Chapter 8 – Jessica
I wake up to Ithuriel sitting at the table. I wonder if he got any sleep at all, with all the bickering he and Sariel did during the night. Bickering that ended with the demise of the angel's pillow, the evidence of which still lies strewn over the foot of the bed.
"Where's your broodier half?" I ask the angel.
"He is not my anything," he replies icily.
"I'm sorry." I try to sound contrite, but to be honest, I think Sariel's mischief is rubbing off on me and I'm enjoying teasing Ithuriel almost as much as he is.
"He went to have breakfast downstairs when I awoke."
"Okay." I chew on my lip, then muster the courage to ask the question I've been dying to ask since we left Purgatory. "What's the deal with you two?"
Ithuriel looks away to stare into emptiness. "There is no deal. I am an angel, he is Fallen."
"Yeah, but..." I hesitate. When am I going to have another chance like this though? "You used to be friends?" The angel's gaze returns to mine, and though his eyes are the same crystalline icy color as before, they now hold a vulnerability he probably doesn't know how to hide. I'm suddenly glad Sariel isn't here to press on the wound.
"We were inseparable. Our elders often commented that Father must have created us to complement each other." The angel's mouth twists. "And yet, I did not know his intentions."
I pick at the skin around my thumbnail. "Did you know he had feelings for you?"
Ithuriel laughs mirthlessly. "There are no feelings, nor were there then. Do not let him convince you that his behavior is anything other than the need to cause discomfort to everyone around him.”
I’m not so sure about that, but I don’t say it. I feel like this angel isn’t the type to change his mind easily. “I should go downstairs and see if I can get breakfast too,” I say instead and he immediately bristles.
“I don’t believe it’s a good idea for you to be near those creatures.”
“That’s okay.” I hop out of bed and gather my stuff, strapping on my weapons. Wonder if they have coffee? “Sariel’s there. And I can take care of myself.” I glance at Ithuriel in time to see his jaw muscles tick.
“I am not letting you go alone,” he states, standing up.
I hesitate. “You don’t need to do that, Itha.” His face softens at my use of the nickname Sariel teases him with. A completely different reaction than the Fallen gets. “It was tough for you yesterday just walking past.”
“It will be fine… Jess.”
I beam up at him and brush past him to leave our room. As his scent hits me a shiver runs down the small of my back. How is he so delicious when he’s so forbidden?
When we get to the stairs, he gently blocks my path with his arm and takes the lead. I roll my eyes at the chivalry. I’ve been living in Hell for going on four years now. I’ve fought all types of demons – the majority quite recently, when that dickhead Belial attacked Purgatory to get to my team leader, Lana. I can handle breakfast at a demonic brothel – a term I will not be saying out loud where Itha can hear me.
We’re greeted by conversation and then laughter, like we walked down right at the punchline of a joke. Sariel sits at a long table, the only occupied one, surrounded by a scattering of mostly-humanoid-looking demons. He seems to be at the center of attention, reigning over his rapt audience. Yet, while his lips are set in a customary smirk, the implied joy doesn’t reach his black eyes. They’re flat and dead, the skin around them smooth and unwrinkled.
“Here comes my good side,” he drawls, waving us over. “Move, Zavrek,” he tells the handsome blond demon sitting to his left. “I don’t want my little angels sitting next to the likes of you.”
“You mean better looking than you and better in bed?” the hellion asks slyly, but gets up to move across from Sariel anyway. Fighting a smile, I sit down next to the Fallen, leaving space on my other side for Ithuriel.
“Tell me there’s coffee,” I ask no one in particular. From the corner of my eye, I watch as Ithuriel haltingly moves closer, obviously pondering sitting at a different table, but eventually deciding to gingerly place his ass next to mine. “You should see the riots in Abaddon when the bean runs dry,” I continue, trying to dispel the tension. A couple of demons chuckle and Sariel throws his arm around my shoulders. Though I’m now used to his touch, it’s hard to stay immune to his nearness. When I turn toward him, my heart notices just how close his face is and pitter patters an erratic rhythm in response.
“We’ll get you your java juice, sweetling,” he murmurs. I’m dazed, blinking at him, mesmerized by his low, sensual voice and my reflection in his obsidian eyes.
Wait .
“Did you just make a Star Wars reference?”
Sariel grins, and this time, his black eyes hold a slight sparkle. “Loved the movies.”
“Me too,” I breathe.
The hissing snickers of the demons around us break me out from under the fallen angel’s spell.
“If you two are done flirting,” the handsome Zavrek says with a grin, “Ruk brought food and coffee for the Nephilim.”
I flush. We were so engrossed we didn’t even notice stuff being placed before me. I try to pull away from the Fallen, but he pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head before letting me go. “The food’s safe,” he tells me.
“Of course it’s safe,” someone else grumbles darkly.
“Because the barkeep looks so clean and trustworthy?” Ithuriel all but rolls his eyes.
“Don’t get into a fight,” I warn him under my breath, making him give me an appalled look. Probably never imagined himself to be the problem. I lift my hand to give his a squeeze, then remember his reaction to my touch last night and drop it. He gives my hand a sad, possibly regretful glance.
Picking up my toast, I nibble on the edge. Crunchy and tasty. Next, I pick up the mug of a black liquid more precious to me than oil and close my eyes before bringing it to my lips. Mmm . “Yummy.”
Opening my eyes, I see I’m once again the center of attention. The demons are looking at me with varying degrees of lust, Sariel’s lips are curled on one side, and even Ithuriel is uncomfortably tugging on his collar.
I cringe. “Sorry, boys. Been on the road, so to say, for a few days and will be for some more, I’m just enjoying fresh food while I can.”
“Oh, please, don’t apologize,” the cocky blond drawls. “And don’t stop on our accord, we’re enjoying the show.”
Ithuriel hisses. “Mind your tongue around a lady.”
I blush again as the demons share amused glances. I mean I’m not not a lady, but I don’t know if I’d call myself one, and his doing so is just… suggestive. Like he’s invested. Between Sariel’s hug and kiss, and Ithuriel’s protectiveness, it really looks like the two are both romantically attached to me. Aaand, now I’m reliving that dream.
“It’s okay, Itha, this is tame behavior compared to Topside.” He frowns so I rush to explain. “I don’t know how much time you’ve spent with modern humans, but most guys these days can’t string two meaningful words together to a woman.” I feel weird energy coming from my other side so I face Sariel, who is – shocker – smirking at me. I lift my brows at him. “You have something to add?”
“You called him Itha,” he replies with a low voice that coils around my happy parts.
I open and close my mouth a few times, searching for words. In the end, I decide on bravado. “Yes. And I’ll be calling you Sar from now on as well.”
He chuckles softly. “As you wish, poppet. But tell me, do you have something against angelic suffixes? Or is it suffixes in general?”
“You may call me Jess, too,” I decide magnanimously.
His depthless eyes have a knowing look, and I decide to focus on my food instead. The sooner I’m done with eating, the sooner I’ll stop being a bug under the microscope for these demons.
∞∞∞
As I astutely predicted, the inn was the last foray into civilization for a while. Once we left, the demonic patrons pouting to see us go, it was Ithuriel’s turn to fly with me. After our understanding in the inn’s bedroom, the angel stopped flinching at my touch and he even let me caress the soft pearly feathers of his wings, though his expression got a bit pinched at that, so I didn’t ask to do it again since. His eyes had widened and then darted around before he sucked in a gulp of air. It must be really hard for him to let someone into his personal space.
I’m determined to make him see me as a friend though. There’s something about his stoic presence that’s healing to me, like a cold cream over a bruise. I always feel lighter when I’m near him and, at night, I’ve been putting my bedroll as close to his as I can without causing him anxiety.
The caffeine was well and truly out of my system by the time we set eyes on the Lethe for the first time. Though Lana told me Ashtaroth’s fortress is a sight to see, she’s gonna have a hard time convincing me anything in Hell can be more majestic than the misty cliffs and clear waterfalls surrounded by almost jungle-like plantlife.
Sariel says we’re close enough to the area where the rift is now rumoured to be and that we should start sticking to the ground as much as possible, keep our senses sharpened for any signs of it.
Now that we’re walking more than flying, I see how quickly I’ve gotten used to being in their arms. Not being in constant contact with one of them is making me feel oddly… lonely.