Chapter Nine #2
I narrowed my eyes.
“Hmm, what else do I have?” He relaxed against a pillar, enjoying himself entirely too much. “Your boundaries need work. Who’s going to teach you the difference between being a sub and being a pawn? Domination is one thing, Marlow, but if you’re getting fucked in the ass by every realm’s agenda—”
I succeeded in stamping my foot into his toes, but it did little more than draw disapproving glares from the middle-aged passengers waiting to board the last flight to New York. He was thoroughly unmoved.
“Let’s see… You have terrible taste in lovers—Caliban aside, your dating history is garbage.
” Every new, snarling curl of my lip seemed to embolden him.
“You’re too quick to trust. Obviously, I’m glad you kept my poppet, but objectively, it was a bad call.
You shared your plans with the Phoenicians.
You let in gods from all over the world.
You spilled everything to two witches you don’t know from Adam. Someone needs to work on your naivety.”
“Silas!”
“And one more thing,” he said, smile faltering slightly.
I studied his stupid, handsome face. The crown-like eyes, the glittering sword, the warrior’s attire and its ridiculous misplacement in an entirely metropolitan setting were all obscene.
Maybe now that he’d defected from Heaven, I’d be able to talk him into changing into normal clothes.
At least, I’d put it on the top of my list if I didn’t kill him first.
The game lost a bit of its levity as he said, “It’s important to know who loves you, Marlow. At the end of the day, it might be all you have. With enemies around every corner and the world cracking at the seams, I have to say…you were entirely too hard on Fauna.”
***
The two-hour-and-ten-minute flight was too short to do more than watch a bad sitcom and pound two gin and tonics, if only because the taste of juniper reminded me of Caliban. Scuttling through crowds, idling at baggage claim, and then piling onto the curb took another thirty minutes.
Our final thirty-five minutes stretched in an extra-large rideshare from JFK to the Four Seasons before we were able to finally relax.
I led the charge across the lobby’s amber lighting and polished stone.
The concierge asked if we were in town for business or pleasure.
I’d been scanning the beige rock walls, the twenty-thousand-dollar couches, the oversized art, the bar, the windows, and the hidden pockets of the lobby for familiar faces, too occupied to respond to the concierge.
This would be my third stay at the hotel.
The second had been to rewrite the past, burying memories of clients with experiences that belonged to me alone.
This time was a horse of a different color.
“We’re going to see Alessia Clovis,” Kirby said confidently. I wanted to be irritated with them for oversharing, but I’d be the pot calling the kettle a blabbermouth.
He appraised us carefully. “As supporters, or protestors?”
Priscilla rested an elbow on the counter. She gestured with the flick of her wrist. “What do you think?”
“Right.” He nodded. Maybe we weren’t supposed to judge books by their covers, but there was value in using context clues. “Well, I have you on the seventeenth floor, Miss Finnegan.”
I made a show of gently pouting. “No upgrades available?”
He began to shake his head while clicking between screens. Then he arched a single brow, eyes darting between whatever appeared on the computer and my face. I wasn’t enough of a liar to pretend it didn’t feel good. I smiled graciously.
“It appears we do have something on the forty-second,” he said.
“Oh, good,” I cooed. Nia and Kirby had long ago decided that Merit Finnegan was their favorite reality show.
They’d informed me on more than one occasion that they felt like Jane Goodall with the gorillas when watching me slip out of my foul-mouthed, introverted shell into the public figure who’d get them into ritzy suites, free meals at omakase restaurants, and greenroom passes to hang out with our favorite comedian—one who’d turned out to be a jackass in real life.
It had been a good reminder to never meet your heroes.
Nia, Kirby, and I were set to share a room. I booked Xuan and Priscilla the room across the hall.
“Will we be needing a third room?” Nia asked, eyes darting cautiously between the hulking men who remained unseen to the world around them.
Azrames was hard at work, thoroughly examining the counter, the computer, and the concierge himself for any signs of maleficence.
Silas had planted an arm on the counter, creating a barrier between the five of us and the outside world, like a shepherd with unpredictable sheep.
“Will guests be joining you?” the concierge asked, fingers hovering above whatever it was he might need to type.
Ever the petulant teenager, I rolled my eyes as I said, “No, unfortunately, everyone is already here. My friend was just wondering if we’d all…get along.”
He smiled as he handed over two sets of keys, and after an ear-popping elevator ride into the skyscraper, we’d plopped our suitcases around the suite and pressed our faces into the floor-to-ceiling windows as we looked down our noses on New York City like the gods we were.
Three of us would share the king bed, while the couch in the five-star suite pulled out to reveal a second king.
On any normal occasion, Silas and Azrames would return to their realms, sleeping in their respective beds.
Generally, they didn’t have to stay in the human realm every second of every day.
Life-or-death babysitting duty was not a part of the typical regimen.
I was sure being trapped with us was every bit as uncomfortable for them as it was for us.
Finally, away from curious eyes and ears, Nia reiterated her question from the lobby. “These two are just, what, supposed to share rooms with us?”
“Nia, there have probably been angels, demons, gods, and fae around you for your entire life. You’re just seeing them for the first time.
We’re safe with Az. I don’t just trust him with my life, I trust him with your lives, and that’s saying something.
Silas, however, is almost definitely a pervert. ”
Azrames enjoyed the joke more than anyone else in the room.
Silas plopped onto the couch, spreading his arms over the back as he awaited the plan. Azrames joined him on the far end of the sofa, looking far more relaxed than his tense, angelic counterpart.
Nia remained unconvinced.
I said, “They’ll share the couch. Just don’t walk around naked.”
“Fuck it,” Kirby said. “If invisible things have been seeing me nude my whole life, why bother covering up now.”
Nia tugged up her sleeve and looked at the thin, plastic second skin that the tattooist had plastered there.
She’d gotten hers on her inner bicep. Kirby’s was on their thigh.
Xuan had gone for the back of her neck, whereas Priscilla had chosen the sternum, wanting to keep knowledge of the veil and its secrets close to her heart. Nia frowned at her arm.
“I know I said I didn’t want to go back, but…”
Amber streetlights cut through the dark silhouettes of skyscrapers as I looked at my friend. I knew this fear well.
My expression softened. I touched my own tattoo, looking up at her as I said, “It’s a little late.”
“It’s not that.” She squirmed uncomfortably.
I looked at her tattoo, then gave her the space to speak. Whatever it was, I was in no place to talk over my friend’s experience.
She said, “I just… If I’d ever thought Heaven and Hell were real, I would have lived my life differently, you know?
Taken church more seriously. Been…different.
And then I meet these two, and—sorry, Silas, but you’re an angel, right?
You’re the cherubic, shiny, floaty good guy I’ve seen in tacky paintings for my entire life.
But you curse like a sailor, you have a temper, and I have no idea what to make of you. ”
He offered an irreverent half-salute from his reclined place on the couch in return.
Then to me, she said, “And then you’re not only pro-demon, but there’s all this god stuff…
” She trailed off. The men had the good sense to look away, pretending to be fascinated by whatever it was they found on their respective spots on the wall as she said, “What does this mean for the rest of my life? For any of us? Where do we go when we die? What do I do?”
“It won’t matter if the world ends,” Kirby said.
“But for my soul? Yeah, it will,” Nia said.
I chewed on my nails, which was uncommon for me.
I needed something to do with my nervous energy.
I didn’t want to be dismissive of her question, but I didn’t have an answer.
Not really. All I could say was, “I don’t know about after.
I know that I’ve been a human many, many times.
I know that my great-grandma made the choice to end her human cycles and stay with the Nordes. Az?”
He grimaced, as if hoping he wouldn’t be called upon for an answer.
“Anything to add?”
He ran his fingers through his inky, disheveled hair, tossing it around his horns as he blew out a breath.
His tone was sticky with regret as he said, “With humans? It’s so hard to say.
I know that’s not what you want to hear.
The easy answer would be something or other about enlightenment—that once you knew about the realms, you’d pick one and stay put. But…everyone’s journey is different.”
Nia addressed him directly as she asked, “What am I supposed to do with that information? What does that mean for today, tomorrow, my next fifty years on this planet?”
“Honestly?” He shrugged, leaning forward. “It means whatever you want. The only person in here who’s spent his existence living by someone else’s rules is Silas. Silas, tell the class: How’s your mental health?”