“Hey, Dumb and Dumber.”
It took a second for either of them to react to the insult. Jason shoved Lake against the locker again. Extra care was taken to make sure his face was pressed against the metal. The students passing walked faster.
“You need to learn some respect, River,” Jason growled.
“I’m working on it, but it’s hard when you two make it so easy,” Lake retorted.
His backpack torn from him and tossed aside. The brothers grinned as they crammed Lake into his locker. His teeth vibrated as the door banged shut.
Jason looked through the slots. “That ought to teach ya.”
“Have fun,” Vincent laughed.
Lake didn’t move as the two bullies left him. He didn’t call out to the passing students. Not even to plead for someone to get a teacher. He learned long ago help wouldn’t come. Either the teachers didn’t care or the classmate he asked never relayed the message. He wondered if deep down the people around him knew he wasn’t like them. Not that it made the shunning easier to endure.
The bell rang for class. Lake entertained the thought of staying in the locker. What if he died? How long before someone would notice the smell and open the door to investigate? Everyone would probably be happy he was dead. They’d throw a party.
I’m part angel, better than them.
He banished the bitterness and focused on the thought. The space in the locker shrank as he released the cold and his wings sprouted. He laid his hand against the metal and concentrated on lifting the handle with his power. The door popped open and he stumbled out. A quick glance around reassured him no one was present to witness him in his current state.
They would see your power and be afraid, the voice whispered.
Shut up, Lake replied. He caged the cold and headed for the exit. The doors banged against the walls as he shoved through them. I don’t need them to be afraid of me, and I don’t need school.
He made his way through the city. A knot had formed in his side by the time he reached Tyler’s apartment. Tyler would be home, since he was out of a job. A fire had destroyed Mistress Valerie’s club. It had been all over the news yesterday. The only survivor of the blaze was the bouncer who assaulted Lake, and he was in the hospital in a coma.
Unsurprisingly, Tyler didn’t answer Lake’s knock. He knocked for five minutes straight before giving up. He would have to find a different place to hide if he didn’t want the cops to catch him for truancy.
Only a few more months and that won’t matter. Lake struggled to smile at the thought.
His high school graduation was marred by his birthday the same week. He would turn eighteen, and then what? His mother would no longer get welfare checks for him. He didn’t know if she would kick him out. The streets he spent so much time on might be his new home soon.
Eventually, he found himself in the park. The trees and green always instilled the small area with peace and soothed any fears bothering Lake. The sounds of the city seemed far away, his problems someone else’s. He walked on the grass as opposed to the sidewalk. Why walk on hard cement that hurt his feet? A golden retriever bounded up to him, its tail whipping back and forth. It jumped up to hand him a Frisbee. When he scratched the dog’s ears, it leaned against him and almost knocked him over with its weight.
“Ginger!” The owner, an athletic woman in too-tight shorts hurried over. She eyed Lake suspiciously as she reached for the Frisbee, as if he planned to steal the chewed-up disk. He handed the toy over. She took it and left without saying thanks. A bitter memory forced its way to the front of his mind as she led the dog away.
In seventh grade, Lake’s teacher assigned the class to write about a happy moment and give an oral presentation. He had sat in his bedroom, staring at the blank piece of paper. There wasn’t a single happy moment he could recall. The closest was the foreign coin he found, but he felt stupid writing about it. His classmates would laugh at him. In the end, he refused to write it and took the F. As he listened to his classmates talk about happy moments, anger shook his body, and a seed of resentment planted itself in his mind, filling his thoughts and trying to rule his emotions. That day, the small voice was ruthless in its mocking.
“Stop thinking,” he muttered.
He found a bench to sit on and stared at the ground. People passed, no one paying him any attention. He counted the number of different sneakers, if only to distract him from the acidic thoughts eating him. A warm breeze ruffled his hair when a pair of feet stopped. The shoes were well-kept, lightweight running shoes. They looked expensive.
He could only imagine owning clothing that cost more than ten dollars and was less than five years old. Even though he didn’t want to, he looked up. The blond man stood before him, his blue eyes digging into him. Lake dropped his gaze before any emotions could be laid bare this time. “Can I help you?”
“I think you’re the one who needs help,” the man replied.
Chapter Three
Michael’s words propelled the teen to his feet. His hands turned into fists, the skin over his knuckles going bone white. Cold rage slammed against Michael like waves and made goose bumps race up his spine.
“Fuck off!”
The teen turned to storm away, but Michael stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
The teen looked at the hand clutching his arm. An emotion flitted across his face, but it passed too quickly for Michael to catch what it was. “Well, you did a shit job of it.”
“Let me make it up to you. I’ll buy you something to eat.”
“I’m not a charity case. Go find someone else to make yourself feel good about helping.” He yanked free of Michael’s grip and stalked across the grass.
Michael followed, easily keeping pace once he caught up. He gave a kind smile that was returned with a glare. Hate swirled around the teen, darkening the air. No one that young should be so full of anger. It oozed from his pores.
“My name is Michael.”
A grunt was the reply.
Michael didn’t let it deter him. “But my friends call me Mike. Sometimes Mikey, but I’m not fond of those nicknames. I like Michael the best. It sounds mature, don’t you agree?”
“I don’t care what your name is or why you like it or any of that stupid shit. Leave me alone.” The teen broke into a jog.
Michael kept up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a police officer take notice of them. He picked up his pace and grabbed the teen’s arm again.
“Hey! Lemme go!”
Michael steered him toward the park’s exit. “Do you want to get busted for skipping school?”
The teen looked around, spotting the cop. His resistance vanished and he let Michael lead him out of the park. Only when Michael pulled him into the café where he and his brothers spent their free time drinking coffee did the teen hesitate. Michael urged him to keep moving, guiding him to a booth.
Anna appeared as if on cue. “Hey, Mikey. Surprised to see you here alone. Where are your brothers?”
“They’re busy, and I’m not completely alone.” Michael motioned to his companion.
Anna turned to the teen and the kindness disappeared from her expression. She turned back to Michael. “The usual?”
“And a menu for my friend.” Confusion crossed the teen’s face.
Anna pulled a menu from her apron and set it on the table before rushing off. Michael had never seen her treat a customer coldly. She usually had a smile and a hello for everyone.
Dismissing her unusual behavior, he settled back. “Order anything you want.”
The teen raised an eyebrow. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
Anna returned with Michael’s coffee. She hesitated before addressing the teen. Her smile was forced and her voice lacked her usual cheer. If anything, she sounded annoyed. “What do you want?”
“Grand Slam breakfast with pancakes and French toast. A side of bacon and ham. Cheeseburger with bacon, jalapenos, and the works, side of fries,
and a large pop.” The teen’s expression dared Michael to go back on his word.
“Anything else?” Anna asked, her tone condescending.
Anger flashed across the teen’s face, but his voice was pleasant. “Can I get breakfast first, please?”
“Sure,” Anna replied acidly, then hurried off.
Michael didn’t speak. He sipped at his coffee. A grin tried to lift his lips but he fought it. In five, four, three, two…
“My name is Lake Divine.”
“Pleased to meet you, Lake Divine.”
Lake gawked at Michael as if a third eye had sprouted on his forehead. His reaction indicated that no one ever had said those words to Lake. No one was pleased to meet him. After Anna’s hostile reaction, Michael found it easy to believe. Anna was the kindest, most welcoming waitress he had ever met.
Anna returned, expertly balancing the first part of Lake’s order. Two plates of pancakes and French toast, another small plate with bacon and ham. She set the soda down last. Lake muttered thanks, but Anna ignored him.
“Tell me about yourself,” Michael suggested as he watched Lake shovel food into his mouth. When was the last time he had eaten? Definitely a while, judging by how thin he looked.
“What’s there to tell?” Lake replied. He took a long drink from the soda before going back to the food.
“Are you homeless?”
Lake froze with the fork halfway in his mouth. A glare darkened his features. “Why does it matter?”
Michael shrugged. “It doesn’t. How about this: how old are you?”
The glare deepened. “Twenty one.”
“Bull,” Michael replied. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have freaked at the cop.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to get caught because I’m a criminal with a warrant out for my arrest. Maybe I was planning on robbing you.”
“I wouldn’t mind. You look like you could use some cash. All I’d ask is you get yourself a good meal,” Michael replied coolly.
The answer wiped the anger off Lake’s face. “I’ll be eighteen in a couple of months.”
The words held an underlying fear, as if Lake didn’t know what his fate would be when he reached that mark. Michael had no idea how to respond. He didn’t know Lake well enough to offer words of support. Lake returned to his food, cleaning all three plates in time for the burger and fries to arrive. He pulled the top off the burger and removed the tomato. Generous amounts of ketchup and mustard were added before the top was replaced. He froze with the burger poised before his mouth. Timidly pushing the fries towards Michael, he muttered, “You can have some if you want. I don’t think I can eat it all.”
***
The empty plates were piled on the table. Michael’s coffee had been refilled for a fifth time. Caffeine buzzed through his system, causing one foot to tap a frantic beat. The crash was going to be hell. Across from him, Lake was slumped back in the booth, his hands folded over his stomach. He had eaten all but five French fries. He looked better now. Pink flushed into his cheeks and gave him color. His drink was half full, and he downed it in one gulp.
“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much.”
“You look like it,” Michael observed.
Lake shrugged, avoiding Michael’s eyes. “I get three meals a day. They just aren’t always the greatest.”
“And a bed to sleep in?”
Lake stared at the table, absently toying with a fork. “I have a home…kinda. My mom’s a drunk, so I have to look after myself.”
“What about your father?”
“What father?”
The two words held the majority of the anger and hate Michael glimpsed in Lake. He reached across the table and took Lake’s hand. Lake stilled, his eyes locked on their hands. Tears formed and Lake’s breath shook. He tried to speak, opening and closing his mouth several times.
“I better go,” he whispered finally.
He rushed out of the café, his head down and fists clenched at his sides. Michael threw enough money to cover the bill and tip on the table, then followed. He didn’t let Lake get far. “Lake, wait—”
“Everyone leaves me,” Lake blurted out. “They all look at me like I’m a freak. Why should you be any different?”
He pushed Michael into the shadows of an alley, the distance between them vanishing. The ability to function left Michael, and his thoughts ground to a halt at the feel of Lake’s mouth on his. He still couldn’t move when Lake stepped back.
“Thank you.” Lake whispered, turning away.
Desire exploded in Michael’s chest like a bomb. He grabbed Lake, pulling his thin frame against him and crushing their lips together. The taste of Lake on his tongue sent shivers down his spine. He moaned, hungry for more.
Michael.
He stumbled back, chest heaving and heart racing. His fingers brushed his lips and the lingering warmth. Without a word, he raced back to the hotel.
His heart continued to pound as he paced the empty room. What had happened back there? Why did he kiss Lake? Another man!
Michael bolted to the bathroom, throwing the water on and splashing it against his skin, but the cold water couldn’t douse the heat burning in him. The kiss had ignited a fire within him, desire racing through his veins, coursing to his groin. His eyes screwed shut, he leaned against the sink, taking deep, calming breaths, but his thoughts continued to rage.
What had come over him? Why would he commit such a sin? A man should not lie with another man. It was written in the Bible. There had to be an explanation. He must have tripped…Yeah, it was an accident. He had fallen forward and unintentionally kissed Lake.
Nothing happened.
Struggling to maintain the thought, Michael straightened. His jeans rubbed against the erection throbbing beneath his zipper. The friction caused a wave of pleasure to roll through him.
He should touch it.
Michael banished the idea. He had never pleasured himself, never given in to the temptation.
But the thought kept whispering to him, urging him to surrender. He dug his nails into his palms to still his twitching fingers. Sweat beaded across his brow and his hands ached from clenching them. The muscles in his legs and shoulders cramped as he forced himself to remain still and wait out the storm.
One touch wouldn’t hurt, would it?
The question meant he was giving in. He couldn’t stop himself as he squeezed the bulge beneath the tight denim. A groan vibrated in his throat. He fumbled with the button and zipper, clumsily pushing his jeans down. Excitement filled his stomach as he reached into his boxers and wrapped his fingers around himself. Moans filled the bathroom as he stroked faster and harder. He didn’t stop even when he felt moisture spurt from the tip.
Finally, he released himself, gasping for breath. Semen coated his skin like slime. He turned to the still-running water to clean himself.
What would it feel like to have another do that? What would it feel like to have Lake touch him?
Arousal roared through him again at the image of Lake running his long fingers over him. He grabbed himself, yelling in ecstasy as the emotion washed over him a second time. For a long time, he didn’t move, gripping his fading erection.
Pulling himself up on shaky legs, Michael repeated the process of cleaning up. He kept his mind carefully blank this time as he stripped off his soiled clothing. Wrapping them in a towel, he shoved them behind the toilet.
Guilt and humiliation weighed heavily on him as he dressed. He trudged to the bed and sat. He was supposed to be the strong one. The leader above all temptations. How could he face his brothers after this? Resting his elbows on his knees, he waited for them to return. It didn’t take long. Their smiles died when they saw his mournful face.
Zade knelt before him. “Dude, what happened?”
Michael took a deep breath. Keeping secrets wasn’t an option. Not when it was his brothers. He faced them. “I sinned.”
Chapter Four
Devotion.
Dis
cipline.
They were essential for Michael and his brothers to succeed in their duty. He stressed the fact time and time again as he effortlessly filled the roll of leader. Because of him, they never strayed, their focus razor sharp. Now he felt destroyed, unable to find the path he had stumbled from.
Father, help. I need strength.
Silence answered; Metatron’s voice was absent from his mind. The lack of communication made his nerves chatter. Ever since that moment in the alley with Lake and the resulting lack of morals in the bathroom, he had been lost. Doubt made him question everything he knew to be true. Now more than ever he needed guidance. Why wouldn’t his Father answer?
“Mike?” Joe whispered.
Michael forced his fear back and focused on his brothers. Worry for him creased their faces. He confided in them about what he had done. Even the kiss was mentioned, albeit briefly, and he left out Lake’s name and gender. His spirits were lifted when they rallied around him and reminded him of their own lapses into sin. Joe reminded him of how he helped each of them back onto the path when they fell off. Zade had the most comforting words.
“Everyone strays, but is always forgiven.”
Repeating the comforting phrase, Michael summoned his sword. “Follow my lead.”
They rushed into the small apartment. The five Fallen were easy work, destroyed in a matter of minutes. Michael felt his mind focus as he fought. His worries disintegrated with the bodies. The burst of confidence was a welcomed feeling, a sign he was going to be okay. He was on the path again.
“Hey, Mike,” Gabe called from the bedroom.
Zade and Joe followed Michael. Symbols were drawn on the walls and candles covered the floor. In the corner was a small shrine. A plastic red devil toy with a pitchfork sat inside.
Michael tossed the toy aside. “This is an insult to our brother.”
“They were up to something.” Zade picked up a slim journal. He flipped through it, frowning. “What I can read doesn’t say much.”
Michael (Path of Angels Book 1) Page 3
