12. Ezekiel
12
Ezekiel
T he line went dead and my wings ripped from my back. “Nathaniel!”
Nate’s lilac eyes were suspicious as he stepped out of the kitchen, bowl in hand. “What?”
There was no time to explain. Grabbing his arm, I hauled him through the house. There was a smashing noise as he lost his grip on his bowl and it crashed to the floor. I didn’t pause, didn’t pay attention to the shit my wings were knocking off tables and walls.
No time. No time. No time.
When we were in Nate’s office, I shoved my phone into his hands. “Track this number for me.”
Nate was slow on the uptake, glancing down at the device. “Why?”
“Nate, do it.” Micah’s grim voice came from the doorway. I looked over to see that the entire unit was gathered, all nudging each other to try and see what was going on. Micah was at the front, arms crossed over his chest. “Fast.”
Nate kicked into high gear, going over to his workstation and tapping away at the keyboard.
I tried to thank Micah, but the words wouldn’t come out. He seemed to understand, coming to stand beside me and putting his arm around my shoulders. He had to duck around my wings, but he made it work. “It’s okay. Nate will find him.”
I nodded. It was all I could manage. My mind was fuck knew how many miles away. With Sam.
Was he okay? Was he hidden? Had he called the police? Who was in his house? Why? What did they want?
The ironic thing was that I’d been phoning Sam to try and cut things off. After seeing my mate and realising he wasn’t Sam, I’d known what I had to do. Not about my mate—right now I couldn’t even begin to think about him. The only thing I’d known for sure was that I couldn’t continue leading Sam on. It wasn’t right.
But then I’d heard the fear in his voice.
Nothing else mattered after that.
“Got it,” Nate said triumphantly, rattling off an address in Enfield.
I didn’t waste time going to one of the external doors. I barely had enough patience to open the window as opposed to just smashing through it.
In less than a second, I was in the sky, the wind pushing my wings faster. Behind me, I knew the Seraphim were following. Nox too, I suspected.
Part of me—the tiny part that was able to think about anything other than Sam—was so fucking grateful to be a part of this unit. They hadn’t stopped to ask questions. They didn’t know what they were about to face.
But they hadn’t hesitated.
All they knew was that something was wrong. That I was panicking about someone. It was enough to have them tailing me through the night, ready to do whatever was needed to help.
In under a minute, we were landing on a road of terraced houses. I didn’t need Nate to tell me which one was Sam’s. My instincts were guiding me. Pulling me towards him.
Go. Faster. Now.
All around me, compulsion nets filled the air, hiding us from view. I let my power free, unfurling it through the house. There were five humans downstairs, one upstairs.
Sam.
“Micah, five on the ground floor.”
“Got it,” Micah replied, coming up beside me. His power joined mine, compelling the five humans to freeze. “I’ll hold them, go get Sam.”
I could’ve burst into the house and killed them all instantly, but the last thing I wanted to do was scare Sam. God only knew how much fear he was already experiencing.
I’d get him to safety first, then I could focus on the ones who’d broken into his home. Who’d threatened the sanctity of his peace. Who’d besmirched his safe place.
The fuckers would pay. Make no mistake about that.
The front door fell open under a blast of my power. I tried to slow my steps, not wanting Sam to be frightened further, but I couldn’t. My very soul was dragging me up those stairs.
I flew into the bedroom, zeroing in on the wardrobe in the corner.
There was a muffled sob. It was so quiet. Almost silent.
But it roared through me like an explosion.
“Sam,” I croaked, running across the room. “Sam, it’s me.”
I yanked the doors open. Sam was curled up in the base of the wardrobe, both hands over his head. I couldn’t see his face as he shrank back against the back wall. “Please. Don’t hurt me.”
I fell to my knees, my heart cracking. “Sam, it’s me. It’s Zeke. No one’s going to hurt you, baby. I won’t let them.”
“Zeke?” He sniffed, his chin wobbling as he finally lifted it. “How the fuck did you find me?”
I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t speak. I could only stare.
Everything made sense, but at the same time, nothing did.
Sam was my mate.
Sam was the man I’d seen on the street earlier that day.
Sam was my mate.
“Zeke?” he whispered my name again. “Are you really here, or is my brain playing tricks on me?”
The need to reassure him, to care for him, went beyond what was normal. It was etched deep in my soul, like it had been dormant for centuries, waiting for this moment.
Waiting for Sam.
My fated mate.
I cleared my throat. All of that would have to wait. Right now, my priority was Sam’s well-being. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” he said in a hushed tone, his eyes darting from me to the door. “Maybe you should speak quieter. They might hear us.”
I gave him a tight smile. “Whoever they are, you don’t need to worry about them now.”
No, with my finely tuned hearing, I knew Micah and the others were cleaning house—quite literally. The humans had been removed from the property by the twins, while the others were now tidying the mess they’d left behind.
My temper tried to rise, knowing someone else was exacting the vengeance that belonged to me, but it was strangely easy to douse.
I didn’t need vengeance; I needed to make sure Sam was okay.
“Come on.” I got to my feet before stepping back to give him space. Everything in me was screaming to extend a hand to help him up. Or to fully lift him into my arms and carry him to safety, but I wasn’t sure if it would trigger Sam’s OCD or anxiety more than it already was.
Sam got to his feet warily, holding on to the sides of the cupboard as he stepped out. Now that my fear was receding, I could properly take him in. I’d thought him beautiful earlier in the day, but up close?
He was breathtaking.
My admiration was rapidly replaced by anger as I noted the tiny details. The dark curls, wildly arranged like he’d been pulling at them. The paleness of his skin. His green eyes which had been shining earlier that day, now dull and frightened.
“It’s okay,” I said gently. I balled my hands into fists to stop myself reaching from him. “You’re safe with me, Sam.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. He hadn’t taken more than a step away from his refuge, ready to dart back in at any second. “You shouldn’t be here. They might hurt you.”
The idea of any human being capable of hurting me was laughable. Except Sam, I realised.
He wouldn’t be able to physically hurt me. Emotionally though, that was a different story.
“They won’t hurt me,” I said. “I won’t let them hurt you either.”
“They will,” Sam said, tugging at his hair with both hands. To my horror, I realised how much he was shaking. “They’ll hurt you. It’ll be my fault. You have to leave. It’s all my fault. Myfaultmyfaultmyfault. ”
My eyes widened as Sam stumbled back against the cupboard. He was still mumbling those two words over and over.
My fault.
I moved instinctively as Sam began to sink to the floor. All the reasons why I shouldn’t touch him had flown out of the window in the face of his suffering. I knew nothing except the need to comfort him, to reassure him. If it seemed to cause him more distress, I’d release him immediately.
But that wasn’t what happened.
As I gathered him into my arms, both of his arms went around my neck. His fingers were digging into my shoulders. I carried him to his bed and sat on the edge. Once there, I cradled him on my lap, quietly whispering reassurances.
“I’m here.”
“You’re safe.”
“They can’t hurt me.”
“Everything is okay.”
Benji had been teaching me more about OCD over the past few days. One of the things that came up time and again was how difficult it could be for the person suffering to separate the rational from the emotional.
In a situation like this, where the perceived danger turned out to be real, I had to imagine it was even harder.
I had no idea what Sam’s brain was telling him, but I wasn’t going to let him face it alone. He had me now.
Even if he didn’t know that yet.
Eventually, his shaking subsided. He didn’t lift his head from where it was buried against my chest.
“Do you want me to stop touching you, Sam?”
He shook his head roughly. “No. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“You’re safe,” I repeated. “The fuckers who broke in here have been taken care of.”
Sam lifted his head at that, and the sight of his red-rimmed eyes socking me in the gut. “What do you mean, taken care of? What’s happened? Oh, god, I’m going to go to prison, aren’t I?”
In any other situation, this might’ve been considered an overreaction. I could even see myself laughing at it, maybe teasing whoever had said it.
But there was nothing funny about this.
“Sam.” I caught his chin in between my fingers, forcing him to meet my gaze. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you, I promise. You’re not going to prison. You’re safe.”
There was a light tapping at the door. I growled, letting my power seek out the visitor. When it returned to me, I begrudgingly called out, “Come in, Micah.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered as Sam stiffened. “He’s a friend.”
His blond head poked around the doorframe. “Sorry to interrupt. Figured you might want an update.”
At his appearance, Sam jumped from my lap, hurriedly swiping at his eyes with his sleeve. While he looked away, Micah raised his brows in question. Is he okay?
I shrugged helplessly. Physically, he was fine. Emotionally and mentally though?
Sam closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, it was like a different man stood in his place. I was left gaping at how his face had transformed, a pleasant smile now directed in Micah’s direction. “I’m terribly sorry that you’ve all been dragged into this. I’m Sam.”
“This is Micah,” I said, getting to my feet and side stepping between them before Micah could offer his hand to Sam. I didn’t want anything making him uncomfortable, especially not after this evening. “Is everything sorted downstairs?”
Micah flashed Sam what I liked to refer to as his politician smile. It was the one he used when great diplomacy or tact was called for. “All sorted. The gentlemen have been escorted from the premises and will not be returning. I believe they got this house confused with a local drug den. Their level of…inebriation may have played a part in this.”
Sam’s mask slipped slightly, the tremble returning to his hands. “Figures. It’s not the first time something like this has happened. I really need to find somewhere else to live.”
My blood boiled hot. “It’s not?”
Sam shook his head, his hand reaching towards me. I wasn’t sure he was even aware he was doing it. Taking it in mine, I used it to draw him to me, tucking him safely under my arm.
“I’ll, ah, leave you to it,” Micah said. “Text if you need us, Ez.”
I nodded curtly.
Micah shot one more friendly smile at Sam before leaving, closing the door behind him. Sam’s trembling eased, his head resting against my chest again. “Why did he call you Ez?”
I rubbed at his arm, unable to believe this was happening. That I’d met Sam. That I was holding him.
But most of all, I couldn’t believe that Sam was my mate.
Humans might believe that blessings rained down on angels, but I’d never thought that was the case. Not with how I was raised. Nor with how Micah had suffered for centuries before finding his mate.
But this? This proved all of that wrong.
I’d been blessed with Sam.
“My full name is Ezekiel,” I explained. “My friends tend to shorten it to Ez.”
He blinked up at me curiously. Sam wasn’t short. If I had to guess, he was around six foot. But like a lot of supes, my height was greater than most humans’. At six inches taller than him, I was the perfect height to tuck Sam under my arm.
“Not Zeke?”
I felt my cheeks colour. “No. Only you call me that.”
“Oh.” His tongue flicked out over his lower lip, making me wish for things I definitely shouldn’t have been thinking about right then. Like Sam on his knees, his tongue circling the head of my cock. “But it was your username when I joined the game.”
“Yes,” I said. “I don’t know why I’d picked it. Nobody has called me Zeke before, but when you started messaging me, I realised how much I liked it.”
“Then why haven’t you asked your friends to call you it too?”
I hesitated, wondering how many of my cards to show. I might have known Sam was my mate, but he wasn’t aware of that. He didn’t even know angels existed, let alone that he was fated to one. But I wanted to give him something. A sign of my interest—one that wouldn’t overwhelm him given everything he’d been through this evening. “Because I don’t want them to call me that. I like how it sounds on your lips, no one else’s.”
He ducked his head like he was trying to hide his smile, but I caught it.
It made me so fucking happy. Now I just needed to get him showing me his smiles. I needed to make him feel comfortable around me, so that he knew there was nothing he had to hide from me. I’d be beside him through everything.
My mate.
First though, there was a different matter to discuss. Namely, what Sam had said just before Micah had left. “What did you mean earlier when you said this isn’t the first time this has happened?”