Chapter Ten
“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul—and sings the tunes without the words—and never stops at all.”
—Emily Dickinson
Eve.
That was her name.
Strange that it came to Ben after only a slight hesitation. He never could recall it before, just like he could never recall her face.
Now, a faint impression of her lingered in his mind.
Her pale face had flushed with rosy color when he looked her way. It reminded him of a blotchy rash rather than a girl’s becoming blush. But, for some reason, he was pleased to have put it there.
Her strange colored eyes had glinted like an animal’s in the night. Distinctly other. In truth, if it hadn’t been for those eerie eyes, glowing from the shadows of the restaurant, he might not have seen her right away, despite the direction indicated by the server.
When their gazes connected, he barely prevented the visceral physical reaction that rocked through him. Like taking a direct blast of dragonfire to the chest. He felt knocked off his feet even though his body hadn’t moved.
He knew her.
No matter her form—Seven, Lilith, Eve, Ruth, Michael—he knew her.
Back in his hotel room, he turned in for a fitful rest. In the early hours, he’d awakened covered in sweat, covers kicked off, sheets tangled around his hips and legs. He stripped the bed and took another cold shower before heading out in a ratty old T and shorts before dawn for a two-hour run around the river.
There was too much turmoil inside of him. Lost and found memories churning in his head. Tension weighing down his gut. Skin and muscles burning with need. And all of it wrapped in exhaustion, for he hadn’t been able to sleep well for weeks (alcohol-induced unconsciousness notwithstanding).
Maybe he hadn’t slept well for months, if not years. Ever since he recovered his Truth.
By the time he returned to his room, the sun was just starting to creep over the horizon. It was still mostly dark out. And he was yet again covered in sweat. But at least it was the sweat of exercise instead of more…unpleasant things.
As he entered and the door automatically clicked shut behind him, a piece of half-folded paper on the floor caught his eye. It was the hotel’s luxurious, embossed stationery, he could tell. But usually, when the staff sent him welcome greetings or notices, they were put in an envelope on his desk.
He picked it up and read:
Dear Benjamin,
(I am not sure why humans write letters with this salutation, even to perfect strangers, but I am trying to be human, and this is my first letter, so here goes.)
I would certainly like to call you “dear.” In fact, technically, you are “dearest” to me across the whole of my heretofore immortal existence. I used to think that honor belonged to my Twin, but now I know that is simply narcissism.
That being said, in all honesty, I don’t know if my “dear” means the same as the average person’s “dear.” I covet and I possess. I do not know how to cherish and respect. But, for you, I am willing to learn.
If only you would give me the chance.
Sincerely,
Seven
(a.k.a. Eve. a.k.a. Michael. But you can call me Seven to avoid confusion.)
P.S. Open your door now and look down. You will find a small token of my appreciation. I have seen in movies, and in peering into my mirror pond, that courtship often begins with flowers. But a dozen or even many dozens of roses can’t convey the uniqueness and very personal nature of my regard for you. So, I have made you something from my own imagination. I hope you like it.
Intrigued despite himself, Ben opened the door and looked down.
At his feet was a paper origami basket with an orchid blossom inside. But the construction wasn’t like anything he’d seen before. It was intricately designed and woven with multi-colored paper. It reminded him of the fantastical sights from the Celestial Realm.
Beguiling and surreal. A bit like its maker.
Beneath the orchid, there was a small carefully folded slip of paper. It said:
Will you go on a date with me today?
Ben looked up and down the empty corridor, half expecting Seven to pop out from the walls asking the question in person. But there was no one. The sound-proof walls also ensured that these halls were perfectly quiet.
He came back into his room and sat down on the couch facing a dazzling view of the river. But he only had eyes for the letter and the slip of paper in his hands. He read and reread them so many times, he might as well have been deciphering hieroglyphics.
A once-god, now-human…person…wanted to court him?
And she’d painstakingly hand-written notes to declare her intentions. The script was small and neat, so perfect it could have been a typeface. Each letter that repeated was replicated in almost exact copies; each line of text, straight and even. The only way he could tell that she wrote it instead of printed it was the slight impressions the ballpoint pen she used made in the thick, high-quality paper.
It was so unexpected he didn’t know how to react. In all the incarnations that he’d known Seven’s soul, the deity had only ever made demands. Never asked permission. Their relationship had never been equal.
The closest they’d come was when Seven was Lilith, and he was a leopard Beast. Her pursuit of him at the time had been more akin to a ruthless predator hunting prey rather than the organic evolution of romantic feelings. He’d let her have him in the end. They’d Mated. Had a family together.
Until she’d forsaken him after he was captured by the Dark Queen Ashlu to be her Blood Slave.
Ben’s body racked with pain at even the mere whisper of the memory in his mind. He would never forget the glare of disgust and hatred in his Mate’s eyes when she saw him defiled against his will.
As if he’d wanted it. As if he could do anything to stop it.
She’d blamed him anyway. She’d shown how breakable her love was. How conditional.
Just as Byakko had weakened and died when the Pure Goddess rejected him, so too did the leopard Beast die that day. Ashlu’s ultimate execution of him had been a mercy.
Will you go on a date with me today?
Ben shook his head.
Avoiding her wasn’t the answer. And he was done being a coward. He’d had a couple weeks to avoid reality. It was time to get his shit together.
More importantly, it was time to find out what her role was in all of this—the war that he could feel brewing on the horizon. What did she know? Was she friend or foe?
With that in mind, he penned his own note back and put it against the wall beside his door. When she saw it, she’d know where to find him.
~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~
Seven,
I am glad you are on the journey to discover your humanity. That is the most important aspect of being “human.”
While our souls might have been acquainted in past incarnations, I suspect that we’ve never known one another. Not truly. With knowing comes a depth of understanding and trust. Mutual respect and caring.
And so, this is where I propose we begin—getting to know each other. A fresh start. As potential allies if not friends.
With that in mind, and in answer to your question: not today.
However, I intend to have lunch at the markets on Charoen Krung road around noon. Perhaps I might bump into you there.
Ben
P.S. Thank you for the basket. You have a gift for creating beautiful things.
It might have been Eve who found the note, but it was Michael who digested it. While Eve was strangely disappointed with the kind but firm rebuff, Michael was only intrigued.
Ben clearly distanced himself in the letter, as effective as holding Seven at arm’s length. Or maybe even farther than that. Maybe he’d shoved her beyond a thirty-foot stone wall guarded by deadly archers while he remained safely within an invisible fortress.
And yet, he’d left the drawbridge down. Perhaps he’d send a small cavalry out to greet her, the enemy envoy. Perhaps they’d even negotiate a treaty on neutral grounds.
That’s what it felt like.
The fact that Benjamin engaged at all gave Seven hope. He could have ignored her, the way he’d done the night before. But he wrote back.
This was the first letter Seven had ever received. There were so many firsts when it came to this male.
And all of them had been good.
The only time he’d left a bitter impression was when the Dark Queen Ashlu had taken him. He’d betrayed Lilith then. A Pure Mate should not have been able to be Claimed as a Blood Slave by someone else. His Mate would have had the first and primary Claim.
But the Dark Queen had taken him anyway. His body. His blood. His seed.
Didn’t that prove that his love for Lilith wasn’t real? Wasn’t true?
As if the memory was separate from herself, her Twin’s not her own, Seven shoved it into the back of her mind. It was a very long time ago, after all. And it wasn’t a first. Everyone she’d ever known had betrayed her in one way or another. Even her creators kept secrets from her, tried to control and contain her.
They’d kept her from herself.
Was Lilith gone now? Destroyed once and for all by the Black Dragon almost two decades ago?
Seven didn’t feel her presence anymore.
But she didn’t feel her absence either.
She wanted to take what Benjamin offered—a fresh start.
It pleased her beyond anything that he’d commented on her gift for creating beautiful things. She knew this herself, of course. It was something she did better than any of the other gods, even the Jade Emperor.
After all, she’d created him. And he was the most beautiful of all.
But being confident in her own abilities wasn’t the same as being recognized by someone whose opinion mattered to her. Once upon a time, she’d craved praise and appreciation, if not affection, from her creators. But after a few thousand years of waiting and not receiving, she’d long given up on this false hope.
Gods weren’t particularly affectionate as a rule, but she’d seen how the Jade Emperor and Queen Mother treat some of their creations a bit differently than others. For example, they held humans in high regard. Or perhaps they were simply more protective, given that this Kind was the weakest of all.
For a moment, she wondered how they would treat her now that she was more or less human.
She shrugged off the desire. She did not need validation from others. But she did adore receiving compliments from Ben.
Around ten o’clock, Eve set out for the markets on Charoen Krung road, both to familiarize herself with the area so that she wouldn’t risk missing Benjamin when he passed through, and because this was Bangkok! It was one thing to watch humans live their lives around the world across time through the Mirror Pond, and quite another to be in the midst of the hustle and bustle herself, living right alongside them.
Her eyes lit up at all the colors along the narrow street. Colors from various stands and signs, from the paint on the buildings themselves. Colors from street art, fabrics and wares, to exotic food and spices. There was an unapologetic boldness to these hues, unlike the more muted shades she used to weave the fabric of the Celestial Realm. These colors simply burst into life like fireworks, while the realm of gods and dragons was subdued.
Contained.
It was also messy and loud. There were so many bodies, so many smells, both good and bad. People jostled her as they passed and didn’t think anything of it. If fact, if you didn’t want to get lost in the crowd, you had to shoulder and elbow to where you wanted to go. Make a space for yourself and command it.
She learned quickly, weaving through the throng. Before long, she’d lost track of time. There were too many things to look at, too many treats to taste. She carried several bags of purchases by the time noon rolled around, looped around each arm. In her hand, she held two sticks of fried fish, her mouth stuffed with a seafood ball.
She was determined to try everything, despite her already protesting stomach. Who knew humans possessed such sensitive taste buds?
Sure, she ate like a normal person for the last three years. But there wasn’t a whole lot on offer in the Yukon. The best food could be had at Drink of Me and Tal and Ishtar’s house because of Mama Bear’s cooking. But she’d never made any of this.
Seven was determined to learn all of the ingredients so she could recreate the delicious dishes when she returned. Or at least attempt to, for she never learned to cook, only to use the microwave.
Someone brushed past her, rubbing their arm against her shoulder.
It shouldn’t have arrested her mid chew, for she was used to being jostled by now. And this was a very light brush besides.
But all the fine hairs on her body raised with awareness nevertheless. Her nostrils flared to pick up a unique, indescribable scent. Her pulse sped up with anticipation.
Benjamin.
No one in the universe smelled like him. She wanted to snort him like a drug. She wished he would roll around her bed at the hotel so the sheets and pillows would absorb some of the heady scent, so she could go to sleep cocooned within it. As if the man himself were wrapped around her.
On pure instinct, she reached out with her free hand, snatching a corner of his T-shirt before he could slip away.
He paused and turned slightly toward her while the sea of people undulated around them. It seemed that he was a lighthouse in the storm, and she was a small fishing boat lost in the drift, fighting to find its way home.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he murmured, a corner of his sensual mouth quirked in a barely-there smile.
She quickly swallowed the half-chewed fish ball with a gulp so that she could properly respond to this breathtaking creature, lest he deemed her an idiot and moved on.
“Hello, Benjamin.”
Casually, he pulled his sleeve out of her sticky grip. She let her hand drop back to her side.
“Call me Ben,” he invited.
She shook her head in a bit of a daze, staring unblinkingly at his face. She couldn’t be blamed for the fixation. He had a mesmerizing face.
“I like Benjamin,” she replied. “Benjamin Larkin D’Angelo. I like your name. It is full of meaning.”
He cocked his head a little at her, and she interpreted his expression as somewhat amused. Maybe even indulgent.
“Fair enough. And you are…”
“Seven,” she replied quickly. “It’s not really a name, but it’s kind of unique too. Not a lot of parents name their offspring Seven.”
“I can’t imagine why,” he murmured, that same quirk at the corner of his mouth.
Was he laughing at her? Teasing her?
She used to smite people who dared to laugh at her. And she’d only tolerated teasing from Mike at the diner.
Benjamin didn’t seem to be making fun. He even seemed to genuinely like the name Seven. At least, that’s the way she chose to interpret his look.
“Fish stick?” she offered, thrusting one of her two snacks under his nose.
Surprisingly, he took it from her and took a big bite.
“Not bad,” he mumbled as he chewed, smiling with his eyes down at her.
Mercy, but he was tall.
Eve was average height at best. Around five-four or five-five. Benjamin was over a foot taller, and he towered over her like a great, sturdy oak to her slender sapling.
How strange that she’d never noticed the difference in their physical size and strength. He was bigger in humanoid form when she was a goddess too, but that didn’t signify, since she was the far stronger one with her godly powers.
As Michael, she could appreciate Benjamin’s sheer masculinity and animal grace. Michael rather envied the breadth of his shoulders, the broadness of his chest, the rock-hard sections of his stomach, and the muscular curves of his arms, legs and buttocks.
As Ruth, she simply envied his youthful vitality. The fact that he could move with such ease and comfort, such power and effortlessness. She could appreciate that he was a beautiful man, but it was his youth that appealed to her the most as a woman in the sunset period of her life.
But she hadn’t really paid him particular attention as Eve. Just as he could never remember her face or name either.
Now, that changed. Or at least it was starting to.
She noticed him. She couldn’t look away for noticing him.
Becoming aware that her mouth was gaping, in danger of leaking drool, she snapped her jaw shut and blinked rapidly to dispel the fog of desire that had settled over her.
“I scouted a hole-in-the-wall chilly crab place three blocks down,” she said. “Maybe you want to try it too.”
“Lead the way, Seven,” he answered agreeably. “Crab of any kind is one of my favorite foods.”
Really? She’d never known that about him.
She didn’t know what any of his likes and dislikes were, in fact. Which seemed a gross oversight given how well she knew his body. Well, his previous incarnations, anyway.
She knew the way he fought, the fearless savagery with which he defended her. She knew he loved the cub, though she shied away from that word on principle.
She didn’t know much else. She’d never allowed herself to take enough interest to ask or care.
But that was about to change.
Thus, they walked not quite together, and not quite apart, toward the proposed luncheon destination, both polishing off their fish sticks in silence.
She tried not to look at him every second or so to check if he was still there, by her side. But she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to lose him. If she had her way, she’d take him by the hand so he would be physically tethered to her.
As a god, she never had to wonder if he obeyed and followed her. She simply knew that he did. But as a human with no control over him, and no ability to see into his thoughts, she was floundering in uncertainty. Honestly, she didn’t like that he had a choice.
Yet…
If he chose to spend time with her, as he did now, it felt somehow like a gift. And coming from a man like Ben, it was priceless.
A strange happiness warmed Seven from the inside out, her spirits lifting like champagne bubbles.
When they arrived at the chili crab shop, they had to stand in line for the next available seats. It was rush hour, apparently, and this little eatery was very popular.
They stood against the wooden beam that supported the entrance to the literal hole-in-the-wall, so close that Seven’s left side was mashed up against Benjamin’s right. People squeezed by them like schools of fish. The comings and goings seemed like well-choreographed traffic.
Benjamin stood half facing her, his back against the throngs. He braced one hand over her head against the beam, protecting her from getting jostled with his body.
This close, she could inhale his scent in great, heaving gulps. Which she did unabashedly. There were so many smells surrounding them, including the enticing fragrance from the delicious food they’d soon be partaking.
But nothing smelled as good as Benjamin. Not by a long shot.
This close, his male heat enveloped her, making her feel like a feline basking in the afternoon sun. He was her catnip. He made her want to nuzzle her face all over his skin, rub her scent glands everywhere. Oh, if she only had them. She wanted to mark him.
Mine!
Unconsciously, she swayed toward him, their bodies almost touching, her head tipped forward so that her nose was all but buried in the notch beneath his throat.
He moved slightly back before she could make contact, and she looked up at him with a disgruntled frown, like a child whose favorite treat had been snatched away.
“I can see the light in your eyes,” he said softly, before she could make a fuss.
“You only look this way when…” he trailed off with a shake of his head. She couldn’t interpret his meaning.
But since he was looking down at her and she was looking up, she got caught in the bright beam of his eyes too, and she couldn’t look away.
Eyes were the windows to the soul, or so the saying went. It was true. Seven could see the purity, strength, courage and goodness in Benjamin. Beyond his outer wrappings, what lay within was what made him so uniquely beautiful.
Byakko, the leopard Beast, even the first playmate she’d ever created…she could see them all reflected in his eyes. His memories and experiences. There was joy there. And there was pain. Regret too. And an aching tenderness.
Or was it Seven who felt achy and tender?
She wondered what he saw in her.
“Your seat is ready,” the store owner told them in a lilting, accented English.
Broken out of her reverie, Seven followed the small man to a table in the back of the restaurant, Ben right behind her.
The table was tiny, and so were their stools. When Benjamin sat down and stretched his long legs out, they all but tangled with her own. Surreptitiously, she scooted even closer, so that her knees were locked against his, like puzzle pieces.
He slid a chiding look her way, over the menu he was perusing. She batted a falsely innocent and helplessly lascivious look back, accompanied by a leer. Making it clear that while she played by his rules, her intentions remained unchanged. Given the opportunity, she’d lay the seduction on thick.
If only she knew the most effective way to go about it.
She was satisfied for the moment that he didn’t move away (though, really, there was nowhere for him to go given the size of the establishment). She rejoiced over every little win.
They both ordered the special chili crab and Thai iced tea. As they nibbled on the freshly made roti one of the servers put on their table, Ben took note of her many bags.
“Busy shopping this morning?” he inquired.
She nodded enthusiastically.
“I wish I could buy something from every stand. I want to remember every little thing about my experience here.”
His gaze turned contemplative as he regarded her.
“I’ve never seen you so engaged,” he murmured.
She shrugged.
“I don’t know. Ever since Ruth merged with us, I’ve become more aware. And, of course, I’m interested in you, now that I have my memories back. Even before that, Michael was always curious. If my theory is right, he represents my mind. He’s the thinker.”
“And you are?” he asked.
He always seemed to cut to the most direct and pertinent questions.
“What does Eve represent?”
She fidgeted a little, stalling for an answer as their food arrived.
Immediately, she dug into the gigantic chili crab with gusto, showing without words that her mouth was too busy to reply.
He didn’t ask again, letting the subject drop, as he focused on his own plate.
She didn’t want to answer. It felt too much like a vulnerability. What would she even say?
Eve is my heart.
Though I don’t really have one. See, the one I was born with died a sudden death, or shriveled to nothingness. And the Universe was destroyed in the process.
Honestly, I don’t know why Eve even exists, if in fact she is my heart. I’ve always possessed a keen intellect, hence Michael, despite his averageness in human form. I’ve been cursed with a soul for what happened with Byakko, hence Ruth.
But a heart is rather superfluous, if you ask me. I haven’t needed or missed one for almost the entirety of my long existence. I don’t even recall what it felt like to have one (metaphorically, not physically).
Yet here Eve is. Alive and kicking. Becoming more aware with each passing day in your presence. Terribly sensitive to every gesture, sound and look from you.
And your scent… gods forbid! She could be enslaved by your scent alone.
All told, Eve is a weakness I can’t afford to have. But somehow, she’s necessary too, I’m discovering. She makes me feel—
Alive.
She said none of those things. She simply ate her food in silence and snuck glances at Ben while he people watched.
To Seven, watching the subtle nuances in his expression was far more fascinating than anything else that might vie for her attention.
At length, he flicked a glance her way, one winged golden brow arched slightly in question. As if to say, Come on, I can’t be that interesting to look at.
She arched her own right back.
Or, at least, she tried. Instead, both her brows waggled comically, contorting her face, as if she was struggling not to sneeze.
His eyes creased with humor, and a mesmerizing groove appeared in his lean cheek.
Immediately, her hungry gaze focused on that not-quite dimple.
Women didn’t have these. Couldn’t make them even if they tried. Only men had grooves like these, Seven noticed. Some might call them brackets, because they bookended each side of a man’s mouth.
But on Benjamin, she would call them dimple-grooves. They only appeared when he was almost smiling, a tantalizing hint of amusement. They emphasized the sharp rise of his cheekbones and the generous curve of his lips. As well as the unyielding stubbled hardness of his jawline.
They were quite magical, really.
She noticed that he could make only one appear, and with the increased intensity of his amusement, two might pop out. It was a particular skill. Hypnotic. She wondered what would happen when he laughed. Would they lengthen into brackets or deepen into proper dimples?
She was impatient to find out.
But first, she had to get something off her chest.
“Are you only spending time with me because we knew…I mean…we were acquainted before?” she blurted.
As usual, she noticed how people looked at Ben. While he was attractive physically by any standard, it was that internal light that drew others to him. In this sea of people, why did he choose to bestow his attention on her? Apart from their shared pasts, there was nothing especially interesting about Eve, as far as she could tell.
He didn’t answer right away.
She found herself holding her breath as she waited.
“I think you know about the dragon quests,” he said slowly, at length.
Strangely, her “heart” plummeted to her stomach at his words.
“You helped us in the Celestial Realm,” he continued. “I wonder why.”
Because she had nothing better to do, she wanted to throw back at him with a mulish pout, but she held her tongue. She didn’t want to lie. She’d never been good at it, even to be spiteful.
“If you know anything about the Jade Emperor’s intentions…”
She gave him a look that clearly said—you expect me to know the mind of an all-powerful god?
“Or have theories about the purpose of these quests,” he amended, “I’d like to hear them and compare notes.”
Still, she kept silent, too busy trying to keep the disappointment off her face.
Here she thought she was embarking on a romantic overture, the first ever in the course of her long existence, and he was only wanting to mine her for information.
She stabbed at the shell of her chili crab, wishing she hadn’t already finished off the meat. It was much more satisfying to stab something with give to it. To find a better outlet for the violence brewing within her, she tore the little legs off the crab one by one, and cracked into them with her teeth.
There. That was more like it.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
His eyes softened a little as she continued to hold her tongue, her expression and posture bordering on hostile.
“It’s not the only reason we’re here feasting on chili crabs together,” he said quietly.
“I’ve felt things for your soul that I’ve never felt for anyone else,” he admitted, deep voice husky with emotion.
She lifted her gaze to his then, eyes betraying a tendril of pleasure inside of her, singeing her lungs with painful hope.
His eyes were cast down, hiding his thoughts. His face was carefully bland.
But his voice…
His voice held a myriad of emotions, memories and dreams. He spoke in such a low timbre that she had to bend closer to hear.
“You might have been a god, and a powerful one at that—”
“The most powerful,” she couldn’t help but interject. It was something she took pride in, since no one else took pride in her.
“After the Jade Emperor, that is.”
He slid her a glance through the thicket of his long lashes.
“The most powerful,” he added dutifully.
“You might have commanded the sky, earth and sea and all of the creatures therein. But from what I recall, I chose you. I chose to…feel for you. To be with you. I know myself. I would never have chosen blindly.”
“Well, I was a terribly awe-inspiring vision to behold,” she allowed. “You would have been blind not to choose me.”
There was that groove in his cheek again. Even though she hadn’t meant to amuse him. She was completely serious.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is: I want to understand better why I made this choice. Not once, but twice, if you and Lilith are one and the same.”
She nodded.
“Opposite sides of the same coin,” she confirmed. “And by your logic, you chose us three times, actually. There was once in the beginning too.”
He tilted his head in consideration.
“I don’t recall a third time. When was it?”
She waved it aside.
“The beginning of time, it might as well have been. It was too long ago to recall now. I was still new. We both were.”
He was thoughtfully silent for a spell, simply looking at her.
It was her turn to look away, strangely uncomfortable under his regard. His words had soothed the earlier burn in her chest.
Was it true? Had their…togetherness been his choice?