Séptima Luna

by Gabbo De la Parra

  “There is a sign at the entrance, right by the wide, beast-looking bouncer stating ‘we reserve the right to refuse admission,’” Jack spat out, putting himself between Angel and Malachi.

  “I haven’t done anything to be refused.” Malachi answered Jack but kept his eyes on Angel.

  Before Jack could say another word, Angel swallowed the hard lump in his throat and touched his friend’s shoulder. “I’d handle this, boo. Thank you.”

  “You sure?”

  “I got it.”

  Jack left, not without making first that signal with his fingers pointing at his eyes and then at Malachi’s silently saying, “I’m watching you.”

  In other circumstances, the gesture would have been hilarious, since Jack was the poster boy for twinkness, almost a perfect third of Malachi’s total weight; weight that Angel suddenly needed on top of him.

  “Can I have a drink?” Malachi tried to charm his way using his dimples.

  “Sure. I created a cocktail in your honor, actually.”

  “Really, what is it?”

  “M.N.K.A. Malachi Neun King of Assholes, you fucker.”

  “If the worst thing that happened is a drink calling me an asshole, I consider myself a lucky bastard.”

  “King of Assholes,” Angel reiterated the specifics of Malachi’s kingdom. “I’ve also contemplated a bullet to your kneecap. That would really make me happy.”

  “You have been around Hugo Fox far too long.”

  “More than Hugo, it was a hundred and fifty mercenaries.” Still, Angel mixed a Sodomized Zombie and slammed the tall glass on the bar.

  Malachi drank the whole thing in one healthy gulp, then looked at Angel dead in the eye. “Will you ever forgive me?”

  “That’s gonna take a lot of groveling, and I’m talking the face on the floor kind.”

  “I can do that with you on top of me.”

  “Don’t try to be cute. It doesn’t suit you.” But Angel couldn’t suppress the half smile from blooming. Fuck, he’d missed Malachi like crazy; no amount of name calling and destruction could completely obliterate him from Angel’s heart.

  “In all honesty, what happened the other night sealed my resolution to come and beg for forgiveness.” Malachi took one of Angel’s hands, stationed on the wrong place (a.k.a. over the counter). “I could not live if something happened to you. You shouldn’t have thrown yourself at that man like a fucking superhero.”

  “What was I to do, scream like a pussy and let him stab that poor girl?” Angel pulled his hand away. “Not on my watch, mister.”

  “You weren’t even supposed to be here.”

  Angel didn’t want to analyze how Malachi knew all this. “I was, and it’s done.” But the suffering surfacing on Malachi’s face almost undid his decision to be rude until the darn astronomer left the premises.

  Malachi drew from his pocket an old-looking envelope and gave it to him. It only had one word written as addressee, “Mala.” That meant a bad woman.

  “What is this?”

  “A letter from my father, please read it. It’d give you an idea of why I did what I did.”

  The single page had been done in utilitarian, blocky handwriting. And it had been read a thousand times, by the looks of it.

  Dear Son:

  If you’re reading this, I died before I had the chance to have the most important conversation with you. I thought I had more time to let you be young and careless before putting the heavy weight of knowledge over your shoulders.

  One day, the same people who probably got rid of me will come to you and ask for your allegiance, and you will feel that it’s your duty to me to follow my steps. As your father, I encourage you to do so, but not for the reasons I did it, because I was wrong. So wrong, it has been a constant pain in my conscience since the day you were born.

  Grow to be a strong man in body and mind. Hone your abilities and aim always for the stars, because when the time comes, you will be the only one able to destroy them from the inside.

  War is in man’s heart like red is his blood, but that doesn’t mean that the war of one is more righteous or sacred than the other’s. The power to control an army doesn’t make your cause correct or just, simply gives you the ability to subjugate those against you.

  These people would try to use you as a tool to achieve supremacy, and you must be the cog to destroy the machine. Do everything in your hands to thwart their plans, no matter what and who you must forget on the road.

  I know I’m dumping on you the most fucked up task ever, and if I could only hope that these people would never contact you, I wouldn’t. But I’m sure they will seek you out, because they have their eyes on you since before you were fifteen.

  Now, because you’re reading this, I must have failed, and the only inheritance I’m truly proud to leave you is this mission, to undermine those I was part of all my life.

  I love you, my Mala.

  With trembling hands, Angel folded the letter and put it back inside the envelope, avoiding eye-contact with Malachi. His mouth was dry, and he wanted to yell and kick things.

  “In this letter was where my father said he loved me for the first time and also used the word fuck around me.”

  Well, this just sucks.

  “I want to believe you. But after so many lies, how do I know this thing is not just another deception?”

  “I have something else. Well, a someone, who can irrefutably vouch for me. I’m a man in love, but I didn’t delude myself thinking this would be easy.”

  “So you came with backup.”

  “As a former mercenary, you know that’s the way to go.”

  “I’m still a target, just another mission?”

  “The most important mission of my life. Not even what’s written on this letter matters anymore. I only need one thing to survive and it’s you.”

  “That’s a messed-up weight to put on somebody else’s shoulders.” Almost like the one Malachi’s father had dumped on him.

  “I want us to hold each other’s lives, Angel. I want to be yours, and I want you mine.”

  The letter had been a game changer, and the voice Angel heard in the back of his mind was Snyder’s, not Hugo’s. “Don’t surround your pain with hatred and turn it into something ugly.”

  “Okay. Who’s this person willing to corroborate your story?”

  “He’s outside, waiting for us.”

  “All right. Technically, I don’t work here anymore, but I cannot just jump out of the bar. I haven’t helped the boys during this conversation. Gimme an hour, and I’ll find you outside. I need some space now.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t say those words yet.”

  Malachi nodded and did a slow about-face, his slumped shoulders completely at odds with his usually imposing frame.

  Angel found Malachi, arms crossed and slouched against the backseat door of a car he didn’t recognize. As soon as he noticed Angel approaching, his posture improved and a shy smile flourished on his lips.

  “I’m all ears.”

  Malachi knocked on the top of the car, and the tinted window rolled down.

  “Hello, Angel.”

  Of course, Talh was a minor and couldn’t enter the club. Then Angel realized that Talh was part of the Brotherhood, and there was no reason for him to be around Malachi.

  “What is this? I thought Malachi was with Juggernaut.”

  “Would you please enter the car, and we can discuss it while we go for a ride?” Talh gave him one of those wise old man grins. “Mr. Neun, I’ll give you a call later.”

  Summarily dismissed, Malachi rested his eyes on Angel for a moment, supplicant and remorseful. He opened the door for Angel, taking the decision away from him. And Angel was thankful for that.

  “Drive to the beach, Mike.” Talh said as soon as Angel was seated beside him. Mike was the no-butler who had received Angel at The Brotherhood’s mansion in Prince Albert, turtleneck outfit included.

  “What’s
going on, Talh?”

  “You read the letter.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. “I assure you it’s real. Malachi Neun is not what you can call a double agent, but he is in our side.” He patted Angel’s knee. “It’s not like he comes to us with intelligence. However, he does everything in his power to wreak havoc in Juggernaut’s plans. Falling in love with you wasn’t part of his program, but nobody tells the heart what to do.”

  “You believe him when he says he loves me?”

  “I do.”

  Perhaps this was the moment to ask that burning question. “Are you an LE too?”

  Talh chuckled. “Took you long enough. I thought we were talking about you and Mr. Neun.”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “Okay. Yes. I have the soul of a beloved and revered Roman emperor.”

  Holy fuck.

  “But not your Hadrian. And even if it were Hadrian, it would not matter between us. Reincarnation love stories only happen in literature, movies, or songs. In real life, you might encounter people from your past but obviously without knowing it, perhaps to complete karmic interactions, not to continue a great romance.”

  Well, that was kind of a bummer. Angel could have denied it a million times, but the romantic in him wanted a transcendental love.

  “Don’t get me wrong. You can have the love to end all loves, but in this life as part of every other thing you need to accomplish as human—to have joy and passion and fulfillment.”

  “I see.”

  “I encourage you to give Mr. Neun the opportunity to prove himself worthy of your time and love.”

  They arrived at the beach, and the car stopped. There were bonfires, and people dancing and laughing. Angel had completely forgotten it was the night the vast population of Brazilians living in the city celebrated Nossa Senhora dos Navegantes, one of the many Catholic representations of Yemanjá, the goddess of the sea.

  And, by the goddess, he needed to open his heart, accepting what Destiny offered him.

  “Let’s celebrate the Queen, Talh.”

  The wise boy beside him winked. “With pleasure.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “It’s my fucking fault.”

  “Would you stop?” Malachi held Angel by the shoulders and shook him. “There was no way for you to know that would happen.”

  “Darn. I thought this shit was over.” Angel shrugged Malachi off and dropped into the nearby couch.

  Malachi knelt between Angel’s legs. It was really hard to watch him like this and not have a clue how to help him. “Baby, we all thought it was the human sacrifice of an LE, not the selfless act of one. You couldn’t know that saving that woman would create a gate.”

  “I acted out of instinct, and every time I do that, shit flies left, right and center.” Angel sighed and ran a hand down his face. “What are we gonna do?”

  There wasn’t much to do besides guarding the new gate. At least it was in the Brotherhood’s territory. “You have to focus on making our love work, instead of worrying about a gate to the otherworld.”

  “Seriously? That’s how you gonna make me forget about it? Pinpointing the fact that it could unleash a catastrophe?”

  The horror in Angel’s face would have been adorable, if Malachi weren’t aware of his lover’s frustration. Talh could have waited a week to let them have their reconciliation in peace, without thinking of threats to humanity and souls of former gods. Bad timing of the gate, to emerge on the fifth day after the assault.

  “Angel, please.” Malachi caressed Angel’s cheek. “Many esoteric and paranormal mysteries exist on Earth. The new gate in Septima Luna is just one more thing to add to that list. You can’t blame yourself for something that could have happened anywhere. A dozen LE’s are scattered around the world. Thanks to you, we can be vigilant here.” He kissed the furrowed brow. “I’m glad that fucker didn’t hurt you more and it was just a scratch.”

  Frankly, the bastard would be dead if that girl hadn’t pressed charges and he was protected in jail. The ferocious hunter in Malachi would not have rested until the idiot had paid for hurting Angel.

  “Yeah, but even that little spilled blood brought forward the darn gate.”

  Talh had just left, after giving them a lengthy explanation about the surfacing of the damn gate, and what the shamans and clairvoyants of the Brotherhood had understood about it. Something they hadn’t been able to do before because the others were so ancient. This was unprecedented and exciting for them.

  “The council has concluded it wasn’t the blood but the act of saving the girl. Enough of this. We cannot turn back time, and you need to stop blaming yourself, once and for all.” Malachi started unzipping Angel’s jeans. The body under his hands became stiff. Narrowed blue eyes and a hardened face stopped him.

  Still, Malachi knew how to make Angel submit. He pushed his body up, seeking Angel’s sweet, plump lips.

  “If you start fuck-kissing me, I swear I’m going to punch you. Trust me, a broken nose is not gonna make you hotter.”

  “You’re not gonna love me less, anyway.” Malachi brushed his mouth over Angel’s, and his little spitfire moaned. He took advantage of that tiny slip to probe with his tongue.

  The most delicious gate in the universe opened to accept him. His hands roamed Angel’s flanks under his shirt. Malachi stroked warm and inviting skin until Angel was writhing, lost in his touch. The decadent waltz their tongues danced was just the prelude to the undulations that would affect their bodies as soon as they got rid of their clothing.

  Sapphires flashed as Angel broke their kiss. “You’re not completely forgiven.”

  “I wasn’t expecting that.” Malachi was the luckiest man in the world, and he knew it. He’d not fuck up this opportunity.

  “You haven’t groveled yet.”

  Malachi grinned, unable to stop his mouth. “You mean in the sense that I haven’t given into excess and debauchery?”

  Angel punched Malachi on the shoulder. “No.”

  “Oh, I’ll be at your feet soon enough.” Malachi stood up and offered his hand to Angel. “C’mon.”

  The fleeting emotion on Angel’s face wasn’t hesitation but disappointment. “We don’t know when Hugo will come. What if he bursts in in the middle of it?”

  “I don’t see Hugo bursting in anywhere, unless he’s raiding a place.”

  Angel chuckled and accepted Malachi’s hand.

  Pulling Angel up, Malachi circled him with his arms. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you.” His lips coasted over Angel’s.

  “Darn astronomer, I love you too.” Angel grabbed Malachi’s butt. “Let’s storm each other’s bodies right now.”

  Malachi studied Angel with that determination that used to make Angel uncomfortable. They were in his room. A room he wasn’t ready to leave behind to start anew with Malachi somewhere else. The deceptions had been too many, and they were not easy to forget, but for the love he felt, he would do his best to accept that life wouldn’t always deal him messed-up hands (a.k.a. shit piles).

  Healing began with embracing his reality—he was in love. Angel was ready to believe this was good, until proven otherwise. And all the things Angel saw swirling in the chocolate abyss of Malachi’s eyes helped to ease his doubts, to appease his reticence.

  The back of Malachi’s thick fingers caressed Angel’s sides as he helped him out of his T-shirt. Never losing eye contact, Malachi unbuckled his belt, undid the zipper, and helped Angel to step out of his jeans.

  On his knees, Malachi unbuttoned his emerald shirt, a little smile forming on his thin, lovable lips. Once free of the restraining long-sleeved piece of clothing, Malachi folded his body and kissed both of Angel’s feet. “May everything sacred bless these feet which have guided you to me.”

  Shocked and humbled, Angel was about to open his mouth to protest when Malachi kissed his thighs. “May everything sacred bless these legs which support you on the voyage we embark together.” />
  Ready for the attention, Angel’s cock jutted proudly and throbbed lightly with Malachi’s kiss on its tip. “May everything sacred bless your manhood which gives me bliss when we make love.”

  Pulling his body upward, Malachi kissed over Angel’s heart. “May everything sacred bless this heart so it might accept the immensity of my love.”

  Softly, Malachi kissed one palm, then the other. “May everything sacred bless your palms which command my skin.” He kissed each of Angel’s biceps. “May everything sacred bless these arms which hold and comfort me.” These actions weren’t just unwonted but frightening.

  The gentle touch of lips felt like a storm rattling Angel’s already sensitive body. “May everything sacred bless these lips which speak my name and give me tenderness.” Goosebumps exploded as Malachi kissed each of Angel’s ears. “May everything sacred bless these ears which welcome the love for you in my words.”

  Angel’s nose was next. “May everything sacred bless this nose which breathes in the aromas of nature, the presence of the gods, the fragrance of our passion.”

  A kiss was placed on each of Angel’s eyes, and he heard deep, resonating words as he opened them. “May everything sacred bless these eyes which behold the spark of the gods within me.” Cradling Angel’s face with both hands, Malachi kissed his forehead. “May everything sacred bless your mind so we can share our ideas and be fruitful.” With his thumbs doing circles over Angel’s cheek, Angel looked upward. “Bless him, Mother, Father, for he is your son and my love.”

  When they locked eyes again, Malachi’s eyes were glistening, a dam ready to overflow. And Angel knew (by the blurriness of his own vision), he was in the same state.

  “Should I do the same?”

  “Someday you’ll be ready.”

  Angel could only nod. This felt like an enormous step, and Malachi was right, a day would come when Angel could embrace the love he felt freely, without apprehension.

  Malachi wiped his eyes with the back of his hand in a swift motion and chuckled. “For now, I’m going to take care of this bad boy.” He descended unhurriedly until he was in position to attend to business. His smile was radiant and engaging. “The Universe relish in our pleasure,” he held the shaft at mouth level, “and pleasure is what we gonna get.”