Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
O n the way downstairs, I adjusted the oversized scarlet sweater on my small frame, allowing the neckline to fall to the side, exposing my bare shoulder. It was too bad that Atlas hadn’t kept watching as I got dressed, he would have gotten quite the show as I bent over to shimmy into my black leggings. Instead, he chose what I’m sure he considered the honorable route by averting his gaze.
I’m unsure what got him and Sylas all riled up before I discovered them trading blows in the hallway. But one thing I was sure of was that the self-care session between myself and that vibrator had been desperately needed. Unfortunately, their inability to play nicely together interrupted my efforts to get off. If they had been good little angels, I would have invited them both in to play.
Now, I was stuck alone in my house with someone who was a stranger whom I used to be intimately familiar with. My brain still reeled from the discussion with Sylas and the explanation he had given me that in fact, the man in my home was the very same Atlassian I had watched murdered on that snowy mountain. No tricks or deceptive measures were being played.
Most humans found it awkward to run into an ex-flame a couple of years after a split. Imagine that magnified by hundreds of years. He may have looked the same, but he wasn’t the same—a cambion who got his angel wings. It was absurd. Shit, I wasn’t even the same woman he used to know. If he thought for one moment that I was, he was going to be leaving full of nothing but disappointment.
My bare foot hit the bottom step, and I realized that I needed a way to pass the time until Sylas returned that didn’t involve staring at Atlas while he twiddled his thumbs. I was ready to call out for Christina to entertain me until I recalled that Rook and Sy had dismissed all my human staff. Assholes.
Going into the kitchen, I rummaged through my pantry until I found a box of brownie mix. I snagged it from the shelf and prepared a space on the center island. Just as I pulled out an old metal paint tray from under the sink to bake them in, Atlas walked into the kitchen pulling his shoulder-length locks back into a neat ponytail.
Suppressing the dramatic sigh forming in my chest, I pressed on with the task at hand. This would be so much easier with one of my toys helping me. I dumped the powdery contents of the mix into a bowl. Atlas leaned a shoulder against the side of the fridge, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and watched me intently as I retrieved two eggs.
Not saying a word, I went back to the bowl and dropped both eggs, shell and all, into the mix. Reading the directions, it wanted two-thirds of a cup of vegetable oil. Who the fuck carried this shit and had it readily on hand? I opened a few drawers looking for the essential oils that Christina often raved about having healing properties. Finding the box of them, I pulled out a small vial of carrot seed oil. Not knowing what size cup to use, I dumped the entirety of the contents into the bowl just to be safe.
Interrupting my concentration on making a sweet treat, Atlas spoke up, “I missed you.”
Briefly, I paused in my steps, giving him the barest of glances before adding the three spoonfuls of water to my brownie mix. Using the very same spoon, I jabbed at the eggs and began mixing everything together. It seemed rather dry, but I was determined in my efforts to get it all combined.
Atlas left his spot by the fridge and came up behind me, peering over my shoulder as I worked.
“You know what I miss? Having help around here,” I bluntly stated.
He chuckled and reached around me, his hands easing the spoon and bowl from mine. “Here, let me help.” Atlas walked over to the trashcan and dumped my hard work into it.
“What are you doing?!” I shrieked as I ran over to him, my hand ripping the bowl out of his hand before shoving him.
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “There’s a reason why I used to do all the cooking. It seems your culinary skills haven’t improved any.”
Fuming that I would have to start all over, I marched over to the sink and tossed the bowl into it. A loud clatter rang out as the metal bowl hit the bottom of the stainless-steel sink. “Stop doing that.”
He raised a brow. “Stop doing what?”
I threw my hands up in the air. Wasn’t it obvious? “Bringing up what used to be.”
That’s right, Kinley. You don’t need to live in the past; you don’t need him. Look at all you have accomplished for me. He will only weaken your standing amongst the others in my ranks.
The Devil whispered in my mind, reminding me of my purpose.
“I’m just trying to make conversation. Isn’t there a part of you that wants to catch up on all that’s happened? We used to talk until sunrise and…” His voice trailed off while I stood there with a hand propped on my hip looking uninterested.
The longer I stood there looking at him, the more I had to convince myself that his return meant nothing and made me feel nothing. Look where my feelings got me centuries ago.
Dropping my hand from my hip, I walked past him, my shoulder unapologetically bumping his arm on my way by. “I’ll be in my office getting work done since I clearly won’t be taking you on as a client, Alex .”
Once I got into my office, I shut the door behind me, refusing to be distracted by Atlas’s presence. Flopping into the minimalistic black desk chair behind the oversized mahogany desk, I opened up my laptop and began scrolling through reports and updates. A side perk of the infotech industry was that it was a great front for gathering information on Lucifer’s other followers that were scattered throughout the country.
Encrypted status reports came in, allowing me to digest information relevant to Hell’s cause. Current hotspots where other fallen angels and demons were located included major metropolitan areas like Philadelphia but didn’t neglect smaller cities like Sauk Village in Illinois.
Burying myself in data and analytics for a couple of hours, my concentration was broken as my phone began buzzing on my desk, directly next to my hand. Glancing over at the screen, it was lit up with a picture of Z and I hugging with the sides of our faces pressed together while giving massive smiles. Her pitch-black locks looked aggressively jarring next to my light blonde tresses.
I tapped the speaker icon so I could continue using my fingers on my keyboard to send a few emails to a couple of the other representatives of Hell across the country.
“Hey, Z.”
Tiredly, her voice came through on the other end. “Lee-Lee, I’m calling to beg you to take mercy on me.”
My fingers came to a halt on the keys of my laptop for a second. With concern in my voice, I responded, “What? What’s wrong?”
“Woman! Please, stop fucking my brother,” she groaned.
I laughed, sitting back in my chair. “That’s why you called? I haven’t gotten laid in nearly a week.”
“It’s not funny.” The faint giggle at the end of her statement told me that she found it at least a little bit funny. “I haven’t been able to sleep all damn week, and I’m beginning to run out of names in my little black book of pussy.”
With a widening smile, I leaned forward and pulled up a few files on my computer. “That doesn’t sound like much of a problem to me. Congrats on getting laid all the time.”
She sounded fed up with my lack of empathy as she continued. “Ugh! It’s not just that. One minute, I’m blazing hot and then the next minute I’m hypothermic cold. How do you even function?”
“I have a thermostat,” I smirked at my snarky remark.
“You know damn well that’s not what I meant. Your emotions are like the most chaotic game of pinball I’ve ever experienced.”
With one final tap on the trackpad and blowing by her psychoanalysis of my emotional stability, I shut my laptop screen. “I just sent you some names from one of my client’s databases. She operates a kinky dating app service that sits on one of SIN’s servers. I’m sure you can find some backup fucks in there that suit your needs.”
Was it a breach of confidentiality? Absolutely. But Z could use the win right now.
Quietly, Zorah sighed before she accepted that I wasn’t about to cease my interactions with Rook any time soon. “Thanks,” she said begrudgingly. “You want to fill me in on what else is happening over there?”
Now, it was my turn to quietly sigh. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Lee-Lee, that’s not what I asked.” Her voice grew stern.
Pausing, I looked at my closed office door and knew that Atlas was somewhere just beyond it inside my home. I was unsure how much to dump onto Z, leaving me conflicted.
She interrupted my thoughts, “You can tell me, whatever it is.”
I suppose there was no hiding feelings from her these days like I did with everyone else.
My fingers played with a long strand of my hair, twirling it around my finger and then uncoiling it only to repeat the process. “Atlas has come back. According to Sylas, the human half of his cambion form was granted salvation. Someone decided he earned himself a set of wings.”
The stunned silence lingered so long on the other end of the line that I had to confirm the call was still connected.
“You’re…you’re serious? How’s that all working out? Does that mean you’re getting back together with him?” The disbelief in Z’s voice at least gave me validation that I wasn’t the only one struggling to digest the situation.
Defensively, I responded, “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s only here because he’s been given a set of orders to watch over me.”
Z gasped. “Wait, he’s there? Like, right now? In your house?” Her tone made it sound like the scandal of the year.
“Yes, Z, in my house. Just until Sy gets back.” I hadn’t heard any movement in the house, so I guessed he had found a way to busy himself. Perhaps he was whittling a beautifully intricate design into a piece of wood like he always used to when he was looking to pass the time.
Well, that prompted a whole other round of questions from my best friend, requiring me to fill her in on the special delivery and Sylas’s overreaction to my misplaced Divinity Sword.
She scoffed, unimpressed. “Sounds like Mr. Grumpy Pants hasn’t changed much,” Zorah observed. “Neither have you.”
I pinched my brows together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re sitting here talking to me when there’s a dick you haven’t seen in centuries just waiting for you in the other room? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Z,” I began as my fingers massaged my temples. “He’s not the same. I’m not the same.”
“Do you actually believe your own bullshit, Lee-Lee? You’ve managed to figure it all out after an attitude-ridden five-minute conversation with him? Pull your head out of your ass and stop tormenting yourself.”
Ouch. She could be harsh sometimes, but apparently this week she had zero tolerance for putting up with any of my shit.
Rolling my eyes, I picked up my phone. “You’re a bitch.”
“Love you, too.” Smooching sounds echoed through the line before she hung up on me.
Putting my phone away, I sat in my chair for another minute trying to rationalize keeping myself holed up in here a little longer.
That’s when my stomach gurgled and grumbled, reminding me that I never did get my brownies to hold me over. Great, I guess I had to venture out there anyway to get something to eat before I wasted away.
Glancing over at the set of windows to my right that peered into my backyard, the sun had just begun its descent. The blend of oranges and reds filled the sky with even the lightest touch of purple.
Momentarily lost in the beauty of the horizon, it suddenly struck me that a small billowing of white smoke was carried by the wind across my lawn. It was too low to the ground and too close to the house to be anything other than a fire somewhere in my backyard.
“What the hell…” I got up from my chair and rushed out of my office to see what had been set ablaze.