Chapter 24 #2
“Much obliged, my good man,” he said, then jerked his chin toward Zephyr. “And hey, take care of that one. They’re a rare kind.”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “I’m starting to notice.”
Zephyr rejoined me, sparkling with delight. “Did you see that? He was so good. I think he actually made that card disappear.”
“Mm,” I hummed. “Or you were too busy swooning to notice when he palmed it.”
He gave me a look—half exasperated, half amused. “You’re no fun.”
“Never claimed I was,” I said. “Still respect the hustle, though.”
We started walking again. Zephyr’s hand brushed mine twice before I caught it to hold. Pain stabbed through my finger, stemming from the old bite wound, and I glanced down to check it. It appeared the same, with only faint scars as evidence of the event that was almost comical in hindsight.
“What was Mazzy talking about?” Zephyr asked as we moved, crunching on the remnants of his lollipop. “What he wants from you? Fairmont?”
I rocked my head back in a nod. “Fairmont Street. Property. It’s not here, but close, though. Adjacent. Unclaimed.”
“Who would claim it?”
“Your boss, apparently.”
Zephyr frowned. “Why?”
I turned to lead him through a narrow gap in foot traffic while talking over my shoulder. “Because he’s a greedy motherfucker with no good sense.”
When I pulled him alongside me again, consternation furrowed his brow.
Maslow’s greed and objective stupidity were hardly news, but given how new Zephyr was to the world, there must have been a million things he didn’t know.
He’d been stored in a glorified bell jar for months, rendered powerless and ignorant.
It was not a condition I intended to let stand.
Slowing to a stop, I maneuvered us out of the walking path so we could see all the way up and down the boulevard.
“You see this street?” I gestured ahead. “Consider it a dividing line. You’ve got demons on one side, angels on the other.”
“Angels?” Zephyr’s eyes went round, and he glanced up like he expected the feathered fiends to flutter by or coast down from the clouds. I scoffed at the thought.
“They’re a bit of a rogue’s gallery,” I said. “Some are harmless and exactly what you’d expect from Heaven’s finest. The rest are a bunch of bastards.”
My look across the lanes of cars lined up bumper to bumper became a bitter scowl, and I was nearer than ever to telling Zephyr about Stefano.
Strange how I’d put him out of my mind for decades and now he felt unavoidably present.
A skeleton in my closet and a shadow looming over my potential happiness.
“Have you heard of Antonella Rossetti?” I asked Zephyr, still dodging the subject but coming dangerously close.
Zephyr shook his head.
I motioned along the boulevard past the Cosmo Tower to the sprawling Basilica Resort and Casino property. “That’s her place up there,” I said. “With the fountains.”
The Basilica was arguably the crown jewel of Las Vegas.
Its hotel tower soared above the Strip, pale stone and gilded accents gleaming in daylight and glowing beneath LEDs after dark.
Out front, a sprawling water feature bordered the sidewalk, launching jets over four hundred feet into the air in choreographed bursts set to music.
Beside it, the casino boasted a domed roof and leaded glass windows reminiscent of an old chapel.
“It’s beautiful,” Zephyr said.
I couldn’t disagree.
“You should see the inside,” I replied. “But don’t. If they catch you in there, they’ll run you out on a rail.”
“Do what?” His eyebrow arched at the outdated expression, but I waved him off.
“The angels keep to their own, and we keep to ours. But remember the name, because if you do ever run into a Rossetti, go the other way.”
He looked at me sidelong. “You know a lot about angels?”
“More than I’d like,” I said, voice flat. “I’ve lived a long time, and with time comes regrets.”
“Regrets about angels?”
“One in particular,” I admitted.
I went quiet for a moment, considering whether I wanted to say more. I didn’t talk about this. I never talked about this. But it felt nice, somehow? Like a breath I’d been holding and could finally let out.
“I thought he was different.” I tested the words. “I thought we were, but I was the different one. He was just more of the same.”
“Were you in love with him?”
“Yes.” The word came out easily, and I was surprised it didn’t sting. “But not anymore.”
Zephyr nodded in understanding, and we resumed our stroll.
He looked down, watching his new shoes scuff along the pavement while his forehead creased with contemplation.
“I’m glad you’re different. I didn’t like the other demons in Hell…
” He trailed off, then glanced away with a faint blush. “Is that rude to say?”
My laugh came sharp and humorless. “Why do you think I stayed here?”
Throughout my own history, I’d been the common denominator in a thousand burned bridges and a thousand broken things. Maybe it wasn’t Hell, Heaven, or humanity that was the issue. Maybe it was me.
“No demons, no angels…” I ticked them off. “I don’t hold much fondness for humans either. It’s starting to sound like I’m the problem.”
Zephyr’s lips pursed. “I don’t think you’re a problem.”
I considered his gentle smile, his honest eyes, and the way he held my gaze like he meant every word. And something in me was so damn grateful I had to say it out loud.
“Thank you,” I said.
Nodding, Zephyr looked ahead at the Basilica’s sprawling property. His lollipop had been reduced to a stick pinned between his teeth as he watched the fountains, tracking the spray like he was memorizing its pattern. The heat pressed in on us, and the Strip hummed with life, but he’d gone still.
After a few minutes, he shifted closer, his shoulder nudging mine. “Beck… I’m hungry.”
It had been a few hours since lunch, but I knew his request was not for fine dining. His pale countenance had an ashy tint, and the shadows around his eyes were dark. He leaned into me, blocking foot traffic as his head rested heavily on my chest, tucked beneath my chin.
What could I do but hold him? We paused amidst the thoroughfare, and I didn’t expect him to move until I did. I’d known about his needs when we left the Dollhouse, but our time together had gotten away from me.
The shopping mall where we’d bought his shoes was nearby, a reprieve from the desert air and a good place to wait for a ride back to my hotel suite.
Wrapping one arm around him, I used the other to pull out my phone. “I’ll ask Colette to bring the car around. Come with me.”
I fired off a quick text, then steered Zephyr toward the steps leading into the mall.
His body relaxed, and there was a heaviness to it, weight he counted on me to bear as we made our way into the building.
We found a bench near a small garden area and sat.
Zephyr curled against me, seeking comfort I was more than willing to provide.
I was wanted. Needed. And it meant something that he felt comfortable enough to ask. That blind faith had won me over to him from the beginning. He believed in me as a provider, and I was beginning to realize how much I craved that.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
His fingers curled into my shirt. “Don’t apologize. It’s been a good day.”
While we waited for Colette, my nerves stirred to life.
I’d told Zephyr that our impromptu date was a novel occurrence, but taking someone back to my suite—my home—was even rarer.
I hadn’t considered sleeping arrangements when I’d bought this time from Maslow, but now it seemed only logical to spend the night with Zephyr nestled beside me.
With so many hours ahead of us, I could indulge him, enjoy him, and I was ready to begin.