”
“Yeah, I can.” If doctrine is broken and Celestials question all that’s been taught, the Nether Region will get wind of it. They’ll question too. Wars of angels and demons fighting each other might ensue. Not a pretty picture on any level.
Azaria led me to believe she came with me out of friendship. Reality hits me like a fist. “You didn’t have to leave either, did you?”
“Nope,” Ezekiel admits. “I knew what Azaria was up to, so I came to protect you.”
My mouth drops while my hand relaxes its grip.
Ezekiel grabs my bottle before it hits the floor. “I suspect you need a stronger drink. There’s a bottle of tequila in my office. Care to join me?”
As tempting as it sounds, I can’t. I get to my feet. “Maybe another time. I promised someone I’d do a favor.”
“Want my advice, Brother?”
Like he needs permission.
“If you think you’ve found The One, guard him. Keep him away from Azaria. She’ll hurt him to protect the Realm.”
“She won’t hurt a human,” I remind him.
“For his sake, I hope he’s human. If he’s not, Azaria will come after him. She
won’t stop until he takes his place in Hell.”
My throat clogs, but I have to ask one more question since I came for answers. “Zeke, why would a supernatural cloak his identity from other supernaturals?”
“He wouldn’t, not normally.” My brother pulls a face, erasing his handsome appearance for a second. “Another supernatural may have done it to punish him. This is about the man you’re into? He’s not human, is he?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.” My trembling legs won’t hold me up, and I collapse back on the chair. “How do I protect him?”
