6. His collection of weirdos
Nevaeh
“Hazel!”
Angel calls out and the sudden high volume catches me off guard making me flinch without meaning to.
Inhaling a shuddering breath, I put a hand over my heart and wait for the pounding in my head to stop.
You're not in that nightmare anymore, Nevaeh. You're in a safe place. This man had the perfect opportunity to kill you in your sleep but he didn't. Trust that fact.
I keep mumbling the words under my breath until the tension in my body loosens.
“I’m so sorry for startling you, sweetheart.” Angel’s voice breaks my frozen state, pulling me out of my head. He brings my hand—that I didn’t even realize he was still holding—to his lips to softly kiss my knuckles. “I’ll be more careful next time.”
“You don’t have to,” I try, but he doesn’t budge.
I have to turn away from Anxo to hide the way my face is heating up because of the intensity in his eyes.
When Anxo took me to check on the little boy, I was hoping he would be awake and eager to see me but what I saw was the opposite.
Monkey still hasn't woken up.
The healer explains it's a trauma response, and that I don't need to worry because his body is just taking its own time to heal and rest.
I agree to leave the room and meet Anxo's friends when he shows me how this room is close to the living area and I'll be able to hear if monkey wakes up and asks for me .
Walking down the hallway I see the door to a room on my right wide open. Naturally, I stop to take a quick peek inside when I hear someone humming. Standing on the threshold I see a woman sitting on a chair with her feet crossed over each other and resting on the desk.
She grabs a squeaky clean white napkin and silently proceeds to ever-so-gently clean a...
Is that a bloody dagger?
Holding onto Angel's shoulder, I stand on my toes to get a better look at the exquisite ancient daggers spread out on the desk with shiny gems engraved on them. My eyes are automatically drawn to the one with a red handle carved with alluring patterns and a zigzag-edged blade.
A perfect combination of delicate and deadly.
Nothing about how this woman looks matches her current activity. She’s tall, lean—I bet a warrior, judging by her stature—has a heart-shaped face, soft monolid eyes, and even softer features. Everything about her seems elegant and poised, but the dagger she is twisting in her fingers squashes that image.
More like stabs it.
The black full-sleeved high-neck top tucked into a pair of army green cargo pants highlights her curves and build elegantly.
How can a woman look so deadly yet equally alluring at the same time?
When Anxo clears his throat, the woman's head turns toward us, her sharp onyx eyes narrowing on me.
After cleaning her hands, she takes agonizingly slow steps to me, her boots clunking against the floor with every step. Her body language is restrictive as if analyzing a potential opponent.
She squints at me, flipping her medium-length raven hair behind her shoulders, making me scoff at the challenging gaze.
Angel breaks the tense staring contest by introducing her, “Nevaeh, this is Hazel Seagrave, my Warriorhead.”
Something about her name sparks my curiosity. Cautiously letting my Divine peek through, I wait for it toget familiar with her essence so I can know what she is.
Fuckidy fuck. She’s a Siren.
“You're a siren,” I blurt out.
“Congratulations... you have eyes.”
Oh, calm down woman with pretty daggers.
If I set aside her brazen response, it's clear my blatant ogling is making her uncomfortable.
Remember, you're a calm person, Nevaeh. And calm people don't start shit with unknown Warriorheads.
“A siren Warriorhead for Conquer. Unexpected.”
Raising her brows Hazel retorts, “And a female Grim Reaper is not?”
“The next , actually.”
“Same thing.”
I can see that Hazel enjoys giving people a hard time unnecessarily— something I genuinely admire.
“Not really. You’re a little slow, aren’t you, siren? Good thing your cute ness makes up for it, right?”
Looks like I'm not as calm as I think I am. But is the steam coming out of her ears worth it? Fuck yes.
The impassive mask the siren once wore is off as she stalks to me, “How dare you call me that.”
Someone doesn't like getting compliments .
Unfortunately, before the actual fun can begin, Angel interrupts our lovely interaction. “All right, ladies, I think that’s enough getting to know each other.”
Backing out of the room, Angel pulls me with him and asks Hazel to meet us in the living room with the others.
“Oh, of course, your majesty. Do you have any other commands for this peasant?”
Oh, I really like her.
When the siren sarcastically bows, it makes me snort out loud. Hazel tries to suppress her smirk at my reaction while Anxo looks confused about how quickly we called a truce.
“Hazel? Would you be so kind and do as I ask?” Angel requests rather than demanding like before. His words might be polite, but his eyes shoot a clear warning, that Hazel is smart enough to catch.
Just as I turn to leave, I blow Hazel a kiss to irritate her one more time. She is quick to show me the finger, but I don’t miss the twitch in her lips.
New life achievement: I made a siren smile.
“Uh, Anxo?” I ask, trying to match his pace as we enter a room surrounded by glass walls.
That can’t be safe, right?
What if someone smashes into them without realizing it's glass and falls to their death?
And why are Angel’s legs so damn long?
When he nods at me to signal he's listening, I look around to see if we are alone before whispering, “How the fuck did you convince a siren of all species to be your Warriorhead?”
I’m sure my shock is plastered on my face. My eyes hurt from how big I’m making them but if it was anyone else in my place they would be equally dumbfounded.
She’s a siren for Fate's sake!
An extremely rare and powerful species that we know next to nothing about. And now I'm in her presence. And her attitude is to die for.
“Do you always swear this much?” Angel asks, his head leaning sideways in genuine amusement.
“No, I’m being civil. This is me trying to make a good first impression.”
My honesty is rewarded with him throwing his head back in a booming laugh. Hearing the fulfilling sound, my heart swells. Like I can feel his happiness in my heart.
“You are your father’s daughter.”
“Of course I am. Are you sure they let you have Conquer willingly because your intelligence makes me question your crown, big guy?”
Anxo chuckles and brushes off the insult like I never said anything in the first place. Now I’m starting to freak out because nothing I do makes him angry or even remotely flippant.
Shifting back on the small couch Angel chose for us, I wonder why we didn’t take the much larger and empty one. When my thigh tingles feeling his thigh pressed against mine, I can't help but sit still.
Something is terribly wrong with me if I don’t care about people touching me anymore.
“Hazel is a runaway.”
A runaway siren? That can’t be right.
Merfolk hates surface people and tends to stay in their cities deep underwater.
“Trust me, I was just as surprised. When we met, she was in a bad place so I offered to help. I'm sorry I can't say more about her past, sweetheart. Not my story to tell.”
I know what running from your demons feels like but where Hazel had the strength to get out and rebuild her entire life, I lost all hope and faded away for years.
I can’t shake the fury that comes with knowing someone wanted to harm the adorable-looking woman who likes knives. I don’t know her well enough to care, but it doesn’t stop my Divine from stirring uncomfortably.
To some extent, I understand the instant connection with Anxo and caring about him since we are both Horsemen descendants. The need to look out for our own is engraved into our bones, but why the moody siren?
What is happening to me?
“One day, I saw Hazel sparring with a warrior double her size, and I was convinced. She was fast . The guy barely got to touch her. Hazel won that fight without losing a drop of blood or sweat. I know it’s not traditional to incorporate other species into our higher ranks, but Hazel has proved her loyalty more times than I can count. Now three years later, she is my family.”
The fond smile on his lips is proof of his admiration for Hazel. It’s twice now that Angel has brightened up at the mention of his people.
My attention from the alluring man shifts when two people walk into the room behind Hazel with excitement radiating off of them. The smaller woman I have yet to meet offers me a small wave paired with a shy smile before ducking behind Hazel’s frame.
“Nevaeh, you’ve already met Seiji Nakaya, our Prince of Famine.” Angel points to the man I met yesterday.
Just like last night, he has a welcoming presence. The way he is so effortlessly comfortable with himself makes me instantly relax around him too.
“It was fun to watch you drool over my best friend's shoulder.” Never happened . “I’m Seiji, like the sage witches use for their abracadabra, with an ‘I’.”
Judging by how he takes his time to make sure I know the proper pronunciation, I can tell Seiji doesn’t take kindly to people mispronouncing his name.
“Oh, you look otherworldly in that hoodie. But I think Anxo has something similar. Don't you, Anxo?”
“Behave,” Angel warns, but it’s ignored.
“What? I’m simply admiring her raw beauty in your hoodie.”
They they continue to bicker, while I admire how Seiji’s warm brown eyes shine with childlike innocence, and his dark locks styled to perfection compliments his tan beige skin.
Even with his large build, Seiji doesn’t come off as threatening in the least. Mostly thanks to his boyish features and a mouth that lets everyone know he is a child stuffed inside a 6-foot man’s body.
Seiji's East Asian features are similar to Hazel’s, but not quite the same.
Now that I know him a little, his dressing style makes more sense. A royal blue boxy shirt with green leaves and red flowers printed on it, and a black undershirt that is visible since almost every button is open. I really like the chain looped around the right pocket of his beige pants.
Everything about him is bright and colorful.
The woman I haven’t had the pleasure of talking to nervously sits on the couch opposite me. When no one pushes her to talk, I take the hint and do the same.
Her soft caramel eyes look like she has fireflies trapped inside them. For a woman who's roughly 5 ‘3, her braids seem heavier than her entire body weight.
So dainty and fragile.
I want to ask if her braids hurt her scalp.
This is a lot of empathy for someone as unhinged as me.
She tugs on the sleeve of her loose pale pink sweater, before rubbing her hands down her smooth bronze thighs, and then playing with the hem of her black skirt.
Overall, she is sweating her weight in worry, and I think it's because of me.
Should I smile? Will that make her relax and not squirm like a chicken waiting to get its head cut off?
A timid voice gains my attention before I can conclude whether a smile is necessary.
“Hello, I’m Grace… uh, Blackburn .”
Wait… That’s my last name.
“Blackburn?” She looks down with a grimace when I look at her suspiciously. “Do I know you?”
And she's not talking. Again .
“Please don’t tell me Papa found his mate, and I missed it—no, wait, that can’t be right because then you should be like ten and not an adult.”
I wait for Grace to explain, but my questions render her speechless, and I have no choice but to continue forming irrational theories.
“Are you... are you his mate? Or—”
“For Lucifer’s sake, here's an idea. Maybe if you stop rambling and give her a chance, she will talk.” Hazel interrupts me.
I’m stumped hearing Lucifer from her mouth before I remember she’s a siren. One of Lucifer’s first creations. It’s only reasonable she prays to him.
“You are one snappy siren.”
The way Hazel's face remains blank should scare me, but I’m still in awe of her being here.
Thankfully, with time and a whole lot of awkward silence, Grace finally gives me some answers.
“Not his mate. That's not...” When Grace turns to look at Anxo, he gives the jittery woman an encouraging nod to continue. “I went on a camping trip and got lost. I was thirteen and an orphan living in a group home so when I saw a portal, I crossed it.”
Personally, I don’t agree with crossing portals when you don’t know where they’ll lead, but I do admire her courage.
Grace shakily chuckles seeing my expression, “It was a rare moment of bravery. When I crossed, Dean was waiting for me on the other end like he knew someone was coming through. He took one glance at me and then told me to follow him if I wanted to know who I really was.”
Trying to figure out who or what they are without my Divine is getting tedious now. I wish I could control my stubborn Divine better so I didn’t have to wait for them to tell me what they were.
“Turns out, I’m a Bookkeeper.”
No way .
How is Angel collecting all these rare mythics?
Bookkeeper: An individual gifted with the knowledge of literally everything. Every species. Every realm. From the supernatural history everyone knows to the one they keep hush-hush.
“There's never been a human Bookkeeper,” I whisper in awe, staring at Grace as if she will disappear into thin air. Now I understand why Seiji was looking at me with those eyes yesterday. Like him, I’m also waiting for Grace to do something magical.
“Before Dean, I thought I was crazy to know the things I did. He offered me the chance to be who I was always meant to be. ”
I knew Papa had a thing for making sure power and potential are never wasted, but taking in a human girl was maybe a tad bit drastic. But that’s just who he is.
I’m glad he did, though. I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if Grace stumbled upon the wrong people who wanted to abuse her gift.
Seiji abruptly stands up, and in his hurry, accidentally knocks over a vase.
If it wasn’t for Grace gasping, my attention would’ve stayed on the broken pieces of glass on the floor. All my life, I’ve been immune to the sight of blood but a small trail of Grace's, and it feels like my soul is on fire.
The need to get rid of the blood flowing down Grace’s calf takes over until I can't see or hear anything but her heavy breathing and the way she is fisting her hands in pain.
Before I know what I'm doing, I’m running to crouch in front of her and placing my palm over her leg. Within seconds, my Divine heals the small cut and immediately tries to wiggle out of my control sensing my disarray.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to rein in my essence. When Seiji grabs my hand to wipe the blood off it with a wet cloth my Divine finally settles down and allows me full control of over own my mind and body again.
First, my brain stops working around Anxo, and now my Divine is stealing my body to heal Grace.
Fucking awesome.
I’m still on the floor when a hand touches my shoulder, and the rush of warmth snaps me out of my daze.
Standing with Angel’s help, I’m still trying to wrap my head around why I did that. I thought the compulsive need to help was limited to Horsemen and their mates, but Grace is neither.
Yet, the Bookkeeper’s Divine feels oddly familiar.
Something is not quite right with this human.
“How did you do that?” Angel asks, walking me back to the couch. Grace’s eyes follow me like she’s trying to figure out what makes me tick. It’s a little creepy .
“Do what?”
“Reapers aren't supposed to heal others, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, but you already know, I don't have the typical Reaper Divine,” I answer absentmindedly.
My gold essence isn’t the only difference between Papa and me. And just like healing, I have one more thing about my Divine that I keep to myself.
“Okay, miss 'I’m built different'.” Seiji straightens with a scoff. “Now, who wants hot chocolate? Wait don’t answer that, of course, everyone wants one.”
He mumbles to himself on his way to the kitchen but stops to ask over his shoulder, “Hey Nevaeh, do you want marshmallow in yours?”
Do I? I don’t remember how it tasted or how I liked it, so I’m not sure what the correct answer is.
“I don’t know princess. I was in a rat cell for a decade, concussed and dying for the most part. Whatever you make will be much better than what I’m used to.”
His mouth falls open, but no words come out.
“Poor soul doesn’t remember hot chocolate,” Seiji chokes out with his forefinger and thumb held dangerously close, “I’m this close to a breakdown.”
When Seiji's eyes gloss over and he walks away, my head snaps to Angel in a panic. “Is he going to cry because I don’t remember hot chocolate?”
“It’s not your fault. Seiji is just a little sensitive.” Grace assures me with a warm smile.
These people smile so easily.
It’s weird .
“I’ll go check on the drama queen.” Hazel runs after Seiji before anyone else can volunteer.
Honestly, I was expecting either Anxo or Grace to offer a shoulder to cry on, but watching Hazel turn an emotional Seiji into a pissed off Seiji confirms my suspicion.
Hazel is just like her daggers.
Sharp and life-threatening on one end and delicately detailed on the other.